#front view and 3/4 view done the back is next

[princesjackpot]

I need to sleep its like 2am I have been doing turn arounds for like two hours now 😭

[keeps-ache]

ggghhg i hate vehiclessssssss ghghghhghhhhh [dies dies dies forever]

[humanjarvis]

caught in a lie

synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  

tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k

a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure

As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 

You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.

“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 

“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”

As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.

“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”

“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”

At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 

Caleb.

Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 

Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.

Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 

7 Unread messages

4 Missed calls

3 New voicemails

Fuck.

“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”

“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”

Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.

He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 

As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”

“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 

“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”

When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 

But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 

She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”

"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 

In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 

Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  

You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 

Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.

“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”

Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”

The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 

“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”

“...Yes, it’s okay.”

Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.

The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 

When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 

When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 

“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.

“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.

“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 

“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”

“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”

“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 

“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 

Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 

Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”

As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—

Your phone rings.

You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 

The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.

“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.

Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”

“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”

At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 

“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”

You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 

Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 

“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”

His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”

With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 

“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 

When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”

He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 

Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 

He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 

With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 

Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 

“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 

An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”

Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 

A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 

One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 

Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 

All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.

Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”

You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 

You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”

You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 

“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 

“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 

You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 

“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 

Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 

When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 

As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   

“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.

“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 

“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”

Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 

At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”

You do it.

When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 

“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.

Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 

Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.

“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.

“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.

“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 

“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.

“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 

As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.

But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 

“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 

As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.

“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 

“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 

“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”

“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 

For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 

Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 

“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 

As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 

Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 

“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 

At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 

Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 

Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 

With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”

“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”

He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 

When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 

At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.

[deebris]

The Misteryous Visitor 6

Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)

Synopsis: Being alone with Damian after so many years didn't lead to the ideal conversation you two should have had, but every little word seemed to have helped you two get closer at least a little bit. However, the chaotic turbulence of the night returned when your mother decided to leave.

Warnings: Family discussion; mention of kidnapping; maternal possessiveness;

Word count: 4k

Note: I wanted to post this and part 7 together, because they are the last two, but it didn't turn out as planned. I hope you like it.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Damian walked to the end of the hallway and turned right, heading toward the living room. His only goal at the moment was to find you and try to prepare you for the catastrophic revelation he knew would come at some point. He was already tired of seeing you so unaware of everything; you weren’t an idiot and didn’t deserve to be treated like one.

But it seemed he didn’t have to try too hard because as soon as he turned the corner and walked a few meters, he abruptly stopped upon seeing that you hadn’t disappeared. In fact, you were there, sitting on the floor next to an old portrait of Martha, your grandmother, curled up as if just waiting for someone to come and get you. Someone who wasn’t your brother, apparently.

“There you are.” He took a few steps back and made no effort to crouch to your level; instead, he stood staring at you with a reproachful look that made you pull your legs even tighter to your chest. “Get up, quickly. The floor is for rats.”

He was trying to ignore the tension, but you were giving him the silent treatment, which made him uncomfortable, though he would never admit it to himself. You had done this to him many times before, but it was always over silly reasons, so he never minded.

You also could never hold a grudge for long, and when you were younger, within an hour, you would have forgotten any disagreement between the two of you and would then come to annoy him again. But now you were older, it wasn’t a tantrum anymore, and the reason was much more complex than any other. You weren’t ignoring him because you were simply irritated, and he feared it was different now.

Damian couldn’t ignore the irritation he felt seeing how ashamed of yourself you seemed since he first saw you. He hated that trait of your personality, always very aware of everything and everyone around you, though it was contradictory to your incredible ability to do unthinkable nonsense.

From where you both were, he still had a view of the bedroom door. The boy couldn’t help but glance over there, curious about what kind of discussion your parents were having. At the same time, he was contemplating various ways to say something or maybe try to fix the awkwardness between you two now, but your guilty voice caught him off guard:

“I didn’t mean to cause harm.” You sounded hoarse, and you two stared at each other, and unlike his sharp eyes, yours were wavering. He gave you a hard expression, but not because of the aversion you thought he had for you, but out of confusion.

It was a pity that Damian’s feelings weren’t easy to read, so you thought he was angry because that night you found out Bruce was someone very important to your brother now. “I didn’t mean to hurt Mr. Wayne. I really don’t know what I did to make him like this. I’m sorry.”

So you thought you had done something wrong to make your father that way, Damian concluded. He hadn’t reflected on how you might feel that way, and fighting against his own callous nature, he made an effort to relax his posture and crouched down in front of you. Damian didn’t dare sit the same way you were, balancing on his toes and leaning his torso forward.

“It wasn’t anything you did.” You’re not sure, but you risk saying this was the first time you heard your brother so soft in your entire life. Damian had always been very loud and was almost always yelling or offending someone, but now, combined with the gravity his voice had gained with puberty, it was tender.

He was going to say something else, but suddenly a strange noise sounded. It was muffled, but it seemed like something had fallen, and you both could feel the ground vibrate. It came from the bedroom, which made you become alert. You started to get up, worried, but your brother’s firm hand on your shoulder stopped you.

“It must have been nothing. Don’t worry about them.” The tenderness had been replaced by harshness, but it wasn’t directed at you.

Sliding your back against the wall again, you rested your chin on your knees while admiring your own shoes, and just like always, you couldn’t maintain your silent treatment with Damian for long:

“I think I bothered Mr. Wayne by coming here. Mom will be mad at me for this later, I know she will.” You were obviously nervous, seeking refuge in Damian as you always did when you had to face her. Your mother didn’t have a good relationship with Batman, and now having to deal with you for disturbing his evening would make her furious. The little relief you felt earlier had vanished, suspecting she had only been affectionate before not to show Bruce.

“Mom is mad all the time.” He tried to calm you down. It would be unbelievable for someone who knows Talia only through her assassin image to hear such a thing. She was a cold and calculating woman, but you both knew when she was upset. She didn’t express it in a conventional way, and Damian had already gotten used to it. Your mother’s mood didn’t concern him much, but it was still scary for you.

“You were mad…” Your statement made him sigh because it was true. A few minutes ago, he had reacted that way, but there was context he couldn’t immediately explain to you. “Maybe I can apologize to him? If he forgives me, I promise I won’t do it again, and then mom-”

“Y/n.” Your brother cut off your frantic speech sharply; you were almost hyperventilating. “No one is mad at you.” He said it as a statement, leaving no room for you to contest him.

“He was calm.” you started to ramble, picking at the fabric of your clothes with your nail. “He read something he took out of his pocket and started feeling sick, I was trying to help…”

Damian frowned. He had seen Dick give a small piece of paper to his father downstairs. That idiot wouldn’t have been stupid enough to write on it that you were his daughter, right? What a wonderful way to tell something like that.

“Idiot.” Your brother muttered aloud without meaning to, feeling immense anger at the thought that Dick had done that. And only after he blurted out the word did he realize you were still beside him, listening. “Not you.” He tried to explain hastily, still with a furious expression on his face.

It was strange for him to talk to you that way. He had called you an idiot many times during childhood, and you used to call each other much worse things, as siblings do. But your relationship now was delicate, like a strand of cotton candy, since that intimacy you once had was lost.

“By the way, Bruce is just stressed about Strange.” Damian analyzed your reaction at the mention of the name. To you, Strange was just another enemy of Batman, never suspecting that the man who appeared at your house years ago could somehow be him.

The League of Assassins had many enemies scattered across the globe; at that time, you thought it was just another one of them. You also never asked or wanted to talk about it, which was unusual for how chatty you could be sometimes. For you, Hugo Strange and the person who kidnapped you back then had no connection.

“There must have been something about our investigation there. I’m sure it was Dick who gave him that card. You didn’t do anything.” He said.

Your heart returned to its normal rhythm, but it grew heavy again as you understood the facts. Damian was blaming Dick for that thing Bruce was holding onto, but it was you who had given it to him in the first place. Bruce became distressed when you mentioned the gift and quickly pulled it out of his pocket. That must have been the object Strange gave you.

“Dami.” He heard the nickname leave your lips, and a flicker of hope hit him. There was still a certain closeness between you there. “I was the one who brought the card here; it’s not Dick’s fault. Strange gave it to me to give to Mr. Wayne.”

Damian abruptly stood up, returning to an upright posture. “Strange did what?” Neither Tim, Dick, nor Jason had mentioned this. They said they were telling the whole story, but none of them mentioned any kind of message. Was that why Tim had been acting so strange when he arrived? He remembers seeing him throw a box in the trash and getting all nervous when Damian got irritated and asked what it was. “Was it a small gift box, by any chance?”

“Yes, the same size as the card.” You made a square with your thumbs and index fingers, trying to show the shape of the object. “Just like this. But Mr. Wayne didn’t let me read it; I acted badly by trying to see what was in there too. I shouldn’t have been nosy.”

So Bruce didn’t let you know on purpose? Maybe he just didn’t want you to find out this way. He should have told you. Damian was about to open his lips to take the initiative, but the sound of someone approaching stopped him.

Alfred paused for a moment, finding it odd to see the two of you here. He had returned to make sure you were okay once more and then leave you alone until later in the day. “Master Damian,” He said the boy’s name as a form of acknowledgment, “I thought you were asleep.” The butler added, addressing both of you.

“Alfred!” You got up and walked over to him, who rested a hand on your head expectantly. He saw the way you looked hesitantly at your brother, seeking some kind of approval before returning your attention to him once more. “Something bad happened to Mr. Wayne; he wasn’t well.”

Alfred's eyes widened, looking at Damian for an explanation or just confirmation that it was true. He was obviously tense and speechless for a moment but quickly composed himself.

“What happened, dear?” He asked, and once again you sought your brother’s approval, who took the initiative to explain in your place.

“He…” Damian began, trying to find a way to say it. “Bruce discovered something about Strange.” He said with a suspicious tone and the butler quickly understood the underlying implications.

“Where is he?” Alfred asked, worried.

Damian wasn’t planning to answer, knowing Alfred’s aversion to Talia, but you jumped in: “He and my Mom are talking.”

The butler was obviously displeased and furrowed his brow. He had planned to tell Bruce privately about his supposed daughter, but apparently, things had moved ahead of him. But Alfred knew Bruce well and understood that despite his instability, he would handle things as rationally as possible. Or at least he hoped so.

It was unsettling how a simple night so suddenly turned into yet another Wayne family drama.

“Well,” he sighed, “It seems it’s too early for breakfast, but also too late to go back to sleep.” He gave your hair a gentle tousle with the hand that still rested there, and you appreciated it. Indeed, the sky was already beginning to lighten. “How about some tea to start the day, miss? Or maybe coffee?”

“That’s fine.” You said, accepting that he would guide you through the mansion once more, but stopped when you realized your brother wasn’t making an effort to follow. “Damian, aren’t you coming?”

Your hopeful tone made him huff and approach to follow you. “Let’s go then.” He joined you, heading downstairs.

Damian was deeply irritated by how easily you let your emotions come and go. To him, it was inconceivable that you weren’t resentful, even hating him, as he had presumed you would be just moments ago. The way you let your emotions dissipate so easily bothered him, and he couldn’t understand how you could forgive so simply.

This behavior had always been the target of Damian’s criticism, as he didn’t have the same ease with forgiveness. What ate him up inside, however, was the certainty that even if you found out everything he and Talia had done, you would still be able to forgive them.

Damian suspected that this readiness to forgive came from a lack of options. Throughout your life, you had only him and your mother, and breaking away from either of them would be devastating. Perhaps that was Talia’s greatest fear; even if she tried to convince herself that she kept you hidden for your own good, away from the League and Batman, Damian knew that deep down, she wanted to ensure a safe harbor, someone who would always be emotionally supportive.

Although you might appear to be an very naive girl, your morals were unwavering. And incredibly, Talia managed to keep you loyal to her. Both of them knew that you secretly hated criminals and dreamed of a perfect justice that would never exist, at least not in Gotham City.

Damian knew that his mother’s real fear was that you would find someone else beyond her, people with whom you could connect, not out of obligation or lack of other options, but because you genuinely wanted to. This emotional dependency, nurtured by Talia, made you more spoiled than Damian, who in turn always confronted Talia with stubbornness and resistance.

“Do you like any fruit?” Pennyworth asked you, who were with your arms crossed on the counter, while your brother sat at the end of the table, just keeping watch over your figure.

“All of them.” You replied, and Alfred laughed contentedly. It was nice to hear something like that, especially as he opened the kitchen cupboard and saw the colorful cereals inside, all from Tim’s never-ending stash of treats.

“Master Damian?” The butler asked the boy.

“No, thank you.” He declined with a grimace.

You watched with curiosity as Alfred grabbed a bunch of colorful fruits and began cutting them. There was some kind of dough resting in a container nearby, which you noticed when he moved a cloth to check, and it smelled so good. It was comforting to see him there in the kitchen, even doing something as simple as cutting fruits.

Talia was a very busy woman, and cooking definitely didn’t suit her elegant demeanor. Housework was not part of her routine, so you often ended up eating at expensive restaurants. That’s why every move Alfred made captured your attention, and he noticed.

“Do you want to help me, miss?” He asked, intrigued.

“Can I?” You asked back, already moving to stand next to him with excitement. The butler nodded and instructed you to wash your hands in the sink on the other side of the kitchen.

You were distractedly scrubbing soap on your hands and far enough not to hear Damian whisper: “Bruce isn’t going to let Mom take her home.”

Alfred looked up, not at all surprised by the news. “Does your sister know, Master Damian?” He kept his voice at the same low tone as the boy’s.

“No, Pennyworth. That’s why I’m telling you.” Damian checked to see if you were still far, seeing you drying your hands and hurrying: “When they both come out of that room and Mom leaves, she’s going to make a fuss.”

“What should I do?” You came back, interrupting their conversation and asking for instructions.

Alfred set you the task of removing the stems from the strawberries until a noise from upstairs alerted all three of you. It sounded like glass, and it didn’t take long to hear Talia’s voice calling for the butler, who moved to go to her.

“I’m leaving,” Talia said with a firmness that disguised well the inner turmoil she was facing behind her attitude.

You were stunned, and a rising panic took hold of you. Alfred hadn’t noticed you had followed him until you heard: “I’m going to get my shoes and coat.” You declared. Your mind was spinning with the idea that your mother was angry with you, seeing how she was acting.

Talia turned slightly to you, but the look she gave was impassive. “You’re not coming,” she said. The coldness in her voice wasn’t unfamiliar but struck deep in your chest. “You’re going to stay here with your brother.”

“But…” You tried to process what was happening, needing to look at Damian next to you for a moment until reality hit you back. “Why?” You asked with a trembling breath, already approaching her and grabbing your mother’s hand in desperation.

“For heaven’s sake, Y/n. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She rolled her eyes and looked at you with impatience. “You and Damian will get to spend time together again.”

“But what about you, Mom? Why can’t we all be together?” You clung to her hand even tighter, trying to keep her there forever, but all you received in return was the look she gave when you upset her.

“I’ll send your things with someone. Be obedient.” She said, but her real desire was for you to be rebellious, especially towards Bruce. Your mother crouched to your height and pinched your cheeks with her hands while whispering so the other two wouldn’t hear: “But remember, you’re mine daughter, understand? Your mother will always be here for you. I’ll get in touch.” She gave you a strong kiss, leaving a perfect lipstick mark, and grabbed the coat that was already in Alfred’s hands with haste.

“I want to go with you!” Talia felt your arms around her waist and sighed.

“You're old enough to be acting like this, Y/n. Let go.” She tried to wriggle free on her own, but your grip was so strong that her fingers barely moved. “Y/n, enough!” She shouted genuinely furious, and you jumped back in fear. The sight made her wilt, but she still suppressed it and opened the door.

You were in shock, never imagining that your actions could have led to this. It was as if she hated you for it, and you felt a pressure on your forehead, unsure if it was from the anger you felt at how your mother treated you or from the desperation.

“Don’t go after her,” Damian ordered, knowing you would do it anyway, which is why he held you in place.

You couldn’t accept it. The idea of being left behind, the feeling of being rejected by the only family you knew, was overwhelming. “Mom!” You shouted, struggling to free yourself from Damian’s grip in fury, the sadness totaly replaced by a burning rage. “Don’t leave! I’m sorry for disobeying! I didn’t mean to do anything wrong!” you screamed. “Why are you like this with me?!” You shouted louder, not caring about making a scene.

Talia’s feet were already buried in the snow, trying to hide the pain she felt, but your muffled voice didn’t help. The sound of the door closing was like a final blow, and her heart sank even further. She didn’t care whether Bruce was right or not; she hated him like hell now.

You were sobbing and gasping, the pain of rejection still present in your chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disobey. I didn’t want you to leave…” You murmured lower, feeling your throat ache.

As she took more steps towards her own car, her thoughts raced. She knew that sooner or later you would need to know the truth, and deep down, she wished the news had come from her.

She tried to keep her mind clear during the brief walk to the car, passing by a snow-covered tree where ravens had gathered to rest. She was so distracted for a few seconds that when she felt an arm pull her back, she instinctively threw the stranger away, who hit the trunk and caused the birds to start flying erratically while cawing discordantly.

“What the hell is this!” She shouted furiously, shocking the boy who immediately began to apologize while getting up, feeling pain.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Scare me?!” She was outraged by his assumption. As if she would be scared by a kid like him. “And which of Bruce’s little pests are you?”

“My name is Tim.” The boy assumed a serious tone now, abandoning the polite courtesy he had before.

“And are you going to stand there like an idiot, or are you going to tell me what you want?”

Despite her hurry, Tim stared at her and looked back, checking if there was anyone outside the mansion and taking a few seconds to do so. Talia’s arrogant look didn’t intimidate him, and he spoke firmly:

“A few years ago, in that alley…” The phrase made her eyes widen, but she still took a deep breath to compose herself. “It was you.”

Talia never thought she would have the opportunity to face that boy again after that day. When Strange fled, she followed him and caught up with him. She remembers how she grabbed the man by the collar when she didn’t see you there. After wringing the truth out of that pathetic man, Talia had to let him go as she rushed desperately to where you were, but not before leaving a beaten face as a gift. But that night, that boy... Tim, had heard your call for help.

“So, you were the Robin.” She let out a curious laugh, looking Tim up and down. “And so what if it was me?”

“You tricked me. Pretended to be a helpless person.” He frowned while narrowing his eyes at her. “I remember the little girl I saved; it was her.” Tim turned his face towards the mansion again, as if to point at you.

“You just had the luck of arriving before me. And what did you expect me to do? Tell you who I was?” She took her gloves out of her pocket and began putting them on. “Do you think you could have caught me, kid?” She laughed sarcastically this time, belittling him.

“You could have told me the truth. You had the opportunity to tell Bruce about Hugo Strange all this time. We could have protected her.” Tim’s eyes moved around, trying to process. “After I left there, Bruce and I continued on patrol and found him passed out. If we had known who he really was, he might be in jail now.”

“Spare me your laments, kid. She’s going to stay here, isn’t she? So what else do you want?” Talia said, and Tim wasn’t surprised by the information. He had already assessed the scene while waiting to approach her outside. He had jumped through the bedroom window, having not been able to sleep after recognizing your face.

Tim remained silent. It seemed that Talia had a very concrete idea about everything, and it made no sense to try to circle her with assumptions about how things could have been. He couldn’t help but feel foolish, realizing that you had been so close to him at some point, and he couldn’t do anything for Bruce since he didn’t know.

“Listen.” Talia’s surprisingly soft voice caught him off guard. “Thank you for helping, even though I didn’t exactly need it.” Despite trying to be understanding, she couldn’t help but emphasize. “She means everything to me, you understand? Put some sense into your father, or I’ll find a way to take her back, and I promise you’ll never see her again.”

Tim swallowed hard at the mention of Bruce but snorted indifferently soon after. “He’s not as bad as he seems.”

“I noticed.” She murmured with irony and turned to walk away, with Tim not interrupting her this time. The boy watched her go to the car, but suddenly she stopped at the gate. She ran her fingers over the electronic lock, and suddenly some loose wires became visible. Tim found it strange, and Talia looked at him with a smile, which even from a distance, he could see.

“I think you’re going to need someone to fix this.” She shouted for him to hear, and for a moment, Tim thought if she had done it, but only now did he wonder how you had gotten past the front gate. It seems that your innocent face hid some skills. “Don’t pamper her, and tell your father and Pennyworth not to let her eat too much sugar.” She let the wires go while grumbling, slamming the car door, and driving away.

