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mister0ctopus · 5 months ago

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Server Room (2)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Tension, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Claustrophobia

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: i initially wanted this chapter to be a little spicy, but the waves of missing bangtan kept crashing over me as i was writing it... and i couldn’t help but be a softie. 😩 nevertheless, hope you all still enjoy this chapter. please let me know what you think. thanks for being here. thanks for reading, love you all <3😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

You’re a rockstar.

You know it.

You’re commanding the room.

Your high-waisted skirt hugs your curves flawlessly, paired with a crisp white button-up and a belt to accentuate your silhouette.

You stepped into your killer stiletto heels, the ones that always make you feel powerful.

And like the rockstar you are, you breezed through your presentation with ease—after all, you’d poured days of hard work into it, and it showed. Jungkook's tweaks made a huge difference, and despite everything that happened yesterday, you’re incredibly grateful for his help.

The praise from your manager and colleagues felt like the cherry on top of a grueling quarter, and you couldn’t help but bask in a well-earned wave of pride.

After all, being in Sales is not for the faint of heart. It is a demanding job that requires sheer will and resilience.

But you're grateful to have met genuine friends at work.

The kind that makes work feel like less work.

Hanging out with them—whether it's sneaky breaks during the day or wild post-work dinners and drinks—is something you seriously look forward to. You get the juiciest gossip and fresh perspectives from every corner of the office.

“YN! Congrats on the presentation! As expected of you. You did great, babes!” Jimin cheers as he wraps you in one of his signature tight hugs, while you're making coffee in the pantry. He’s a hugger—you figured that out pretty quickly. Jimin was introduced to you by Yoongi, who you were friends with long before joining this company, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

"Thanks, Jiminie. Ugh, I almost didn’t make it today. My laptop broke down yesterday and I seriously thought I lost everything. IT totally saved me, though." You said, still feeling the stress of it all.

"Whoa, jeez... So, you met the new IT guy, Jungkook? Yoongi introduced him to us last week, I think? Said he's a friend of a friend..." He trails off, eyes following a pretty intern passing by you.

You followed his gaze, then quickly turned back to him. "Wait, he was Yoongi's friend? No, I hadn't seen him until yesterday..."

His face flashes in your mind again, and you feel a flare in your chest, and your core...

But the inked arm, the lip ring... his moans when he was—

"—coming?" Jimin interrupts, eyes narrowed, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Wha—huh?” you blink.

"I said, are you coming? Later? Dino's? Let’s celebrate that killer presentation!" Jimin grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh! Yeah... Yeah, of course!" you laughed, a little too nervously.

"You good? You look a little bothered," he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Yeah! I’m fine. Just remembered something I need to wrap up today," you lied.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. See you at Dino's after 5!" He winked and flashed a final grin before his Chelsea boots clicked down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You head back to your desk, trying to distract yourself with some admin work as the hours drag on. You make a conscious effort to avoid the IT room, which is easy enough since it’s tucked away at the far corner of the floor.

But your thoughts keep drifting back to the server room...

By the time the clock hits 5, you're more than ready to bolt. Bag slung over your shoulder, makeup refreshed, and a swipe of some cherry red lipstick —and you’re all set to end this interesting week.

Dino’s is the usual spot for your crew. Just a few blocks from the office, it's hosted everything from Yoongi’s promotion to Jimin finally getting his PTO approved (his boss is an ass).

You walk into the bar and spot Allie right away, waving you over with that big, excited grin of hers. You head over to their table, and give her a peck on the cheek.

“Hey girl! I heard you slayed that presentation! Congrats!!!” she says, her voice all sweet and perky, like cotton candy and sunshine.

"Thanks! I really prepared for it," you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"Yeah, Jimin told me! Remember what the guy from Marketing called you? The one who tried to flirt with you while obviously married? Anyway—he called you an office vixen with brains and a nice ass. Remember? I totally agree with the guy. 100%," she recalled, laughing.

You love her.

While Yoongi is like rain at night—a brooding but steady force, someone who hangs back like training wheels on a bike. He never judges, but you still tread carefully. A man of few words, but a volume of presence… a warm cup of coffee, and sound advice—

Allie and Jimin are like the sun after the rain—radiant, gentle, and warm. You’ve always admired that about them. They draw people in, like moths to a flame. Their smiles always radiate a comforting energy that makes everyone feel seen.

“So, Yoongi’s out until next week...” Jimin said, scanning the group and doing a quick headcount. “Allie and YN are here. Tae’s coming in a bit...”

Now, Taehyung… is like sunset. There’s ember in his eyes, golden sparks, a warmth that lingers long after the light fades. In those eyes, there’s another universe you can only wish to be part of, a universe no one fully grasps, yet everything he does feels strangely familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing. Like watching a VHS tape of your childhood.

You love them. You adore them.

“He said he’s with some guys from his department” Jimin's still on his phone, probably texting Taehyung. “… Jungkook's with them too."

You froze for a moment, your dreamy gaze at your friends quickly replaced by uneasiness.

You love them. You adore them.

It was the kind of moment that made you want to break the fourth wall, shooting a knowing look to some imaginary audience as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”, like you were in a sitcom or some made-up character.

Which, of course, you’re not.

But the thought of Jungkook coming... to this bar, was making you nervous. Your mind kept circling around the word coming, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to kick yourself for being ridiculously stupid and childish right now.

You’re not sure how to face him. You’re just glad he didn’t catch you in the server room. That would’ve been awkward, right? What would you even say to him? Like “Hey? Nice dick? Need a hand? Or rather… another hand?”

And that you still don’t know what you feel. Flattered? But also creeped out? But also turned on?

That you came so hard moaning his name last night?

Because goddamn...

Your face flushes, and you can feel the warmth in places it definitely shouldn’t be, so you force yourself to pull it together before anyone notices.

Just as you think you’ve regained control, he walks in.

Jungkook.

In black long sleeves, a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and dark pants held by a belt, perfectly showcasing his waist.

How does this guy have the face of an angel and the body of a devil? You don’t understand.

You take a deep breath, forcing your thoughts to calm as Taehyung greets you with a quick but tight hug. His other friends follow, entering with happy smiles, high fives, and loud greetings. As everyone settles in, Jungkook casually slides into the seat in front of you. And for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Or how to act. Because what the fuck?

“Hey,” he said, not meeting your eyes, his focus fixed on the menu he was absently flipping through.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice awkward and unsure. You tried to mask it, but the effort only made it sound even more awkward.

“Didn’t know you’d be here. Thought it was just Tae and some guys…”

“Yeah, um, Tae and the group—we come here often,” you say, your voice weak and almost whispery.

But why are you whispering?

No way were you letting him have this kind of effect on you—not when you were rocking your killer stilettos. You, cowering for a guy? Please. Sure, you saw what he did. Sure, you felt what you felt. And so what? Big deal.

You tried to regain confidence. You straightened your back.

You shoved the lingering dirty thoughts aside, reminding yourself you had something important to say.

“Hey, I know I already thanked you, but really—thank you for helping me yesterday. What you did saved me so much time, and honestly, it made my presentation a lot better. So, thanks.” Your tone was genuine, your words earnest.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips, revealing a small dimple that you definitely didn’t need to notice right now.

“No worries, glad I could help,” he replied casually, wiping the condensation from his beer glass with a napkin, then meticulously drying the table around it. For someone so effortlessly attractive, he was almost annoyingly neat.

The night deepened, and like a typical Friday night, the bar was packed. Everyone seemed tipsy now.

The group was a chaotic mess. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing loudly enough to drown out the bar’s music. Gossip, banter, and office inside jokes flowed just as freely as the drinks. You noticed Jungkook, just as engaged in the conversation, chiming in with playful jabs and high-fives every now and then.

You lost it when Taehyung stood up, dragging a protesting Jimin toward the dance floor. Jimin half-heartedly tried to resist, but it was clear the drinks were starting to work their magic on both of them.

"I don’t dance, leave me alone!" Jimin said, shoving Taehyung.

"I had a dream that in your past life, you were a popular dancer," Taehyung laughed, only to wince as Jimin pinched him.

Just as you were enjoying the chaos the two were causing, a glass of beer tipped over, spilling its contents all over your white blouse. The cold liquid seeping into the thin fabric and drenching your chest.

Taehyung and Jimin, completely oblivious to the whole incident, were now laughing and stumbling their way onto the dance floor, joining the chaotic mass of bodies in the center.

Startled, you glanced down, inspecting the damage as you saw Allie scramble around, searching for something to help with the mess.

But Jungkook was quick to react, handing you a stack of tissues.

“Here,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grabbing the napkins and frantically dabbing at your blouse. It was no use. The thin fabric clung to your skin, and despite the dim lights, the outline of your black lace bra was now clearly visible.

You didn’t see Jungkook swallow hard as he quickly averted his gaze to the crowd, but he felt his pants tighten, forcing him to adjust in his seat.

You stood up as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Time to salvage what you could of your outfit. And your dignity.

You stayed in the bathroom, drying your blouse with the hand dryer, the hum of the machine filling the tiny space against the loud music outside. As you stand there, your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. Your eyeliner's a little smudged, your hair's a bit messy, in a kind of way that you like.

Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook, and how he carries himself within the group. So effortlessly cool and funny. You notice he wasn’t shy, like what you initially though he was. It’s still kinda awkward to look at him without flashes of him in the server room popping into your mind, but you’ve noticed he tends to avoid your gaze.

It’s strange though, because he’s not like that with anyone else.

After a few minutes, when your shirt feels dry enough, you step out of the bathroom, making your way back to your table.

But as soon as you take a few steps, a group of obviously drunk people shoving each other stumbles into you... and suddenly you're caught in the middle of their wild commotion. You try to make your way through, but the noise and the chaos are overwhelming, and you're shoved in every direction, feeling dizzy and helpless as you're swept along by the force of their movements.

Panic claws at your chest.

And breathing feels suddenly harder.

Just as you feel your knees begin to buckle, firm, strong hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. In one smooth motion, the man pulls you closer, his body a solid wall, caging you against the chaos around you. You glance up, the first thing your eyes catching is the lip ring glinting in the dim light, and then you realize—he’s taller than you, even with your heels.

What… Why is Jungkook here?

You feel his body jerk with every forceful bump from the crowd, each time pulling you closer to his chest. His jaw clenches with every impact, and you feel his grip on you tightens in response.

Suddenly, you feel him guide you away from the crowd. He struggles for a moment as he pushes through, but his strength is undeniable. Before you know it, he's gently steering you to a quieter corner of the bar, where there’s more space and the air feels easier to breathe again.

You close your eyes, trying to regain your breath and balance.

"You okay?" His voice is gentle but firm. He’s waiting for an answer.

You nod, eyes still shut, but words are stuck in your throat.

You hate tight, enclosed spaces, and you know things could’ve turned dangerous if Jungkook hadn’t intervened in time. A pang of gratitude tugs at your chest again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the ringing in your ears won’t stop, and your lips and fingers feel numb. The air feels so thick, refusing to fill your lungs properly, and everything around you seemstocloseinmakingithardertobreathe.

“Hey, what do you need?” He stares at you with concern, his gaze steady and unwavering. His hands rest gently on your shoulders, his presence calm as he silently waits for you to respond.

The noise grows louder, it's suffocating, overwhelming. You can’t breathe.

Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid gasps.

Without a word, Jungkook caged your frame with his arms, weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

Air.

Space.

The moment you step outside, you hear him say, "Breathe, YN. You're okay," over and over as you manage to let more air into your lungs.

The space feels infinite, and slowly, you finally breathe freely again.

Jungkook sat silently with you in his car, the windows rolled down, letting in the cool night air.

The parking lot was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside the bar. The car felt like a fortress, a safe space, away from the overwhelming noise and suffocating crowd you’d just escaped.

You stayed silent, focusing on steadying yourself, grounding your thoughts with the breathing exercises you’d practiced and used countless times before.

He remained quiet, only glancing at you now and then. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed—peace, space, calm.

After a few moments, when you finally felt like you could breathe again, you let out a soft sigh and turned to him. “You saved me again.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sparing you a brief glance, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s the second time you saved my life,” you said, a light smile tugging at your lips.

“Hmmm,” Jungkook hummed again, this time without even glancing at you. His focus remained straight ahead, though there was a softness in his expression.

“Are you always this quiet?” you asked, a playful smile creeping onto your face.

“Hmmm,” he repeated, but this time, his lips quirked into a subtle smile that revealed those tiny dimples on his cheeks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you feel a jittery sensation in your stomach. You quickly looked away.

Shut up, you thought to yourself. Shut the front door, lock it, throw away the key, and set the whole house on fire.

“Well, thank you. Again,” you said with a soft laugh. Then, in a quieter tone, you admitted, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten to me on time.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with concern. “Does this happen to you often? You know, attacks?”

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly. “In the past... but it’s gotten better. I haven’t had an attack in a year, but... I guess what happened earlier was just too much.”

“I see…” he replied quietly, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, finally feeling yourself relax a little more. “I feel better now. And really… thank you. I mean it—I’m truly grateful.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the car and the stillness of the night.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits, and you can’t help but let out a yawn.

“You should rest,” Jungkook says softly. “I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

You glance at him, questioning with your eyes, as if silently asking if he’s okay to drive. He notices and reassures you, “Don’t worry. I only had two bottles, and that was hours ago. I’m good.”

Too drained to argue, you simply nod and accept his offer.

7 missed calls.

18 messages.

You finally checked your phone and quickly called your friends back, explaining what had happened and assuring them Jungkook was kind enough to drive you home.

“Here, Taehyung wants to talk to you,” you said, handing the phone to Jungkook.

He took it without hesitation, his expression calm as he listened. “Mm,” he nodded a few times, offering short, clipped answers before handing the phone back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung asked for the third time, his voice laced with concern. In the background, you could hear Allie and Jimin babbling on the phone, their words slurring and pointless, as they were clearly drunk.

“Yes, Tae, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a small sigh, grateful but slightly exasperated.

After a few more exchanges of "call me when you get home," you finally ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a tired exhale.

You entered your address on an app Jungkook’s phone, your fingers briefly brushing against his as you handed it back to him. For a split second, you felt him stiffen, but he quickly regained composure, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without saying a word.

The drive was quiet, the kind of calm that made you feel sleepier. You stared out the window, the passing buildings turning into light streaks making your eyes heavy.

You were surprised by how comforting Jungkook’s presence was—like yesterday had never happened, but between then and now, so much had occurred, and he felt… strangely familiar.

Jungkook would glance at you every now and then, but the two of you didn’t speak.

The silence spoke words that didn’t need to be said. You basked in the comfort of it throughout the rest of the drive.

The drive felt long, but somehow it went by quickly. Jungkook pulled over with ease, and he glanced at you when you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"Hey, thank you again for tonight— for everything," you say, the hum of the car steady, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nods. Then he meets your eyes. Then he smiles.

You watch the curve of his mouth, your eyes lingering on the silver ring in his lip.

He catches your gaze, then the rest of your face, then your lips.

Your heart beats loudly now, echoing against the steady hum of the car.

And just as you thought your heart was about to leap out of your chest—

"Goodnight," Jungkook says softly, his voice low and steady, his gaze lingering on yours.

For a moment, it feels like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You manage to say "goodnight" in the faintest voice, barely audible.

You step out of the car and make your way quickly to your apartment building. Once you reach your unit and close the door behind you, you hear the soft sound of his car pulling away.

