#And Al knows he has it - why he had to get a new coat for the first time in ages because of it! - but he’s never tried to take it back

[teamfortresstwo]

Love picturing Vox being comforted by things that remind him of Alastor

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Like a deer in headlight ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : After finding out that Alastor indeed had ears atop his head, it was now time for round two of your game - his deer tail.

Pairing : Alastor x Reader

Word count : 3313 Words

Genre : Fluff, Suggestive(?)

Warnings ➵ Possessive and out of character Alastor,

he accidentally hurts and scares Reader

a/n : Continuation of my Alastor x Reader story, > Deer in headlight < , got asked for this by a few people, so here ya'll go! Hope it's as good as the first one!♡

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

It had been a week since you had discovered Alastor's ears and he had let you touch them for the first time. Sneaking on him a few times to caress or play with them, maybe even a little tug or kiss to them when none of the others were looking. The relationship between you two also changed to something different, you couldn't exactly put a name to it, but it was more than friends, but definitely less than lovers. It confused you. Alastor confused you. Once he is nice to you, cooks you dinner, and lets you play with his ears while he writes a new script, the next time he rather distances himself from you, makes jokes here and there as if he himself didn't know what to do nor how to act.

The others also had picked up on the change between you two, Angel was teasing you about it a lot, Husker just warned you to be careful, Niffty was herself like always and Charlie was super happy about how close you two seemed to have gotten now.

So now to your new mission at hand, round two of your self-proclaimed game. Figure out if Alastor has a tail and if yes, get around to touch it! But this time it seemed to be harder than before, Alastor had his guard up a lot around you now, even when he let you play with his ears. Every time your hand wanders away from his ears down to try and peak under his coat, his hand either guides yours back up to his head or he entirely gets up and leaves, making sure you cannot find out if he has a fluffy little tail.

So now you were sitting at the bar, head resting on the counter as Husker slid your favorite drink over to you. "No look yet huh sweets? Was surprised you even got around to touching his ears without injuries." Angel now sat down beside you, softly patting your back as you let out a tired groan. "I just don't get it! I mean he saw that in the it wasn't that bad when I touched his ears! So why is it so bad now if I figure out if he has a tail too!" Pouting, you sit up a bit now taking a sip from your glass. "Maybe he doesn't have one, none of us ever saw one at least. Or maybe if he has one it's a different feeling for him than his ears?" Husker was cleaning a glass now as he spoke to you. Maybe he was right but.. you really wanted to know if he had a cute matching tail. Eyes going around the foyer now as you notice Alastor making his way up the stairs.

"Al! Wait up!" Jumping down from the barstool to follow him up the stairs, he waited for you on the stairs before walking up beside you. Eyes glancing over to him, he looked calm as always, his signature smile adorning his face, staff clutched in one hand as he walked alongside you. "How can I help you today dear?" Looking over at him now, you simply followed him to where he was going. "Are you doing a broadcast today? May I listen again?" Raising an eyebrow slightly Alastor looks over to you, nodding in agreement as he leads you to his radio tower. Over the last week, you had listened to his broadcast live two times already, which made you happy that he allowed you to join him. Opening the door for you, you enter first as you immediately take a seat at the table, Alastor had put up a second chair for you. Still, you noticed how his eyes had a glimmer of suspicion at how you suddenly wanted to listen in today.

Waiting for him to start the broadcast, your head was leaning on your hand as you watched Alastor with a smile. Suddenly an idea came into your head, trying to suppress the grin that was threatening to grow on your face. Alastor was focused on his broadcast, talking about something you weren't even listening to anymore. Reaching your hand over now, your fingertips softly graze his ears, as Alastor lets out a surprised yet quiet yelp, before turning his head to you with a warning glare. Returning his gaze with a smirk now, as you stand up from your seat and slowly walk over to him, he was glaring at you now. You were so close to fucking up, but this was a chance. Reaching your hand out to the back of his coat to pull it up. Quickly the > On Air < sign switched up, as Alastor grabbed your wrist in a rather right grip. Turning his head to you now, his antlers had grown in size, a red X on his forehead, and eyes turned to dials. You definitely fucked up now.

"D̷̢͙̟̼̘̊̒̑͑͝ë̸͇͍͓̲͇͂̾̓͝a̴͙̻̞̫̞̾̑̈́͑̕r̸̖͎̼̳͍̀̉̌̉̒ ̶̜͉̦͔̒̋̌̒̕ͅw̵̛̲̭̰̼͒̑̎͝ͅh̴͚̮̬̜̔̉͗̀̅ͅa̴̭͖͍̩̣͐̀̇͂̿ţ̷̛̪̣̥͓̓̆̕͠ ̴̢͓͓͙̯̂̀͋̀͘w̵̘̣̫͚͛̋͛̊͠ͅë̴̢̡̛̥̦͇́̄̉̈ř̶͓̜̗̻̓̊̐͘ͅẽ̷̮̻͈͕͎̓̌͐̈ ̵̠̝̫̺̲̑́̍̈́̈́ÿ̴̳̩͍͎̙́̌́̿̈́o̶̰̭͎͈̣̅͛͑̌͘u̶̢̝̥̞̪͋́̒̎͝r̶ ̵͕͉̫̻̤̎̐̋̾͘į̴͕͈̮̅̎̈́̀̌ͅn̸̠̳̮̤̻͆͛̔̎͋t̸̖̻̲̘̭̐̎̂̏̕e̵̞͎͎̭̗̓̍̓̉̈́n̶̬͈͎̤͉̈́̈́̈́̇̾ţ̶̱͓̥̲̅̔͋̀̚i̶̡̲͕̤̩̒̏͐̈́͝ǒ̷̗̰̯̩̻́̔̄́n̸̡̧̞̩̥̔͆̎͆̅s̵̪̣̱͔̎͒́̽͠ͅ ̷̝͍͈̥͌͂̿̏͘ͅr̶̹͚̦͉̞̈́̈́͂̋̀i̶̡̨̛͉͇͇̾͐͊̍g̸̨̛͉͎̰̖͋̒͒̓h̴̜̫͕̪͊͊̈́͝͠ͅt̷͉̳̩̰̜͗̈́̓̽̒ ̴̨̬̱̰̠̒͂̍́̏n̸̬͍̬̣̗̿̃̅́͑ǫ̸̠̰̈̊͌͗̚͜͜w̴̜̓́̎͗͆��̧̖ͅ?̴̠̖̯̤͚̓̀̎̂͆"

Gulping once, you try to pull your arm back from his grip, which just makes him tighten it. Hissing lowly, you squeeze your eyes shut, it was slowly stinging a bit from how tight his grip was. "Al.. You're hurting me!" Alastor finally turned back to himself, letting go of your red wrist now, a print of his fingers visible as you cradled your hand against your chest. "I'm going to leave for now.." Head down as you hurriedly leave the room, closing the door behind you as you dart for your room, ignoring Angel's calls who just walked past you. Throwing yourself on your bed now, you looked at your wrist scared now. He had never used his demon form for you, there was no way of denying that he had scared you. Closing your eyes to push away the tears that were slowly building up in your eyes, as your consciousness drifts away.

"Dear, wake up." A hand on your shoulder was softly shaking you awake, lifting your head to take in your surroundings before meeting Alastor's eyes. Sitting up quickly, you scoot a bit away from him as you watch him with wide eyes. "Alastor..! What are you doing in my room?" Watching him now, as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, making sure to not make you any more uncomfortable by getting too close to you. "I'm sorry about back there, I lost it a bit, I shouldn't have." Despite smiling, you noticed that Alastor was genuinely apologizing to you. "I'm sorry, I crossed a line there, I used your trust in me listening to your broadcast live, I'm truly sorry." Laying your hand near his own carefully, letting him decide if he wants to be touched right now. Looking down, he softly takes your hand, as he presses a kiss against the red fingerprints he had left behind. His eyes were closed right now as his lips linger a second longer than they usually do. "I'll make it up to you, I promise." Raising to his feet now, he gave you a soft smile, before leaving you stunned in your room.

Laying back down against your pillows, your gaze was on the ceiling as your cheeks became a soft shade of red. What was he thinking? Turning onto your side now as you hug your pillow against your chest, looking to where Alastor sat just a few minutes prior.

The next day arrives, as you make your way down the stairs to the others. Charlie was right now explaining something to Angel and Husker, hyper as always. Vaggie was simply sitting on one of the couches with a book right now, while Alastor was nowhere to be seen. "Hey Vaggie, have you seen Alastor?" Leaning over the back of the couch now so the girl could see you as she looks over to you. "He went out rather early today, saying something about Overlords meeting and visiting a friend in Cannibal Town." Raising your eyebrows slightly at that, friend in Cannibal Town? Definitely Rosie. He probably decided to tag along with her a bit after the meeting, as she was also an Overlord. Thanking Vaggie, you go over to the other three to let Vaggie read her book in peace.

"Okay and then when Heaven agrees we could- Oh good morning!" Waving to you immediately now as Charlie noticed you coming over. Greeting them all with a smile and good morning now before Charlie starts to ramble on about her plans. It was nice seeing such a hyper and happy girl in hell, it was definitely a change to how people normally were down here.

"By the way sweets, would you mind tagging along to the city today? I wanted to go visit some clothing stores you would definitely like!" Angel laid his hand on your shoulder now as he asked you, before even thinking you agreed. It had been a while since you had last been to the part of Pentagram City where all the clothing stores were located. Besides Alastor isn't here today to try any of your attempts to see his tail nor to play with his ears. After quickly getting changed, Angel led you to the stores he was talking about. And he sure was right, you found so many good clothes to your liking in many different styles. One thing hell didn't lack was good fashion, probably thanks to Velvette from the Vees.

Leaving the store now with a lot of bags in hand, Angel decided to pull you to his favorite > cheap yet delicious < restaurant as he called it. While looking around a bit, you couldn't help but notice a certain red-haired demon walking down the streets, alongside Rosie, as their arms were hooked together, laughing. You knew they were simply good old friends, yet you couldn't do anything about this weird feeling bubbling up in your stomach. Reaching your hand out, you softly tug on Angel's shirt, head hung low. "What's it, sweets? Ya suddenly don't seem so good." His hand softly raised your chin now to look at you, noticing your pained expression. "Are ya hurt?" Taking a good look at you to make sure you weren't visibly hurt anywhere. Raising your head again, your eyes on the two other demons, Angel's eyes follow yours before letting out a sight.

"I know they're only friends but.. I feel weird seeing them I don't even know why myself!" The bag you were holding dropped to the ground, before hiding your face in your hands. "Sweets, if you ask me that sounds as if ya're jealous.." Angel's hand softly patting your head now as you raise your head, eyes meeting his. "But.. That would mean.. And he would never reciprocate.." Tears were building up in your eyes, before you knew it Angel pulled you into a comforting hug, softly patting your head. "It's going to be okay sweets." Staying there for a good minute or two, before you calmed down again. What you didn't see was a certain dial eyes watching you, as Angel had his arms around you and your body against his chest.

Deciding to head back to the hotel for now, Angel said he would take you to the restaurant another time. Back at the hotel you for now decided to head back to your room for a little rest. The shopping bag is thrown onto a chair before flopping down on your bed. A sigh leaves your lips. The last few days really weren't the best for you and were slowly wearing you down.

"Say dear, I thought we had a deal of you not touching others~" A radio static voice suddenly sounded through your room, sitting up you looked around frantically, eyes stopping on a dark corner of your room. Red eyes watching you, a shadow figure beside them grinning at you. Before you could know it, your body was pressed to the bed with Alastor on top of you. "W-What do you mean!? Angel was simply comforting me! Besides you were also all over Rosie!" Thrashing around now, as you try to push Alastor off of you, but he was simply too strong for you. "Oh, so you're jealous sweetheart? Was that payback then?" Alastor head was lowered as he whispered those words into your ear making your eyes grow wide. "He was comforting me because I was crying! Which I by the way was because of you!" Staring into your eyes now, Alastor was at a loss for words. You were crying? Because of him on top of that? Before he knew it, he watched your eyes fill with tears again daring to flow over. Now he had fucked up this time.. Again.

"D-Don't cry! Dearest I'm sorry." Scooting off of you now, he sits beside you not really knowing what to do, he never had to deal with someone besides Niffty crying. And Charlie, but that was a different story. Your hands rubbing over your eyes now, trying to get rid of the tears. Before you knew it, the culprit of your tears grabbed your hand, leading it to his head. Alastor wasn't great with words to comfort you, but this was his way of trying to comfort you after screwing up, which you deeply appreciated. Looking up at him now, eyes red from crying, as your hand starts to softly rub over his ears. "I meet up with Rosie to ask her for advice on what to get you as an apology for last time." Pulling out a little box from his coat now, he hands it to you. Sitting up, you take the red box from his hands, opening it slowly. Inside was a gold necklace with a red pendant in a tear shape. "It's beautiful.." You were at a loss for words right now, you didn't think he would get you something like this as an apology. "Let me put it on you dearest, turn around." Moving yourself now that your back is to him, you softly move any hair out of the way so he can put the necklace around your neck. Hand reaching down as you take the pendant between your fingers. "Thank-" Your words were interrupted by a soft kiss being pressed to your neck, but as you turned around, Alastor was gone, and only caught a glimpse of his shadow disappearing. Hand reaching to the place you had felt him kiss. Did you only imagine that? No, he definitely kissed your neck.

The next day you wanted to ask Alastor about it, but he was nowhere to be seen, as if he was avoiding you, which made you a little bit sad. Did he regret it?

Till now you also were not able to accomplish your victory in this little game. Making yourself question if you were ever going to figure out if he had a little deer tail. Turning around now, you caught a glimpse of red hair disappearing, making you dart right after him. So he truly was avoiding you! Before he could close his door, you put your foot between the door and the doorframe. "Open the door, I won't go away!" It took almost a whole minute for him to open the door, entering the room, the door is closed behind you. Crossing your arms in front of your chest now, you turn around to face Alastor now. "Are you avoiding me?" Static radio error. "Of course not dear! Why should I?" He was obviously more than nervous to be talking to you right now. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because since yesterday you've been running away from me and not shown your face once?" Looking at him skeptically now, he tried to look composed as always with his smile, but you noticed how his smile was slightly strained and his hand clenched just a bit tighter around his staff. "If this is about the kiss and you regret it just say it please, I won't be mad at you." Your eyes were avoiding his now. Oh if only you knew it was the complete opposite.

"Listen dear, it's not that.. It's.. How do I say, rather the opposite? I have been feeling rather drawn to you, wanting to get closer but.. I don't quite know how to handle these emotions." For once Alastor looked nervous, something you had never truly seen on him, he seemed so unsure. Holding out your hand, waiting for him to perhaps take it, which he did. Eyes locked on your hands, as he was softly playing with your fingers, slowly linking them together. "Listen it's okay, take as much time as you need to figure this out okay?" A soft smile was on your lips now, trying to reassure and calm him, but it had quite the opposite effect on him.

"May I kiss you?" Blurting those words out without even thinking about it, both of you were staring at each other with blown eyes now. You question yourself if you heard correctly and Alastor questions his sanity by asking you this, was he completely going crazy now? "If you want to, I allow you to do anything you want, I trust you." Now this surprised him, he indeed wanted to try this but.. he had never kissed anyone before. Not while alive, and certainly not while dead. Slowly his hand lays on your cheek as he pulls you closer to him, angling your head so you are looking at him. Your hands softly grab onto the front of his coat, eyes closed to give him full control. Alastor could either take his time or pull away entirely, it was all up to him, you let him go at his own pace.

And before he knew it, he was leaning down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. It felt different than he had imagined, it felt warm and comforting. It was a simple soft peck, nothing too spectacular, but for both of you, it was something special. When he pulled away again and you looked up into his eyes, you noticed movement behind him, your eyes lowering and noticing something moving under the backside of his coat. Eyes glancing with interest now, Alastor's eyes following yours to what you were looking at, a sigh leaving his lips. Before you knew it, Alastor was shrugging his coat off, his shadow hanging it somewhere in the room. And there it was, a fluffy deer tail, that was right now softly swishing from side to side, it was adorable. Alastor was a sight right now. His ears were pointed towards you, a blush over the bridge of his nose while his tail swished from side to side.

Reaching out your hand to touch his tail with sparking eyes, his hand stops yours as he watches you. "Once. It's different than my ears, one pat and that's it darling." Nodding in agreement, he turns around a bit as your hand softly pats over his tail once. It was soft just like his ears. Looking up with a smile now, his head was turned to the front, but his ears were turned to your direction, which looked super adorable. "Well since I was only allowed to pet your tail once, I would like to pat your ears again!" Smiling up at him innocently now, he exactly knew how this would end.

And he was correct, he was now lying on his bed with you, his head on your stomach as you were contentedly playing with his ears. Even though it would probably take a while till both of you knew how to call this relationship, you were more than happy that your one hand was busy patting his ears, and the other one was softly held by the red-haired man. You could get used to this.

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Taglist :

@mysticwitchcraftco @biromanticboba @yellowelectroslime

[love-at-first-sight-23]

Smile in the Dark- Alastor x Reader

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Plot: Alastor has never been in a true relationship with anyone, let alone the new and pretty hotel maid. But soon enough he finds he can’t wait to get his hands on you— and play a game of hide-and-seek while you’re at it.

Warnings: Smut, p in v, creampie, MDNI, slight fingering, cursing, fluff, possessive/controlling Alastor. Read at your own risk.

Alastor grinned at you from the doorway. He had asked you to come to his room that night, giving no clue as to what the invitation was for.

The two of you had known each other for months now. Ever since you had started working as a maid at the Hazbin Hotel, you had caught him staring at you once, then twice, then again. 

You remembered Vaggie’s words quite clearly—“Oh, don’t worry about Alastor. He’s just being a creepy ass as usual.” But somehow, the words didn’t quite catch. You found his demeanor charming, even intriguing. Always a gentleman— holding the door open for you, or complimenting your work. But always with an air of mystery, like an unsolved riddle. There was more to the sinner than met the eye.

Over time, you found yourself liking him more and more. After repeated interactions, you had finally asked him on a date. 

He was rather reluctant at first— the deer demon was not known for being the romantic type. But out of courtesy or an unexpected soft spot for you, you didn’t know, he had been sweet the entire time. Now you were, unofficially, dating.

“Good evening, my darling,” Alastor greeted you as you walked up to him.

“Evening, Alastor. Why did you call me here?” you asked. Alastor only chuckled.

“You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?” Without another word he steered you into the room, hand gripping your shoulder firmly. 

The dark red and black atmosphere immediately enveloped you, and the carved deer on the bedposts glared down at you through the dim glow. 

It didn’t intimidate you, though. It only reminded you of Alastor, who you were comfortable with already.

Suddenly, the lights were switched off, leaving you in complete darkness. “Alastor…?” you said, a bit uncertainly.

