#Archie. Archie. your desk is on fire

[steampunk-tennis-ball]

{ @husband-tennis-ball )

Cress jumped slightly, and then frowned at the noise. While explosions weren't exactly... uncommon in Cress's life, they hardly ever meant good things. Cress sighed and stood up from his couch, setting his book down as he did.

Explosions usually meant the Rizzler. Cress pulled his hair back in a quick ponytail and went to find the source of the noise.

He wandered a bit, until he saw the small trails of smoke puffing out from underneath a door. He knocked, forgetting to check the name plate.

"Everything okay in there?"

Cress leaned back, waiting a moment, his eyes finally settling on the engraved name.

Steampunk Tennis Ball Archie

Cress sucked in a quick breath, wondering if it was too late to leave and pretend he hadn't heard anything...

Archie pushes themself off the floor. They cough, rapidly slamming their fist against their chest to get ash and smoke out of his lungs.

They stand on sore legs and rub a hand against their hip. It's likely going to bruise if the floor tiles (Have they always been that hard?) have anything to say about it.

He eyes his burning desk warily and heads towards the door.

"I'm alright!"

They turn the door knob, opening it just enough to see Cress in his entirety and give him a polite smile. Though, the effect is ruined by the soot covering their face and torso.

"Nothing to worry about, dear," they focus their attention on getting the fire extinguisher off the wall, "just a technological malfunction."

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Regina Mills x fem!reader

Chapter 1: I Need to Work on my Time Management

When the dreams faded away, you were met with the green duvet wrapping your body in a cocoon of warmth. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and looked over at your alarm clock.

“Shit!”

After realizing it was past nine–and that you were one hundred percent about to piss off your boss–you jumped out of bed and got ready as fast as you were able to while still looking presentable. You weren’t scared of many things–spiders, snakes, and other common phobias never really bothered you–but the wrath of the woman you worked for made you shake in your boots.

You ran out the door of your apartment and rushed down the stairs, almost falling in the process.

“Good morni–”

“Morning, Archie!” you called, looking back at him.

Oh, god, she’s gonna kill me. This is the second time in a month this has happened. I’m gonna get fired.

Praying to whatever higher power was above, you begged for your boss to arrive late today and spare you any beration that would follow your tardiness.

As you run up the stairs, your chest burns for oxygen. You clutch your side as a stitch forms and feel a wave of relief wash over you when you finally sit down at your desk. You were just about to thank the gods above for the absence of your boss when you hear the door to her office open.

“You’re late…again.” Regina Mills. The woman could stop a whole crowd of people with a single glare. She stood tall in the doorway with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow raised.

“I am so sorry, Mayor Mills,” you shake. “I know this is the third time I’ve been late, but–”

“I don’t want excuses,” she snaps. “I want you to be here on time. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today.” She walks over to your desk with a stack of manilla folders and drops them in front of you. “But, don’t let it happen again. I want this paperwork on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Yes, Madam Mayor.”

Walking back to her office, Regina pauses, turning back around. “And, if anyone calls, tell them I’m out of the office for the day.” 

“You’re getting him today?” you smile.

A gleam appears in Regina’s eyes as she smiles brightly. “I am. The adoption agency called me a few days ago.”

“What are you naming him?”

“Henry,” Regina answers. “Henry Daniel.”

[emisprocrastinatingbywriting]

Alone and Forsaken

Chapter 7 Summary:

Two weeks after your heat and Joel Miller remained by your side constantly but refused to touch you. Promises are made but after an outburst, can Joel finally open up to you?

Warnings: Past Trauma, Minor Injuries, Angst and Fluff, Smut, Reader & Joel need hugs fr, Local middle aged man tries to open up, Fluffiness overload, Joel gets injured.

A/N: I'm back! Third year at uni is in the bag but exams almost killed me. It's a long one so buckle up for more backstory on the reader, more loverboy Joel and painful confessions. Fluff and smut galore, as always. Warning that some of reader's memories include physical assault and Joel dives into some of his trauma. Take care of yourselves as always!

Chapter 7/20

Chapter 7: Home

“Bring her around back, I want to talk to her.” 

A pair of arms wrapped around you and hauled you out of the trunk. A dull throb was pulsing behind your eyes as the guard threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Blood dripped from your face and you watched through bleary eyes as it splattered against the back of the guard’s coat. 

Two months. Two fucking months of being free, and they had found you because of a mistake. After a month of keeping fires low, slinking around the outskirts of towns and leaving no traces behind, you had been lulled into a sense of comfort. Escaping Paul had been the easy part, traveling alone as an unmated omega was the hard part. After too many close calls with roving bands of raiders that picked through the wreckage of the world for anything they could steal, or anyone, you decided that cities were not for you. 

After walking for days along a cracked interstate with nothing but trees to keep you company, you came across a weathered town that looked like it had been dilapidated long before the outbreak. Most of the buildings were barely standing, years of neglect making them shake and shiver in the wind. You walked for nearly an hour before you found a structure that didn’t look like it was going to be torn down by the next rainstorm. 

Sat at the very edge of town, away from the main road and any of the residential buildings was a small diner that looked frozen in time. As you pushed open the front door, the bell that hung over it announced your entry. Freezing for a moment with your ears peeled for any indication of danger, the dust covered space greeted you with silence. You relaxed and crept slowly through the diner. 

The checkered floors and leather booths reminded you of the Archie comics that your dad used to keep in the bathroom before the outbreak. It was a little run down, with dusty windows and peeling pink paint on the walls, but you loved it. You swept the building for any infected that could be lurking in the shadows, hands shaking as you braced for a stalker to attack. However, you found that your only company was a lonely skeleton in the back office. The shotgun was still propped between their knees and a jagged hole glared at you from the back of the stranger’s head. You winced at the brutal scene, quietly apologizing to the stranger as you eased the gun from their grasp. 

The gun felt weird in your hands, too long and heavy with your only previous experience in shooting being a handgun. Still, dodging infected and raiders for the last month with nothing but a hunting knife had been close to impossible. You thought of your close calls. You thought of the shoe you had left behind in a department store after barely managing to squirm out of the grasp of an attacker. You thought of the night you had spent hidden in a vent while a ruthless group of alphas grew progressively angrier as they tried, and failed, to sniff you out. Suddenly the unwieldy 12 gauge felt like a luxury compared to your inevitable fate without it. As gently as you could, you flicked the safety on and placed it on the desk before looking around. 

The office itself had clearly doubled as the stranger’s hideaway after the outbreak, with a cot left still unmade and jugs of water left from the previous occupant. The kitchen was still mostly stocked and had semi salvageable expired cans of food left on the shelves. Cobwebs caught in your hair as you moved through the place. The front windows were cloaked in dirt and overgrown shrubbery, effectively shrouding the inside of the dining room from prying eyes. After a month of constant running, this place felt like a sign that you were finally safe from the place you had once called home. You were free. 

The month you spent living in the abandoned diner was the first time you felt like yourself. Days were spent pilfering through the abandoned town for anything of use, trading the modest clothes you escaped in for more breathable fabrics. After tossing the old outfit, you managed to get lucky finding some more shells for your gun, some soap and even a pair of boots that could replace your threadbare sneakers. Despite the growing pile of treasures in the tiny office, the real winner was the stash of smutty romances you stumbled upon. 

The banned books that Jake had slipped to you back at camp were nothing compared to these. After two weeks, you had already burned through at least six. The best one, in your opinion, was the one with the handsome, older crime boss who finds a lonely bookkeeper and whisks her off into his chaotic life. After your second time rereading the story you decided it was time to pick up a hobby that wasn’t going to throw you into a heat.

You were unsure if Paul or Josiah were still looking for you but they were not the only threat. After some deliberation, you decided it was time to brush up on your self defense. For the next few days you jabbed and sliced at the air with your knife, trying to perfect your form in case any raider jumped out at you. With that perfected, you moved on to practicing your shot. 

The first attempt was rough, the force from it nearly knocking you over, but you kept at it. Before long, trees, buildings, mailboxes and stop signs all became your targets. You walked freely through town with a gun in your hands and nobody to answer to. It made you feel powerful. A stupid feeling to have in hindsight. 

Two months of dodging your fate ended with one of Josiah’s men taking you by surprise. The moment you returned from a stroll through town, the nameless alpha had slammed the but of a rifle into your nose. You tried to reach for the shotgun but it was kicked away, after which a boot entered your field of vision and knocked you unconscious. A bump in the road had awoken you in the trunk. After a cramped ride where you tried to not pass out from the pain in your skull, you were finally back home. 

You could only assume that what you were being carried towards was your own dramatic execution. Josiah’s future words rang in your ears as you imagined him declaring that no one, not even family, was above his word. You imagined the tightness of your mother’s features as they hung you and hoped Rachel knew enough to keep Miriam away. She would be kicking and screaming at the guards. You could see it all so clearly and it didn’t even scare you anymore. In this world, there were worse fates. At least you had tasted freedom for a moment. 

The wind was knocked out of you as the guard dumped you onto the ground. You groaned, a sharp sting growing on your side as you tried to get your bearings. Before you could place yourself, a large hand came down and wrenched your head backwards. Tears formed in your eyes from the sting in your scalp and you struggled to focus your bleary eyes. 

“Welcome back Angel, you’ve been missed.” 

As the fogginess in your vision dissipated, Paul’s pale face appeared with his thin lips pulled into a sinister grin. His blue eyes raked over your figure as you struggled weakly, amusement and sick lust making him smile wider. Paul tightened his grip and you winced. At that moment, you hated him so much for everything he had done and hated him even more for everything he was bound to do. Before you could even think about it, a wad of spit flew from your mouth and landed on his pale cheek. 

Paul cussed and you laughed in his spit soaked face as it shifted into something much darker. In an instant he slammed your body down to the ground. Your skull thumped back against the earth and your ears started to ring. A groan bubbling up from your throat was cut off as Paul wrapped his hands around your neck. His eyes were cold in comparison to the sick pleasure portrayed on his face. You used every bit of strength to fight him off but it was no use. Paul laughed and leaned over you, his face inches from yours as he spoke. 

“You know, if it was anyone else I would have let it go. But you,” your eyes bulged as his grip tightened, “You’re different. Sneaky, mouthy, and such a fucking tease. I knew you needed a strong alpha like me to train you, someone who wouldn’t spare the rod on your entitled ass.”

Despite the dots speckling the corners of your vision, you fought him as hard as you could. The smacks to his arms and chest got progressively weaker as your body succumbed to his grip around your neck. Your chest burned with the need for air, but you tried desperately to stay awake for as long as you could. This is it, you thought, this is how I’m going to die. 

Just before the lack of oxygen finally took you under, Paul leaned down and whispered in your ear, “It’s okay Angel, you’ll be mine soon enough.” 

-

A cry echoed in the quiet room. Your heart raced painfully in your chest, making it nearly impossible to breathe as you choked down sobs. The walls shrunk around you and the need to flee your surroundings suddenly became overwhelming. 

As you moved to get up, a heavy weight across your chest stopped you. Terror pierced your racing heart as the warm object pinned you to the sheets. Paul’s grip on your neck still lurked in the corners of your mind and you started to thrash against the weight. A masculine grunt came from your left and you screeched, wrestling your way out from under the stranger. Clumsily, you dropped onto the floor and rolled away, scuttling back until your shoulder blades hit the wall. 

“Darling? Wha - Hey, where’d you go?”

Your eyes snapped back up to the bed and the memory you were trapped in moments before began to slink away. A shaky sigh escaped your lips at the sight of a very groggy and confused looking Joel. He blinked down at you as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Joel’s curls were adorably flattened on one side of his head, meanwhile the other side looked like he had suffered an electrical shock. You sighed at the sight. The softness he exuded in the mornings suited him. You smiled weakly at him and his eyes narrowed at your trembling form against the wall. 

Slowly, like a hunter trying not to scare a wobbly deer, Joel eased himself onto the floor. You tried to focus on tracing the scars on his burly chest with your eyes, unwilling to look at him head on as he knelt before you. Joel cupped your face, his rough hands making you hum as he tried to tilt your face towards him. After a few moments of dodging eye contact, you relented and slid your gaze up to meet his. 

“Baby,” was all he said before you immediately broke down. 

Joel shushed you as you burrowed your face into his neck, crying against his skin as he leaned back against the side of the bed. Gingerly, he pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his strong arms around you. He began to rub soothing circles against your hips, letting you snuffle at his musk as he whispered sweet nothings. You cried and Joel held you, pulling you back into his embrace each time you tried to pull away prematurely. After the third time that you tried to pull away from him, he snapped. 

“God dammit honey, just cry. I won’t judge ya, just stop pulling away for Christ’s sake.” 

You laughed at his words. It was like Joel knew you better than you knew yourself, like he knew that you had always had to be strong. He wanted you to be soft with him and so you let yourself cry. After a few minutes of sobbing against him, the shaking slowly ceased as the dream receded from your mind. 

“Had another dream huh?” Joel asked quietly. 

He sighed at your silent nod. 

The dreams were a new addition to your night and they had taken a toll. After your heat had petered out, his rut had followed. You were worried at first, scared that he would retreat back to his place on the couch and pretend that nothing had happened. Joel had said he loved you during his rut, but he couldn’t have meant it. Right? The fear of losing him had plagued your mind the first morning. However, after a mere ten minutes of needless worrying, you were pleasantly surprised by a kiss dropped into your hair at breakfast. 

“No oatmeal, as requested darling,” was murmured against your bedhead as Joel placed the plate in front of you. 

Once you had bugged him about his promise that you could help out, the two of you had cleaned up in peaceful silence. Joel seemed to be in good spirits, even rolling his eyes when you whipped him with a towel halfway through the task. Despite the stern look on his face, you could see the small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips. The first night after your heat with Joel was perfect. With the burning need that raged through your bodies finally quelled, the two of you had slept soundly in each other’s arms. 

It was the second night that a nightmare about Paul jerked you from sleep. Despite Joel’s vehement assurances, you were mortified at the memory. He had woken up that night to you kicking and screaming at him. As you fought against him, he had expertly rolled the two of you over and caged you in. Joel was patient that night, using gentle words to coax you back to reality until you were crying in his arms. 

After that first nightmare, two weeks passed and every night the memory of Paul would come back to haunt you. The recurring dreams made you dread sleep. Each night, you tried everything to ignore the urge to rest. You read, you tried and failed to play guitar, you drew terrible caricatures that made Joel laugh, and you even risked his wrath by asking him about his past. Unfortunately for you, Joel had learned how to dodge your questions and began to take that as a cue that you needed to sleep. You tried to evade it but eventually he dragged you to bed, no matter how many probing questions you sent his way. 

With two weeks gone, nothing had changed. Paul appeared each night to torment you and Joel comforted you afterwards. You felt guilty but he refused to accept any apology. 

“S’not real darling. You’re here, you’re with me. I gotcha baby,” Joel crooned as you tried to match his steady breaths. 

The shakes slowly petered out and you sighed, kissing his shoulder in thanks before you leaned back to look at him. Joel’s face nearly always remained schooled but his emotions were plain as day in his eyes. Worry, sadness, anger, and love, all danced in the pools of brown as they raked over your figure.  

“It was him again, from when they caught me. He was choking me and no matter how hard I -,” you stopped and shook your head before the sobs started again. 

There were a few other memories that had resurfaced in the past two weeks but that was the only one that came back consistently. Joel had listened to your account of the memory in full the first night it appeared, and you watched as he tried not to burst the blood vessel in his forehead. Rage poured off of him and soured his comforting scent, pulling a whine from you that forced him to soften his anger. He had remained soft every night since. 

Joel pulled you from your thoughts as his forehead knocked against yours gently. You closed your eyes, breathing the same air as him for a moment as he brushed his hands up and down your sides. The warmth that radiated off of his skin eased the chill of the early morning and you sunk further into his lap as Joel tried to gather his words. 

“I know that… I’ve… Well, you know after Sarah, there were a lot of nights where… Fuck… And with El- no… Shit honey, m’sorry, I’m real bad at this.” 

You giggled and Joel huffed a laugh before he tried again. 

“Memories have a bad habit of chasing you. And I’ve deserved mine for everything I- … Well, anyways, I know how it feels to have dreams make you feel like you did when they happened, but they’re not real. Not anymore, even if it feels like it,” he said. 

Without opening your eyes, you asked quietly, “What happened to yours? Will my… Do they ever go away?”

Joel stiffened for a moment and you winced, rubbing your face against his neck until you felt him slowly relax again. His rut had certainly forced him to be vulnerable with you and after it was over, Joel tried hard to not close himself off again entirely. Whether it be through fleeting kisses or soft words, Joel Miller was trying for you, even though you could tell it was hard for him. It made you love him all the more. 

“Honestly I don’t know. I had them every night before we… Well -,” he cleared his throat, “- before we - er - got together. But now I - I don’t know. They’re just gone. Maybe they’ll come back one day. I hope not, but who knows.” 

You snorted. 

“You have literally knotted me and you can’t bring yourself to say that we fucked? I can. We fucked. Easy as that, see?,” you jabbed. 

Joel rolled his eyes and leaned forward to bite playfully at your shoulder as you squealed. 

He tsked, “Tryin’ to be a gentleman here darling. Christ, you’ve got some mouth on ya.”

You laughed at his words and Joel smiled at your change in demeanor before you grew serious once more. 

“I really hope my dreams go away too,” you whispered. 

Joel made a sympathetic noise as you sat there sullenly, carding your fingers through the salt and pepper hair that covered his chest as you tried to blink away tears. Before you could sink too far into yourself, he snatched one of your hands from his chest and brought it to his lips. The small act made you forget the misery that panged in your heart and you smiled at him. 

“Made you something,” he murmured. 

Excitement rushed through you and you perked up. Joel laughed and lifted you back onto the bed, placing you gently on the soft sheets before he moved to get up. Before he could escape, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. Joel let out a surprised noise as your lips met his, freezing for a millisecond before he leaned in. 

One calloused hand pushed you forward by the small of your back while the other held your neck in place. His tongue ran along the seam of your lips and you moaned, granting him access to your mouth. You whined at the heat that radiated off of Joel, all you could think about was how his warm body felt against your own while he slammed into you. Need crept up from your core, different from the need you experienced during your heat but no less demanding.  

Before the two of you could get too carried away, Joel broke the kiss abruptly. His cheeks were dusted with pink and his lips were swollen. A string of spit connected your lips as you parted and you whined at the sight. You watched as Joel’s dilated pupils looked down at your lips, his irises slivers around the all consuming black that sent shivers down your spine.  

You wanted this. You wanted him so badly that you could hardly think but as you moved to lean in once more, Joel cleared his throat and stood up. The whine that left you was embarrassing but you didn’t care, and it seemed neither did he. Without another word, he leaned down once more, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek before he stood up.  

“Just gotta go get it, one sec.” 

Joel spun on his heel and waltzed out of the room, leaving you with wetness gathering between your legs. You tried not to be annoyed but it was hard. He had been more open in his feelings for you since his rut but kept his body off limits. 

After days of his tongue, fingers and cock making you cum until drool dripped from the corners of your mouth, he cruelly shut off the tap. It was frustrating, but you tried to make due with the sweet words and heated makeouts. It was better than nothing. You needed Joel in any way he would have you, which made you feel progressively more pathetic each time he rejected you but you ignored the sting in hopes that he would break someday. 

Joel interrupted your sulking as he came back into the room. He cautiously stepped forwards and smiled nervously. You swallowed a laugh at the alpha’s boyish demeanor as he stopped in front of you. Joel sighed and thrusted the gift out from behind his back. 

“It’s not much darling but I - Well, I don’t know. I just think that if we had met before the outbreak I would’ve gotten you flowers. But I mean, I can’t just go to the store anymore so I don’t know, I made this,” he explained shyly. 

In his hand was a wooden carving. It was not unlike the carvings that adorned the living room, except this one was delicate. It was a rose made of a light colored wood with petals carved to perfection. They bloomed outward from a skinny stem that was adorned with two small leaves. You gasped and took it from him, twirling the gift in your hand before you spied small lettering under one of the leaves. In careful lines, he had carved a small I love you.

Joel cleared his throat and you looked up. His jaw was set with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he analyzed your reaction. You opened your mouth to praise his gift when he suddenly reached out and tried to snatch it back. 

“Joel!,” you admonished, slapping his hands away. 

“S’nothing darling. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea. You don’t need to guard my feelings, it’s a dumb gift. Barely even a gift really,” Joel rushed out as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment. 

After placing the gift down on the bed, you crawled over to the edge and rose to place your hands on his cheeks. His dark eyes snapped to yours, breath catching in his throat as you pressed a soft peck to his lips. 

“I love it Joel. I haven’t been given a lot of gifts but that one is definitely my favorite. Thank you. And, um hello? You can’t just give me a gift and then take it back. That’s like against the rules or something. I love it. I love YOU,” you chided. 

A small smile bloomed on Joel’s face and he looked away, scuffing his feet against the floor for a moment before he looked back up at you. The redness in his cheeks grew as his teeth worried his bottom lip, guarding the goofy grin that threatened to break out on his face at your praise. 

“Well alright then baby, m’glad you like it,” Joel murmured, leaning forward to brush his mouth against yours. 

Jumping at the chance, you dove into him again. You pressed the front of your body against Joel’s as your lips met. He groaned and placed his rough hands on your hips, yanking you into him as his tongue mingled with yours. Heart pounding in your ears, your shaky hands tugged at Joel’s soft curls and drifted down his abdomen. Just as you reached his belly button he stopped and pulled back. A pinched groan rattled your chest as he placed his forehead against yours again. 

“Dunno if it was worthy of THAT big of a thanks baby,” he chuckled. 

You giggled and nipped at the scruff on his jaw as you whispered, “Maybe not, but what if I want you to fuck me anyways?” 

Joel groaned as you worried the skin on his neck between your teeth, the action making his hips twitch forward on impulse. You felt his resolve slipping and you pulled back, eyes full of longing as you waited for him to do something. Anything. 

“Darling I -,” Joel halted and sucked his teeth. 

He stared at your lips for a moment, seemingly at war with himself while you squirmed before him. The impatient whine that rang out seemed to sober him and Joel sighed.  

“I should get to making us some breakfast. Can’t have you starving on me when we’ve got chores to be getting to.” 