Tag list:

@lafrone @sylum @mileskisser @belowbreadcrumbs @riddle-me-im-sirius @rafa-the-beautiful @shehrazadekey @fairuzwhat @bedeater @arianapjs @idonthaveanameforthisacc @azulawayne @nciolisa @lovelywritersgarden @spideybv28 @faimmm @cherry-peach-flavored @godknows-shetried @randomrosie01 @whatsupstark @paastaboi @m3ntally-unstable @masterradd-28 @justanormalpersin @6000-fandoms @fennecspage @homan-oid @fluffy-strawberries @animegirlfromvietnam @tamsyien @ari-sama21 @kataraluvr @boatempollstriper @lokisgoodboy @enjisthings @thereeallink @lumalesa-kadichizho @fyodorssimp1 @shintax-error @lara20aral @sulatsadark @notahappystan @nebuluma @thetiredtoad0-0 @tmt-alexis @anuttellaa @strawberrymangoes @lorastone-000 @starryhiraeth @worldussysblog @urminebutidontwantyou @herondale-lightworm @nyra-42 @ohnoivefallen @an-introverted-nishinoyasimp @ellie-x0xo @blkmystery @formula-space @sparks0918 @cosmicqueenieb @rukia-uchiha-98 @leeleecats @camilo-uwu @phoenixgurl030 @rosegardenpatsu @nickey-diano @wpdarlingpan @xxrougefangxx

@m4chine-girl @kellyyn02 @urminebutidontwantyou

[hazelfoureyes]

I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 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

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.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late. 

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence. 

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth. 

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash. 

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off. 

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim. 

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now. 

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow. 

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of. 

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter. 

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you. 

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.” 

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better. 

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so. 

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up. 

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his. 

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror. 

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks. 

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean. 

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile. 

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely. 

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek. 

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon. 

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?” 

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before. 

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad?  Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star. 

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes. 

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.” 

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.” 

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers. 

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man. 

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die. 

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying. 

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy. 

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving. 

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously.  He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat. 

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead. 

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps. 

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you? 

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.” 

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning. 

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.  

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move. 

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch. 

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm. 

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you. 

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone.  You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean. 

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[dinogoofymutated]

Circus freaks

Nightcrawler/GN! reader - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - Part 4 WAZAAAAP. I missed you guys!! I'm not entirely happy with this chapter bc I feel like the ending is a little fast, but once again the word count was getting a little too long and I felt I might need to seperate it again. I put it to a vote, and although it was hella neck and neck unlike any vote i've done before lmao, Splitting chapter 3 was the option that won. Next chapter will be all about Kurt and reader learning about each other all over again TWs: Fire, Smoke, museums. Cliffhanger, Very slight comfort. Depictions of nightmares and burning animals, not a lot of kurt in this one bc the buildup is too good not to milk my bad guys.

    The drive from the airport is long, rainy, and sleepy. The cab is cramped and smells a little strange, but the driver is polite enough and happy to accept your cash. Your stomach is turning in knots with every twist and turn down the long, wooded road, and through the gaps in the trees, you can see a tall roof in the distance. The gate to the long driveway is open, which eases a bit of your nervousness. The shadow of a bird flies overhead as the cab begins to slow, and you can only hope you’re right about all of this when the impressive front door comes into view. 

    The cab drops you off without much care, speeding away just about the second you get both feet and your suitcase on the ground. Must not be a fan of the area, you guess. You open your umbrella as fast as you can, trying not to chew on the inside of your cheeks while staring at that door. It’s a wonder how something with such cutesy spring wreaths can feel so intimidating. 

    Just knock already! The crow (now named Otto, through no choice of your own), caws, landing on your shoulder. You’re not surprised at his entrance, a bit comforted by the familiar weight on your shoulder if anything. You make a face at him, before taking a deep breath. You straighten your spine a little before walking to the door.

    For a school of such renown, the yard is pretty… empty. There’s not a soul outside, but you are here at 10 am on a Monday in the pouring rain, so… Regardless, school must be in, right? You assume it would be, but the exaggerated amount of time you spend waiting at the door begins to make you question yourself again.

  Your breath catches a little when you hear the deadbolt unlock, trying to look polite as the door opens just a crack and a scruffy man stands in the doorway, holding the door so that his shoulder blocks out any sort of entrance. He has a rather sour look on his face, eyes barely flicking towards Otto before landing back on you, looking you up and down in a way that’s entirely too intimidating. 

    “Hi. I’m looking for the Xavier’s school?” You say sweetly. He doesn't say anything and abruptly shuts the door in your face. 

    Wow, that guy’s got an attitude problem. 

    That was an understatement, you think. You take another breath to shake it off, and knock again. This time, it opens back up before you finish knocking. The same man stands before you.

    “What do you want?” He grumbles, curtly.

    “I-I was hoping to speak to Charles Xavier. I understand that you must be very busy people but-” You don’t even get to finish your sentence this time before you feel the whoosh of air as the door closes again. You make a face at that, trying to keep composure while you try to decide if you’re feeling pissed or just disappointed. All this build-up to get here, just for a door in your face. Otto lets out an offended huff, and you feel the weight on your shoulder shift as he hops off. With a few flaps of his wings, he grabs hold of the doorframe, twisting so that he himself can incessantly rap at the door. 

    The door opens again, and the man looks angrier this time. Otto swings upside down from the frame like a bat, cawing at him in a taunting manner. The man begins to open his mouth to yell at you about god knows what, when he’s interrupted. 

    “Logan?” He sighs as a voice calls out from behind him, and you give him a curious look as he rolls his eyes. “Open the door. Don’t make those poor souls wait in the rain any longer.” The man, Logan, you’re assuming, takes a step away from the door as he opens it wide, making room for a man with a bright smile and a wheelchair to stroll to the doorway. Otto hops down from the doorframe, landing back on your shoulder while giving Logan a smug look you’re choosing to ignore. You recognize the face of the man in the wheelchair from many different magazines and news stories, but seeing him in person still lights a spark of hope in your heart. 

    “Good morning,” You start. “You must be Professor Xavier. My name is-”

    “I know who you are, my dear.” He says, hardly even stopping to think. “There’s no need to worry. Come, Welcome to Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters.” He makes way for you to step inside, and his warmth makes you smile and relax a bit. You do your best not to be a rude guest, shaking your umbrella out and wiping your feet before stepping through the doorway. You pass by Logan as you do so, holding the door open and still looking a bit sourly at Otto on your shoulder. Once the door is closed, Otto promptly shakes the rain off of his own feathers just as you set your umbrella in the holder, causing both you and Logan to grunt unhappily and Charles to chuckle. 

    The inside of the school is the exact opposite of the courtyard. It’s bustling with life, people of all kinds running out and about, some with books or otherwise. They chatter comfortably, some waving to the professor as they pass. Every one of them is a mutant and its… amazing. You can’t help but stop and stare in wonder at everyone living so freely and without fear. The exact opposite of how you had been feeling all these years. It takes the brush of Logan’s shoulder against your own for you to realize that the professor has started moving again, and you hurry to catch up.

    “I suppose if you know who I am, you might know why I’m here?” You begin once you do, letting that treasonous little spark of hope burn a little brighter. You know there’s no guarantee he’s here, nothing but a headline and a torn newspaper article about the X-men as your tip. Otto had brought it to you, having found it god knows where. You had been looking for years at this point, only running on word of mouth, beak, and muzzle. But this? This had a photo. One stained and wet and with runny ink- but you felt that you could recognize that figure anywhere. Charles chuckles at the thought. 

    “I do.” He hums, “Kurt’s going to be delighted to see you.” He finishes. You feel your heart jump at the words. You reach his office, and he rolls behind his desk, inviting you to sit down.

    “So he’s- is he?-” You trail off, and the professor’s face turns rather sympathetic. Logan is standing in the doorway, and Xavier nods him on, not that you really remembered that he was there anyway. Your heart begins to sink, falling straight into your stomach as the door clicks shut, Logan closing it behind him on his way out. 

    “Not quite. Not yet.” Xavier says. Otto scoffs on your shoulder, hopping over to perch on the other chair while he grumbles something you can't really hear. You try to calm your nerves, doing your best to stay optimistic.

    “But he will be, won’t he?” You ask, voice cracking a little. Xavier smiles again, beginning to gather some files on his desk.

    “He’s become a valuable and irreplaceable member of my X-men, and as such, I had tasked him and a few others with something rather urgent a short time ago. I apologize for that, if I had known you were coming I would have kept him here instead.” All these years of looking for him, and you missed him by what, a week? It’s disappointing, but… You still found him. All that’s left is to finally see him again. The thought of it surfaces with a new kind of anxiety.

    “How long will he be away?” You ask. The professor shakes his head, reaching for something in the filing cabinet by his desk.

    “I wish I had a better answer to give you. I know many things, but it’s hard to know just how long they will be gone. It could take weeks for him to return to us.” His words make you frown. You feel conflicted, and you quickly realize that it probably should have been a good idea to have made a better backup plan before you actually got on that first plane. You taste that bitter feeling of disappointment again as the professor turns around, facing you with a small manilla packet with a number on it. When he hands it to you, you realize it contains a room key. You look up at him in confusion, and he gives you a reassuring smile.

    “You’re welcome to stay at the school for as long as you’d like while awaiting his return, if you are comfortable of course.” You furrow your brow, opening your mouth to speak-  “-and no, I promise you won’t be inconveniencing anyone at all.” He finishes. You relax a little, smiling softly back at him.

    “...Thank you. I would appreciate that greatly.” Otto begins to caw again, rather peeved at the lack of attention he was receiving. As if he could understand Otto even better than you, Xavier is quick to speak up again.

    “Why don’t we start with getting the two of you something to eat? I know your journey must have been very tiresome.”

     Oh, did he have any idea.

     In the weeks that go by while you stay at the mansion, you try to make yourself useful. You're certainly no certified teacher, but when the professor asks you to help out with a few classes, who are you to say no? In time, this place that seemed so unusual and yet welcoming was just another factor of life. Kids are comfortable in their own skin, unafraid of being discriminated against, being taught by other mutants just like themselves. Being taught by you, sometimes. It felt good. And yet, there's still a part of you that hears Stephan's words ringing in your head, no matter how hard you try to shake it.

    You make friends while you're here. Many of which come and go as members of the X-men, and yet every time the Blackbird lands, the one person you want to see is absent. Jean is the first one you become close with. She’s kind, and you find that the two of you have similar taste in books. The first time you met, she recognized you before you could even introduce yourself. 

    “You're Kurt's friend?” She had asked, and although you felt a little strange with the title, you very quickly became known as Kurt’s Friend with the other X-men as well. Sure, they weren't wrong, but you were a bit more than friends, weren't you? You felt like you were. All this time making friends with the others, having movie nights and going out together with Jean, Ororo, and Rogue… It should have made you feel like you were settling in- and sure, it had. But the longer you stay here, the more anxious you become. 

    Every time you look in the mirror, you remember just how different you are now. You were barely 17 the last time you saw Kurt, and it's been many years since then. You've changed. He's changed no doubt. What did he look like now? Did he still think of you? Does he remember your promise, and is he mad at you for taking so long to find him? Surely, he wouldn’t be, right? You've heard from the others that he had bounced around a few places before landing here, so it's not like he made himself easy to find. These anxious thoughts overwhelmed you, and the past still followed you like a dark cloud.

    You feel like you’re burning up when your eyes flick open. Your bed is warm and the sheets are sweaty, your heart still pounding with fear as you shake off the nightmare. Otto is gone, the window cracked open from his nightly escapades, but you know he'll return in the early hours of the morning. Your hands are burning painfully again, and when you turn on your bedside lamp, you can't help but stare at the scars on your hands. You haven’t had full feeling in them since the fire, and yet that phantom pain, just like the nightmares, refuses to leave you.

    You dream about that night often. You dream about the bodies. The smell of charred flesh and fur. You dream about Nyla, speaking to you in that wise way of hers as she burns and melts into the vision of her corpse you have never been able to shake. You used to run out to the stables on nights like this, fresh after the incident. Your dad had bought Bubbles at auction after she was deemed unfit to perform, so you would talk to her until you had calmed. Nowadays, you'd call your dad and ask him to check on her. Tell her you loved her and missed her. But tonight, you simply venture into the kitchen instead.

   You don't bother turning the lights on, having walked the path from the cup cabinets and to the water filter a few too many times before. It's not the first time you've been up this late at night, and it's far from the last. You still feel hot and overwhelmed, choosing one particular seat at the island that just happens to be under the air vent. The cool air brushes against your skin in a welcome prickle, and you quietly take in the feeling.

    The lamp in the corner turns on in a flash, and you jump violently in surprise. Logan is standing there with a hand on the string, cocking an eyebrow at you. You sigh, hand over your heart as the rapid beating begins to slow only slightly. 

    “You scared me.” You whisper, hardly having enough energy to do anything but rub your eyes and take a deep breath. You hear Logan hum in response as he leaves the lamp and strolls behind the counter, opening the fridge and beginning to look through it.

    “Third time this week.” He says, but you don’t really understand him.

    “What?” You ask, but he doesn't respond. Instead, he pulls out a soda from the back of the fridge and offers one to you. You shake your head at him, and he shrugs. The soda can clicks as he cracks it open, sitting across the island from you. 

    “Third time this week you’ve been up this late.” He clarifies, after taking a long sip. You let out a small “oh” in response, frowning as you look down at your water. The two of you sit in silence for a while, before Logan speaks up.

    “...They getting worse again?” He asks. You bite your lip, not really knowing how to respond. You don’t really know what to think about the fact that you’ve been here long enough for Logan to establish your sleep patterns well enough to know you’ve had nightmares this often. You know he’s probably aware that you’ve had far more nightmares this week just by your scent in the mornings, but you’re thankful that he doesn’t say anything. 

    “...Yeah.” Is all you can muster at the moment. Logan takes another sip, and you’re once again grateful at the fact that he doesn’t look like he pities you for it. Hell, with the bare minimum you knew about him, you were sure he probably related to the restless nights. It’s quiet between you for a time, the two of you sharing the silence almost comfortingly if it weren't for the heavy topic. He doesn’t pry about your dreams, and you don’t ask about his own. 

   “Do you think he’ll like me, when I see him again?” You whisper eventually. Logan looks at you, and he doesn’t have to ask who you’re talking about. After all, who else would it be?

    “Do you think he won’t?” Logan returns. You press your lips into a line, thinking.

    “I don’t know.” Logan scoffs at that, and you give him a look that he rolls his eyes at. “I haven’t seen him since we were kids, Logan. I don’t know what to expect.”

    “Exactly. You haven’t seen him in years- but you’re here. Aren’t you? And we already knew who you were when you showed up. Isn’t that enough to prove to you he still cares?” Logan’s tone is blunt, and you wish you could agree with him, but you don’t. You stare down at your palms again, and if Logan notices, he doesn't say anything. 

    It’s been two months since you’ve been at the school. You help out here and there, fill in for the others when they need a substitute, and do anything that makes you feel less like a freeloader, really. No one can say for sure where Kurt is, and you get the feeling that the others cannot really talk about it. As long as he was safe, that’s all that matters. Not that you really knew if he was or not. 

    There’s a field trip today. Ororo, Rouge, and Scott are absent on X-men duties, so you volunteer as a chaperone so that Jean and Logan aren’t overrun by the students. The morning starts early. You load kids onto the bus, hand out some mini-muffins for breakfast, and Jean finishes the role call while waiting for Logan. The bus is a little older and the seats are rather cramped, but the air is electric with the kid’s excitement despite the early hour. Otto is by your side as always, choosing to ride with you for once instead of flying overhead. The kids are smothering him with attention and feeding him muffin crumbs, and he lavishes in it. Logan rolls his eyes at the bird when he finally gets on, and the students cheer as the bus begins to move. You were sure many of them hadn’t been to a natural history museum before, and you hadn’t either. Their excitement was contagious, and you quickly find yourself looking forward to the day ahead 

    That energy from the morning is a distant memory when the fire alarm in the museum begins to go off. Walls have crumbled, the building is smoking, and the footsteps of sentinels are loud as they wreck everything in sight. You keep your kids close, constantly counting heads as you try to lead them to safety. But the smoke is thick, and your palms are once again burning as you try to shake your past while braving the present. 

    The students had been separated into three groups earlier that day, one for each of the chaperones, and you all had different schedules for the museum while agreeing to meet up at the pavilion for lunch at a specific time. It had started as such a good day. But good things never last, do they? Not for you, they didn't. 

    Some of your students are crying, others coughing from the smoke, and the older ones are simply tired. It’s hard to see where you’re going, the smoke mixed with the dim and dark museum lights a bad combination. You can still hear the distant footsteps of the two large sentinels that interrupted the day, and every once in a while, the bone-chilling sound of their blasts. The hallways are empty as you try to find the emergency exit, most of the other guests taking the chance to bolt out the most obvious ones-or hell, the holes in the walls that had been blasted open by the sentinels as they wrecked the place. But you weren’t any other guests, you were mutants, and that meant getting out of danger by taking the least obvious exit possible. 

    You don’t know where the fire is, but you know it’s raging within the building. You needed to get these kids out, and soon- but as you continue to follow each and every glowing sign pointing to the exit, the smoke only gets thicker. The building begins to shake again, and some of the students cry a little louder. You’re counting heads again when everything stops, and a sharp caw meets your ears. Otto swoops in, a shadow in the dark hallway as he lands nearby, chest heaving. The sight of him only makes you panic more. He knows he can’t be in here- the smoke is too much for his lungs, deadly for a bird of any size. 

    There’s an exit close by! The staff have propped open the doors because the fire is spreading faster- He hacks something horrible, a noise that only makes your anxiety worse. The guy with the attitude problem is leading the sentinels away, but you gotta get out of here soon. You swear under your breath, and as you turn to count heads one more time before instructing your group, you become aware of a tugging from the girl clinging to you.

    “Where’s Alyah?” She asks, right as ice shoots through your veins. You’re missing two. 

    Oh god. Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!

    Theres no time for this. You can’t dwell on it, not now. The students are scared, faces a reflection of terror as you look at them all. The plan comes out of your mouth before you have time to think it through enough.

    “Jan, I need you to do something for me.” The teen steps forward nervously. The eldest of the group, Jan was 17, with a shielding mutation that was stronger than Vibranum with the proper focus. “Alyah and her brother are missing, and I need to go find them.” Jan starts to shake their head, already ahead of you.

    “No, no no. I can’t-” They begin. You step forward, placing your palms on their cheeks in an attempt to soothe, making them look at you.

    “Yes, you can. Look at me. Otto is going to show you the way out, I just need you to keep everyone together, and prepare to shield in case the building goes down. I know you can do this. I’ll meet you out there as soon as I can, I just need you to get everyone else out first, Okay? Okay?” They're still shaking their head no, but you don't have any other choice. The last thing you want to do is put this all on someone so young, but you needed Jan to be strong for both themselves and the others. Otto Caws again as the building starts to shake, and you know the time for this conversation is up. You take a step back as the youngest of the group begins to hold onto Jan. They look at you, and then the others, and then back at you. They purse their lips and nod, and you know they’re going to be okay. 

    You only stay long enough to make sure the entirety of the students in your group are following Otto to the exit before you quickly retrace your steps down the smokey hallway. The building continues to shake, metal and concrete bending and screaming as you desperately try to figure out where the two kids could have gone. You counted all 15 at the paleontology section, and again at the hominin artifacts… 

    You can’t begin to panic. Not now. Eventually, you have to stop. You breathe as deeply as you can, and you try to gather your senses. There’s no one to ask, no animal or bird or person, and in times like these you wish your mutant ability had been anything else- and then you hear it.

    There’s muffled cries coming from the adjacent room. You quickly make your way over, stepping over debris and fallen statues, and in the corner of this small room is Alyah and her brother, Malachi. You breathe a sigh of relief, rushing over to them as they call out your name.

    “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You ask them, trying to be as calm as possible. Malachi only cries, rushing forward to hug you. 

    “I’m sorry.” Alyah cries, grabbing ahold of your shirt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get lost. Malachi tripped- and I was trying to help him but when we got up we didn’t see you and-” You shush her, gathering her in a big hug with her brother. 

    “It’s okay! You’re okay. We just need to leave, alright? We need to leave now.” You tell her, doing your best to still stay calm. She doesn't have time to respond before the building rumbles again, sending the three of you unsteady on your feet as the ground begins to shake. There’s a screech above you, and you barley manage to cover the heads of the two young mutants as the doorway collapses into rubble. No, no no no. The kids begin to cry louder, scared. Mindless reassurances fall from your mouth as you stare in horror, trapped in the room with no way out. 

    The kids curl into your arms, and you don't know what to do. Another loud rumble makes you flinch as the shaking gets worse. You pull them in close, hunching over them as they sob. The room smells like sulfur and brimstone, the noise of the building too loud to hear anything else as the bones of the museum begin to give out, crumbling on top of you.

    A second later, your head is spinning.