“Afraid of the dark, are we, now? I only want to play a little game,” Alastor leered from the darkness. You could just make out his sinister glowing grin in front of you.

Without warning, you were whisked onto the bed, legs already being spread on the mattress. You tried to gasp out something, but a finger was placed over your mouth.

“Trust me, dear. It will be more fun this way.” You felt yourself getting wet at these words. Turns out Alastor was more than just a gentleman— he was a lustful one. Your clothes disappeared in a snap, and a pair of lips were locked on your neck, sucking down on your delicate skin. Alastor’s hand made repetitive circles on your clit. You gasped at the sudden sensation, head tilting back.

Completely helpless in the dark, all you could do was anticipate what the radio demon would do next. His finger dipped inside, curling expertly and grazing your g-spot.

“Al-“ you gasped.

“Sh— quiet down and be a good little slut for me, shall we?” You obliged, little sounds escaping your mouth as his motions increased in intensity. You clutched at his chest, wishing you could see his face. As if he could read your mind, he sneered at you.

“If you want to see me, you have to be a good girl first.” You nodded, wanting nothing more than to do what he asked. You guessed a maid shouldn’t be doing this, but right now you didn’t care.

You heard the sound of him coating his shaft in your wetness, preparing himself to enter you. Little by little, he stretched you out, walls already clenching around him as you felt him digging deeper. And then he was pounding into you, tearing you up at such a merciless pace that you couldn’t help but moan out his name. 

“F-fuck, Alastor!” you whined, wanting more, more, more. He allowed you a glimpse of him as he fucked you, a flash lighting up his face and illuminating his full, magnificent features.

“So perfect for me,” he seethed. “Letting me destroy you like the little slut you are.” He grabbed your waist as he thrusted harder still, ripping an orgasm out of you that you could only describe as pure bliss.

You came on his dick, getting such a rise out of him that he could make you cum even while you couldn’t see him.

He relented enough to release inside of you, his seed filing you to the brim while his cock twitched inside of you. He pulled out slowly, your liquids dripping out of you like a perfect potion.

He lay his head on your chest, breathing raggedly. You soaked in his smell as you lay with your hair tangled, comforted by his warmth.

He kissed your lips. “We certainly must do this more often.”

“Yes,” you replied. “And… with the lights off.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed my little game.”

“I did.” A pause. “Good night, Alastor.”

“Good night, my precious.”

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n

Warnings: angst, sexism, no hate to any maddie’s

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

@cheriiepies @landinho @mayalou

And just like that, you were gone, because McLaren couldn’t afford yet another scandal about their lead driver. The very day after you left, Lando walked back into his usual room, clicking his fingers absentmindedly as he scrolled through his phone, not looking up. “Y/N, get me a coffee,”. A frown coated his face as he looked up, not hearing the usual ‘of course’ he’d hear from you when he commanded you something. 

“Zak?” Lando said, his eyebrows creased together in annoyance as he walked back out the room, staring at the man in front of him. “Where’s Y/N?”. Zak sighed at the question, shrugging. “She left. We have you a new assistant, her name’s Maddie,”. (Sorry to al girls named Maddie, change the name if you want.) Lando eyed the girl beside him, the way she gawked at him like he was some crazy museum piece. 

She was definitely not as easy on the eyes as you were, with straggly blonde hair and pale blue eyes. “Whatever,” ,andl mumbled, “get me a coffee,”. Zak left her and Lando together in the room as the girl scampered off, Lando’s eyes following her. She was nowhere near as pretty as you were. 

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the cup from her. “What the fuck is this?” he stared at the cup after taking a sip. It was full and cold, the girl had gotten too busy on her phone, gossiping to her friends that she worked for Lando, and let the drink get cold. “Sorry, sir,” she mumbled. “Get me another,” Lando snapped.

Every thing this stupid little girl did, was always so much worse than anything you would do. Everything you did was perfect, you were perfect. And you were all gone, and Zak wouldn’t say why. “Zak, for the fucks’ sake, she’s so shit,” Lando groaned to his boss. “Who, Maddie?” the man raised a brow. “That’s her name? Maddie?” he said the name in disgust. Y/N was better. 

“She can’t do basic tasks,” Lando sighed, as Zak shook his head. “We can’t have Y/N,” the man said, making Lando scowl. “Why not? Why did she leave? Did you make her?”. Never did you think Lando would ever care for you this much, but you weren’t even there to witness it 

“Why do you want her so badly, Lando?” Zak said, making Lando’s cheek flush slightly. In truth, he was sounding a little desperate, but that was irrelevant. He needed you. “Maybe I want an assistant who can actually make a cup of coffee,” he grumbled. 

He was right, actually. Maddie couldn’t even manage that task, and your cups were so much better. “Lando, what is she doesn’t want to come back?” Zak said, his voice almost gentle. “Call her. Ask her,” Lando said. He was adamant, and even he didn’t know why,but he wanted you back and he always got things his way. 

With a sigh, Zak entered your number, putting the phone speaker. You were at your apartment,ent, lying on the beek desperately scrolling for jobs when your phone rang. “Hello?” you said. You’d deleted Zak’s contact after he fired you, so you didn’t know who this was. “Hey Y/N,” Zak said, his voice slightly uncomfortable . 

“Zak,” you mumbled, your voice dropping. What was he gonna say? Tell you that you left something and you need to pick it up? “Lando wants to speak to you,”. Lando? What did he want to do with you? You were just an assistant, surely Zak had found someone else to replace you? “Hi,” you mumbled, hearing the phone switch over to Lando. 

“Y/N,” he didn’t bother with a greeting, “why did you leave?”. So he thought you had chosen to leave. But Zak had very clearly instructed that you weren’t to tell anyone of why to has left. “Um,” you said, not sure how to reply, “I didn’t like the job,”. Lando scowled through the phone, scrunching his nose. “Why not? What happened?” he asked.

“If you wanted a higher salary, I’d give it to you,” he blinked. “It doesn’t matter, Lando, I’m not coming back,” you shrugged. “Seriously?” his voice turned bitter. “What is it coz of what I did? I did it, like, twice, Y/N, Jesus,” he scoffed, his cold tone taking you by surprise, “you don’t have to be such a damn prude,”. What the hell? “Lando, I’m not a- hello?” he cut off the line. 

What was the point of that? He’d called you just to pass on that message? You swallowed the lump in your throat as the tears threatened to spill, your knees tucked to your chest l “all you had wanted to do was earn a bit of money for you to keep your apartment and this was what you got. Lando and Zak hadn’t moved since Lando hung up, Zak’s eyes trained on his driver. 

‘That was harsh, Lando,” Zak said quietly. “I shouldn’t have said that,” Lando mumbled to himself, reaching for the phone. “Don’t,” Zak moved the device out of his reach, “don’t make it worse,”. Why the hell did he care so much for you? That was the only question that kept him up the next few nights, that and Maddie’s ridiculously strong coffee. She was so shit, why couldn’t have just kept Y/N? 

Maddie fucked up everything she did, she gave Lando the wrong items for the race and lo and behold, he came 5th. He needed Y/N, not just for performance, but because he missed you. “Call her again,” Lando demanded, storming into Zak’s office as the American looked up. “Call who?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“You know damn well who, Y/N!” Lando snapped, reaching for his boss’s phone. “Lando, you’re become paranoid and obsessed with her,” Zak said, frowning. “Obsessed? I need someone who knows one thing about racing and isn’t just here to take photos for her instagram!” Lando groaned, “Y/N never did that, she was nice, and she was kind and I abused that and she needs to come back,”. 

Zak had never seen such an outburst from his driver and gave in, handing Lando the phone. He rung the number, tapping his foot as the device rang. No answer. “Fuck,” Lando cursed under his breath, pressing call again. “Y/N, please,” he muttered, as the phone beeped to show it had connected. “Hi?”. God. Your sweet little voice. Oh how he’d missed everything about you. “Y/N,” Lando said. 

It was almost as if he could sense the way your face fell at the sound of his voice. “Hear me out, please,”. You’d never heard Lando plead before, this was new. “Go on,” you said wearily, bracing yourself for another belittling comment. “What I said, last time, about you being a prude,” he said sheepishly as you cursed mentally. “I didn’t mean it, I swear, it just came out, I was so frustrated,” he groaned. 

“Okay,” you said, unsure what else to say. “Please, please, come back,” he mumbled, “did you watch the race?”. You paused. “I did,” you said, “what did Maddie fuck up this time?”. Lando almost laughed at the truth in your words. “Everything,” he chuckled dryly, “every fucking thing,”. He paused for a second too, hearing the sound of your laugh on the other end. It was like a melody. 

“I need you back, Y/N,” he said quietly. You were still annoyed at Lando, what he had said to you for simply leaving because of him was horrible, and he’d never been nice to you once. But hearing him pleading….no. Lando would just abuse his power again. And again. “You have to,” there it was. The cockiness. 

The acting like you owed him something. It got on your nerves but you never did have the courage to protest about it. “I’ll think about it,”. 

[orionremastered]

Damian Wayne x Paramedic!Reader

Soulmate AU

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

You knew what curare was. The plant, originating from South America, was a plant drug that was used in the first forms of anesthesia before being replaced by newer agents. That left curare no longer as something useful, but as a deadly poison.

Curare relaxes the muscles until, eventually, the victim's diaphragmatic muscles no longer have the strength, causing the body to die of asphyxia.

It is in times like this, when you gaze over the hospital bed of your soulmate, that you wished you didn't know these things. You wished you didn't know how long it took for it to kill a human- twenty minutes at most- but your knowledge was useful. It was useful in the way that you knew the poison wasn't eaten or consumed.

That wasn't how curare worked.

The nurses found a pinprick from a needle in Damian's hand, indicating that was where the dosage was given to him.

In front of you suddenly, Bruce clears his throat. He passes you a coffee and you gratefully take it, drinking it practically in one go. “He must've felt the needle.”

Bruce sat back on the chair beside you, sighing into his cup. It was one of those paper cups and the billionaire looked comical drinking from it. “There are things that you one day will learn about my son,” he says in a low, deep voice, “But that day has yet to come.”

He offers no room for further explanation, and part of you doesn't want to know. Not with the way he said it.

With an understanding nod, your gaze drifts to the TV directly across from the bed. A news channel is playing, but the volume's all the way down. The news reporter- a lady with blonde hair in a fur coat as she stands outside the GCPD headquarters- finishes talking and smiles.

You read the headline and immediately point it out for Bruce.

VIGILANTES DETAIN SUSPECT OF WAYNE POISONING.

The suspect in question is heavily beat up, setting off alarms in your head you didn't know existed. You recognised him from the meeting in the Wayne Tower; one of the businessmen from another city.

Beside you, Bruce smiles. But only slightly; you have to triple check to make sure it's really there.

"Did they get him, father?"

The low voice startles you and your head immediately whips around to see your soulmate's eyes opened, watching his father until his gaze slowly turns to you.

"Hi," you say quietly, fidgeting with a pen you found in your pocket.

Damian slowly looks to his forearm where the words he and his family- both the Al Ghuls and the Waynes- dreaded. Instead of being written in black, they were now written in your favourite colour. The word on your forearm was now written in emerald green.

"How are you feeling?" you ask after clearing your throat. 

There’s a moment of pause as he eyes you warily. A tired figure who’s worked too hard and for too long; someone who’s seen horrors and met lunatics all for a shitty paycheck. You don’t even know why you do your job; it’s something you always wanted to do, and it’s fulfilling, but sometimes those reasons didn’t feel like enough. “Better,” he finally decides.

Better. You could settle for better. 

“I’d better get going, then. I’ve had a long day, so, uhm,” you scribble your phone number and name down on a piece of paper, placing it on the bedside table. “Here. Call whenever you want to talk.”

There’s no universe where Damian’s eyes widen a fraction when he realises you’re not staying, but perhaps in this one, he did. Giving a nod to Bruce, you head out the door, walking purposefully to the entrance.

The truth was; you’re not ready for publicity. Being a paramedic means focus on the job and having paparazzi following you around at work was far from what you wanted. You were busy. Galas you would skip from being too tired or your back hurting from lifting patients or simply not being able to take the day off due to lack of staff. You’d become a target for criminals across the city rather than a face they sought for help.

You had been the one to give him your number for whenever he was ready to talk, but maybe it should’ve been the other way around. 

Harper slammed the passenger door to the ambulance shut, signalling the start of a busy night shift. It was the first shift you’d had together since you discovered the identity of your soulmate and you were grateful for a distraction. 

You partner whistled awkwardly, casting nervous glances your way as you pull out of the station. 

“Did you talk?”

“Briefly.”

“Exchange numbers?”

“Yes.”

“Did you… talk over text?”

“No,” you sigh, driving to the nearest coffee shop despite you knowing you wouldn’t make it before getting a call. “Maybe it’s a good thing. I mean, I don’t really want the publicity, you know?”

Harper nodded slowly. “Is he doing better?”

“Yeah, he got discharged an hour after I left. Checked the hospital staff portal.”

The computer beside Harper beeps, shifting your attention to it. “Elderly male complaining of chest pains, history of cardiac issues.”

“Nothing like a heart attack to change the subject,” you mutter, putting the topic of your soulmate in the back of your mind. Lingering, but never gone.

Half an hour until your shift ended. That was the only thing you could think about as the grey clouds hanging constantly over Gotham brightened with the rising sun. Your shift had been long, eventful and it was safe to say the pizza you managed to find open at this hour was the best thing you'd ever tasted.

"Do you think-"

Harper gets cut off by the sound of a message reaching your phone. He raises an eyebrow, smile growing as you roll your eyes and pull it out of your pocket. Truth is, you still weren't ready to register or make the decision on whether or not you wanted to be with someone like a Wayne.

Sorry for not texting you sooner. We should talk.

You change the new number's name to 'Soulmate' and fiddle with your phone case, trying to come up with a reply. Harper casts glances at the screen every few seconds, trying to act normal.

I can't have the publicity.

Your gut sours as you wait for a reply, but you can't seem to rip your eyes away.

I understand.

That is why we should talk.

"Maybe you should talk," Harper says. "It'll be worth it, I'm sure."

You know it will- you want to be with him, you want to have a future together and you want that yearning in your chest to be filled with satisfaction that maybe, just maybe, you can finally do life right.

But part of you- perhaps the rational part of you- believes that could never happen. You'd have to choose between your soulmate and your job. Helping the city, being anonymous, meeting new people and laughing with your colleagues- your best friends- doing what you love...

You turn off your phone without replying.

A/N: Requests are open for batfam if anyone has ideas (bc I heavily lack those rn)

Masterlist

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Not the person I once knew

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: past lovers reunite after many years…and then what?

warnings: SMUT (vaginal fingering, oral-m!receiving, protected p in v -i know, shocker-, biting, choking, overstimulation al liiil’ possesive!Joel -just a smudge-), ANGST, mentions of death and shootings, thoughts and mentions of suicide, cursing, Joel and reader being two idiots that cannot express how they feel and…fluff because I can’t help myself

word count: 10k ( yeah the zero is supposed to be there)

A/N: I am too jumping on the Joel Miller train. This fic actually has plot and it’s not just a straight up porn which is shocking :D. Also I am actually crazy - I have a week off from school and that’s why I write that much. I can’t stop - literally.

Your feet were aching – you've had to walk at least 20 or so kilometers by now – and the cold was biting your skin most unpleasantly – finding a good winter coat or any kind of winter clothes was not easy in this fucking Outbreak. You started to feel thirsty and tired and all you wanted to do was lie down and fall asleep – maybe death by cold wasn't the worst fate you could've endured.

Your mind quickly flashing to your group – you've killed most of them, the snarling of them still ringing in your ears, the smell of gunpowder lingering in your nose. You've done what you had to do – one of your guys got infected and infected almost all of the other ones – the ones that survived either left to fend for themselves which you thought was the stupidest thing ever or killed themselves – fucking cowards. Their blood stuck to you like a second skin – the smell of iron making you uneasy when you started to think about it. Maybe you should've killed yourself too. What was the point in surviving now, anyways? You didn't have a group anymore and you had no supplies anymore. Sure, you could eat the snow for water intake and try to hunt something – but you felt too exhausted for that. Your knees buckling – you fall into the cold snow – you hear something then. Voices, the sound of horses neighing and a…dog? Were you starting to hallucinate? You weren't though – the sounds getting louder and clearer – you quickly scramble to your feet and grab your pistol but you pale when you see how many of them are there – all of them looking more sure of themselves on their horses and with their guns raised on you. The dog barks at you, snapping and growling and you've never thought that you might die getting robbed and then mauled by a dog – though they did not look like raiders. Their clothes look clean and kind of new – compared to your worn and torn-off jacket at least.

Someone says something but you don't hear them – your gaze focused on the dog, your pistol pointing at the handler. You've always been a dog lover – before the Outbreak at least – but this didn't look like he wanted to be friends with you.

“Hey, I said drop your fucking gun or I'll shoot your head clean off!” One of them says – repeating himself – and you gulp dryly doing what he says – you were a fighter but also you weren't stupid. There were too many of them and even if you had good aim you wouldn't be able to shoot your way out of this. The guy who addressed you squints his eyes when you lower the gun to your feet – he gestures for you to kick it further and you reluctantly do so.

“Listen here, cowboy,” you sass when you see the cowboy hat on his head, “I was just passing by – my group is dead, they got infected and-” at your words everyone grips their guns a little tighter – the person holding the dog loosening the leash a little in his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I am not infected, I swear.” You sound desperate and you are – you probably should have blown your fucking head of yourself when you still had the chance.

“We will see about that.” One of them gruffs – you guess it's the one closest to you, the one on your right – and you have the urge to break his nose. Yeah, if you were in their position you wouldn't trust someone either but you are not – and you feel pretty fucking terrified – even after years of survival. “Release Buckley!” The first one – the one with that stupid cowboy hat – says and then you see the big ball of fur running towards you. Closing your eyes you pray that he can't smell any jerky on you – you know so he could nibble on your fingers a little and get a taste of you. The pain of teeth digging into you as you expected doesn't come and so you open one of your eyes – you see that the dog's tail is wagging and a grin slowly makes its way on your face. You slowly bend one of your knees - you are not getting any younger and pain shoots through your leg – but you ignore it and start petting Buckley. He's not that bad when he doesn't look like he wants to eat you alive.

A high-pitched whistle cuts through the air and then he is gone – heeling opposite to the person who previously handled him. They don't say anything more and start to slowly turn their horses on their heels when an idea comes to your mind – they look well-fed and clean, and you feel hungry enough that you would eat practically anything. The exhaustion creeps back up at you after the adrenaline wears off and you shout a quick “hey” - their heads turning in question. You offer them a little smile, kicking your feet into the snow and putting your gun back.