And as you settle into the warmth and comfort of your house, a deep sense of calm settles over you. A wave of déjà vu washes over you, making you pause.

You close your eyes, trying to remember when you’ve felt this way before.

And you can almost feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through you.

Your mind drifts back to the car.

With Jungkook.

🐙 a/n: Hiii!!! Please let me know whatchu think and which part you liked, or did not like lol! I like hearing your thoughts <3 again, thanks for reading and see you in Part 3! Mwaaahh 😘 or if you have kwesjins, letmeknowww!!!

Taglist: @taekritimin123 @vantelover1306 @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @daskewl @almatiarau

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

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tradgedyinwaves · 7 months ago

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First Choice - Part 4

Part Four of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking, more touchy-touchy, reader thinks about sexual acts

In celebration of 200 followers, this part has way more than 650 words. More like 1600. :)

Conversation flowed easily with them despite their sole focus being on you. At some point, Kyle’s hand had drifted onto your thigh, fingers pressing into the flesh gently. John’s arm had slipped from the back of the booth and now rested around your shoulders. You couldn’t be sure, but it seemed Johnny couldn’t keep his feet still and kept tapping yours under the table. The only one who couldn’t seem to relax was Ghost, sitting almost across from you.

His eyes never left you and he mainly seemed to communicate in grunts. At least, he was drinking this time, his glass now empty of his own whiskey. You were careful not to drink too much, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of these beautiful men. But it didn’t keep you from relaxing and feeling the warmth of the two next to you.

Pulling out your phone, you checked the time and groaned. “I really should be going. It’s been great,” you announce, looking to Kyle to move so you could slide out from the booth. “Aw come on. We’re having so much fun. Just a wee longer?” Johnny asks and you turn to him, finding yourself giving in almost immediately. Damn the puppy dog eyes.

“Only a bit longer,” you concede and relax back into the seat. This time when Kyle’s hand lands on your thigh, it’s higher and the heat is searing through your jeans. You let out a soft sound, biting your lip as his hand starts slowly caressing your thigh up and down. He’s not even looking at you when you look up, already deep in conversation with Johnny about some sports game you had no clue about.

John’s arm settled back over your shoulders, pulling you slightly closer so his hand hovers over your breast and you can feel the hair of his arm on your bare collarbone. Your breasts jiggle slightly with your laugh when Johnny makes a joke and you don’t miss the way his pupils dilate ever so slightly before darting back up to your face. He, at least, has the decency to blush, the faint pink color tinging his cheeks.

When the crowd in the bar starts to thin out and you realize even your friends have left for the night, you’re yawning in your seat and now leaned completely against John with his thick arm draped over your shoulders. Kyle’s hand is now tucked between your thick thighs, the side pressed as tightly to your core as he can get it and you hope to whatever higher powers that be that he couldn’t feel the radiating heat or the damp spot that had soaked into your panties.

“Okay, okay. I really do need to go now. My friends aren’t even here anymore and that’s saying something,” you chirp, suddenly very awake and aware that you’re in an almost empty bar with four men you’d only met that night. They all look at you like they’d rather eat sawdust than let you go and you feel a warmth creep over you.

“Ahw, bonnie, we couldn’t let you go home on your own. Let us take you home,” Johnny chimes in, soft smile and kind eyes that hold a hint of something else in them. You swallow, looking between each of them. Your gaze lingers on Ghost for a while, noticing the man’s eyes had almost never left you.

“Yeah, alright. Let’s go. It’s not a far walk,” you reply, biting your lip at the reckless decision. These men could be serial killers and you were just inviting them to know exactly where you live. “Why don’t you let Johnny and Ghost take you home? Kyle and I can follow in our truck so they’re not stuck walking back here,” John offers, a warm smile curling up the thick mustache.

At this point, you’re ready for bed and just want to get home. “Sounds good to me,” you reply though the words are manipulated by a yawn. All of you shuffle out of the round booth, both Kyle and John kissing the top of your head like they’d known you for years before disappearing out the door. You wrap your jacket around you again, pulling the zipper together over your belly and getting a little frustrated when it gets caught up on your shirt.

“Lemme,” Ghost grumbled, stepping up to you and taking hold of the jammed zipper. It’s the first time he’s spoken all night and it almost stuns you how deep and growly it is. Your breath hitches as he grabs the zipper, yanking on it and subsequently making your breasts bounce as he accidentally pushes against them. He gets it undone and you mutter a bashful ‘thanks’ before turning on your heel as you finish zipping it up to your throat.

You know they’re meant to be escorting you home, but you’re out the door so fast the two men have to jog to catch up. Johnny’s arm wraps around your waist, fingers pressing into the pudge of your stomach in a way that makes you want to shrivel up. You don’t like anyone touching your stomach, but you’re warring with yourself on whether or not to move his hand, to show that kind of discomfort in front of these men.

You choose to do so anyway, wrapping your fingers around his and lifting his arm up over your head and ducking under it, dropping it at his side. Johnny looks down at you with a furrowed brow. “Don’ like it when people touch you, do you?” he asks as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He doesn’t look bothered that you’d removed his arm, but your anxiety rears its ugly head and makes you worried you’d offended him.

“It’s not that I don’t like being touched. It-It’s…complicated. I-I don’t want to talk about it,” you manage to stammer out before picking up your speed. It’s not like you’re going to shake off your two guard dogs whose legs are easily longer than yours by several inches, but you take off anyways.

When your building finally comes into view, you slow your pace and breathe a soft sigh of relief. Your bed was so close, just a few more yards and you could get rid of the guard dogs and curl up in bed. “Well, this is me. Thanks for bringing me home. I really appreciate it.” You were grateful that they’d walked you home. It wasn’t safe this time of night to be wandering around in this part of town.

“We’re walking you to your door, bonnie. Wouldn’t want someone to snatch you up between here and there,” Johnny stated, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the scent of him, warm and tingly to the nose like oranges and nutmeg, but you shook your head and backed up to the door of your building. “There’s really no need. My neighbors are great.” Lie. Absolute fucking lie. Nestor at the end of the hall on the first floor would, no questions asked, rip you from the hallway if he saw you alone. A chill went down your spine and you conceded the moment you looked into Ghost’s eyes. You didn’t have a choice if they were escorting you all the way up.

You turned and opened the door to the building, looking down the hall to make sure Nestor was in his apartment before slipping in and letting the boys in behind you. You headed to the elevator and punched the up arrow, biting your lip as you tried not to wither under the intense stare of the man in the mask. The elevator had been the selling point for you. It was the only place within your budget that had an elevator and you weren’t about to walk up five flights of stairs multiple times a day.

The lift dinged and you stepped inside, Ghost and Johnny slipping in behind you just to stand with their bodies pressed against your back. Unintentionally, you leaned into them before your eyes widened at your own movement and you straightened so your body pulled away slightly.

The doors dinged and opened allowing you to step out onto your floor. You headed to your unit, digging for your keys in your purse. With a ‘aha!’, you pulled them out and shoved the key into the doorknob, unlocking it. “Would you guys like to come in? I might have some whiskey left?” you offer, turning to look at them. You didn’t know why you were inviting them in, but the sense of safety you had around them had you desperate for them to stay.

“Sure, lemme text Price and Kyle where to come. Go on in, Si-Ghost. I’ll come in in a minute,” Johnny stated, already pulling his phone out and going to stand next to the window at the end of the hall. You opened the door and allowed Ghost in, leaving it unlocked so the others could join once they arrived.

Heading into your kitchen, you stood up on your tippy toes, reaching up so you could pull out five of your good glasses. You were looking for the last one, but it was just out of your reach. Suddenly, you felt what could only be Ghost against your back, pressing you against the counter as he leaned over you to grab the glass.

The heat of him against your back has your thighs clenching together while you watch his thick digits wrap around the glass and you wonder briefly what they’d feel like inside you. He takes a step back once he has the cup and holds it out to you.

You turn back to him while trying to fight off the blush coloring your cheeks. You murmur a thanks and wrap your own fingers around the glass.

Of course, that would be when the other three burst loudly through the door.

I wasn't intending for this to become a whole story, but it's really stuck with me over the last week or so.

<- Part Three Part Five ->

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meathunt · 2 months ago

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Vampire dads idea :>

TW Yandere, forced transformation, in a way, kinda parental neglect?, light kidnapping ------------------.* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *.------------------ You open your eyes.

Everything is too much, the sounds, the smells, the lights. It feels like it's attacking every nerve in your being. You try to drown your discomfort by holding the ends of your soft sweater harder, is not really working, but at least it distracts you from that hollowness in your chest.

You close your eyes, leaning on the wall of the alleyway you are currently hiding in, letting the cold air of the night bring you some comfort.

It was the first time you were out of your apartment in a month, still being able to remember the night your life went to shit.

You were just finished the shift that you traded with a coworker, making decent money as a waiter in an upscale restaurant. And you were happy to go back to your apartment and proceed to past out on your bed.

That's when the sensation of being watched started. But you were in an active part of town, so you decided to just speed up your pace to get home and don’t really worry about it. After all, who would try to attack you with so many people around?

You felt confident on that decision, until someone grabbed your arm, and trying to look at the one doing it was the last thing you remember for a while. Next thing you knew you were sitting at a bar, in front of a drink that smelled way more flammable than drinkable.

You were just about to get up when a smooth voice captured your total attention. "Hey sweets, finish your drink, weren't you thirsty?" for some reason you couldn't really focus on the strangers face. But their eyes, those deep wine eyes stayed with you.

Swallowing, you thought your throat was very dry, and next thing you knew, you were downing a drink once, twice, until you lost count of how many glasses you had. When you next regained awareness you were in your bed, and everything was spinning.

"I think you are nice and ready for me Sweets?" The nice voice was with you, and something cold was sneaking around your chest, and it grabbed at the collar of your shirt, playing with it before tearing it open.

"A sweet lil' drink, just for me, how lucky" and with that, you felt your neck being stabbed twice, two sharp things buried themselves on you, and an explosion of pain assaulted your senses, your mouth locked in a silent scream as you could feel how your cheeks dampened by the tears and cold sweat from the pain.

A chilling coldness started to envelop you from your core, and slowly grew, overtaking every part in your body.

Weakly trying to fight the person on top of you, but being unable to do much, and the last thing you heard before being swallowed by darkness was a mocking laugh. .* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *.

The next time you woke up it felt terrible, your whole body hurt, and you felt in a constant state of fever, with a killer headache to seal the deal.

Everything felt too much, the clothes on you felt like sandpaper caressing your skin, you swear you could hear the water flowing in the pipes on the walls, the sunlight coming from your window felt way too bright and hot. It was overwhelming, but worst of all there was this hollowness in your chest that was growing and threatening to swallow you whole.

Something important was missing. You knew it in your bones but you couldn't determinate what. And that sensation was all consuming. Small sobs escaped from your dry throat and a broken kind of chirp came from your chest.

Just once.

And there was no answer.

That fact destroyed your declining mental state. Suddenly those strange sounds were cutting between your wails growing more desperate by the second.

The weird animal instinct inside you grew desperate for an answer that never came, you weren't sure how long you stayed there crying your eyes out until you tired yourself out enough to fall asleep. .* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *.

The next few weeks were nothing short from hell on earth.

Soon you felt hungry, and trying to stand up was a task of its own, you felt like you lost control of your motor skills, at the point that it felt like you were re-learning how to walk.

When you finally reached the kitchen, the humming of the refrigerator grating on your ears, and the smell of food both overwhelming and alluring to you. Almost in animal desperation you ate the left overs you had with gusto. When you felt satiated enough your eyes started to feel heavy.

That broken chirp coming back against your wishes, and a new wave of sadness enveloped you. A constant "scared, scared, alone" in the back of your mind. Dragging your tired body back to your bed while the tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. Picking a faint scent in one of the pillows in your bed, and your body launched itself to it. Bringing that stupid voice in the back of your mind to a stop. Some kind of relief washing down you, and with shaking hands you hugged the pillow closer, almost instantly falling asleep. .* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *. At some point of the week you accidentally destroyed your phone, too loud with pre-programmed alarms, it didn't survive being thrown at a wall.

It wasn't until the middle of the second week that things stopped being so overwhelming to the point of freezing you in place. Now they were just overwhelming enough to give you problems thinking, count your blessings right?

You decided to get rid of the uncomfortable clothes you were in, choosing a soft and fluffy sheep themed pajama that you usually saved for when it was really cold outside. But that cutesy white texture was the only thing in your closet that didn't make you want to crawl out of your own skin, plus it gave you some kind of comfort.

By the end of that week a thirst was starting to grow on you, but it didn't matter what you drank it wasn't satiated.

That was until the end of third week when you tried to cook something for yourself, it was a complete disaster. And you didn't finish even cooking the vegetables.

But after a crying fit you realized something smelled...... nice.

An odd thing to notice when you failed so miserably at cooking anything substantial, but trying to follow that lead you ended up in front of the block of raw meat that was finishing de-frosting on the counter. Its mere sight disgusted you, but your body was telling you to eat it, that you needed you satiate the thirst.

You resisted, even from the cloud that currently was your mind you started to think that you were starting to lose your mind to even consider doing it.

You cracked at the beginning of the fourth week, the thirst being just too much. Accompanied by pains all around your body and a realization of how sensitive your teeth and fingers started to become.

At the end of the fourth week you felt very out of it.

The scent that you found on your first week was completely gone from the pillow, a fact that every time you remember, you started to tear up about it.

Your food supply also slowly started to disappear until you had to resort to eating raw vegetables. Something that definitely was not sitting right in your stomach, if puking that morning was any sign.

That bring you to your predicament.

Looking like you were sick, your skin being flushed but looking very pale, your legs shivering from trying to stand up for a long amount of time. Red and puffy teary eyes that weren't focusing correctly on your environment. Hiding in an alleyway in your pajamas because you tried to go to the store to buy more food, but underestimated how overwhelming everything outside was.

The sights, the voices, the new smells made you feel very on edge and anxious.

Like you weren't safe.

Like you were lost.

Like you were so terribly alone.

That stupid sound bubbling inside you, while you tried to contain it. Biting your tongue and pushing it down as best you could. It's easy, you reminded yourself, just one foot in front of the other, and to go back to your apartment, food can wait till tomorrow.

While you were trying to hype yourself up, a sudden, overwhelming feeling started to cover you. As if you were being watched. Your breathing hitched and you tried to scan your surroundings to no avail. You can't hear anything out of the normal thing you were already hearing, but you are sure you felt something near you.

A sound cached your attention, but before you could even try to look for the direction it came from, someone grabbed you and pushed you against the end of the alleyway.

"Do they not teach you new-bloods any manners?"

A towering figure stands before you, broad shoulders and wavy dark blond hair, a full beard adorning an intimidating face. You can make out some scars in the hand that holds you by the collar of your shirt. Deep amber eyes pin you in place.

He has an air on him that screams danger.

The voice in your head telling you that you are completely outmatched by this man, internally screaming danger, danger, alone, scared, help-

"Hey, I'm talking to you" He says with an authoritative tone, making you snap out of your inner monologue and instinctively coil on yourself, or at least attempt to. His hand goes to your chin. Forcing your head to the side to get a better look at your neck “Really, who even is your maker-“

His eyes stay stuck looking at the fading mark that is barely visible at this point where the bite mark was made. You can feel him gaze scanning you from head to toe once more, and his grip on your collar started to soften.