    The warmth of the stuffy, smokey room is gone, replaced by the cool air of the breeze. Someone's arms fall away from you, and when you open your eyes, you're outside. Your heart is still beating like it's going to give out as you whisper to Alyah and Malachi that everything is okay, leaning back enough to check on them, brushing hair away from their face and making sure that you're all here, somehow.

    “Are all of you alright?” A voice behind you asks- and it's… familiar. 

    It's like the world stills. You see the look on Malachi's face when he recognizes the figure of one of his teachers, a bright smile spreading across his cheeks as he pulls away from you and bolts for the man.

    “Nightcrawler!” The boy cheers. Your eyes follow him as he jumps into the arms of a familiar face. Elf-like ears. Yellow eyes, and fuzzy blue skin. You stand in shock, Kurt swinging Malachi around in a big hug as Alyah joins her brother and Latches onto him as tight as she can muster. He's saying something to them, but you can't hear it past the blood thats rushing in your ears.

    “Kurt?” His name comes out a little more broken than you intended, but he hears it all the same. The smile on his face instantly drops as his head snaps away from the kids and over to the spot where you stand. He's frozen for a second, but the recognition in his eyes is immediate. Kurt sets Malachi down carefully before disappearing completely. It takes only a fraction of a second before he's back again in a puff of smoke and his arms are tightly wound around you.

    “You’re here? Mein Gott, I cannot believe that you are actually here.” He says airily, almost in complete disbelief. You're hugging him back just as tightly, face buried in his chest as your hands clutch at the fabric of his suit. You don't know what to say. You've been looking for years, and then you waited for months knowing he's right at your fingertips. And now that he's finally here, you don't have any words. His face is full of joy when he pulls back a bit, hands coming to cup your cheeks as he takes a good look at you.

    “Look at you, more beautiful than ever!” Kurt cheers, and your hands come up to hold his wrists as you shake your head and laugh at him. He hasn't changed, has he? His smile falters only slightly when he sees the scars on your hands, but he looks up before he says anything, and his eyes go wide with panic. 

   You’re gone from the spot instantly, Kurt having teleported you to the kids, grabbed them, and teleported away before you could even form a thought about the situation. Once you get your bearings, you realize the four of you are far, far away from the spot where you had been standing, and in your place is a crater of smoke and ash, a sentinel now standing in your place. Its head moves, searching for the mutants it had missed, but you don't see it for long as Kurt grabs you by the shoulders. 

    “I've got this from here. I just need you to get back to the bus. Jean and the other students are waiting there already.” His face is serious, his brows furrowed, and completely different than you had ever seen before. You nod, reluctant to leave him the moment you finally had him back- but he gives you a reassuring smile, and you realize he already knows. 

   “I’ll be back for you, Schatz. I promise.” He pulls you close again, pressing a quick kiss to your temple, and as quick as he came, he’s gone once again.

[spiderb00]

Fam Out 4

Sophia Laforteza X Reader 

Synopsis - Preparations for Christmas are beginning. 

Genre – Fluff   Warnings – none 

a/n - This is the first chapter about Christmas, I'm still not sure how many chapters with Christmas themes there will be, but I think at most three. <3 

previous chapter | next chapter | Fam out masterlist

The noise of the drill could be heard throughout the house, you had recently moved in, with your job giving a good financial return you had finally managed to buy a bigger house. You've always wanted a house with plenty of space to entertain your family and friends, and after Sophia confessed to you her desire to have a family with you, you were immediately buying a house so that you and your future family could build your memories.   

The house was really huge, three floors, six bedrooms, all with closet and suite, and three more bathrooms outside the bedrooms. The living room was huge, and Sophia had been enchanted by the large fireplace that the room had, the kitchen was spacious and well decorated, there was also a glass door that gave the view of her pool, a picnic table. 

Everything in that house seemed to scream comfort, and even more so now, with you decorating and positioning everything in its places. You put the drill down, finishing assembling the bookcase that Sophia wanted to put in the room of the two of you. Hearing the noise of the front door opening, you quickly descended the stairs, finding your girlfriend carrying some bags and Yoonchae looking at every corner of the house with admiring looks. It was the first time the younger girl had seen your house, and it seemed that she was quickly being impressed by the size and cozy décor.   

"Look, my favorite girls are here." You said, giving Yoonchae a kiss on the forehead and quickly grabbing the bags from Sophia's hands, giving the Filipina a kiss on the lips soon after.   

With a smile, Sophia followed you into the kitchen, much more comfortable after you took the weight of the bags off her hands. 

"You have pieces of wood on your shirt." The Filipina says, carefully brushing the dirt from your white t-shirt, leaning over again and kissing your lips for a long time.  

 "Well, I'm finally done putting together your bookshelf. I also hung some Christmas decorations around the house, and also set up the security alarm. I think I need a shower." You said, Sophia's eyes were shining, and yours weren't much different. 

You both knew that everything you were doing there was so that in the future everything would be ready for your plans.   

 "This house is very big, and it is also very cool. The fireplace is fluffy." Yoonchae said, popping into the kitchen, probably after exploring the first floor of the house a bit.  

Sophia turned her back to you, looking at the younger girl. Her back now pressed in front of you as you wrapped your arms around the lower girl's waist and gave Yoonchae a smile.   

"Glad you liked it, Yn and I were thinking you could have a room here, you know, for when you want some alone time..."     

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?" Yoonchae said, interrupting Sophia, causing the Filipino girl to let out a laugh.  

"Yeah, we're, I mean, you're almost always with us, so we thought you might like to have a room of your own, you know, your space." You said, completing what Sophia tried to say.   

"Oh my god, YES! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Yoonchae said, jumping up and hugging you and Sophia. You both laughed, hugging the younger girl back. 

"Then go choose your room." You said, making Yoonchae pull away from the hug and run down the stairs.  

"DON'T RUN ON THE STAIRS." Sophia screamed, making you shudder slightly and then laugh. 

Pushing the shopping cart through the store, you tried to find Sophia and Yoonchae, who had entered and left you behind. The girls were more than excited to buy the Christmas presents, Sophia had been talking about it all week, and when she finally made time out of her busy schedule, she dragged you and Yoonchae to the nearest store. Finally finding Sophia, you approached, making the girl instantly throw three different things into the cart. The three of them being kitchen electronics.   

"Where's Yoonchae?" You ask, looking at the shorter woman, who continues to evaluate the products on the shelves.   

"She said something about a bear in Santa Claus clothes. She should be back soon." Sophia says nonchalantly, you both knew Yoonchae was smart, so she wouldn't get very far. 

"Don't we already have a mixer at home?" You asked, looking at the shorter woman and taking the item out of the cart.   

"Hey. Put it back, light hand. This is a gift for my mother." Sophia says, looking at you with her eyes half-closed.   

 Laughing lightly, you put the electronics back where it was, raising your hands in surrender.   

"So, what do you think I'm going to get you for Christmas?" Sophia says, leaning over to pick up something from the bottom of the shelf. 

"I hope that's what I've had my eye on." You said laughing, your gaze glued to your girlfriend.  

When she realized what you were talking about, Sophia quickly stood up correctly, slapping your arm, with her brows furrowed.   

"Stop it, we're in public, and Yoonchae can come back at any moment, you idiot." The Filipina says, her voice menacing.  

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself, I date the most beautiful woman in the whole world." You say, running your arms around the waist of the shorter girl and leaning in for a kiss.   

"I'm going to look for Yoonchae, will you be okay without me?" Sophia rolls her eyes at your speech.  

"I'll try." The girl says, making you laugh and go in a new direction. 

Looking in different directions as you walk, you spot Yoonchae up close to several teddy bears, all dressed as Santa. The younger girl had two bears in her arms while she seemed somewhat reluctant about which one to choose.   

"What happened, Yoonchip?" You approach, using the nickname you and the Kats usually call the girl.  

"They're so cute, I can't choose one of them." The girl says, looking between the bears in her hands. 

"Take both." You said, patting yourself on the shoulder for resolving the situation quickly.   

"I didn't bring my wallet, Sophia said she would buy one of them for me." She said, still looking closely at the bears, analyzing in detail to know which one would win the cuteness contest.  

"How about you take them both and I pay for them, no problem at all." You said.   

"Really? Thank you Yn!" Yoonchae said, hugging you quickly and then running in the direction where Sophia was.  

"Hey, I'll buy both bears, don't worry." You said as you approached Sophia, kissing the top of the lower woman's head. 

"What are you talking about?" Sophia asked, her brows furrowed in confusion.  

"You said you'd only buy one, but she was doubtful, and since Yoonchae didn't bring the wallet I said I'd buy both for her." You said, explaining the situation to Sophia.   

Laughing lightly, Sophia approached you, grabbing the back of your neck lightly and giving your lips a kiss. Walking away still with a smile on her face, the Filipina spoke; 

"I think it's very cute of you, but I didn't say anything about it to Yoonchae. And I'm pretty sure she brought her wallet in her purse. You were deceived, beautiful." Sophia said, giving you one more kiss on your lips and pulling away, leaving you perplexed behind.

While you and Sophia were trying to fit all the gifts you bought inside the trunk of your car, Yoonchae saw a strange movement happening in the parking lot. Looking calmly at the younger girl she could see several people going out with puppies in their arms or walking on leashes, and she quickly knew that this was an adoption fair.  

"Look, it's an adoption fair! Can we see the puppies? Please?" Yoonchae asked, her hands clasped together as she begged you to agree to the idea of seeing the puppies.  

"What do you think?" Sophia turned, asking you.  

"Sure, why not?!" You said, as you closed the trunk carefully.  

You and Sophia followed a bouncing Yoonchae to the adoption fair, being greeted by the people who were organizing. You and Sophia paying close attention to what the woman was saying, while Yoonchae admired the puppies that tried to lick her hand.   

While you and Sophia were playing with the puppies, Yoonchae noticed a small puppy that was standing next to a medium-sized dog, which appeared to be elderly. Approaching slightly so as not to scare them, the younger girl brought her hand closer so that the puppies could smell them.   

Seeing the younger girl, you and Sophia approached too, the two puppies seemed to keep each other company, isolated from the dogs with more energy. The cub seemed to protect the eldest.  

"No one has been able to adopt them. Nobody wants older dogs and the puppy doesn't let them take him away from the elderly." The lady who worked there approached you and Sophia, explaining with a tender look on her face.   

"What are their names?" Sophia asked, her voice low, peaceful.  

"The puppy's name is Scooby, and his old friend over there is Max." The woman said, flashing a friendly smile.  

"What would I have to do to take them both?" You ask. Sophia and Yoonchae turning their heads quickly in your direction.   

"You'd have to sign some papers to go through the adoption process." The employee responded.   

"Wait, is this serious?" Yoonchae asked, joy flashing across her face.  

"Baby, are you sure? They would have to stay in your house." Sophia says, her face furrowed in caution and a little concern.   

"It's our house." You said, grabbing the Filipina's hand. "I'm sure, unless you didn't want to?" You asked.  

Sophia smiled, looking at you with a passionate gaze. The Filipina simply thought it was all perfect, if that was a dream, please don't wake her up. Turning to the employee, Sophia said; 

"Where do we sign?"   

This is going to be the best Christmas for these guys, and certainly yours! 

I HAD to make them adopt dogs, it was stronger than me. So here are

Scooby (3 months old) and Max (9 years old)

[bloodlineslut]

chapter t h r e e

Laying in the bed that was closest to the window of the plane, the hum of the airplane’s engines were the only thing keeping her rooted in reality.

India lifted up and shifted in her first class seat that nobody other than Jey had insisted she fly to Florida in. Coming from L.A., it was no quick flight, especially with no stops so everyone aboard was forced to endure the 4-hour flight.

If he got her a first class flight, she didn’t even wanna know what the hotel room looked like. It’d probably be bigger than her apartment.

Not that she didn’t make money from doing social media, it’s just that she definitely couldn’t take a break from it for too long.

Her legs were stretched outward in front of her and since this was a morning flight, the sun rays were shining through the curved window so she closed it a bit since it was hot.

She still couldn’t believe that the last 24 hours were real. Nothing even happened yet. India never dealt with a man who was so forward, so direct about what he wanted.

Before she turned her phone on Airplane Mode while the plane was taking off, Jey informed her that she would also have a driver waiting for her so that she had free range of wherever she wanted or needed to go.

He even offered to get her tickets for the WWE show, but in all honesty, she wasn’t ready to see him that soon yet. She needed to just get to the hotel room and get all her nerves out before he came over.

India kept repeating the potential routine of what she was going to do once at the hotel, in order to feel some sense of control.

First, she had to check in. Then, take a steaming hot everything shower with the playlist she made as she was sitting inside the airport. Then, she had to get dressed, do her hair, and her makeup.

Good thing she brought 3 different options for dresses and heels since she was always so indecisive when it came to outfits.

And especially since she would be going out with Main Event Jey Uso.

India had asked him where he was going to take her but he just kept saying that it was a surprise, so she gave up asking. She knew it would be somewhere really nice, though.

But the most important note of all: do not fall in love with this man.

He wasn’t even forwardly really trying to charm her, he just was being himself, and yet that seemed even more dangerous. It made her let her guard down—clearly—as she was on a plane right now to go see him.

He literally handled everything.

The flight attendant was walking up and down the aisle, offering refreshments and snacks, but India politely declined.

She chewed on her bottom lip, opening her phone, and going to the last text messages that Jey sent to her before she boarded the flight.

Jey: The room got a balcony. I thought you might wanna wake up to the ocean.

Jey: I’ll pick you up after I get ready ok mama?

The act was so simple, but the thought behind it really was giving intent.

India sighed and laid her head back against the pillow, looking at the partially obscured view of the plane aisle. She glanced down at her freshly done nails—french tips with the ultra pink base, with a small red heart charm on her ring fingers. She had also went ahead and got her toes redone (they could’ve went another week, but given the circumstances, you know).

On the little GPS map screen that was on the partition next to the bed, she checked the time duration left of the flight.

1 hour.

India decided to take one last little nap and hoped that as she felt the plane touch the ground, she would wake up.

…

Sure enough, no one had to come and try to wake her and she tidied up the little bed as best she could before gathering her carry-on and all other little items she had with her.

As soon as she walked out of the loading bridge and into the airport, she made a B-line for the airport baggage conveyor, keeping an eye out for her baby pink luggage set that her mom gifted her last Christmas.

In leu of her waiting, she spotted some WWE fans who were decked out in merch.

Yeet merch.

India caught herself about to smile, but tried to wipe it off her face. One guy had on the glasses and the T-shirt and the other man who was with him had on a shirt that had some guy with SZ on it.

After what felt like years, she spotted her luggage and walked over to grab it before it got too far away from her. Dragging the suitcase behind her as she walked through the airport and out of the doors, she remembered that Jey said the car that would be waiting for her was a black Escalade.

Lucky for her, the driver was also holding a sign with her first name on it.

He was a kind-looking black guy, and as he noticed her eyes lingering on him, he called out her name as a question. “India? For Mr. Joshua?”

“Joshua?” India asked, confused.

The driver leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice. “Mr. Jey. I call him Joshua. Come on darling, I’ll take your bags.”

“Ohh, and okay thank you so much.” He reminded India of her father, very gentle mannerisms and kind eyes.

She opened the backseat car door and climbed in, settling down and waiting for the driver to take her to the destination.

As he got into the driver’s seat, she realized she didn’t get his name. “Excuse me, what’s your name, by the way?”

“Booker. It’s nice to meet you, India.” He sat his elbow on the armrest and offered his hand for a handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you as well!” India gently shook his much larger hand before sitting back into her seat and securing herself with the seatbelt as he took off.

Throughout the car ride, she and Booker had small conversation, with him informing her that he had been knowing Jey and his brother, Jimmy, for a long time.

India also asked him how long usually are the shows because she was planning to manage her get-ready time accordingly.

“They’re usually about 2 hours long, but you know the wrestlers be takin’ showers after and mingling for a bit. I don’t think Joshua would wanna waste any extra time tonight, though.”

India’s eyes widened as she looked out the window.

‘Oh my gosh, he knows. Bro.’  India was internally dramatically choking herself.

‘Nah nah, he probably just thinks I’m a friend or something…I hope.’

It was about a 15 minute drive before Booker slowed down in front of a Hilton hotel, and sure enough, it did have an ocean view. He got all of her bags and luggage for her, carrying them into the lobby.

“Well, thank you so much Mr. Booker.” India was reaching into her wallet to give him a tip, but he stopped her.

“No no, keep that. I’m just happy I got you here safe and sound.” He softly tapped the top of her hand that was still mid-reach into her purse.

“Aww. Well, thank you again.”

“Any time, darling. You have a good night now.” He waved as he walked out through the hotel’s entrance, leaving India to check in to her room.

After an easy process of checking in and getting her key card, she headed up in the elevator to the room. She definitely wasn’t expecting to walk in to one of the deluxe suites. Her jaw dropped in disbelief as she walked further in, checking out all the aspects.

There was a king-sized bedroom and a little living room with a couch, table, mini refrigerator, and TV. “Okay big baller, shot caller.”

She pulled her phone out of her hoodie front pocket to check the time.

4:05 p.m.

‘Damn, that time flew by fast.’

She thought back to her plan she laid out in her head on the plane.

Checked in to her room? Done.

Now she had to shower. She didn’t have to shave because she went and got waxed last minute from her wax girl. She was so grateful that she could squeeze her in on such short notice.

Rolling the suitcase in the bathroom, she collected all of her shower products and placed them on the floor of it before figuring out how to use the gauge.

…

Beyonce was blaring from India’s phone speaker as she danced with the music while applying her makeup. She didn’t wanna do a full face, just a light beat since her lashes were done.

Grabbing the setting spray and spritzing it all over her face, she fanned it dry with her hands and then walked to the dress she decided on wearing when she was fresh out of the shower.

It was a black and white cow print midi dress that she planned on pairing with some black mules.

Also, what type of person would she be if she hadn’t had Smackdown pulled up on her phone, Jey’s match playing in the background.

She was so fascinated with all the moves and acting, truly. He was in a match with some other guy, who India found his name was Gunther, a big ole dude with an accent that reminded her of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

It was getting closer and closer to her seeing Jey in person for the first time. That time kepy flying by incredibly fast as it was already 9 p.m. She didn’t start getting ready straight after her shower, wanting to just chill for an hour or two.

But now, she was fully dressed except for her heels, hair was done, and makeup was done. After she finished brushing her teeth for the second time today, her phone began ringing, and it was none other than Jey.

She swiped to the right of the screen to answer it.

“Hey mama. You all ready?” His voice was smooth and low.

“Hi. Uh yeah, I just finished.” She replied, walking back to the mini refrigerator to grab a cold water bottle.

“Okay.” He paused. “I can’t wait to see you pretty.”

She smiled, loving how flirty he was with her.

“Imma be up there to get you in like…ten, fifteen,” he added, his voice even lower. “You’ll like this lil’ restaurant.”

“Mhm, well let me be the judge of that.” She teasingly responded to his ever-confident statement, making him chuckle.

“Aight, see you in a lil’ bit, India.”

They said their goodbyes before hanging up and India could hardly contain her excitement.

‘I mean, it’s just a date…And then after…’ She shook her head, just trying to focus on enjoying the date he had planned for them.

She really wasn’t the shy type when it came to sex. As a matter of fact, she was far from it, but she already knew she would be shy around him. He just oozed sex appeal.

She could just picture it—his Cuban link chains dangling from his neck, his arms flexing with that beautiful ink flowing up and down his arms, chest, and neck in that damn white wife beater, a gorgeous contrast.

Just his voice alone over the phone could make her melt. Imagine that paired with his eyes lingering on each and every curve of her naked body as she was sprawled out underneath him.

‘Shit.’

Yea, she was gonna be shy.

‘Oh God, what if he talks me through i—I’m fucked.’ She silently thanked God that she never stopped taking her birth control pills after she and her ex broke up about 5 months ago. And it also didn’t help that she had just got off of her period and now she was extra extra horny.

India hadn’t realized how quickly those 10-15 minutes had gone by until she was interrupted by a knock on the hotel room door, making her head snap to it.

Doing a little run over to it, she smoothed her hair down, quickly slipped her feet into the heels, and looked through the peephole to see that it was him.

She silently mouthed, “Oh my fuuuck!” and finally opened the door, putting a soft smile on her face to keep her composure.

But as soon as her eyes met his tall figure, she might as well would have been a puddle of water on the side of the street and her knees damn near buckled.

It was a 6’2” piece of meat. His broad shoulders behind a fitted all black suit that hugged his arms like it was a second skin. This was accentuated by the Cuban link chain that rested under his black collar, against his chest. She also noticed the gold bracelet he had on his wrist.

Black slacks that hugged his thick, muscular thighs and she pictured the tattoos that he had underneath the pants. He could take her right then and there, to be honest.

She had to grip the edge of the door that she was still holding onto to literally not fall.