“You guys have a place for one more hungry stomach? I just want something to eat – maybe a few hours of sleep and then I'll be out of your hair. Pinky promise.” you grin and show off your pinky finger – you've always had a way of trying to make the situation lighter than it really was and now that you know they don't pose any tŕeal threat – for now at least – you get your hopes up. All of them share a quick look before the one with that stupid cowboy hat – who wears something like that in the middle of the winter – nods and your grin spreads wider. You grab one of the hands that reach towards you to pull you on a horse – and when you are finally on its back, you stroke its muscular thigh lightly. Maybe this day was not so bad after all.

When you arrive at Jackson it is almost noon. You raise both brows when you see the wooden heavy gait in front of you– the people patrolling their stations curiously looking back at you. When you asked them if you could come with them you didn't expect a whole fucking community of people in a small town with electricity and other necessities – your eyes wandering to the various small buildings that look like shops more so than something where you could take shelter. When you asked them if you could come with them you expected a flimsy building without windows in which you would hardly make a fire. You aren't surprised anymore why they acted so tough – families lived here, old couples and people of various ages. A small flicker of hope goes straight to your heart – maybe you could stay here – you were tired of fighting to live another day. And this looked like a great fucking place.

The guy that was riding with you dismounts the horse – helping you do the same and you pet the animal – thanking it quietly. People don't really look at you – at least not so openly as the ones that were taking patrol – they are doing their own things – some of them just crossing the street, others helping to build a new building – you wonder what that is going to be for – a group of kids runs right in front of you squeaking. They play and your heart aches – it's the first time you've seen kids be so carefree since the outbreak happened – it looked like their childhood was not ripped from them. One of the kids – a young girl no older than 6 – looks almost like Sarah – curly wild hair, big eyes and the cutest dimples you've seen adorn her face – and you feel a pang of hurt in your heart. Reaching for your necklace you squeeze the ring that is on it tightly in your palm – Joel and Sarah would love it here.

The man you've called cowboy asks you something and you turn to look at him – he's quite handsome but he is a lot younger than you for sure – he has this boyish innocence still written all over his face when you pin him with your stare. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I will accompany you to the canteen. Tommy is already waiting there, a few men that were with us already informed him about your arrival.” He sounds formal. Too formal – as if his words were learned. Like a little boy scout you think. Images of Tommy Miller through your mind and you grin fondly at the memory of him – you could never imagine him being a leader of a community like this.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You don't miss the way that the boy's ears gain a darker shade of red and so do his cheeks.

When he leads you to the canteen – you can't believe that they have a real freakin canteen here – you look around because you can't take it all in at once. Jackson looks like an old town from some kind of cowboy movie – maybe that's why the boy wears the stupid hat. A few people on the way politely greet you and you greet them back. When you arrive at the canteen the bo points to the man that has his back turned back on you and before you can thank him – has gone. The lights adorning the room are a nice touch – it looks old school here – old wooden chairs, and tables with plaid cloth scattered across the room, and you can see an old Coca-Cola freezer from the corner of your eye. Your steps are much lighter – even though you are still hungry and tired you're at least not cold anymore, the temperature here is not as cold as outside. The man that cowboy pointed at talks to someone – an older lady with a high-pitched voice with pretty blue eyes – and you wait before they end their conversation, standing to the side. The lady whispers something to him – you can see her lips moving but don't hear anything – and then the man turns and looks at you. If you have something in your hands right now you would for sure drop it.

Tommy fucking Miller was standing a few steps away from you. He looked older – of course – and his hair was a lot longer than you'd last seen him, the mustache he was sporting suited him. You saw the way he scrunched his brows together – as if trying to categorize you to one of his people – and then you saw the realization cross his eyes. His hands drop to his sides and when you whisper a hushed “Tommy ?” he was right in front of you – hugging you close to his body. The hug was desperate and you felt the tears you held back falling from your eyes – the palms of his hands soothingly caressing your back. After a few minutes or was it seconds he pulls away from you and you have so many questions but none of it comes out of your mouth – the lump in your throat not allowing you to. If he was here – alive and breathing – did it mean Sarah and Joel were here too? Or…No, you couldn't think that way. You had buried the memories of Millers a long time ago – but now, seeing Tommy here? He gave you hope.

“Wow-uh, I’d thought I’d never see you again, Doc.” The small nickname of endearment falling from his lips makes you sob and he softly grabs your elbow so you two could sit at the nearest table – a young woman quickly rushes to your side when Tommy gestures with his hand for her to come and he whispers something in her ear – just now you can see the few people scattered around staring at you curiously.

“Tommy-I-is-is Joel here too? And Sarah.” You grab the ring on your necklace tighter – you've been dreaming of this moment for too long – and he looks at your hand noticing the shiny thing attached to the chain on your neck. The engagement ring Joel proposed with.

“I-uh- I'll tell you everything but you need to eat first, Doc, alright?” You don't feel hungry anymore but you nod – noticing the look in Tommy's eyes makes you uneasy – but he offers you a smile and you offer one right back reaching for his hand – squeezing his hand in yours.

You sit and listen to Tommy talk – you aren't sure if minutes pass or hours – but your eyes nurn from all the crying and you feel your stomach drop with your heart multiple times during Tommy's story telling how he – they – come up here. How Joel was desperate to contact you – you were in Houston on a quick trip with your friends at the time, to look for the wedding dress – seems stupid when you think about it right now. How they killed Sarah – your sweet little Sarah, you thought of her as your own, you've lived with her for almost three years and that girl adored you and you adored her right back – you cannot imagine the pain Joel felt when she was killed right in his arms. Tommy tells you about Joel's suicide attempt too – how he didn't see any purpose in life when both his daughter and fiance were not around anymore, he didn't know if you were still alive. He tells you about his wife, how he got here – how he joined Fireflies for a while and you have the urge to punch him when he says that – you have a distaste for that motherfuckers. He tells you about Ellie – not much though – but enough to figure out Joel cares about that girl a whole lot. And most importantly he announces to you that both of them are here and you almost jump out of your chair to go and find him – but Tommy quickly grabs your elbow and stops you. He tells you about how Joel changed a lot – but so have you. When you tell him that he just shakes his head – you don't understand.

“Doc, I don't know how he will react seeing you after 20 years. He is not the person you once knew. I think you should sleep on it first.”

You want to protest but the sound of the door opening and the rushed call of “Tommy!” stops you. You look at who interrupted you and it's a girl close to Sarah's age. She has short brown hair tightened up in a ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. She has a scar across her brow and when she stops next to Tommy and mutters a quick fuck – you know it's Ellie. Joel's Ellie.

“I heard there's someone new in town and I was super curious – Joel told me to wait for him but then he started playing on his stupid guitar and-” he still plays on a guitar. That pulls a little smile on your face. The girl seems like she didn't even notice you and Tommy wants to open his mouth when Ellie seems finally acknowledges your presence.”Fuck, it's you. You're the new person.” Tommy scolds Ellie when she curses but you just grin at her attitude and seemingly “I want to know and also do know everything ” mindset.

“It's okay, Tommy. God knows I curse a lot too. Hi, Ellie.” She seems confused about how you know her name and you've missed talking to kids – God you have missed your job so much, after all, that's how you and Joel met. Sarah broke her leg and when the nurse told him you could finally see them he was more nervous than a mouse being chased by a cat. He was so worried about Sarah that he didn't even notice you ogled him after you were all done with Sarah – but of course, she did. She was a sweet kind and when they left she muttered to her father he should definitely ask you on a date – he just shook his head and told her not to be silly – you were too pretty for him. Turned out you lived close by and from their visit you've started seeing both Sarah and Joel a lot more outside your work. It was you who finally got the courage to ask the hot single dad out – you will never forget how he gaped at you seemingly not trusting his own voice to answer so Sarah quickly jabbed him in the ribs and said that: “he would very much like that” - he was talking her ear off about you even unknowingly so.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know my name and who are you because it seems you and Tommy are big buddies here. Just so you know he has a wife.” She says matter of factly and you think you like this kid a lot – you can see why Joel does too.

Tommy clears his throat. “Ellie, this is Doc.” He says and he doesn't even notices the fact he called you your nickname – you see the way Ellie's brows scrunch up in confusion. “She's a long lost…family.”

“What, are you like their sister? If so you for sure received all the pretty genes – though Joel never said anything about ever having a sister.” She's a lot more talkative than you thought she would be and you think it might be because she finally has a place that she can call home and not worry about stranger danger – at least not that much.

You chuckle. “No I am…” you look at Tommy to see if you can say who you are – though you don't know if Joel still thinks of you as his fiánce – after all, it's been 20 years. He just nods. “ I am Joel's fiánce” You can hear her gasp and say “holy shit!?” - most of the people in the canteen turn their heads to throw her a nasty look. Well, that much at being discreet

“You are Joel's dead fiánce? You don't seem that dead to me.” She mutters that last sentence as she starts inspecting your face and scrunches her nose at you. “You smell.” She states matter of factly and Tommy scolds her once again but you just shrug your shoulders at him.

“It's true, Tommy. No harm in being honest.” If Ellie knows about you it meant she must know about Sarah too and it also must mean Joel talked about you to her. That fact makes your heart build a little faster. Maybe…maybe he still cares about you – logically you know he does, he was a very loyal man back in the days too – but still, it makes your cheeks heat up.

“Joel will lose his mind! You have to see him like right now!” she sounds enthusiastic and you are too – seeing Joel after 20 years? You've been dreaming of this moment for so long…Tommy interrupts your little fantasy – clapping his hands he throws a look at Ellie and smiles at you.

“I think it's for the best if you showered first, Doc As Ellie said you don't smell so fresh and maybe a reunion with your husband would be a lot happier if you don't make his whole house stink, eh?” You regularly nod and when Tommy says you can shower at his Ellie says she will come with you – she asks you a lot of questions about yourself – where you grew up, what did you do before Outbreak, where did the nickname Doc come from – she says you are super cool when you answer her you were pediatrician before everything went to shit. She asks how you and Joel met and you answer her truthfully – you've never liked lying. Tommy just walks next to you and listens – you look at him from the corner of your eyes and see he is thinking – he always has this look on his face – his brows are scrunched and his lips are set in a thin line. Joel has that look too when he thinks about something or concentrates – it was your favorite quirk of his.

The walk is quick and you meet Mariah – she's sweet – she offers you clean clothes and when she closes the door behind you so you can take a shower – you exhale loudly. Knowing that Joel is here and that you will see him made your stomach twist in anticipation. Ellie hangs back downstairs with Mariah and Tommy and you can hear their hushed voices – you are pretty sure that they are talking about you. You want to quickly hop in the shower but when you do it's like heaven on earth – the first spray of hot water hits your sore muscles and you feel yourself start to relax. You haven't had a hot shower since the beginning of the outbreak and you missed it so badly. You try to scrub all of the grime and blood from your skin and hair but it seems like mission impossible and you stay in the shower for far longer than the 10 minutes you said. When you step out of the shower you look at yourself in the mirror – at your face and the bags under your eyes, at your body scattered with scars and the thought of Joel not liking what he will see quickly flashes through your mind but you push it away just as quickly as it came – this was a different world. You wrap the fluffy towel around yourself and sigh in bliss. The clothes Mariah gave you fit you and maybe it's that much of your style – but they are clean and smell like they were just pulled fresh out of the washing machine. When you come down quickly the banter stops between the three of them and you can hear Ellie say that “great, you finally don't look like shit”. She grabs you by the arm and leaves the house – dragging you through the streets of Jackson. She walks quickly for someone so small and you try to keep up with her – the new winter coat you wear is flowing behind you with the speed you are walking.

When you arrive at the house Joel and Ellie live you try to catch your breath muttering that you are not as young as you used to be – Ellie just rolls her eyes and steps on the porch which creaks under her footsteps. You like the house – at least from the outside – you imagined something like that when you planned to move with Sarah and Joel after you two marry.

“So, we are here. Take off your boots when you come in – Joel hates cleaning up the snow I leave behind when I come in and walk in boots through the house.” You nod but then she is pushing you in and you throw her a scared look.

“You are not coming with me?” You hiss and she just shakes her head as if it was the stupidest thing she has ever heard.

“No. Enjoy your time together. I don't want to hear you two fucking.” And then she shuts the doors behind you with a force you didn't even know a little kid could possess. Right after she do you hear a gruffed “Ellie I told you to wait for me we talked about -” he stops mid-sentence and you feel like all of the air in your lungs leaves your body when comes into the view, He looks older – but somehow more handsome then you've last seen him. The grey in his hair suits him, and the patches in his beard are now more prominent than they were before. He looks good – more than good. You don't know what to do or say. The two of you just keep staring at each other – he looks you up and down and you see his breath becoming quicker. You're the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, Joel. Long time no see.” You laugh quietly and the tears in your eyes leave your vision blurred. You're the one who moves first too and you hug him tightly – he changed over the years, he's softer and he doesn't smell like he did back in the days – but there's something about his presence that feels entirely like Joel and you grab onto his plaid shirt – squeezing it in your fists. You don't want to pull away – you never want to leave him again but when you feel him not responding to the hug you slowly pull away and look into his eyes. He's scanning your face and now you see tears in his eyes as well. The weight of his calloused hands is more than welcome and you close your eyes when you feel his thumbs slowly stroke your cheeks. The small escapes your throat and you nod when he quietly – oh, so quietly murmurs - “you are alive.”. You stay like that for a while – both of you don't dare to move in case this was all just a dream. You want to hug him again – to feel him against you but when you try to pull him closer to you he unexpectedly quickly pulls you away. You look at him confused and he wipes his tears away – he doesn't know how to act around you. It's been too long. He buried the memories of you and never wanted them to resurface. The knowledge that you are alive and here right in front of him hits him like a fright train. It scares the fucking shit out of him.

He clears his throat and avoids your gaze when he asks you if you want to sit – you agree hastily - you didn't take off your boots like Ellie said and you contemplate for a flash of a second that maybe you should - when you see the change in his stance and attitude. He's trying to distance himself from you and you don't understand why – wasn't he glad you were here?

You look around the living room. It's spacey and you hate that small painting of deer above the fireplace. You quickly scan the bookshelf and figure most of the books are Ellies. When you sit on the worn-off couch you expect that Joel will sit next to you – but he moves across the room and keeps standing. You are confused and you don't understand – you never expected your reunion to go this way. It stays quiet and you break the silence once again – he never was much of a talker anyway- you and Sarah kept the house full of laughter and it was never quiet thanks to both of you – and he never thought he would miss it that much.

“I met Ellie. She actually dragged me here.” You chuckle but he doesn't respond – this was such a bad idea. He tears your heart apart with his stoic stance and silence and doesn't even know it. But he can't bring himself to speak or move – he worries if he does you will disappear.

“Okay, I guess I will go.” He wants to tell you to stay here with him. But alas nothing comes out of his mouth – though when he sees the ring on your neck he gasps and you throw him a questioning look.

“You-you kept it after all these years.” You are confused but when you see where his gaze is trained you look at your engagement ring and smile. “Yeah, I-uh, I've never stopped thinking about you or Sarah you know.” He sharply inhales, he wants to tell you so much. “And every time I look at it I hear her annoyed voice scolding you on how you proposed.” You snort and he grins softly remembering your light laughter and Sarah's huffing on how un-romantic he was.

“Babe just another five minutes, please.” You grumble and feel him smile against your skin – his patchy beard scratching your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and your breath hitches when you feel his tongue flatten against your pulse point. He hums against your skin and nips at your skin – you try to push him away but he just grins wider and hovers above you.

“You know you said that six times now come on, want to take you somewhere nice. Promise I will make it worth it.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle at his antics – he was the one who slept in most of the time – but on days like this – where you feel exhausted from the previous night's session of amazing sex – you feel like you could sleep till afternoon. You slowly kiss the bald spot on his beard and one of your hands sneaks to the band of boxers – he grabs your hand quickly and shakes his head at you.

“Na-ah, won't work on me this time, sweetheart. You can't seduce me.” You just hum and kiss the spot between his shoulder blade and neck – gently scraping your hand through his already tousled hair. His eyes flutter close for a moment and it's now your turn to grin against his skin. You know you won.

“Mmm, I don't know but you left your girlfriend pretty unsatisfied last night.” You try to push the smile off your face when he quickly opens his eyes at your words – you know he never backs down from a challenge.

“Oh?” You hum and finally cup his semi-hard cock in your hand. He grunts and you smile, biting your lip when he slowly puts his fingers inside your panties. “So wet for me already baby, was three orgasms last night not enough for you, mhm?” He asks when he pushes two fingers inside of you and you gasp – arching your back and he squeezes one of your breasts – his now hard cock strains against his boxers.

“How do you know I-oh fuck. Didn't fake it?” you grit out when his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you – his thumb drawing circles on your clit leisurely. His eyes darken at your question and he hooks the two of his fingers inside of you – it feels too good and all you can do is just moan in pure bliss.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know. This sweet pussy grips me like a vice when you cum. Guess I need to remind you.” The other hand that was squeezing your tit now goes higher and he strokes your jaw – you grant his access to your mouth and he growls when you bite on his lower lip and your go to the back of your head when he speeds his hand – his tongue sliding into your mouth and when he pulls away you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Guess you do.” he mumbles something alongside “such a smart mouth” before his hands grab you around your throat and put small pressure on it – you shudder and he just hums when he feels you close. “Gonna cum for me, won't you?” You just nod and when you finally do cum – you bite his shoulder, your nails scraping across his back. He pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in your mouth – you hum around them and push him so he is the one laying on his back.

“I have to return the favor.” You throw him a cheeky look and he just mutters an “oh god” when you pull him out of his boxers – the tip already red and sensitive, leaking precum out of it. "Guess I will have my breakfast early."

An hour later Sarah is already up and grins at you. You bid her a good morning – you try to look presentable – you've already brushed your teeth, changed and you smile at her when you see that she made pancakes.

“Sooo, do you like the ring?” she asks and you stop pouring coffee into Joel's mug. He throws Sarah a quick look of “don't say another word, please” but she ignores him. “You know, the one dad proposed with?” your go slack-jawed and look at Joel who quickly scrambles to his feet from the chair and pulls you to him.

“What is she talking about, Joel? You ask and he uncertainly smiles and bends one knee – you see the little black velvet box and when he opens it you gasp – the ring inside of it is beautiful – simple and elegant and tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh my god, dad. You said you would propose before the sunset.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and keeps his gaze trained on you.

“That was the plan but were… preoccupied.” He grins at the last word and Sarah mutters a quick “gross” but starts looking for that old stupid camera to make wvideo of the proposal– hoping you would say yes. She thought of you almost like a mother and when Joel told her he wanted to marry you she squealed in delight.

“So whad’ya say, sweetheart? Will you marry me? Even though I am proposing in our kitchen and with my pajamas on.” You nod and he lets out a breath of relief – when he stands up you kiss him passionately.

“You won't get rid of me now that easily, Texas.” You whisper against his lips as he wipes your tears away.