Joel raised your hands to his lips and kissed the backs of them. He ignored your groan, leaving you high and dry on the bed for a second time that morning as he practically jogged out of the room. You sat there slack jawed and frustrated, staring at his hulking frame as he scampered down the hallway. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you scoffed. 

A booming laugh echoed from the end of the hall and you cussed. You hadn’t meant for your distress to be that loud but your desperation for Joel had loosened your lips. Sighing, you slipped from the warm sheets. 

Save for the undergarments and pants, the clothes that Joel had originally intended to be yours were all but abandoned. Instead, you found yourself in one of Joel’s sweaters or shirts constantly. You loved it and he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his eyes had lit up the first time you came out in his clothes and continued to since. Plus, the act of wearing his things was like a cheap replacement to the mark you hoped he would one day claim you with. 

A chill ran down your spine from the frigid air and you threw one of his flannels over a pair of jeans, tucking the excess fabric into the waistline to keep it from swallowing you whole. You weren’t tiny by any means, but Joel’s broadness meant that his shirts were practically dresses on you. After you shoved your feet into some knit socks, you combed through the knots in your hair. Looking into the mirror, you sighed at your appearance and cursed the outbreak for leaving you without beauty products. Prodding at your hair only seemed to anger the unruly strands so you gave up and turned away from the bedroom. 

As you padded into the kitchen, the savory smell of Joel’s cooking wafted in the air. He stood at the stove, humming an unfamiliar tune as he stirred the leftover stew in the pot. He turned and smiled, nodding towards the mug of steaming tea that he left on the counter for you. Shrugging off your thanks, he turned back to the stove. 

You eyed the muscles in his strong back flex as he stirred for a moment before you crept up behind him. He chuckled as your arms wrapped his midsection, burrowing your face into his shirt to huff at the deep aroma of sandalwood and bergamot. It tickled your nostrils as you breathed in deeply, making you hum as you swayed against him. Joel squeezed your hand and swayed with you for a moment. 

“How ‘bout you get the table set and I’ll finish up?,” Joel asked. 

You sighed, giving him one last tight squeeze before you let go and moved towards the cutlery. The front end of the cabin was bursting with light as you strolled towards the table. The morning light shone down on the scuffed wood as you placed the cutlery. Your mind wandered as you worked. 

It was the same scuffed wood that had rubbed against your front as Joel had fucked you stupid two weeks prior. The thought of it made you smirk as you remembered his animalistic thrusts. The both of you had been so desperate for each other and now the lust in Joel was just gone. You tried not to dwell on the loss, instead focusing on the thought of him slapping your pussy and forcing you into a mind breaking orgasm as you tried not to cry. 

Joel interrupted your thoughts as he emerged from the kitchen with two steaming bowls of food. Picking up on your heated expression immediately, Joel’s eyes darted between the table and you before he chuckled. He shook his head at you, giving you a playfully stern look as he placed breakfast down on the table. You gave him a nervous smile as he pulled out your chair and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. The small act of pulling out your chair was something that he had taken to doing every day, but it never failed to make you blush.  

The meal was shared in comfortable silence. His foot knocked against yours and you knocked him back. After one too many nudges, Joel reached down and grabbed your ankle, playfully yanking you forward off your seat.You yelped and dropped the spoon that was halfway to your mouth as you grabbed the edge of the chair to keep your ass on the seat. Joel looked very pleased at the shock on your face as he returned to his food. 

“Alright, now eat. We’ve got some chores to finish before the day gets too gone,” he chuckled, placing your foot back on the ground before he moved to shovel stew into his mouth. 

You poked him with your foot one last time and giggled at his pointed look before you returned to your breakfast. 

 - Joel - 

Joel watched as the wind ruffled your hair, the sunlight accentuating the high points of your cheekbones as you stooped down towards the river. He tried not to stare but he couldn’t help it. 

He was enamored with how you moved and how carefully you treated everything you touched. 

Even him, the man that had burned Salt Lake City to the ground with his bare hands. The man that poisoned everything he touched. You even treated him with the utmost care. It made him feel warm and wanted, as well as slightly guilty. Joel didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you. He knew that, but his feelings for you made it all so much more complicated. 

You moved to fill the bucket with water. He watched the muscles in your arms flexing as you drew it back to the surface and up over the bank. There was a part of Joel that wanted to go over and chivalrously offer his assistance but he knew you would just shoo him away. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you could lift it, he was well aware of how strong you were. It was just that he liked having someone to fuss over. It gave him purpose. 

Joel sighed wistfully as he watched you stand and wipe at the sweat that covered your brow. As he watched you bend over to pick up the bucket, the breath stalled in his lungs. The jeans that you chose today did little to hide the curves that had filled out since your arrival and he cussed as he felt himself harden. 

For two weeks, Joel kept away from you. The memories of your curves, your pretty moans, and your tight cunt all haunted him. Joel wanted nothing more than to stomp over and tear the bucket from your hands. He wanted to tear your pants down and pound into your wet heat right there amongst the snow until you screamed, but he refrained. 

Why? That was a question Joel asked himself more and more with each passing day. He had already had you more times than he could count, with each time better than the last, but it wasn’t enough to convince him. He couldn’t do it because he needed to make things right. 

Before the outbreak happened, he hadn’t dated much. When Sarah was small, she was an easy excuse. Nobody ever expected the unmated alpha to give up time with his precious pup. However, the older Sarah got, the harder it became to attribute his unwillingness to try on his increasingly independent preteen. 

Joel had really tried a couple of times but it never seemed to work out. He even let Sarah and Tommy convince him to sign up for one of those god awful dating sites once but that was also a failure. Joel chalked it up to lack of chemistry or his gruffness each time, but the truth was that he simply didn’t want to sit in a dimly lit restaurant and make small talk with someone who would blanch after he told them about Sarah. He couldn’t stand anyone blanching at the thought of meeting his favorite person, it made him feel sick to his stomach. 

Two years before the outbreak, after a date told him that he needed to be realistic about his prospects as an unmated alpha who already had a pup, Joel had simply stopped trying and resigned himself to commitment-free hookups. He preferred it that way anyways. He had his little girl and his idiot brother, what more could he ask for? Once the world had ended, dating and love in general vanished in his mind. It was all about survival. Any dreams of romantic interest or mating was set aside for quick fucks to keep himself from slamming his head through a wall. Nevertheless, after meeting you, Joel remembered how he used to dream about it before Sarah died.  

He remembered imagining what it would be like to meet his true mate. His mind would drift off on worksites, thinking about how he might treat them while he waited out a burst of rain in his truck. Joel imagined giving his future mate flowers, opening doors and pulling out seats, giving them soft kisses at the end of a nice date. 

He wanted to be the guy that did things just to make his mate smile, all while keeping his touches fleeting until the moment was perfect. That was how he was raised. That was how a gentleman would approach someone they wanted to mate. That was who you deserved. Joel wanted so badly to be that alpha for you, despite the fact that his rut had foiled part of the plan and he now spent most of his time around you hiding his raging boner. He was so close to breaking, and he knew that you were very aware of it. It drove him nuts. 

When you had crawled to the end of the bed and wrapped yourself around him, dressed in nothing but his shirt and a cute pair of blue panties, he had nearly lost it. Joel had tried not to think about the slick that undoubtedly pooled in the fabric. He tried not to think about loosening you up with his tongue before driving his cock deep inside of your tight cunt. Practically keeling over with the effort, Joel had barely managed to peel himself away from you so he could scamper off to the kitchen under the guise of making breakfast. 

As Joel stood before an unchecked trap in the afternoon sun, he tried to inconspicuously re-adjust himself before you had the chance to look up at him. When he agreed to let you help him with chores he didn’t think about the fact that he would have to listen to your grunts of exertion and see the sweat glistening deliciously on your body as you worked. Day in, day out, it was the sweetest form of torture. A form of torture that made him lock himself in the bathroom at the end of each day to pitifully tug at his cock in the shower, muffling his groans into his fist as he came shamefully to the thought of you. 

As you approached him, Joel quickly flipped himself into the waistline of his pants and smoothed his coat over his front to hide any evidence of his arousal. The last thing he needed was to see your knowing smirk at his hard dick. It would only give you more ammo to pierce through his already weakened armor. For years Joel had gone without so much as a twitch from his cock, and now the damn thing never knew when to rest. He was powerless when it came to you. 

“I’m gonna head back and shower if that’s it. Do you need any help with the trap? You’ve been standing over it for a hot minute,” you asked sweetly. 

Joel’s cock throbbed painfully against the confines of his jeans at the sweet words and the way you looked up at him. The whine that clawed its way up his throat was covered in a strangled cough as he knelt down to mess with the trap. Joel felt your gaze on the back of his head but he elected to ignore it. He knew that if he looked up he would be burying his face in between your pillowy thighs in an instant. 

“Yeah uh, that’s fine. M’ just gonna be another minute out here and then I’ll be in,” Joel mumbled as he prodded at the empty trap. 

Joel waited for you to leave but your feet stayed rooted to the ground in front of him. With no other choice, he stood and slowly met your gaze. A line formed between the brows of your pinched face. He watched as you wrestled with your thoughts and tried not to puke from nervousness. 

“You could… um… You could always join me. In the shower, I mean. If you wanted to,” you proposed. 

The hopeful look on your face was too much. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Fuck yes, is what he wanted to say. But instead, Joel stood there dumbfounded as your cheeks grew redder with each second that passed. His stomach twisted as your hopeful expression fell and still, Joel said nothing. His mind screamed at him but he felt like he was locked in himself, unable to move, unable to talk, unable to think. Instead, he watched your crumpled face turn back towards home. 

Joel watched you leave in silence, unsure of what to do until a breeze laced with your soured scent slapped him in the face. With his instincts screaming at him to keep you safe and cared for, he surged forward. He dropped his tools and clumsily ran after you. The muffled cries that Joel heard made him wince. He shakily reached out to touch your back, but dropped his hand when you wheeled around to face him. 

Your face was red and splotchy, with tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you frowned at him. Joel froze again. An overwhelming feeling of guilt dizzied him. He tried to think of something to say as he stood before you but words failed him. 

“Are you ever going to touch me again? Or am I that horrible?,” you snapped. 

He stumbled back as if you had slapped him. His mind reeled at the questions. 

You sniffed, shaking your head again as you continued, “I know that I’m not what you might have wanted for yourself, I know that I’m… me. But you can’t just promise to mate me one day and then be done with me the next. Was it just the rut talking? Are you disgusted with me now? Because if so tell me or else it’s… It’s mean Joel! You’re being mean to me.” 

The words hit slammed into Joel’s chest like a ton of bricks. Pain nipped at his heart and he roughly yanked your face towards his. He searched your eyes as he tried to comprehend how you could possibly think he felt that way. 

“Baby, I love you because you’re you. You’re everything I could have hoped for. I just haven’t hoped for anything in a long time sweetheart, so I ain’t great at it. But all I do, day in and day out, is think about you and how good you look in my bed,” he urged, thumb coming down to trace over your lip as it trembled. 

“Then, why -,” you started to ask, only to be cut off by Joel’s rushed words. 

“Because! I - shit honey. I wanted to do this right, I wanted to treat you like a lady - my lady. I know we already… fucked, as you worded it but you deserve a gentleman. Someone to treat you with respect, someone to court you and all that before claimin ya,” he said, the words strained and clumsy. 

You stared at him silently as Joel’s eyes searched yours for any sign of understanding. Just as he opened his mouth to keep going, he was cut off by laughter. His brow furrowed in confusion as you chuckled in front of him. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me Joel,” you wheezed in between shaky breaths.  

Joel gawked at your reaction. 

“What is this? Is it 1847? Are you gonna ask my father for my hand? Gonna make him pay a dowry to you? Gonna mount me in front of the whole wedding party to make sure the bond is consummated?,” you teased. 

Joel scoffed and placed his hands on his hips. Cocking his hip out, his lips came together in a tight line to keep his annoyance at bay. He knew you couldn’t possibly understand what it was like before so he kept his snarky words to himself. When Joel looked up, the previous laughter turned into a sweet grin and he melted. Your arms wrapped around his neck, effectively shutting off his brain as his senses were overwhelmed by you. 

“Joel, I get what you’re trying to do but there’s no need. You’re good to me everyday. I’ve never had anyone love me like you do. But I just… I miss you and you’re right in front of me. Don’t you miss me daddy?,” you asked, the last part coy as your eyes twinkled with mischief. 

He choked on his spit and coughed as your fingers tugged at the curls on the back of his neck. Joel closed his eyes and groaned with every ounce of restraint leaving his body. He felt as one of your hands moved from his hair and dragged down the softness of his abdomen. The hand grasped his belt buckle, pulling his hips flush with your own. Joel’s eyes snapped open and he growled as your fingers inched along his waistline. 

“Fuck it,” Joel sighed as he threw you over his shoulder. 

 - You - 

You squealed as Joel’s rough hand swatted your ass. His strides were long and determined as he moved through the trees. He ignored the way you giggled and begged him to put you down. The daddy card was a cheap card to play but you knew it would work. 

“Just HAD to say that,” he griped, “Tryna do something nice for ya darling, tryna treat you right. But all you want is for me to treat you like my little slut, is that it? Need my cock in you that fucking bad huh?” 

His dirty words made you squirm and moan. The squirms earned you another quick slap to your ass as Joel reached the stairs to the cabin and took them two at a time. The door was practically ripped off of its hinges on the way in from the force of his pull. You gasped at his strength, half turned on by the spectacle and half pissed that he would risk tearing the door off the cabin in the middle of winter. 

“Joel!,” you meekly scolded through a thick cloud of arousal. 

He didn’t answer you. Instead, Joel simply smacked your ass once more before he slammed it closed. His determined strides reached the bedroom in seconds and he tossed you on to the bed. You bounced against the mattress from the force of his throw and scrambled to position yourself in a more alluring way. Anticipation boiled in your gut, and you watched as his eyes zeroed in on the wet spot on your panties.  

“Strip and lay down on the bed,” his gruff voice demanded. 

You paused for a moment. His quick shift from caring mate to domineering alpha both excited and dizzied you. All Joel had to do was give you a pointed look and you sprung into action, clumsily tearing off of your clothes under his stare. He smirked, slowly taking off his leather belt and unbuttoning his flannel as he watched your desperate movements. 

After kicking the panties off, you laid back against the cool sheets and tried not to lose your mind. Joel shrugged off his flannel, letting it fall to the floor before he unzipped his jeans. Your mouth watered at the sizeable bulge in his boxers that peaked out from his pants as he stalked around the bed. Joel reached down and softly moved errant strands of hair from your face. The smile that he gave you as you nuzzled his hand made your chest ache.  

“Sweet girl,” he praised quietly. 

Joel leaned down and kissed your forehead, letting his lips linger before he grabbed both of your hands. You whined as you realized the purpose of the belt. Need rushed through you, slick starting to stick to your inner thighs as Joel expertly wrapped the leather around your wrists. He stopped, kissing both of them softly before he secured them to the headboard. He quickly checked the hold, making sure they weren’t too tight before he loomed over you. 

“If they are too tight or if you want to stop, just let me know m’kay? Want to make you feel so good honey,” Joel drawled as he left a soft peck on the tip of your nose. 

Blushing at him, you nodded enthusiastically at his words. He smiled and moved to stand at the end of the bed as you squirmed. Joel reached down and pulled your legs apart, his ravenous gaze trained on the slick that dripped onto the sheets. Your face burned at his unflinching gaze. Suddenly overwhelmed by the attention, you tried to snap your legs closed but Joel stopped you. 

“Don’t you dare hide from me sweetheart. You’re fucking perfect,” he chastised as he eased your legs back apart. 

A strained moan came from Joel at the sight of you laid bare. One of his hands moved to palm his cock through his boxers. Joel pulled himself from the confines of his jeans and your cunt clenched around nothing. The sight of his cock made you yank at the restraints again as he slowly dragged his hand up and down his length. 

“What baby? See something you like?”

You nodded, giving Joel the best puppy dog eyes that you possibly could as he tugged at his length. He indulged the sight of your desperate state before he let his cock go, reaching forward to coast his hands over your thighs as they shook. Your hips rose slightly from the bed and he forced you back sharply.

“Use your words,” Joel snapped. 

The harshness of his words broke you. 

“You! Please, I can’t go any longer. I need it, need you too fuck me so bad” you cried. 

Joel dove in between your legs, kissing and biting his way up your right leg as you groaned. His teeth reddened the delicate skin on the inside of your thigh. The marks he left would undoubtedly turn to bruises later and you loved it. He stopped just before the crease in your thigh, allowing his breath fan out over your glistening lips as your clit twitched. Your breath caught in your throat and you silently willed him to lean forward. Joel licked his lips, staring at your seam hungrily for another moment before he turned to kiss up your other leg. 

“Ugh, please! Just fucking touch me, I can’t - shit, please Joel,” you whined, kicking your feet as Joel chuckled darkly against your skin. 

“I am touchin ya darling. Dunno whatcha mean,” he drawled, lips brushing against your skin with every syllable. 

Before you had a chance to answer with a clear mind, Joel returned to sucking and biting marks into the soft skin. The headboard banged against the wall as you thrashed against the restraints. You panted as Joel moved up your leg, trying desperately to find the words to beg for what you needed as he neared your clenching heat.  

“F-fuck me! Please fuck me! I need your cock in me - shit, daddy please!,” you suddenly wailed. 

Tears of desperation slid down your face as you cried and Joel quickly crawled up your body, kissing every inch of skin he came across before he met your lips in a soft peck. He pulled back and met your gaze, cooing as he brushed away tears of frustration. 

“Such a good girl for telling me what you need. So, so good for me. You look so beautiful like this babygirl,” he murmured. 

Cradling your face, Joel leaned down and kissed you softly. His tongue teased the inside of mouth and you sighed, letting him in as your body relaxed against the bed. You nibbled on the inside of his lip and he groaned. 

The kiss grew in intensity with both of you desperate for each other in seconds. Joel’s chest hair brushed up against your nipples and tiny jolts of pleasure ran down to your core. When he finally pulled away for air, you glared at him in annoyance. He laughed and kissed you once more on the cheek before he leaned into your ear. 

“Still doing ok sweetheart?,” Joel whispered. 

“Mmmhmmm, now can you fuck me already? M’getting bored up here,” you sang. 

Joel chuckled and bit at the gland in your neck with more pressure than he had ever done before. It was still not enough to claim you, but it had your back bowing and eyes rolling anyways at the intensity. He took your incapacity as an opening and moved down to your core. As you tried to come down from the hormonal response Joel had torn from you, he threw your legs over his strong shoulders and positioned himself between your legs. 

You looked down just in time to watch as Joel licked a long stripe up your seam, ending his stroke with a flick against the throbbing bud. He closed his eyes at the taste and a devilish smile graced his weathered features. In an instant, his mouth was back on you with soft kitten licks to your sensitive clit. As the need grew his soft licks turned to strong calculated strokes and you squeezed your eyes closed from the pleasure. 

The moans that came from Joel were downright pornographic and you fought against the heaviness in your eyelids. Forcing your eyes open, you looked down at the beast of a man that was making the most wanton noises you had ever heard. The sight of him alone almost made you cum on the spot. 

Joel ground his hips against the bed, rubbing his crotch into the sheets as he devoured you. With his brow pinched and eyes closed, he sucked your clit into his mouth as he held your twitching hips still so he could push you closer and closer to the edge. 

“J- oh fuck! You look so good like that - ungh - M’gonna, you’re gonna make me -,” you squeaked as you barreled towards your end. 

Just as your walls began to clench, signaling your incoming orgasm, Joel pulled back and returned his lips to your thigh. You gasped and bucked your hips into nothing as the pressure faded away. With a fresh wave of frustration at the ruined release, you thrashed harder against the restraint and whimpered. 

“But I-I don't understand. I was gonna -” 

Joel bit down hard on the supple skin of your thigh and a sharp cry bounced off of the walls. He laughed and you debated the benefits of cussing him out. Maybe that would get him riled up enough to fuck you. Before you could complain, Joel broke through the anger with the two thick fingers that thrusted into your core. You yelped at the sudden fullness. Slick dripped down Joel’s wrist and he grinned as he moved his face towards your center once more. 

With Joel sucking on your clit at a steady pace, your orgasm rose from the depths of your core embarrassingly fast. He hadn’t even started to move his thick fingers yet before your thighs started to shake again. As your walls twitched, a burst of panic rushed through you at the thought of him pulling away. Quickly, you clamped your thighs around him and pleaded. Joel chuckled against your seam, the vibrations of it almost sending you off the edge before he effortlessly moved away. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” you shouted as yet another orgasm was ruined by Joel. 

“Just Joel is fine darling,” he joked. 

Joel chuckled and sucked the slick off his fingers. His fingers retracted from his mouth and he reached forward to pop your jaw open. Joel pursed his lips, letting a wad of spit fall from his mouth onto your tongue as you whimpered. The lewdness of it made your eyes roll back and you swallowed without even thinking. 

“Jesus baby, don’t even have to tell you what to do. Like you were made for me or something. All fucking mine, aren’t ya?,” he growled. 

You nodded and breathily whined, “Yes, m’yours. Want to be yours so bad, please! Please make me yours, I need it so bad. Fuuck.” 

Joel moaned and moved to devour you once more. His fingers prodded at the outside of your twitching hole and you lifted your hips to encourage him. You felt him pause and looked down at him, only to be met with a serious look on his face. 

“You're already mine baby and I’m yours. Don’t you ever forget that,” Joel grunted as he slammed his fingers inside. 

Something between a growl and a sob rolled off of your tongue as his fingers ruthlessly thrusted into you. He sucked your swollen bundle of nerves between his lips and batted it with his tongue, the overstimulation making you shiver as he moaned into your folds. Joel’s fingers crooked up inside of you and rubbed at the devastating spot along your front wall. You convulsed against the sheets, whining and pleading as his free hand held you to the mattress. 

Joel looked devastatingly handsome between your legs. The possessive stare, coupled with the way he thrusted his hips against the sheets in time with his fingers made you feel like a goddess. His movements grew slightly jerky and you knew that he was close. The thought of Joel cumming from humping the bed at the taste of your cunt was all too much and you came hard. You screamed and pulled at the leather wrapped around your wrists so hard that it creaked under the pressure. 