“Damn…” His voice broke through the tension that was present in the air between them as he took off his black shades. His eyes bore right into hers, taking in every inch of her beauty that he thought was perfect. “You tryna get me in trouble, huh?”

India laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear as she looked down at her feet for a second. “Oh this old thing?” She waved him off.

“Mhm.” He hummed, still taking in her curvy figure in that dress with his head tilted and a smirk plastered on his face.

“Aye, you just gon’ stand there and look this damn good and not gimme a hug?”

It was the way he said it—not in a “where my hug at?” way. In the most laid back and playful way with that bass in his voice. India giggled softly before stepping forward, placing her arms around the back of his neck as his arms wrapped around her middle, and she felt his warm hands gently rest on her back.

Then she got a whiff of his cologne. ‘This nigga is trying to kill me.’

The hug lingered a bit too long for two people who just met in person, but neither one minded it.

As they both pulled away from each other, India felt such an intense longing for him to kiss her, but told fat ma to calm down.

“Aight, c’mon mama. We gon’ eat good, trust me.” He grabbed her hand before she leaned back just enough to grab her black purse that had everything she needed inside of it.

…

India and Jey were now seated directly across one another in the dimly lit restaurant named Pearl and Horn. The restaurant housed a good amount of people, yet it wasn’t too crowded, and with the other customers dressed up as well.

She was still deciding on what she thought sounded good to eat and she glanced up at Jey, but he was already looking at her, one arm stretched over the back of the booth.

“Stop staring at me.” She was half kidding, half serious. He made her so nervous and giddy.

He grinned at her slight shyness. “I can’t help it, you just look too good.”

She softly laughed and rolled her eyes, hiding behind the menu and hardly even registering the different meals that they offered.

Suddenly, she saw his fingers slowly take the menu out of her hands and place it on top of his, resting on their table. “I know what you’ll like. They got too much damn food to pick from for a first timer.”

“Oop, well okay then…By the way, I watched your match earlier.”

Jey instantly smiled. “Oh yeah? What you think?” He motioned for her to answer him.

“I think that I could never do that and that you are very talented.” She breathed out a laugh. She was being completely serious; that stuff looked like it took a whole lot of stamina. More than just a regular athlete.

This made Jey laugh again. “Yeah it’s definitely a lot of work. I mean me and brother Jimmy been doin’ it for 15 years.”

India’s neck extended forward in slight shock. “15 years? Wow, so ya’ll are like the veterans.”

Jey nodded. “Yea, but like we still learn even from the newer people. It’s fun forreal if you’re dedicated.”

Hearing him talk about his passion for his career really made India see that he was more than just a dripped-out wrestler. She noticed that when he’s in the ring or doing an interview, or even talking to fans, he’s not a complete 180 of who he is outside of the ring.

He was just always being himself, she thought.

He seemed a little too good to be true, but she pushed that thought away.

It turns out, he did order a meal for her that she would like. She was now eating the bucatini pasta and Jey ordered for himself the ribeye steak meal.

Throughout the dinner, they fed their faces and also got to know each other a bit more—where they were born and raised, any siblings, how’s mom and dad, things like that.

The words just seemed to flow effortlessly, or maybe it was because India had 2 glasses of wine and was just a tiny bit tipsy.

She almost had asked the waiter for another one, but Jey stopped her. “Nah nah nah. Can we just get some water, uce? Thanks.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” India pouted, leaning forward to boop his nose with her finger, making him put his head down to laugh.

“Oh you- you’re like one of them happy drunks huh?” He smiled while he asked her, seeing her eyes were just the slightest bit low.

“Mhmm.” India stroked her hair with her fingers. “And I’m not drunk, just tipsy, Jey.” She scolded him before giggling.

“Yea, aight.” He held his hands up in mock surrender.

After making her drink all that water before he paid for their meal, they were now in the same black Escalade that had picked her up from the airport, but this time Jey was driving it.

Dinner was amazing, and paired with the good conversations they had, it was the best date she had been on. Even if they weren’t together.

He parked out in front of her hotel building and they both just sat in silence for a minute. His one hand was still on the wheel as he turned to look at her.

She wanted him to come back up to the room with her, but didn’t exactly know how to say it. “You good, mama?”

She nodded her head and then paused. “Yea, I’m good. I just…um.” Jey tilted his head, waiting for her to finish her thoughts.

It clicked what she was probably thinking and he gave her a low smile. “Look, I ain’t tryna rush you or nun’. But if you want me to come up with you…I will.”

India just stared at him for a minute. He was giving her the option, which she really liked. And thought it was very attractive.

“Damn, you really gon’ make me say it out loud Jey?”

“I like hearing you tell me what to do.” He countered back sexily.

She put her face in her hands for a second before looking back into his dreamy eyes and saying the word. “Yes, I want you to come up with me.”

She ain’t have to tell him twice. He cut off the engine, pushed open his door to step out, walked around to her side and opened her door like a gentleman.

“Aight mama. Let’s go.”

A/N: i promise there'll be smut in the next chapter. india is finna be dickmatized.

taglist!: @christinabae @trippinsorrows @nayys-world @4milly @punksyeet @uceyliyahh @levissslutt @m00nlitnight @luuvprincess @sheaabuttaababyy @prettypink-princesss @fearlesschimera @romanreignsbae @luvrsluxe @amandairene88 @pittieprincess22 @moxley99 @princess-saki1 @sharmelasworld @marababyyyy @shanthefemalerapper @theusotwinzcom

[some-bunniii]

My Charming Red Savior [5]

・❥ You make a deal with Alastor, uh oh?

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

x: i actually enjoy alastor’s room a lot, esp that little pocket dimension he’s got going on. thought we’d take a chapter and play around with it!

~ 6.1k words

When you stepped into Alastor’s room, the last thing you expected to see was the opposite wall divulging into some swampy void of tall, dark trees as fog rolled across the grass. You swore you could even hear the faint sounds of bullfrogs calling across the flooded expanse.

A bayou in the middle of the hotel? Alastor must have done this, no doubt. Stopping just past the threshold to the large room, you pointed a questioning finger towards the swamp. 

“What is that…?” 

“Just a place to test my powers,” Alastor brushed past you, and the soft, orange lights nearby flickered to life as he entered beside you, “Somewhere the consequences of my actions won’t affect the outside world.”

“Consequences?”

“Correct,” Alastor seemed to be enjoying educating you on magic and what he was capable of, as he continued to undo his coat near the doorway as you explored, “The limits of my powers continue to expand, and anyone with a good head on their shoulders would do well to understand the potential risks involved when playing around with demonic forces. This is a sanctuary I can do that without causing chaos inside the hotel… and a quaint little view as well.”

“Is it real?” Your gaze skimmed across old black-and-white photos of demons you didn’t recognize.

“An illusion carefully crafted with years of work. I’ve fine-tuned it to display scenes closest to my memories from before.”

“It must remind you of home,” you said softly, eyes tracing an alligator skeleton nailed to the wall, a string of small, flickering lights snaking around its ribs and up its tail. 

Even if Alastor never mentioned it without a little prodding, it seemed as if his old home on Earth was something he continued to keep close to him. He still had a passion for music, for southern food, and his drive to keep everything the way it was only further displayed his fondness towards his life on earth. What wasn’t there to miss when you’d end up in a place like this for eternity?

“Indeed,” Alastor nodded slowly, and you watched his signature red suit slip slowly down his back. Underneath, a crimson dress shirt shimmered softly in the ambient light. Thin, leather straps hugged tightly across his chest and back, before wrapping around his shoulders for one and down his sides to latch tightly on his dress pants. 

The chest suspenders accentuated his slenderness, shaping the pointish frame of his suit to lovely lines like the noticeable curve of his hips. His thin, feminine waist was as prominent as ever with the straps keeping his shirt nestled tightly against his skin, revealing a more sophisticated figure than what his tuxedo suit had to offer.

Wowie.

You prayed Alastor would turn around to face you, only so you could see how yummy he looked from the front while he placed his signature red coat onto the hanger next to the door. You struggled to keep your eyes up as they traveled farther and farther down his firm back until—

Wait, a second. Was that small, dark red tuft of fur that was nestled against the small of his back, actually what you think it is? 

It jutted out from the top of Alastor’s pants, relaxed against the tight fabric. As the demon walked towards the bookshelf, arm raising towards a vintage radio, it swished cutely behind him. You zoned in on the ball of fluff, mouth slightly agape.

TAIL!

Heat instantly crept onto your cheeks, your fingers twitching, itching to reach forward and wrap your fingers around the plush fur. Alastor’s tail looked as soft as his ears, and that made your face only boil hotter as you imagined how his hair must feel similar. The thought of burying your face in him like a pillow made you smile dopely, before the realization of what you were thinking made you clamp your lips into a thin line.

Smacking a hand over your face, you tried to hide your embarrassment as Alastor moved a few feet further away, completely oblivious to your flustered figure ogling him.

What was wrong with you?! Here you were supposed to be helping him with his wounds but instead you were too busy drooling at how pretty he was!

Alastor’s tail was much more reactive than his ears, and as his fingers fussed with the radio dial, the increasingly audible jazz tune that began to waft through its speakers had that tuft of fur beginning to rise. White peaked from his underfur, as it slowly lifted in a silent expression of pleasure from the demon, as the music began to pour from the radio crystal clear.

You could understand why he was so intent on keeping it hidden underneath his suit. It didn’t seem like Alastor had complete control of his tail, and there was no doubt he saw it as a ‘weakness’ that other powerful demons could use against him somehow.

You thought it was adorable, and somehow, you’d convince Alastor of that too. 

A gentle jazz beat with words you didn’t recognize wafted through the air, as Alastor turned to face you with a satisfied grin. Your eyes instantly shot up to meet his own, but not in time for the demon to notice your strange, heated demeanor and the way you cracked a quick, innocent grin. 

He definitely caught you staring at his ass, and now you had other things to stare at with how snug that leather strap was across his upper body, and the way it seemed to only make his chest puff out even more. You definitely weren’t having a hard time controlling your gaze as Alastor sidled to the desk, a playful glint from his monocle as his eyelids lowered slightly. 

“Find something of interest?” He hummed, cracking a charming smile as he slid his claws gently across the oak desk’s surface, tracing lines downward until he landed at the top drawer. Pulling it open as you averted your gaze, eyes searching for anything of interest.

“Why, yes,” you nodded, putting a hand to your chin in dramatic thought as your attention landed on the bookshelf Alastor had just moved away from, the rows of books on full display, the titles unreadable in the dim light.

“You love to read, unsurprisingly.” You smiled as Alastor pulled a small medical kit from the drawer, turning to face you slowly, “Do you have a preferred genre?” 

“Murder mysteries are a favorite of mine,” He nodded, striding over to the twin vintage cushioned chairs that sat next to the fireplace, “The fear and the adrenaline that spikes through the protagonist as they try to find the killer before the killer finds them, a thrilling hunt from both sides.”

Alastor giggled at that, placing a hand to his mouth as if recalling a fond memory as you slowly joined him next to the fireplace. It flickered with bright green light, licking at the metal railings keeping its size in check as Alastor stood beside the chair, gesturing you to sit.

“You’re the one injured,” you frowned, plopping down into the chair as you took the medical kit from his free hand, “It should be me doing these things for you.” 

“Manners don’t go out the door just because there is blood present, I am still a gentleman,” Alastor replied with a waggle of his finger, before he took a seat near you, his claws tapping against the chair’s arm rhythmically with the jazz music. 

The warmth from the fire had your eyes drooping slightly, exhaustion tickling the back of your scalp. Even though it was technically still early afternoon, almost getting blown up multiple times, meeting the king of Hell who also saved your life, and being in the center of the two power demon’s bickering had drained you. 

Alastor’s room was very serene, the soft jazz lulling you into a tranquility that had you sinking further into the chair. The deep brown, neutral tones of the antique furniture that framed the room, along with the orange lights that flickered softly along the walls were easy on your eyes, and you smiled softly as you unclipped the medical case’s lid and opened it slowly.

With invisible hands, Alastor’s chair moved forward without effort, scraping softly against the dark red carpet beneath before stilling right as his legs were about to brush against your own. Skimming through the contents of bandaids, your attention landed on packaged tiny alcohol wipes and thin white gauze. Placing the two items on your lap, you leaned over and placed the medical kit on a side table nearby. 

Lifting a hand towards Alastor, you beckoned him forward and he slid his fingers into your palm. He leaned forward as you pulled his hand into your lap, one elbow against the arm of the chair, a hand cupping his chin as he watched you tenderly dab his cuts with the alcohol wipe. The smeared blood against his skin was cleaned off as you worked, and Alastor only silently judged you on the strange, affectionate behavior.

Why would you care so much about a few scratches on his hand, when it meant nothing in the long run. It's not like the rose was made out of angelic steel, yet you fretted simply because he could still feel the sting of the thorns on his tender skin.

For any other demon, Alastor would have slapped them across the face with a tentacle for suggesting to look after him in this way. Why would he reveal any kind of weakness to someone who could use it against him, or view him as what, fragile, delicate? That was not something The Radio Demon could have for his image.

Except, your intention was nothing but pure since the first time Alastor had met you. Even Charlie, the sweet and naive woman he’d come to grow fond of, still had her reasons for treating Alastor with great kindness. He was beneficial to her hotel’s success, and as long as he felt welcomed, he’d help her turn her dreams into reality. Since he began climbing the political ladder of Pentagram City, anytime someone wanted his presence was to use him. 

You, on the other hand, had no ulterior motive. Even when you learned from your friend the terrible things they claim Alastor committed, your curiosity and kindness towards him never faltered. 

You had never asked for his help, even going so far as to deny his assistance when it came to putting that snobby boss of yours back in line. Every time the two of you had crossed paths, it had been him initiating the meeting, him making the first moves for you to notice his presence, him seeking you out. 

And now, even seeing Alastor in any kind of vulnerable state, your soft and gentle demeanor didn’t waver, didn’t dull knowing he wasn’t a second-to-none overlord that could take on any threat as he’s so valiantly demonstrated before.

You didn’t value him any less for his injuries, and in truth, your image of him only improved knowing he was just a man in demon form. Someone with insecurities, human emotions like pain and jealousy, and a good eye for flora.

Except, Alastor wished you’d be paying less attention to his grievous wounds, and instead of focusing on the question you were rudely interrupted trying to answer this morning. 

“Come to a decision on your stay at the hotel?” 

Your hands halted in mid-air, the gauze between your fingers while you had been finishing up wrapping his fingers with the white tape. You had been thinking this whole time about different haircuts to subtly introduce Alastor to improve the only slightly lacking feature on his figure.

“Well–I, um, about that…” you started, grimacing at the way the words fell out of your mouth were scrambled under his intense gaze, “I have been thinking, but I mean, there’s a lot to think about. First off, while I believe Charlie really has something going on here with the hotel… I don’t think I fit the criteria.”

“Of course you do!” Alastor chuckled, as if you had just said the silliest thing to have graced his ears, “If a harlot and that slithering simpleton have a chance at leading a virtuous existence, then I'd say the cards are in your hands for that too!” 

You were about to open your mouth, before he leaned back into his chair, slipping his bandaged hand out of your grip and back to his side to inspect it carefully. 

“And, I’m quite confident you could find a more fulfilling job here at the hotel, instead of under that spineless wretch of a man,” Alastor continued, reclining back into the chair as he tilted his head in thought.

“Probably…”

“Not to mention, complimentary room and board? My, you’ve got a very tantalizing offer right in front of you, any sorry bloke off the street would be jumping at the opportunity you’ve been given.”

Was that true? Alastor was really selling this to you, and you reached up a hand to soothingly scratch your neck as you thought. Would it be so bad to stay here? 

Your thoughts from earlier this morning replayed in your head. There wasn’t anything specifically keeping you from denying the offer. You worked a dead-end job around people you were uncomfortable with, the place you were renting was small and falling apart, and you had nobody holding you back. Your friends were there, but weren’t close in your circle. Which kind of meant you didn’t have a circle… except these new demons at the hotel. You were warming up to them, and they weren’t too bad.

Did you really have a shot at redemption? Were you worthy of eternal happiness?

What if having such made you a laughingstock, what if joining these people made you a target of Heaven? That wouldn’t be good, and you were a nobody with no power that 

“Al…” You sighed with a groan, placing your head into your hands. Why did you have to be so indecisive?!

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Alastor's smile cracked wider, the curves of his lips becoming sharper as an unreadable expression crossed his eyes.

“A deal?”

“Just a simple thing,” He smiled innocently, leaning  “No contract or handshake necessary, I believe you are trustworthy to hold up your end with just words.”

God, he was super close to you now, practically nose to nose as he looked at you expectantly. A playful glint shimmered in his red monocle, and your breath hitched at his proximity. 

“What kind of deal?” You finally whispered, heat creeping onto your cheeks.

“You want to learn my interests, want a peek into my life above, hm?” He inched closer to you, smile widening as you leaned backward, “If I take you directly to the source, show you life as I lived it, then you must move to the hotel and stay for one month.”

‘Source’? What did he mean by that? And, if you agreed, you had to stay for a month? But, he was going to open himself up and share his past life with you, which meant a lot to you. 

His eyelids lowered again, something you had noticed earlier when he caught your ogling. Were they lowered in amusement? Some amateurs attempt at bedroom eyes? You could hardly think straight with how close he was to you, a hundred routes of where things could go next skimming through your mind.

Maybe that was just a delusion of yours, wanting Alastor to show more interest than just pretty flowers and a ring that he seemed to sport on you just for show. You barely knew the man, but his kindness and, oh, and that voice… you were just so impatient.

Alastor wasn’t a big physical romantic, you could tell. Which meant you needed to take things slow, respect his space and his pace. He flustered so easily when you complimented him, obviously new to the whole romantic thing in general, and that only made you want to do it again.

Which meant, it would be you that would have to make some moves this time. Even if they were small, it seemed any act of affection would send the deer demon into a tizzy. A kiss on the cheek? Too brazen. A flower crown for his antlers? A little too cottage-girly for him, perhaps.

“I enjoy your excitement at my proposition,” Alastor broke you from your thoughts, as he smiled widely at your dopey expression again, “But I’ll need you to agree with words, darling.”

You really needed to learn to keep your facial expressions in check, it was embarrassing how easily Alastor had been able to catch you mid-daydream so easily. 

“...Okay.” You finally whisper, and energy crackles inside the room right as the words leave your lips.

“Wonderful!” Alastor beamed, rising from the chair in one smooth motion, his good hand wrapping around your forearm suddenly before pulling you up beside him.

Blinking, you felt him slip an arm around yours before tugging you across the room. The jazz from the radio seemed to increase in volume the closer the two of you stepped closer to the pocket dimension a few feet away.

You halted right at the edge, the croaking from the frogs, and distant calls of the owl grew louder as you lifted your head towards the looming trees. The sky was starless, a large, dark blue shadow masking the scene at night as the fireflies danced. What was Alastor planning?

“Just a moment, I need to grab my cane,” he left your side, walking back to the fireplace as your gaze stayed frozen on the swampy atmosphere ahead. 

You leaned forward, trying to get a better look around the weird little pocket-dimension. Even the air inside changed, you could practically taste the humidity in the air as it began to stick to your forehead.

Did the grass still feel like grass, even in a powerful illusion like this? You had no idea Alastor was capable of this kind of magic, especially such vivid scenery. Slowly, you lifted a foot over where brown wood melted into greenery, still hesitant to touch the strange grass.

You held a breath as you crossed the threshold, the sounds of grass crunching beneath as you walked into the wetland. You could feel the water in the soil squelching as you walked slowly, towards nowhere in particular as you twisted your head at the unfamiliar area. 

Thick, swampy vines curled around large trunks and snaked into deep, mucky waters. The way was illuminated by the flickering bodies of fireflies as they danced almost rhythmically to the soft jazz in the background. Sometimes, the surface of the water nearby would ripple, and you swore the shadow of a long body of something stalking underneath the surface passed right next to you.

When you turned to face the line of trees in the distance, two pairs of glowing, yellow eyes met yours. A silhouette of a four-legged creature, tall with branching antlers that tickled at the leaves above its head. The two of you locked eyes for a few moments, and you opened your mouth slightly in awe as it stood elegantly before you.

“My, you are quite a wanderer!” A chipper voice exclaimed behind you, and you pivoted with a yelp to face the static-laced voice smiling softly toward you.

“This place is really amazing,” you laughed, twisting your head to find the buck had disappeared, “It actually feels like we’re back on Earth, almost.”

“It gets better,” Alastor hummed beside you, extending a hand that you accepted with gentle fingers as he grasped you softly.

“Well, how do I look?” He leaned closer to you, puffing his chest slightly as you skimmed across his pretty figure.