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You couldn't wait for the new chapter of your life with Joel and Sarah by your side

Joel stays quiet for a long time after your confession and he almost misses you leaving – but he registers the door shutting softly. He falls onto the floor – putting his hand on his heart which seems like it will fall out of his chest any moment- his breath is quick and he can't seem to calm himself down. His ears are ringing and he registers the flow of tears after they fall on his cheeks and into his mouth – the salty flavor of them sits heavy in his mouth – and he wishes he could be man enough and run after you. But he doesn't – he stays sitting up on his living room floor the face of you haunting his mind alongside with the old memories

Tommy was right. Your fiánce was not the person you once knew. Joel seems to be avoiding you because you've been in Jackson for a week now and didn't see him at all. Not that you minded after seeing his enthusiasm – or rather lack of – at seeing you. You try to not think about it that much and throughout the day you occupy yourself – at night you cry a lot – Mariah always comes to your room and shushes you to sleep or if you are talkative that night she lets you talk. It's like having a girls' night but more…depressing. The people in Jackson are nice and you try to help everywhere you can. Whether it be with kids or at the canteen. Helping with sheep or horses – you often go and visit Buckley – he soothes your ongoing nerves. Joel will have to come out of hiding one day. And you are not ready for that. On the other side Ellie seems to hang with you a lot – the day after your meeting with Joel she almost tackled you to the ground when she forcefully asked what did you do to Joel – you have to give it to her, that girl got spirit and an undying loyal heart like the man she is living with. After trying to explain it to her –it was very hard because she thinks Joel can do no wrong really – and you are not saying he did, she gave in pretty easily and started hanging out with you.

You are staying at Tommy for a while – at least before you decide if you will leave which is very unlikely or they will try to find you another accommodation. She comes there every afternoon and brings her science books – you found an anatomical book in the library one day and kept it with you – and you try and teach her the various Latin words or show her where is what on her body – three days ago you two drew a life-sized human and marked bones on it and such. You've met other people too and learned that the shy cowboy's name was Henry – he asked you out and you admired him for his braveness but you told him you are probably closer to his mother's age than to be his girlfriend.

Tommy went and tried talking to Joel too but you both know how stubborn he can be and when you asked him how did it go he just shook his head low and offered you a sad smile. Today you wanted to help an old lady, Mrs.Grempinks - or something like that – with knitting. Her hands were shaking the past few days and she felt sad – you offered her help and she accepted – she doesn't need to know you do not know how to knit at all. At least it will maybe make her feel better that she is not the only one in the room with poor knitting skills. On the way to her, you come across Ellie and she lets out a relieved sigh when she spots you.

“Here you are I've been looking everywhere for you.” she empathizes the word everywhere and starts dragging you with her – where you aren't sure.

“Hey, Ellie. Slow down. Ellie!” you shriek when you figure out where exactly she is dragging you – to her – Joel's- house and you burrow your heels into the snow-covered ground.

“Joel isn't home and I want to show you something really cool – I've been working on it for the past couple of days after you borrowed me your anatomy book.” You want to protest and you turn around in the direction of Mrs. Grempkin's house but you don't have the heart to tell Ellie that you don't have time and Joel is not home and you would leave soon enough anyways – she will just show you her little project and then it's gonna be as if you never even put your foot in the house again. When she pulls you inside she again quickly closes the door behind you and dread overcomes you – oh no she didn't – she shows you the two keys in her hand and you know the other one is Joels. She locked you out.

“I am sorry but both of you are miserable and you have to talk it out!” There is nothing to talk about with Joel – he doesn't need your presence near him, it's been clear and you mouth a quiet “please, Ellie, don't do this” while you jumble with the handle. It's no use and you sigh thumping your forehead against the door. You quietly take your boots off this time and start looking around the house – looking for Joel to tell him what just happened.

You find him in his workshop – it's nice and you stay in the doorway while looking around. You see the various little wooden figures and you find it cute that he found something he can get lost in. The various guitars on the wall peak your interest – you've always loved when he played and his back is still turned on you while he focuses on his woodwork – you enter the room slowly and when you touch one of his guitars a low “hi” echoes throughout the room. His back is turned still but his hands stopped moving and he is sitting still.

“Didn't know you could hear me.” You say and he chuckles lowly.

“I'd be dead by now if I didn't hear someone sneaking up on me.” He says and you hum acknowledgment – when he finally turns to look at you your breath hitched because he is so effortlessly handsome it hurts. You cross your arms around your chest.

“I wasn't sneaking up on you.”

“Sure you weren't.” He throws you a grin and it's different than the last time you talked – or didn't really – to him. He is more relaxed and he actually looks like he doesn't mind seeing you in his house. It's quiet for a while but not that uncomfortable silence that suffocates. You look at one another and you take him all in – his aquiline nose and his full lower lip, his brown eyes and you look at the dip of his neck – licking your lips. It's suddenly too hot in here with the way his gaze burns into you.

“I am sorry.” He offers and you don't understand what for – or you do – you just want him to expand that sentence because you felt like a fool the last time you were here. “I am sorry for the way I reacted but I never thought I'd see you again and when you just appeared in my house I was overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I could still feel. After Sarah died I-” He chokes and you are in front of him in a blink of a second – cupping his cheeks and he closes his eyes bathing in your gentle touch which he doesn't deserve - or at least he thinks so

“You don't have to tell me anything. Tommy told me and I-I am sorry what happened to Sarah. And everything you've been through, Joel.” You say and he opens his eyes and shakes his head – none of what happened was your fault and you shouldn't be sorry. He was glad you weren't with him when all of it went to shit because you'd probably be here by now. It's easy to be this intimate with him and you bask in the way he lets you touch – you expect him to pull away like last time – but he doesn't. Instead, he brings his lips closer to yours and searches for your gaze which drops when he licks his lower lip.

“I want to kiss you, sweetheart,” he murmurs and your lips are almost – almost touching when he says so. His forehead is pressed up against yours and your hands that were previously holding his face now move behind his neck – your nails scratch the spot behind his ear gently and he closes his eyes – whether in pure bliss or to hold himself back you don't know – though if its the latter you don't want that. “Need to kiss you,” he adds. You just nod your head in agreement – you wanted nothing more than to kiss him the last time you saw him.

“What are you waiting on then, Texas?” You tease and you feel him smile into the kiss – it's just a gentle press of lips – as if he was testing the waters. One of his hands grabs your hip – squeezing it – and the other moves behind your head and pushes you closer – he needs you closer. The wet press of his lips is more urgent now and his tongue licks your lower lip. You grant him access into your mouth and then the kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate, more desperate – Joel was always a good kisser and you always enjoyed just making out with him late at night to some bad movie that was on the TV. The hand on your hip moves lower and he cups your ass – you moan into his mouth and he hums, the other hand now stroking the hinge of your jaw. Your hands scratch his scalp and he almost but purrs – pulling away from you he plants butterfly kisses across your face.

“Bedroom?” The question seems silly – you need him and if you'd be any younger you'd jump his bones right here on the floor. But you are not so you nod and he pecks your lips quickly before he grabs your hand – squeezing your fingers in his – and leads you to his bedroom. When you enter it he closes the door more forcefully than needed and before you have time to look around he is pushing you onto the bed – your back hits the mattress and he grins – he hasn't seen this sight in over 20 years and he is enjoying every second of it. You sit up and pull him by the collar of his shirt. He is quick with it – his mouth on yours again and his hands start exploring your body – they go from your thighs up to your tummy and then higher – he squeezes your tits – you moan and his hands move higher cupping your cheeks tenderly. He pulls away and moves your hair out of your face.

“Need you so badly.” He pants – and you feel just the same. You feel him start undressing you but you want to make this last as long as possible. You push him away and he seems confused before you are pushing him on his back – your sit on his lap and you feel how hard he is under his jeans – you test the waters and grind down on him – your hands on his chest and he really wants to keep his eyes open but the feel of you on him makes him feel like he's fuckin teenager again that will bust his load into his pants any second. “Fuck, gonna make me cum before the real fun even begins and I am not young as I used to be. If that happens I will have to eat you out at least three times.” You grin and bend down to kiss his neck – your tongue leaving hot trails in its wake. He sits up with you and his hands fly to your lower back to support you. He surges forward – his tongue exploring your mouth, mapping your teeth with it and when you feel his hands trying to take your shirt off – you tug him by the hair roughly – his hips bucking up to meet yours as he moans your name brokenly.

“Slow down, baby. Want to appreciate you.” You push his chest so he will be laying again – he wants to protest but you put one of your fingers to his lips. The look he gives you is downright sinful before he is sucking it into his mouth – his teeth nipping it and you can't look away from his advances. His tongue peaks out and you feel the way he swirls it around your digit just like used to when he ate you out. You moan brokenly and put another one there and he bites into them softly. The small butterfly kisses you leave on his scar from his suicide attempt makes him drop your fingers from his mouth as he groans loudly – he feels so fucking appreciated and loved at this moment that it makes his head dizzy. “Need to see you, baby. Sit up.” He does and you unbutton his shirt slowly one by one while he kisses your jaw and your neck – sucking at it once in a while his tongue flattens out against your pulse point where he leaves a mark.

“Fuck, want you to take your shirt off too.” You don't have time to comply before he is pulling it over your head and you are not wearing any bra – the one Mariah gave you did not fit you – and he immediately reaches for them. He pinches one of your nipples while he sucks on your other one and you throw your head back – it always felt this good with him. Sex with him was easy and he was a generous lover. The only man that had ever made you cum. When pulls away he frowns when he sees the deep red scar close to your heart.

“Someone stabbed me but as you can see I am alive and well. Don't worry about it, We all have our own scars.” Your thumb slides across the one next to his temple and he nods – he is angry at himself though. Maybe if he was with you it wouldn't happen. Maybe if he'd try to look for you harder. Maybe…”Hey, Joel. You still with me?” You stroke his bicep and he nods before you peck him gently. “Strip out of these, will you? Want to suck your dick.” You pat his jeans-clad thigh and his jaw rocks forward. You sit on the bed and he makes quick work of his jeans and his boxer – his cock is bobbing with need and you open your mouth awaiting.

The first lick sends him into overdrive and he grips your hair and tries telling you to take him deeper – just a little bit deeper. You drool and the spit starts to cover his balls – it's messy and the sounds he makes sound like straight up from porn. His head is thrown back and he gets lost in the feel of you – your mouth – and he can't believe you are here with him. He feels his balls pull up tighter and he pulls it out quickly before he is bending down to kiss you – he doesn't register the surprised sound you make when he pushes his tongue almost all the way back down your throat.

You taste like him because you are his, his, his and the growing need he has for you makes him almost rip your new pants before he is working his fingers inside of you – the familiar wetness and tightness make him feel like he is 30 again – and you cry out. He drills into you and snarls when your nails dig into his forearm, his nose bumps against yours and he wants to kiss you but he concentrates on making you cum because he wants to be inside of you. To mark you as his. His to kiss and hiss to make you cum and his to love and his, his, his. He searches for that spot and his other hand sneaks onto your inner thigh – when he finds it – he can hear it from the high-pitched moan that you let out. He smacks you onto your inner thigh and you jump forward and try to get away from him. It's too much – his fingers, his groans and talks and his tongue that find its way into your mouth. He's too much and he can feel you are almost there – almost. He grabs your throat and his eyes watch your Adam's apple bob – his thumb putting slight pressure on it. The squelching sounds of your pussy make him double his efforts and he can feel you getting closer and closer with every pass of his fingers through your walls – your pleas echoing through the room. He knows you need more and he grins menacingly when he sees how your pussy glistens with your juices and soak his hand.

“Fuck, sweetheart look at you. Soaking me. You want to cum?” He knows you do and he is downright cruel when he slows down and you sob because you want to cum – you nod and he is not happy with that – swatting you against your inner thigh once again before repeating that question.

“Yes, yes, Joel! I want to cum, please make me cum!” You feel on a verge of tears and he kisses you softly before he continues his previous efforts – his thumb now circling your clit and it's the additional stimulation you needed. He curses when he feels you squeeing him and he works you through it – your vision goes white and all you can think about is Joel and how good he is – before you come back down and he is still working his way inside of you and suddenly its too much – you try to push him away but the hand on your thigh just grips you harder – the blunt nails of his digging into your thigh.

“Please, Joel, Too much, it's too much!” You cry out but it's like he can't hear you and he bites your lower lip, his fingers never stopping and you can feel him pulling another orgasm out of you – you can feel him grin against your mouth and murmuring “that's it, such a good girl for me, sweetheart” before you are cuming again. Your legs shake and the moans you let out die down when he puts his coated fingers of your cum in your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head – he is kissing you and then telling you to “share with him” and it's so fucking nasty – a string of saliva connecting you both before he is wiping his mouth. You are sedated and when he reaches for something in his bedside table you don't really care. The sound of foil tearing makes you open your eyes and you see how he pulls the condom on his dick before he is crawling to you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You gonna ride me.” He says and you don't feel like you have that much of a choice – he is pulling you on top of him and before you know it he notches the head of his dick between your folds. You grab the base of him and slowly sink down on him – you forgot how fucking thick and big he was and you need a moment before you start moving. Your muscles are sore and your throat is dried up from all the moaning and screaming but when you look down to see Joel's blissed-out expression – you start to move slowly. He lets you ride him at your own pace – you are the one in control now and he's here only for the right. He strokes his thumbs o your sides and then opens his eyes he feels like he will come right there and then. Your tits bounce with every pass of his cock against your walls and the way your head is thrown back and your throat on full display – his fingers twitch as he has the urge to bring you by your throat and kiss you.

The leisurely pace only lasts for a while before you can feel another orgasm build inside of you – the hair on the base of his cock scratch your clit deliciously. You dig your nails into his shoulders – one of your hands grabbing his jaw when you kiss him – he lets you and his hands move from your hips to your ass – squeezing the flash in his palms. You moan when you feel one of his hands sneak toward your clit but you push him away – breaking from the kiss.

“I am the one that is now in control, Texas.” The smirk you give him makes his cock twitch and he nods – his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulps and you til his chin up as you sink your teeth gently into it. He holds onto you tighter – your pace unfaltering and he wants to cum – needs to – but not before you. His heels dig into the mattress and you pull back to stop moving as your hips start to sway in a figure of eight. It does nothing for him and he whines – whines – in protest. You tell him to “shut up” because you are so so fucking close and that's when he grits his teeth together – his patience runs thin. His hands grab the chain with his ring on it – the only thing you are wearing – and he pulls you towards him by it. The look you throw him is absolutely wrecked and when you are close to his mouth – you need to kiss him, want to taste him – he pulls his head away from you to put the ring between his teeth. That alone almost makes you cum and you can't look away from him – even when he grabs you by the flash of your ass – and start sinking you down on him. You are completely mesmerized by the ring in his mouth and before you know it you are cuming – he slaps your ass when you do and you jolt forward – the ring falling from his mouth when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He fucks you through it and he sits up – his heels planting into the mattress so he can chase his own orgasm – he puts the ring into your mouth now and if he could he would take a picture of you like this – his ring between your teeth while he fucks you silly and your gorgeous body putty in his hands. His balls slap against the meat of your thighs and he puts his forehead on your chest – you can feel the small droplets of his sweat roll down his forehead. He pants and you know he is close – his pace now frantic as he kisses your chest. His lips make their way to your throat and every pass of his cock makes your walls twitch. You feel every vein of his and the head of him pushes against your g-spot. You start meeting his thrusts – pulling him closer to your neck as the only thing he can now do is groan and whine. He can feel your quick pulse and the way your fingers tangle in his locks as you tug him by it – you are overstimulated but he doesn't want this to stop. Never wants this to stop.

“Come on, baby. Want you to cum in me,” You whine and he shakes his head – he doesn’t want to, he doesn't, he doesn't…and then he is cumming as he empties his seed into the condom. He thrusts up at you a few times as he pushes himself through the afer shocks – you can feel him twitch in you before his body goes limp and you fall on him. He strokes your shoulder blades and you listen to his slowing heartbeat – your fingers drawing little hearts on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you and grips the condom by the base of it to tie it off and he throws it into the trash can next to his bed. He pulls you closer to him and you hum – slowly drifting off to sleep exhausted and worn out.

“Love you, Joel.” You say against his neck when you kiss him there and his heart swells up at your confession. He unclasps the chain from your neck and pulls the ring on your finger as he admires it.

“Love you too, baby.” You almost don't hear him when he whispers it against your lips – but you don't need him to say it – after all Joel is a man of actions and not words. And you are perfectly fine with that.

[theamberfist]

Leave it All on the Dance Floor! Part 2 | Alastor x Overlord! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord.

Description: After having his coat ripped, Alastor enlists the help of his best friend and tailor.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cannibalism) (Part 2/5 of Leave it All on the Dance Floor!)

Words: 2508

Part 1

"That new fabric order you wanted just got in, boss!" Joan chirped as she entered your work room; a clipboard in hand. Hearing that made you smile and you looked up from where you'd been drawing out concepts for some new clothes.

"Wonderful!" You exclaimed, "I know you know where to store it for now. I'll get to work on adding that to the new line later." Joan nodded as she crossed the item off her well-organized list. "And how are the newbies doing down there?" You asked, referring to the recently-hired demons currently being trained to work the boutique while you focused on designing. 

You'd hoped they wouldn't end up causing much trouble when you took them in; needing the extra employees, but Joan's expression immediately made you lower your hopes. 

"They're...Working on it." She replied finally, "But don't worry; I've been dealing with all the customer complaints the way you told me to. We'll get those sinners up to par soon enough, and then you'll be back to having the most well-run boutique in hell!" 

At that, you sighed. You were just glad to have Joan to deal with them so you wouldn't have to; after all, you'd been very busy lately. 

"Are you still designing the new line?" the feline asked with a hint of concern in her voice. You'd been working on it for the last week almost nonstop, and you knew she was probably a little worried about you. Still, she knew better than to comment about it openly. 

"Yes," you replied, setting the drawings on your desk now, "But I should have some solid concepts soon." Joan was still frowning but you ignored her worry as you leaned back in your chair and stretched. You'd been at this all day so you had to admit; it might be a good time to take a short break. 

"I'm sure these new designs will be even more lovely than your last ones," you assistant finally spoke as she took another step forward, "But...Uh, there's one other item that could use your attention right now." At that, you raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh? What is it?" You asked. Based on her nervous expression, you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. 

She drew in a breath before glancing back down at her clipboard. "We have a client here who requires repairs on some of their clothes." 

"I thought I said I wasn't going to be taking any clients this week?" You replied now, crossing your arms, "Can't one of the apprentices handle it?" 

"The client has insisted only your expertise will do," Joan told you, "And frankly, I don't think it's quite my place to refuse." She had a look of fear on her face at that that piqued your interest even more. Who could this client be to have scared even your own assistant so badly? You had a few ideas, and if they turned out to be true, then you almost wanted to smile in delight.

"Alright," you pretended to sigh now, knowing what was up, "Send them in and I'll handle it." Joan nodded quickly before heading over to the door of your workshop, which she opened to reveal a very familiar sinner standing on the other side with a huge smile on his face. 