Overwhelming pleasure erupted from your core and sprayed him with a strong gush of slick. Joel whined as your release covered his face and his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Nonsensical pleas and jumbled cries fell from your lips as you clenched around his thick fingers. You watched through hooded eyes as Joel’s hips stuttered against the bed before he thrusted down hard, crying out into your pulsing folds as he came into the sheets. 

The strength of your orgasm made your pelvic muscles burn as he pulled away. Joel kissed his way back up your body as you floated. He smiled and continued his attack on your face, distracting you as Joel’s free hand untied you from the headboard. With your hands free from the leather, you quickly dug your fingers into his curls and pulled him closer. 

The kiss you gave him was full of love, passion, longing, and desperation. It held a million emotions, a million promises, and a million requests. The kiss begged him to never go so long without touching you ever again. Joel responded fervently to your anguish and his lips promised that he would never leave you wanting again.

Joel broke from the kiss and the two of you panted into each other's mouths. You looked up at him and brushed the hair off of his forehead. He needed a haircut badly but you had begged him not to cut it yet, loving the way the length showcased his beautiful salt and pepper curls. You knew you had to do it soon as Joel threatened to shave it all off every day, but you wanted to enjoy the length as long as possible. 

He kissed the indent on your wrist and continued all the way down the length of your arm. Joel reached the crook of your neck and leaned forward. You waited for the final kiss but it never did. Instead, he blew a wet raspberry against your skin. You screeched and squirmed, shoving his head away he laughed. Joel removed himself from your neck and watched you giggle. 

“That was - shit Joel, that was so good. I missed that,” you sighed once the two of you calmed, which earned a hum of approval from him.  

Joel rolled the two of you over, moving so he was underneath while you straddled him. He moved his fingers into your hair and rubbed at your scalp. Boneless from his soothing circles, you draped yourself over him and placed your ear against his chest. His strong heartbeat lulled you into a meditative state. Grabbing his free one in yours, you squeezed his hand three times. 

“I love you too darling, more than you could possibly imagine,” he answered as he nosed at your hair. 

Completely drunk off of him, you smiled and rubbed your face into his chest. He hummed as you scented him. Your nose moved up from his chest to huff at the spot beneath his ear and Joel shivered. The spot called to you, his deep scent coating the back of your throat as you licked and nipped at it. It smelled so good but you couldn’t help but wonder how much better it would be if his scent was mixed with yours. 

The vibe of the room changed as you laved your tongue and dragged your teeth over the same spot with more intent. Joel’s hand tightened in your hair but it didn’t move to stop you. Instead he made a desperate noise and pushed your face deeper into his flushed skin. You took that as a green light and sunk your teeth into his skin. Joel howled as you made your claim on him. His body shook and his softening cock kicked up against your leg as blood filled your mouth. The taste of him alone made you groan as you licked over the wound, sealing the bleeding puncture marks and your hold over him as he twitched beneath you. 

“F-fuck baby,” Joel panted as blinked away tears. 

Before you could respond, Joel had flipped you over and shoved his face into your neck. He snuffed at the skin as he tried to locate the right spot. He found it almost immediately, almost like he had scoped it out beforehand. You didn’t blame him if he had, you had known the exact spot on Joel that you wanted to bite down on for weeks. 

“P-please omega, tell me please,” Joel begged as his mouth hovered over the left side of your neck. 

You could have cried at the sound of his voice. Your alpha, so strong yet so caring. A whine fell from your lips and you pushed his face forward. 

“Make me yours Joel.” 

Snarling, Joel clamped his teeth down hard. Euphoria burst from somewhere deep inside of you and you sobbed. The all encompassing feeling of finally belonging made tears fall from your eyes. You could hear Joel, as if from far away, as he coaxed you through the intense emotions. Love, devotion, and an overwhelming desire to never be away from him rushed through you. It was not unlike what you had already felt for him. Only this time, you knew for a fact that Joel felt the same way. You felt it through the bond. 

After the waves receded, your eyelids fluttered open and it felt like you were coming up for air after being underwater for your entire life. Joel’s smile matched yours and the both of you erupted into a fit of giddy laughs. 

Pure joy radiated off of you as you sniffed the air. Your scents changed with bond, mingling together to advertise to any interested parties that the both of you were taken. It made you excited, even though you knew there was nobody around to smell it. Joel noticed a change as well and lifted his nose into the air, his grin splitting his face in half as he smelled it too.

“Joel, I don’t even know what to say,” you croaked through the emotions that tightened your throat. 

He rubbed his nose against yours and whispered, “I know honey, I don’t either. I love you, that’s all I can think of to say. I fucking love you.” 

You sobbed and threw your arms around Joel’s neck, murmuring a soft I love you too into his mouth before you captured his lips in a searing kiss. Tears of happiness fell from your eyes as your lips moved against each other, tongues mingling and hands caressing every inch as the pair of you reeled from the enormity of what just happened. Your heart felt like it was going to explode with your love for Joel, the intensity of it almost too much as your mouths greedily took from one another. He broke away for air and you panted against the sheets, overwhelmed by the newness of it all. 

“I know baby, it’s too much isn’t it? But it’s just us finding the missing piece. Me and you, that’s what the feeling is. Until my last breath, I’m yours. Hell, I would’ve been yours anyways but this is so much better,” Joel murmured. 

An overwhelming need overcame you at his words and you flipped Joel over again. He landed on his back with a surprised oomph. He blinked and you had already straddled him. Joel wheezed as your hips grinded down on his quickly hardening length. He pinched his eyes closed and dropped his head back against the pillow while his hands skimmed along the fat of your hips. 

Moving from your hips, Joel reached down to grasp handfuls of your ass and used his grip to slide you back and forth against him harder. Whining, you draped yourself over him again and writhed against him.  

You grew desperate for him and reached down to grab him. Holding him steady, you slowly sunk down on him. A sigh fell from your lips once you were fully seated, with every aspect of the both of you now melded together. It all felt so right. 

Joel’s hips twitched under you and he grabbed your hips once more. He worked you on his cock, the fat tip of it brushing up against that spot that had slick gathering in his lap. You whined at the size of him, the stretch bordering on painful as he bullied his way in. His place was slow and hard, making the burn quickly give way to burning need as Joel somehow brushed against every sweet spot inside of you. 

You needed more. 

The air in the room was thick and your bodies were sticky with sweat as you pushed back up again. Planting your hands on his belly, Joel watched through glazed eyes as you swirled your hips in mind numbing circular motions. He cussed with his expression pained as he watched your glistening body undulate over him. You leaned forward and kissed him once more, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue as the desperation grew. 

The way his wiry curls scrubbed against your clit made pleasure shoot up from the base of your spine. Joel noticed as your legs trembled with your incoming release, making your thrusts lose their rhythm. As your legs failed, he pulled his lips from yours and sat himself up against the headboard. The same hard and slow grind as before continued with Joel’s capable hands setting the pace as you whimpered and shook. 

“Alpha,” you keened as you felt the incoming pleasure. 

Joel’s eyes met yours as he ground your cock into you, teasing your entrance with his knot to make you tremble. Needing him to claim you in every way, you whimpered his name and pushed your hips down. 

“Yeah pretty girl? You want my knot omega? It's yours now, all you gotta do is tell me,” he growled with his length tunneling deeper inside of you, carving a space for himself as he thrusted up from underneath. 

You panted and cried out, “I want it so bad. You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this. Everytime I - ha, fuck me - Everday in the shower, I’d use the showerhead so I could, oh shit! Alpha, please.”

He groaned and slapped the fat of your ass before he gritted out, “You touchin yourself to me in the shower baby? Fuck me, you know how many times I fucked my fist in there thinking about you? Nearly every day darling. I can’t believe I wasted it when I could’ve been cumming into this sweet pussy.”

Pussying clenching at his admission, you cried out and clawed at his shoulders. Joel’s thrusts became more erratic and he reached one hand down to your clit. As his calloused thumb strummed at your pulsing bud, the shaking in your thighs doubled as your walls began to milk him. Groaning, Joel brutally slammed you down onto his knot, locking himself inside of you as you both exploded. 

Spurts of cum painted your insides as your cunt sucked him dry. Everytime you thought he was done cumming, another wave would splash against your walls as they twitched around him. 

“F-fuck, gonna keep filling you up until it takes baby. Need it,” he growled. 

You weren’t sure if he even knew what he had said but it didn’t matter. The thought of it threw the both of you into another round of blinding pleasure and you cried out as his seed continuously splashed against your cervix. Shuddering and breathless, you slumped against Joel’s body as the last shocks of pleasure ebbed away. His hands rubbed at every inch of available skin as he soothed the fresh mark on your neck with soft kisses. 

“We should have done that two weeks ago,” you sighed as you purred from his attention to your neck. 

He snorted before he mumbled, “Pardon me ma’am, didn’t mean to vex ya with my attempts at being decent. Just how I was raised, I suppose.” 

You laughed at that and tilted your face to plant a quick peck into his hair. 

“Well old man, you made me cum two weeks ago by slapping me in the pussy. So, I really don’t know whose decency you’re talking about. Plus, did you have a good time not touching me? Because I hated it. Pretty sure I’ll die if you take your huge dick away from me again,” you said. 

Joel scoffed and shook his head at your words.    

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as ridiculous as you baby. You’d give Tommy a run for his money,” he chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes before you said, “You’ve never met someone like me, period Joel. That’s why it’s my mark on your neck and nobody else’s. Plus, um… me crass? Who was the one that was doing the pussy slapping? Who literally just tied me up? Pot and kettle Joelie.” 

“Uck, not Joelie, anything but that. Two people have called me that, my meemaw and my dumb brother when he was trying to piss me off. Don’t you even start with that,” Joel grumbled. 

You hummed and brushed your thumbs along his cheeks. 

“But doesn’t it sound so much better coming from me Joooellie - ah!”

He pushed you deeper on to his knot, eliciting a guttural cry from you as a weak orgasm pulsed from your core. The force of it made Joel hiss but it worked, effectively shutting you up and zapping the remaining energy from your body you melted him to him. After a brief silence, Joel spoke again. 

“The mark on my neck, it couldn’t be anybody else’s. It could only ever be you,” Joel said truthfully. 

Overcome with love and exhaustion, you kissed his neck and whispered, “Back atcha cowboy.” 

He chuckled and you nuzzled at his fresh mark. A peaceful silence fell over the room as you wrapped yourselves around each other. Joel’s hands rubbed soft circles into your skin, drawing sighs from your lips until you drifted off into a dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks. 

 - Joel - 

One day. 

One day since he had purpose again. All of the voices in Joel’s head that screamed at him every waking moment were silenced when you had claimed him. With sharp teeth burrowed into his neck, all he could only think about was you. After a lifetime of running from his past and himself, it felt like he was finally home. Joel ran his thick fingers over the mark, smiling at the memory. 

With the bond solidified, exhaustion had pulled you into an impromptu nap against him. Joel watched you sleep, tracing the outline of your face over and over again with his gaze but couldn’t bring himself to join you in rest. The thrill of being somebody’s mate had slowly morphed into shock. The surrealness of it all dizzied him. 

Joel survived being a single dad, he survived the outbreak and his daughter dying in his arms, he even survived the death of his adoptive daughter. And he had done it all on his own. For 56 years the thought of drawing someone else into his shit was unthinkable but now he had you, and you would be with him until the day he died. The thought both excited and terrified him. 

He didn’t know how he was going to do this. How would he take care of you? How could Joel look you in the eyes and tell you the truth about him? Would you leave him if you knew? Surely not, the bite mark dug into your neck assured him of that. But would you resent him for claiming you after the truth came out? The thought of your resentment made his stomach roil. 

His racing thoughts were interrupted as you woke from the impromptu nap. The smile you gave him cracked the shell around his broken soul and allowed warmth to shine through the cracks. Butterflies erupted in Joel’s stomach and made his heart thump harder against the walls of his chest. Without a second thought, he leaned forward and kissed both of your cheeks. You yawned, mumbling something about food as you roused from slumber. Joel leaned forward and brushed his lips against yours, indulging your sleepy kisses for a moment before he jumped into action. 

As Joel rose from bed, a strained groan forced its way out from behind his clenched teeth. A deep ache bloomed in his back and hips, making him lock his knees to keep himself from falling forward. He knew when he did it that he probably shouldn’t have picked you up at his age. You were a fully grown woman and he was an old man with a lifetime’s worth of sore muscles and creaky bones but he couldn’t help it. The pain that pricked at his nerves was worth it to see how your face scrunched up everytime he slammed you down onto his cock. 

He tried to play it off after the groan crawled its way out of his mouth but you were his mate. That meant that you felt his pain like your own and after a round of pointless bickering, he somehow ended up taking a bath for the first time in nearly fifty years. Hesitancy clung to Joel at first but the sight of your naked body slipping in after him made any trepidation slip away in an instant. The water was warmer than he was used to but the heat pulled all of the tension from his muscles and made him groan into your hair. 

Joel tried to be romantic and wash your hair but he almost immediately got his thick fingers stuck in the tangled strands. You laughed it off, gracious with his rusty affections even though he practically waterboarded you later on. He meant to simply wash the soap from your scalp but instead he accidentally poured the hot water directly over your face. He vehemently apologized as you sputtered and tried to explain that he was pretty sure the reason Sarah learned how to do her own hair so quickly was that she was tired of her dad getting styling cream in her eyes. 

Afterwards, you washed him and Joel tried to keep note of your technique in his own hair for future reference. He suppressed a moan as he felt fingers rubbing the product into his scalp with soothing circles. The ministrations released the tension from his muscles and made him blink sleepily at you. You smiled and pecked Joel’s lips before tilting his head back, carefully rinsing his curls as he sighed. 

Once the bath was over, the two of you had spent the rest of the day in each other's presence. He cooked and you watched from your spot on the counter, reaching out every so often to pull him into a sweet kiss. It was a miracle that the food didn’t burn. After lunch you had lured him back to bed for a few more hours, only letting him go when you collapsed from the devastating sixth orgasm he tore from you. Joel tried not to look too smug when he had to bring supper to you in bed that night as your legs shook and twitched.  

After a peaceful sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, Joel woke to the sound of you making breakfast for him. He smiled and rubbed his eyes, letting his fingers trail across his newly marked neck before he leapt from the bed. There was a pep in his step as he dressed and he suppressed a smile at the giddiness growing in his chest. The simple thought of you making food in the kitchen made his cheeks hurt. It was madness.

He paused as he left the bedroom. His eyes fell to the rose on your side of the bed. Your side of the bed. Joel’s grin widened at the thought of it, of you having a space in his life forever now. The thought would have made him run for the hills a couple of weeks ago but now, his greatest fear was losing you. 

Looking around, he saw traces of you everywhere. Dog eared books on the bedside table, dirty clothes mixed with his in the hamper, hair ties strewn across every open surface, a drawing of a wonky cat that you had drawn tacked to the wall on his side of the bed, even the rainbow quilt that adorned the bed had you written all over it. Joel never cared about which blankets he used but you insisted on using that one because of the bright colors. He didn’t mind the brightly colored blankets if it made you happy. 

As Joel stepped into the hallway it was filled with the smell of something delicious. His mouth watered from the sweetness drifting in the cold air. Stomach grumbling, he walked into the kitchen and was slapped in the face with what he saw. He froze in the doorway. Flour covered nearly every inch of the counter and Joel trembled at the sight. Sweat pricked at his hairline and his heart lurched in his chest. 

Suddenly it was 2003, his thirty second birthday, and Sarah wanted to make him pancakes. They were one of her favorite foods but that day he forgot and had left for work without a second thought. What had they eaten instead? Joel couldn’t remember. All he remembered was that the last two things that Sarah wanted in this world were pancakes and birthday cake, and she never got either. 

“Joel! Oh my god, please breathe. Look at me, you have to breathe”

The words rattled around in his mind as he fought against the fog. Your panicked face came into his field of vision, face framed with black dots as your shaky hands held his cheeks. Joel’s chest burned and he wondered momentarily if he was having a heart attack before he realized he wasn’t breathing. He gasped, sucking in air as reality bled back into his consciousness. 

“That’s it, breathe for me. There you go,” you soothed. 

Joel lifted himself to his knees, ignoring your protests and attempts to shove him back down. He needed to get out of this room. The smell of the sweet batter made his mouth fill with water and he retched. You swore and stepped back at the sound of his gags. Joel staggered out of the room and you quietly followed. 

Sarah’s laugh echoed in his haunted mind, followed by the sound of her choking on her final breaths. He looked away when she died, crying out for his brother only to be greeted with her still face when he looked back down. Why did he do that? Tommy couldn’t do anything. And Ellie. Was she scared after the tunnel? Did she look for him after she woke up? Did she wish Joel was there before they put her under for the surgery? 

Was everyone he loved doomed to die afraid? 

Was Joel doomed to watch? 

“Joel, please. You’re scaring me. What’s going on? Are you - Is it your heart?” 

Your nervous tone cut through his panicked state and Joel whirled around to face you. He felt like some sort of raging beast as adrenaline raced through his veins. He tried to conjure up an explanation but couldn’t, so he just turned away. Joel sighed as he heard your tentative steps towards him. You walked around his body and placed your hands on his aching chest. 

“I don’t want to talk about it darling, I got chores to be getting to anyways. Just eat and I’ll see you later on, okay?,” Joel tried. 

You blinked and prepared yourself to press him again. He wished you wouldn’t. 

“I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Joel pushed away from you, stumbling back as anger boiled up from deep within him. He didn’t need your help, he didn’t need anybody’s help. There was no fixing this. It was something that would remain broken until the end of time, like him. 

“I don’t need your help. M’not your little project sweetheart,” he seethed. 

The moment the words were out of his mouth he regretted them but there would be no taking them back now. Not when your face morphed into a scowl and your arms crossed over your midsection in defense. Joel schooled his face and tried not to wince at the fury that buzzed through the bond you shared. 

“I never fucking called you my project. I don’t think it’s unreasonable to wonder why my mate collapsed in the kitchen and then literally ran away from me when I tried to comfort him. But what do I know?” you spat. 

Joel stiffened at your tone and matched your anger as he said, “Maybe it’s none of your fucking business. Ever thought of that?” 

A dark laugh peeled out of your mouth and he felt the room shift. He knew that he had chartered into dangerous territory but he couldn’t help it. Joel clenched his jaw and he tensed for an attack that was never going to come from you. His body couldn’t tell the difference between discomfort and danger anymore, gearing up to protect him despite the fact that he knew you would never hurt him. 

“None of my business Joel? None of my fucking business?! You, Joel Miller, are literally my only fucking business. You’re my mate and I literally know fucking nothing about you. And you know what? That’s my fault, I should have pushed you but I didn’t,” you snarled as you walked back towards the kitchen. 

A lump formed in his throat and Joel blinked away tears. He was failing you and he didn’t know how to stop it, but he knew he had to try. 

“You don’t want to know me baby. I’m a bad man. I’ve tortured and killed so many people. Hundreds probably, and I don’t even care that some didn’t deserve it. That’s how shitty I am. Murdering folk ain’t even what keeps me up at night,” Joel choked out. 

You stopped in the doorway and turned back. Joel watched your socked feet take tentative steps towards him and winced when they stopped inches away from him. 

“Tell me.”

How could he? How could he put his loss into words? How could anyone? 

“Tell me,” you repeated. 

The conviction in your voice snapped Joel to attention and he grabbed your hand. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it but he led you down the hall towards the one place he had banished you from. Pausing for a moment, Joel sighed and pushed the creaky door open. 

The room itself was largely the same, with flowers still painted on the walls and comic books still stuffed in the bookshelf, but it was torn to pieces.You stepped forward into the wreckage and gingerly surveyed it. The railings on the bunk bed had been torn off. He didn’t even remember doing that. A lamp was shattered in the corner of the room and the nightstand had been kicked over. Joel swallowed hard as you picked up the broken frame, studying the picture before you looked up at him. 

“Sarah wasn’t the only daughter you lost,” you stated. 

Joel nodded in response and braced for the big questions. How did Sarah die? How did Ellie die? How did he fail? How would he fail you?

“What was her name?” 

He blinked. 

“Ellie,” he whispered before he cleared his throat and tried again, “Her name was Ellie. She… I met her when she was fourteen. Pretty well grown but she was… If they hadn't killed her I would’ve taken care of her. She was my kid even though - ” 

You cut through his rushed words, “Ellie was your daughter. Maybe not through blood, but she was your pup.” 

He nodded again and looked down at his feet. Hot tears blurred his vision and he failed to force them down. Joel’s chest broke open. Ellie was his pup, Sarah was his pup, and they were both gone. The ground shifted beneath him and he lurched forward onto his knees. He didn’t even feel the hard wood, but he felt your arms around him after the fall. 

“They died and I couldn’t fucking do anything. The outbreak happened and that goddamn soldier shot Sarah. He shot my baby girl and she died, and I didn’t do anything besides yell for Tommy,” Joel sobbed into your chest. 

A soft comforting noise came from you and your fingers rubbed circles into his scalp. He cried hard, choking on memories as they gathered behind his eyelids. You remained silent, allowing him to cry as your hands soothed him. 

“Ellie was just cargo. That’s all she was supposed to be and then she wasn’t anymore. The fireflies wanted to use her for some bogus cure but I c-couldn’t - fuck -  I tried to get to her but her head was just split open on the fucking table and I-I,” he broke with a pained whine. 

Years of shame rolled off Joel and landed on your lap. And you took it without any complaint or accusation. His admission just made you hug him tighter to your chest as he cried. A breakdown of this magnitude would have embarrassed him normally but he didn’t care. Joel needed you like the air he breathed. He needed you and if he had to admit his deepest darkest secrets to keep you, then that was what he would do. 

You let him cry until the tears ran dry and his pained cries turned into soft whimpers. The hands in his hair tugged his head back. Joel blushed as you examined his damp face. He knew that he was probably a mess but you still looked at him like he had hung the moon. 

“They knew you loved them. That’s what matters Joel. How they died was… It was awful and I can’t even imagine how you feel, but their death isn’t what’s important. Their memory is what matters, the love is what matters,” you said softly. 