He starts asking you more questions, one right after the other about things you don’t understand, too overwhelmed by everything happening, the adrenaline that was rushing through your body starting to disappear, the situation eerily similar at the one with the man that did this to you.

Your eyes filled with tears and those chirps came back full force, mixing with your whimpers and sobs.

Those sounds took the man by surprise, his eyes turning more soft and he let go of your shirt completely, and proceeds to lift you, cradling you to his chest and rubbing circles while shivers wreck your frame, your sobbing turning to all out wailing. “Hey, hey buddy it’s okay. I’m sorry if I scared you, I wasn’t expecting a kid like you being here all alone. Hell, you shouldn’t be here, period”

You feel terrified of this man, threatened even, but it has been so long since someone held you like this, your instincts fighting between the longing for security and comfort with the consuming fear of someone that you don't know getting closer to you. At the end you go almost in autopilot, nuzzling into his chest while trembling like a leaf.

He takes out his cellphone and starting to walk out of the alleyway. He calls someone, but you feel a bit out of it to really understand what was being said, just small parts, Thomas…surprise.... abandoned.... home..., drowned by the sounds of everything around you.

Yeah, you would like to go home, the sounds of the streets in the middle of the night are getting to you, and in reflex you try to hide deeper into the man's chest. A hand comes, running his fingers in your hair while he finishes his call.

"It's okay buddy, we are getting you somewhere safe" You feel tempted to trust him.

.* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *.

After what feels like a blink you land on a balcony.

You feel less overwhelmed, this place is way more quiet, without overly bright lights or overwhelming sounds and smells, just the lingering scent of the man carrying you and another one that makes you squirm in place.

Now that your mind feels a bit clearer. You don't even know the name of the guy that has been carrying you around like you weighted nothing.

"H-hey, uhm.." your voice feels scratchy from disuse. He turns to look at you, and smiles. before you can ask he answers" Elias" "What?" "My name, I'm Elias Cromwell, sorry little thing I haven't asked, what's your name?" He asks softly

You are a bit taken by surprise at being spoken so nicely from the guy that gave you quite a fright when you first encountered him. " I'm (Y/N). Can I ask, err, where are we?"

"Well kiddo, we are at my house. And you" He boops your nose "Are about to meet someone very special"

Elias slides the glass door to enter the house and instinctually you straighten up, the second scent that doesn't belong to Elias feels even more oppressive. You cling harder to him, almost clawing at his back, looking up at him in fear.

“Well, who is this cutie Elias?” A warm voice speaks from behind you, and you feel someone going to pick you up from Elias arms. You instantly start squirming in place, those annoying broken chirps start once again, you are scared, you just found someone to hold on to, and that security is being taken away from you, the tears start forming in your eyes, you hold on to Elias’s shirt while trying to bury your face into the crook of his neck “Woah! Hey buddy”. The tears start to prickle your eyes, for some reason you are way more emotionally sensitive than usual, and that little scare is almost enough to throw you into a crying fit. “Everything is okay kiddo, it’s just a friend, remember?”. After a bit of silence without an answer you hear the other person sigh and start walking away. You almost feel relieved until Elias starts to follow them. After a minute of walking, enough for you to, somewhat, calm down, you hear a door opening and you enter into a room, if outside felt that it wasn’t very bright, in here is way dimmer, just one light that give out a warm soft glow to the room, but not enough to really see well your surroundings. Elias sits on the center of the room and you feel the presence of his friend getting near you, a cold hand starts to softly scratch at your head, making you try to bury yourself deeper into Elias arms “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you. Could you let me get a look at you?” The second voice asks.

You shake your head no, but feel how Elias starts to lower you down, you chirp again in a panic trying to hold on again, but before you can even try, a cold hand grabs yours while you are being sat on the soft floor. “There, there” Thomas hand comes up your cheek cleaning your tears as they fall. “There is nothing to be afraid of honey” He lets go of your hands and bring his hand to cradle your face, making you look up at him, he is smaller than Elias, slimmer too, long strawberry blonde hair framing an elegant face, a fanged smile directed at you, his eyes feel like they are swallowing you up, that bright vivid red almost shinning in the dim room, it makes the instincts in you try to get away, but his gentle hold turns a bit more forceful, holding you in place. “I know you are feeling fussy baby, but you need to start behaving, I won’t have any of my children behaving like brats” That gets you to freeze for a second, what does that mean? His child? But you are an adult! “Really, you should be grateful” He continues, not really carrying about the look of fear that crosses your eyes. “It’s obvious the vampire that was taking care of you, was doing a poor job at it. Just look at you! Almost just skin and bones” You did feel like you lost some weight, a bit expected seeing how your diet ended up the last weeks. “But everything is okay now” Elias says behind you, and pushes you a bit so you end up in Thomas lap. “You are home after all” Thomas says while hugging you.

You want to fight, you really do, but you are so tired, you have already been having a bad time on your own, and all the emotions from tonight are getting to you. The small voice in your head relishes in the fact that you are not alone anymore, even if you don’t know the people that are holding you so sweetly, but that can be a problem for the future you. The present you can feel their eyes start to become heavy and with a hand guiding your head to the crook of Thomas neck you decide that maybe a nap can take priority in this situation. Completely unaware of the smiles adorning the faces of the two vampires holding you, having at last found the perfect little addition for their small family.

------------------.* ✶ ˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✧ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ ✶ *.------------------

#yandere #platonic yandere #parental yandere #soft yandere #yandere blog #yandere vampire #male yandere #familial yandere #tw infantilization #thats my first time posting my writting haha #so hope you all enjoy ^^#YanVampDads #Elias OC #Thomas OC #Mhunt storybook

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pome-seed · 10 days ago

Note

HEYY umm okay my first time asking, for Bucky Barnes, might be late to the party but here I am, WOOHOOO uh soo the reader is youngish probably 20-ish and then Bucky (any version you like, but preferably post TFATWS with the long hair) are on a sort of mission, I guess? And then the Hydra base or some enemy base gets set on fire/there's an explosion, the rest of the team gets out but the reader is stuck there because her comms broke and she didn't get the signal to get out and Bucky goes back in for her? Preferably platonic? With lots of fluff! Thank you!!!

Pairing: Avengers!Bucky x Avengers!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Another typical Hydra raid ends in an unexpected trap. After previously separating with you, Bucky finds himself drowning in panic when you stop responding on comms.

Warnings: Canon-Typical violence. Mentions of blood. Explosions. Angst and fluff.

Authors Note: Hi!! This is my first time answering a request, and it was so much fun!! Sorry if its not perfect, but I'll get better. Thank you to who asked and please enjoy! Comment your thoughts! (Also I know I didn't do great with the lots of fluff part...Sorry! I write mostly angst but I really want to write more fluff. Be patient with me.)

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The dim tunnel carried the stale scent of dusty cement and aged metal. The drip of water leaking from ancient pipes echoed down the halls, followed by careful footsteps. A light flickered and swayed ahead, the old lamp creaking.

Bucky held his gun high, his gaze fixed carefully ahead.

“South tunnel check?” Steve’s voice crackled through the coms.

“Clear, so far. I see an intersection ahead.” Bucky whispered, his cold metal fingers pressed to his ear piece.

“Y/n should be heading your way, from the west.”

“Got it.”

Intel about Hydra was almost never ending. So the facility sweeps, as well, were almost never ending. It got easier, with each one, but never any less haunting.

Hydra was a party of supremacists at its core, but one with a sickeningly skilled will to survive the test of time. Like a disease, it spread and spread, filling the cracks of society and poisoning the minds of many. Cut off one head, two more will grow in its place.

While each and every original founder of the cause was gone, believers survived them. Passionate, ignorant, greedy believers.

Hydra had dug its claws into so many corners of the earth, it was hard to place just where to start spreading the weed killer. The Avengers worked tirelessly, tracking down each and every base they could, weeding out the loyal, corrupt followers, and diminishing the cause.

But everywhere they went, there was only another head. And until recently, they thought they were tightening the reins on those still following the cause. Because what was left to follow?

Except those who elected themselves to be the ones to revive the party. And many, many people thought themselves worthy.

In the past week, the team had been tirelessly searching for a man, who had been plucking out supplies from facilities they didn’t even know existed. Without any idea of what he was taking, there was no telling what he had planned.

Though, Bucky knew. He always knew.

And that's why these missions were always the worst for him. Terrorized by the demons of his past, lurking and baiting him around every corner, he was forced to take lead. He was the only man alive with in-depth intel on Hydra’s secrets. Their experiments.

Bucky stepped slowly under the trembling lamplight of the intersection. Footsteps sounded from his right, followed by a flash of blue as Steve stepped out of the shadows. To his left, you and Tony- the iron suit shuddering and defeating the stealth you carried yourself with.

His gaze caught on the stark red stain dripping from your temple to your jaw. You shook your head at him before he could speak, insisting you were fine. He locked his jaw and looked forward.

Steve made a gesture with his fingers, pointing them ahead. The rest of the team must still be working their way through the north end of the underground system.

“Bucky, Y/n, continue ahead.” Steve whispered. “Tony, help me clear the side rooms.”

But Bucky was already moving, stepping carefully in front of you, around the cracks in the pavement beneath him. With the others around him, it made it harder to pick up on the subtle noises- the ticks, and creaks, the dripping of oil, the buzz of electricity.

Metal doors ached and shuddered behind him as the rest worked on clearing pathways through individual offices and lab store closets. Ahead was a large double door with a crank wheel. It was rusted in place, after so many years, but it didn’t matter. The large hole in the right door made for easy entrance.

You crouched, shining your flashlight into the dimly lit room. Nothing moved. Nothing flickered. You stepped through the jagged, bent metal. Your boots echoed on the grating.

The hairs on the back of Bucky’s neck prickled, fighting to stick up against the sweat on his nape. He took a calming breath as his gaze slid over the room.

He’d cleared more than a few Hydra facilities in his time since joining the Avengers. But this place, god, it was different. It was familiar. The air tasted the same, like burning, rancid metal. There was no warmth, the absence of real light sucking heat from the concrete walls.

You looked back at him, your lips tugged into a frown. “You okay?” You whispered.

He nodded, shaking off your concerned gaze. But it was hard with you. You could always read him, you could always tell when he was slipping into that cold, thoughtful place.

The doors behind him creaked open as Tony pried them off their hinges with a sarcastic remark. More footsteps followed.

Bucky suppressed a shudder as the sounds of tactical boots hitting metal grating brought back feelings of torturous familiarity. He breathed, pushing through the last creaking metal gate.

“Only a little further, yeah?” You whispered, nodding to the hallways up ahead.

His gaze caught on the red staining your skin again. “What happened to you?” He asked instead.

You turned back from where you were examining a series of posters in a foreign language. They looked like informative notices. “Lovers quarrel.” You quipped, smiling back at him.

He wasn’t amused.

“I can take a good hit or two, Buck.” You huffed, shining your flashlight in his face with a smile. “It is my job.”

He scoffed, tilting his head at you. “I know.” He muttered stepping past the posters. “With that thick head of yours, you’ll be fine.”

“Exactly.” You grinned, bumping his shoulder. “Speaking of thick heads, what’s going on up there?” You lifted a brow. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I can handle a routine sweep,” he referenced your words. “It is my job.”

“Then don’t be so tense.” You poked his back as you followed him.

He huffed, a smile curling at his lips. “One of us needs to be cautious.”

He flashed his light around a corner, which ended up just being a short shaft to a bathroom. You stepped ahead of him, gun raised. “I’m cautious.” You muttered.

“You stress me out.” Bucky huffed.

You threw him a look over your shoulder. “Then how about after this I treat us to a trip to the spa? Sound good?” You offered, lips quirked.

“It would be easier if you were just a little more careful,” he gently gripped the crown of your head and turned your head back forward. “Like paying attention to where you're walking when you’re holding a gun.”

You shook your head, letting his hand fall away. “I’m good at my job, Bucky.” You huffed.

“I know.”

You paused, stopping at a fork in the hallway. “Then you should focus on yourself,” you smiled. “Because you’re paying more attention to me than the job, right now.”

Bucky shifted. “I’ll sweep the cages for civilians, you got the lab?” He gestured to the hall with his flashlight, his lips tugged into a soft frown. You flashed him a smile and nodded.

“See you in a minute.” You whispered, your boots barely making a sound as you quickly slipped into the shadows.

He watched you fade from view, his jaw tensing. You were capable, he knew that. But he could never help the lingering anxiety he felt when you were out of his sight.

His comms crackled in his ear, signalling a fight on the other end of the compound. He had to focus. So he moved, shifting quickly and quietly down a length of empty rooms and glass cages.

It looked like a majority of the rooms had been vacated long before they got there, all except for one.

Bucky peaked his light into the small cell. A body shifted on the bed. He tensed, his gun lowering slightly. The sheets fell aside, revealing a frail elderly woman in a paper gown.

“Пожалуйста, не делай мне больно…” She whispered.

Please don't hurt me…

Bucky slowly pocketed his weapon, raising his hands. “Я не буду. Я здесь, чтобы помочь тебе.” He spoke softly, stepping closer. “Могу ли я вытащить тебя отсюда?”

I won’t. I’m here to help you. Can I get you out of here?

The woman wiped her cheek, brushing thin grey hairs from her face. She hesitated, looking over Bucky. Black tactical gear, long dark hair, gun on his hip. But those kind blue eyes and carefully placating hands eased her fear just enough. She nodded her head.

He gave her a soft smile. He pressed his earpiece. “Steve, I’ve got a civilian, bringing her out now.”

“I’ve got something way more exciting,” Tony’s voice peaked ominously.

“We’ve got an explosive, too advanced to defuse on site. Everyone evacuate the compound, now.” Steve grit. A series of the team's voices confirmed their positions and understanding. All but yours.

Bucky paused, his gaze fixed uncertainly on the weak woman.

“Bucky, do you have a clear route for the civilian?” Steve spoke directly to him.

“Yes,” he paused. “Do we have a confirmed response from Y/n?”

“Not yet. She’ll be fine. I need you to get the civilian out now, Bucky. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Let me go to-” he started.

“Bucky, I need you focused. She knows what she’s doing. I need you to get that civilian out, now.” Steve repeated again. “Bucky?”

“I got it.” He grit, dropping his hand. You’d be fine. You’re fast. You’re smart. But why hadn’t you responded to the comms yet?

The small bed in the corner creaked. The elderly woman groaned. She turned her pale brown eyes back to him. He needed to focus. He wiped his palms on his pants and moved towards her.

“Я сейчас тебя подниму, ладно?” He tilted his head at her, showing her his hands.

I’ll lift you up now, okay?

She nodded, her hands trembling as she rose up.

Bucky scooped the bony woman into his arms, wincing at how light weight she really was. He didn’t want to think about what had been done to her. Though he already knew. Of course he knew.

He only got as far as climbing through the hole in the metal wall before a cacophonous boom rattled and shook the entire compound. The pair crashed into a set of filing cabinets as a string of explosions followed.

Bucky shouted, curling the woman closer to his body as dust rained down around them.

He could smell the sour sting of chemicals. Of smoke.

The woman’s frail voice wept against his uniform as he stumbled around chunks of the fallen ceiling. Steve was shouting through the comms, trying to get a headcount. He couldn’t respond with his hands clutching the older woman.