Your hands tentatively lifted to adjust the slightly angled black bowtie near his collar, and Alastor only watched you carefully as you fixed it back into place. 

“Perfect,” you sang with a smile, and he mimicked your expression with glee.

“Always a charm, my doe.” Alastor winked, before he slid his arm through yours once more and stood shoulder-to-shoulder beside you. 

His smile was playful, as he glanced at you standing tense beside him. You had a sneaking suspicion he was going to teleport you again, or do something magically stomach-twisting that had you wishing for a paper bag on the side.

“Now, close your eyes…” 

You followed his instruction, squeezing them shut with a deep breath.

You barely had time to exhale before the wind around you turned to a deathly chill, and the humidity was zapped from the air as that familiar feeling of weightlessness had you tightening your hold on Alastor.

You felt him shifting beside you, although you couldn’t imagine into what as your eyes stayed shut tight, cold gripping at your shoulders. It felt like the ground was alive, transforming right beneath you with barely a tremble as you held your breath tightly. 

Then, your ears popped and you felt the grass beneath your feet shift to firm, rocky pavement. There was music, jazz again, but this time the words were audible as women's voices sang with the bumping rhythm. 

‘I’m just a little Jackie Horner,’

‘Since I met my sugar cane,’ 

“Are you going to keep your eyes shut the entire time?” Alastor prodded beside you, his tone laced with amusement as you relaxed slightly at the sound of his voice. 

Taking a deep breath, you crack an eyelid, the darkened atmosphere easy on your vision as you slowly open your eyes to reveal a scene straight out of a history book. 

You were standing in the middle of a cracked, paved road, illuminated by a stretch of tall lamps that cast warm orange tones across the street. Buildings with tall shutters for windows beckoned an invisible finger for you to follow, as spicy, southern food hit your nostrils and the sounds of riled entertainment reached your ears.

‘I left a light lamp on that old corner,’

‘For the moon in lover’s lane,’ 

They all held porches that spanned the entire front of the house-sized buildings. Darkened, silhouetted figures laughed above your head, as you stood there in awe. 

There were a few cars parked on the sides of the street, with thin, flimsy wheels reminding you of distant times when vehicles were just starting to reach the public eye. 

It really felt like you had stepped into the past, everything reminisced to a world before TVs, social media, and WiFi. When newspapers and radios ruled supreme, people came together and danced on the streets instead of dancing behind the camera on silly apps. 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

“Welcome to New Orleans in Roarin’ Twenties!” Alastor beamed beside you, gesturing to the long row of storefronts, the air humming with lively energy and pulsing with vibrant rhythms of tunes long forgotten. 

You jumped at the sound of a baritone horn blaring from beside you. A steamboat filled with flickering lights and singing, boisterous voices chugged past you, its large wheel churning as water cascaded from the paddles. 

A figure turned to you, masked in shadows before they raised an arm and waved across the water towards you. Your lips curved wider with a smile, before lifting a cautious hand and returning the gesture.

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’ 

‘All the boys are jealous of me,’ 

You felt someone bump into your shoulder, another one of those mysterious figures that filled the street. 

“‘Scuse me, miss,” the stranger tipped his hat apologetically to you, bowing slightly as he brushed by.

‘So I never take her where the gang goes,’ 

‘When I take my sugar to tea,’

You twisted your head to finally get a good look at the strangers around you, before your eyes widened at the sight of a doll-like man, his mouth sewn into a wide smile. Black buttons glinted at you from where his eyes should have been, as the man placed his hat back on and turned away. 

You didn’t have time to process the sight before Alastor was pulling you down the street, a live band played outside one bar, the paint mashing keys to a much faster rhythm as two women swung each other across the sidewalk with laughter and the clicking of heels. 

Alastor pulled you along until the two of you stopped at a bakery storefront. Shadowed puppets flowed around you, as your eyes landed on a steaming plate of deep-fried goodness sitting patiently on a table right outside the doorway. 

“Beignets,” He hummed, handing you a pastry, “A cultural classic in these parts.”

‘I’m a rowdy dowdy, that’s me,’

It reminded you of a tiny pillow, sugar coating its surface as you squished the crunchy delicacy before lifting it to your lips.

Taking a bite, the warmth of the bread bloomed across your body as the food traveled down your throat. Your tongue reached out to swipe at the leftover sugar hanging on your lips, as you smiled with pleasure. 

‘She’s a high hat baby, that’s she,’

Alastor only watched you with a soft expression, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you fill your mouth.

“You seem to be enjoying that,” he remarked, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

You nodded enthusiastically, your mouth still partially occupied by the delicious treat. “It’s amazing! I’ve never tasted anything like it before,” you exclaimed, your words muffled by the pastry.

“Well, there’s a lot of things you have yet to experience, my doe!” He sang, before tugging you along with a static-laced chuckle.

As the two of you strolled down the bustling street, your eyes caught a small crowd surrounding a man in a tall, black hat as he smiled charmingly at the audience.

The magician, dressed in a dapper suit adorned with intricate patterns, stood before a small crowd, his hands moving with precision and finesse as he dazzled onlookers with his feats of magic.

Curiosity piqued, you and Alastor paused to watch the spectacle unfold. The magician’s fingers danced across a deck of cards with effortless grace, manipulating them in ways that seemed impossible. Cards vanished into thin air only to reappear in unexpected places, leaving the crowd gasping in amazement.

Alastor only glanced at you unamusingly, and you laughed softly at his facial expression. Magic card tricks were nothing in comparison to what he was capable of, and you were sure he could wow this illusionary crowd in a heartbeat.

The two of you turned, halfway down the street now, as Alastor pointed at a few different sights. He even introduced you to instruments you’d never heard of before as the two of you continued on. 

“Have you ever performed?” You turned to him, another southern treat in your hand as you kept pace underneath the gas-lit lamps above. 

“On the streets? No, not like this,” Alastor shook his head, his nails clicking against his cane rhythmically with the music wafting from a bar nearby as the two of you stood near the edge of the river. 

You had gotten your hands on a small cup of Duchess Potatoes, a light, creamier version of the classic spud. Placing a small spoonful in your mouth, you swirled the flavors across your taste buds as you watched Alastor stare out at the open expanse of water.

“Once in a while, I’d stop at an old friend of mine’s jazz club, and on the nights I had a few extra drinks in my system, I'd lend my voice to the flappers as they danced.” 

“That sounds like fun!”

“It was,” He nodded, recounting the memories with amusement, “Mimzy would always tease me that I'd make better use as a flapper than a radio host. Sometimes, I think about life if I would have 

You laughed softly, imagining such a scene of Alastor dancing in a high skirt and fishnets. 

It wasn’t until the doors to a bar at the end of the street burst open, and large instruments were dragged through the threshold and out into the streets. Men gathered, readying their musical weapons for another nightly show as onlookers turned their attention to them. 

“Do you hear that?” He asked with a large, devilish smile as he turned to face the small crowd gathering. Couples glided in, teasing each other as they paired around the pianist and his band of stringed instruments. You watched his ears twitch slightly, twisting towards the rising noises.

“It looks like they are all going to dance!” You replied next to him, and Alastor turned to see interest gleaming in your gaze. He watched you for a few moments, before his crimson eyes landed on a trolly that was moving its way down the large street and towards the band.

You felt fingers lace around your wrist, and the gentle tugging from beside you as you met Alastor’s mischievous gaze.

“Let’s make sure we don’t miss it, then!” He winked, before he pulled you towards the lumbering vehicle. 

With wide eyes, you watched Alastor take a running start and gracefully leap onto the back of the trolley, hanging tightly to the railing as he beckoned for you to join.

You watched for a moment, before taking a deep breath and running to catch up with the trolly. Laughing, you reached out a hand to grasp Alastor’s as you closed in on the back of the vehicle.

You felt a sizzle of magic drag you an inch forward, and your fingers laced with Alastor’s as he pulled you beside him. He snaked one hand securely around your waist as you leaned out from the side of the vehicle, the wind whipping against your face as you watched the street lights flicker past. 

“I used to time myself on how fast I could make it on,” Alastor’s voice broke you from your awe, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, “I’m not sure if I've improved since my younger days.” 

You only smiled softly, the proximity of his touch hot on your mind, but you didn’t speak a word as the trolley continued on its path, the bar’s lights flashing with life as you beelined towards it. 

The trolley was fast, as it sped by the large steamboat, which honked as if in greeting to the passing vehicle. The trolley replied with a jingle of its own, before the boat disappeared farther down the river.

The trolley began to slow a few feet from the band, which you were thankful for, unsure if you had the physical form to tuck and roll successfully had you needed to make a quick exit.

Alastor landed on the pavement with a thump, twisting his grip so he could help you down with both hands firmly placed at your sides. 

“Let’s hurry before we miss it!” He sang, before pulling you along towards the crowd. The pianist thrummed the keys, inciting the dancers to twirl faster and they were lost in a hypnotic bustle of bodies fluidly maneuvering against each other. The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed along with the drumming beat, twisting in a tune of its own creation as you and Alastor moved closer.

But, why did it look like he was going to pull you in the center? Weren’t the two of you just going to stand back and watch? 

You didn’t have time to answer your own questions before you were in the center of the dancing couples. You froze with the spotlight on you, the jazz ringing in your ears as your shoulders softly pumped to the music.

Alastor took your hands carefully, his legs beginning to move in practiced motion as you stood there awkwardly.

“I can’t dance!” You squeaked. 

“It’s the Charleston, darling!” His voice cut through the romping rhythm, sending you a charming grin as he began to move his feet, “It’s not too hard, just follow my lead!” 

Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your nerves as you focused on Alastor’s movements. His feet moved with precision and fluidity, his body swaying effortlessly to the beat of the music. You tried to mimic his steps, clumsily at first, but with each passing moment, you found yourself growing more confident as you fell into sync with his rhythm.

As the music swirled around you, you lost yourself in the dance, allowing Alastor to guide you with gentle precision. His hands were warm and reassuring against yours, his touch sending shivers down your spine as you moved together in perfect harmony.

The sounds of shoes hitting pavement echoed in time with the drumming beat, creating a hypnotic melody that seemed to envelop you in its embrace. The world around you faded away as you focused solely on the dance.

With each step, each turn, you felt yourself letting go of your inhibitions, allowing the music to flow through you like a river. You spun and twirled with glee, lost in the intoxicating energy of the moment, a smile spreading across your face as laughter bubbled up from deep within your chest.

As the song reached its climax, you and Alastor moved as one, your bodies intertwined in a symphony of movement and sound. In that fleeting moment, there was no past or future, no worries or doubts – there was only the here and now, the exhilarating rush of the dance, and the feeling of Alastor’s touch against your skin. 

As the music faded into the night, you found yourself breathless and exhilarated, your cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. You turned to Alastor with a grin, your eyes shining with newfound confidence.

“I can’t believe I just did that!” You exclaimed, the thrill of the dance still coursing through your veins. Alastor chuckled softly, his gaze warm and affectionate as he tilted his head towards you. 

“You were marvelous, my dear,” he replied, his voice filled with pride. “But then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from someone as extraordinary as you.”

You returned the smile, a breathless laugh escaping your lips as you swayed next to him. The music was beginning to die, the scene slowly falling away as the grass began to replace the tiled, stone pavement under your feet. 

Never did you imagine you’d find yourself dancing near glistening waters, eating the delicacies that the human world once had to offer. 

Never did you imagine, Alastor would be such a good dancer! And, dancing with you, no less! 

“I think my hunger for information has been quenched, for now,” you smiled playfully, eyes locked onto Alastor as the world around you shifted. 

“Good,” Alastor smiled satisfactorily, before a mischievous glint reflected through his monocle, “Now… I believe it's time to hold up your end of the deal.” 

Right. The part where you had to move into the hotel. One month. Not a year, not forever, just one month. Couldn’t you decide by then? 

Yes, you could. You could come to a decision now, honestly, but something else was itching at the back of your mind. An act of affection that would no doubt get a reaction from the demon in front of you. 

“I think you’re onto something…” You nodded slowly, pulling Alastor's hand toward you with a sly smile.

Alastor’s eyebrows furrowed at your behavior, as his fingers lifted closer and closer towards your lips. 

With gentle reverence, you pressed a soft kiss to each of his fingertips, your lips lingering against his skin for a moment longer than necessary. Alastor’s breath caught in his throat, a startled look crossing his features as he watched you with wide eyes.

Finally, the roles had reversed. 

For a brief moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held his hand in yours, your lips leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The touch of your lips against his skin sent a fire igniting inside Alastor, one he was struggling to contain. 

A flush of color spread across his cheeks, a rare display of vulnerability that took you by surprise. His usual composed demeanor faltered for just a moment, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the surface.

“Y-you…” Alastor stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched for the right words. But before he could find them, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter echoing in the distance, the moment broken by the world slowly shifting around you.

Clearing his throat and regaining his composure, Alastor withdrew his hand from yours with careful movements. 

“Well, I suppose we should be getting your things,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. But the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed the lingering effects of your gesture.

Behind him, the fireplace illuminated the non-magical side of Alastor’s room, the vintage clock displaying arms that had barely moved an inch since you left on your little adventure. 

“Seems so,” you replied with a honeyed tone, batting your eyelashes at him as he adjusted his bowtie with clumsy fingers.

If you had looked down while flustering the poor man, you’d have noticed his tail high, white fur on full display behind him. Instead, you brushed past him and back into the confines of normalcy.

awwww man, we made it, alastor finally has his girl staying at the hotel! and a lil kissy kiss :3

i hope you guys could understand what was going on lmao i spent like an hour or two looking up pictures of new orleans, southern food, and steamboats 😂

thank you with your patience on this part, have a great day! 🤍

tags 1/2 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @pweewee @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie @luujjvi @amoraneuro @kimmikreates

[bumblebriez]

Love Stricken (PT.2)

(Gojo Satoru x Chubby!Fem!Reader)

(PT.1) (P.T.3) (P.T.4) (P.T.5)

⚠️⚠️⚠️: Swearing, Road head, Gojo swooooning, wrote this instead of sleeping.

Never in a million years would you think, you'd catch the eyes of a certain jujutsu sorcerer but you did and with that came alot of consequences. That you would eventually find out the hard way.

Your parents vanished a good couple of years ago with no knowledge of why and where, leaving you; the eldest, to care and provide for your younger siblings. Being responsible and forgetting about the life you used to live, you felt lost. Struggling a lot with your self worth.

Your best friend took it upon herself to finally get you to live your life a little more by taking you out on the town for a night.

But you found that night was the start of your downfall.

If the ending feels a bit rushed, it's because it is. I tried with this one but ya girl decided to not sleep and write instead. Mind the mistakes. <3

********

GIF by saewrq

********

You stirred awake to a throbbing, deep in your core and an arm curled around your very naked stomach. You tensed a little, having forgotten how you got in this situation.

Last night flashed in your mind, reminding you of the activities you participated in. A deep blush formed on your face, remembering everything far too well.

The arm belonged to Satoru Gojo, the man who had completely fucked the life out of you. The ache he gave you, the unspoken promise, you'd have trouble walking the next day.

You'd half expected for him to throw you out on your ass after he was done with you but that wasn't the case at all. He was very good at aftercare, specifically the cuddling after a long night of sex.

He cleaned you up good, making sure you had gone to the bathroom and cleaned up all of his cum that was quite literally leaking out of you.

It felt very intimate. Not what you expected for a one night stand.

But honestly, you did not mind in the slightest. It was lovely and genuinely made you feel good. He treated you like a goddess. He treated you like he was a man, you would only read about.

But sadly this was where the fantasy was about to end, your next course of action..

How were you going to get out of Satoru's grip without waking him up?

You bit your lip as you moved your hand gently to grab his, grabbing a hold and moving it slowly to rest on your thigh.

Baby steps. One thing at a time. You thought.

You cringed a little as he stirred behind you, scared you might have ruined everything.

But atlas, he didn't wake.

He did happen to flip on his back though.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief as you slowly moved the covers off you, scooting carefully to the edge, pausing when you felt the man stir once again.

When you got the green light, you move to sit up; your feet dangling over the edge of his super king sized bed.

Your eyes scoured the room, looking for your belongings. You couldn't spot them anywhere. They must be lying by the front door since you mostly likely threw them down; when you and Satoru were quite literally attacking each other.

Just as you were getting the courage to stand on your wobbly feet, you fail to realise; that you did in fact wake the sleeping prince.

Satoru sat up slowly, a drowsy smirk on his lips as he rested against the headboard, placing his hands behind his head; admiring the view of your naked back.

"You're not thinking of skipping out on breakfast, are you?" You jump slightly at the sudden voice from behind you. He sounded husky and hoarse. His voice was attractive before but now.. you'd love to hear that every morning.

"Uhh. Potentially." Your own voice sounded hoarse from the long night of basically screaming your lungs out.

Satoru made a tsk tsk noise before pushing himself from the headboard, moving closer to you. Ghosting a finger down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

"I'm hurt sweetheart. Why are you in such a hurry?" He questioned, leaning forward to place sweet pecks along your shoulder.

"I thought you might've liked that I was gone before you woke up."

"What? No. Matter of fact, I would've been positively sad." You snickered a little as he crawled up your back, resting his chin on your shoulder, head tilted to look upon your face. His hands wrapping around you, holding you in place.

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm. I think I might've even been depressed for a week." He hummed, pulling you back towards him.

"A week! That's insane. I must be a lucky girl." You teased. You didn't exactly know what to expect, you still didn't know how to take him. To you, Satoru was out of your league but here he was, smooching all over you; acting bummed out if you had left without any explanation.

"I'd like to think, I'm the lucky one here." You twisted your head to look at him, seeing the cheeky grin on his face, made your own one appear. He was giving you little shit vibes.

"Oh really? That's a bit of a hot take."

"Yes, I'd like to think so." His tone was seductive, reminding you of last night's festivities. He was the start of an addiction that you were scared you could never get rid of. You just continue to stare at his gorgeous features with a sweet smile.

"So how about that breakfast? That you oh so nearly missed out on?"

Though it took some trial and errors, Satoru managed to actually let you go to do what he suggested. Not before throwing you a top of his that you hesitated to accept and a cheeky comment.

"I would offer you some shorts but honestly, I'd love to see your ass."

You somewhat appreciated the offer but realistically, you didn't think you could fit your wide hips past the waistband. The shirt wasn't exactly big for you but it was loose enough to feel comfortable wearing.

It might be from his broad shoulders that it genuinely fit nicely on you. It didn't exactly hang off your shoulders but it didn't tighten around your stomach.

You spot your arch nemesis from the opposite side of the room that you failed to miss earlier.

The mirror.

The one that showed you all and harshly told you the truth.

You find yourself wondering over to it, staring at your reflection. Your reflection staring right back.

Your hand brushed along your thigh, travelling up and pulling Satoru's shirt, showing the bruising he had left in his wake. You did not mind whatsoever, you found it almost attractive.

But what you didn't like is what really caught your eye, the fading of stretch marks that were spread over your stomach. You were grateful that you had no new ones but the remaining remnants were still bad enough.

Your eyes fluttered closed, inhaling deeply. Prying yourself away from.. yourself. You didn't need to be bring yourself down right now. You wanted to stay and feel content. At least for now.

You wonder out of the bedroom, immediately being meet with an open floor plan, Satoru's back was facing from you as he worked at his sizzling pan. A tasty aroma floated through the air, delighting your nostrils.

All the furniture was white and black, an almost expected aesthetic.

But it did bring a little snicker out of you. Oh hell would it be a nightmare with little hands. Your kids would definitely leave their marks.

"Now. I'm well aware I'm hilarious but I haven't exactly made a joke yet." Satoru smiled turning to look back causing you to playfully roll your eyes at the grown man.

"Who says I'm laughing at you." He properly turned to face you; frying pan in hand. You made your way around the island, watching as he dishes up a simple breakfast; eggs, toast and bacon. You weren't complaining. It looked yummy.

Gojo decided to ignore your comment, instead sending a small smirk your way. His eyes looked you up and down, taking in your figure. The daylight shining on you, showing you off much better than being in the dark. There was something about seeing you in his shirt that just really got him going. It definitely showed off your curves and the fact you had nothing on underneath, no panties; what was stopping him from bending you over the counter and fucking you senseless. Again.

You were more than his type. There was nothing better than something hold on to. Your hips were absolutely perfect, not to mention that big ass you had. There was absolutely nothing wrong with a woman with large curves in his eyes.

"You're staring." You stated as you leaned against the kitchen counter, staring up at the tall blue eyed man.

"Am I? Is that a crime?" You shook your head, laughing lightly at the silly face he pulled. Satoru sat the pan on the bench before reaching for you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I mean.. it can be considered harassment." You teased as you cupped his elbow, allowing him to pull you closer.