“But I was supposed to protect them and I failed. I’m a failure. And that’s why I… I just don’t want to fail you darling.” 

You scoffed and pinched his sides, forcing a sharp grunt out of his mouth. He balked at your harsh treatment as he rubbed at his reddened skin. 

“Joel Miller, you are a lot of things but don’t you dare call yourself a failure. A grump? Sure. Secretive? Undoubtedly. A miser when it comes to your friggin peanuts? One hundred per-”

He cut you off before the list could go on. 

“And I thought I was bad at comforting people. Christ darling just pile it on, why don’t ya?” he snickered. 

The tension in the room fizzled out as the two of you laughed. The pain that he felt moments before was still there but as Joel looked up at your smiling face, it felt a lot more manageable. 

“What I’m trying to say is that you act like you’re some sort of monster but it isn’t true. Everything you do is with love. Joel, love literally exudes from your very being.You’re so many things, but a failure just isn’t one of them,” you explained. 

Joel breathed in, allowing the words to settle in his soul as you pushed his hair back from his wrinkled forehead. There was a part of him that wanted to push back. A dark voice lurked in the corners of his brain and begged him to deny your kindness, but he stopped himself. Swallowing hard, he nodded and hugged you tightly. You grunted at the force of it but wrapped your arms around him anyways. 

“Sarah wanted pancakes the last day she was alive. It was my birthday and she wanted to make them. They were more for her than anything else, she loved anything sweet. I guess I haven’t really seen anyone make them since her. It just surprised me baby, that’s all,” he mumbled. 

“No oatmeal and no pancakes, aye aye captain,” you affirmed and leaned back to give him a mock salute. 

A watery laugh bubbled up from Joel’s chest and he kissed you. Tears from his face dampened your cheeks but you didn’t seem to care. Instead, he felt you pour all of your affection into his lips. His heart throbbed and he whined. The kiss was growing in intensity but Joel cut it short when his nose picked up on something. 

“Is that?”

“SHIT!,” you yelled before scrambling into the hallway. 

Joel ran after you, eyes widening at the smoke that clouded the air. As he rounded the corner, he was met with the sight of you standing still in front of the flames that roared on the stove. He cussed, nervous system spiking his adrenaline once more as he snatched the water from the fridge and tossed it on the flame. 

A sharp hiss resounded through the room and steam exploded off of the blackened circles in the pan. He reached around the billowing puffs of heat and quickly turned off the burner. 

“You didn’t turn off the burner?” he asked dumbly. 

You scoffed, “Well no, I thought you were having a heart attack Joel.” 

Annoyance surged within him. Joel’s hands came up to his hips and he popped his left knee out. 

“M’not that old,” he grumbled. 

You threw your hands in the air at his petty bickering but he knew you loved it. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Joel. You are so right. I should totally assume that when my 56 year old mate clutches at his chest and then falls over, that actually means he’s completely fine. My mistake!” you sassed him. 

Joel bit back a laugh. If there was one thing that the two of you would do, it was bicker and he loved it too. The tenseness vanished and now you were just fucking with eachother. 

“Plus, at least I wasn’t the one who just used all the water in the fridge to put out a itsy bitsy stove fire,” you added. 

“Oh, I’m sorry darling. You are so right. I should totally assume that when you start a fire in the kitchen, it’s actually because you wanted to burn our home to the ground. My mistake!,” he retorted, throwing the words right back in your face. 

A beat passed before you both erupted into laughter again. The tenseness of the situation deflated even greater as Joel watched you toss the charcoal colored dough into the trash. With the offending pancake gone, he sighed in relief. 

After the pancake incident, Joel fired you from breakfast duty and opted for the easier option of ramen noodles. The prep was too minimal for your assistance so he shooed you away to the living room. When they were done, he brought the bowls of noodles to the couch and pulled your legs onto his lap. A smile tugged at his lips while he ate. The heaviness in Joel’s chest was gone and he was sure that he would’ve floated away if it wasn’t for the weight across his lap. 

When the bowls were empty, you took the dishes back to the kitchen and commanded Joel to go refill the water from the fridge. He jokingly bowed to your demand, which you rolled your eyes at as you walked away. Joel smirked and reached out to slap your ass hard. 

“Joel!” you scolded. 

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and you laughed. The sound of your laughter was something that Joel knew he would savor until he died. 

“Water cowboy, then we’ll talk.” 

Joel flashed you a devilish grin as he quickly shoved his feet into his boots. Grabbing the first jacket he could find, he zipped up and turned to sprint towards his task. As he gripped the door handle, your voice calling out from the kitchen stopped him in his tracks. 

“Love you!” 

His heart stuttered at that. It didn’t matter how many times you said it, everytime made his mind fuzzy. 

“Love you too honey,” Joel called back as he strolled into the frosty morning. 

The walk was brisk but the sun shone down through the trees and warmed his cheeks. He barely took notice of whether the traps he passed needed to be reset or not. All of Joel’s thoughts were centered around you back in the cabin. Back home. Being away from you for even a minute tore him in half.  

The river roared with swelling waters that licked at the banks as Joel stooped down to fill the bucket. The current was strong this winter, with thick chunks of ice that raced along the surface and slammed into each other. Summer came to mind. A grin came to his face as he thought about how nice it was to cool off in the calmer waters. He was excited to share the perfect swimming hole that existed just a short walk away. Joel shook his head and tried to focus on pulling the bucket up on the bank. He knew he would ditch his task if he thought about swimming alongside you for too long. 

His ears pricked at a rustling noise behind him. Joel heard the distinct sound of footsteps coming out from the treeline behind him and smiled. Relief filled him. It was good to know that he wasn’t insane for missing you from the moment he stepped outside.  

“Listen, I missed you too darling. But Christ, s’cold out here. You’re gonna freeze,” he teased. 

You didn’t answer and Joel turned his head, only to be met with the but of a rifle as it slammed into his face.

[ikkosu]

Throwing this at you ikko, because I am obsessed with Pinks fairy’s in Archie’s Knightformers au, butttt, Pharma the freaky little man finding a fairy that can’t run or fly because their wings broken<3 and he uses old test subjects wings to fix theirs despite their disgust to it, partnered with him keeping them as his little pet/experiment.

(Also my friend sent me more pics to use as reaction <3 so I am blessing you with a cat)

compookie!!

rubs hand evilly ohohoh I've been plagued with knightformer pharma and his evil little smile. He's definitely getting his own little fae too.

Quick incomprehensive ramble about my husband, for a moment (sorry prowl) Knightformers / Faeformers are by :

@archie-sunshine and @pinkanonwrites (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

(oofm gets a little bit violent at the end)

I'd say before Pharma went bonkers, his methods are a little less unethical. Like Prowl, he won't care much for these playful cretins. They're adorable, yes. Very soft, too. He can see why First Aid and Ambulon are always so keen on squishing their plush cheeks.

Unfortunately, as much as he tries to find them tolerable, one fae in particular switched his colorcoded books to different shelves can you believe that?

How utterly vulgar. He ought to put them in a Jar and send them to Nyon where Rodimus or whatever lives. That'll do the fine job of shutting them up.

Even more strange, this fae prefers to bother him, of all people. Always pottering along with their tiny feet. The wisp flutter of their wigs as they hover close, tugging on his hat, and cloak. Hiding behind pillars, peeking out then giggling when he notices them.

He'd imagine they go for humans like First Aid or Ambulon, since they are far more gentle with their words than he is to them

The annoyance to that particular fae, though, doesn't last too long.

It was a busy day at the hospital. Darkness veiled the night. He's working the night shift again and everyone had gone to their quarters. The halls are empty. It feels a little isolating but he'll have to make do.

After a small dreadful nap on his desk that left his throat sore and back.pained — Pharma wakes up with something warm over his back. He sits up straight and the something his back billows and pool to the ground. A — he pinches the material between his fingers, eyebrows cocked — blanket?

And the sprinkled dust of glitter on one end drew a smile to that face.

"Good, little cretin."

Pharma and fae aren't particularly close after, but he does acknowledge the fae and does, a little bit, grow more tolerant of them. In the gardens, where he'd go out for fresh air and a semblance for peace, fae would perch on his shoulder as he reads his book. Their tiny legs would swing aimlessly as their eyes peering over to read.

He's not sure the little thing understands but when he'd flip a page a little too early, he's halted by their itty hands and a trill. Pharma waits little, couldn't resist raising a finger and scratching the back of their ears, before turning the page after.

He couldnt retract his finger since fae is already nuzzling against it. So he keeps it there for as long as he remembers ( he couldn't perform surgery and had First Aid take over because of how sore his hand was).

Post-delphi Pharma, though. Yikes, okay. Everything is in shambles. Tarn comes and goes, and as he goes, chaos runs rampant and dances along every crook and cranny of Delphi like a forest fire.

Pharma isn't spared, either.

Fae, and the many others, find themselves scuttling away to a nearby forest. Their friend, a fae with green streaks to their wings, breedles to them about a new hideout in the caves.

Fae nods and follows along, before the group breaks off unceremoniously when a panther had caught on to their little group.

Fae persists to a different path. In doing so, unluckily encounters a bandit when they were trying to flee. It's not your usual, pillaging, loot lover bandit — these were the ones who snatch faeries and strip them of their magic dust.

A lot of fae's have been caught recently and the growing numbers are not one to mess with.

And, a quick scuffle between the two, led to fae hitting the floor hard. They squeak weakly, pawing the ground, trying and failing to flutter their wings. But it hurts. Thair back hurts. Their body hurts

Distraught, the shadow closes in on them, eyes of the bandit white half-moons of mirth as hands almost curl around fae's body—

And a sickening splat resounds after.

Fae opens their eyes and sees a different man looming. It's Pharma, eyes half lidded as he stares over the crook of his nose, down at the body in front of him — not the fae.

One side of his cheek had blood smeared across and over his hand, curls a crimson mottled axe. Fae doesn't want to see what's left of the body and looks away with a small shuddered trill, arms covering their faces.

This isn't the Pharma they knew..

Crass as he were — Pharma would never be so grotesquely vulgar as this.

The medic regards the little cretin for a moment, likely assessing the damage of their wings. He notices there's a stutter in the movements. Muscles, strained. Arms, limp.

Then, with another look to the body, silently, pharma grabs the fae with his free hand — blatantly ignoring their startled trills and their little kicks — and starts heading back to Delphi.

Everything was quiet. The hallways were quiet. The evening air was quiet. Even the gardens they so often mingle about — were dreadfully stale.

Pharma lays the fae down on the table, who scuttles to the edge in a fit of panic.

"I did tell the man to go after the least energetic ones." He murmered and pinches their ankle to stop their movements

Fae kicks at his fingers. He doesn't budge. Instead, he brings out wires from a drawer and starts coiling them into rings.

"Seems like he doesn't very much like listening to my orders." The wires were cold to their wrists then more cooler around ankles. "He's got what's coming, poor fellow. But that's done, now. I don't have to pay him, anymore. He's done enough—"

Fae let's out a squeal and thrashes around.

"Oh, don't give me that look, cretin. You'd think I'd spare your kind after the potential results you could give me?" He says lowly and clamps his entire hand on their body.

The table rattles..Fae shudders and weakly trills, pawing away at his palm. Tears sting their cheeks.

"But no worries." He leans closer. A small smile. "I'm fond of you, I'll give you that. That's only if the gift I'm planning to give you is of your taste. Look around, cretin. A new wing i've culled — just for you. You can choose as many as you like."

And fae swivels around, heart lurching in their chest. They've realized there were jars all around, perched in the shelves and were filled with faes...

Limp shadows. No longer bright. No longer breathing.

A particular jar caught their eye. They were wings. The miniscule body is a mere silhouette under the dim light. And, streaks of green dances across the glint of the wings.

[backtothefanfiction]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell | TF!Boys Mafia AU ~ Part TWO

Summary: Phoenix has one last night of freedom before she is forced to go to work for her dad. What better way to spend it than a night on the town? Maybe taking home one of the guys she knows will only wind up Pope... or hopefully get her closer to bedding the man himself?

Warnings: 18+ Only, (Mature Content), Dark Mafia Romance Au, broken family, unhinged female rage, AFAB, OFC, Mixed POV, objectification of the female body, drug and alcohol used, smut, bondage, dom!reader, oral (m!recieving)

Word Count: 5.2k+

A/N: I am sorry this took so long to get done and posted. I also know I could have gone further into things at the end of this chapter but it felt like it ended there for me and it'll give us a place to start in chapter three. Once again we are gonna jump around to a few different character's perspectives. As always if you enjoy please give feedback and reblog, it means a lot. Also I'm posting this without doing a final proofread so may still contain some errors, but hopefully not. Enjoy!

TWO

PHOENIX

I haven’t been back in this room for years. Although I was bounced around boarding schools since I was 12, I still came home for the holidays and most weekends- my bedroom becoming a shrine to all the things I loved as a teenage girl. Hunky male actors (who we’re definitely way too old for me) cover my walls. All the half page and sometimes double spread posters from the centerfolds of my favorite magazines. Whatever space lay between was covered in doodles- made by sharpies- in an ever decreasing interest in becoming an artist.

My en-suite cupboards are filled with a plethora of half used bottles of crazy color, that are sat tempting me in my post break up adrenaline. They are probably long past their best before date and not that effective. At least that’s what I tell myself as I’m getting out the old tupperware pots still waiting under the desk and begin dumping out colors. I’ve only really got enough pink and blue to do half my head, so decide to split my hair in half straight down the middle and do a half and half ombré with the two colors a la Harley Quinn. But when my eyes fall on the toxic neon yellow shade, I know I have to find a way to work it in too. So instead of taking the pink and blue right down to the very ends of my hair, I decide to put the yellow on there instead. 

I’m sat on top of my old hand-me-down four poster bed, reading one of the old teen magazines (that have been kept in a box under my bed all these years) whilst my hair develops, when my Dad finally comes up to find me.

“What in hell’s name have you done to your head?” He says, stopping short in the doorway when he takes in the sight of me.

“What can I say? I was bored.” I say bluntly, barely looking up from between the glossy pages of the magazine.

“Give me that.” He says, stepping forward and snatching it out of my hands.

“Hey- I was reading that!” I protest, but he cuts me off.

“You’re 26 Phoenix, it’s time you start acting like it.”

I genuinely look at him shocked. After all these years he’s finally decided to grow a backbone and discipline me. “Woooow.” I begin to sass him when I spot  Ez over my Father’s shoulder, encouraging me to stop.

“Enjoy your last night of freedom Phoenix, because come tomorrow night you’re going to work with Archie.” my old man continues.

My attention snaps back to him so fast I almost give myself whiplash. “What!”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re back living under my roof, you pay your way like everyone else in this house.”

“What, even Marina?” I snark, knowing she’s never done a single day’s work in years.

“Yes, actually.” my Dad retorts, “She helps me with the books.”

“Yeah, I bet she does.” I roll my eyes.

“Look, you don’t like it- maybe you shouldn’t have set fire to your life all over again. Jesus!” He turns on his heels, growing exasperated with me. “Your shift starts at 7 tomorrow. You can get a ride with Archie.” my Dad barks before he storms out the room without shutting the door behind him.

“I told you, you’ve really done it this time.” Ez chastises me from the open doorway.

“Oh shut up.” I say, getting up from the bed and slamming the door in his face.

I want to scream the word ‘FUCK’ for the whole house to hear, but I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. Only I would get cheated on and then punished for it. 

My fingers instead rub at my eyes. ‘Fuck this shit,’ I think to myself, storming over to my closet. I fling the doors open and survey what I have to work with. Most of it is from when I was 17 and near anorexic. It takes a few passes back and forth between items before I decide on a couple of items and choose to get a little crafty with them.

An hour later I’ve washed out my hair and styled it, throwing on a full face of makeup- complete with glitter and a dark lip- I now don an outfit made up of two spliced shirts, the front an old silver sequin shirt I’ve cut into a square and then fixed to the straps of a black spaghetti strap top. It hangs low enough to just about cover my pleather hotpants covered ass. My bra and tits are almost completely on display, but it’s just the bait I need to not have to buy a single drink tonight. Given that my Dad runs Medusa’s as well, I won’t even have to pay to get in.

I shove on a pair of bejeweled silver ankle boots to match the makeshift dress I’ve scraped together and throw on my old faithful leather jacket- once an oversized fit, that now fits perfectly- and I’m ready to go.

“Hey, give me a lift down to the club.” I say, knocking on Deano’s door frame two rooms down.

He barely looks away from his TV where he’s in the middle of a racing game. His fingers, glued to the controller in his hand, twiddle the joists and the tires from the car on the screen, screech through the sound system he has hooked up. “What’s in it for me?” 

“I’ll finally introduce you to Lucy.”

“How do you know she’ll be there?”

“It’s a Friday night. She’ll be there.”

“Phe, you haven’t been down to Medusa’s for years,” there’s a beep from the TV as he pauses the game to finally look at me, “how are you so sure- Dad is gonna kill you before he lets you go out dressed like that.” he says.

“Well I wasn’t planning on giving him a fashion show before we left.” I sigh, crossing my arms and legs, leaning my body against the door frame. “Besides, he’s the one who said this was my last night of freedom and I don’t plan on spending it sitting on my bed in my joggers 

watching reruns of the old house wives.”

“Fine.” he sighs, rubbing at his face, “But you’re messaging Lucy to make sure she’s gonna be there.” He points at me.

“Doing it now.” I say, reaching into my jacket pocket for my phone and typing out a hasty message to my old partner in crime. “Get dressed.” I bark at him.

“So bossy.” 

“Yep. And don’t you forget it.”

FRANKIE

Although most of the people in the clubbing business are in their 40s and 50s, the actual clubbing lifestyle is not suited for anyone over 35. Unless you are a woman in your 40s that is. (You’ll be surprised at the amount of middle aged Mom’s who band together and make a big deal about going out at least once a month, so that they can hold on to some semblance of themselves and their youth- especially if they have kids.)

No. If I had it my way, I would definitely not be spending my Friday night at a club full of sweaty twenty something year olds, all scantily clad or greasy and sleazy, trying to make a pass at anything else that walks or even just looks too long in their direction.  I can’t say the same about Benny though- but he is and always has been the baby of our little quartet. The man still hasn’t yet hit 40, so this ideally is still his game; and out of all of the clubs we’ve bought over the last few years, Medusa’s is without a doubt his favorite.  Marble stone statues dotted about the place, a large spray painted mural of the lady herself, complete with 3D gold fiberglass snakes that protrude from her head and red lights in her eyes. 

It’s also where most of the rich kids in town come to spend their money, so it always turns a pretty profit; not just from the booze, but also the amount of drugs that are bought and exchanged in the toilets. All of it our gear of course. 

Even when we aren’t dropping by for an inspection, Ben will still opt to spend most of his nights here sampling the merchandise, before taking home the prettiest young thing in a skirt he can find at the end of the night. That poor creature will then wake up at the penthouse the following morning and attempt to slip out before anyone else notices her. Unfortunately though, I’m an early riser and usually already sat having my morning coffee in the kitchen in my t-shirt and underwear, so a clean and easy get away very rarely happens.

We’ve barely made it through the door for the evening when he’s already eyeing up some girl dancing around a pole on top of one of the platforms. She’s barely wearing any clothes and has pink and blue hair, definitely Benny’s type. He’s always been fond of something a little more reckless and different- like him. He’s practically salivating as he comes to a stop to stare at her across the top of a couple of booths.

“Don’t even think about it.” Pope’s serious voice cuts through Benny’s thoughts. It has us all looking then.

Pope has never been one to make a comment or cock block any of us for that matter. He’s always said, what we do in our own time is none of his business; but the mere sight of this chick has him growing tight. 

Benny looks like he’s about to protest, his hands rising into the air to indicate back to the chick in a ‘oh come on, how can you say no to that’ kind of way- and I don’t really blame him; this chick’s even got my eyes lingering to places they shouldn’t. But Pope’s face remains firm. “I’m serious Ben, you don’t want to touch that,” he says. “And that goes for all of you.” He adds quickly, seeing the way both William and myself also seem to be taking her in. Because it’s true, she really is like nothing else here. The way she’s dressed, her colorful hair, her confidence- it’s magnetic. 

She sways her hips more, a naughty smile on her face. She knows we’re looking. But her eyes don’t linger on us. They linger on Pope. 

“You know each other?” I ask, observing the obvious.

“She’s David’s kid.” He states as if he’s already exhausted by her. By us. By this whole conversation.

“The fire starter?” Will chimes in. He seems to be eyeing her up with a whole new kind of appreciation now.

“Fire starter?” Benny’s ears prick up and he begins to bounce on the balls of his feet, palms rubbing together as if he’s gearing up for a competition.

“I told you Ben, hands off.” Pope says again. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.” He says and continues to walk towards the back of the club to a raised seating area that’s reserved only for us.

“Yeah, yeah.” Benny sasses back to him, but leans into me, nudging my shoulder with his as he says, “what’s he gonna do?” He nods in David’s daughter's direction, before giving me a mischievous smirk.

PHOENIX

In all fairness, this so-called ‘last night of freedom’ was turning into a bit of a dud until they walked in. There was no real entertainment. It was boring. Predictable.

Lucy was indeed at the club as predicted, flanked by a couple of nobody guys already hovering around her like mosquitoes, despite the fact she didn’t seem to give a single one of them the time of day. My brother of course quickly joined their ranks. No- she was far more focused on doing blow at the table with her “girls” (I’d never met them before… couldn’t even remember their names), but I joined nonetheless. After all, Lucy was loaded. 

She worked as one of those so-called “influencers”. She was constantly charging companies upwards of 10 grand a post, claiming it was such hard work to take a picture and write the perfect caption for her 1 million followers who only followed her for her looks, not her substance- of which she had very little.

So I made small talk, bumped a couple of lines and downed the complimentary bottles of bubbly that kept being brought to her booth and over all, tried to block out the mind numbing monotony of the whole situation. I only started dancing on the table to give myself something to do- but then my new buddy and his friends walked in. Gods he was more handsome and mysterious under the cover of night- and his friends weren’t bad looking either. 

They all wore some version of an all black uniform; casual suits with half open button downs, black T-shirts and leather jackets. I didn’t know which one I wanted to sink my newly single teeth into first, because let’s face it, I’d happily fuck each and every one of them… maybe even twice… or maybe even more than one of them at the same time.