"Why, thank you, my dear!" Alastor told Joan as he took a step into the room. She nodded quickly before leaving and closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, you grinned and stood from your desk. 

"Al, what brings you back here already?" You asked, though you couldn't have been more glad to see your best friend back in the Swing Sector visiting you, "Miss me already?" The Radio Demon's smile widened at that and he came over to pull you into a hug. 

"Lovely to see you too, my friend!" He exclaimed as you chuckled. "I'm afraid I've come to request your assistance mending some of my clothing, if it's not too much trouble!" You let go of your friend now, raising an eyebrow at his words. 

"Of course it's no trouble, but...Surely it's not these clothes you need repaired, right...?" You asked, a dark shadow beginning to form across your face, "After all, I just made this suit for you a couple of weeks ago." Your tone was calm but extremely threatening and despite being the Radio Demon himself, Alastor had to fight the urge to step back. When it came to the clothes you created, you could always be a little...murderous. He almost didn't want to continue with the look in your eye, but nevertheless, he did so.

"Unfortunately, it is," he replied carefully and with a solemn nod of his head. When he saw your expression darken even further though, he quickly continued. "But I assure you, dear, I did everything in my power to avoid letting any harm come to these clothes! This is the result of an...Unfortunate turn of events." 

"Who did it?" You asked in a tone so unlike you that it would have made anyone living in your sector shake with fear. 

"Alas, I do not remember his name; the forgettable sort." Alastor replied, glad to have shifted the blame off of himself now, "But I assure you, I plan to make him pay for his transgressions." His own expression became scarier now as his eyes began to shift into radio dials and glow red; even more so than normal.

"Give Joan a description of this demon on the way out," you ordered, "I'd also like to have a go at anyone who thinks they can damage my designs and get away with it." Alastor nodded at that, even if only to calm your rising anger. 

"Now," you said, taking a deep breath in order to pull yourself from your murderous rage, "Show me the damage." You turned back to grab a tape measure and some sewing pins as Alastor held up the end of his coat, which had been clearly been ripped. Of course, it always gave that appearance, but in this case, the tears weren't how you'd designed them, and therefore, gave a rattier appearance.

You felt your anger nearly flare up again at the sight but calmed yourself as you nodded and then got to work measuring and pinning wherever necessary. 

"Good thing I always keep your fabric on-hand," you spoke while holding one of the sewing pins between your teeth, "Otherwise, you'd have had to wait a few weeks for it to get in, and we certainly couldn't have you walking around like this for so long." The Radio Demon nodded, assuming the pose you always had him hold as he let you work.

You'd been his personal tailer ever since the two of you became friends shortly after your own arrival in hell. Before them, he'd had some random sinner off the street make all of his clothes, and as you'd told him the night you ran into each other at that party, it had showed. Luckily, he now had a best friend who was always willing to ensure he was well-dressed; making him a top priority whenever he came in. 

For a few minutes, you pinned the fabric in silence as he took in the sights of your workroom. It hadn't changed much in the years since he'd last visited; a realization that was somehow heartwarming. 

It was as messy as ever; with various designs lining the walls, fabric strewn about, and several trunks of other sewing supplies pushed up against the tall windows. Your desk was even worse with pins and needles all over it that had been entangled in string, and Alastor knew if he were to ever bring someone like Nifty here, she would have had a field day. 

Also resting on your desk, though, were several framed photos. There was one picturing you and Rosie, probably taken sometime after the Radio Demon's disappearance, along with several photos of your various owned souls that had been taken at the parties you hosted. Alastor's smile widened, though, when he noticed several old photos of you and him rested among the rest. Even after all this time, they were well-taken-care-of and free from dust or dirt. The sight was very sweet.

"Did I overhear that you were working on a new line?" He finally asked, breaking the silence as you threaded some red string through a needle like it was nothing. 

"Of course," you told him with a grin before kneeling to hand-sew the new fabric of his coat to the ripped area. "I have to stay up to date, don't I? And plus, runway season is coming up." 

"Well, then I hope to be in attendance at many of your upcoming fashion shows." Alastor told you and you nodded as you started stitching. 

"You'll be the first one invited, of course," you said with a playful eye roll, "Who better than my best friend to witness as I crush Velvette; fashionably?" This made the other overlord's smile widen even more.

"I have no doubt in your creative mind," he replied, "In fact, I daresay her own designs are nowhere near your level, so where's the competition in the first place?" He gave a loud laugh at that and you shook your head with a smile.

"Thanks, Alastor," You said as took out another sewing pin; not needing it anymore, "But it turns out there might actually be some competition this season. The Overlord Gala is being held a month earlier due to the next extermination being moved up- will you be attending, by the way?" You glance dup at your deer-like friend, who immediately nodded.

"But of course! I wouldn't miss such an entertaining event for the world," he replied, placing a hand where his heart should have been, "And I suppose I'll have to be requesting your services for my clothing then, as well." You nodded, turning back to your work. 

"Well, anyway," you continued, "The gala is supposed to be competitive as far as fashion this year, and I intend to have the best designs by a landslide. But that all starts with the line I'll be releasing shortly beforehand, so it has to be perfect." 

"Of course," Alastor nodded knowingly, "Do let me know if there is anything I can do to assist! Any endeavor that involves putting those arrogant V's in their place is worth supporting. Though, I hardly think you'll require my help schooling Velvette on the runway." You chuckled at that, finally finishing sewing Alastor's coat and tying it off.

"Thanks, Al." You told him now as you stood and brushed yourself off, "I always appreciate your support. And...Your coat is done!" You stepped away now, letting him inspect your work as you began putting away the rest of your materials. The Radio Demon took a second to look it over before his smile widened (somehow), seeming satisfied.

"Perfect as usual, my dear!" He told you as he gave a brief spin for emphasis. "Thank you kindly!" 

"Anytime." You replied once you'd put everything away, "Oh, and by the way, are you planning to attend that meeting next week? The one Carmilla sent information about?" A part of you was a little nervous he hadn't been invited for a second, considering the other overlord had never been particularly fond of Alastor, but then his eyes shone with recognition. 

"Yes, indeed!" He told you as the two of you started heading out of your workshop now, "Am I correct to assume you'll be there as well?" You nodded and his smile brightened, "Splendid! Then I shall see you at the meeting!" 

"Sounds good," you replied, "But before then, make sure you let Rosie know you're back! If you show up to the meeting with no warning she might bite you." You shivered, remembering the last time Alastor had done something to make the kind cannibal overlord angry. You hadn't had bandages on-hand at the time and had had to use whatever fabric you could find just to wrap his wound. 

"Of course, of course!" Alastor waved a hand dismissively, which told you he most likely would not be telling Rosie in advance. He always had liked to keep everyone guessing, hadn't he? "Now, I would love to stay longer, but I must be on my way, darling!" He headed over to the counter of your boutique, where one of your newer recruits immediately shrunk away in fear. "And I'd better let you get back to work if you're to show everyone up at the gala!" 

You grinned and made your way over to the register, but instead of punching in any amount, you simply leaned your elbows onto it with a smile. "Al, you know I wouldn't make you pay for a simple repair like this," you told him, "if anything, the one paying will be whichever demon ripped your coat in the first place." You were still smiling but your voice got significantly more sinister and your eyes darkened as you spoke the last sentence. The rest of the shop's employees cowered but Alastor just laughed. 

"A true gentleman pays his friend for their services, dear." He reminded you but as he spoke, his gaze shifted to the street outside, where a TV in the store across the street happened to be running Vox's broadcast. His smile didn't drop but you could instantly see the shift in his eyes from joy to annoyance at the sight. 

And you could understand why. It seemed Vox had caught wind of the fact that the Radio Demon was back, because he was going on and on about Alastor's return and what it meant for the future of hell. You supposed that obsession of his still hadn't died out. 

"On second thought, it seems I'll have to be on my way." Alastor practically spat before turning back to you with a joyful expression again, "But do let me know when you're next free, and I'll be sure to treat you to lunch as thanks for your kindness this fine day." You gave him a look so he added, "with vegetarian options, of course." Your grin widened.

Even though you were best friends with both Rosie and Alastor, two of hell's most well-known cannibal demons, you had no interest in partaking in said acts yourself and he could respect that. 

"Alright." You said finally as Alastor adjusted his bow tie once more and then turned towards the door. "Nice to see you again!" 

"Bye now, dear!" He called back, "Oh, and if you've got the time, consider tuning in to my next broadcast! It's sure to be quite...Entertaining." With that, he was out the door and you shook your head, still smiling. He was no doubt going to clap back at Vox by going on-air for the first time in years, and of course, you weren't about to miss that for anything. 

"Joan!" You called, heading back up the stairs to your workshop now, "Would you bring the radio up? I have a feeling this afternoon's work is going to get much more entertaining!"

……….

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

[l1tw1ck]

The Worst Boss on Earth

Haitham signs a contract with his boss to keep his job

Bottom!FtM Haitham x Top!Masc Reader

[Event] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Extreme Dub-Con, Titjob, Nipple Play, Squirting, Desk Sex

📝 W.C: 1,354

Al Haitham, your secretary, saunters into your office with a short stack of papers in his hands. He drops them onto your desk. "These are from the clients." He clarifies.

You sigh. "Why do you always give me more work when I'm already swamped?"

Al Haitham crosses his arms, shifting his weight to one foot. "It's not my fault, Mr. [Surname]."

"Still. Every time I see you I get annoyed." You shake your head. "I'll probably lay you off one of these days."

Haitham frowns. You're the type of boss to fire your secretary after a year or two —if they're lucky— of working. Most candidates are aware and apply for the job for the experience knowing they won't last long, quitting the job before You fire them. But Haitham didn't know until his coworker told him, and he needs this job. It's the second highest position anyone could get in Sumeru, and it's surprisingly simple and has a small workload, something Haitham prefers.

"Isn't it a hassle? To fire and hire constantly?"

"I would rather not have negative feelings towards my workers, especially my secretary." You shrug. "It's not like you need this job, you could probably find something better."

"Maybe." Haitham mutters. "When will you fire me?"

"Not today." You shrug again.

Haitham walks into the office wearing a pretty long coat, hiding his outfit up until he reaches the top floor.

He knocks on the door before entering.

"Ugh." You sigh, mostly joking to annoy him.

Haitham rolls his eyes, taking his coat off and setting it down somewhere. The sight immediately catches your attention.

"You- What is this?" You ask, exasperated and sporting a boner.

Al Haitham's wearing a button up, the bottom tied up to turn it into a crop top, it's mostly unbuttoned to show his cleavage. Underneath is a black lace bra. Further down, he's wearing a pencil skirt with a slit, matching lace panties, black stockings held up with matching black garters and black heels to top it off.

You wonder if you're still asleep and having a weird wet dream based off of a porn video.

Haitham walks to the other side of the desk, swiveling your chair around to face him. "You're hard." He says plainly.

"You don't say."

"If you want to have sex with me, you can't fire me." Al Haitham says.

You stare at Haitham's chest for a while. "Fine."

Al Haitham takes out a folded piece of paper from in between his breasts, something he learned from an exchange student back in his school days, and hands it to you.

You bite your lip, your boner getting harder to ignore, and unfolds the paper. A contract and a string of condoms.

"How about I add one more thing?"

"What?"

"You have to do what I ask of you."

Haitham makes an annoyed face. "Absolutely not."

"Then I won't sign. You think I don't have tons of candidates waiting to take your job?"

Al Haitham sighs and begrudgingly agrees, but not before listing his "hard no"s.

You sign the contract with the new additions added and turn back to your secretary. "Get on your knees." You order, unbuckling your belt.

Haitham takes a deep breath and sinks down to his knees. Your hard dick flops out, bigger than Haitham expected.

"Give me a titjob." You smirk. He would've refused if it weren't for the fact that he had to give up his autonomy for the contract. He hates that you have this power over him, but he's left without a choice.

Haitham frowns and unbuttons his shirt. He holds up his breasts, keeping his bra on, and slides them down and sandwiches your aching length.

You let out a low groan. "Start moving, pretty boy."

It takes everything in Haitham to not spit on or slap your face. He instead chooses to do as he's told and slides his tits up and down the hot shaft.

You grin at the wonderful feeling of your secretary's soft breasts hugging your length. "I should've threatened to fire you earlier." You marvel.

Haitham grimaces. "Are you going to come yet?" He asks, not wanting to do this any longer.

"A little more, don't talk. And don't make that face."

Al Haitham's face softens as much as he can manage to and speeds up his movements.

It's not much longer before you shoot your load onto your secretary's face, causing him to recoil and gag.

Haitham pulls away from you and stands up to get a tissue from your desk.

"Are you happy?" Haitham asks, more attitude in his tone than is called for.

"No, not yet. Take your skirt off and sit on my lap."

He frowns and slides his skirt off before climbing on top of you, avoiding your mostly flaccid cock.

You unhook his bra and hold his breasts in your hands, admiring the weight. "These are perfect."

"Pervert."

You scoff. "You're the one who came up with having sex in exchange for your job, you're more of a pervert than I am."

Haitham frowns. He can't really argue with that.

"Gods..." You stare at his puffy nipples. "Do you play with your nipples a lot?"

He looks away, not wanting to answer.

You chuckle. "So you do." You smirk, making his cheeks grow dark with blush. You drag your tongue up one of his nipples, swirling it around the almost swollen bud. Al Haitham covers his moans with his hand while unconsciously rolling his hips.

You choose to ignore it for the sake of sucking his nipple, your hand playing around with the other.

"Mmf-" Haitham throws his head back, a familiar and usually welcomed feeling crawls up his skin. "Wait- wait- ah~" He tries to pull you away but you're dead-set on sucking on his chest. "No- no-"

He tries to hold back but with the way you're working his sensitive nipples it's impossible for him to not squirt.

You finally pull away and look at the spectacle in front of you, amused at how quick and hard he came. "You liked it that much, sweetheart?"

Haitham looks at you with an extremely embarrassed expression.

You slide his wet panties to the side and turn him around, bending him over on the desk. You quickly slip a condom on, thankful he brought some. "I forgot to ask," You slide yourself inside him without warning. "Are you a virgin?"

He chokes out a gasp, your cock stretching out his previously virgin pussy. "I- I was-" He hisses.

You grin. "How does it feel, Haitham? Having your boss take your virginity?" You slowly slide out of him.

"It hurts–" He responds, cut off by you slamming into his g spot. "Ah~!" Haitham moans.

"Your pussy takes my cock so well, baby." You spank him. "So tight too."

He doesn't say anything, he's too busy wishing it didn't feel this good. Wishing he didn't love the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of him.

"I don't think I'll ever get rid of you, sweetheart." You grin.

"Too- too slow-" He breathes out.

"I'm going too slow, huh?" You move even slower. "Tell me that you love my cock, and I'll go faster."

"I- I love your cock, sir-" He gasps as you fuck him faster and ruthlessly.

"Good boy." You praise, hand running through his hair before grabbing it and pulling his head back. "Moan louder for me."

"Buh- but- Aah~!" Al Haitham chokes out a moan thanks to you spanking his ass. He gives up on holding back, moaning loudly and almost shamelessly.

"That's right, let everyone hear you."

"Clo- close–" He cries out, pussy squeezing you tightly and his body shaking as he comes.

You come shortly after, slowing down and filling up the condom. You pull out and have Al Haitham turn around and sit up.

You slide the condom off of you and bring it to his face. "Swallow." You order.

He grimaces before opening his mouth and letting you pour it down his throat.

"...Are you happy now?" He asks hoarsely.

"Very happy." You reply.

[hoeforhao]

Chipmunk Cheeks 🍥🧁🍡🍧|| Joshua Oneshot ||

ꔫ pairing: husband!joshua × wife!reader

ꔫ summary: your arranged husband takes care of you in your period pain.

ꔫ genre: pure fluff,mentions of blood and pain, reader sort of has body dysmorphia

ꔫ series: svt as boyfriends

ꔫ author's note: walking into the traffic if i don't find myself a joshua hong cuz am dying from period cramps atm!!

Masterlist

Marriage was never on your book of life and wouldn't ever be your cup of ale. Did your parents know this since the very beginning? Yes! Yet they absolutely went out of their capacity to defy your choices and arrange your betrothal to none other than the Hong Joshua.

Mrs Hong was your mother's colleague, more specifically her best gossip buddy. They were literally known as the gadgets of their office. And when both the women saw that their little ones are getting old with no potential chance of finding their partners by themselves, they settled upon the dreaded agreement.

All your pleas about not wanting to get married to someone you have barely had three to four conversations with, someone whose entire personality, preferences literally everything was unknown to you, were completely left unheard by your parents. Apparently they wanted their daughter to have a "secured future". Literal BULLSHIT.

The most terrifying day of your life was just two weeks ago and here you lay whimpering in pain on the bed of someone you've barely spoken to or looked at since the wedding.

"What a nice time for you to pay your visit, you bastard" you internally curse at your periods.

Yes you're basically dying from period cramps. You didn't know where the nearby medical shop was around here neither did you've the energy to go downstairs and get yourself a hot pack. You were quite literally awaiting your death from organ crumbling pain in your ''husband's room". Too dramatic for just period cramps? Yes! But why react to anything normally when you've the option to absolutely lose your mind over it.

You were so damn lost in your nonsense rantings to the walls of your room, that you failed to register joshua being back from work already.

Finding the house engulfed in absolute silence made his nerves falter for a moment. Usually it would either be filled with loud tv noises of you watching cinnamoroll on the couch or clanking of the utensils as you baked yourself another new dessert recipe.

He quickly throws his coat over the armrest and hops towards your room with those little bunny legs of his ; only to find you completely curled up like a boba ball under the blankets as small painful moans echoed through the walls.

"Y/n, w-what's wrong?" you jolt up from your little coocon as Joshua's warm hands grazes against your forehead.

"Are you okay? You don't seem to have a fever. Did you've a bad day? Did anyone make you cry? Are you missing your parents? If so let's go to their place right now" he grabs your arm gently to pull you out of the bed.

"Would you let me answer or just assume things by yourself Josh!" you unwrap your hands from his while literally burning holes into his face.

"Y-yeah sorry. I was just wo- umm worried." his face hangs low from embarrassment or maybe even a bit of hurt? Not being able to understand what's bothering his wife.

"It's okay. I was j-just having really bad p-period cramps" your face now starts turning crimson, not because talking about periods with a man makes you uncomfortable but because it was h-him...your 'arranged husband'.

"Oh my god Y/n why didn't you call me!!!! I would've run back home from office immediately and brought you treats. Did you eat anything? Where is your hotbag!! Goddamn girl why aren't you taking care of yourself" you wonder if joshua participated in speed talking competitions earlier judging his ability to blurt out sentences without a single pause.

"Calm down Mr Bunny Teeth!!! It's nothing special. I've these every month. The pain will ease out gradually." you nod at him trying to reassure the man that you're infact, not dying.