But he still listened for your voice. It never came. What the hell was happening? Was there something wrong with your comms? Were they damaged in your earlier fight?

Did you never receive the evacuation notice?

Before Bucky could focus on the twisting and sinking feeling in his gut, he broke the surface.

Fresh air chilled his cheeks as he jogged through the dry trees towards his team. Tony’s large metal suit creaked as it landed beside him. “Let me take her,” The mechanical voice came out.

Bucky let the frail woman slip into his arms. “Он заберет тебя отсюда. С тобой все будет в порядке.” He felt her bony hand slip in his. She thanked him quietly. Her grip slipped away as Tony lifted off the ground.

He’ll take you from here. You’re gonna be okay.

As soon as he watched the red suit fade from view, he was stumbling back, searching his surroundings. Steve called to him from close by, jogging up.

“Where-” Bucky’s head swivelled, gaze sweeping through the trees. “Where is she?”

He counted them, bodies moving, breathing. His team. Alive.

Except he couldn’t find you.

“Where is Y/n?”

Steve froze, his brows drawing together. “Y/n? Report, I need your location.” He pressed his earpiece.

Bucky heard the man's voice shudder in his ear, then static followed. Ahead, smoke billowed and fizzled as the fire caught and raged on. The ground shuddered as another series of pops and explosions rippled through the compound.

“Y/N, come in.” Steve called into the mics again.

He shouldn’t have left you. He shouldn’t have let you go off on your own.

“Buck- wait!” Steve shouted, but he was already moving. Already shouldering through the trees, towards the fire.

Their original entrance had already collapsed, rubble scalding and dusting. But he could find a way in. He could do it. Because you weren’t there. And you weren’t responding.

And the image of your blood staining the walls of the cold labs he used to call home sent him into a blind panic.

So he tore through the skin of his palm as he shoved aside heavy stacks of stone. He pushed and tossed and crawled through the small clearing until all he could see was a smoking dark tunnel.

He shouted your name, squinting against the sting in his eyes.

He could only hear the creaking of old pillars, holding the weight of the crumbling facility. He just needed to get to the lab. To where he last saw you. You couldn’t have been far.

“Y/n!” He shouted again and again, until smoke filled his lungs and his voice came out horse. He climbed through a familiar hole in the wall, his boots scraping against the grating. Sweat stuck to his skin as heat swelled in the room, prickling and sweltering.

“Y/n? Come on-” He coughed, flashing his light around the room as he stepped over crushed lab equipment.

But he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t hear anything but the crackle and scream of the fire as it spread through the halls. He heard his team calling for him through his comms, so he tore the small device from his ears, straining for your voice.

“Y/N? Fuck-” he heaved around the thin whisps of air that still filled the lab.

But then he saw it. Your fingers, twitching slowly from beneath a fallen support beam. “Y/n!” He shouted, crumbling to his knees beside you.

You blinked, dazed, soot dusting your skin, sticking to the blood that dripped from your forehead.

“Buck-” You coughed, wincing as you squirmed. “Fuck- Bucky I can’t-” Your voice trembled and wavered, smoke filling your lungs until the words barely came out.

“Stay still, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” Bucky shushed, carefully and slowly lifting the pillar off of you. You cried out, the weight releasing and bringing a fresh wave of pain. You clutched your hip, sharp aches rippling up your side.

“It’s okay,” Bucky coughed, sliding his hands beneath your body. He lifted you from the ground, cradling you close to his chest. “I’ve got you.”

You groaned, wheezing for breath against his collar. You shivered, heat and sweat clinging to your body beneath your thick tactical gear. Your lashes fluttered as you rolled your eyes open to look at Bucky, his jaw locked and throat bobbing.

“Bucky-” You choked, curling your fingers in a leather buckle across his chest. “...Can’t breathe-”

“I know, doll- Just hold on…” He coughed, his chest trembling against you.

You drew closer to the fire, flames licking at your skin as Bucky manoeuvred you both towards the clearing. Towards safety.

When you felt the first kiss of fresh air against your tongue you broke into a fit of coughing, your throat swelling as you greedily sucked in the oxygen. Bucky swayed, his boots catching in the dirt. You heard shouting from afar, but you squeezed your eyes shut, clinging to Bucky.

“We need extract, Tony, bring the ship down.” Steve shouted into his comms as he approached. “Are you guys okay?”

Bucky heaved, blinking his bloodshot eyes down at you. He nodded.

He would be. And so would you.

"You owe me that spa day." Bucky panted. You dropped your head back against his shoulder, your chest tight as you struggled on a laugh.

"Deal."

A/N: Hi!! I hope you guys liked this! I love trying new things. I love these requests.

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prlssprfctn · 3 months ago

Text

"Who Is Afraid of Little Old Me?" is so Jason Todd core, and you are READY for this conversation.

'The scandal was contained

The bullet had just grazed

At all costs, keep your good name

You don't get to tell me you feel bad'

You tell me it is not about that one time Batman had finally faced Red Hood, with Joker being between them - as a reminder and a choice - ended up throwing a batarang in his neck (while Jason barely hurt him) and never told anyone else about this?

Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke

Then we could all just laugh until I cry

And you tell me this is not about Jason's death? About his last minutes with Joker, about how they forever imprinted in the core of his memory, to the point that sometimes he laughs at them instinctively, until the realization doesn't kick in?

So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean

"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Who's afraid of little old me?

Well, you should be

Is it not Red Hood who is back again, trying to return to Manor to remind others what happened to him?

So tell me everything is not about me

But what if it is?

Then say they didn't do it to hurt me

But what if they did?

… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

Had Bruce and Dick ever wanted to hurt Jason, both in the past and in the present? No. Did it still happen? Is Jason still the one to live with these memories, unable to explain how it makes him feel? Yes.

So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn

That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong

And if I say it is about Jason and all the kids that came after him that doesn't fully know who he is, but heard stories of Red Hood and violent Robin? They don't know a little boy who thought Robin gave him magic, the boy that died a hero — but they know Red Hood. And they heard of what a doomed, angry Robin he used to be.

And you hurt me

And you taught me

… You caged me and then you called me crazy

I am what I am 'cause you trained me

What is it if not Jason's POV towards Bruce? He is the crazy one now, a killer, a wrong one (not to mention these comics, where they actually threaten to send him to Arkham or Blackgate), but he is his father. His mentor. Still.

And some additional parts I want to add, because I think that they speak volumes too:

- "But my bare hands paved their paths, you don't get to tell me about sad"? I can't fully explain to you what I mean by putting this quote, but it is about Jason, crawling out from his grave (literally) and it is about everyone who stepped on the Robin path after. It is about his family making his death and grief about themselves at some point, leaving him nothing;

- "If you wanted me dead, you should've just said. Nothing makes me feel more alive" just one sentence — it is Jason about the batarang incident;

- A little detail, but I heard a lot of people complaining after the song's release that "Who is afraid of little old me?!" parts were at first loud, and they expected it to get to the full scream, but only ever got it becoming weaker, almost a whisper-like. And it is so Jason, too. Because he returns to scream, to yell, and he does at first. Until his anger washes out under disappointment and realization that he will never be chosen in a way he chooses people. And he doesn't scream anymore. Just whispers.

#I had days of thinking about this yeah #jason todd #red hood #dcu comics #dc universe #dcu #batman #bruce wayne #taylor swift

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mushies-stories · 1 year ago

Text

patience 18+

part one (read part two here)

Stu Macher X F!Reader!Virgin

Summary: things get a little steamy during movie night and Stu makes you feel good for the first time after teasing you for months.

Wanrings: SMUT 18+, dry humping, dirty talk.

word count: 2324

Stu had been patent and slow with you, knowing you were a virgin and not wanting to force you into anything. He kissed you, explored your mouth with his expert tongue. He would even grope your hips and thighs, sometimes holding you from behind and messaging your breasts through the fabric of your bra while he kissed your neck. All in his slow attempt to get you comfortable and ready to take another step in your relationship. Even Though Billy mocked and teased Stu about getting so close to you and taking his sweet time, he didn’t mind. Billy could say whatever he wanted, after all it’s not Billy who has you turning into mush in his arms when your neck is being sucked and bit on.

Watching you slowly fall apart for him was thrilling for him, you were becoming so sensitive the more he teased your body, kissed you until you had to pull away for air with a deep blush. Like now as you sat on Stu’s lap, legs straddling his sides while his hands held your hips gently. Some movie about a killer at a summer camp playing in the background, the tv being the only light in the room as your lips move softly against each other. Your skirt rode up enough so the only thing between your crotch and his were your cotton white panties. Your arms came to wrap loosely around his neck as you deepened the kiss a little, parting your lips and letting him slide his tongue into your warm mouth. You hummed softly as his hands traveled around to softly cup and rub your ass over your skirt, threatening to pull it up with little effort.

After a moment you both needed to breathe. you pulled away first with soft breaths and rosy cheeks. Stu leaned down to kiss your cheek softly, then lower to your neck. “You're so pretty Babygirl, could kiss you all day.” he said between kisses that he was trailing along your jaw until he found the spot on your neck that had your hips twitch against him. A small smirk played at the corners of his mouth, his teeth grazed the same spot before he began to suck a pretty little purple bruise onto the delicate skin. Your eyes fluttered and you let out a soft gasp, your back arching a fraction.

Stu, who was noticing every little movement, took the opportunity to scoop up more of your ass in his hands and slide you closer onto his lap. The friction it caused against your pussy made you tighten your grip around his neck and let out a soft moan. Your own hips jerked a little more this time and your pussy tingled at the sensation. You had an idea as to what Stu was trying to do to you. You noticed every time his touching and kissing had become progressively needier and more sensual over the past few weeks. You didn’t mind, but you also didn’t know how to tell him you wanted more. Your body was reacting to him constantly, even laying in bed you feel how wet your panties got at a memory of his hands wandering closer to your needy core. The only thing you had was your fingers and they just didn’t make you feel good enough, never satisfying you.

You began to feel your wetness pooling in your panties, sure to be leaving a nice wet spot. You worried as Stu adorned your chest and neck with love bites that you could be causing a mess on his lap as well. You shifted a little, trying to lift your hips up a bit so you were no longer pressing against his cock that was slowly hardening under the layers of fabric. Stu frowned against your skin before pulling you back down and grinding you softly against himself. “Where are you trying to run to baby, need you to keep my lap warm.” he teased sweetly between kisses and nips.

His hands kept a firm grip on your ass as he felt you slowly falling apart on his lap, your body mostly relaxed other than when your hips jerk a little from his hands squeezing and massaging your behind. You couldn't ignore how wet you were getting, sure you had to be leaving a mark on his jeans by now. “Stu…” you say softly, eyes fighting to stay open due to his soft lips on your hot skin.

He hummed and looked up at you from your chest where he was sucking a mark that made sure you couldn’t show any cleavage any time soon. “What Baby?” he asked after pulling off and listening to your small whimper.

You let out a soft sigh, regaining some kind of composure. “I think… well my um..” you end up stuttering out, embarrassed to tell him he was making you so wet you were also making a mess of his jeans.

He leans back fully so he could give you his full attention, something he knows fluters you even more. His hands smooth down the back of your skirt and come back to rest on your hips, thumbs pressing softly into your sides. “What was that Baby?” he asks, turning his head to hear you better with a small smirk.

Your hands gripped his shoulders as you shifted back again, hips pulling up from his crotch. “It’s… my panties.” your voice just above a whisper, your eyes were focused on the little space between your bodies. “They're all wet and making… making a mess on...” you cut yourself off, the rest of the sentence dying off in your throat.

Stu gave you a playful pout. “Oh Baby Girl, pussy getting needy for me?” he teased, that cheeky smirk back in place. He brings your hips down again, this time rolling his own up to elicit a short whimpery moan from you. “Pussy aching at the thought of my cock getting hard right under you, that right baby?” He asked when you didn't respond, delivering another roll of his hips.

You nod your head softly while looking at your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Mhmm, hurts Stu.” you say, a pout of your own forming on your face.

Chuckling softly Stu starts to rock your hips back and forth, not fast or hard, just teasingly slow. “Hurts? Oh, sweet girl can't help soaking my lap with your dripping little pussy huh?” He teased, voiced laced with pure desire now. “Want me to make you feel better baby?” he asked.

You nod again. Your eyes flutter a little as your clit is grazed along his cock uncethe thick fabric of his jeans. “Please.” you breath out,voice barely even audible, if he wasn’t so close he would have had to strain to hear you.

Stu’s smiles softness, you were trying to be brave and speak up and he could tell. His heart beat faster knowing it was him you were being so vulnerable with. “Of course baby, you asked so bravely and sweetly, how could I deny that?” he cooed. “move your hips and follow my hands okay Baby?” he instructed.

“Okay.” you respond softly. When his hands pulled you forward you were unprepared for the amount of pressure he started with. You gasped and held yourself steady against him while you found a rhythm together. You rolled your hips more evenly in time with his own and managed to pick up the pace to match the force he was using on your hips. It wasn't long before you were letting out soft little moans and whimpers, his cock pressing perfectly against your clit even through all the fabrics. “Stu… feels good.” you sigh, eyes rolling up a little as your brain becomes foggy from the new pleasure you were feeling.

Stu looked at you in awe, your face shifting from concentration to bliss in moments had his cock twitching in his pants. He needed this just as much as you did, he didn’t mind the wait but seeing you so desperate was making his cock so hard he couldn't help but pull your hips even harder.

Your pussy grinding fast and hard against his cock was making the sweetest mewls and whimpers leave your plump lips. “You sound so sweet Baby girl, such beautiful noises just for me.” He praised along with a harsh roll of his hips.

Your back arches and allows your clit to rub against his cock even more and your legs shudder a little at the feeling. His cock was big and the length was more than you figured you could feel with clothes on. Soon you began to feel a knot building in the pit of your stomach, your pussy was throbbing against the slick of your panties. “Feels so go-od, Stu I think-” you whimper, looking at Stu with big eyes, trying to tell him you need to cum, that you're so close.

Stu cocked his head to the side with a sickeningly sweet smile. “Want to cum sweet girl, that's it?” he asked. He really wanted to tease you more, make you spell it out and make you squirm until he finally gives you his cock in full. For now he settled on this, watching up ruin you pretty little panties on his lap. “Alright, I got you. Show me how good it feels rubbing your pretty pussy on my cock Babygirl.” he encouraged.

You nod your head rapidly, pulling your chest closer by wrapping your arms around his neck. You chased your high with help from Stu’s hold on you, making sure to keep you in place so he could rut his hips up and press your clit firm against his cock with every thrust. Your eyes fluttered shut, your lips parted as you let moans and whines fall pathetically from your lips. Stu drank in every desperate and needy noise you gave him. His cock was throbbing and leaking precum.

Finally that feeling in your stomach snapped, your hips would have slowed if it wasn't for Stu making sure to rock you through your first orgasim. “Mmm Stu- please don't st-op.” You whine and cling to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You let out a strangled moan, your shaky breath fanning the side of his neck.

“That's it, so good for me baby.” he praised, trying to keep it together but he was right behind you, once he felt your body relax a bit he continued rutting himself against your dripping core while he moved your hips at a steady pace. He could feel how wet you were, your sensitive messy pussy was soaking his lap and you whimpered softly as he moved you. Another harsh pull of your hips has his cock twitching and his cum coating the inside of his boxers. He let your body sag against his own, arms coming up to wrap around your back and pull you closer. “You did so good Baby, came so good for me.” Stu kissed the top of your head.