It’s clear the biggest guy wants me too, the way he stands staring, his tongue practically lolling out of his mouth as he salivates, his eyes taking me in like I’m already his favorite meal and he can’t wait to chow down. No doubt he’d take me for the ride of my life, if I let him, but it’d be too easy. I love a challenge and the way Pope has his eyes on me, I really can’t resist. 

As he ushers them to move on, taking the lead as they make their way towards a VIP booth up a couple steps over to the far left of the DJ booth, giving them the perfect view to survey their goods, my mind begins to whir as quickly as my limbs swing around the pole in my hands. I watch tentatively from a distance, taking mental notes of every little thing he does. The way he runs his hands back through his tight curls when he becomes stressed. The way he struggles to relax, always sitting further forward, reaching for his phone or something on the table, or if that fails, fiddling with the buttons of his open blazer as his fist rests against his hip.

He’s uptight that’s for sure. Typical business type who likes to be in control and run the show. If I’m gonna wear him down, it’s gonna take time and not just on the side lines working in this club, but I have to penetrate his inner circle. As I slump back down next to Lucy in the booth, I slowly realize what I have to do. It’s just like in the olden days, if you wanted to bed the King, you had to get yourself in with someone lower down in his court and work your way up- and I knew just who to start with.

BENNY

I knew Pope had said no, but when had that ever stopped me before? He knew what I was like. Knew I’d rather act now and enjoy myself and deal with the consequences later. Besides, it didn’t matter whose kid she was, if she was in here, she was clearly legal and the way she’s been eyeing me up since we sat down, clearly meant she wants this too. She’s firmly placing herself down on the table- and damn- if that isn’t that most appealing slice of cherry pie I have ever seen.

Actually scratch that, she looks like the embodiment of one of those slushies you can get down at the 7/11 and all the guys know the blue raspberry, cherry mix is my favorite.

“Yo! Ben!” My brother snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, breaking me once again from my fixation and fantasies. “Brother, have you been listening to a word Pope just said?”

“Yeah, of course.” I bristle, but in all honesty, I haven’t got a fucking clue.

“Oh really. Go on then,” he presses me, as Pope and Frankie stand and begin to leave the booth, making their way over to the bar, “tell me what he just said.”

“Something about going and checking in with the team leader that’s on tonight to check about sales or something.” I murmur my reply.

“Lucky guess.” My brother says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, why did you call her the fire starter?” I turn and ask him. He’s got that look on his face and struggles to meet my eyes, because he knows it’s a bad idea to answer my question and supply me with no doubt deadly information, but he also knows I’ll just keep asking or find it even more of an intriguing game if he doesn’t.

“She set fire to her school.” He finally says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a stick of gum, unwrapping it and placing it in his mouth. I’ve never understood his obsession with the stuff, but then again, I’ve never understood why he’s such a neat freak either. And to be honest, given my brother's near compulsive need to always have minty fresh breath (despite the fact I know he ain’t been kissing no girls in a long time- not since Kylie broke up with him) I’d probably place my bets on the two things being linked. “Oh and she set her fiancé’s bed on fire when she found him in bed with another girl. Or should I say ex-fiancé now.” Will continued as he chewed down on his gum.

His words had my eyes growing wide. “No, Ben, don’t even think about it.” He chastises me.

“What?” I say indignantly. “How do you know what I was thinking?” I ask him.

“Because I know you. You’re probably wondering what it’s gonna take for her to set you on fire.” I can’t help the small grunt that escapes me as I cross my arms and spread my legs, sitting myself back in the booth. “Yeah- exactly.” My brother says with his know it all attitude. 

I hate it when he does that. He pretends like he’s all high and mighty, but I know for a fact he checked her out too, when we first arrived. And I know he would definitely hit that if given the chance. No doubt she’d be too much for his uptight ass though. But then again, I think to myself as my eyes glance back across the room to her as she gets back up from her seat to begin dancing and wrapping herself seductively around that pole again, maybe that’s exactly what he needs to loosen him up a bit. But given the way she’s currently eyeballing me, there’s no way I’m letting him tap that before me.

PHOENIX

I take my time as I wait for the rest of them to finish up for the night and leave- knowing all too well that Benny would stay behind. Between drinks, and the odd extra sniff of blow off the back of one of Lucy’s guy friends’ hands, me and my target for the night have been eye fucking each other like it’s a sport. At 1am he approached the bar. At 1:15 a pink and blue bubblegum flavored drink made its way over to me. It didn’t take two guesses to work out who had sent it- but the bartender told me anyway. 

I raised it in his direction, with a polite smile of thanks, before I seductively brought the straw to my lips. I kept eye contact with him as I began to suck it down and he gave me the dirtiest smirk, before he turned his attention back to Pope and the rest of their group. When I flashed a look towards the elder gentleman he quickly turned his eyes back away from me, but unfortunately for him he wasn’t quick enough for me to not see the look of contempt in his eyes. Oh yeah, this was gonna be fun.

It was another hour and a half before the rest of them left. At this point Lucy was too far gone. Half of her mates had disappeared. There was only one other girl left at the table with us who was talking to my brother, whilst two other guys who had been thirsting over Lucy all night, finally seized their moment.

“We’re gonna take her home.” one of them shouted as the other attempted to pull a very inebriated Lucy out of the booth. I thought for sure Deano would protest being the sober one and designated driver, but he was far too wrapped up in the red head sat next to him; who also seemed fairly sober considering the state the rest of our group had been getting in most of the night.

Overall though, I couldn’t care less- I had my eyes on my own prize. 

The tall fair haired man finally began to make his way over to me now his companions had officially left the building. He looked like he could be a boxer… or a football player. As he got closer I noticed his eyes were a piercing baby blue. 

“Benny.” He said, holding his hand out to me.

“Phoenix.” I replied with a smile in the corner of my lips, taking his hand carefully in my own and giving it a shake. I noticed Deano notice him and bristle slightly, it was clear he wanted to say something, but the way Benny turned his eye on him, he quickly lost his nerve.

“Deano.” Benny said, laying on the charm.

My brother swallowed hard. “Benny.” He said a little tightly.

“Here-“ Benny said to Dean, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his blazer, “why don’t you two go treat yourself to a couple of drinks on me,” he said, pulling out a money clip. He peeled off a couple of bills, handing them over to my brother, before he slipped the money back into his pocket. Deano gave me a small reluctant and protective look, but when he looked back to Benny, he knew not to protest- after all he did work for him and knew not to get on Ben’s bad side.

“Come on, Isla.” He said to the red headed girl beside him, offering her his hand before leading her over to the bar.

As Benny sat himself down next to me in the booth, I couldn’t help but smirk. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Deano that scared of anyone.” 

Ben let out a scoff, “Nahh.” He said, denying the claim with a small wave of his hand. “It’s nothing really. Dean’s a good guy. I fought him once actually.”

My brow furrowed at the piece of information- so he was a boxer. “Really?” I pondered.

“Ehh just a small little work match.” He said, sitting himself back and smoothing out his trousers. “We’ve got this boxing gym down near the docks. Some of the guys like to go down there sometimes, let off a little steam.”

“Does Pope go?”

“Pope?” His brow furrowed slightly, but his tone was one of surprise. “Nahh… nah.” He said, shaking his head. “My brother and Frankie do sometimes, more to support me and just watch, but no- Pope doesn’t really go there. It’s not really his thing.”

I pause for a moment, just to take in the information. “So what does he do to let off steam then? I mean, the man seems pretty uptight.” I say the second part of the sentence lightly, I don’t want Benny thinking I’m only using him for information about his Boss.

“To be honest… I don’t really know.” Ben confides in you. “I mean, I come here and do my boxing, my brother likes his bikes. Frankie likes to take off into the woods and go fishing. But Pope, honestly, I don’t know.” He goes quiet then. He’s contemplative, as if he’s never really put much thought into it before. I shuffle myself slightly next to him and he quickly snaps back out of it though. “What about you?” He turns his head and asks me, his eyes raking over me and lingering over my chest on the way. “What do you like to do to let off steam?”

☆

I’m barely thinking about how I just ditched my brother, leaving him alone at the club without even saying goodbye, as Benny slams my back into the door to the penthouse apartment. His lips have been on mine since the elevator doors closed. When the bell dinged to signal we had reached the top floor, we hadn’t even parted; he hooked his large hands underneath my ass and lifted me up, my legs and arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders and hips as I allowed him to carry me like a literal child to the door.

He propped me against it with his hips as he fumbled in his pockets looking for a key card. “Wait, wait, wait…” he said against my lips as he reluctantly parted from them, “just give me a… second.” He said as he finally located the card and held it to the small black box beside the door. There was a beep and the tiny light went green as the door went click. “There we go.” He muttered to himself, pulling on the door handle and pushing it open before latching his lips back onto mine and taking me inside. 

He carried me over to the kitchen island, where he finally put me down atop the cold marble countertop, parting with me for only a moment so that he could take off his, no doubt expensive, designer blazer and hand it over the back of one of the bar stools at the end of the island. The quick break allowed me to survey the room in the city lights that streamed in through the large floor to ceiling windows that lined the far left wall and wrapped around the side of the stairs at the end of the large open plan living space, that no doubt lead up to the bedrooms.

“Is anyone else home?” I asked breathlessly, as he moved back around the island to nestle himself between my legs, his large palms sliding up and down my bare legs.

He shook his head, a small glint of excitement in his eyes. “No, my brother and Frankie had business to attend to.” He explained, his eyes moving up and down my body, taking me in like I was a meal, as he spoke. “They won’t be back for at least another couple of hours.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he immediately began to attack my lips with his own again. 

It was thrilling to finally kiss another man after being with Freddie for nearly five years, even his Ben’s lips were a little rougher. It was clear already that Benny was all about force; his job, his muscles, the boxing, his kissing- and although in the right person a little force in sex can be a good thing, I knew sex with Benny would no doubt be fast hard and over way too soon before my orgasm had even had a chance to build. But I’d been watching him all night, saw that look in his eye when he first saw me. Noticed the double take he did when his brother no doubt told him who I was and what I’d done. I’d seen that hunger in him grow and I knew what he truly wanted.

I broke my lips from his, feigning the need to take a breather; and to my delight, felt his lips begin to travel down my neck instead, affording me a chance to look over his shoulder towards the dining table right in front of the window and formulate a plan. I slowly began to walk my fingers down his chest, making a path right for his belt. My lips attached themselves to his once more in an attempt to distract as I began to push him back, hopping down from the counter as I walked him slowly backwards towards the table, carefully maneuvering him around it in front of the large window that overlooked the city. I gently hooked my toes around the chair leg at my side, pushing it out from under the table and shifting it to just the right position behind him, all the while my fingers worked to undo his belt. He smiled against my lips with a knowing chuff as I swiftly pulled the belt from the loops, the metal of the buckle jangling in my grasp.

I met his eyes with a devilish look as I pulled away from him, gently nibbling on my lower lip and he grunted slightly in anticipation. However that grunt turned into a small moan as I pushed him back down into the chair and sat myself on top of him. I could already feel how hard he was in his slacks, eager to get inside me. 

He reached his arms around my back as he tried to grind up into my sex, but I shook my head. “Nuh, uh, uh.” I chastised him, reaching behind me for his wrists. At my words, he pouted, but that childlike look of wonder quickly returned to his eyes when I moved his arms behind his back and began to wrap his belt around them, fastening them tightly into place, before I stood up and began to step back from him.

“What ya gonna do fire starter?” Benny asked me teasingly as I began to sway my hips back and forth; looking him up and down, taking in the sight before me.

“Who, me?” I teased as I slowly began to lift up my top to reveal myself to him.

“You gonna set me on fire too?” He asked almost excitedly.

“Maybe… someday.” I said, as I began to slide my shorts down, leaving them in a puddle of fabric on the floor with my top. Now stood only in my underwear and heels, I began to slowly walk towards him again. “But tonight…” I teased as I circled him, my finger dragging across his chest, up across the back of his shoulders and back again. When I was back in front of him I slowly began to drop to my knees before him, my hands sliding up his thighs and back down again as I parted his knees, “-tonight,” I said again, my fingers beginning to inch back up towards the opening of his slack, “I think I’m just gonna blow-” I unbuttoned his trousers, pulling the fabric and forcing the zip open, “your-” I reached my hands in below his waistband and pulled out his cock, it was so hard and thick just the sight of it made me begin to salivate. “Mind.” I finally said as I wrapped my lips around his cock, my tongue swirling around his tip, making him moan loudly into the dark room.

________________________________

Tag List (if you want to be added, you have to tell me in writing)

@casa-boiardi @southernbe @littlenosoul @movievillainess721 @pastawench @littlemisspascal

[issie-https]

Working Mom

Dave Grohl X Reader

A/n: Just a little something while I work on the requests❤️ I recently got into a show called ‘Workin Moms’ on Netflix and I love it! I defo recommend giving it a watch.

Word count: 1091

Warnings: Daddy Grohl(not in a sexual way tho👀), angst, swearing

Masterlist

༺✩༻

“Y/n, wake up," I heard Dave whisper. I woke up and looked at the clock beside me and it read '7:02am'. "I can have five more minutes," I groaned. "You told me to wake you up at seven, it's two past seven," he replied. "Three more minutes then," I yawned. "Y/n. Get. Up." He said, nudging me to the edge of the bed. Then our baby, Alfie, started crying. "Alfie needs boob. I don't have any," he said, kissing my cheek. I groaned loudly and slugged to his room.

He came into Alfie's room mid feed and whistled. "You're so gross," I rolled my eyes and held back a laugh. "Says the one that eats food off her shirt," he replied, standing behind me and massaging my shoulders. "Would you rather me waste it or drop it on the floor," I said. "How much does this kid eat?" He asked. "However much he feels like every two to three hours," I replied. "I could eat that much," he said. "You do eat that much," I laughed lightly, "can you burp him?". He took Alfie and started patting his back. "Us drummers need their energy," he said. "And us mummy's need our energy but i don't empty the cupboards within five hours of the shop being done," I replied, going out the bedroom and into our room. "Maybe we should be an ingredient household," he mocked. "You'd eat flour," I said, changing into my blouse and skirt. Just as Dave was about to say something, Alfie burped, making Dave laugh.

"Okay, I'm off now. I've briefed you and once again, only call if he is dead or on fire," I said, grabbing my car keys and bag. "What happens in the death is in progress?" He joked. "David Eric Grohl," I scolded. "Have a great day," he said, kissing my lips. "You too. I know you can do this," I praised, heading out the door.

"Look who's back!" My work and best friend, Nicole, cheered as she ran over to give me a hug. "Back and more ready to work than ever," I smiled, squeezing her tight. "Sorry to ruin your mood but we have a meeting first thing," she said somewhat carefully. "And I'm already fantasising about killing Andy," I rolled my eyes as we headed to the meeting room.

"Ah, Y/n, welcome back! How's Dave and Alfie?" My boss, Andrew, said. "Dave is amazing, loving being a daddy. Archie is loving Dave. I'm loving... food, mainly," I replied. "Well, thank you for coming back. Let's jump right into the meeting," he said.

The meeting was very bland, just something about partnering with another company for a project.

I finally got back to my old office. I've missed the view. Through the completely glass windows, I could see the cityscape, windows glistening, cars dashing around and people tending to their everyday needs. My first piece of work since coming back was now on my desk, getting my blood flowing to get back to work.

Ten minutes after my lunch break and pump, my work phone started ringing. "Hello, you've reached Y/n at-" I started. "Y/n, help. He won't stop crying. I- I don't know w-what to do," I heard Dave say, distressed and tears evident in his voice. "Honey, what happened?" I replied, concern getting to me. "He won't stop crying and I've done everything. Feeding, diaper change, nap, play time, book. Everything," he cried. "Has he hurt anything or got nappy rash or got any more teeth coming through?" I asked, searching for a reason our son was literally wailing on the other side of the phone. "No, I've checked," he replied out of breath. "Okay, give me fifteen to twenty minutes and I will be there. Stay strong, handsome," I said, shoving my things back into my bag. "Okay. I love you," he said and hung up the phone.

"Andrew, I really need to go home. I'm so fucking sorry but Alfie is literally screaming murder," I rushed. "I understand. Will you be in tomorrow?" He replied. "Yes! Thank you!" I replied, yelling as I ran to the lift.

I got into my car and sped home, most likely earning myself a few speeding tickets on the way.

"Dave, angel, I'm home," I yelled from the front door, hearing Alfie screaming as loud as possible. "Help me," he cried, handing our son to me. "Look at me. You're doing fucking amazing, lots of people don't have dads because they can't handle it. But here you are, you're doing amazing," I praised.

I stripped Alfie down to his nappy and checked him all over for any indication of what could be making him make me and Dave go deaf. I lightly pressed on his stomach and I could feel the gas in his stomach. "He's got trapped gas," I sighed. "How? I burped him," he also sighed. "It happens to everyone, honey. He needs a little massage or some crap that I read in that stupid book," I said. "Teach me because if I have to go deaf from a child, I will shove my drumsticks in my chest," he sighed.

I showed him how to get the gas un trapped or whatever and the second he farted, he was silent. "Thank you so fucking much. I love you," he smiled tiredly, hugging me and kissing me. "Well, I'm home for the rest of the day and it's two forty-seven now. What should we do?" I asked, putting Alfie's outfit back on. "He missed nap time and I'm going to cry if I don't sleep soon so how about a nap?" He said, rubbing our sons back. "That sounds amazing I need to change into my pyjamas first so you have a little cuddle with the velociraptor," I replied, handing him the fucking dinosaur that came out of me. "I'd say he's a pterodactyl," he said, kissing our son on the head. "True. How about you put him to bed while I change," I suggested. "Deal," he agreed.

I changed into my pyjamas and saw Dave sprawled out on the bed in just his boxers. "Baby got back," I sang, slapping his ass. "How the tables have turned," he laughed as I pretty much just collapsed into bed. He pulled me to his chest and stroked my hair, kissing the top of my head. "I love you so much," he whispered. "I love you so much too," I replied, closing my eyes.

[arcplaysgames]

Breakin' the hearts of middle-aged cruise-loving housewives, Sojiro? I'm willing to walk but I guess you wanna linger around and remind me what a bad dude I am.

Reverie, we might need to speedrun the transformation from Quiet, Chill Dude to Absolute Fucking Menace out of spite. Fuck being a law-abiding citizen, i want to get a can of gasoline and set this dude's desk on fire.

squints

That's my student ID and what. She seemed kind of verklempt about it so I assume something risque.

Man, that'd just be the way of it, right? Everyone here giving Reverie shit for his trumped up charges and my teacher is doing something illicit on the side.

Bruh, this is less cold shoulder and more shoving my head into the arctic ocean. In my last life, I met a girl and within three minutes she'd kicked one of my classmates in the balls, and I feel like that'd be a warmer welcome than y'all been givin'.

One: I like actually seeing a portrait of our guy, it actually helps me feel like I know this sad sack.

Two: Why does every single thing I hear about this feel like Reverie is being set up for even more fall-guy-ification? Who the fuck asked you, Sojiro, and who the fuck paid you, and was it a guy with an enormous nose and voice like thunder echoing in a canyon?

Plot shit is happening. There are a lot of weird accidents around the city. Violent ones. It feels like something goopy is comin' out of the victims. Is that shadow goop or other goop? Time will tell.

Hey its our Seeker of Andraste, Sae, watching the news of the derailment. Apparently she thinks the weird incidents are connected. Which already means she Knows To Much and I bet her superiors will try to betray her later.

Also, THAT'S Akechi right? He looks like a beige origami towel decided to go to school, but Sae talks to him like he's knowledgeable. Naoto 2.0, This Time Not Hot?

Sojiro calls up the cafe to tell Reverie to lock up and turn the sign, and has this gemstone.

Dojima, hey, I'm sorry for comparing you to this guy earlier. Yeah, sorry about that, you didn't deserve it.

It's like trying to uninstall bloatware and it getting re-added every time you do a fucking security update, Motorola.

Sojiro does make us curry for breakfast, which would be thoughtful if I wasn't convinced he'd put us out on the street for vaping.

Also I love curry but curry for breakfast? I'm good, thanks.

YOUR PAL ARCHIE IS OFF TO A GREAT START. god this game doesn't give me a fast travel menu, I am Fucked.

Out in the rain, we spot a future party member. Her hair is incredible, look at that volume. Reverie stares for a while and I think he's just Super Awkward. Like, I've glimpsed Reverie The Cool Thief Guy in the opening sequence. It's like there's a Clark Kent thing going on here, where normal Reverie is such a Awkward Turtle you cannot imagine him as Sly Cooper.

... wait is she Moot? hey, girl, are you Moot?

fucking Evil Patrick Warburton drives by and offers Moot a ride in the rain. He also offers Reverie, and Reverie gives

THE MOST AWKWARD LITTLE WAVE

like oh honey. I'm trying to nail down his personality and so far I think it's I Got Audio Processing Issues And Rather Than Asking Everyone To Repeat Themselves I Just Make Affirming Noises And Wave. Boy howdy.

Oh and Moot looks about as thrilled to be in that car as I would be thrilled to sit on a knife. So this Kamoshida guy is not a safe dude I presume. Sorry, Moot, next time I'll come up with an excuse to get you outta there.

Already met another party member! Also, WOW your bleach job is AMAZING? Look at that texture you have, look at the fullness of the color. What are you using, bro, is that Ion Sensitive Scalp, I find that one is great for aggressive lightening without making shit feel like straw. What's your conditioner?

Also, king of the castle, huh. Given what's about to happen, that's an interesting 'coincidence.'

Then the story jumps back to the Framing Device all of a sudden.

"Psychotic breakdown incidents" wow, could you guys not come up with something that rolls off the tongue, like Apathy Syndrome?

Was Reverie ordinary, idk man, what do you think happens when you hear "hey you fucking suck and will be homeless if you so much as smoke a single solitary weed" 7 times a day?

I bet Reverie could use a weed tbh.

[panzershrike-pretz]

Graves - pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

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Hey! Made a new part! I really like how it turned out and there's ✨️lore✨️!