"No no no way you can talk this so lightly!!! What if you burst from the pain huh! I can't clean up a bloody mess. Hell No" Joshua's last remarks ends up earning him a hard smack from you, making both you chuckle lightly. Dang your husband was even more dramatic than you!

"No seriously tho, you need to take care and pamper yourself during these days. Wait I'll get you some treats" he stands up from the end of your bed to leave towards the kitchen when your arms grabs his from the back.

"I-i don't e-eat sweets or rather I umm can't" your face droops low trying to fight the stray tear making its way onto your lap.

Joshua turns towards you in a swish and bends down to the floor, not caring about bruising his knees on the cold marble; both of his palms reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Why y/n?" a two word sentence was enough to make you break down into a crying mess.

"I - i was a-always told that I'm f-fat and s-so i stopped e-eating my favorite food w-which was s-sweets" you were talking like a five year old, words mixed up with your sobbing and face stained with snot and tears at the same time.

Joshua's firm hands gently grazed over your face as he wiped the mess off of it with his satin white shirt, while the other refused to leave your cheeks.

"You will eat as many sweets as you want love, as you buckets of ice cream you wanna feast on. And I'll be sitting right here infront of you so that each time you think about stopping yourself because of what the world thinks, your face will be planted with a kiss." you've turned completely red by the choice of his last word, the pain in your belly now mixed with a tingling sensation.

"You are perfect the way you're y/n! I can't even imagine a single milligram of you leaving this world. Like omg just think what a great loss will this universe face then!!! I want to see you eat to your heart's content, enjoy each and every meal. Do you even know how bright that smile of your glares when you munch on your food like a happy raccoon, cheeks stuffed up like a smol little chipmunk."

"S-shua you-"

"Sshh! No more words love. Sit here 'til I bring all the food from downstairs and then we'll sit together and watch sanrio, okay chipmunk?" Joshua's slender fingers draw against your lips, sending a flutter of butterflies all over your bones.

Sitting on the bed like an obedient wife you wait for him to arrange a literal feast of sweet treats infront of you, alongside tucking you into the duvet with the hot bag on your belly, making a literal cinnamon roll out of you ; wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your head now rests on his, taking in the sweet scent of his lilac cologne as you two draw yourselves into solace while watching tv together.

"Marriage isn't that scary afterall"

[queenquinzel715]

1. Alfie Solomons 18+

Word count 3,175

1. Alfie Solomons 18+

(Y/n) p.o.v

I've had enough of Small Heath, Birmingham, so I told Poll I'm going to London to visit Ada. Granted I was staying with my younger sister, but I spent most of my time with old friends that moved out of Birmingham. They told me about this club, it's supposedly the rage of London, and I'm dying to see just how big this place is.

"Hurry (y/n)! The car is here." My friend, Mildred yells for me.

"I'm coming!" I rush past Ada with a kiss on the cheek. "Be back in the morning Ada!" I yell over my shoulder.

"All because your name is Shelby doesn't mean you have to act like one!" I hear Ada as I climb into the car.

As Mildred, Joan, and I rode in the car we told stories of our lives, and we'd laugh. We finally got to the club, and I'm so thankful no one knows who I am, or my family. We walk in, check our coats, and immediately I get an idea of what kind of club this was. There were people doing drugs before you even got to the main club part, along with people having sex against the wall. I might as well have stayed in Small Heath for this. The only difference was this was high class instead of the dirty Garrison.

As the night went on I lost each friend to guys, one with snow, and the other to dancing. I stayed at our table, relaxing against my seat, just enjoying the music, and my drink. That was until some high-end guy sat in the seat next to me, and moved it closer. I slightly move to the side to take a sip of my drink, trying my best to ignore him, but he takes my drink out of my hand.

"You shouldn't be alone." He states. "It's not safe for a woman to be here alone."

"I'm fine." I say in a monotone.

"Why don't we get a drink? I can get you the top stuff." He boosts.

"I have the top shelf. Thank you" I state trying to reach for my glass.

He grabs my arm while he stands, lifting me up with him. I try to pull my arm away, but his grip hardens.

"Dance with me." He commands.

Before I can curse at him a big fist collides with his jaw, making him fall to the ground. I turn to my savior to see a man with a beard, top hat, and a cane. He moves to stand in front of me.

"Right, you say you're sorry to the lady." His cockney accent throws me.

"I'm not…" the man stops when he looks up. "Sorry ma'am." He then runs away.

"Names Alfie Solomons, love. " He tips his hat to me.

"(Y/n)." I purposely leave my last name out.

"You need a new drink, love. What you havin'?" He points to my spilt glass.

"Gin and water." I told him. I could tell it surprised him.

"That's fucking awful. Let me get you a proper drink." He sirs as he holds two fingers to the bartender.

"So, what has a gentleman, like yourself, in a club like this?" I smirk at him.

"I could ask the same, love." He chuckles.

We are a couple drinks down. Apparently the rum in London is a lot smoother than in Birmingham. We laugh at each other's stories. I say goodbye to my friends when they leave with their own men.

"I couldn't possibly drink another one." I giggle as I move the half empty glass away.

"Let me help you." He helps me stand straight as we walk out.

Alfie walks me to a cab that's sitting waiting outside. I laugh at myself as I slip into the seat. I lay my head against Alfie's shoulder as he tells the driver to go he moves to rest on my crossed knee, and the other over his cane. I run my hand along his arm until it wraps around his bicep, and the other rests on the top of his rough hand. He flips his hand to actually hold my hand. We rode in comfortable silence until I eventually leaned my head on his shoulder.

When we pull up to his hotel he pays the driver, and helps me out. I keep hold of his hand as he guides me up the stairs. Once we get to his door his hands go to my waist to pull me close to him. I run my fingers in his beard as I smile up at him as we lean into each other. We kiss like we haven't seen each other in years, like we needed each other. He starts to kiss along my jaw.

"Al…Alfie please open the door." I softly moan into his ear.

He gives me a smirk as he takes a small step back, but doesn't let go of me as he turns to the door. I squeal from being picked up from the waist, and I hear the door slam behind me. I giggle as I'm set on my feet again. I turn to Alfie, playfully hitting his arm.

"You awful man." I laugh.

He chuckles as he throws his jacket off letting it fall over a chair while his cane falls to the floor. He grabs me by my waist to pull me to his chest. I smile up at him as I move his suspenders down his arms. He backs us to the bed making us fall onto the bed, with my knees on his hips. I gasp when he starts kissing my shoulder to my neck. I grab the back of his neck as he starts moving his hand up my leg, bringing my skirt up with his hand. I rest my hands in his hair while I open my legs for him to kneel between them. He locks his eyes with me as he pulls my underwear down. With a tight grip on my thighs he begins to kiss along the inside of my thigh then doing the same to the other side. I tried to lean on my elbows to watch him, but the closer he gets the more intense I feel. I fall on my back with soft moans. He finally is close enough, but all he does is kiss my lower lips with a quick kiss. I almost whine, but it stops in my throat when he licks up my opening.

"Alfie." I reach for his hand on my hip.

He entwined our fingers, giving me a slight squeeze before completely devouring me like a starved man. My back arches into the air as I grasp the top of his head. I've never had a man do this, this good before. My thighs already start to shake from him playing with my clit.

"Alfie, please! I…" my head falls back as I beg.

I feel his free hand run up my stomach to my chest as he sucks my clit while pulling away. He uses his hand to hold me down while I shake under him, a moaning mess. While I catch my breath he stands to look over me, and slides his pants off. I quickly slide my dress over my head as he crawls between my legs. I rub my hands over his shoulders as he gets in between my legs. My body is just melted, a puddle under him. I actually need him. I've never needed anyone this way before, and it's throwing my mind off. I can't keep any sense to me while he slowly slides into me. He doesn't stop until his hips are against mine, and he leans down, his groans vibrating my shoulder.

"Fuck, love." He starts to move.

I move my hips along with his as he moves faster. He knows every spot like I've known him for years. The faster he moves the louder the bed squeaks, the harder I grip his arm, and he tightly squeezes me to his chest. I bite my lip to hold my moans in, but he rams hard enough to reach deeper than I could ever imagine. I have to hide my mouth in his neck as I moan out.

"Alfie. Please." I beg into his neck.

His movements become sloppy, and I can feel myself tighten around him, feeling every grove of him. With a deep groan and another deep ram we release at the same time. I tried to catch my breath, but Alfie pulling me to his chest didn't help. I usually leave after I relax for a moment, however his arms are so warm I fall asleep.

I wake up at some point in the morning, and begin to slowly leave. I have to get out of here before he gets up or it's going to be awkward. I don't have many one nights, but I know the rules. I get back to Adas while she is at work, so I just go back to bed for a couple hours. I'm woken by the phone ringing.

"Ada Thorne residents." I answer.

"(Y/n), I need you back soon. Come straight to the Arrow House." Tommy orders before hanging up.

"Oh yes Tommy. No problem Tommy." I grumble to myself hanging up the phone.

He's such a pain in the ass. I tell Ada Tommy's orders, and she just rolls her eyes as she helps me pack. I give her and Karl a final hug as I board the train. I can't stand how I have to follow Tommy's rules, and orders. I swear I'm gonna smack him one day.

Coming into the station I see Tommy's driver waiting for me, and helps with my bags. Of course Thomas Shelby couldn't meet his sister at the station. The drive to Arrow was peaceful, and all I thought about was Alfie. I start feeling guilty for leaving, for some reason. Pulling into the long driveway of the house I roll my eyes at Tommy's new living.

"(Y/n) welcome back. How's Ada?" Polly asks as she helps me step out of the car.

"Ada is fine, Karl is driving her mad with his shenanigans, but overall fine." I laugh with her while we walk inside.

"Well Tommy of course was ahead of himself, because his meeting isn't until tomorrow." She walks me toward the living room. "I told him you would already be here, but of course he didn't listen." She lights her cigarette as she talks.

"It's okay I wasn't really doing anything." I shrug.

She hums in reply, but Tommy stops her from actually saying anything. He doesn't even acknowledge us here, he just pours him a drink.

"(Y/n) my business partner will be here tomorrow afternoon. I need you there to have the papers in order." He simply tells me.

"Why can't Lizzie help you?"

"Because I have you doing something else." He walks away with no response from me.

The rest of the night I talked with Polly. I went to bed dreaming of ocean water. I woke to Polly shaking me awake for breakfast. I took my time getting ready, and setting the papers in front of Tommy making sure he saw I put them there. John, Arthur, and Tommy start talking business, so I just leave.

Around two in the afternoon I was called into Tommy's office by Polly. She has hard eyes when I see her, but I should've been listening to the voice in the office. As I walk in everything goes quiet.

"(Y/n)." When I hear that deep voice again I almost fall to my needs, but instead my head snaps up to the man standing next to my brother's desk.

"Al…what?" I try to gather myself, but of of course a girl can't do that when she has brothers.

"How the fuck do you know our sister?" Arthur stands from his seat.

Alfie just looks at me in shock as I do him, maybe in deeper shock. I look at Tommy as he stares at me. He knew. He knew, and that's why he called me to come here. My head begins to spin as John and Arthur start yelling, so I just run out of the room.

"(Y/n)!" I hear multiple voices call behind me.

I run to the side of the house, squatting down, and just take deep breaths. I slept with their business partner, and I might actually feel something for him. I already know it's not going to end well for me or Alfie. I stay leaning against the house until I hear my name being called.

"Love where are you?" I hear Alfie's voice call with the others.

I take a deep breath before walking out. Polly, John, and Alfie are watching me walk toward them. Alfie looks my body over with sad eyes before turning to his car. Polly puts her arms around me as Alfie drives away. I know we weren't together, but it still hurt he left.

"It'll turn out right (y/n)." John rubs my arm.

We walk back into the office we're a fuming Arthur is sitting with a calm looking Tommy. Polly sits me in a chair in front of the desk, and sits next to me as John stands behind my chair. The look Tommy is giving me is like he's looking at every depth of my soul. He clears his throat before light a cigarette, and turning his eyes to Arthur.

"His name is Alfie Solomons, and he runs the Jews in Camden Town. We started working with him when we went against Sabini, but Alfie decided he wanted the Italians." Tommy clears his throat. "You know everything after that, but he hasn't done anything lately." He looks at Arthur when he scoffs. "I need to know if you knew him."

"No, I swear we met at the club in London." I tell the truth.

"Do you care for him?" Tommy asks.

"I… well.."

"Who cares?! You go near him again, I'll cut him." Arthur storms out.

"Answer me." Tommy pushes.

"Thomas enough." Polly steps in, but Tommy just stares me down.

"I don't know." I shrug.

"You don't know, but yet you slept with him." He scoffs.

"Oh please like you are the Virgin Mary." I roll my eyes. "I did know he was a gang leader or something like that. He stood up for me and bought me a drink. He was different." I say the last to myself but of course Polly heard, and snapped her head to me.

"Alright that's enough. She hasn't done anything wrong,Thomas. What she chooses is her choice." Polly tells Tommy, and gives him the eyes that meant that the conversation is over.

She walks us up to my room, and shuts the door when I sit on my bed.

"Now it's my job to tell you what he said." She smirks at my reaction, and hands me a folded paper. "If you want to call him he will answer, and business is business not this." With that she left.

Over the next couple days I keep thinking of Alfie, so when the guys are gone I use the library phone to call Alfie, and when his deep force answers I freeze.

"Hello!" He calls again with frustration.

"Alfie?" I quietly answered.

"(Y/n)? Wha…are you okay?" He sounds so flustered.

"I'm okay. I just decided to call you." I hear something move in the background.

"I'm glad you called. I knew you couldn't resist me, love.'' He chuckles along with my giggles.

We talk until I hear a while blowing in the background. He grumbles under his breath.

"It's quitting time, love. I have to go."

"Oh okay." I pause for a moment. "Where do you work?"

"A bread factory in Camden Town." He tells me, but a loud bang is heard before I could respond. "Love I gotta go, I work with idiots."

"Okay bye Alfie." I giggle.

"Bye love." He hangs up.

I turn around to leave with a giddy smile on my face, but Tommy leaning against the door with his arms crossed.

"I'll deal with Arthur, just don't lie to us." He walked away before I could hug him.

I rush to my room, and throw things into a small bag. I have to get back to London. I tell my family where I was going, and the only thing Polly tells me is to be careful. The train pulls into the London station, and I see Ada waiting for me. When she sees me she gives me a smirk with her hands on her hips.

"I told you just because you are named Shelby doesn't mean you act like them." We laugh as we get to her car.

The next morning I got ready. I make sure everything is perfect before I get into the taxi. As the drive gets closer to where I'm going I begin to get nervous. What will happen? We stop close enough to the door. I knock on the big door almost getting hit with it when a scrawny man with an apron answers.

"I'm here for Mr. Solomons, the name's Shelby." I simply tell him.

He opens the door further for me, and I follow him through the bakery, up the stairs to Alfie's office. He points toward the door before going back down the stairs. I softly knock on the door before opening it slowly.

"What now, Ollie?" He doesn't look up from his papers until the click of my heels hit the floor as I walk to him. "What are you doing here, love?" I sit on the corner of his desk.

"Well I decided that I wanted to come see you, and that maybe we could talk somethings out." I nervously twist the bead on my dress.

"What is there to talk out? I assumed with your call the other day you were mine." He simply tells me as he stands.

"Well I guess so. I just…" He cages me with his arms.

"You wanted to see me." He finished for me. "I'm glad you're here." He kisses me deeply.

I stayed with Alfie for a whole week, and he almost had my brother banging down his door when he wouldn't let me leave. He ended up coming to Small Health for a few days until the smog got to him. After a couple of months of back and forth Alfie asked me to marry him. Arthur beat him up when we told everyone, but everything is overall okay. The day before my wedding Polly told me I was pregnant, and the baby was going to be famous. My sweet Sylvia was born. She was our angel. However our son Jack became a gang leader like his father. I love him to pieces, but he gives me heart failure.

[theirishwolfhound]

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick Headcanons

My thoughts on pretty boy Kyle are actually relatively new. The longer I spend reading and writing about him for my own purposes, the more I absolutely fall in love with this man. As a collective whole here on Tumblr, as far as I’ve seen, we’ve collectively decided that Kyle is the heartthrob of the Task Force.  In this I'll cover the basics that will be prevalent in my own fics, if you wish to use any feel free, they're mostly rambles as is :)

“Oh come off it, sweetheart.”

Age: I wholeheartedly believe he’s older than Soap, but younger than Ghost, so between 27- 33. Personally I think he would be 29-30. With a bit of research it is said he enlisted in 2008 when he was 16, so I’m more inclined to believe he’s 30. (not me having to fix my own fucking story because I fucked the math up and got their ages wrong like a stupid moron) Sexaulity: Omnisexual, like he’s definitely some sort of queer and it’s hard to place him. Would he love a pretty lady or man? Absolutely, just as much as he would love a more rugged woman or man. -As for his own gender, I don’t think he would really care what pronouns he’s given so he could just be a cisgendered man who’s comfortable with himself or he’s just gender nonconforming. Height & Weight: Definitely 6’/182 cm and weighs roughly 198 lbs, I see him as a toned athletic man for sure.  Personality: Just like in the game, Gaz has to be sassy. We love sassy men who can match vibes. He’s the guy you want to go clubbing with, not only because he’s fun as hell but because he makes you feel safe at the same time. You give him an attitude he returns it with little effort and it either matches the energy you gave or it surpasses it. -He’s very comfortable with himself. Secure with showing both masculine and feminine traits. Give the man a crop top and a skirt he’ll wear them for you. He’ll let you paint his nails, do his makeup, ect.  Birthday: September 26th, 1992 (I'm using 2022)

Car Or Truck?: It honestly depends. I feel like he could potentially have both given his current vibes. But I would see him with a car, a nice sleek car with leather seats and a bumper sticker that says: “If at first you don’t succeed, call an airstrike.” given to him by Soap. -Specifically thinking of a core model BMW 740i xDrive Sedan, dark charcoal grey in color, glossy coat and dark windows. Cat or Dog?: He has the silliest dog that stays with his parents. I think it is a boxer, or a boxer mix of some sort, that has almost the same personality as Kyle. Boxers are a hyper and goofy breed of dog, and he is very certain that if he knew Soap before he got the dog he would've named it after him. Favorite Food: Vindaloo, specifically lamb Vindaloo. He just seems like the person who would prefer the more savory foods. As well as spicy foods. And if he had to go with something sweet, he’d go for a lemon drizzle cake.  Favorite Drinks: This man drinks fruity cocktails without fear of judgment just as easily as he drinks whiskey, and for non-alcoholic drinks he's a big tea, latte, and ginger ale fan for sure.  Favorite Music: 2000-2010’s music for sure. This man knows Britney Spears’ Toxic like us Americans know the pledge of allegiance.  Song I think Fits their Vibes: Feel The Way I Do- The Jungle Giants Hobbies: Gives off the vibes of a man who taught himself how to play guitar and jewelry making. Makes Soap bracelets and teaches him how to make them as well. More physical activities might be running and swimming. Fears: Oddly enough, not really, falling. It's not a terrible fear, it just gets his heart racing enough that he steers clear of the helicopter doors until they land. 