"You should make an exception for me, you just look so good in my shirt." He moved to cage you against the counter, hands placed on either side of you. His face in close proximity. As much as you wanted to indulge even further, you knew you couldn't. This was suppose to be a hook up and you needed to get home. Considering it was a weekend, you knew your siblings would still be asleep and the last thing you needed was for them to see you in such a state.

You pressed a hand on Gojo's chest, pushing him back softly, a gentle but sad smile on your lips, causing the grown man to pout.

"I can't stay. I really need to get home." You whispered, patting his chest softly. You avoided his eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by nervousness. You didn't know how he would react at you rejecting his advances. You were expecting the worse.

Satoru stepped back, a low whine slipping from his lips "Ahh right. I suppose, I shouldn't hold you here against your will.." You watched him continue to pout, expecting a whole different reaction but he continues to surprise you.

"Even though I did make you breakfast.." his foot kicked lightly at the linoleum, his body swaying along. Even though you knew what he was trying to do, it was different. There was no ill intent behind his words, no obligation to. No forcefulness.

"Are you trying to guilt trip me?" You teased placing a hand on your hip, tweaking an eyebrow at him.

"Is it working?" You slowly shake your head, a smirk resting on your lips.

"Ugh fine. Next time."

Your eyes widen at his confession. Next time? Gojo wanted to see you again? And here you thought, he felt the same way. Maybe being excited to get you out.

"What? is there something on my face?" He questioned while pointing at finger at his features.

You didn't know how to feel honestly. Inside, you definitely knew you wanted to see him again, wanting to actually get to know him beyond the sheets but realistically you didn't know if it was a good idea. Yeah he made you feel REALLLLY good, made you feel comfortable with yourself for the night but in the back of your mind, it felt sort of forced and you didn't know if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

What would happen if you fell for it and he completely turned around and said the same exact things, you heard with previous partners.

You'd honestly prefer ghosting.

"You want to see me again?" Your voice was small, nearing a whisper. His fingers lightly brushed across your chin, pushing some of your baby hairs behind your ear; with a tender smile.

"Most definitely." Your heart fluttered at his words but couldn't get rid of the fear, the trauma that plagued it.

Satoru was far from stupid, he could sense your hesitation from a mile away. One of the benefits from having six eyes. He couldn't truly understand why.

Why would you hesitate to accept further advancements from someone like Gojo. It intrigued him.

From since he was a teenager, he was used to woman literally throwing themselves at him and he would've definitely indulged in it. Throughout the years, throughout everything that had happened, he lost interest. Being a constant target and dealing with all types of curses, will do that to you.

The one night, where he took his students advice to genuinely have a night to himself, he found you.

It was like you were a breath of fresh air that he needed to inhale.

A drug that would nullify his senses and forget about the world around him.

He wasn't going to let you go, he just had to have you.

And he was cocky enough to know he would.

After eating breakfast together, you were gathering your belongings, trying to decide whether to put your club clothes back on.

Gojo was not having it.

"No no no. Just take them." Satoru was forcefully trying to push a pair of black sweatpants into your hands, determined to keep you in his clothes.

"Gojo. I can't steal your clothes." You muttered, pushing his hands away. This was what you were afraid of. The last thing you need is an awkward conversation about how you cannot fit his sweats.

"I don't mind at all. I MEAN I wouldn't mind seeing you in that little sexy skimpy dress again but I think it'll be even more sexier, seeing you in my clothes." This man will most likely be the death of you.

The rounds continued, you pushed his hands away and he'd push them right back.

"Fine! Fine! I'll wear them!" You exclaimed; getting fed up, snatching them from his grip. Expecting to prove this man wrong.

"He he he he." The man child giggled, choosing to ignore the annoyed look on your beautiful face.

Hiding your face behind your hair that flowed, you lean down to shove your legs through the holes of the pants, shimming them up.

To your surprise, they did in fact fit. Not exactly baggy but not tight either.

Tch. Stupid man. You thought.

"Perfect. Now, should we get going?" You quirked an eyebrow at him, his words leaving you confused. What did he mean by we?

Since your phone was flat, it was out of the question to ring anyone to come and get you. So you were actually expecting to just catch a bus home, only coming up with the plan now. You hadn't really taken in much thought on how you were going to get to the other side of town.

At least the walk of shame wouldn't be too prominent.

"Don't give me that look, Princess. I'm taking you. No objections." You huffed at the new nickname; blushing deeply. Having no more energy to continue fighting with this man, you gave a simple nod, shooting him a lazy smile.

**

You found yourself playing with Gojo's fingers once again as his hand rested on your thigh, his other hand preoccupied on the steering wheel.

You won't lie, you did somewhat miss intimate moments like these. It was somewhat relaxing.

There was something about Satoru's hands that made you feel warm inside. They felt calm. Steady.

But what surprised you the most about them, was the fact they weren't as soft as you thought they would've been. They were slightly rough to the touch, calloused but yet smooth.

You'd like to think hands told a story. Showing years of experience. Telling you exactly who the person could be. Satoru clearly has worked his ass off to get to where he is and in given time, he'll tell you about it.

You've managed to accept the fact that Gojo wasn't going down without a fight. He was a determined man. Seeming to know exactly what he wants and it's evidently he gets it.

But you weren't going to back down. If he wanted you as much as he says he does. He was going to work for it. You'd make sure.

"Why do you wear sunglasses? I mean the sun isn't exactly present?" Your mouth spoke before you could think as you glazed upon his attractive side profile. It was oddly strange to you. I mean, he was wearing them in the middle of a nightclub.. at night.

Gojo let out a light chuckle "My eyes are quite sensitive."

You had no reason to not believe him but something deep down was telling you that wasn't exactly it, you weren't going to integrate. You'd take his word for it.

It made sense to you somewhat, his eyes were abnormal. You've never seen such gorgeous irises before.

"Do you suffer from Photophobia?" You asked with genuine interest.

"Something like that."

You felt him squeeze your thigh, slightly. Your mind immediately start to stir with dirty thoughts, having an overwhelming feeling to feel his fingers on you again. You were slowly beginning to regret turning him down.

You chewed on your bottom lip as your eyes traveled down to his crotch. Your mouth started to salivate and his hand on your thigh was not helping. It was still a fair amount to get to your little home.

Maybe you could give him something to pay him back for his troubles.

"Satoru."

"Hmm?" He flicked his eyes to the side briefly, awaiting what he was presuming was another question.

"Can I give you head?" He nearly choked on air but kept his composure. Before a wide smile appeared. No. He was the lucky one.

After seeing his reaction, you didn't wait for a worded response, your hands already made their way over to work at his sweats.

He shifted in his seat slightly, removing his hand from your thigh and wrapping it around your seat; placed on the opposite side of the headrest.

His semi hard cock sprung free, a hiss slipping past his lips as the cold air touched his long appendage.

You didn't waste any time, wrapping your fingers around, slowly jerking him. You were in a trance, basically drooling at the site of his pink tip.

Satoru sighed lowly, trying to keep his eyes fixated on the road. His free hand moving from the seat to caress the back of your head, guiding you down.

Once your face was where it needed to be, your lips pressed a soft kiss to his tip, drawing a low whine from Satoru.

You layered small kisses down his shaft slowly and once at the bottom, you licked back up before wrapping your lips around his cock. You moved at a slow pace, bobbing your head up and down, tongue twirling around his tip.

Satoru's fingers made their way into your hair, pulling lightly at your roots. Your mouth is amazing. So warm and comforting. He tried his hardest to not buck his hips into your mouth.

"Fuck. You're teasing me." He groaned as he quickly looked down at you and back up to the road. Trying to ignore the urge to make you gag on him. His grip on the steering wheel tighten; knuckles turning white.

Your hand sat firmly at the base of his shaft, picking up your pace, taking more of his delicious cock. You pushed yourself further down until you felt the resistance of him hitting the back of your throat, causing you to pull him out of your mouth with a pop, allowing you to release the breath you were holding. Your hand resumed jerking him off.

"So impatient." You mumble licking your lips before shoving his cock back in your mouth.

"Fuck.." Gojo moaned loudly, pushing your head down slightly, listening to the sound of you slurping him up.

His hold on your hair tighten, tugging softly, pulling a moan from your full mouth. You were bobbing your head faster, sucking harder.

"That's it.." Gojo scooped your hair up that threaten to fall in your way with his spare hand. You continued to take more of his girth, his tip hitting your uvula. You moaned against him as he slowly started to rock his hips into your mouth, at a slow pace.

All you could think about was his cum shooting down your throat, the thought alone was enough to rub your thighs together to repel the growing ache.

Satoru's eyes looked upon you, watching your head bob away, relishing in the wet noises that were being produced by that pleasing mouth.

Quickly looking back up to the road, his head pressed back against the headrest as he felt himself approaching nirvana. His thrusts became sloppier, more desperate as you took him like the good girl you were.

"What a perfect mouth. You are doing so well."

You allowed Gojo to rut into your mouth without missing a beat at the back of your throat, he was close and you couldn't wait to swallow him whole.

Gojo let out a guttural growl as his hips thrusted a little bit harder. Your eyes rolling to the back of their sockets as you felt his hot cum shoot down your throat. You eagerly lapped him up.

You sat up back in your seat, wiping at the corners of your mouth, your lips were swollen and stinging with all kinds of sensations. You smirked at the panting mess of the man, a seductive and dazed look resting on your features.

"You keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna have to pull over and fuck you silly." He didn't even look at you to notice your face.

Of course he didn't need to, he was Satoru Gojo after all...

"I don't think you understand how much I really want too right now." He teased, his eyes flicking over to you.

You reach forward and shove his cheek to force him to look back on the road "We can't. I need to get home." Gojo whined dramatically.

"You can't just get away with that. Please give me 5 minutes." He pleaded desperately.

"No Satoru!" You giggled loudly, making Gojo's smile only grow wider.

"Please. It'll be quick." You continued to laugh at his desperation. Your head shook in disbelief.

"Watch the road Gojo!"

**

Your palms started to get sweaty as Gojo pulled up to your street. You started to feel a bit anxious, you were slightly freaking yourself out at the thought that maybe Satoru would completely change his mind when he saw where you lived.

You couldn't help it, you've obviously seen where he lives, that he does really well for himself, what is going to happened when he sees that you actually come from a lower class household...

Would he even care?

"Which one doll?"

"On the left, the little blue one." Your voice was small as you pointed towards your childhood home. You exhaled a breath when you saw Rast's car was still in the driveway.

Gojo pulled up to the curb, putting the car into park; turning to face you with a slight furrow of his eyebrows.

That small action was enough to put you on the edge, all of a sudden you wanted to get out of the car and never look back. You slowly reached for the handle before Satoru pulled out a little piece of paper; waving it in your face.

"I hope you call me. I wasn't lying about wanting to see you again." Satoru grinned at you with a slight tilt of his head. All of those unwanted thought flushed away as your fingers went to grab the small piece before he pulled his hand away.

You huffed as his grin turned cheeky, his eyes falling to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

"You're not gonna leave me hanging, are you?" You playfully rolled your eyes, grabbing his collar with your fist, tugging him forward.

"You play too much." You whispered before capturing his lips with yours, his hand caresses your cheek; deepening the kiss. It was happening again that feeling, the way your lips moulded together just felt right and it drew you in more.

Your fingers fly through the air, grabbing the piece of paper that was in his other hand, snatching it gracefully before detaching your lips from his; denying anymore advances.

He sat back in the drivers seat, his lips slightly red and swollen, smirking. "Damn."

Gojo was speechless, for once in his life. All that was going through his mind, was the next time he was going to see you. He will be counting down the days. He was already craving his next fix.

You take your chance and push open the door, stepping out of the car; closing the door behind you softly.

"What? No kiss goodbye?" You leaned down to poke your head through the window, staring at his playful pout.

"I just kissed you!"

"Yeah that wasn't a goodbye." He protested, leaning forward to get closer to you; hand resting where you were just sitting.

"Goodbye Satoru." You leaned your hand in to brush against his fingers before pushing yourself away from the car. You weren't going to give in. He needed to work for it.

Even if that means you were going to play hard to get.

As you started your walk to your front door, you heard the white hair man call out from behind you.

"You and that ass of yours, better call me!"

Satoru couldn't hold it in, watching as you waltzed away with a sway of your large hips, your ass on full display in those sweats of his. You were a tease.

And you were definitely going to regret it.

"If you're lucky!" You called back with a wave of your hand, not bothering to turn around, hiding your bright grin and red cheeks.

He really was going to be the death of you.

**

You push open your front door, walking inside and tossing your heels and bag on the ground.

"Um. Whose Matte Black Dodge Challenger Hellcat is that?" You rounded the corner to the living room, spotting Rast peeking behind the curtain; eyes glued out the window.

"Your love for cars is.. something else." You sighed, resting your hands on your aching hips.

"Damn bitch. He did a number on you.... Good night?" Zariah giggled as she looked up from her phone, a wide grin resting on her features. You couldn't hold in the uncontrollable smile that was forcing itself onto your lips.

"You could say that."

After being forced down on the couch, you proceeded to tell them about your night. Leaving out the intense parts, which you will mostly tell Zariah later.

You couldn't help your cheeks when they started to flush with heat, covering it up with an awkward laugh as you were trying to explain, though it was very tame compared to what actually happened.

Zariah was giggling like a little girl and Rast basically sat there with his fingers in his ears.

"Blah blah blah! I don't wanna hear anymore!" Both of the girls snickered at the blonde man.

"What all I said was, I gave him-"

"STOP! I regret my decision!" You burst out laughing at the light blush on his cheeks, Zariah just rolled her eyes at her boyfriend.

"I don't know why you're freaking out so much, you quite literally tell me when you are fuck-" Rast quickly covered her mouth, his blue eyes penetrating her own, causing the girl to chuckle into his hands.

Your shoulders shake as you let out a hearty chuckle before gripping the arm of the couch and pushing yourself up.

"I'm gonna have a shower before the little snots wake up." Zariah quickly stood up, her hand shot above her in the air.

"I'm coming too!"

You filled Zariah in on the juicy details that you purposely left out, she was beyond shocked and also happy, which is why now you are in this predicament.

"What do you mean you don't know! He's clearly very interested and you want to pass it up?" You dried your hair with your towel, aggressively.

"I don't know what I want. It just seems too good to be true." You mumbled as you dug through your drawers for a fresh pair of panties.

"He's out of my league."

"Tch. We are not doing this. You're fucking gorgeous. Call him. I repeat, don't leave him hanging for too long." Your best friend scoffed, shoving your phone into your hands before exiting your room; leaving you with yourself.

What were you going to do?

What did you want?

The rest of the day was a blur to you, the lack of sleep was really catching up with you.

Zariah and Rast ended up going home not too long ago, leaving you in the kitchen, staring down at the small piece of paper; that sat nicely on the counter.

You sighed deeply, resting your chin on your palm.

Why do you feel nervous?

Your stomach was churning, your head was throbbing and your eyes were teary; ready to have a nap.

Your fingers tapped against the counter, vigorously; drumming a beat.

Bitting your bottom lip, you grab your phone and punch the number Satoru gave you, hesitantly putting it to your ear.

As you heard the ring, you peeked through the kitchen door, eyes setting on your little sister; who was happily watching her movie.

Your breathing hitched as you heard the line pick up, hearing his voice again.

"Yo."

"Hi. Satoru."

There was a slight pause, making you even more nervous.

"Who's this?"

You couldn't believe your ears, almost feeling irritated. Nearly falling for it once again.

...

"Are you serious?"

Before you could lose your mind and go off, there was hearty laughter on the other end.

"I'm only joking doll. I was wondering when you were going to call." You face palmed aggressively, feeling slightly annoyed.

"You're lucky I even did." You spoke before you could think, slight irritation in your tone. You immediately regretted it.

But he only chuckled at your response "I must be very lucky then."

You smiled slightly, thankful he didn't take it the way you intended.

"So.. why did you want me to call you?" You had a slight teasing tone to your voice.

"Hmm. Maybe so I could take you out. Get to know you a little. Have some fun." You blushed lightly at his words.

"I think this is a bit backwards." You pointed out, a smirk resting on your lips, your back going to lean against the counter.

"Eh. Now we don't have to feel guilty about fucking on the first date." Your mouth hung agape, quickly closing it before you caught flies.

Before you could even get another word out; express your opinion on the matter.

"Gojo Sensei!"

You heard from the other side in the background; needing to pull the phone away from your ear at the screeching.

"Gotta go! Talk to you later beautiful." His farewell was quick, not willing to wait around for another moment. As the called ended, you just stared at your phone with a dumbfounded expression.

Did you hear that right? Is Gojo a teacher?

You wouldn't have guessed that would be his occupation. To be honest, you don't know what you would've guessed..

"Sidda?" Your eyes fall upon the six year old that was pulling at your shirt.

"What would you like little girl?" You ask with a forced smile, lowering to her level.

"I'm hungry.."

[thedevilsoftruth]

Let's talk about The Winter Soilder for a moment.

Specifically, his bigger entrance in the movie Cpatain America: The Winter Soilder.

This scene makes my theatre nerd heart happy on so many different levels. There are so many different frames in this very short clip. It is only 1 minute and 15 seconds long. This entire scene is the epitome of dread. Dread and pure and utter confusion. You don't need words to tell a story, and that is something The Winter Soilder proves as a villain.

We start out with Nick Furys " Get. Me. Off. The grid! "

And then, we get a longshot from his cars broken windshield. It's blurry, and it's obviously cracked. We see this mysterious figure just. Standing in the middle of the fucking road.

Now obviously, I can't show you the entire thing frame by frame like I'd like because Tumblr only allows a certain amount of photos to be posted in a singular post--BUT

We get a shot of the winter solider's arm lifting up his weird disc grenade launcher for a split second, then we get a shot of him from the back above his shoulders, pointing his weapon at Fury's car. We go into a close up shot, but notice how we still avoid the solider's face. The camera is pointed at the gun, blurring his face In the background ( this is fully intentional. ) This is only shown for a split second, teasing us by continuing to not show a clear image of his face.

Then we go into three frames that are only shown for a little bit of time. They are all longshots. We get a 3/4 angle here of the Winter Solider, and he's lowering his weapon after shooting off the grenade.

Longshot showcasing the Winter Solider's backside as he steps to the side, also showcasing the front of the Fury's car as it flips. We also get a nice little car zooming out of the way to avoid trouble. Very realistic.

I love this shot.

What makes this so scary is how casual the Winter Solider is whenever he's moved. He's been doing this for almost 70 years at this point. He starts out in the middle of the road, he is by any normal human standards, within arms reach of potential death. And then, as the car flips, he just... Steps to the side? It's only a few feet away from the car, and he is still caught in the smoke from the explosion as he does so. This man's timing is immaculate. It is not something you learn in just a couple of years; it's something you learn with decades of continuous practice.

After this, we get a glimpse of the crowd on the nearby street and their reaction to this being done. It's another longshot and it's shown from the backsides of the people in the crowd. While we get their reaction, we are also still seeing Fury's car being flipped on the road!

We go into a medium shot of Winter Solider as he speed walks back to Fury's car.

We see a glimpse of Fury trying to recollect himself, he groans in confusion and he gets to position himself back up. He's figuring out what to do next, but he's so confused at that point.

We go into a over-the-shoulder shot of Winter Solider as he walks.

Then, we get a close up of Fury. It starts out slow as he moves his head fo get a look at the shooter. This shows his reaction after the severe damage is done to his car. He's bleeding, and he's looking at the Winter Solider as he makes his way back over to him.

Then we go into another longshot of the Winter Solider from Fury's point of view. He's walking towards Fury, and the camera is still because it's from Fury's point of view.

We get another close up of Fury as he holds a weapon in his hands, implying that he might use it on the Winter Solider.

Another longshot of the Solider, and then, we get this knee-level-shot of him. This is shown specifically to show his gun in his hand, and is used specifically to show that he's going to use that gun.

This angle is used typically to demonstrate power or dominance a character might have. The way he is walking asserts a high level of danger and power. The gun in his hand only adds to that danger and fear this shot is trying to convey.

We get a ground-level-shot that is supposed to be taken from the point of view from Fury, and it showcases the Winter Solider's boots as he walks toward the car.

We get this first; Winter Solider's metal arm on the door of Fury's car. The emphasis is on his metal arm.

Once again, asserting danger, fear and power.

Medium shot taken, once again showing his metal arm ripping off the door from the car.

Once again, the emphasis is clearly on his arm and how strong it is. In fact, the emphasis has always been on the Winter Solider's arm through this entire movie. When Steve encounters Winter Solider for the first time, the Winter Solider catches Steves shield with his metal arm.

The shield is made of vibranium--the Earth's strongest metal, was moving very fast and could have flung the Winter Solider off the building and even broken his arm from the frequency the shield was flung at.