Taglist: @onehelluvamarine @1waveshortofashipwreck @whollyjoly @sweetxvanixlla @xxluckystrike @executethyself35 (if you want in or out, tell me!)

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Dean was the one who slowly pushed the door open, a nervousness taking over his body as he took in the room filled to the brim with the most random stuff it could be - all from books to a full unicorn taxidermy, staring down at him from it's shelf.

It was about the size of a wild hare with bared pointy teeth and black eyes. Dean had never seen a real unicorn before; Archie had told him how hard to catch those creatures were. Small, fast and aggressive, who used their horns to kill their prey. He wondered for a second if they were really as scary as the taxidermy mount, but decided not to question it.

The atmosphere was heavy, filled with the sound of feather scratching paper and fire burning at the fireplace - even as the rest of the group entered, stepping on the usually creaking floor boards, it seemed too quiet. Too still.

Sat right in the middle of the room, was a desk full of uninteresting paperwork and useless decoration. Miss Peacock was there, looking at the papers without even batting an eye at the group at first - she only did so when Seamus made a shy 'ahem' sound.

Her eyes drifted from her work, up to his face, and she raised her brows, glasses slipping a bit down her muzzle.

“I see you have returned.” She let down the feather she was writing with, then entangled her fingers, curious to what they had to say. “Without Pigeon and an hour and a half after your real return. One must wonder where have you been; you put the whole place in deep fear. We were about to send out a search party.”

“Miss Pigeon refused to join us,” said Sam, a bit intimidated by the woman. It was too dark in the room for him to tell who the other women were - he recognized Laura Macaw, Peacock's own apprentice and personal assistant. Other than that, he could only guess who the others could be. “She made a point about killing whoever went after her next.”

“She's elusive as always. That's how she spent so long in hiding. We're the first to find her and that's how she welcomes us…” Peacock pushed her reading glasses up, before drinking a sip of tea, then taking a look down at the papers again.

Seamus thought about the Hollow that was set loose upon Pigeon’s loop, but decided not to talk about it. Peacock knew about the creature because of Pangea's vision, but didn't know it was wandering the place for over a week before they could access it.

“She said she doesn't want to see you again. Ever. And that you were a cowardly bitch.” Enoch continued, a grin on his face that he was lucky Miss P couldn't see in the dark. Her eyes stared at him with such intensity, though, that he regretted his words instantly.

Peacock recomposed herself, opening a sweet smile before saying: “Don't you pay attention to such a thing. She's out of her mind. Staying isolated for so long takes its toll on a person, you see…” then she looked at one of the women in the room, which Seamus finally recognized to be Hydra. Peacock's eyes narrowed. “Now, what kind of language do your Ymbrynes let you use…?”

Enoch followed her gaze to the nervous woman, who looked like she wanted to disappear on the spot.

“I'm sorry… Miss Peacock…”

“Now, you two did fail your mission, though I'm not severely surprised…” she looked back, picking her feather back up. “Next time I'll need to pick more competent people, I see. No thanks to you, Miss Ibis.”

“I'm sorry, Miss Peacock.” Hydra said, quickly, letting her head down. “It'll not happen again. You'll not be disappointed anymore.”

“Correct, I won't. You promised me your children were good for any task, but they failed at such a simple thing as to bring a one-legged old-woman to me. I'll not be using their help for these missions again.” Peacock went back to writing, after dipping the feather's tip in some ink. She stopped mid sentence, though, to look up once more. “Will you tell me why you kids took so long to get to me?”

“No, ma'am… I fear not.” Sam simply put.

Peacock shook her head, then made a dismissing motion with her hand.

“Then out of my office.”

They bowed, showing at least some respect, before quickly scurrying away, followed by Hydra. She opened her wings enough to cover their backs as they made their way through the hall, looking over her shoulder as Laura closed the door.

Hydra guided them, looking extremely nervous as she whispered to herself in an ancient language. After some walking, though, she let them stop, finally feeling just safe enough to check on them.

“Oh, thank the Gods you're safe!” She said, pulling both Enoch and Seamus for a hug. It was clear how worried she was before and now, close to tears, she couldn't quite believe her eyes, seeing them alive and in one piece. “I-I was so worried I'd lose you!”

Enoch mumbled something, before pulling himself away from her. He crossed his arms, looking at the floor: “Well, it didn't seem so while we were being humiliated by that glorified chicken.”

Hydra sighed, trying to place her hand on his shoulder, just before he stepped back, out of reach.

“I'm sorry, Enoch. I truly am. I know I should've said something, but… Miss Peacock can be hard to deal with. I'm sure she didn't mean any of tha-”

“Out of the way, searats!” Laura's voice was sharp and full of hatred as she passed by, using her blue colored wings to push Hydra and the group out of her way. “I'm impressed Miss P still lets you wander around these halls. A dirty, disgusting bunch…”

“Oh, shut yer trap!” Dean let out, receiving a very hostile look from the woman. He didn't back away, though; instead, just puffed his neck and tail fur - he just didn't do anything more because Sam quietly held his hand.

“I think Miss P is extremely kind by giving you a chance,” she said, turning around just enough for her to face him. She carried a bunch of books and paper scrolls, presumably to be retrieved to the library. “Pirates are good for one thing alone, and you know what it is.”

“Say it, then!” He dared, furious.

“To hang.” Laura then turned to go, leaving the group behind as she disappeared in the halls of Venus’ Pandeloop.

Dean wanted to break free from Seamus and run after her, to attack, but a tug made his attention shift to his partner. He looked angry, ready to take on that fight even if it meant he could actually be sentenced to death by the Bird Council. The only thing that held him back was Sam's pleading look.

“Dee, let her be.” His voice was calm, gentle, though still carrying some sadness by the way Laura had spoken.

“Let her be?! She said our only purpose is to die! To meet the end of the rope! How am I supposed to let her be?!”

“Jeremy said the same thing once…” Hydra said, looking hurt. “We wanted to throw him overboard, but we didn't. I never knew why, but we let him be. Now, he's a changed man. He doesn't think like that anymore. People can change their minds, Dean, give Laura time to actually know and understand us.”

“I think she's a prejudiced piece of good-for-nothing crap!” Enoch huffed, sounding angry. "We should trow her to Artemis' dragons!"

“And how are you any better?” Pangea asked, making him go silent.

The way back through the almost empty halls was silent. During the day, that place was filled with people of all kinds, from everywhere in time and every part of the world, traveling through the Pandeloop's portals to visit places and friends. From winged women being followed by their peculiar children to weird looking animals and groups of scientists meeting to talk about discoveries. At night, though, all you could see were the occasional staff cleaning and tidying up the place.

They passed by the known people, giving them faint smiles and quiet waves as they went but, other than that, they were each absorbed in their own minds.

As the group approached their own door, right at the end of one of the second floor's halls, Hydra pushed it open. The door was made out of wood, seemingly normal if not for the corrosions from salinity and the smell of ocean water coming from behind it. Besides that, the only other indication that it was the right door for them to go through, was a golden sign with “Blithe, present. Restricted access. Do not enter.”

The room slowly transitioned from a guest room in London, 1886, to a pirate ship's jail, on the lowest deck of it.

They went through, feeling a slight shift in the air as they stepped out of the past and directly into the present. Going from stable ground to a moving one, as the waves swayed Blithe around, made the group almost lose their balance, safe from Hydra, the best prepared for it. She used her wings to help them stand normally and, when they all finally seemed to be able to actually stand by themselves, she opened the cell's door for them to get out.

Peggy wagged her whole body as she started sniffing around, shoving her nose in one of the ship's cats face - Oops hissed at her. The cat, sleeping peacefully inside the cell, was definitely caught off guard as her owners stepped out of seemingly the wall. Unable to see the portal, Oops simply arched her back, trying to seem dangerous before almost hitting Peggy in the nose and running off, letting out angry hisses and meows.

Seamus was the first to step into the ship's kitchen, caught by surprise by the presence of all the Crew, standing around the table and looking down at a map. He had almost forgotten his command to Horace, for him to gather everyone and fill them in, to the best of his ability.

“So, Pansy is back?” Hugh tilted his head, a couple of bees flying around his face as he stared at the group, waiting for the rest of the news.

“Yes, and she…”

“Kidnapped Harriet Compton?” Millard asked; even if he was invisible and no one could see his face, his voice made it absolutely clear that he was holding back so he wouldn't cry. His efforts were in vain, though, as he saw Sam's small nod. He covered his mouth with his hand, looking down as a hiccup left his throat.

“You worked with her, right…?” Juni's voice was low and gentle as she reached for his shoulder, rubbing her hand against him, trying to soothe Millard. “I'm sorry, Mills. She’ll be alright, I know it.”

“Oh… if Pansy needssed someone to guide her through the Map of Days, it could've been him…” Olive said, receiving weird looks that she couldn't quite understand. “What?! It is true!”

“Olive, please take Claire and go play upside.” Natasha smiled at her, trying to convince the kid to step out of the kitchen so she wouldn't have to listen to anything, if it came to it, but Olive didn't move a single strand of fur.

“I'm older than you!” She argued. “And so is Claire!”

“Ye're still physically and mentally kids, though. Please, dear, would ye do it for yer dad?” Rodion intervened, kneeling to stand at her height. He had a smile, gently holding her little hands with his big, calloused ones. “I know ya want to be included, but just this time, ok?”

“Not fair! Mamma lets me participate in stuff!” She stomped her feet, looking around for someone to defend her, but everyone seemed to agree that it was better if the kids were left out of the discussion. “Why do you all act like I don't know anything?!”

“We know ye're an amazing lil’ fighter, Olive. We know ye know a lot.” Rodion got back up, gently shoving her in the direction of the exit. “This time, tho, there'll be stuff ya don't wanna hear.”

She crossed her arms, stomping away followed by Claire. Her white fur let it show how her face turned red in anger, as she huffed and puffed all the way up the stairs, mumbling about how “grown ups are stupid!”, “I can shoot and sword fight!” and “I'm not scared of Pansy Graves!”.

Rodion let out a sigh, turning back towards the rest of the crew, waiting for their information and plans to be laid out.

“Alright… we stopped by the Cutthroat Inn and Jack told us he thought the next place Pansy would go is her family's estate, we just don't know where it is.” Sam started, leaning against the table as he tried to make sense of the UK's map. “We know they're bankrupt and living off the Serpen's loaned money. Presumably, also close to one of your family's places…?” His eyes darted back up at Sirius and Hydra.

Both stood side by side, looking at the map in silence. Sirius leaned forward, pointing at London and tracing a line with his finger towards Hampshire.

“Me family has a manor in the countryside here, up near North Wessex. We used to travel there in the summer with Mother, remember Hydra?” He tilted his head, tapping the map. “I think the Grave's Manor is near here. Mother would talk about ‘em being good people and she wanted our Grandmother to marry Hydra to ‘em instead of the Carrow Family.”

“Oh, yeah, a lot of magical families lived nearby or had summer residences there.” Hydra nodded, trying to think. “The Graves, the Carrows… now Sagitta and Scorpius, after they married. Didn’t Archie's grandparents live there too? The Müllers.”

“Well, it means he could help us find out which is the Grave's manor.” Dean pointed out. “Just gotta know how the fuck do we get there while also passing by Brighton to get him.”

“Easy; you go from the Devil's Acre directly to Brighton.” Hydra said, immediately noticing the confused faces. “Oh, you didn’t know, right? The third floor will be closed tomorrow, by Peacock's orders. There'll be no way out of the Devil's Acre unless you go through Miss Lyrebird's imitation of the Pandeloop.”

“Miss Lyrebird's what the fuck?”

Hydra stopped, biting her tongue. For a moment, she wanted to hide herself and act as if nothing happened but, now, she had no way out of the discussion without spilling all the beans.

“Kenji and I were scared when Peacock took control over the Pandeloop. I pulled Lyrebird aside one day and she helped us come up with a plan B in any case…” She looked down, seemingly guilty for not telling everyone earlier about what she and the other two had done in secret. “I stole Venus’ old papers from when she was being forced by Regulus to build the Pandeloop and we set up another one inside Lyrebird's Loop…”

Hydra sat down in one of the chairs, a little dizzy from pure anxiety.

“We- we know it works to send someone somewhere, but it can't open for someone to come back through it. It's a one-way ticket to wherever you want, but you have to come back without it.”

“Well, we’ll be in the present so it shouldn't be hard to get back…” Sam mumbled, still trying to wrap his head around the news. “We use it to go to Brighton, get Archie and he takes us to the Graves’ Manor.”

“No! Absolutely not!” Hydra spat out, suddenly getting up again and promptly regretting it. She took a deep breath. “You can't go there. You have no clue how that place will act once they find out you're there.”

“Why…?” Dean tilted his head, confused.

“If you think Laura is prejudiced, you never met one of those families!” Hydra stared at him, her wings shooting open. “I was born and raised with them, Dean, you have no idea how far their hatred can go. They'll disappear with all of you solely because you're not considered ‘pure’, or whatever.”

Dean wanted to protest, but Sirius stopped him with a motion of his hand, before speaking up.

“Hydra 's right. They tried to kill me, their own blood. What would stop ‘em from killing y'all? They're all on Regulus' side, anyway.”

“At the same time, we need to stop Pansy…” Jeremy said. Until now, he had been silent sitting with his hands together, staring at the map almost without blinking. He finally looked up at Sirius, grabbing his hand to calm him. “Ay, love, ye know ‘em. Those kids are made out o’ iron. I trust ‘em to go there and come back alive.”

Seamus let his ears down, then looked at his own hands. He didn't like to mention his own health conditions or curses but, somehow, he felt like it would bring some peace to Hydra and Sirius.

“I'm… an Obscurus…” he said, slowly, trying to look up only to fail. “If anything happens to anyone… I can… uh… let go…”

“FUCKIN’ NO!” Dean yelled, grabbing him by the arm. “The Gods know when you’ll die ‘cause of that… thing! I don't need to lose ya now!” Dean let go, still looking absolutely betrayed by the mere idea. “That parasite drains your soul every time you let it take over and you know it!”

“You have to promise, Sam.” Pangea said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot on the ground. “No Obscurus. No matter what.”

He simply nodded, looking up at Hydra and Sirius. Both still seemed anxious, but if Jeremy gave the green flag for them to go, it was final.

“Alright. I promise.”

“Good.” Jeremy got up, still holding Sirius’ hand. “The three of you should rest and leave early tomorrow.”

“I'm… not going… I have to stay and take care of Enoch.” Pangea said, side eyeing him. “I promised Eleanor I'd look for him if the potion's side effects grow worse.”

“Oh… well… then… “ Jeremy looked around, eyes falling upon Natasha and Emma. “You two will go. Their powers are great for defense and attack, if needed.”

The two girls seemed caught by surprise, but didn't argue, simply nodding their heads with a slight smile on their faces.

"Wait! You're letting us go?" Natasha placed a hand on her hip, a sassy smile forming on her lips. "Fuck yeah, we're ready!"

"Someone has to save the boys' fur..." Emma winked at Sam and Dean, before letting out a laugh. She leaned against her friend's shoulder, jokingly putting up her middle finger to Sam and Dean, with a single flame burning at the end of it.

Seamus crossed his arms, letting out a mumbled "fucking great..." as he heard Dean laugh. He wasn't completely against the girls' involvement with the mission, but he couldn't quite put aside the fear that both of their strong perdonalities would end up being more of an obstacle to them.

"See you by the morning. We're leaving when Sun's up."

"A'ight, sir!" Natasha did a playful playful salute, that only made his patience drop a little more. He knew it was a joke, but part of him couldn't help but feel pissed at how unserious they were.

Nate and Emma both walked away, giggling with themselves as they disappeared down the stairs, walking towards the sleeping quarters.

"They'll give you a headache~ ", Dean joked, side eyeing Sam's already tired face.

"Yeah, good luck." Pangea agreed, a soft laugh leaving her mouth. "They're not quite your usual soldiers, Seamus."

"I can't quite think if that's good or bad..."

[talesofarcadia78]

Bad Day || Douxie x Reader || One Shot

Summary: Title says it all 

Warning: None 

Word count:  2,293

You were really tired of customers today. But you had to get over the fact that you were working at a bookstore. The place you used to worked at, Stuart Electronics, the owner said that he didn’t need any employees, since he could manage the customers by himself. Plus, he didn’t get many customers. If he didn’t earn enough money from the shop, Stuart would just get his taco truck out and earn money from there. But you just took it as he fired you. You were fine with that. But you were definitely not fine with having to deal with customers everyday. Stuart always let you deal with the storage stuff.  

“Y/n? Hello? Anyone home?” a familiar British accent spoke, getting you out of your thoughts. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m home,” you replied. 

“You’re not home, you doofus. You’re at the bookstore. Home is upstairs,” Douxie chuckled. 

“Uh, yeah,” you said. 

“Y/n, you have to focus. I’ll take care of the front. Can you go to the back and get 5 books from the new shipment box that arrived a few days ago?” Douxie asked. 

You nodded and walked to the back, grabbing the books that Douxie requested.

After about an hour, Douxie finally closed up the shop. 

“Finally! I’m so done!” you sighed and plopped yourself down onto an armchair.

“Yep! Just another day of our casual life,” Douxie agreed, walking over to the counter and counting the money we earned today. 

“Don’t you get tired of working everyday?” you asked. 

“Nah, I don’t. Why?” Douxie replied. 

“I just can’t, I get bored very easily, if you haven’t realised yet,” you replied. 

“I think I now that. I’ve known for almost a millennium now!” Douxie laughed. 

Then Archie came flying down, and onto you lap. 

“How was your day y/n?” Archie asked. 

“Hmm... let’s see. Boring, tiring, oh and have I said boring?” you replied. 

“I believe you have,” Archie replied. 

“Well, yeah. I’m kinda getting bored from the bookstore,” you whined. 

“Please, it’s not that boring,” Douxie said, getting a stool and sitting in front of you. 

“It’s boring to me, as you already know,” you said. 

“How about we go upstairs?” Archie asked. 

“That’s a good idea,” you agreed getting up. 

The three of you walked upstairs, and to the back. Douxie pulled an ancient book out of its place just a bit. Slowly, the whole shelf slid away, revealing a huge room. That ‘huge room’ was your apartment. 

You and Douxie shared an apartment together, since the two of you only had each other and Archie of course. 

You walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. You looked around, not much, just a milk carton, eggs, salmon and some vegetables. You groaned and slammed the door shut. 

“Someone’s a bit grumpy,” Douxie teased. 

“Technically, I’m hangry,” you corrected him. 

“Let me guess, no food?” Douxie asked, but he already knew the answer. 

“Yep! I’m not making pasta again, cause that’s all we’ve been eating for the last week,” you forewarned. 

“Okay, okay. What about we go to Mr. Benoit’s?” Douxie suggested. 

You looked at him briefly, and rushed into your room, slamming the door shut behind. You quickly got changed into a hoodie and a pair of jeans. You combed your h/l (hair length) h/c hair and tied it into a pony tail (if you have short hair, then it’s just left out). You rushed out of the room to see Douxie ready to go. 

“Come on, let’s go,” Douxie said. 

The two of you walked to the cafe and sat at a table outside. A waiter came and took your order. 

“So, have you found another place to work?” Douxie asked out of the blue. 

“W-What do you mean?” you asked. 

“I thought you would be searching for another place to work at, since you clearly don’t like working at the shop,” Douxie explained. 

“Am I that convincing?” you asked. 

Douxie looked at you confused. You sighed. 

“Douxie, look, I actually really love working at the bookstore. I might sound like I hate it, but I actually really love it there. I might get bored sometimes, since I’m at the counter, working with the customers. I don’t want to work anywhere else,” you explained. 

“But you were complaining like 20 minutes ago!” Douxie exclaimed. 

“Can’t anyone have a bad day?” you laughed. 

But when you saw Douxie’s face, you instantly stopped laughing. 

“Uh, Doux. You good?” you asked. 

“You had a bad day?” Douxie whispered to himself, making sure you couldn’t hear him. 

“Douxie?” you asked. 

“I’m fine,” Douxie replied and fell silent. 

“Okay,” you said, and turned to see the waiter with food. 

The dinner went good, but none of you said anything to the other. The walk home was also very quiet. When you had gotten to your apartment, the two of you just wished each other good night and went to your rooms. You wondered why Douxie was so quiet through the whole dinner. You shook the thought off and concluded that he just must’ve been tired. You changed into your night wear and fell asleep. 

Douxie on the other hand, was at his desk, planning for the next day. 

“Douxie, what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” Archie asked. 

“Arch, y/n never told me she had a bad day today,” Douxie said. 

“Well, everyone has a bad day every once in a while,” Archie shrugged. 

“Arch, you’re not getting the point. Whenever I have a bad day, y/n is always there for me. She would make me my favourite food, play a few songs on her piano or would just talk to me. Either way, she always eventually makes my bad day better,” Douxie explained. 

Archie was catching on what Douxie was trying to say. 

“And there’s me. Today she had a bad day, and what did I do? Nothing,” Douxie said. 

“So your planning something for her?” Archie asked. 

“Exactly! Tomorrow, I’m going to make her day the best. I’ll take her to a nice place for breakfast, go out of town and have a picnic. Then, I’m going to take her to the cinema’s at night, where we’ll watch Danger House. After the movie, we’ll grab something from the taco truck and then head home!” Douxie explained his plan. 

“Why not also confess your feelings for her as well?” Archie added. 

“Wait what?!” Douxie gasped. 

“You heard me right, Douxie. I’ve seen the way you look at her and the way she looks at you. But the both of you are so oblivious,” Archie said. 

“What if she rejects me?” Douxie asked. 

“That’s what has been stopping you from confessing your feelings to her. Just trust yourself, Doux,” Archie said, and walked out of the room. 

 After Archie left, Douxie got into bed but before he feel asleep he promised himself that he’ll confess his feelings to you tomorrow. 

The next day, you got up and walked into the kitchen. But before you got to the fridge, Douxie stopped you. 

“Stop right there, love,” Douxie said. 

“Why? Are you the police?” you joked. 

“No, but we’re going to go to a cafe for breakfast,” Douxie announced. 

“But-” you started but were cut off by Douxie. 

“No buts or ifs. Now get ready, I’ll meet you downstairs,” Douxie said, pushing you into the bathroom, handing you your towel. 