You smiled and snuggled into him more. “You made me feel so good, Stu.” you said sweetly. You pull back and look down at your laps, your skirt covering the mess that lays underneath.

Stu notices your curiosity and chuckles softly, his hand bundles up the fabric of your skirt and pulls it up. “Dirty girl.” he muses. “Look at the mess you made of me.” He teased you.

Your face was feeling hot again, your panties were a mess and you had indeed made a rather large wet spot on his crotch. “I'm so sorry, I’ll clean them an-”

“Baby.” Stu stopped you with a squeeze of your thigh. “Never be sorry for this.” He said. Letting go of your skirt, he slides his hand down and into your panties. He slides his middle finger through your slick folds and your whimper at the feeling and practically whines as he pulls his hand from your core. He places his middle finger flat against his tongue and licks your cum clean from the long digit with a low groan, his eyes rolling into the back of his head a moment. “Fuck, not when you taste this sweet Babygirl.” He said.

The feeling in the pit of your stomach was starting to stir again watching him taste you. Your pussy is almost aching at the sight. “Can't believe you teased me for months and made me wait to feel that good.” you pout, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Stu laughed. “Figured that out? My shy girl was just too scared to say anything?” he mocked.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. “Not scared… just waiting for you to make a move.” you lied.

Stu chuckled and rolled his hips up rather harshly. You gasp softly and your hands flew out to spread across his chest to keep your balance on his lap. “That so? Well I made my move Babygirl, what's yours?” He challenged that little attitude you just attempted to throw at him.

You tried to say something, move and do something but you froze. Being put on the spot making you back down and look at him with innocent eyes full of confusion.

Stu brought a hand up to up your warm cheek, his thumb stroked over your bottom lip. “Awe baby.” he cooed. “It's okay, you'll get there but for now let me take care of it okay?” he said sweetly. You nodded and nuzzled into his hand a little. He smiled and nodded back. “Good, now why don't we go get cleaned up baby, as much as i'd rather keep you glued to my crotch.” he joked.

You rolled your eyes and giggled. Thankful you had Stu who cared so much about you, you knew you would be safe with him and were ready for whatever came next.

#scream #scream1996 #scream x reader #ghost face #ghostface x reader #stu matcher x reader #billy loomis x reader #scream1996x reader #billy loomis smut #Stu macher x reader smut #billy loomis x reader smut #stu macher imagine #stu macher smut

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astermath · 2 years ago

Text

title taken ✧*

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: ethan makes an offhand comment about potentially “dying a virgin”. you ask him if he’d like you to help with that. and how could he possibly refuse?

word count: 3.8K

notes: first time fully writing smut on this blog! I hope I did okay lol I probs got a bit carried away,, I remember hearing his comment in the movie and being like I VOLUNTEER I CAN HELP lmao, anyways,,, comments / reblogs are highly appreciated, and requests are open! lmk if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further ethan landry related content!

warnings: cursing, protected sex, oral (f and m receiving), ethan realizing how much he loves going down on you lol, MINORS DNI!!!! normal sized font below!

notes: guys hot take but I think ethan is a boobs guy, but what do you think? sound off in the comments ethan nation

P.S.: this is a REPOST with some slight edits, sorry for the inconvenience!!

You distinctly remember the moment when Ethan made that comment.

You were all sitting outside, discussing your theories as to who the Ghostface killer could be and who you guys should be watching out for. When Ethan realized he was part of the core friend group, and as a result, also a target, he looked panicked.

“Am I gonna die a virgin?”

It was an offhand comment that no one paid much attention to, it seemed like everyone pretty much expected that from him. But you didn’t. Sure, he was a total dork, and really bad at talking to girls, but he was a pretty boy. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered hooking up with him before, but… That comment truly solidified the thought for you.

The two of you were sat on the couch of Chad and Ethan’s shared dorm. Despite Mindy telling you she didn’t trust him and that you shouldn’t be hanging out alone with him, you did very much need his tutoring. You’d rather get killed by Ghostface than have to retake econ.

But you couldn’t focus on the material. Not when Ethan’s virgin comment was making all kinds of images appear in your mind. You weren’t even listening to what he was saying, your brain having a field day with the thought of you taking that title away from him.

“Hey, Ethan.” You finally spoke up, looking away from your notes.

“Yeah?” He looked at you, the end of his pen held to his lips. He always had a habit of biting his pen when he got distracted.

“Are you really a virgin?”

The bluntness of your out of the blue question completely took him out of it. His eyes widened and he just sort of froze up, like his brain short circuited. You could tell he started blushing, and god did it look adorable.

“U-Uhm…” He put down his pen and tried to look anywhere but where your eyes were. Frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it. He’d never even had a girlfriend, let alone have sex before, and as much as Chad tried to get him involved with girls he always struggled with it. Not just because of how awkward he generally was.

But because he had a crush on you already.

No one knew, not even his roommate, but lately he’d been struggling with keeping it to himself, especially as the two of you had been hanging out more on your own. There were so many moments where he just wanted to be closer to you, move all these papers aside and just kiss you right then and there.

His eyes were fixated on his laptop as he swallowed hard, clearly nervous about the whole ordeal. “Uhm… Yeah. I am…” He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, trying to keep his hands busy so his nerves wouldn’t show as much. “Just… Never got around to it.” He chuckled nervously.

You closed your laptop, realizing you’d made the poor boy uncomfortable with your sudden interest in his sex life. Or, well, lack there of. “Hey, it’s okay! It’s nothing to be ashamed about, there’s no, like, expiration date on when you have to fuck someone…” You tried to make him feel a bit better.

Ethan nodded awkwardly, genuinely wishing this couch would just swallow him whole so he could disappear. The girl he liked knew he was a virgin loser with no game, there was no way you were ever going to want him now.

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, Ethan wondering if it was too late to jump out a window and forget this ever happened. You, however, had a different turn of events in mind.

“Do you want me to help with that?”

Those words made Ethan look up from his laptop and his eyes widen. If your previous question was a pitch, this one was a home run. He wasn’t even completely sure if you actually asked that or if he imagined it, until he met your gaze. But he wanted to be sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. “W-What?”

You shuffled a little closer, legs touching his, putting a hand on his thigh and leaning in slightly. “Do you want me to take your virginity?”

Ethan can feel blood rush to his cock from the question alone, his gaze darting from your lips back up to your eyes. If this was a dream, it was definitely the best one he’s had so far.

“Yes.”

Your lips meet his only a second after his reply, the book on his lap falling to the floor as you both lean in at the same time. You could tell he was nervous, but that didn’t stop him from trying. You tilted your head to the side and opened your mouth slightly to run your tongue across his bottom lip, an action that elicited a slight whimper from him.

His arms snaked around your waist and you raised yourself up onto his lap. A hand soon found its place in his curls, tugging gently to tilt his head back as your lips traveled down to his jaw, then to his neck, peppering gentle kisses and love bites on the way.

“S-Shit…” He spoke between hot breaths, one of his hands now resting on the soft flesh of your thigh, squeezing slightly whenever your teeth would bite down on his sensitive skin.

You giggle softly at how sensitive he was, lips sucking a darker mark on the spot below his ear. His hips were shifting beneath you, and even through multiple layers of clothing, you could tell he was getting harder by the second. You pulled back, hands coming up to cup his pretty face. He was already panting a bit, cheeks tinged pink from all this newfound excitement. “You look so pretty...” You press another soft kiss to his lips. “This okay?”

Ethan looks up at you with an almost desperate look in those doe eyes of his, nodding at your question. As much as you wanted to fuck him right then and there, Ethan deserved to be taken care of a little, especially since this was his first time experiencing most of this.

“Good, good...” Your thumb rubs gently across the soft skin of his cheek. “Wanna... Take this to the bedroom?”

“Please.” He breathes out against your lips.

The walk, or almost run to his bedroom, was a blur in your mind. You wasted no time, quickly getting inside and locking the door behind you both. Ethan was eager now that this was finally feeling real, hands swiftly finding your hips again and pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

“Hmm... Someone’s excited...” You mumbled in between kisses, stumbling backwards onto the bed until your back hit the mattress. Ethan held himself above you, brown curls perfectly framing his face as he admired how beautiful you looked on his bed.

He kissed you again, tongues playing with one another as his confidence was spurred on by his pure exhilaration. “Been... Wanting to do this forever...” He spoke against your lips as your hands searched for the hem of his shirt. “With you...” He pulled his shirt off in a hurry, diving back to meet your neck, pressing feverish kisses to your skin.

“Yeah?” You bit your lip, hand coming up to further push him into the crook where your shoulder and neck met. You let out a soft mewl when he bit down, wondering if he’d imagined this before. One of your hands moved over his chest, nails raking over the skin and undoubtedly leaving red lines in their wake. They travelled over his abs, down to his crotch, palming slightly, which earned a delicious groan from him.

You tilt your head to kiss the side of his head and get his attention to meet your gaze. His eyes find yours, half lidded, pupils blown out like he was high off the moment. “Me too.” You say, and you could swear it activated something in him when you did.

His hands start roaming under your shirt, and you take that as your cue to take yours off too. He stops for a moment, purely to admire the newly exposed parts of your body. Sure, he’d snuck glances at your chest when you wore tighter shirts, or when the collar would dip down just enough to give him a peek. But he only imagined touching your tits, how soft they were, how well you’d react to his hands.

His hand reached out and he gently cupped your breast, still a little careful. “So soft...” He mumbled to himself, his thumb slowly rolling over your nipple, almost teasingly so. You whined softly, arching your back a little into his touch. His other hand joined in and he squeezed them a bit, seemingly entranced by just how soft and pleasant they felt. Like they were made to be held by him.

He leaned down to your chest and looked up at you with puppy eyes. He could ask you to rob a bank with those eyes, and you’d do it. You just hoped he didn’t realize how you weak you were to that look.

“Can I?” He licked his lips.

“Y-Yeah, Ethan, anything...” You rubbed your thighs together. You knew he was just taking things slow, for both of your sakes, but god it felt like he was teasing you so badly.

He licked your nipple, a little hesitant, but he took the hand in his hair as a sign that he could continue. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled softly, closing his eyes as his fingers played around with your other nipple. You swore he was getting off on just sucking and touching your tits, noticing slight movements of his hips grinding into the bed.

He let go with an audible ‘pop’, earning a delicious whimper from you.

“E-Ethan...” You whined, catching your bottom lip under your teeth.

“Yeah...?” He hoped he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“Touch me...” You spread your thighs a little more. “Please?”

“O-Oh, right... Sorry, I just... Got a little caught up in the moment.” He chuckled nervously and you did the same. You were glad there was still an air of lightness surrounding the whole ordeal. The last thing you’d want was for him to feel judged or uncomfortable.

He moved back a little between your thighs, hands exploring the soft skin of your legs with a pleased hum. He’d dreamt about moments like these so many times, ever since you became part of the friend group, he just couldn’t stop imagining what it was like. What you’d feel like, what you’d sound like... He was still processing a little that it was all actually happening.

His hand hesitatingly moved over your inner thigh, bringing a finger to gently trace over the fabric of your panties. His eyes widened a little at what he felt; you were soaked. He felt a little more confident in knowing he did that to you, but also a little shocked. “You’re... So wet...”

You brought up your hands to cover your face. You were, yes, but the way he was saying it made you all the more conscious about the effects he was having on your body. “Ethan... That’s-- You can’t...”

He grinned slightly at your reaction. He never knew you could get shy like this, you were usually such an open person. “Alright, let me just...” His fingers dipped under the waistband of your panties. He bit his lip when he discovered the hot wetness there, gently running over your slicked folds. “Is this okay?” he looked up at you.

“Mhm...” You nodded, your thighs twitching slightly when his finger grazed over your clit. “F-Fuck, yes... There, keep... Keep doing that.” You felt a little guilty for a second, remembering this was supposed to be about him. But you were doing him a favor, really, he was bound to have to find out how to touch a girl sooner or later.

His middle finger ran gentle and slow circles over your clit as his other hand kept busy running up and down your thigh. He stopped for a moment, hooking his finger around the elastic of your panties, looking at you for approval to take them off. You said something along the lines of “go ahead” between your whimpers, so he gently removed them from your body.

Again, he was taken aback by how beautiful you were, pussy glistening with juices. “God...” His thumb ran over your clit and you shivered slightly, having missed his touch, even if it was just for a few moments.

An idea sprung alive in his head, something he’d thought about many times before. “Hey, uhm... Can I...” He seemed nervous about proposing it.

“Hm? What is it Ethan?” You propped yourself up slightly onto your elbows, looking at him.

“Can I go down on you?” He paused for a moment, swallowing. “I, uh... I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You smiled at his request. Usually, the first thing guys would want is for a girl to go down on them, but you supposed Ethan wanted to explore all the options a little first. And maybe he wanted this to last longer than he would with your mouth on him. “Y-Yeah, sure...”

He smiled back, arms now on both sides of your thighs as he leaned his head down closer to your aching core. His hot breath hit your pussy, and you resisted the urge to just pull him closer. Instead, you ran your fingers over his scalp with an encouraging nudge. He stuck out his tongue, running it flat over the entirety of your wetness, humming at the taste.

You squirmed when he reached your clit, and his hands came up to settle on your thighs. He flicked his tongue and you moaned, almost obscenely, at the action. “F-Fuck!” He did it again, and your thighs started clamping down on him. “Jesus, Ethan...” He brought his lips down onto the needy bundle of nerves and suckled gently. Your head threw back as his tongue sent waves of warm tingles through your entire body.

“A-Are you sure this is your first time?” You spoke breathily through your moans and it only spurred him on further. He looked up at you with those all too familiar puppy eyes, tongue eagerly lapping at your juices. He moaned into your cunt, rutting into the bed slightly, fuck it felt good to please you.

You felt a familiar knot start to form in your stomach, hips moving against Ethan’s face as you mumbled his name over your whimpers. He sucked down on your clit again and that sent you over the edge, hand gripping his curls as you became undone beneath him. You rode it out on his face a bit before you relaxed back onto the mattress, thighs trembling in the aftermath of your orgasm. “Holy shit... Ethan...”

He slowly got up, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth clean. “I hope I did alright.” He smiled, gently stroking your leg.

“Are you kidding me?” you spoke up after finally catching your breath. “You did so well baby.” You propped yourself up and he leaned down to kiss you, letting you taste your own juices on his tongue. Your hands went to his pants in the meantime, working on undoing his belt. “If you’d just… Help me out with those…” You smiled against his lips. “I could return the favor.”

He wasted no time in taking off his pants, kicking them off the bed until he was left in just his boxers. He kneeled on the mattress, his hard-on straining against the fabric of his underwear. You leaned forward onto your elbows, and he swore just the sight of you like that would have finished him off.

You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his bulge through the fabric, and you noticed a twitch from his cock in return. “Been wanting to know what you taste like for months…” You mumbled, hooking your fingers over the waistband of his underwear to free his throbbing cock. The tip was already dripping with pre-cum, proof of just how worked up he got from eating you out earlier.

“Just relax, ‘kay?” You looked up at him and offered a sultry smile, to which he nodded. You reached out and with a gentle grip, pumped his length a few times. He bit his lip, suppressing a groan. God your hand felt so much better than his…

You leaned in and licked across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum on your tongue and savoring it. “Such a pretty cock too…” You licked up the length of him and he hissed through his teeth, hand landing gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, not pulling, just wanting to touch you.