But it doesn't. And he stays perfectly still and catches the shield perfectly. This goes to show just how strong his metal arm is. Not only that but it goes to show that the Winter Solider is clearly a very well trained fighter and that his aim is unmatched.

And then peek-a-boo! We get an extreme close up on the Winter Solider's face as he realizes Fury is no longer in the car, then the camera pans in on the small hole Fury dug to creep his way out of death!!!

And then, end scene.

But you didn't think that was really the end of this discussion, did you? Oh god no. I am just getting started. You're gonna want to stay for this one, it's my favorite part.

One of the bigger reasons why I love this scene even more is because of the music in it. The Winter Solider's motif/theme song is one of the most confusing, horrifying, yet beautifully ominous tracks I've ever heard for a film score. And I listen to a lot of film scores.... And Nine Inch Nails so the loudness/electronic-ness of it is probably why I like it so much.

Immediately after Winter Solider is shown through Nick's broken windshield and we get Nick's little " get me off the grid, " everything goes silent.

Only for a moment, however. There is a very high-pitched frequency heard through very low, ambient music. The high-pitched noise heard not only occurs throughout the entirety of the Winter Solider's theme, but also the entire movie. This " high-pitched noise " is the Winter Solider's motif.

Its heard for a slight moment when Steve, Sam and Natasha are prosecuted. Steve is confused, and he's looking down at his hands, and he says " it was him. " This motif is used before he speaks those words, almost to foreshadow what his next words would be and to also foreshadow the ending of the film when we discover that Bucky Barnes is the Winter Solider.

Now what is this high-pitched frequency?

It's the sampled sound of a person screaming.

A sampled sound of a person's agonized screaming and groaning. It's slowed down, the pitch is heightened, and there is a long lasting reverb affect with it. The echoing, I think, is particularly a very interesting aspect of the sample. It's almost as if it's supposed to be heard from a very big, empty room. Like a cell.

The cell Hydra would keep Bucky in.

The screaming is representing, obviously, Bucky and the amounts of agonized screaming he makes when being tortured. The groaning represents his pain. Captain America: Civil War literally opens with the screams of Bucky Barnes as he's being tortured.

The music is low and filled with ambience, and it's that way to keep you on edge and scared. This track is designed to make you feel the pain of the Winter Solider, the chaos running through his mind and the absolute fear he is forced to force into you.

The track is almost unlistenable. There is a very long build up, and towards the middle of it--things get very loud very quickly. The tempo of the song is not moving that fast. It is significantly a faster tempo than before, but it's very slow and very loud.

Its electronic and each beat leaves you feeling like you had just been punched in the face. I also like the random drums that are heard at the end of the track, I think it adds an even more chaotic feeling to the track.

And it only gets louder and louder.

Do you remember how I said earlier that the emphasis with the Winter Solider in this movie was how he had a metal arm?

There are a lot of mechanical like sounds that are heard throughout the track. The mechanic sounds are like wiring. Like the whirring that is heard from the machine that wipes Bucky's memory in the middle of the movie.

Like the mechanical aspects of the Winter Solider's arm.

Not only that, but towards the build up and during the loud parts in the middle of the track, there is the sound of a car being driven, and the cars speed is heard accelerating and accelerating before it is randomly cut off.

Like Nick Fury's car, which he tipped over and exploded.

Or like the Winter Solider's last trigger word; freight car, which is a direct reference to the freight train he fell off of.

The sound of this car accelerating is heard randomly through the track and is heard one last time towards the end of it before it is cut off so the last five seconds can play undisturbed.

But the loudness of the track almost never dies down. Not even during the last five seconds of the track after the loud, electronic break is over. The last five seconds are the sampled screams the track opens with. Only they are 10x more distorted and louder than they started with and aren't muffled or lowered or slowed down.

Now my main point: You don't need words to tell a story. The Winter Solider's motif was able to foreshadow the ending of the film with one small detail within the track.

The constant panning into the Winter Solider's arm told us that his metal arm was his greatest weapon; a blessing to hydra but a curse to Bucky Barnes.

Not only that, but Nick Fury didn't need to tell us he was going to dig a big ass hole into the ground to escape the crazy ass motherfucker trying to kill him. All we needed was the Winter Solider ripping off the door to his car and looking into it only to see the hole that was dug.

Ladies and gentlemen....

This is art.... At its finest.

I hope you enjoyed my little ted talk.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What mask do you wear that is keeping you from the rebirth you have been waiting for?

I have a ton of prompts that I have waiting! My partner picked this one intuitively for the day so shout out to them. The decks used today are the Star Spinner Tarot, the Healing Waters Oracle and the Starseed Oracle. Take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new experiences.

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Leo, Pisces, Cancer

Song: Magic by B.o.B.

Vibes: Pink, blue, yellow, mice, rabbits, corvids, dice, bear, mushroom, 666, watermelon, kiwi, pancakes, hockey, activism, university, fairies, Amaterasu

Cards: The Sun, The Moon, 6 of Wands, The Waterfall, Cracked Open

Hello, pile one! The mask you wear is a mask of logic. You think you need to see it to believe it. You have a tendency to see the worst-case scenario in a lot of situations. You see life as guilty until proven innocent. This point of view is understandable but it is limiting your success. Why assume that you will fail before you have even begun? Especially, because you are so capable and a powerful manifester. You seem to believe that you deserve to fail. This belief is a subconscious belief that you can definitely remove easily if you just knew it was there. Take this mask off and you will see your dreams come true! Your manifestation will come true fast and easy it'll feel like the impossible became mundane. Spread your wings and fly my dear. You don't need to fear jumping from the nest. You have always been ready no matter who told you that you weren't. I believe in you, the universe believes in you! Please believe in yourself too!

PILE TWO

Astrology: Scorpio, Aquarius, Sagittarius

Song: We Are Golden by MIKA

Vibes: Lavender, periwinkle, gold, make-up, skin routine, hair routine, routine in general, butterflies, dragons, 444, sleeping beauty, roses, stars, crown, the sky, chocolate

Cards: King of Cups, 4 of Swords, 4 of Pentacles, Thank You, The Golden Children

Hi, pile two! Welcome to your reading. This miiiight be a little hard to hear so heads up on that. You are being held back by a mask that can't exist in the present. You are constantly thinking of what will be to the point where when you get the manifestation you were wishing for you can't even enjoy it because your mind has already turned to the next achievement to work towards. You are incredibly driven but I see how unsatisfied you feel about all that you do because of this mask. Take time to congratulate yourself! Take time to give yourself a gold star for your efforts. You worked so hard!!! Thank yourself for working so hard. Thank the world for what you have in front of you. What you will have is important to work towards but what you have now is still worthy of recognition. Look back at how much you put into what you have now. Look at all that you have achieved! It's hard for you to recall. The tunnel vision you get from the task at hand is blinding you from everything you have already done. Please see how well you have performed so far. Acknowledge yourself. Acknowledge your strength. Your inner child is screaming at me "ACKNOWLEDGE ME ACKNOWLEDGE ME ACKNOWLEDGE ME!!!!" You need to hear them because wow they are yelling loud. Don't just buy them something nice by the way. Genuinely allow them to feel happy about what they have done. Pat them on the head and tell them you see them.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Libra, Aries, Capricorn, Taurus

Song: The Call by Regina Spektor

Vibes: Pastel pink, yellow, teal, clocks, falcons, Horus, armor, coy fish, 8888, storms, renaissances festival, mermaids, libedo, strawberries, cucumbers, caramel

Cards: 6 of Cups, 8 of Wands, 8 of Pentacles, Let It Rain, Star Brothers

Pile three, welcome. You wear a mask of perfectionism. You have the belief that only you can perform tasks to the right standard. Part of this belief is good but some of it is holding you back. I am glad you have confidence in your abilities and feel capable enough to do things on your own. The problem is you feel this way a lot more than is physically healthy. You believe it so deeply it makes you over-exert yourself constantly. You probably feel super tired all the time. Part of you longs immensely for help with all the tasks you do. It feels lonely to do everything alone with no companionship. Let me tell you a little secret, my friend. Let them fail. Let people underperform the tasks that aren't and shouldn't be your responsibility. If you let things slip through the cracks it might seem like you are failing but really what you are doing by letting people fail is helping others learn lessons. You are doing yourself and the people around you a disservice by taking responsibility for tasks that need to be failed. If the people around you fail, they will be more likely to learn faster. You are robbing them of lessons and exhausting yourself in the process. That literally helps no one. The next time you see someone not doing their job properly. Let them. Let them not do their job. If someone else tries to make it your problem you tell them what I just told you, okay? It will make you a better teacher and the people around you better students. Let people fuck it up. Trust the universe. Trust people to learn even if it takes them a couple times to figure it out. Failure is the best lesson teacher.

PILE 4

Astrology: Capricorn, Gemini, Virgo

Song: Hell's Coming With Me by Poor Man's Poison

Vibes: Purple, lilac, navy blue, ibis bird, Thoth, architecture, stars, akashic records, 3rd eye chakra, crown charka, dreams, diamonds, lilys, daffodils, angels, whiskey, pyramids, curse breaker, dragonfruit, mangoes

Cards: The High Priestess, The Star, Ace of Swords, Stagnant Waters, Star Ancestors

Hi there, pile four. You wear a mask of imposter syndrome. You don't think you've done enough. It doesn't matter how much you have achieved. You never think it is enough. You are blind to how much you do. You have the belief that the world would be better off without you but the thing is. You raise the planet's vibration WAAAAY more than you believe. You have such a good heart and you are so balanced. You are kind, smart, intuitive, wise and witty. I wish you could see yourself clearly because you are truly an angel. The thing is all the things I just named are things you wish to be. You wish it as if you aren't aligned with those things already. The mask you are wearing is distorting your vision of your true self. The only thing holding you back is your perception of yourself. Let go of the past criticism that plagues you, my dear. You took that critique in stride and grew far past your initial goal. You have succeeded already. You already did it! Congratulations on being super awesome and cool! You don't need to wish upon a star anymore, baby! You are already a star yourself. <3 Change your view of yourself and you will be UNSTOPPABLE!!!

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. ��Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

[fandomwritingbit]

Sweet girl pt.4

dbf William Afton x fem/virgin reader

synop: William finds reader sunbathing and goes after the opportunity, even with the risk of her dad catching the two of you.

warning: smut, corruption, coercion, inappropriate relationship, exhibitionism(?) William is as always pretty creepy and manipulative.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3

A/n: This one is pretty dirty at the end, just a heads up if you're into playing around with cum.

The view was fortunate, is the first thought to enter William’s head when he sees you like that. Completely unaware of him, facing away with your head buried in some book as you try to pick up some sun on your back. Vulnerable to him, the only thing keeping you safe was the french windows of your house, separating the fox from the rabbit. 

He’d come over meaning to return some kind of wrench to your dad, in hindsight you remember the conversation in passing, how you hadn’t been paying attention until you learned William was coming. Your father’s car wasn’t in the drive but he let himself in anyway, a flimsy hope of catching you home alone pushing him to. He called out, he’s not a complete criminal, “Anyone home?” and the like, all to no reply. Maybe he would have crept up the stairs to find your room, with you in it would have been delightful, but he still could have busied himself if you weren’t. Now that’s a thought, he bets your room is sweet, probably a tonne of pillows and teddies, some kind of soft light-coloured duvet, that air of innocence you’ve managed to maintain all this time. Delicious. 

Maybe he would have done that, if not for the music. Some sort of summery, perhaps Spanish influenced guitar, muffled through the house as though it were close by, so he looked for its source. And by God, is he glad he did.  

Your house has a knack for letting a lot of light in, keeps the place bright and airy, and now he sees why, not a stitch of curtains to be found on the large glass windows, and not much of a stitch to be found on you either. It’s the most tantalising sight, your legs bare and leading up to the plump of your arse in such a little bikini, the kind that ties with string at the hips. He notes its practicality for an adjustable fit but also its practicality for other reasons. Just watching through the glass, he palms the growing hardness in his trousers as he considers his options. 

Santana, you think to yourself when the next song on the playlist you found begins to play, your dad likes this song, you reckon you do too, though you can’t really decide from one or two listens. And you’re not really concentrating, not with your novel open in front of you, which after days of forcing yourself to read was finally getting interesting. Occupied. Distracted. Easy. 

That’s why you don’t hear the back door slide open. 

In fact, you don’t hear anything. Not the door. Not the footsteps on the grass. The only thing that makes William’s presence known to you is his shadow on your book, his large frame stealing your light. It’s a chilling sight, the kind of realisation that pushes you into slow motion; there’s someone behind you. 

You twist around so fast that your sunbed almost tips over with the force of your body against it, knees tucked up and eyes pinned open wide. The weight of adrenaline in your veins blinds you to the sight, it takes a few seconds before you realise that it’s him, and fear for your life can subside. Well, marginally. 

He can’t help but laugh at the frantic way you turned, all reflex as evident in its clumsiness, he should have said something, but hindsight is 20/20. 

With your chest still heaving, you try desperately to calm yourself down, “William?!” You say, with no real thought as to why. And at the predatory grin on his face you remember how little you're wearing, your skimpiest bikini, all straps and little substance so you can pick up as much sun as possible. You regret that now, especially with how blatantly his gaze is on your cleavage. “How uh did you get in?” You think the question as you ask it, concern making your brows raise. 

Finally managing to bring his gaze to your eyes, the sly expression on his face doesn’t budge an inch. “Door was unlocked.” His words are nonchalant and you nod, wishing you had a towel on hand to cover up with. Your dad was a bugger for leaving the door unlocked, case proven that any fucker could just walk in. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, my fence hopping days are long over.” 

You give him a small smile, though you’re not entirely convinced, with how persistent he’s been with you so far you don’t doubt he’d break and enter for another taste; and that thought makes your stomach flutter. 

“So… what are you doing?” Your voice is small, pinched with nerves, his stature over you right now is insanely intimidating, so tall you swear he could pick you up and toss you around like a dolly. 

“Just enjoying the view, it’s a lovely day.” He makes a point of looking you up and down, leaving you no question as to what view he’s referring to. You’re art, the way you’re propped up on your arms, nipples peeking through the tiny bikini top, your legs shiny in the sun pressed together to hide the part of you that sings to him. 

You look up at him shyly, uncertainly saying, “Yeah it is-” Your words go dry in your mouth when William’s hand come to your leg, a firm grip on your ankle that traces up more gently over your calf. You shiver at the touch. 

“This isn’t… My dad will be home soon.” You start trying to explain why him coming onto you right now wasn’t a good idea, but when your core is fluttering from his touch it’s pretty persuasive. 

“That is such a shame.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, the false sadness practically tangible. As he speaks, he catches your ankles, lifting them so he can sit at the bottom of the sun bed, where he lets your legs lay over him, resuming grazing over your skin. “And here I was hoping to spend some time with you. It’s just a terrible set of circumstances, isn’t it?” He continues equally as mockingly and you can’t help but giggle. It’s manipulative, you think, how insistent this man can be without seeming too pushy, he has you wrapped around his finger when if anything it should be the other way around. 

“”But what if-” You start, but he cuts you off like he can read your mind. 

“We’d hear the car.” He offers, it’s flimsy but you’re willing to hang on to anything that would allow his hand to travel further up your leg, closer to where you need him. 

You murmur a quiet ‘okay’ and the moment it leaves your lips it’s replaced by the older man’s tongue, his body coming easily over yours and taking you away from the heat of the sun. He wants to be patient with you, slow and deliberate but it's hard when your skin is so soft under his fingers and you’re so receptive to the quick progression of this kiss. And it is quick, the way he invades your mouth is rough and dirty, making your back curve off the sunbed into him. 

It’s scary how much you want it, you can’t help it, pulling at his shirt, digging your fingers into his shoulders, spurring him to slide his hand between your legs. The spark is instant, electric pleasure throughout your body, it’s easy for him but your heart is pounding. You melt into it, that perfect way he finds rhythm on your clit, stoking that insatiable pressure in your core. It builds quickly, a slippery flame on a mountain of kindling, leaving you squirming under him as he moves away from your lips and begins sucking a sequence of kisses down your neck. 

The angle of his ministrations change, a finger trailing down through your folds and resting firmly on your entrance. You jolt, a short whine escaping your lips. Something close to dread seizes hold of you, you’ve never done that before, never had anyone inside of you and it makes you nervous. Doubly so, when you consider how easy it is for him to have you spiralling. 

“I need to feel how tight you are, lovely.” William speaks against your skin, causing goosebumps to prickle across your body, “You gonna let me?” He’s asking but teasing your hole already, your wet heat is just begging for him to slip inside, you know it, he knows it, and so despite the nerves you nod, rolling your hips slightly and resuming his stimulation on your clit yourself. 

He’s nice enough to press a single finger in first, slowly at that, letting you adjust to the feeling and waiting until your body relaxes a little before he moves. It’s nothing, but the way you’re clinging on to him says otherwise, scared but not willing to let go of your end that’s still rearing despite the intrusion. 

“Such a sweet thing.” He coos besides your ear, distracting you from the second long finger which joins in. It doesn’t hurt but it’s strange and you can’t help but gasp. His name flees your lips in a desperate way and he hums an answer against your skin, not that you had a question to begin with. You just can’t think straight, not with the pace of pushing his digits in and out and the rhythm on your nerves that has your climax tightening its fist around you immediately. 

You lose control, shuddering as you cum, the new sensation of having something to clench around making a moan tear through you. It’s hot the way you’re so desperate for him, the most basic of things making you lose your mind, and William tries not to think about how perfect that little cunt is going to feel around his cock, squeezing around him like you are his fingers right now. Eager. Pliant. Fragile.

William pulls out of you and as you begin to regain your senses you realise that you hate how pathetic you are. Only taking because you don’t have the agency to give anything yourself, it’s embarrassing. You want, need to make him feel good. 

“I- I want…” You try to speak coherently, but it's a struggle you’re still reeling from your climax, lost in the after waves mulling over you, making your pussy clamp around nothing, impatient with the urge to feel his fingers again, maybe more. He completely scrambles your brain every time and it’s not fair because you can’t seem to do the same, but you want to try. The night outside your house springs to mind, he had seemed so addicted then, like he needed your touch to survive, exactly how you feel right now.  

William hums some acknowledgement into the crook of your neck, slick with saliva from his assault there, he doesn’t stop the way you’re squirming has his cock throbbing and he has half a mind to make you cum again for his own gratification. 

You try again, forcing the thought out of you, “I want you in my mouth.” You manage, though it’s quiet and your face burns with the words. He blatantly laughs, partially in surprise, before shifting his frame to look at you. 

“What?” He knows what you said, he just wants to hear it again. 

You keep your eyes away from his, forcing yourself to commit to the idea even when you can’t imagine doing it. “Can I suck your cock?” The second you ask it in that sweet voice of yours he could have bust, so cute, so eager to please. 

“Course you fucking can.” There’s a hint of disbelief to his voice that you pride yourself on, you want to be able to surprise him , even though it scares you a little. William moves, standing up, leaving you to sit on the sunbed at the perfect height to be confronted by the arrogant bulge in his trousers. His cock is weeping, desperately hard in that way that you always manage to make him, intentionally or not. Your lip is between your teeth as you watch him reach for his belt, a pang ringing through your core when you think about how big his hands are and what they were doing to you moments ago.

He frees himself, stroking his dick at the sight of you and your obvious nerves. “You know what you’re doing, sweet girl?” He asks you with a wicked grin, god something about you just looking at his cock drives him fucking mad. 

“Not really.” You say shakily, resenting the need to be honest. 

He chuckles again, your innocence amuses him, “Come here.” 

You obey, sitting forward and lifting your hands to take a hold of his cock, it gives you a thrill to touch him, to hear his breath change at your action. So you stroke him eagerly until you have the courage to bring your head closer, his hand instantly cupping the back of your head. He guides your lips to his cockhead, sniggering as he taps his tip against your mouth, some of his precum coating your chin. 

You take the initiative to open your mouth and hesitantly stick out your tongue to taste him. It surprises you that it’s not unpleasant and so you settle into it, swirling your tongue around him before parting your lips enough to take his tip, lightly sucking on him. 

He groans, “That’s it, baby. Use your hands.” You obey, resuming stroking him whilst toying with the most sensitive part of his cock. He knows you’re not trying to tease him but fuck, his knuckles are white at the back of your head with the effort not to bury himself down your throat and use you like the little doll you are. 

The grip in your hair hurts a fair bit but it has you tingling and spurs you to try harder, hollowing your cheeks as you attempt to take more of him, you only half succeed, unable to cope when his cock digs into the back of your throat. He moans when your throat spasms around him, the fluttering making his need to cum very apparent. 

William begins to guide your movements a little, battling with the selfish need to fuck to completion and you whine unintelligible protest. It’s a lot to get used to and your panicked eyes say it all when you glance up at him. 