You quickly took a shower and got dressed into an off-the-shoulder shirt and ripped jeans. 

Once you were downstairs, you saw Douxie holding the door open for you. You smiled and walked outside. Douxie closed the shop and the two of you walked to Mr. Benoit’s. 

The two of you had breakfast. It was a pretty good one. Douxie did a trick to make the coffee cold, which made the waiter go and get a another cup. Douxie kept on doing that, until you were crying from laughing. After breakfast, the two of you went out of town in Douxie’s car. Douxie didn’t tell you the place but it was beautiful. The two of you explored around the mountains and alleyways. After that, the two of you had a picnic. He had brought sandwiches, a pie and juice. The two of you chatted away while eating your food. The two of you then looked at the clouds pass by, pointing out shapes, animals or anything you could make out. 

“Hey, do you see that cat. It looks like Archie,” Douxie pointed to a cloud. 

You tried to find it but you couldn’t. 

“Where?” you asked. 

“There,” Douxie replied, grabbing your hand and pointing to the cloud. 

While you were looking for the cat, Douxie was looking at you. You looked cute when you tried to look for something. He just couldn’t get his eyes of you. 

After a while, you gave up looking and turned around to see Douxie staring at you. You blushed at the way he was looking at you. 

“Doux? You home?” you asked, waving your hand in front of him. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m at home,” Douxie replied. 

“Your not home, you magical doofus. Your at... well I don’t know where we are actually,” you tried to joke. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t since you had no idea where the two of you were. Only Douxie knew. Douxie started to crack up, noticing your joke didn’t turn out too well. You playfully glared at him, trying to be angry. 

Douxie then slowly stopped laughing. 

“You know you look very cute when your angry,” Douxie commented. 

You blushed at his comment. 

“And even more cute when you were trying to look for the cat cloud. Even more when your focused on your work. Whenever your trying to get a recipe right, whenever your trying to get Archie to give your belongings back,” Douxie continued. 

“Well... I... um... thank you,” you said, blushing even more. “Why are you all of a sudden saying these things?” you ask. 

“Because I want to tell you the truth. You’re very kind, caring, selfless and much more. I’m so lucky to have you in my life, y/n. You’re always looking out for Archie and me. I-I love you y/n l/n,” Douxie confessed. 

You looked at him wide eyed. You always had feelings for him, but you never knew he had feelings for you as well. You looked into his hazel eyes, while he looked into your e/c eyes. Slowly the two of you leaned forward. As you got closer, you slowly closed your eyes. Then, your lips touched. The kiss was soft and passionate. The two of you pulled away, looking into each other’s eyes. 

“I love you too, Hisirdoux Casperan,” you said. 

The two of you then continued cloud watching, while you leaned your head on his shoulder and his on top. The two of you watched the sunset and returned to Arcadia. 

“So, did you have a good day, my love?” Douxie asked. 

“Yes, thank you Douxie,” you replied. 

“Well, what about we go watch Danger House?” Douxie said, holding up two tickets. 

“Really?! I’ve been wanting to watch that for ages!” you squeal. 

Douxie chuckled at your excitement. He drove to Lucia. 

The two of you walked into the cinema, hand in hand. You two watched Danger House together. There were some scenes you didn’t want to see, so you hid your face in Douxie’s shoulder. 

After the movie, the two of you were walking out of the cinema, when you saw Stuart’s taco truck. 

“Doux, you hungry?” you ask, tugging on his arm. 

“Well, now that you mention it, love, I am,” Douxie chuckled, looking down to his stomach. 

“Let’s go to Stuart’s taco truck,” you suggested, pulling him behind you. 

The two of you walked over to the taco truck. You saw Jim, Claire, Toby, Steve, Aja, Krel and Eli, all grabbing burritos. 

“Hey, it’s Douxie and y/n!” Toby shouted, pointing to you and Douxie. 

“Hi Toby,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” the others greeted. 

“Don’t you all have school to go to tomorrow?” Douxie asked, walking over to the truck and ordering. 

“Well, yeah. But we all just came back from trollhunting and we’re starving,” Toby replied. 

“That’s a reasonable excuse,” you nodded. 

“What have you two been up to?” Steve asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“Nothing. Just went out of town and just watched Danger House,” Douxie replied, handing you a burrito. 

“Nothing else?” Claire teased. 

“Uh... nope,” you and Douxie answer, nervously. 

“Sure, sure,” Jim teased. 

“You too, Jim?” you gasped. 

“What can I do? You two are fun to tease, since you two haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet,” Jim shrugged. 

“Technically, we already did,” Douxie grinned. 

“Wait, what!” all the kids exclaim. 

“Spill!” Claire and Aja begged. 

“Maybe another time guys. I’m sorry, but we got to go,” Douxie said, pulling you towards the bookstore. 

They all started to whine, but they all eventually stopped and waved bye. 

You and Douxie walked into the bookstore and were greeted by Archie. 

“So... how was your day?” Archie asked.

“The best!” you replied. 

“So did Douxie...” Archie started. 

“Yeah,” you and Douxie finished. 

“Finally! I was getting so tired of looking at the two of you!” Archie cheered. 

The three of you laughed and made your way to your apartment. 

You were going to close your bedroom door when Douxie stopped you. 

“Uh, Douxie, what are you doing?” you asked.

“I came to give you a goodnight kiss, duh,” Douxie replied. 

You rolled your eyes. He quickly gave you a peck on your lips and wished you goodnight. You closed your door and jumped into bed. Today was the best day of your life. 

[bugheadsextape]

Angry + Magic + Whyte Wyrm

“What do you mean you’re jumping?” she asks. It takes him by surprise that she’s so upset about it, but obviously she would be. It’s not that she cares about him that much. She just cares about other people in general.

“I mean, what do I have keeping me here?” he asks, voicing the existential question that’s been echoing in his mind since his dad died. “My mom is gone. My dad is even more permanently gone. I’m like a prime candidate for jumping, aren’t I? They’ll pay me enough that I’ll be able to go to university in the future and everything. If I stay here I’ll be stuck working for Tall Boy the rest of my life.”

“That’s not… necessarily true,” she says awkwardly. She’d been lucky enough to be born into a much higher ranking family. She has no idea what it’s like to be in servitude.

“Betty.” He sighs and puts a hand on her shoulder. “This is my best chance to make a decent life for myself. If I-“

“If you survive whatever suicide mission they’re sending you on!” she angrily cuts him off.

His eyes dart around the Wyrm to gauge if anyone’s heard her, but the din of the bar seems to be providing adequate cover.

“Where are you going? What year are you going to? What are they sending you to do? When do you leave?” she asks rapid fire.

“You know they won’t tell me any of that ahead of time.”

“So, you’re just going to, what, leave us all here without a second thought? You know once you jump they won’t let you come back. We’ll never see you again.” She crosses her arms tightly as tears brim in her eyes. “It’ll be like you’re dead. You will be dead. You won’t exist here anymore.”

“I know,” he says softly.

Betty is the only person he’ll really miss when he’s gone. Maybe Archie a little bit. But, mostly just her. He’d already thought about how he’ll be able to look up her public records to see who she marries and when she dies and all that. He knows it’s probably a bad idea. He figures he’s just masochistic enough that he’ll through with it at some point.

“But, you’re going to go live your life without me anyway,” he reminds her. “You’ll finish school, get a position in the Battalion, marry some other established Northsider. It’s not like you’ll be hanging around here the rest of your life.”

She looks surprised for a moment, opening and closing her mouth again. “Jughead,” she finally says with a shake of her head. “You are so stupid.”

“What?” he asks, confused.

She looks at him for another beat before leaning in to press her lips against his. He freezes in surprise and she pulls back before he can react.

“You are so very, very stupid.” Her tears finally fall as she turns and leaves.

His mind is reeling as he thinks about his blood signed contract sitting on Hiram Lodge’s desk and realizes she’s right.

—-

A little dribble drabble for week 2 of @riverdalepromptathon.

[soyforramen]

Whoops, I slipped into a follow up of this prompt.

--

“How’s the wrist?”

Such an innocuous question. It rings flat in the sharp crags that line the chasm between them, echoing hollowly between them. But it’s still more than he’d said Saturday night. More than he thought he’d say.

Betty, never one to let any pain shine through, smiles at him. Her face morphs into that perfect Cooper mask, no crack or wrinkle to suggest anything was out of the ordinary. It pierces his soul to realize that he doesn’t know how to read her anymore.

To him, she looks just as happy and carefree as the first day they’d met in third grade.

“Still sore, but no lasting damage,” she says, rolling her wrist as proof. Even her voice is peppy and varnished to perfection. “How’s your head?”

His hand moves without thought to his forehead, his fingertips grazing the ugly red mess. Jughead jerks his head to the right, a move practiced in the mirror this morning to ensure his hair covered the welt.

“Nothing an aspirin can’t take care of,” he mutters.

He raises his coffee cup to his lips to keep from mentioning the whisky and rye he’d fallen headfirst into, a palliative cure after she’d disappeared up the stairs, leaving nothing but confusion and nadir in her wake. The lingering hangover was still a symphony of banging pots and pans along his temples, a never-ending reminder of his regret (relief?) of doing nothing.

They sip their coffee in silence, waiting for the meeting to begin. The artificial bridge he’d thrown across the chasm between them frays, its tethers loosening. In less than a minute, it’s fallen into the yawning black hole that now lies between them.

Betty's words… no. Not that. It was his inaction. His confusion. His uncertainty that created this false rift between them. The gravity of it tugging and pulling at every second between them, every atom, every conceivable future between them, each a warped, stretched snapshot of a future never to be.

It was enough to make him want to crawl back into the bottle and never come out again. His hand shakes, an aftereffect of the late night drinking, and he shoves it deep into his pocket. Betty’s eyebrows draw too close together, too close to concern for his tastes.

Toni claps her hands together, and Betty shoots him one last curious look. He refuses to look at her, turning to refill his mug. When he turns back around, Betty is in her usual seat next to Archie, a plastic smile on her face. Jughead slouches against the counter, too lost in his own morbid thoughts to pay much attention to the upcoming game to notice the increasingly concerned glances Betty sends his way.

Jughead watches as his students shuffle in, the twins he affectionately calls Bill and Ted the only two showing any trace of life. The bell rings, a clanging, offensive noise that makes everyone wince. It’s doubtful he’s the only one nursing a hangover.

“How many of you did the reading?” he asks when they settle in.

A collective groan ripples throughout the room. He can’t blame them; he’d never been able to finish The Odyssey in high school either.

“Pop quiz time,” he says.

Another groan, this time with a rousing argument against it, echoes through his already pounding head. Jughead holds his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

“I want you to write about betrayal.”

The class quiets, some exchanging glances. It’s a sharp turn, a quick 180 that throws all off them off balance. Jughead has been ruthless so far, both in his grading and in his push to get them to learn critical thinking skills. Even he’s surprised at this course of action.

“Any kind of betrayal you can think of. You can talk about personal betrayal, family betrayal. Maybe one of your friends kissed your girlfriend, or maybe your mother chose your sister’s side over yours. Or maybe you write about a fictional betrayal. Hamlet and Ophelia, Brutus and Julius Caesar, Edward Pensieve and the Turkish delight.”

Wynnie’s hand shoots up, and Jughead inwardly winces. She’s always been the one to push back against any assignment, the one who questions everything he expects from them and makes class ten times longer.

“Can we write about a made up betrayal? With characters on, like, TV or something?”

Breathing a sigh of relief, he nods. “Anything is fair game, as long as you write it in a way that someone not familiar with the show, or book, or whatever, can understand what’s going on.”

“What about poetry?” another student asks.

“So long as you put the effort in, poetry is fine. Text threads, short stories, poems, letters, anything written.”

“Can we work together?” one of the twins asks.

“Sure, as long as you don’t bother the other students,” Jughead says with a shrug.

Bill and Ted high five before dragging their desks together.

Jughead is surprised at how well they’re taking this assignment. Every last thing has been a fight with them, from getting their attention to taking a test. Betrayal, though, seems to be something everyone can relate to.

As the class begins to write, Jughead sits down at his own desk. For a moment, he watches his students, kids in the same position he was once in, and wonders why he’s even here. Riverdale offered him little more than characters he could mold into his own, a setting for the decline of small town America.

Today, though, his mind wanders along words and phrases, glimpses into a different sort of reality. One ravaged by decay and rot, left to perish alone. And yet, he can’t help but see the small, green shoots of the future poke out of the ashes, tiny hints of hope for what’s to come. Perhaps nothing is ever static and unchanging. Perhaps things can turn around.

Jughead reaches into his bag for his own blank notebook.

He’s sitting on the porch that afternoon, struggling with the illegibly written translation. It’s a shame the state requires them to teach only the recommended books; Jughead would love to see how the story unfolds when thrown onto a fire.

“Hey.”

Jughead starts. When he sees it’s only Betty (only?), he stands abruptly, his entire body on fire, his legs jittery and ready to run.

“Hey,” he repeats. “Archie’s not here, but –“

Betty shakes her head and shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Can we talk?”

He swallows. Stupid of him to think he’d get away from this conversation. Jughead waves to the chair next to him. As Betty passes, her perfume tickles his nose. Long gone is the strawberry body spray she used in high school, a sweet, cloying smell. Now it’s a perfume, one that tickles his nose and clogs his sinuses.

They sit there quietly, neither willing to speak first. He’s lost for words, unable to start.

She sits patiently, calmly. Betty seems as if she hasn’t a care in the world, as if they were there to talk about the weather. Part of her training, he realizes. She’s no longer as impulsive as she once was, reaching and grasping and desperate for an immediate answer. This Betty Cooper is a reminder of the past, but only that.

“I’m sorry,” he manages, starting with the simplest of things.

Next to him, Betty shifts. He thinks he hears her sniffle (crying? allergies? derision at his lame start?), and he has to quash his immediately reaction. All he wants to do is reach out to her, to comfort her, to promise her the world to keep her from suffering.

But he’d done that before, long ago, in a completely different world. And he’d been trod upon, brushed aside in favor of her own cruel form of betrayal. Nothing he could have done after would have fixed the wound she’d carved in his soul. Even now, seven years distanced from the teenage woes, it lay between them, still raw and sore and bleeding from the continued betrayals of his life.

He wonders how he would have responded to her if he hadn’t known. If he hadn’t come home one night early to hear her and Archie upstairs. If he hadn’t turned to the Wyrm and listened to Sweet Peas acidic sniping just to get lost among the agave pinas and the juniper berries.

“It’s not,” he stutters, trying to find his footing, unsure of what he wants to say. “I couldn’t stop loving the Betty Cooper I knew. But I also never stopped hating what she did to me.”

The admission is the first emotionally honest thing he’s said in years. It’s painful to realize how deep it lay inside him, how long it took to finally cut out this festering, putrid thing that burrowed into him. Like a tumor, it could only grow, fed by hate and anger and depression. Hate and anger for both of them. It hadn’t turned out like it was supposed to.

Now that it lay out in the open between them, he felt different. Heavier, in some ways. But there was also a release. The pressure that had been building for so long was slowly lowering, as if he’d finally found the valve that would bring things back to normal.

“And I don’t know you,” he said, the words pouring out now. “Seven years, and only a handful of texts, a few voicemails. You’re not the person I remember. Hell, everyone is different from who they were, who I thought they were.”

He pauses to run a hand through his hair. He can feel Betty’s bright eyes staring at him, pleading with him for something, anything, that will make this better.

“We’re both different now, and there’s no way you can still love me. You don’t know me, you know who I was. We can’t just pick up where we left off, even if we wanted to. There’s too much between… Even if we were stupid enough to try,” he trails off, his words meandering as they try to find footing in the rocky space between them.

“We didn’t leave things in a good place,” Betty murmurs in agreement.

She shifts, and he looks at her for the first time since they sat down. Her legs are tucked up against her body, arms wrapped around them. It’s a protective stance. Against him, perhaps, or against the bare truth that he’s put in the open. He can’t blame her, not since he’s protected himself against most of his own life in other, less healthy ways.

Jughead sighs, empty of anything else to say. He stares at the fading light glowing through the leaves. It’s the perfect, picturesque scene of two high school sweethearts reuniting. At least, it was supposed to be. He didn’t know if he ever could do that to himself again.

Archie’s old truck chugs up the street, and Jughead stands. He scrapes the palms of his free hand along his pants, the other hand gripping his book. Archie waves through the windshield with a bright grin, and Jughead gives a half-hearted wave back before going inside.

He’s exhausted; after being mad for so long, it’s strange to be so empty of feeling. He’d give the world to be able to retreat back to Alphabet City and it’s various loan sharks. There, at least, he’d know the pain was no one’s fault but his own.

Jughead closes the bedroom door behind him, shutting out the rest of the world. It wasn’t his business what Betty did despite her attempts to bring him back into her life. He didn’t know if he was ready for that, or if he’d ever be. Ever since he’d been back, her presence gnaws at him, chipping away at the walls he’d built up over the years against her presence, and it frightens him that she’s stepped back into his thoughts so quickly and easily.

Thoughts and ideas collide and churn violently in his head. He throws himself down on his bed, determined to fall asleep despite the chaos.

But this time, sleep doesn’t come as easily as it always has. Words and feelings and phrases splatter against the back of his eyelids, graffiti tattooing images of a world never known. He pushes back against the cacophony until he can stand it no longer. Desperate to empty his thoughts, Jughead turns on the bedside lamp, pulls his laptop out from under the bed, and begins to write more than he’s been able to for years.

[ninjastormhawkkat]

At the headquarters of the Agency, Margret was looking over the data Victor had quickly sent her about the Warden over the Max Security prison. Suddenly her assistant popped in looking very frantic. “I’m sorry to bother you Miss Fuller but you need to see this.” Margret was a bit taken aback by the young man’s frantic tone but she willingly got up from her desk and followed the assistant to the break room where the televisions was. A lot of workers were gathered around it but began parting when they saw their boss, allowing her to come through to see what the fuss was about. When Margret saw what was playing on the news, her face became grim. “Get me agent Cutter on the phone now!” She commanded. Her assistant nodded and scrambled to get in contact with Victor. Margret then turned to one of the Agency workers. “Get the tech team to begin scrambling and blocking that news report from spreading world wide. We don’t need a mass panic on our hands.” The worker saluted the woman and ran off in another direction. Margret pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. Things have taken a turn for the worse now. The door to the main entrance of the Fair City research labs burst opened as Jenkins and the rest of the chaotic four followed by Alan burst out. The group raced as a collective twoards their cars to quickly get to Dr. Two Brains house. Both Jenkins and Patricia had engaged and furious looks on their faces. Archie was angry but also worried about the reaction of his good friends. Hugh’s face was full of worry and concern for his friends as well. Alan’s face remained stoic, yet deep down he was greatly distressed. They all saw the news broadcast, none of them were pleased with what they witnessed. Emily’s face held barely contained anger as she watched the news broadcast from her office. She was going to make some significant budget cuts and changes to the Fair City news team after this. ‘I wonder if I can have Scoops and Rose run it. They would at least be more trustworthy than the regular anchors. They know how to keep a secret.’ Emily thought bitterly. Back at Dr. Two Brains home, the entire group stared in shock at what was being displayed on the station. The male newscaster looked serious and grim as he made the announcement. “Hello. If you are tuning in right now then you are about to witness some horrifying breaking news. This just in Matthew Dunner aka Maddrix the Malicious has broken out of his Max Security Imprisonment and is here somewhere in Fair City. We have information that he was originally transferred to a place called B.E.A.W labs where he was held there as scientists attempted to remove his power in order to prevent the hero killer form attempting any more escapes from his cell. He was aided by his alleged ex husband Professor Carl Woods who faked his death to cover up his work in illegal and unethical cloning. It is reported by a reliable source that Carl Woods kidnapped his nephew in the process. They both went to the B.E.A.W. labs under fake names. It is believed Carl Woods was corrupted by Maddrix and Professor Woods went to B.E.A.W labs to help his lover escape. During Woods’ time there he also kidnapped a young girl and her pet opossum and secretly performed horrific experiments on the two. Carl Woods was soon found out, but he escaped along with Maddrix, the girl, the opossum, and his nephew who had developed Stockholm Syndrome while under his uncle’s deranged control. Mr. Woods killed an innocent man during his escape and set fire to the rest of the labs causing a massive explosion. People are advised that Matthew Dunner and Carl Woods are traveling together and are very dangerous. If you spot them please call your local authorities and do not approach them. That is all.” Somewhere in the town of Newport, four heroes were watching the broadcast that was playing from Fair City. @dualnaturedscientist

Everyone was exhausted from the eventful day. Dr.Two-Brains had put the mice pups on a makeshift little bed for them to sleep on. They seemed to have grown attached to both Becky and the mad scientist in the short amount of time they were taking care of them. When they put the mice pups down they squeaked to be picked up again. When they finally fell asleep, full from their dinner, Becky and Dr.Two-Brains quietly left. Though Becky didn't want to leave the pinkies alone. The villain spoke softly. "They will be okay there. I promise. Let's be quiet and let them sleep." Becky stared at her father for a moment. She had a thoughtful expression, following after him. Dr.Two-Brains had put his kid to bed. Once she was tucked in. Bob too. He kissed her forehead goodnight. "Goodnight my little ray of hope. Rest well. I'll never let anyone hurt you anymore. I promise. You'll be safe from now on. I'll never let you out of my sight again." He mumbled this, his eyelids feeling so heavy now. He drifted off to sleep, head on the bed. Becky untucked herself and made herself comfortable near her dad. Bob made himself comfortable as well on the opposite side. Both of them curled up next to him. The others had already left for their own home. Leaving Carl, Steven and Matthew with them. Carl and Steven had been taken to the spare rooms while Matthew had only the couch to sleep on. If he was going to be honest it was still much better than the poor excuse of a bed they forced him to sleep on during his time in Maximum prison. The facility where he was transferred was so much worse. He was going to take what they gave. As his son in law wished, he was on his best behavior. It would stay that way until they didn't need him anymore. The truth was, he wants his kids to be happy. Just like any other parent would. Once he was of no use anymore, he will make sure they never see him again. He'll be far away. Just like they wanted. Despite what happened, Gene was still his favorite. He was so proud that his son turned out to be so brilliant, kind from what he saw. He was still all that despite the mouse brain. His son was strong. Maybe even more than him. He gave in, Dr.Two-Brains didn't give into it for the sake of his daughter. Matthew finally allowed himself to drift to sleep.