He whined out your name when you suckled on the tip, looking down at you with desperate and needy eyes. “Fuck… T-That feels… So fucking good oh my god…” His hand moves over to your jaw, so you’re looking up at him now, and the eye contact doesn’t break, not even once.

His breathing picks up when you start to bob your head, but he stops you before you go deeper, pulling out of your mouth. “Shit, sorry, was that too far?” You look at him with a worried expression.

“No, no, not at all, it’s just… I wanna last longer.” He looked a bit embarrassed, and you felt a sense of pride of almost making him cum just from giving him head for a bit.

“That’s okay,” You got up to your knees and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m starting to get impatient anyways,” His breath hitched when you traced your fingers over his length again. “Need you inside me…”

You gave him a slight push so he sat down on the bed as you leaned over to grab a condom from the pocket of your discarded shorts. You rolled it over his cock, a snug fit, as expected, and your eyes went back to his face. He watched your pussy hover over his length, mentally preparing himself. If you going down on him felt that incredible, then this was about to be an out of body experience.

You put one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself, and reached one hand under to run his tip between your folds, lubing him up with your juices. “You ready?”

He nodded, hands coming up to gently rest on your hips. With that, you sank down onto his cock, slowly but steadily taking him inch by inch. Both of you moaned in unison at the joining of your bodies, neither of you imagining it would feel quite like this. You, surprised by the stretch he gave your cunt, him, surprised by your warmth and tightness.

“Fuck…” You sighed out, before you fully took his length, skin meeting skin with an audible clap. “So... Deep...” You put both of your hands on his chest, leaning forward a little. “Feels good, huh? You fit inside me so perfectly...”

“Shit...” He squeezes your hips harder, not enough to bruise, at least not yet. “So tight...” Ethan moves his hips up a little and you moan at the movement, the head of his cock grazing a very special spot inside you.

“F-Fuck, Ethan, hold on... J-Just...” You raised your hips, almost pulling him out completely.

“Let me...” You lowered again, ass meeting his hips. “Take care of you...” You started to establish a steady rhythm, Ethan watching your body move in complete fascination. You were gorgeous, tits bouncing, making the prettiest noises. Any guy would kill to have you on him like that, and he was no exception.

Your thighs started burning a little after a while, and he could tell as your movements got less intense. But you felt so good, every single change in motion sent jolts of pleasure through his body, his cock twitching whenever you would moan out his name.

He decided to keep chasing this high and take the reigns, putting a hand on your lower back and getting up, laying you down on the mattress as he pulled out.

“E-Ethan! What are you-- o-oh my god--” Your sentence got cut off by him sliding back inside you, his arms resting besides your body. You didn’t expect this more... Initiative-taking side of him, but it was welcome either way. You hooked your legs around his hips to pull him in closer, arms resting over his shoulders.

He quickly began thrusting, hips snapping forward, the room filled with the almost pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. He looked at you, curls sticking to his sweaty forehead, mouth slightly agape. You pulled him in by his shoulders to capture his lips, moaning into his mouth as he picked up the pace.

“Fuck... ‘M close... So close...” He spoke through heavy pants, head now buried into your neck.

“Me too baby, me too, holy shit don’t stop... D-Don’t stop!” You felt the hot coil in your stomach get to a breaking point, the bed rocking slightly with Ethan’s movements as you started repeating his name between your moans.

Ethan’s hips pushed into you one last time, cock twitching as he came, filling the condom nearly to its brim. He groaned your name into your neck, breath hot against your love bite covered skin.

You followed right after, legs clamping down on him, your pussy clenching onto his cock and milking every last drop out of him. Your thighs trembled as you panted, holding him close as he rode out his orgasm with a few last sloppy thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of you, the weight almost comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressing a kiss to his head. He moved his head to kiss you lazily, and you chuckled at how adorable he was being. He pressed a few kisses to your lips, eyes fluttering open soon after.

“Thank you...” He smiled sleepily, still coming down from the amazing high he’d experienced just then. “That was... Amazing...”

“Could say the same to you...” You smiled back, basking in the sweet after sex euphoria while you could. You whined slightly when he finally pulled out, suddenly feeling a bit empty.

Ethan disposed of the condom while you went to his bathroom to pee really quick. He sat back down on the bed and looked at his phone, seeing multiple messages from his roommate.

[chadmeister]: jesus christ

[chadmeister]: are u guys almost done

[chadmeister]: i’ve been here for like 20 minutes now you know

[chadmeister]: pretty sure the entire floor heard u two

[chadmeister]: at least u def won’t die a virgin now MY MANNN

tag list <3

@kometqh

#aster writes scream #ethanmath #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x fem!reader #ethan landry smut #ethan landry writing #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry fic #ethan landry fan fic #scream 2023 #scream VI #scream 6 #scream 6 fic #ethan landry scream 6 #ethan landry scream #ethan kirsch

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hazelfoureyes · 3 months ago

Text

A Doe in Fall (Part 15)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

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

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smut💦 Part 15 - Silence smut💦📍

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

Where we left off: While you set out to find the perfect accessories for your love confession, Brady stopped by Alastor’s home. Alastor lost his temper and scared Brady off the property after giving a tour of the greenhouse. Brady knows just who Alastor is now.

Helpful definitions this part

Box - Bar ✦ Cheese it - Run away ✦ To be pinched - to be arrested ✦ Hooch - Alcohol ✦ Nightcap - A drink before bed, often times alcohol and often times an excuse to be alone together privately

Part 15 Silence

Alastor decides secrets shouldn’t exist between you after his last fuck up and gets straight to the news, which puts a slight kink in your plans for the evening. Namely, professing your love for your suave killer boyfriend. Luckily he has some ideas! Well, one.

「Warnings/Promises: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader, mention of sexual assault in the context of stating things not happening, sexy sex time, confessions, coppers, Mimzy’s unlabeled alcohol, the water table, love, partial writing credit to Kellin Quinn, the meaning of flowers, Mimz is short for Mimzy, if you see MINDY or MINZY no you didn’t」

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MDNI 💖 🥃 💐

“He knows.” Alastor’s eyes were closed and his palms facing towards heaven, hopefully in prayer to spare his life as he felt sure you’d strangle him.

“Excuse me?” There was a ringing in your ears, vision darkening a little at the edges. You knew exactly who he meant and what they knew, but you needed a second longer to live in your life before.

Alastor had hummed the entire way home from your errands, fingers dancing along the steering wheel. You managed to hide the contents of your bag behind your back as he held the front door open for you, sliding it under the kitchen table when Alastor asked you to take a seat because he had news.

“She knows.” Brady hissed it into the receiver of the first pay phone he found upon leaving Alastor’s home.. His car was parked at a hasty angle just across from a small restaurant. “He killed Tommy.”

He heard Freeman exhale before shuffling off somewhere, “Who?”

“Alastor!” He said it louder than he had meant too, but the confused question his partner sighed slowly in reply seemed to be nothing short of wasting time.

“Alastor.” You breathed it out, you felt your fingertips go cold. Blood flowed to your core, protecting vital organs from the danger your brain knew was nearby.

“Don’t fret, my love. He will never find a body, never a drop of blood in my home or car.” A clap of his hands, a sparkle in his eyes, “Let's go dancing!”

You shot up, the ludicrous suggestion physically pulling you out of the chair. The wooden legs squeaked as they rubbed against the flooring. This was it, your heart was going to beat so fast and so hard it just gave up the effort. A gulp of air before you felt the room spin again.

Every muscle in your body went slack just as quickly as they’d roared with fearful vigor barely a second before, causing you to lean onto the table with both hands for support. “This is no time for dancing, Alastor!” A wave of nausea made your head hang heavy between your shoulders. Heaviness was a good word for your entire existence at the moment..

He fought back a self confident chuckle, knowing the look you’d give him would be sharp enough to cut. “This has been my singular focus for years. I’ve made no mistakes. He has two options left to him. Go crazy hunting down something that doesn’t exist ooor,” he sang the word, “he tells his superiors he thinks a popular radio host and public figure is a mass killer, in which case—,” a wicked grin curled up his face.

“They’ll put you on desk duty, if not send you away on medical leave. You sound… unhinged, Kenny.” Across the lake, in a diner too lit for his migraine, Brady stared at the table between him and Freeman. “You gotta let it go. You went on his property and insulted his mother and think his reaction is proof he’s a murderer? No, no sir. You need to go home and take a shower. Maybe ask for a couple days and go visit the in-laws. Get out of the city for a bit. Come back fresh faced and bushy tailed, yeah?”

Brady growled, hands running down his face in barely contained frustration, “He threatened my life and then said that he killed Tommy, Ed.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“I asked if it was a threat, he denied it, and I said he killed Tommy, and he said on second thought, yes.”

“He was more likely agreeing that it was a threat. Which is his right, you were trespassing, Ken! With a gun on your hip, bud.”

Brady’s stare was absent of any indication he was there.

“Just— go home, buddy.”

“Let’s go out!” Alastor’s hands slipped around your waist and held you assuredly against him. You were a scared sailor tied to the mast in a storm. You’d survive together or go down as one piece as long as his hands were wrapped around you. The bonds of love keeping you safe.

Love, your eyes looked down to the table beside you, the bag of surprises underneath.

“I thought we were playing it quiet.” Your own voice was miles away. Like a death, you needed time to grasp how changed your world was now. A scrap of your mind tried to remember the story of pandora.

“That was before. Now there’s no reason to hide! I want to twirl you around a room and steal everyone’s attention. I want people flocking to your theater to see Alastor’s girl in her element.”.

A sentiment so sweet it sliced through your panic with a stark efficiency. The deep seated desire to be more than just wanted, but to be flaunted, eclipsed your very real fear of Brady’s next moves.

“You want people to know you’re with a dancer?”

Brady who? More important things had come up now.

Alastor’s smile dropped, thumb wiping a lonely tear from your cheek before you could realize it was there. Backing up from his firm hold, your hands shot to your face. Confused, wiping away the tears forming, you let out a self conscious chuckle. Rarely did you cry let alone around others, yet since Alastor’s arrival it seemed you didn't recognize yourself anymore.

“You’re a marvelous performer. Why would I not want that?” His smile was mega-watt in the darkening kitchen. “Another bragging point for myself, really.”

Your chin quivered, a thawed anger boiling in your chest. How many times had other women told you how worthless you were for your profession? How many men promised to keep you their dirty little secret, well kept and taken care of? Brady knowing meant… freedom. You could say Alastor’s name as much as you wanted, to whomever you wanted. You could make a scene together.

“Fuck it, let’s go out.”

“But I’m right.” Brady’s eyes finally met Freeman’s.

Freeman laughed, a little too loudly, and offered to the waitress and other customers apologetic little bows of his head in their directions. “Fine, maybe. But who fucking cares? Did he kill a kid? Is he raping people? Bustin’ up mom and pop shops for money?” He wasn’t at the station, he wasn't on duty; he could be honest. What harm was there in that?

In the depths of his obsession, Brady took the rhetorical question as a genuine one. “Not that we know of! Where there’s smoke there's fire!”

“For fucks sake. Kenny. Enough. The only thing catching fire here is your reputation. There’s no evidence this man’s done a damn thing, even less than none that he’s murdered multiple people. You’re unwell, pal. You need to back up before you—,” his hand came to rest on his partners across the bright white table. “You’re gonna ruin your life like this.”

“What were your wise words again? Right,” Brady set his money down and slid from the booth, “Who fucking cares.”

“Kenny!” Decorum damned, Freeman shot up and followed Brady, “Don’t be like that. Please.” Heads turned as their peaceful afternoon meals were interrupted by the raised voices.

“Excuse me! Are you going to finish paying?” A line cook hollered, “Or do we need to call the cops?”

Freeman turned back to see Brady walking off into the rising darkness of the night, a bright ember orange sun setting on his shoulders. A sure sign of fall dying to winter’s early evenings. “No, it’s alright. Sorry.” He closed the door and returned to his booth, wondering what exactly he was witnessing. The fall of a good man? The end of a career? Or something worse?

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

It felt like your first date all over again. That same nervous energy hummed between your skin and your bones. The bag had been abandoned beneath the kitchen table for a hasty change of outfits, Alastor practically skipping to the car.

As you had been buttoning your dress you did have a wild, ‘what the fuck are we doing?’ pass over your head.

It felt like a celebration of …. Being found out?

All the relief of finally admitting a lie without any of the fall out.

And as the car jostled over the bridge into downtown New Orleans Alastor was grinning brightly. It absolutely was a celebration. He’d finally made a move toward Brady, he’d left his place in the shadows and it was liberating. No more hiding. The scariest part of his hobby had been confronted and nothing would come of it.

Nothing could come of it. Brady had made too many missteps. It was all over the body language of his partner as he shifted in Alastor’s office chair. You’d been released with a promise of an apology, a clear indicator no one was sympathetic to Brady’s witch-hunt. Alastor was reckless, and impulsive, and sometimes dismissed consequences, but he wasn't stupid. He hadn’t done or said anything conclusively to Brady. The detective had unlocked the door all on his own and Alastor merely held it open as the man stumbled into an unbelievable situation.

When he explained the interaction to you in more detail (though you were admittedly distracted by him undressing) you felt a small easing of worry roll over you again. He hadn’t found any proof to bring back to the station. It was all conjecture. It was words, and without someone to corroborate, they were as good as a fairy tale. The only person who could back up what had happened was you and you’d take Alastor’s secret to your grave. A little smirk crept up your cheek and you pursed your lips to pull it back. You could imagine his face, Detective Brady’s, asking you to confirm what he knew was true. And how it’d fall when you denied him.

A chill, the wind from the river was cold and unimpeded by the safety of the trees. But soon you were sheltered by buildings and basking in the glow of the lights.

Your relationship had quickly gone from carefree and curious to a bond held together by a dangerous secret. There was a still a secret to be kept but Alastor’s lungs seemed to take in more air now that the little worm that was the detective was ejected. He hummed freely, fingers again dancing across the broad steering wheel as if across a piano’s keys. The deliciousness of the moment was still stirring in his guts and tingling down his spine. The flash of fear. The panic. His favorite part, arguably. Normally it’s so short lived.

But even now, he knew Brady had that fear in his heart. And it made Alastor ecstatic.

Reentering the far-too-fancy restaurant was mortifying, but the host looked at you with a pleasant surprise that let you know you did much better this time around. No smeared makeup, no mussed hair. You got to follow him through the dining room and into the secret door that led down the stairs to Mimzy’s speakeasy.

Funny, the wealthy had well lit hotel bars with no false front and you all had secret basement floors.

Which made you pause, ignoring Mimzy’s greeting entirely. A basement in Louisiana? That didn’t make a lick of sense. The river was just a block over, how was this entire place not flooded. You couldn’t linger on it too long though, Alastor pulling you forward by the hand and presenting you to Mimzy.

“Mimzy, the often spoken of but never seen!” His hand gestured to you like a magician to a rabbit.

“We met already when she came to gather you off the floor.” She didn’t offer her hand, instead keeping one on her hip and one on a drink. Alastor grumbled, he hadn’t wanted to remember that night.

“Pleased tah meet ya!”

You noted how her accent only got thicker when she tried to enunciate.