“Why don’t we go this way? Y’know, away from the edge, yeah?”

Familial Relationships: Has a relatively good relationship with his mom and dad, they probably live somewhere closeish to his flat in London. They would have a key to take care of the plants on the inside for sure. Has an older sister and a younger brother. They’re all fairly close and he’ll visit them on his leaves if he has the chance, otherwise they all have a group chat to check in with one another.  Relationships with the team: I definitely think this varies based on what sort of relationship you’re seeking to read/write about. I try to always write polyamory, as a poly-person I like having the representations.  Price: Coming from someone who loves PriceGaz, they are either the best mentor and trainee coupling or the most judgemental couple. They can read each other relatively well and work together rather well. (Though they equally get on each other's nerves.) Soap: Definitely best friends if they’re not dating, they get up to the most interesting shenanigans. They’d go clubbing in matching outfits and are annoyingly catty together.  Ghost: As lovers and friends, they’re totally the ones that would seek quiet comfort from one another. They have secret tea time and share snacks. Totally make fun of Soap's hair if it's in need of a shave.  Love Language: Physical Touch and Gift Receiving/Giving. He'll do a skin care routine with you, massages, and he'll make sure to buy the stuff for it to give to you or you to him if you get him something. He knows what makeup you wear or what size to buy your clothes in to surprise you. 

Civilian or Military Lover: Prefers civilian lovers over other soldiers, but like he’d date other soldiers given they’re the right person.  What would their civilian job be?: I see Kyle being a Paramedic, like he’d be the one I’d ask for if I fell in the shower because he’s not gonna make fun of me and he’s hot. How’s their charisma: Rizz Master, man. I'm convinced he's got a smolder that'll knock the clothes off of anyone lucky. Voice is smooth like honey and sweet to boot, he's an interrogation expert— he's gotta have a way with words. What would your first date be? Hard to say. I think he'd take you out to a coffee/tea house or you'd go get Ramen. But in reality I know it would be put up to a mutual agreement. He’d totally pay the bill and makes sure you never even get to see the slip. What would they call you? “Baby” is definitely one of the top ones, but I think the next contenders are as followed: “Sweetheart” and “Pretty/Handsome”

“Gonna make me feel pretty, baby?”

Size: Gonna have to say he's not the biggest or longest but I agree with the post that said he's the prettiest of the four cocks. A neat 6.5 in, circumcised, hits the right spots and he knows how to use it well.  Kinks: Bondage, Exhibitionism, and Sensation Play Position?: Pretty boy Kyle is a complete switch, though has a more dominant leaning personality. He’ll let you top, but he's gonna boss you around while you do it.  Sharing?? Kyle loves to share. He is inclined to share with his team, after all those are his best friends and his brothers-in-arms, they saved his life many times— just a little peek won’t hurt. Song that fits his vibe in the bedroom:  Swim - CHASE ATLANTIC

[harpersdragons]

Theft in the Family...By Jason Todd Chapter 2

When Alfred heard the knock on the front door (or more accurately, saw the message from the security system, given he was in the cave running comms), he can safely say a child was not what he expected.

Certainly not a child dressed in League robes, demanding to see Bruce Wayne.

The child, Damian Al Ghul-Wayne—and isn’t that comforting, knowing his pseudo-son slept with the heiress to an assassin cult—apparently, handed over two letters.

One had his own name written in a—entirely too familiar—messy scrawl.

The other had Master Bruce’s name in an elegant script.

Alfred accepts the two letters, tucking them into his waist coat, and leads Damian into the main sitting room.

“Would you like something to drink?”

”A chai would be satisfactory, Pennyworth.” Damian says haughtily, but his voice wavers slightly.

”I will get that started, then.” He heads off to the kitchen.

Once he has the kettle started, he pulls out the letter with his own name on it.

Alfred reads the letter 3 times, and still doesn’t believe the words he reads, or the DNA test included at the back.

DNA tests can be faked, he knows that.

But—

But if Jason is alive, how did they miss that?

How did the League get him?

Jason’s alive, and he brought Bruce another child.

Jason is alive

The kettle’s whistling shocks him out of the stupor he was in, and he sets about making the Chai for their newest family member.

Unconfirmed family member.

Still reeling from—supposedly—Jason’s letter, Alfred walks back to Damian in a dazed state. Once he sets the tea in front of the child, he sends a message to the family to get back home.

”Will you be needing anything else?”

”No, that’s all.”

Alfred hums and settles in to wait. He’d like to go down to the cave and be there when the family gets back—just to ensure there are no new injuries—but he can’t very well leave the child alone, and he can’t take him into the cave either.

He can’t help but mark similarities between his pseudo-son and apparent grandchild.

Even the way they sit is similar, or at least Damian is sitting in a way reminiscent of a young Bruce.

Having children of his own seems to have taught him to relax a bit more, but Damian is sitting perfectly poised on the edge of the seat.

They have the same strong cheekbones and nose, even the scowl etched on the child’s face is the same.

Alfred is startled out of his thoughts—again—by a knife hurtling across the room.

Master Dick catches the knife, looking confusedly from the child on the couch to Alfred.

”B! Why the fu—“ He catches himself before finishing, “Why is there another child on the couch? I swear you have an adoption problem!”

”What child? I didn’t get another child.” Bruce’s voice echoes down the hallway.

”Well then how do you explain the toddler on the couch?” Master Tim deadpans.

”Excuse you, plebeian, I am not a toddler!”

”Bruce the child speaks. That’s it, I’m going to my room.” Master Tim turns towards the foyer, but Master Dick grabs him by the shoulder.

“Nope. If I have to deal with this, so do you. Go sit down.”

”He threw a knife at you! I don’t want to be in the same room as him.”

”You act as if that isn’t a normal night for us.”

Their bickering is interrupted by Master Bruce finally entering and clearing his throat.

”Alfred?”

”Master Damian, here, showed up on our doorstep roughly an hour ago. He claims to be your biological son. With Talia Al Ghul.”

“Oh great, now he’s stealing my thing.” Master Tim mutters, plopping onto the chair farthest from Damian.

Alfred pulls out the other letter and hands it to Mast Bruce, “He gave me this, and said it was for your eyes only.”

”Hn,”

Master Bruce flips through the, admittedly very long, letter. “How did you get here, Damian?”

”Obviously, I took a plane.”

”…Were you flying it?”

“Of course not. I am much too short to see over the nose.”

”Right…So who was flying the plane? And where did they land it?”

”We landed outside of Gotham.”

Bruce sighs heavily.

”B, you’re obviously not getting any more information out of him, just go run the DNA test you’re so obviously dying to run,” Tim sounded exhausted and Alfred made a mental note to make each of them something of good protein in the morning.

————————————————-

Bruce is pretty sure his heart stopped briefly when Alfred said Damian is his biological son.

Reading through the letter didn’t make it any clearer, though he did find DNA test results included.

Not that he trusts them, this is Talia they’re talking about.

“Alright, Damian, let’s go do a DNA test.” He holds his hand out, but Damian just stalks past him with his head high. Bruce suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. The kid is Talia’s, no question.

“Alfred, would you mind preparing a room? Dick, you’re free to go to your own apartment if you wish, just let Alfred check you over first, since we skipped post patrol checks. Although I would prefer it if you stayed the night.”

”Yeah, yeah, I know the drill, B.” Dick answers.

”I’m serious. Let Alfred check you out.”

”I will. Geez, you hide a broken rib one time. Goddamn.”

”And it won’t ever happen again.”

“I’ll be upstairs, B.” Tim heads upstairs, leaving Bruce with Damian.

He leads the (his?) kid down to the cave and starts preparing the DNA test. Damian is pretty cooperative with the whole process, if huffing and glaring at him is considered cooperative.

Once the DNA testing is complete, Bruce escorts Damian upstairs again.

“Here is your room, if you need me at any time, my door will always be open.”

It was a policy he made for himself when Dick moved in, his bedroom door is always at least cracked open, so his kids know they can always come in.

”I'm sure I will be fine.”

“Right, well, goodnight. I’m glad you’re here, Damian.”

Alfred is waiting on him when he gets to his room, and gestures for him to sit with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine, Alfred, promise.”

”I don’t know why you believe you can get away with things your kids cannot.”

”I’m an adult!”

”And maybe I will believe that when you are not dressing in leather and Kevlar and taking your issues out on criminals. Besides, you have hidden three times as many injuries as your children have, only for me to realize when you pass out at the table.”

Bruce grumbles, but sits and lets Alfred prod his ribs and make sure nothing is injured.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, Bruce walks into the kitchen to see Damian perched on a chair watching Alfred.

“Good morning.” Bruce grumbles at Damian and Alfred as he enters.

“Tt. It is hardly morning now. Do you always sleep so late?”

“Well, yeah, pretty much. We’re always up really late.”

“Tt.”

Eventually Dick and Tim come in, and Alfred lays breakfast out.

“We will need to go to the store, as even Master Dick’s old clothing would be too big for Master Damian.” Alfred announces after they finish eating.

“Right, who wants to go with me?”

Both boys glance at each other and slowly back out of the room.

“Looks like both of you are going, thanks for volunteering!”

“Hey…y’know, I’ve got to get back to Blud, gymnastics classes and all that.” Dick starts backing up faster, making it about halfway down the hallway.

“Yeah, and I’ve got school!”

“Guys, it’s Saturday. Dick, I know you don’t work weekends, so don’t even start.”

“I could still have homework!”

“You’re three weeks ahead of your class. We’re all going.”

“I’ll get the car, Master Bruce.” Alfred brushes past them.

Both the boys groan, but accept their fate.

“I do not see what the problem is.” Damian pipes up from where he’d been watching their arguments.

No one seemed particularly eager to explain, considering the main problem was being recognized in public. Neither Dick nor Bruce wanted to deal with their public personas, and Tim doesn’t like the attention. Thankfully, Alfred came and let them know the car was out front, and saved them from having to explain.

————————————————————————————————————-

Jason was…adjusting. After so long with the league, caring for Damian, being on his own is shocking. Not to mention his plan was torn apart. With the clown dead, most of his goals were completed.

He’s spent the last couple days trying to come up with a new plan. The best way to help Crime Alley is still to fight fire with fire, so to speak, so he still needs to find a way to take over the drug trade.

But without trying to draw Jo—him, out, Jason doesn’t really want to call himself Red Hood.

He needs a new name.

Robin was taken from him, and it’s not like he really wants that back anyway (he needs pants, thank you very much).

Maybe Phoenix?

Flame bird? But he doesn’t want to be associated with Nightwing, and although the Kryptonian legend may not be widespread knowledge, he would know, and the Justice league would know, and that’s enough.

But is Phoenix intimidating enough to warrant the fear he would need to be a crime lord?

He’ll have to think about that a bit more.

In the meantime, he can still get started.

So he does.

He spends the next two weeks with his hostile takeover of the drug trade.

Cut off a few heads here, shoot a couple of rule breakers there, he’s had a good few weeks.

If only he could stop thinking about Damian, and whether or not he was happy at Wayne Manor.

He did decide to go with Phoenix, the first time someone had asked who he is, it was the first name that popped into his head.

His outfit is a little different than originally planned too, he’d scrapped the helmet and instead opted for a hood and half cape.

His chestplate is a dark gray, same as his cargo pants, and the maroon half cap drapes across one shoulder.

His guns are in holsters on his thighs, and two swords cross behind his back.

He was doing well not thinking of Damian, until the tabloids announced the new Wayne Heir.

There was a picture of Damian filling half the page, the 6 year old scowling at the camera.

He should check on the kid. Bruce isn’t always the most available father around.

—————————————————————————————————————

Living with a six year old has been an adjustment for everyone, and on top of that there’s a new player taking over the drug trade in Crime Alley.

Bruce has been so preoccupied trying to find information on Phoenix, he almost forgets his newest son is upstairs with the rest, until Tim and Damian come running by him. Bruce spins in the chair, watching as Damian chases Tim.

“Damian, what do you have?” He calls out, as Tim ducks around a wall.

“Are you blind? Obviously I have a knife.” Damian doesn’t look at Bruce, aiming to close the distance between him and Tim’s hiding place.

Bruce jumps out of his chair and scoops Damian up, flinching a little as the child stabs him in the arm.

“Damian!” Bruce yells, “We do not stab people!”

“Speak for yourself, I was raised to stab people.” Damian pouts at him.

Bruce raises an unimpressed eyebrow, setting Damian down in the med bay. “Stay.” He grabs a gauze pad, pressing it against his stab wound. “Tim, you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. He did cut me a bit, though.” Tim steps out from around the corner.

“Ok, come here, I’ll patch you up.” He sighs. He ties off the bandage on his own arm, opting to help Tim first. Damian glares as his brother enters the room. “Damian, go to your room. We’ll talk later.”

“But—” Damian protests.

“No arguments. Upstairs.” Bruce turns back to Tim examining the cut on his face and the one on his leg. “How’d he even get your face?”

“We were on the couch and he pulled a knife out of nowhere. He’s really fast.”

Bruce sighs as he cleans the cuts. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“You’re lucky neither of these need stitches. And no, I’m merely asking a question.” Bruce puts butterfly bandages on both cuts and pats Tim’s good leg to let him know he’s good.

Tim hops off, “I was just asking about his life in the league! I didn’t expect him to just pull a knife!”

“Bud, I’m sure being reminded of the home he had to leave behind is a sensitive subject.”

“And so he’s allowed to chase me with a knife?”

“No, and I'm going to talk to him about that.”

Tim huffs and stomps upstairs. Bruce sighs heavily as he finishes cleaning and stitching his own arm up.

Bruce eventually makes his way upstairs, finding soft lights on in Damian’s bedroom.

He gently knocks on the door, and slowly opens it.

“Damian?” He finds the boy wide awake, reading a book in his bed, Pride and Prejudice.

He looks up at Bruce and closes the book, setting it aside. “Yes, Father?”

Bruce sighs, walking over to the bed. “You can’t just stab your brothers everytime they make you upset. This isn’t the League, son.”

Damian scowls. “He insinuated Mother is a whore.”

“Language. I don’t even know how you know that word, but we don’t say things like that.”

“What would you rather me say? Harlot? Bitch—“

“Definitely not the last one.” Bruce drags a hand down his face. “No matter what Tim said, or insinuated, you can’t escalate to physical violence. Talk things out, or come get me or Alfred.”

“I can handle my own problems—”

“See, but that’s the issue. If you ‘handle’ your problems by attempting to maim your brothers, then you can’t handle your own problems. I know how the league does things, but that’s not how this household works.”

“This household does not work.” Damian mutters under his breath.

Bruce flinches at the… was that sarcasm?

If he knew anything about the League, it’s that there were no bits of sarcasm, or humor, tolerated. It almost… reminds him of Jason.

“This household works. It might be out of sheer will, but it works.”

“If it worked, then perhaps you would have four sons instead of three.”

Bruce flinches again, this time more noticeably. No matter how long it’s been, the reminder of his failure will always sting. He failed his son, and he will feel the crushing weight of that guilt for the rest of his life.

“How do you even—” Bruce pauses, taking a breath. “Not the point. Do not stab, slash, or otherwise attempt to maim your brothers. You’re grounded for two weeks. And go to sleep, it’s late.”

Damian rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything else. Bruce takes it as his cue to leave, flicking the lamp off and grabbing Damian’s book as he leaves.

Once in his own room, Bruce looks at the book in his hands.

Jason’s favorite, a book he’d read countless times during the short time he lived with Bruce.

Bruce sits on the edge of his bed and flips through the pages.

His heart stutters as he catches sight of the annotations in the margins.

In a familiar handwriting.

His breath catches in his throat, and he runs a finger down the messy writing.

There’s no way, this can’t be Jason’s copy.

Jason’s copy was lost in Ethiopia, he’d taken it with him and stashed it somewhere. Bruce had never found out where.

Unless he’d just hid it in the manor, which was a possibility. Bruce never messed with Jason’s room, he had promised Jason he would never touch or move his stuff without permission.

But he could have sworn he’d locked that door, and Damian is too short to reach the lock and pick it.

He flips back to the front, and his hand flies to his face as he reads the inscription in the cover.

The same one he’d written there, just before Jason’s 13th birthday, when he’d gifted the boy this copy of the book.

But why did Damian have it?

How did Damian have it?

Before he knew it, Bruce feels tears streaming down his face, and he quickly bats them away.

It’s just a book

Bruce shakes himself out of his spiral, and sets the book on the nightstand. He can’t stop thinking about it though, even as he drifts to sleep.

[nhstadler]

3 9 7  P A G E S

Hey everyone! I realised it's been forever since I posted anything and since I'm not quite finished with the chapter, I thought I'd at least post a story snippet to let you know that I haven't fogotten about you and about HNTBAW. It's just been a little much lately and I've been struggling with writer's block (as always).

But anyway, this is a random scene from the post Hogwarts series (which I might title A Catalogue of Us). It's kind of a flashback memory sort of thing and maybe it's a little confusing and sad, but maybe some of you enjoy it. I hope you had wonderful holidays / Christmas if you celebrate it and I promise I'm still writing.

Let me know what you think if you feel like it... hearing from you guys always helps my motivation, honestly :)

When James fell, the world stood still. I stood still. 

Sometimes I still dream about it. His muddled form falling through the sky, the burst of levitation spells in the pouring rain, like perverse fireworks, missing him again and again and again. There was nothing anyone could have done and yet… 

And yet.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to banish the scraps of the nightmare that still cling to my mind as I wrap the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The air is crisp, laced with salt and the subtle sweetness of the heather that grows along the cliffside, trembling in the breeze. I’ve been staring at the horizon for almost an hour, watching the darkness fade into that bluish glow that only exists in these few minutes before sunrise, when the world is in-between. Like the sky holds its breath for just a moment.

Like I held my breath when I was an ocean away, unpacking my old life into my new flat, barely paying attention to Ludo Bagman’s tinny commentary in the background. I didn’t even know why I had turned on the match in the first place. I should have stayed away, taken advantage of the physical distance, but there was comfort in the familiarity of it. In hearing his name chanted by thousands of voices. I missed him and I hated him a little for it. And then I heard the screams. 

I thought I had lost him before, but this was so much worse.

***

The room is bright, made of sun-drenched walls and filled with flowers and too many people. But I barely notice. James isn’t moving. There is a tangle of tubes, pumping healing potion from the IV bags into his system, mending his broken bones and his cuts and gashes as much as it can. But even magic can only do so much. 