“Fuck.” He hisses when he meets your gaze, his voice hoarse with arousal, “You can do it. Just like that- gonna make me fucking-” You recognise the inability to get out a complete sentence and your pride makes the tears in your eyes worth it. Your thoughts are lewd, you want him to cum, want it in your mouth, you want to taste it. Want to swallow it because you know it’ll please him. 

But it’s cut short at the crisp sound of a car door slamming shut. The hawk like turn of William’s head confirms it, your dad is back, that absolute piece of fuckin- He lets go of you, rushing to right himself as you did the same, moving swiftly across the garden to grab the towel you left by the door. 

You sit back on your sunbed, praying that you don’t look as shattered as William, who’s left high and dry, forced to leave his shirt untucked with the meagre hope that it’ll obscure his raging erection. 

“Fucking hell.” He curses under his breath. He’d laugh if his cock wasn’t throbbing. 

“I’m sorry.” You say quietly, the sound of the front door closing cutting through the empty house. Clearly you dad wanted to be heard, whereas William previously hadn’t. 

“It’s not your fault.” He smirks a little, thinking about how pathetic this situation is. He takes a seat beside you, leaving the respectable amount of distance a middle-aged man should leave his friend’s daughter, whilst trying to think of an explanation for his presence here. 

Your father wastes no time in moving through the house looking for you, his calling yielded no response so he heads to the back garden. Emerging from the door, already speaking, “Hey, y/n. I’m back from- William? Didn’t expect to see you here…” The confusion in your dad’s voice is evident, he’s smiling but his eyes are narrow as he assesses the sight before him. 

You smile at your dad as best you can, glancing at William when he starts speaking, a crack in his confidence that you hope only you notice. “Chris. I was just after dropping off the socket wrench you leant me, I left it in the kitchen.” 

Your dad turns to look back towards the house and you jump in, an idea of an excuse coming to mind. “I was telling him about my book,” Suddenly you’re holding it, as if you were all along and William grins, what a good girl you are. “It’s getting really good, I was probably talking his ear off.” You cross your fingers that your sweet demeanour is enough to settle your dad’s obliviousness.

“No, it does sound good. I’ll have to borrow it.” He manages to deliver it in such a way that it sounds like he’s humouring you, being polite to a young lass’s rambling, it’s sold and your dad bought it. 

“Oh right.” Your dad agrees, smiling at his good daughter who’s so well-mannered and respectful to everyone, he’s proud of you. But so is William. “You want to stay for a cuppa?” He asks his friend and William grins at the fact that your dad isn’t the only mug in the house. 

“Yeah, that’d be nice.” 

He nods, turning to you, “Want one, sweetie?” 

“Uh yes, please.” With a word of understanding, your father heads back in the house to sort the tea out, the very moment his back is turned William leans close to you. 

“Aren’t you a good liar?” He chuckles his voice playfully dark, you smile but look down. You never used to be a good liar, that must be something this has cultivated. That he has cultivated. Still close to you, William speaks low and full of twisted intention, “Finish it, sweetheart.” 

You look at him confused but it quickly dawns on you what he means. “Don’t be crazy, my dad is-” 

He cuts off your sensible reasoning, with some of his own, “It won’t take long. Just with your hand, come on.” There’s an immature glee in his eyes as he takes your hand and quickly undoes his belt with the other, you don’t resist, in fact you’re brimming with excitement. This is so stupid, so dangerous, there’s no lying your way out of your hand in his trousers, maybe that’s what makes it sweeter when he places your hand on his cock. 

You stroke him quickly, your head is on a swivel between the mouth-watering sight of William tilting his head back in pleasure and the door where you’re willing your dad not to appear. There’s no finesse in it, it’s almost frantic, your hand sliding up and down his cock at a fast pace, trying to push him over the edge as quickly as possible. He’s close, all this fucking around has him begging to finish, its almost unpleasant how much he needs to cum and it shows in the near scowl on his face as you get him closer and closer. 

“Shit.” He curses, and you catch the tensing of his body as he finally touches his peak, ridgid as he can’t help but meet your fist as he cums. He spills in your hand, it’s ill thought out some of his release lands in the grass at his feet, but most on himself or trickling down the back of your hand onto the sunbed beneath. Messy and desperate, but he hardly notices through the overwhelming relief. 

You breathe out loudly, realising that you’ve been holding your breath for a fair while in anticipation, you’re almost giddy with excitement. He seems to finally notice the mess because he laughs, reaching for the towel around your body and using a corner of it to try to clean up. It looks pretty fucking bad, but it’ll have to surfice. 

You wait nervously for him to be done so you can also use it to wipe your hands, he recognises what you’re wanting to do but he has a different idea. He snatches your wrist and brings it to his mouth in a pretty startling way, he’s strong enough that you have no say in the matter, and can only watch as he licks his own release off the back of your hand. He sniggers into the action at the look on your face, near horrified, so sexually inept. It makes him want to do the most depraved things just to see that wide-eyed look. It’s gross, you think, to taste himself on your fingers like that, screwed up even, but you can’t deny the way you’re squirming, rubbing your legs together just to feel a sliver of stimulation. 

He’s well on his way to ruining you. 

pt.5 - here

[eat-limes-bitches]

Love After War

PAIRING: Female Reader x FATWS! Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY: The mind has a way of playing tricks on you, images you thought to be real are just a figment of your past. But how to get back to the present?

WARNINGS: Angst, nightmares, PTSD, panic attack, cannon-level violence, torture, smidgen of fluff at the end

Word Count: 1239

A/N: soooooo this was supposed to be the start of my Febuwhump challenge but with the way my life is going right now I won't be able to finish all the prompts by the end of the month, BUT I will post the ones I have done, and I will keep working on some prompts as well but don't expect them to be in order at all.

Prompt: Helpless

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

The first thing Bucky realized as he came to was how incredibly cold he was. A shiver wracked his body, causing him to try and pull the flimsy material covering him closer to his skin as water poured down on him. Wait- water? He looked to find the source and realized he was in a shower. The cold water turned red as it ran across his body from all the blood there. Was it his or someone else's? Bucky couldn’t tell. 

“SOLDAT.” A voice boomed from behind, causing him to flinch aggressively. He knew that voice, it was one of his handlers, and by the sound of the rapidly approaching footsteps, he wasn’t happy.

“Poydem s nami, soldat. Dok khochet tebya videt'” The voice growled and Bucky froze. 

His frazzled mind still trying to work out where he was and what was going on. His hesitance must have been seen as resistance because the next thing he knew, a rifle butt was flying towards him. 

Confused, Bucky blocked it with his arm, the clash of metal reverberated around the room causing more handlers to pour in, each one with a gun all pointing in the same direction. His pulse was starting to quicken, and every muscle in his body tensed. 

He was so focused on what was going on in front of him that he didn’t notice the guard coming up behind him with a stun baton. The guard struck, causing Bucky to fall to his knees as he hissed in pain, the electric shock causing his arm to fall limp at his side he clutched the useless appendage in his right hand as he looked on in terror as they all started moving in on him. Two of the guards grabbed him and began to drag him out of the room. He knew where they were taking him and as those rusted double doors came into view he began thrashing as wildly as he could to get away but it was no use.

“Bucky?”

They flung open the doors, his senses on hyperdrive as the blinding lights of the room burned his eyes. Noise. There was so much noise, nurses scrambling around, guards shouting, and doctors preparing for whatever horrible things they had planned for him that day. 

“Bucky!”

He tried to fight against them as they strapped him into the chair, but it was no use, he felt utterly helpless as they began tying him down. His metal arm, although useless, was cuffed in 4 different steel brackets to keep him from moving, the rest of his body bolted into place as the panels of the machine began to lower over his face and just as they were about to connect to his skin-

“JAMES!” 

He sucked in a large breath bolting upright in bed and scrambling far away from where he was until he managed to situate himself in the corner of the room. His chest, slick with sweat heaved up and down as he tried to get oxygen to fill his lungs, but his heart was beating too fast for him to do anything but hyperventilate. There was a quiet sound from the other side of the room that made him realize he wasn’t alone, and he let out a whimper as their footsteps got closer, curling in on himself to appear as small as possible. 

“Bucky?” This voice was soft and full of concern, a complete contrast to the voice he heard just moments ago. This intrigued him slightly, but not enough to make him uncurl himself to see who was speaking to him. There was a sigh from the other person and the floorboards squeaked as they moved their entire weight to the floor, sitting on the ground near him.

“Bucky? It’s me, baby.” The voice cooed gently, and with the next breath he took, the familiar smell of cedar and lavender invaded his senses. He peaked his head out from behind his knees and saw Y/n sitting on the floor looking at him with concern coloring her features and sorrow clouding her eyes. She noticed the small movement and smiled gently as her eyes caught his.

“There he is. Hello, my love.” She whispered, a gentle smile decorating her face. Bucky blinked owlishly at her, still not realizing who he was looking at, but still Y/n smiled. 

Progress she thought before she started speaking again, “It’s just me, love. You are safe. We are in our bedroom, in our apartment, no one is going to hurt you.” 

This made him cock his head to the side before looking around the room. There was no one else besides the two of them. Instead of the gurneys, there was a dresser. Instead of blood-stained floors, there was a soft, grey plush carpet. Instead of that chair, there was a bed, and her. Bucky took a deep breath, finally able to fill his lungs and when he did, his body began to shake. He would shake violently for a moment before his muscles would give out and relax before contracting all over again. Y/n watched him carefully and scooted a little closer. 

“Can I sit next to you?” It was a simple question, and it might seem trivial to ask someone you were just sleeping next to if you could be in their space but it was important for Bucky to feel in control of his situation, if he was in control, he was no longer there.  Bucky looked at her and gave a small nod and Y/n moved to sit next to him, her back plastered against the wall. Although she wasn’t touching him, Bucky could feel the warmth radiation from her body, another piece of proof that he wasn’t in the basement of a bunker in the Siberian mountains. The pair sat in silence for a moment, Y/n watching Bucky, and Bucky staring straight ahead at the wall. Y/n shifted, causing Bucky's eyes to leave the spot on the wall and look at her. 

“Can I touch you?” She asked softly. Buckys hesitated for a moment, before nodding again. Y/n scootched closer to Bucky so that their bodies were pressed against each other and she reached over with a hand and ran her fingers through his shortened chestnut locks. That simple action seemed to bring new life back to Bucky and he began to uncurl, leaning into her touch. Y/n began humming a soft melody as she continued to massage Bucky’s scalp. His tremors became less and less until they were all but gone. 

After some more time passed, Bucky wasn’t sure how much, Y/n stopped and gently stood up, offering her hand to him. 

“‘C'mon love, let’s get back in bed. Your back isn’t going to thank you if I let you sleep in the corner.” 

Bucky placed his hand in hers and allowed her to lead him back to bed. Y/n folded back the covers in a more orderly fashion before sliding under the soft grey sheets, motioning for Bucky to do the same. He did so, snuggling back into Y/n’s side listening to her steady heartbeat, reassuring him that he was safe.  She began humming that soft melody again. Feeling warm and safe, his eyes grew heavy and he fell into a dreamless sleep. The last thing he remembered was the whisper of an “I love you,” in his ear.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 9

And here we are at the end of the story. There is one more story left to be told. And that's "The Rise of The Fallen" which is scheduled to come out on Sunday. Then the second and final part will come out on Tuesday.

In this one, we get the reactions from Steve's other friends and Murray appears for a final fuck you to Nancy. With another sweet cameo from Vickie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

~

They made their merry way through Europe, Murray keeping his eagle-eye out for fans and paparazzi alike, all while Steve took pictures of Eddie different outfits. His personal favorite was of Eddie standing next a group of Corroded Coffin fans at ‘The Shining” motel in Germany.

His hair was tucked up under a hat and he wore a baggy jeans and wore a fuzzy blue-grey sweater. He still had his scruff and the sunglasses almost made him look more like Johnny Depp, then Eddie Munson.

Eddie was sure to steer clear of blacks and leathers and to keep his hair out of his face. He even wore a bright orange wig in Romania and Vlad the Impaler’s real castle and not the one Hollywood used for their movies.

Everyone agreed he looked dreadful in the wig, but they couldn’t deny the damn thing’s effectiveness.

They parted with Murray in Greece. He had found a lovely little cottage to settled down in and so they bid their travel partner farewell.

There in while they were viewing the Hagia Sophia in Turkiye because Chrissy expressed an interest, they met Gareth and Shane.

“Eddie!” Gareth cried and ran into his arms for a big hug.

Robin and Steve were treated to the same bear hug from Shane. Steve held Shane at arms length and smiled. His twin looked good. There was a sparkle to his eyes that had been missing on the tour.

“You look great!” he enthused to Shane’s bemusement.

“Don’t I always?” Shane teased.

Steve laughed. “Of course you do, but you look...”

“Healthy,” Robin supplied.

Then Shane truly blushed. “Thanks. Someone suggested that maybe Muslim countries might be the way to go to avoid certain vices...”

“And how is that working out for you?” Steve asked with a smile.

“Good,” Shane said, “great even.”

They decided to tour the rest of Istanbul together. Just taking in all the beautiful sites.

Steve led Shane away from the group as they were saying their goodbyes.

“What’s on your mind, twin?” Shane asked, leaning up against the railing that looked out into the city.

“Eddie asked me to marry him.” Steve fiddled with the necklace as he spoke.

Shane gently took it from his nervous fingers and smiled. “What’s the charm on his necklace, then?”

“Wings.”

Shane’s smile widened. “Because of course it is. He’s going take good care of you, you know?”

Steve blushed and nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Shane said with a soft smile. “Now tell me all about how he proposed.”

So he did. He launched into the whole story, including the mess in Venice.

“Nice to see he isn’t Mr. Perfect,” Shane said with a huff of laughter. “But good on him realizing he done fucked up, though.”

“Yeaaahhh,” Steve said with wry smile.

They walked back to the others and Eddie looked up at Steve and smiled. Steve smiled back.

~

Their tour through Asia saw them seeing haunted forests and beautiful tombs. They saw the Terracotta warriors and the Great Wall of China, Himeji Castle and Aokigahara in Japan, the Chaukhadi Tombs in Pakistan. Finally they arrived in beautiful India.

They stood in front of the one of the most well known tombs in the world. The Taj Mahal. It was even more beautiful in person than it was in pictures.

Eddie turned to Steve. “When I die are you going to build me as beautiful a tomb as this?”

“Yeah, babe,” Steve said, pulling him close. “Everyone will know the resting place of Eddie Munson, rockstar and best boyfriend in the world.”

Eddie blushed and ducked his head, his hair tucked away as had become the norm on this trip. “Shucks, Stevie. I thought you were going to say no.”

Steve laughed, giddy. “Never. Maybe we should start building it now, like the pyramids in Egypt so you can be interred with your guitar collection.”

Eddie’s went wide. “You do love me!” He wrapped his arms around Steve and kissed him soundly.

“The things they allow in public these days,” huffed a fond female voice behind them.

The four of them turned to see Nadia, Spence and a couple of well dressed young men that must have been Nadia’s brothers.

“Nadia! Spence!” Robin squealed and ran over to give them huge hugs. She even included the brothers in her enthusiastic greetings.

“These are my brothers, Indra and Jai,” Nadia said introducing them. “This is Spence’s friend, Steve, his boyfriend Eddie and Chrissy and Robin also Steve and Eddie’s friends.”

They all greeted each other.

“You know,” Eddie said with a huff of laughter. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say Stevie’s friends were social media stalking us as we’ve met up with everyone at this point.”

“You saw Simon and Shane, too?” Spence asked, tilting his head to the side. “I knew you guys were traveling the world, but Italy and Turkiye, as well?”

“We’ve been having a blast!” Robin said throwing her arms out. “Chrissy and I are heading back to the States after India, but Steve and Eddie are going to continue with Australia, some Africa and a couple places in South America before coming home to California.”

Spence bit his lip. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He waved vaguely at Eddie.

Eddie grinned. “We’ve been taking the proper precautions and we wanted to extend our trip out a little bit more.”

Spence looked to Steve who nodded.

“Well,” Nadia said with her own huff of laughter. “If the biggest thing that happened was Boston and that was almost two months ago and you haven’t been spotted since, I think they’ll be just fine.”

Spence looked down at her with a broad grin. “You’re right.”

“You best get used to that,” the younger of the two boys, Jai said, “she is always right. Even our mom agrees with her most of the time.”

“It’s frightening,” Indra said, with a nod.

Nadia just smiled up at Spence with find amusement.

“Yup!” Spence said, pressing his lips together. “Learning that lesson fast.”

Steve let out a laugh and soon everyone had joined in.

~

They toured India a little more with suggestions from Indra who was also a spooky fan and then they moved on.

Everywhere they went, Eddie had tried on a different look. Often blending in with the locals. There were exotic locales and spooky hotels. And in each place, Steve took a picture of Eddie incognito.

Steve laughed more in those four months then he had since he started being Abbadon in The Fallen.

Eddie was right, being a normal guy had its perks and getting to spend that with Eddie? Really made it all worth it.

Far too soon they were lifting off the runway in Mexico City on their way back to their lives.

“Well, Stevie,” Eddie said with a smile, “you ready to go back home?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I loved traveling the world. Especially with Chrissy and Robin. Seeing the guys doing so well. It really made it all worth while. But I want to sleep in my bed. I want to start writing again. I really didn’t that much while we were traveling. I learned so much out here about me, I almost can’t wait to be Abbadon again.”

“I learned a lot about me, too,” Eddie agreed. “I’ve rarely had a chance to be myself in the last ten years that I almost forgot where I came from. I’m not the leather and chains. I’m not the heavy metal rockstar. I’m just a poor schmuck from Hawkins, Indiana who got so fucking lucky.”

“You think you’re next album is going to reflect that?” Steve asked as he rummaged in his backpack for his book.

“Probably,” Eddie huffed in amusement. “After the third solely dedicated to you.”

“Only a third?” he teased. “Dustin was sure it was half.”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. “Why do we tell that butthead anything?”

“I figure it’s that open and round face of his,” Steve groused. “It just screams ‘trust me’.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, that tracks.”

~

Steve’s first stop after getting off the plane was straight to Vickie’s office. He needed to clear something with her before he went nuclear.

Vickie raised her head and smiled when Steve knocked on her door.

“Nichole said it was okay to just come in,” he said with a smile.

“And Nichole would be correct,” she said indicating the chairs in front of her, “have a seat. Tell me all about your lovely vacation. Thank you for sending me pictures by the way, it helped me and my team keep up on all the goings on and keep fan reactions to a minimum.”

“You’re welcome!” Steve said brightly, closing the door behind him. “So this is about the pictures, actually.”

“Oh?” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Do tell.”

So Steve did.

At the end of his explanation and question Vickie grinned. “I think that’s a beautiful way to do it. I’ll make sure she’s served before you send out the message and you’re all good to go.”

“I have an idea on who should serve her, too,” he said, grinning back at her.

“If you’re thinking of who I’m thinking of,” she said slyly, “then it’ll be perfect.”

Steve just smiled.

~

There was a knock on the door and Nancy went up to get it. She had just finished applying for schools to change her career from being an agent to a journalist. The thought of really getting to the heart of a story like she had on the school newspaper all those years ago, really lit something in her.

She opened the door and there was a short man with thick, wire glasses and a sneering grin.

“Wait, you’re Murray Bauman, right?” she asked. “Had I know you were coming I would have opened a bottle of wine to commiserate with. Both of us having been discarded like trash when Corroded Coffin was done with us.”

Murray shrugged. “It was time. I needed the push to retire. Got myself a lovely little cottage in Greece now.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Then why are you here?”

“This!” He handed her a large manilla envelope and waved goodbye.

Inside was a cease and desist as well as a notification that she may have violated an NDA.

“Shit.”

There was another paper in the envelope and when she pulled it out, her heart sank. She slumped against the wall and let the picture fall to the floor. It was a picture of the London Eye in the background with Chrissy and Robin on one side and Steve and Eddie on the other and in the middle smiling up at the camera, clearly taken by someone else, was Murray Bauman.

~

Steve and Eddie were snuggled up on Steve’s bed, Eddie curled around Steve.

Steve hit send and put the phone down to wrap his arms around Eddie. “There. All posted across all social media. I’ve put us both on mute and Vickie is going to handle the next forty-eight hours.”

“I wish I could have seen her face when she saw the picture,” Eddie huffed with a grin.

“Me, too.”

Steve’s phone lit up once to confirm the post of: “Traveling with a rockstar is like playing hide and seek with fans. How many of you saw him but didn’t realize you were standing next to Eddie Munson?! Also, to the 'fan' who outed us in Boston, we know who you are and an NDA maaaayyyy have been violated. You'll speak to our lawyers soon! “

Eddie and Steve soon drifted off to sleep, content with their lives.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

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