“Pleasures all mine.” Your own hands fidgeted with your dress. “It’s nice to see Alastor actually has friends.” Alastor protested, you’d met his friends before. But when you asked him to recall anything of depth about them he rolled his eyes. Mimzy laughed too loudly at the comment.

“I’m not sure he’s got many of those. He’s a little hard to love. I think he’d let me drown if his shoes would get ruined.”

“I didn’t invite her here to create a clique of bullies. We came here to drink and dance. In that order, preferably.” Alastor slid onto a stool, “And leather will absolutely get ruined if submerged Mimzy, have some sense.”

Slipping into the seat beside him, you let the two bicker as you focused on the oddness of sitting there with him. Going out was rare, a night in was easier for you both for obvious reasons. The last time you did so you were at his side for less than an hour before he was whisked away to his mistress (murder).

“Three shots sweetheart. We’re celebrating! I took your advice.” Alastor patted the bar when he said it and you tuned back in. What advice?

“And a water.” You added at the risk of sounding like a square.

“Of course you did!” A withering snicker that melted into an embarrassed giggle from Mimzy, “what did I advise, exactly?”

“The ex.” His hand reached over to gripped yours on the bar, “Put the fear of God into him.”

Eyes on your hands, you wondered what exactly he’d said about your ‘ex’ to Mimzy. But you had to trust him. A little nod of your head before you met Mimzy’s smiling eyes. She whirled around and set up the glasses.

As she poured she overflowed the tiny flutes and spilled with every move. Once they were all too full, she let the nondescript bottle come down with a thud.

Mimzy tapped one shot glass on the bar and raised it, “To God!” She beamed.

“To Fear.” A smirk so wicked you thought you saw his shadow dance across the far wall. He raised it higher than hers.

You quickly raised your glass too, toasting to the real reason for your prolonged freedom, “To Alastor.” His sharp eyes came to wide eye you and softened, smile shortening before pushing his glass forward. A clink and you downed it in time.

“What,” Alastor sputtered, tossing his head back to keep from wretching, “the fuck is that?!”

“How the shit would I know. He rolls it down here and I drink it.” Mimzy shuddered but didn’t seem too affected.

You had both hands gripping your glass of water, gulping it down to wash away the distinct taste of ethanol. “I don’t think that’s safe for human consumption.”

“This is the stuff that makes people go blind.” Alastor inspected the shot glass closely. She just shrugged. “Whiskey next. Actual whiskey. As in, it was made to be whiskey and people waited for it to become whiskey.” She rolled her eyes again and leaned down beneath the bar.

A drop fell on your cheek and reminded you of your question from before, “Hey Mimzy, are we… under the water table? How'd you get a permit for a basement.” Your head turned up to the ceiling, painted black to hide the pipes and beams exposed there. You couldn’t be sure what was above you now, the kitchen? A dining room?

“Permit, ha!” She croaked, “This isn’t on the fucking paperwork. This room doesn’t exist to the city of New Orleans.” She pointed along the far right wall, “We’re built on a hill, this is tech-na-cully the ground floor! Clever, huh?” Mimzy batted her lashes and waited for the praise. Her sweet tone dropped to her natural tenor, “Tell me I’m clever.” She hissed.

“As ever! Since we’re asking questions, I’ve always wondered why it's called CD?” Alastor’s hand left yours to bring the newly poured whiskey to his nose. His eyebrows rose in a surprised approval.

Mimzy’s eyes flashed over with anger before she hurriedly looked around for something to fuss the emotion out with. She settled on a dish rag she twisted and wrung tightly, “You nit, it’s a G and a D. It’s called the Golden Dish.” You heard some threads snap. “You’ve been coming here for ages and thought it was a C and D??”

Alastor shrugged, unbothered by the raging bar owner as he took a second large sip. She whipped the rag at the counter with a snap, “I’m the golden dish!! I’m fancy and beautiful!!” A wet pop of the small towel with every word.

An enlightened, “aah” from Alastor before he turned his head to you, “Ready for that dance?” He told the whiskey he’d be back and spun around to pull you to the center of the small bar.

The music had to stay low to avoid alerting the patrons upstairs with their virgin drinks, but a lively tune had Alastor guiding you through a foxtrot, Alabama Slide. The piano was all they could allow but it was good enough for the various couples taking to the open space.

Your right hand in his left, his hand on your back and yours on his shoulder, you moved. Alastor walked forward and you walked back, a turn and you switched your direction. The embrace was arguably everyone’s favorite part of the foxtrot. You had to be close, and you had a good excuse for it. As you turned the edge of your dress slid across your shins just below your knees, free and loose. The bare shoulders were a little cold for the changing weather but it made you feel unrestrained. Your coat was nearby if you felt a draft in the buried first floor Mimzy called a bar.

Maybe it really would be okay. You’d trusted him so thoroughly so far and Alastor never failed to put you first. If he wasn’t worried, and he truly wasn’t, then maybe you could settle into a comfortable (if still trepidatious) relaxation. When you looked up at Alastor, body pressed into body, you felt small. But again, not in the diminutive sense like some men happily made women. Small in the sense that he could hold you so securely with such ease.

Your focus shifted to where your hands touched him. Skin on skin in one hand, your fingers just below his collar on his upper back on the other hand. The fabric was cool to the touch. But as your fingers lingered the heat of his body began to bloom through the weave. A blossoming of your own, cheeks tingling pinker. Touch for touch’s sake. No dance to give an illusion of need. You could do more with each other, and that lack of barrier between you two made even a hand in public seem like polite restraint. You knew his appetites now well enough to know what he needed; the excited intimacy of witnessing his worst compulsions and the ease with which touch could replace difficult to articulate words for him. His need to please, to be needed without seeming needy, also spurred him on. But less and less did you see that motivation pushing hungry touches past heavy petting.

A little jolt of excitement shook up his arm, imperceivable to your hand.

The difference a bathroom door makes to how much touch felt like scandal was astonishing. The things he felt compelled to do to you in dance halls was thrilling, and yet now, he felt bare under the dim glow of the illicit bar. You felt different than before. He was suddenly embarrassed to remember he dragged you into a bathroom once, but then he remembered how you inspired his hunger and his skin warmed from his neck down. He could taste you in a crowded place with only a piece of wood between you both and a crowd, but dancing so closely with the eyes of arguably his closest friend on him was making him uncharacteristically bashful.

He opened his mouth to speak but played it off, instead licking his lips and turning you both again as the modest crowd spun around.

Since he cried so openly into your lap, this was your first time in public with him. Was that why you felt different? He tried to find a word for it but failed. He’d touched you many times, his smirk couldn’t stop itself but he managed to keep it pulled to the left, but now it felt like the first time.

A first date. A first dance. He worried about how heavy his hand was on your back, how sweaty his palm was pressed against yours. There was a worry he could feel at the bottom of his spine, a little itchy thread of wool wrapped around his lower vertebrae. Would you become bored now?

The excitement would be gone with Brady, he feared. Things could be normal, and then you’d see once the blood was washed away and the trunk was empty he was just a man. What good was a man to you?

He shifted and let you be the one to walk forward while he walked backwards blindly. He needed to step with confidence in your direction to keep the dance graceful and effortless.

When he looked down at you, you were watching closely behind him. You were focused. And then your eyes flitted back to his and your brow unfurrowed and he watched the shoddy overhead lights sparkle in your stare. The moon could only wish to ever reflect light with such a brilliant clarity.

He didn’t notice the music had stopped, the piano player flipping pages to find the next tune. You had to tap the shoulder to get his attention back to the room.

Alastor wondered if songs had always been so short. He gestured to the bar again, where his drink was still waiting. He needed a little more lubrication, just enough to drown the butterflies.

You asked Mimzy if she had rum, and she confirmed she had brown liquor. That wasn’t what you asked, but you just nodded. As you scanned the room, you noticed some people entering from a double door past the dance floor and the piano. A mixed race couple lowered their head as they came down the wide stairs that were maybe half as tall as the ones you came down before. Their hands tightly laced, they joined a group already settled at a table.

“… it’s nice you let everyone in here, Mimzy.” You said it softly, not necessarily to her just a sentiment you felt the need to express.

Her eyes shot up and followed the direction you were looking, “Their money's green ain’t it?” She half assed a glass cleaning before pouring the ‘rum’, “Only color I care about.”

You hummed before tilting your head to the double doors, “What's back there?”

“That leads to the backdoor. When I can’t bring people in through the front doors or they’re too drunk,” she paused to glare at Alastor, “to walk through the dining hall.”

Alastor’s posture was perfect as he sipped the drink. He’d only been pushed out through the secret door once before which seemed a reasonable number given Mimzy’s heavy handed pours.

His mind wandered to Brady again, with much annoyance. The way he had smiled when he first appeared on his property. It was a smile that darkened the edges of Alastor’s vision, until all he could see was shining teeth.

“Have you ever met someone whose smile just feels sinister. Nothing behind it, just teeth.” He mused.

“That’s how most people smile.”

“Mimz, that’s not what I mean—-“, Alastor’s hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Ugh I hate you flowery men with your secret meanings. My beau just says what he means and we’re peachy!”

“Simple.” Alastor exhaled through his nose.

“Exactly!” Mimzy didn't notice the insult.

It was admittedly what he liked about her. He could unwind and relax without worrying too much, as she never dug deeper than the topsoil.

“Let me speak more plainly, when a wolf bears its teeth do you call it a smile?” Alastor asked the ether.

Mimzy was stumped, a little huh escaping her perfectly colored lips. That was less plain to her. Alastor gave her a pat on the hand and offered you another dance.

A cycle of hooch and dance, until you were happy to sway with the room against Alastor’s chest. The butterflies were still, and he could let his head rest atop of yours. How many more nights could he have like that?

You let your vision wander around the room. The bar was quite nice for a speakeasy. The floor was a pretty vinyl. The tables were few but looked like nice sturdy dark wood.

The walls had posters of singers and ads for cigarettes very lowly lit by small flower shaped sconces.

A loud bang above your heads stopped you, nearly everyone looking up at the ceiling. Someone had to hit the piano man on the back to silence him.

Another bang and a series of scuffles before a loud knock came to the hidden door most of you had taken down to the bar.

“Cheese it or get pinched!” Mimzy crawled over the bar and led the charge for the double doors. You and Alastor had barely turned your bodies before the door above the stairs flew open and the light flooded down to the small room.

You felt hands on your back pushing you through the doors before Mimzy was grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to the right. Your coat was in your hands as someone passed them around in the dark and you put it on out of instinct. Well, you were somewhat sure it was your coat.

Looking over your shoulder you saw the doors shut as the men began tying the handles together with their ties. It was dark now with the doors shut, you couldn’t see where your man was in the mix. You were being swept up in the half a dozen or so women rushing to something on the wall.

“Alastor!” You turned back but Mimzy grabbed your wrist and tugged. “We can’t leave him!” Her hand gripped your shoulder and head and pushed you down to make you crouch. A faint light came in before leaving again. Then again. There was some kind of door a few feet up the wall.

“Leaving the men behind is our right!” She said.

“The only perk.” A stranger giggled. Their mood was mischievous despite the sounds of cops hitting against the double doors.

“Not the only perk.” Someone laughed before a hand in the dark found your shoulder and pushed you down a little further. “Out the little hole ya go.”

You stumbled, shoe catching up the square cut out lip. Another woman helped you keep upright until you were free. You watched the others all emerge from the same place you had — what looked like the exit of a trash shoot. But it was lower than usual, and cleaner. And also obviously not a trash chute once you’d seen it from the inside. Looking around, you realized you were in an alley that ran along the right side of the restaurant. You could hear the water and the bugs that always lingered there coming from behind you. There was a slope to the ground beneath your feet that rose up to meet the road you met Alastor on before.

“Scatter, you idiot!”

“How do we find the men later?”

“They find us, at home or back here next week.”

You ran toward the back side of the building, where the hill sloped down. The bar is going to flood with the first hurricane, you thought as you felt the slick pavement beneath your shoes. The river was so close.

Finding you wasn’t really going to work unless you met at the car. You just pressed your back flush to the wall of the neighboring building and waited. You couldn’t stand the idea of just hoping he made it out. Sure enough, some men flew past and you managed to snag the arm of yours. It was easy to see which one was Alastor in the rush, his height paired with his complexion made him stand out.

He turned back with his free arm cocked but realized it was you. “I almost decked you!” A kiss instead of a fist, his smile not leaving even through the peck. “Come on, to the river.”

Another tugging of the arm as you were taken to the edge of the hill and began sliding down as you tried to get down it. Your heel was flatter than you would normally wear and slid down the hill easily instead of getting caught in the ground.

“Why?!”

“No ligh-,” the word ended in a small yelp as the slick grass and fallen leaves won out, his shoe losing its grip and him slipping down the hillside on his ass. You were shortly behind. The moisture immediately soaked through and you felt your ass and thighs become cool with the wetness.

With an oof you came to a stop against his back. “Shhh,” he pulled you down by the ankles until you were neatly pressed into his side and your dress lifted a little too high up your thighs.

Your fingers pulled up the end of his coat, showing him a tear. A rock must have snagged it as he slid down the bank, you whispered. You presented it like you’d found a dead bird on the porch.

His hand’s weight came to settle on yours and pushed both them and the offending rip back down. He didn’t care. Evident in the sincere and calm smile he gave you. A giddiness in his eyes the only tell that his heart was pounding. Alastor let his back rest against the sharp slope of the hill to escape the full reach of the warm street lamp’s glow and you followed.

In that silence between you was something else you didn’t recognize until it fully materialized; safety. It’d visited you in fleeting moments through life, but in that moment it’d come to settle like a rock. Unlike the one who tore his precious coat, any sharpness was hand chiseled by Alastor, surely.

Alastor flourished in the tension before a kiss. An anticipation mirrored in the moments before the killing blow. The will he or won’t he in the other person's eyes. Daisies had fields and water lillies had still waters and Alastor had prescience. You often robbed him of his arena with your unpredictable nature, but that was, as people said, the zest of life.

Except right now. Now you let him have his slow lean towards you.

As he got closer the question moved from will he to where will he?

Just beside your ear, close enough that his breath made you shiver. Alastor deeply enjoyed the ways he could make people’s bodies respond to him.

But then a light shone down onto the crowns of your heads and interrupted the fun. Alastor squinting to try and see past it.

“You again? Geez…you’re becoming a nuisance. Get a room, sir.” The cop shouted down the incline. “And have a little more self respect, miss.”

You moved to sit up and shout back at the man about respect but Alastor’s hand came to set on your arm.

“Thank you officer!” He nodded away the cop’s look of disapproval and waited for him to go back to looking for the box’s patrons.

“Do you think it’s him who sent the raids?” You asked when the cop was out of sight, “My former fella.”

Alastor shook his head no, “Mimzy’s had three bars raided. This was definitely just a consequence of her loose lips.”

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

When you made it home and did away with your coats, Alastor poured you both a nightcap. You were leaning against the back patio railing when set down the glasses and pulled you into a hug.

“I should apologize for always magically summoning the police.” He beamed, all charm. “How should I show you? A good cuddle?” His nose knocked softly against yours as he teased another kiss. You could tell by his smile you’d be swept away if you let him continue.

“No, nope. I’m not letting you distract me any longer.” You pushed him away with both hands and made a beeline inside for the kitchen. He leaned back to watch you through the screen door.