Ginny sees me first. I’m lingering in the doorway like an intruder, not sure if I have a right to be here. I couldn’t not come. I don’t know what to say, though. My throat closes off when our gaze meets over the hospital bed. She’s clutching James’s hand in both of hers like she’s holding on for dear life, her eyes brimming with tears, and I’m crying too, biting my bottom lip to keep myself from sobbing.

“Seth!” Lily calls out, making both Harry and Al look up, but I still don’t know if I’m welcome. Not until Ginny lets go of her son and extends her hand towards me, the faintest of smiles curving her mouth as she summons me to his bedside.

I want to touch him, to feel that he is still here, warm and real and alive, but I don’t dare. There are too many IV lines and bandages and I’m afraid I might hurt him. “How - how is he?”

It’s a useless question, I know it, but there’s still the naive hope that the answer might have changed. That he’ll open his eyes and give me that infuriating half-smile, calling me Woodley and telling me that everything will be alright.

“I’m sorry,” someone says behind me and I turn around to look at the healer that has come into the room. “Only family is allowed in here.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” 

I make to get up, wiping away the tears with shaky fingers, but Ginny’s hand circles my wrist, her bloodshot gaze firmly on the woman in the lime green coat. “She is.”

***

I wanted to buy him some magazines, but half of the stock in the small St. Mungo’s kiosk is about brooms and Quidditch and the other half are gaudy newspapers that still seem to be in a competition over who can print the most disturbing pictures of James plummeting through the air. I was ready to give up and settle on the Kneazle Lover’s Digest when I saw the flashy book pyramid by the checkout. 

“I got you something.” I’m barely in the room when I hold up the shiny hardback with the gaudy cover and James raises an eyebrow at the shirtless guy that takes up most of the front.

“Holy Morgan, what is that, Woodley?” He lets his head fall to the side, smiling at me, even though he is too weak to move. Bruises and scratches still paint brutal patterns across his skin, covering his face and neck, his shoulders, his ribs, but they’re healing. 

Unlike his legs. 

“They had it in the hospital bookshop!” I can barely contain my excitement as I sit down in the chair next to his bed, thumbing through the pages, because this feels like a sign. A very dumb sign, but a sign nonetheless, and I’ll take anything I can get. “No way!” I press the open page against my mouth, my eyebrows arching at James over the edge of the book.

“What?” He’s frowning, amusement still tugging on the corners of his mouth. 

“It’s set in the 1800s.” 

He groans, though the grin on his face definitely dampens the effort. Rain is lashing against the windows, drowning out the steady drip of the IVs and, for a moment, it feels like it used to. Like Sunday mornings at his and Freddie’s flat, when he would refuse to get up and pull me back into bed with him.

“I’m so excited.”

“I bet.” He’s laughing, properly now, and my heart flutters behind my chest. It should know better. Especially because I saw her name flash across his phone screen last night before I left. “How long is that damn thing?”

I flip to the very back of the book, catching a few of the final words even though I try to not read them. “397 pages.”

***

“How many pages?”

He used to ask how many chapters. Then it turned to pages. Because he knows it too - that we only exist like the words on paper, between the pages. Until we reach the last one. The last sentence. 

“191.”

When the story ends, so do we. But ours is a tragedy. Maybe it was always meant to be.

I come back every day. I sit next to his bed and read A Witch’s Guide to Rakes and Romance, blushing fiercely at the spicy scenes but reading it all. James covers Lily’s ears when she’s cuddled up next to him and she complains loudly while Al and Freddie laugh and Harry and Ginny exchange soft, tired smiles.

Sometimes, the room is crowded. Sometimes, it’s just us - James and me and the steady whirring of the machines - and I read to him until he falls asleep. I read to him until twilight creeps into the room and we have to turn on the neon hospital lights. 

I read to him until he can feel his legs again. 

Until the IV lines become less.

Until he can sit up by himself.

“How many?” He says and I don’t look at him.

“16.”

It’s the last chapter. And, though I know that it’s time to go, that this semi-real version of us has an expiration date, I dread every page I turn.

“What if you stayed?” James says, quietly, and I feel like I might choke. I can barely breathe.

What if I stayed?

“I - I can’t.” My fingers are clenching the book in my lap, digging into the cover for something to hold on to. This feels awful, like a second break-up, and I wish I could just fold myself into his arms. 

But I can’t and he doesn’t argue. Because he knows me too well.

His lips are pressed together as he nods, a tear sliding down the side of his face into his pillow and I’m crying too. When he reaches out, I take his hand and weave my fingers through his, careful to not dislodge the catheter in the back of his hand.

“Do you want to hear the ending now?” I ask, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and his gaze slides from my face to the book in my lap, to our intertwined fingers.

“No.” I feel his hold on me loosen, his hand slipping out of my grasp a little. “I don’t want to know how it ends.”

[disneyanddisneyships]

Alaponi "transactional fucking" stage but everytime they were done al would just dip

Like- "oh well! Now that we're done, *dresses up* I need to go meet with someone at the colony!"

Like no cuddle. Bro just dipped.

Cause deers dont mate for life

:)

Warnings: a bit of smut in the beginning ig? Foul language... some angst... alastor probably being ooc..

Aponi moaned as she felt alastor spill into her. Her face was flushed and her hair was messy.

This was transactional. In return for a room at the hotel, Aponi had to practically be the radio demons fuck toy every October.... the only negative thing was that Aponi was in love with him.... but he wasn't in love with her.....

As alastor pulled out he sat upright on the bed putting his clothes back on almost immediately.

He did it every time. He never stayed over. No aftercare, no closeness. Just gone.

"You could stay if you'd ljke," Aponi muttered... hoping that just this once he'd give her a chance and she wouldn't have to wait another year before he considered her existence again.

"I'm afraid I cannot!" Alastor piped up as he took his microphone in his hand and draped his coat over his arm. "I have important business to get to. Goodbye!" He exclaimed, slamming the door on his way out.

Aponi sighed and stood up, using the bathroom and re-brushing her teeth.

She had a performance to get to in about an hour and Val would kill her if she was late.

So, getting dressed in some performanxe clothes and a long coat, she did her hair and grabbed her purse, walking out of the room.

Down in the lobby alastor was speaking with husk. Clearly they were important matters.

However alastor shut his mouth when he saw her and this made Aponi feel REALLY uneasy.

Until Angel piped up.

"Ohhhh sexy mama! You goin ta Val's?" He asked from his place on the couch.

"Yeah. Mal is supposed to drive me but.... she's not here so I'll probably just walk," Aponi replied as she grabbed an apple.

"Alright. Oh, hey you know that new bartender guy?" Angel spoke.

"Uhhh.... yeah," Aponi replied as she leaned over the couch and at her apple.

"Rumor has it he's got a fat ol crush on a certain butterfly demon~" Angel teased.

Aponi didn't see it, but Alastor stiffened up.

"Oh please. No one at that club gives a rats ass about the other... except for the dancers... speaking of that, did you talk to Jen about her twisted ankle? She and I are supposed to perform next week," Aponi stated.

Angel just shook his head.

"Alright well... I should get going," Aponi stated as she threw her half eaten apple away... Val would probably make her puke it up later anyway.

"I could always take you, dear!" Alastor piped up from the bar area.

Aponi looked at him, insecurity on her features.

".. I'm good... thanks though," she muttered.

She hated pretending like what they were doing wasn't happening.... but she was probably a fool to believe an overlord could actually fall in love with someone like her.

"Alrighr well. Bye Angie, bye Husk!" She called out as she left the room.

............

Aponi walked into the club, 5 minutes early, thank Satan.

Now she realized why she didn't walk. The amount of catcallers she had was unbelievable.

As she walked through the club and backstage into the changing rooms, she didn't notice the bartender staring at her with a smile that practically screamed he was in love with her.

[theroyalsims]

PREGNANT AND GLOWING! ELEANORE STEPS OUT WITH IBRAHIM FOR EARLY MARKET STROLL

Pregnancy looks great on Eleanore!

The Countess and Earl of Harvelle were spotted walking around the town square near Briar Park where the two have a home. Locals were reportedly shocked see the royal duo walking around casually -sans security- and sampling the local produce at the market. One vendor noted:

“I didn’t realise that it was Eleanore and Ibrahim at first! I just thought ‘wow, what a beautiful couple,’ but when they came near my stall, I couldn’t believe my eyes. They’re very, very different from what I’ve read about them in the papers. They’re not at all off-putting or snobbish. They were very kind, very gracious. Eleanore asked if she could sample some of my strawberries and she said she loved them. Her husband -who was also really very nice- bought her two bagfuls of them! Even left me a handsome tip!”

They apparently also walked away with a some parsnips, and Eleanore let slip that she’s having the “oddest obsession” over the veg:

“They also bought some parsnips. She said that she hated them before but now, she’s got the oddest obsession over parsnips. I told her it has to be the pregnancy. She laughed when I and told her that I couldn’t get enough of cabbages when I was pregnant with my youngest.”

Local folks over at Briar Park are no strangers to royals. The Queen herself, along with Prince Jacques, are big fans of the open-air market. Prince Jacques, especially, loves chatting with the local farmers during their trips.

 Locals also know better than to badger their royals for photos. One resident shares:

“We let them be. We reckon it must be hard enough to have everyone all up in their business 24/7, why not just let them shop about in peace? But sometimes, some folks are able to sneak a couple of pictures with some of them, but most of us kind of feel bad for them that we just leave them alone. We’re sure they appreciate it.”

For their early morning trip, the Earl cozied up in a designer jumper, which he paired with a green coat. Although temperatures have gotten a little warmer these past couple of days, the foreign royal, who was raised in hot and humid Al-Simhara, is still getting used to Brindleton’s chilly Autumns and Winters.

Countess Eleanore, meanwhile, looked adorable in a teal shift dress, which perfectly showed off her growing baby bump! Pregnancy has reportedly been an adventure for Her Highness, but poor Ibrahim is said to be a nervous wreck. One source claims that the Earl has never been so scared:

“Ibrahim is so tense these days. It started when E had some slight issues during her first trimester, but their doctors have assured them both that everything is going perfectly well. E’s really at peace and relaxed about her pregnancy but Ibrahim has never been so scared. Ibrahim has always been protective of E, but now there’s at least two of them (twins, after all, run in the family) he has to worry about. One bone of contention is E’s choice of footwear. E loves heels. But pregnant E in heels? Ibrahim thinks it’s a bad idea. E assures him that she’s more comfortable in heels than in flats. So as a compromise of sorts, they’ve struck a deal: she’ll stick to chunkier, shorter heels and he’ll always be with her to hold her hand, whenever she’s out wearing them.”

Eleanore also wore a special and sentimental new accessory during her trip to the shops: a monogram “I” necklace, no doubt in honour of her doting husband. However, other royal fans speculate that the “I” stands for the baby’s name. As for the little bun in the oven, no word yet on whether it’s a baby girl or a baby boy. Hmm... what shall it be? Will they be having a little “Isabella” or an “Isaac,” or maybe even an “Ibrahim Jr.?”

So lovely to see these two out and about! And we can’t wait to see Baby Harvelle!

[shade-pup-cub]

Febuwhump 2024, Day 9: Wind & Chain - Bees

Fandom: LOZ/Linked Universe

Summary: Determined to at least have a sip of alcohol after being told no, Wind sneaks a bottle of honey mead, not knowing that interior of the bottle was coated with raw honey. Wind knew he was allergic to bees, but not their honey... He should have listened.

CW: underaged drinking (a single glass), allergic reaction, closed airway

“Wind, put that down.” Time’s ‘Disapproving Dad’ voice was firm, face showing no give in what the youngest wanted to do.

Wind rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on! It’s one swig!”

“No.”

Grumbling, Wind sat the pint of ale that he had been eyeing all night. He sat down as if he was a sack of potatoes being dropped into the chair next to Legend. He crossed his arms over his chest, giving the best mean-mug pout he could give.

“Got caught?” Legend snickered.

“What do you think? I’m a pirate, we drink!”

Warriors leveled the kid with a look. “Does Tetra allow you to drink?” Wind lowered his head.

Twilight ruffled the sun bleached curls, asking, “Why do you wanna drink so bad anyway? There isn’t anything overly grand about it and getting drunk can get messy.”

The youngest looked around the room, everyone relaxed and laughing, enjoying the rare chance to do nothing. “I guess… I don’t know. I just want to, to say that I have. To be like you guys!”

Eight heads turned towards him.

“Like us?” Sky asked first. “You think all of us drink or have drank before?”

“Haven’t you?” Wind tilted his head curiously.

Sky softly smiled. “Skyloft has a strict tradition of the first time you drink any alcohol, it is on your wedding day. It is part of the ceremony. The groom holds the cup for the bride to drink from, then the bride holds it for the groom.” He looked a bit too dreamy while talking about it. He was probably imagining his and Sun’s wedding that was going to happen the next time they made it back to Skyloft.

“Drinking is a big thing in my era.” Wars leaned back some in his chair. “You drink when you eat, when you have friends or family over, during formal gatherings and galas. Gets rather bland after a while.”

Wild did his own head tilt, but it was very wolfie like. “I wonder if that’s how it was pre-Calamity. I had a memory of being at a royal event and trying not to laugh at the face Flora made when she would sip the wine.”

“Have you had any since you woke up?” Wind was now interested in the others' thoughts.

“Today was the first time.”

“Aaand?” Wind bounced slightly in his seat. Wild gave the most stoic face, shoving the drink in his hand into Twilight’s chest. That answer was clear.

Taking a large swig of the new pint, Twi gave the same gesture to Wild with his empty pint. “I was raised by Humans, not Hylians, so I have a higher drinking tolerance. Especially since our drinking age is sixteen. What about you, Old Man?”

“Never.” The uproar that followed his answer had Time laughing. “We don’t have true alcohol in my era, but I have been drunk on multiple occasions.”

Still laughing, Wind asks, “On what, then?”

“Milk.”

Silence…

“Cryptic bastard.” Legend mumbled. “Only the nobles can afford anything worth the damn. Besides, I’m not old enough. Unlike Twilight’s early start, our drinking age is twenty-one.”

“So Fable drinks?” Warriors smiled, knowing he was going to get under the Vet's skin. “I’m sure she’s fun to be around after a few drinks.”

“Warriors, stay clear of my sister.” Legend growled.

“Sister? Wait, Fable is your sister?!”

With the new information being loudly discussed, Four and Hyrule made their way to Wind’s side. Four nudged the younger’s arm. “Drinking won’t kill you unless you are being irresponsible with it.”

“That’s anything in life.” Hyrule added, still laughing at Wars and Legend. Both had landed on the ground in a friendly rough housing fight.

Well into the night, Wind couldn’t sleep. He was homesick and nothing he did was helping him to keep his eyes shut. The others were no help with hoe some of them snored so bad they could wake the dead. He counted Seagulls in his head, but that just made him miss home more. Giving up, he quietly grabbed an extra treat Wild left in the room. It was thick caramel covered apple slices with a drizzle of dark chocolate.

With a bit more of a full belly, Wind yawned, but his mouth was now lined with the thick caramel and it stuck to his teeth. Something to drink would do the trick!

Tip toeing back to his bag, he snagged his canteen. Only issue was that there was nothing inside. Sitting that back down he looked around. They hadn’t restocked on water, teas, milk or anything else that served as a hydrator. But they did have a few bottles of mead…

‘Just a sip to get my mouth cleared.’ He kept telling himself.

A bottle of Honey Mead and a small cup later, Wind darted to the bathroom that joined the two large rooms they had rented out for the night and locked the doors. Looking at the bottle, it had a big honey bee on it. He hated bees!

Biting his bottom lip, he uncorked the dark bottle, poured half a glass and smelt it. His nose wrinkled at it, but it still smelt sweet from the honey. He shrugged and had it down in one. It had a subtle burn, followed by the smooth sweet honey.

He should have read the back of the bottle. Yes, the initial drink was made with honey, burning away the properties that Wind was allergic to. On the back it said that extra honey was added after distilled.

The door knob from the opposite room jiggled. “One minute!” Wind loudly whispered.

He was about to be caught. He put the cork back in the bottle, rinsed the cup out and was about to rinse his mouth out when he felt it. It was getting harder to swallow, harder for air to be breathed. He looked into the mirror, seeing the signs of an allergic reaction: neck and face puffing, skin reddened and splotchy, hives forming on his cheeks. The panic set in quickly, knocking over the glass he drank out of and it shattered all across the floor.

“Wind, are you okay? What just broke?” It was Wild.

“W-Wi-” He couldn’t get the other’s name out. His eyes watered in fear as he reached the door, fumbling to unlock it. He swung it open and was met with a very worried Wild.

“Wind! Holy Hylia, what happened? Did you get stung by a bee?”

Wind wasn’t even going to ask how Wild knew of that allergy. He took Wild’s wrist and pulled him into the bathroom. He wheezed as he presented the bottle he had drank from.

“You drank this?” Wild spun the bottle around, looking for anything he needed to know. “Shit Wind! It has raw honey in it.”

‘Am I gonna die?!’ Wind asked in sign.

“Not on my watch. Sit down, I need my slate.” Wind was grateful for the urgency behind Wild’s movements and his stealth. Last thing Wind wanted was one clothes, Time specifically, to wake up and see what had happened.

Though it was only a few seconds, Wind could no longer get air in. When Wild arrived back at his side, he slipped off the seat of the toilet, crashing into Wild.

“Wind? Damn it!” A pink fairy was released from Wild’s slate and she fluttered above the two until she swirled between Wind’s face and chest. He took in small breaths, eyes still as wide as saucers looking up the other.

Wild pulled out a Hearty Potion as he situated Wind into a sitting position. “Drink.”

Wind shook his head no. ‘Not one of those. We haven’t restocked!’

Wild rolled his eyes, pulling out a Fairy Tonic instead. “Drink or I’m forcing it down your throat.”

Wind saw the fire in Wild’s eyes and didn't go against him. He took a few sips until his throat loosened enough that he could drink the whole thing. He gulped in air greedily, leaning heavier into Wild’s side.

“How did you know?” He softly asked.

“Know what?”

“That I am allergic to honey and to bees?”

“As the designated cook, I needed to know if I should avoid making certain things. Your Granny told me about your allergies and your dislike the first time I got to see your world.”

“Oh.”

They sat there letting Wind gain his composure again before they needed to go back to bed. When that time came and the glass was cleaned up, Wind grabbed hold of Wild’s hand, silently asking to not be left alone. How could the Champ say no? He couldn’t. And if anyone asked about why Wild and Wind were sharing a bed, the answer was that Wild had a nightmare.

~

“Who drank some of my mead?!” Warriors asked as they packed up the rooms.

“No one drank your nasty bottle of honey mead.” Legend waved a dismissive hand.

“Vet, did you drink it?”

“I just said it was nasty and you think I did it?”

“Yes!”

As the two bickered over who did or didn’t drink Warriors alcohol, Time stood next to Wind and asked in a softer tone, “Wind, did you have anything to do with this?”

Wind turned his eyes up towards the eldest all innocently, saying, “I’m allergic to honey.”