You stretched up and over the counters, pulling out a small vase he forgot he had, and grabbed the paper bag from beneath the table. He could only see your back as you fiddled with it on the table before marching to the sitting room. Taking a few steps forward, he could see you through the window now as you unsleeved a record and inspected both sides before setting it down and lifting the arm to place the needle.

A trumpet played and buzzed through the speaker. As a song he didn’t know began to play he turned back to see you at the screen door with your little vase of flowers.

Alastor was taken aback. A new sight. A new thing to dream about. You in the glow of the dim kitchen light, it bouncing off the back of your silhouette as you looked at him like a shark was in your tub; unnecessarily scared.

Music drifted through the open window to his right. Extending his arm, he beckoned you to him.

Lead feet made you nearly trip with your first step.

Your hands were trembling as they gripped the glass and brought the flowers up.

“What's all this?” a little nervous laugh as he looked down at the bouquet you fussed over at the shop just some hours before. How many hours exactly was lost to the bootleg hooch. “Red Tulips. Wild roses. Daisies.” you pointed them out just how the shop attendant had for you, “And cornflower.”

Alaster smiled over them and then back to you.

“For you.” You lifted them just a tad higher.

“Oh!” He cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants before gingerly taking them from you. “That happy I didn’t kill him?” Alastor joked, knowing you had to have gotten them before you learned of the newest developments.

Your throat was closing. Well, it felt like it was.

Looking up, there he was. As brilliant as in the sun, dim light casting sharp shadows across his face as he brought the bouquet up to his nose. The light passed over his glasses as he did so, and when his eyes flitted back up they looked over the rims and down to you. Your heart skipped a beat as a new rhythm took it by surprise.

“And the– I heard it. This song. And I thought you'd like it. So.” You fidgeted, tapping the back of one shoe with the toebox of the other, “I got it for you. As a gift. It’s pretty new, by Ozzie Nelson, whoever that is.” He laughed at your flippant description.

His head turned slightly to the sound before setting the flowers on the porch banister. The speaker popped a little with the tune.

Stars shining bright above you.

He put his hands out to ask you to dance, and you eagerly took up the offer. It bought you a little time. While you danced, you could think.

Nightbreezes seem to whisper I love you.

Fuck.

Say nighty night and kiss me.

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

While I'm alone and as blue as can be.

Alastor wasn’t listening as intently as you were. His palms could feel you beneath your dress, feel the shape of your hips as you lazily swayed together to the song.

When had he last received a gift, he wondered as you chewed on your bottom lip. He couldn’t remember. His swaying slowed as he reached back into his memories. No, he really couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a present. Had anyone ever given him flowers?

No.

He was brought back to the moment when you leaned forward, pressing your cheek against his collar bone. He shook away the thought and resumed the slow move from left to right. Your feet did little steps in the same direction. It was dancing enough for you both. The porch wasn’t exactly conducive to a lively foxtrot and your tipsy body wasn’t up for the turns.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss.

I'm longing to linger til dawn, dear.

What time was it, you wondered. Was it almost time for the sun to rise? No, it couldn’t be. Would it be more romantic to wait for that? That was what people liked in these moments, special light.

You were overthinking it, looking for an excuse to delay it.

Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you.

“And what's the occasion? I’m the one who owes you flowers.”

His chest rumbled and you inhaled the scent of him. What if you said it and you never got to get this close again?

What was the better world to live in…The one where he was yours, or the one where he knew he was loved?

Dream a little dream of me.

It was too much to bear. The feeling was crowding your chest and stealing your air. Obviously the better world was the latter, and now you were holding up its descent. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer or the words themselves would slice through your throat. The song ended and the speakers popped as the record finished its rotation.

Like a wolf showing its neck you filled the silence with vulnerability, “You know I love you, right?” You couldn’t muster the courage to look at him. The entire world was spinning but the swaying stopped. “It bears repeating, so, listen up. I’ll always meet you where you are. Don’t go feeling around in the dark for me. I’ll find you, I’ll wait around the nearest corner or in the car or wherever. Because I love you. Terribly. Against my will.” You swallowed hard but your mouth was dry, “Now and forever.” What a terribly uncomfortable thing to say, what a horridly sensitive wound to inflict on yourself. A fresh expanse of exposed nerves and muscles.

A practiced author would call it a whirlwind romance, but that didn’t capture the violence that tangled you two together. A maelstrom love.

He didn’t say it back. He didn’t say anything at all. His eyes were heavy as he brought your knuckles to his mouth and kissed each one. That didn’t sting or alarm you. You hadn’t said it to hear it back. This wasn’t a token slid to him for anything in return this time. You said it to make sure he knew. If anything, you hadn’t really expected the sentiment to be returned. Because it hadn’t ever been about you, love apparently never was.

Alastor was too scared to speak, too overwhelmed to reply. You’d said it first, atleast, you’d said it thinking you had. A weakness came over his muscles and for a flash he thought he'd go weak in the knees. But what you said stirred a fire in his chest and he didn’t know what to do with it. Too many words crowded in his guts and choked at the stop gap that was his own throat. Words were, as they rarely were for him, useless. So his hands slipped down your body, then back up, and he found your cheeks despite his eyes still hiding in the shadow of his lashes. He leaned down to meet your lips and pressed into them. Chaste, as if neither of you had ever kissed anyone before. He hoped at that moment he’d never have to kiss anyone again.

No, he decided at that moment he never would. A relief. A heavy load he could set down. You felt the little self assured smile against your mouth.

He needed to move, fresh electrical impulses twitching down his spine and igniting that little wool string of fear. So he took a few steps backward, bringing you with him, and let his hands cage you into more desperate kisses as his back pressed into the wall. The passion was mounting with every return, his tongue willing your mouth open so he could retreat into the honesty of your body. Pulling away, you took his face in your hands too.

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, feeling his hips move to grind up into you. He nodded, his smile small and tight. His lips were barely visible. “You know you don’t have to, right? You don’t owe me anything. My love isn’t….there are no strings attached.” He nodded again. His eyes were shining, the light of the kitchen giving them a comforting and golden band. Were they wet or just bright? “Do you want to …talk?”

His smile widened, and he shook his head no.

“Then we won’t talk.”

The expression on his face was enough for you. His eyes soft and half lidded, pupils blown. You never knew what he saw when he looked at you like that, but you knew you wanted to be whoever it was. The corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly with his smile, which was pure and sweet. He was happy, and that was all you’d wanted. All of it in your hands. No fireworks, barely a moon above you both.

You’d really not wanted to mingle the words with the actions. But Alastor’s assurance reminded you that you weren’t alone in the situation. Maybe for him they were already entangled together. Maybe he wanted them to be. You stopped acting as a monolith long ago, whether you had felt comfortable admitting that until that moment or not.

He dropped slowly down to his knees, you following with your mouth on his. With a crawl, he leaned forward and you leaned back until you were lying down.

It wasn’t quite as deep as that for him, instead acting on instinct with the magnets in his fingertips unable to break the pull and separate from your skin any longer. He was going to find out now, for the first time, if he could feel love. Could he translate it from his mouth through your skin, words unspoken still? The gasp you made when he licked up your neck made him confident he was saying something. He didn’t want to get off in that moment, nothing about you was screaming sex, but there was no earthly method he could express the way your confession made him feel. He needed you close. He needed you closer than anyone had ever been, and your words had already pulled him skin deep. Perhaps now, in this moment, if he had sex with you he’d find an unseen depth of comfort in your embrace than he’d felt before. A new level of connection for him to feel held by.

People had said they loved him before, but it was just words. It was the next thing to say before I do and it's a boy! They had loved well pressed clothes and a shiny smile, quick fingers over keys and a pretty voice. Such love was nothing short of tissue paper wrapped around a gift he didn't want; a promise of a boring and hidden life.

He wondered why you always told him to not seek you out. He had no plans on leaving, and if he ever lost you in the crowd like he had tonight, he’d still wander around for you. It was a silly request. You might as well ask him to not kiss your forehead before sitting on the sofa beside you or to not smile when you smiled.

So clever but so naive.

Please.

His nose nuzzled behind your ear, a voiceless whisper. His hands were scratching down your thighs and over your stockings, surely snagging the delicate weave.

Closer.

Hastily you rolled them down and did the same with your panties, Alastor seemingly too focused on gathering as much of your body into his arms as he could physically manage. You gasped when two firm hands slipped under you and pulled your ass off the porch to press up into his core.

Alastor drew his knees forward to kneel, dragging you up into his lap by the hips. Back bending, you looked up wordlessly as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“It’s cold.” You whispered, no hint of wanting him to stop but genuinely concerned for his comfort.

I’ll make it warm reverbrated across time, a little changed but the promise still intact that Alastor would heat up the cold with embraces, sexual and otherwise.

“Oh!” You squeaked, realizing this was your cue to start undressing too. You ignored the burning in your thighs at the position and reached for your own buttons, a long line down the back meant for women with husbands as it was impossible to do up alone.

As he leaned over you and hot palms slid up your arched back, his face came close to yours. No scared deer in the headlights. He looked much more self assured than something built to flee.

Ah.

Right.

An image of clashing antlers and the ringing crack they produced blocked out your second squeak as you were pulled up to be chest to chest. Arms snaking around his neck you held on tightly as he worked on the buttons for you.

His chin rested on the taut muscle that connected neck and shoulder, breaths even and hot slipping down between the skin of your back and dress as the clothing loosened under his grip.

A flutter of nerves filled you both. The space between romance and sex was always a no man’s land for you two. You preferred to rush through to the act, and Alastor struggled with transitioning loving touches to wanton ones.

But you didn’t feel that awkward gap now. Alastor seemed very confident in his movements, marching across that space to take you from love to lover.

He couldn’t see your smile as he undid the dress. This was a good answer, you thought. This didn’t feel like him pushing to give you what he expected, like he had always done with the others. It felt, very honestly, like someone wanting to do the dreaded thing you always avoided; make love. You couldn’t say you had ever thought what made fucking and love making different, you just knew you hadn’t cared for mixing sex with emotion. But this was all emotion now. An act of surrender for you, an act of commitment from him. A deep slow breath to steady yourself. You’d give him whatever he wanted and needed. And if that was more than you’d managed before, you’d find a way to be more than you had been. You could still be yourself. Just…a little extra. For him. When he pleaded so sincerely.

You rose on your knees to lift your center from his lap, allowing him the space to undo his belt and free himself from his pants. His hands moved under the curtain of your dress and you kept your eyes on the wall behind him. Looking him in the eyes would happen, you knew that, but you weren’t ready to get stuck in his stare just yet.

Clinging on to his shoulders you worked together to lower yourself back down, a slow seating down onto his member. You swallowed a gasp and let your body weight fully settle. An ache radiated from deep within you as he bottomed out and then pressed further with your relaxed form giving way. His hands slipped up your back and held onto your shoulders, face pressed into your neck and tickling you with every breath.

Your body pressed tightly against his, you found the space to lift up and drop. Reluctantly, Alastor loosened his grip to allow you more freedom of movement. Just enough you could get more height and not an inch more.

The burn in your thighs and the sting of your knees digging into the old wood patio quickly fought for your focus. But then your riding produced rewards, Alastor’s breath coming out ragged and weak. His own little gasps each time you took him back in fully escaped to your pleasure. You were warm and clinging, inside and out, and Alastor found the base of his skull beginning to feel fuzzy. All that lightning was now in his lap and leaving his mind to go slack as if in a tepid bath. He liked this part, where things could go quiet internally except for the most basic of senses: touch. You were all around him, and that was satisfying him so completely he worried he’d run out of things to seek out in life. A small worry that came and went as quickly as your hips began to move. Fast and even.

He could say with confidence you hugged him in a loving embrace and it let his body relax into the moment. The gasps and dryness of his lips went unnoticed by him. But not you, if you closed your eyes all you could hear was his breathing. Instinctively your arms tightened until you were holding his head to you. Sex with Alastor never felt like being fucked. Like being used as some sleeve for a man. You always felt like you were receiving much more from him, never like you were giving. Except now, with how his lips left lazy open mouth kisses on your collar bone, it felt like you were providing him with something.

Alastor pulled away and you slowed before stopping in response. The part you knew would come, because you knew Alastor. Both hands took your face for a proper kiss. His lips stuck a little to yours, but he licked them and tried again. Such a slow kiss for the occasion, passion could be languid when you had the time for it. And you had nothing but time now. That was what you promised him when you confessed, to be there through time now and ever.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. This was intimacy, this was what existed between you both as something was communicated from his eyes to yours. The instinct to look away was clawing at you but you fought it. His eyes were so beautiful, even in the dark. That was how you first saw them, in the dark of an alleyway.

Without warning he broke the longing look and kissed you again.

Forever, you’d said. And Alastor held those words as tightly as he held you now. Forever was all that he needed.

His tongue roamed around your mouth hungrily.

Closer.

Your own hands held tightly to his head as he leaned forward. Gently, his kiss slowing as he focused on setting you down on the porch, you were returned to your back. It took strength to do it so smoothly, that hidden muscle that betrayed his slender frame.

Letting him take the lead was easy, in that moment every move dripped with an arousing confidence. The sweet gasps melted into tiny grunts that made you clench around him, the kiss breaking with his thrusts.

His belt was cold, hitting against the top of your ass with every slap of his hips. You used the heel of your shoe to try and push his pants down further but didn’t get far. You whispered a ‘fuck it’ and let your legs hug onto him.

A rain of ‘please’ fell from your mouth, begging him to maintain that strong even pace but also praying he’d finish inside this time. You wanted that liquid heat pooling in your guts.

Alastor wanted to kiss you more, but he knew better than to interrupt his rhythm. He wanted to feel you spasming around his cock, feel your body tighten and go stock still under him.

Maybe he imagined it, maybe it was your slight embarrassed blushing, but you did feel different. He could have sworn you felt warm, softer. He felt he was getting lost in your touch like someone losing their way in the safety of a well maintained park. No danger, but no idea where he was or what he was really doing there. But it was lovely. That midsummer day glow and warmth you could only enjoy in the shade of tall trees.

There he was again, mind wandering with flashes of beautiful places and sensations as his muscles began to tire.

You bit your lip and tensed your core to help along the rising pressure. Fingers raked down his scalp and neck as you crossed the peak and came on his slowing cock.

A second was given to you to come down before he began his own finish.

It didn’t take long for his hips to go weak and for him to lose his rhythm. Apart from you, the sensation of a wet and writhing organ against his slit was vaguely alien and gross. But your twitching insides was a trophy he was always eager to earn. He had to lean back which meant your chest making contact with the cold air that filled the void. His handkerchief was quickly pulled from his chest pocket and brought to his cock as he managed to hold off cumming until he was safely free of you. It worked poorly, semen leaking through the threads and sticking to his hand. He hissed but wiped his hand clean the best he could on the handkerchief’s edges.

Alastor leaned over and kissed your cheek, and then your nose, and then because he felt the compulsion, your already kiss swollen lips. When he moved his head to carry on down your collar bone you unclenched your eyes. You could see the flowers above your head on the banister.

You remembered reading The Language of Flowers poster to the florist as you chose your bouquet. When she pointed out each one to you, you repeated the meanings in your head.

“Red tulips,”

I declare my love.

“Wild Roses,”

I love you truly.

“Daisies,”

Pain and Pleasure.

“And, lastly,” the shopkeeper sounded sentimental as she gestured to the blue petals, “Cornflower.”

Be gentle with me.

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