The next morning, Matthew was woken up by his son cooking breakfast for everyone. Well everyone but him. He assumed that Gene would want to feed the man he hates. Matthew felt guilt. Over hurting his son like that. Everyone else woke up soon, gathering around the table. Once it was set up, everyone helped themself to the delicious and cheesy meal. Matthew stayed in the living room though. Becky glanced over at him, puzzled why he wasn't joining them. Dr.Two-Brains felt his insides twist. As much as he hates Matthew he couldn't let his little girl panic like that. If he's staying here, he must eat as well. He spoke in a less than enthused tone. "You want your plate over there or are you going to join us?" Matthew blinked owlishly. He saw that the table seemed a bit crowded and he doubted they wanted him to sit with them. "I'll fix up my plate and eat on the couch. Thank you." There was no sarcasm in his tone. He was genuinely thanking his son. After they ate, Matthew and Dr.Two-Brains were alone in the living room. It was tense. Matthew wasn't looking at his son, not wanting to make the situation worse. He didn't see the expression Dr.Two-Brains was wearing. Grim. He wanted answers. He was finally able to ask this question he had been dying to ask for years. "Why did you do it? Why did you massacre all those heroes? Rebecca?" Two-Brains found himself even more emotional, bringing up his late best friend. There was anger in his eyes. Sadness. Hurt. Matthew only felt guilty when it came to his family. He hated seeing them hurt. A thought he always had. If he hadn't massacred the heroes, maybe he could've done something to prevent Carl and Steven from being kidnapped. Prevent Gene from going through all that. "You wish to know? I'll tell you. Just a heads up. I'm telling you why and it's not an excuse for what I did. I'm simply telling you what happened." Matthew paused for a second, frowning at the memory. "A good man died so many years ago. Not one hero shed a tear for someone whose intentions were good. Despite his less than legal ways of achieving his goals, he was on their side. They never saw it that way. It didn't affect him in the least. He still fought for what was good. They said horrible things about him. Yet he never retaliated. Never spoke against them in anger. My uncle. He hated this vigilante just as much. Hated that he was teaching me just as much. I didn't realize it at the time but this vigilante was more of a hero than the others were. Not one of them, including my uncle, mourned for him. They never even mentioned his passing once. The one who killed him, he wasn't going to stop. I had to make him stop. The anger I felt. I wiped him out. With his goons. They didn't care how many lives were lost. That added so much fuel to my hatred of heroes. So much so. It blinded me. Making me no better. I became the malicious monster that my uncle said I was. The rage grew in me. He disowned me. So did my mother. When the rage grew, I only had one thought. One goal. I was unfortunately blinded by this. Not seeing the damage I've done after I executed my plan. All of my rage was released. I don't remember killing most of them. But I know I did. I truly love you and your siblings. Your father, I never stopped loving him. Yet my hatred was stronger. I gave into it. I know this is the consequence of my actions and I accept it. If you wish to get revenge, I won't fight back. Do as you please. I'm truly sorry. I know it doesn't mean anything to you since it's from me. But my apology is genuine. I am sorry. I don't expect forgiveness. But I thought you deserved an apology."

Dr. Two Brains sat stunned at Maddrix's explanation. He had no idea Matthew used to be a hero. None of them did. He didn't know how to react to his apology either. It was a little too late to say sorry. Yet on the other hand, Two Brains could tell he was being serious and genuine. Maddrix's explanation though, it opened up more questions for him as he reflected on his past before the massacre, analyzing Matthew's actions and comparing it to what he knows now. "Is that why you raised me to be a villain? So I wouldn't end up like the heroes you hated so much?" Two Brains asked. Matthew shook his head. "I had that hatred festering, but it wasn't the main reason I raised you to be a villain. I genuinely saw the natural spark and flare you had for villainy at an early age. When you acted sweet and innocent as a cover to get what you want or to get away with biting people that made you mad." Matthew paused a bit as he chuckled a little at the memories. "I honestly lost count of how many people you bit." Two Brains couldn't help but smirk at that. "It was the only way I could get back at those who made me upset. Neither you nor dad would let me gain access to tech until I was 13." Two Brains quipped. Matthew nodded with a bittersweet smile. "True. We were both slightly afraid what you mind would do if we gave you access to tools and tech before you were mature enough to use them." Matthew then frowned. "The true reason was I didn't want you to end up like me. I had a lot of anger and aggression issues when I was growing up. I don't exactly know where they came from. I just know that my uncle nor my mother never gave me the help I needed. My uncle saw me nothing more than a weapon that made him look good until I didn't. My mother was a spineless fool who went along with anything my uncle told her. I wanted to help channel your villainous impulses into something productive. I wanted to give you the helping guidance I never got. Even after you got me arrested. I was miffed yeah but I was never truly mad at you. I'm proud of the person you grown up into. Not because of the villain part. It's because you have a lot more control over your priorities and better restraints over your impulses than I ever did." "So that's why you told dad you were an orphan." Two Brains muttered as he processed what Matthew told him. Maddrix just shrugged. "Well your biological grandfather walked out when I was a toddler and the only true parental figure I had died when I was teenager. It was easier to say I was an orphan than to go into the nitty gritty." Dr. Two Brains leveled Matthew a hardened look. "You kept a lot of secrets from dad, including the part about you and me being villains. I remember you said it was best that no one else in our family knew the truth about our villain work. Even though they wouldn't be bothered about it, you still didn't want them to know. Why was that? Were you afraid of them getting hurt if they knew?" Dr. Two Brains interrogated. Matthew's expression became pale before he turned his gaze away Dr. Two Brains looked at the man with annoyance and confusion for not answering his question in a rude manner. A thought then struck his head. That evasive and somewhat rude reaction. He knew it all too well. "You were afraid dad would hate your for being a villain and kick you out like your mom and uncle did. That was why?" Two Brains muttered quietly. Maddrix didn't reply. He didn't have too. Dr. Two Brains could see clear as day the prickling tears the villain was trying to blink away. Two Brains gave a bitter chuckle. "I guess I did take more after you than I realized." Two Brains mumbled. Both he and Matthew never wanted their loved ones to see the true them, consumed by their fear of being hated and alone by those they cared the most. The difference here, while Two Brains found a better way to cope with his fears and learn to be more open to others, Matthew didn't. @dualnaturedscientist

[thedragonemperess]

I Saved Your Life! - Superhero Kaz/Bionic Chase AU

Fandom(s): Lab Rats/Mighty Med

Pairing(s): Kase/Chaz

Rating: G

Warnings: Slight language

Tags: @starspangleddummy @tronagon

Notes: Based off of these two posts by @starspangleddummy

       “That was a great job, guys,” Chase said to his team as they exited the hydro-loop, dropping a duffel bag with supplies.

       They had just gotten back from a mission. Another one of Mr. Davenport’s devices had become unstable and they were sent in to fix it. Specifically, Davenport Industries was messing with a new form of renewable energy, but they overdid it. The workers had to be rushed out, but some of them were blocked in, not to mention the fact that the device handling it was gaining more energy each second, getting ready to explode if nothing was done. After rescuing everyone, they rushed to the main location of the warehouse and found some more people hiding. Amy and Micheal (who could lace their bodies in metal) took the remaining three scientists and hid them in front of them, while Teresa used her force fields to surround the area. Chase used his molecular kinesis to push it through the roof and into the water nearby, so that it wouldn’t cause as much damage.

       “Thanks, Chase, but we owe it to our Mission Leader,” Teresa said, playfully punching him in the shoulder.

       Chase shook his head. “As nice as that compliment is, you were the one that came up with how to contain the energy and Micheal and Amy’s quick thinking protected the people working there. I may have got us in, but you guys deserve just as much credit as I do.”

       “Yeah, what he said. Now can we please go to our capsules? I would really like to shower after all of this,” Micheal asked.

       “Yeah, that would be nice. Then hopefully we could relax a bit. I mean, we’ve had missions all week,” Amy added

       Chase nodded at them. “Go ahead. I need to talk to Mr. Davenport real quick, but I’ll be close behind.”

The others nodded at him in return before jogging down the hall.

       Chase watched them until they were out of ear shot, and then walked over to the cyber desk in order to call Donald, who was at home with Tasha and Naomi at the moment. He was about to press call when another mission alert came up. He quickly dismissed the alarm and read into it.

Super villain by the name of Professor Slime running rampant in Philadelphia. Urgent.

       Chase weighed his options. He could take his team with him, who is in desperate need of a break, or go alone and fight some guy with a very terrible code name. He laughed to himself at it. Anyone with that silly of a name must be fake news. He came to the conclusion that it was either a false alarm or the people in the area were overreacting.

       He heard footsteps coming from behind him. He turned around to find his team on their way over.

       “What was the mission alert for?” Teresa asked, exhausted.

       “Oh, it was nothing. It was a false alarm. Someone must have still had a business card from when Leo started advertising us. It was just some cat stuck in a tree. I called the fire department for her, it’s nothing to worry about,” Chase lied, brushing off any concern they might have had.

The others gave a small cheer.

       “Yessss! I can finally finish reading my book then!”

       “You do that, I’m going to sleep.”

       “If you need me, I’ll be out on the beach.”

       Once they turned around, Chase looked back to the cyber desk and hit one of the buttons, saying that someone’s on the way. He runs back to the hydra loop, grabbing the duffel bag on his way. He sits down and looks through it, grabbing a teleporter that he and Douglas had made a year ago. The doors close and he zips back to the mainland. He puts in the coordinates, and as soon as he exits the hydro-loop again, he disappears.

_____________________________________________

Chase flew into the concrete wall, sliding to the floor. Professor Slime walked up to him slowly.

       “The fact that you ever thought you could defeat me is amusing, and then the fact that you actually tried is even more so, but sadly, I’m going to have to kill you now,” he proclaimed. He raised a ray gun and aimed it at Chase, looking down on him.

       “Not on my watch!!” a new voice came from the side. Chase looked over slightly, seeing a blur of orange, black, and brown fly by, tackling Professor Slime.

       The blur was on top of him, holding him down to the road. “Hey! I got him! I actually got him!”

       “Why don’t you try again?” Professor Slime exhorted, dissolving into slime and slithering away.

       “What the hell--?”

       Professor Slime morphed back into a human behind him, and kicked the blur down to the ground.

       “I guess I’m going to have to kill you too, then!”

       The gun powered up, but a blast of ice knocked it out of his hand, its ray hitting a mailbox while being thrown against the wall by Chase. Professor Slime looked over to the person that owned the cryo blast with a scowl.

       “Who are you people, and where are you coming from?!”

       The other boy moved his hands to his hips and looked off into the distance, attempting to look heroic.

       “The name’s Cold Front, and what you’re doing, isn’t very ice.”

       “Really dude?” the blur asked?

       Cold Front looked at him and back at Professor Slime, changing his pose to a fighting stance, his expression changing to a more serious one.

       “Come at me, Archie.”

      Professor Slime, or Archie, ran at Cold Front, who was barely just barely able to dodge him. Professor Slime stretched his arm, and grabbed him, lifting him up. The blur shot a blast of fire at his arm, melting the slime off of him. Cold Front dropped to the floor, falling forward onto his knees. Professor slime ran to the parts of him that melted off and tried to gather it back into his body.

       “Cold Front! Blast him! Now!”

       Cold Front did a double take, but reached his left arm out and blasted him, getting up as he did so. Professor Slime’s form slowly froze, until he was completely covered in ice. Once done, Cold Front turned to the blur and put his hand in the air.

       “Up top, Pyre!”

       The blur, now known as Pyre, high-fived him. “Heck yeah, buddy!”

       Chase looked over to the ray gun, still next to him, and grabbed, weakly pointing it at the two of them. “Who-who are you?! And how were you able to….well, that!” he gestured to Professor Slime, whose frozen body was hunched over on the floor.

Pyre walked up to him and stuck out his hand. “Dude, relax, we’re just here to help.”

       Chase shook his head frantically. “But what you just did was impossible! Are you bionic? Are….are you alien? Are you one of those superheroes? Even if you were any of those, what you just did goes against all laws of science! Am I dreaming? What just happened? For real?”

       Pyre rolled his eyes. “You got your ass handed to you. I saved your life!” A loud coughing noise came from behind him, making Pyre roll his eyes again. “Okay, we saved your life.”

       Chase finally looked up at Pyre and froze. “Oh god he’s cute. What do I say, now? Do boys like confidence? Yeah, be confident!” he thought to himself.

       “Well, I didn’t need your help.”

       “Not that confident!”

       “Sorry for trying to help someone in trouble, then. Jeez,” Pyre stated, retracting his hands and turning around to head to Cold Front.

       Chase panicked. “Wait!” He pushed himself up, leaning back against the wall.

       Pyre turned back around. “What is it? I thought you didn’t need our help, and we got other things to do.”

       “I, uh,...look. What I said came out wrong. I just panicked. Thank you, Pyre, was it?”

       “Yeah, Pyre. And no problem.” He started to turn again, but Chase stopped him.

       “Wait! Again. Sorry, but can I keep this? To study? I don’t know if you know who I am, but, uh, I’m Chase Davenport.”

       Pyre’s face seemed to light up in awe and realization. “Oh! Yeah, sure! Umm, we’ve met before! At the island. Remember the whole thing with the Incapacitator? I was the better looking Frank.”

       (“Hey! I can hear you, y’know!”)

      “But if that was you, how were you able to do all of,” Chase gestures to Professor Slime, again, “that?”

       “It’s a long story that I will make sure to tell you some other time. But I have to go bring Archie, over there, to jail. So keep the ray gun, erase anyone who saw me and Cold Front’s memory, and I’ll see you around.” Pyre turned around completely, and jogged over to Cold Front.

       “Ready?”

       “Ready.”

       “Wait, wha--”

       Chase was cut off with a flash of light. When he looked over to where Pyre, Cold Front, and Professor Slime once were, there was nothing. He looked around him to see if they were anywhere close by, but when they were nowhere to be seen, he scanned the area for his duffel bag. After locating it, he walked over to it and took out the Neural Scrambler. Doing what he was asked too, he talked to anyone who saw the battle and erased their memory of it, just as confused as they were.

[troublesometrollhunters]

Masked Meetings

(Another Douxie X Reader because favorite boi and also I want to go to a fancy Masquerade Ballroom dance while someone tenderly cups my cheek)

Hisirdoux is sweeping Merlins study while the wizards out when his thoughts wonder to you. As he clutches the broom brushing the dust into a nearby dustpan he smiles softly.

Every time he saw you his heart soared. Your voice was like a sweet melody and if he could play as sweetly as you spoke his music would be known throughout the kingdom. Sighing trying to get back to work he pauses. The sunlight leaked through Merlins glass paned windows making the stone floor a kaleidoscope of colors. Your smile was similar to these colors he mused, they lit up a room. Blushing and shaking his head he closes his eyes but it didn't help. Hisirdoux could see you so clearly dancing through the castles hallways fabric swishing around you as you twirled over the carpet.

Eyes snapping open in shame blinking repeatedly to wish the image away he puts the broom against the wall deciding he's done for the day.

Running his hand over one of Merlins desks he tries to think of anything else other than you. Picking up books off the ground putting them back in their places on the shelves or stacking them on tables so they'd be out of the way, Hisirdoux pauses when he sees a scroll. Humming intrigued he ran a finger over it before the ink glowed. Merlin was working on something new and he hoped some magic homework would make him get his mind off you. After all it was absolutely ridiculous to fantasize about you. It could never happen.

You were a noble who lived in the castle after a tragic accident. It was rumored you had magic in your blood line but nothing had been confirmed. He wouldn't doubt it though. He fell under a spell every time he saw you.

You were Arthur and Morganas neice and had been moved here after your castle was lost to war. Depsite the tradegy you seemed perfectly content with your new life here. He'd often seen you laughing over a joke with Morgana or talking idly with King Arthur. Realizing his attention had wondered from the scroll he cursed trying to get back to work. Noticing his hands were covered in ink he paused seeing he'd doodled all over Merlins notes. Panicking he picks up the scroll and marches across the room before throwing it into the fire place.

Watching as the orange flames burn the paper and seeing the ink dribble down the page as the fire hissed he sighed in relief. He couldn't be in love with you. He couldn't.

~~~

The next day Merlin hadn't noticed the missing parchment or at least he didn't comment on it. Archie had thankfully been out and hadn't seen what he'd done but the cat had been giving him strange looks all day.

Was it really that weird for him to complete all his chores? He didn't think so.

"The room looks nice Hisirdoux." Merlin states and he beamed taking in the attention and compliment from his master. However it's short lived. Merlin turns towards the young mage with a thoughtful glance. "King Arthurs hosting a ball." He says.

"O-oh?" Hisirdoux stutters. If there was a ball no doubt you'd be there as well. After all Arthur was your uncle, as a noble it'd be your duty to attend. Merlin gave Hisirdoux a knowing glance before shaking his head turning towards his scrolls.

"You should invite someone." He hums. "Arthur permitted us to go. If you have a friend you should attend with them." Leaving the room after that Merlin slips Douxie a piece of parchment. It was an invitation but only one.

Looking at his master confused he noticed in Merlins hand were the notes that he had burned. Face red he began to stutter wanting to explain himself but Merlin was already gone. All that was left was the single invitation in his hand.

Archie hummed hopping onto the desk next to Hisirdoux as he stared at the fancy paper.

"I beleive that's Merlins subtle way of saying you should ask them. After all they already have a ticket." Archie hums. Hisirdoux nods absent mindley tightening his grip on the invitation. A masquerade ball, masks meant no one would know who they were. That meant he could ask you out and then spend all night with you without anyones judgment.

How hard could this be?

~~~

He chickened out. He chickened out. By Merlins beard he made a complete ass of himself and left before you could get mad at him.

He had gotten flowers! He had made a poem! He even brought his lute to sernade you! How did it all go so wrong?

He was so nervous his magic made the flowers rot when he tried to hand them to you. You didn't seem angry but you were very confused holding the stalks. And he made it so much worse! When you went to ask what happened as any sane person would do he began to blubber nonsense like a fool. He practically spoke in tongues! Then he had spent hours on that poem for you only to look like an idiot and scramble all the words up. It was just such a mess. Not to mention when he brought out his lute to try and fix his previous attempts his hands were shaking so much it was off tune.

He decided to stop dragging the torture on and ran off not wanting to see your reaction.

Archie followed after him and as Hisirdoux stopped to take deep breaths his familiar nuzzled him. He purred softly against his masters neck as Hisirdoux held his lute. As his thumb brushed over the wood engraved into the instrument he sighed. His hand went in his pocket and reading the poem he'd written you he closes his eyes to keep from crying.

Radiant as the sun, mysterious as the moon, and strong as the stars is what he'd called it. You were just so many things he couldn't pick one so he gave you the sky hoping maybe just maybe that'd be enough to win your love.

"Hisirdoux they would have loved it. It's not your fault." Archie tries to make him feel better but Hisirdoux only did this to himself. He should have known courting you would only end in failure. After all Arthur loved you. And he hated magic. Hisirdoux was only alive because Merlin saved him. He was a street rat. A lowly orphan. He had nothing to offer you.

Crumpling the poem into a ball he signed throwing it down the hallway.

"Come on Arch we better get ready." He mumbled disappointed. He may have failed to ask you but Merlin still expected him to attend and he couldn't fail Merlin too.

~~~

Hisirdoux looks into his wine glass frowning. The suit Merlin picked for him felt strange. It was so different from his usual garb and his reflection he couldn't recognize himself. The black suit with fur and blue undershirt underneath was strange. He wasn't used to this many layers. And the shoes. They were so uncomfortable.

Shifting he adjusts his mask, the blue feathers almost coming loose from his jostling.

Mask finally in a position he liked, he places the chalice down and glances around the room. You still hadn't made an entrance and he prayed Arthur hadn't set you up with somebody else. Feeling discouraged at the fact he couldn't ask you and you might come with some prick noble person Archie hums at him.

"Well at least they won't recognize you in a mask." The familiar states trying to lighten his masters mood.

"No funny Arch." Hisirdoux scolds as he keeps looking for you. "Besides I think the whole talking cat gives away who I am." Archie chuffs before adjusting his glasses. Hisirdoux was right of course but Archie was only teasing, no need for rudeness.

"Hisirdoux try to have fun tonight." The familiar suggests before jumping off the table and slinking off into the room. Sighing Hisirdoux watches him leave before looking to the floor again. You still hadn't arrived yet. He hoped as a masked stranger he could ask for one dance. One dance and he'd feel better about everything. But he had a feeling fate would be unkind tonight and he may not get his chance.

Hearing the music stop he pauses before turning his head. Gasps rang out from the crowd and meeting your eyes Hisirdoux joined them.

Oh. You looked like a deity.

As you descended the stairs with Morgana and Arthur he couldn't help but stare. You were brighter than the moon, the stars, and the sun. He would give you the entire world and even then he knew it'd never be enough. You deserved everything.

Lost in his thoughts about you inching closer to the ballroom floor his breath hitches as someone grabs his hand. About to protest and he's dragged into the endless sea of dancers and as masks, dresses, glitter, and gold twirl around him he looses sight of you.

Trying to get out of the dancers so he can make his way to the wall to try and find you again to try and explain he pauses when your suddenly in his arms.

Your mask gave away it was you and he grew nervous as your eyes looked into his.

"(Y-Y/N)?" He can't beleive it. How... How had this happened?

"Hello Hisirdoux." You greet and his entire face goes red as he spins with you. The orchestra music swells and he's in awe watching you dance.

"I ummmm I wanted..." Smiling at him you wink mischievously as he dips you.

"I know." You hum and he smiles. Of course you did.

"Lets go somewhere more private." You suggest as he blushes. Pulling you back up from the dip he nods and you two continue to dance but your slowly making your way to the edge.

~~~

When no ones looking you both slip away sneaking onto the balcony. The stars shine and the moons full lighting up the night.

Smiling you slip off your mask before tilting your head to stare up at the various stars, eyes wide in wonder.

"I never was one for dances and the like you know." You state feeling the serene light of the moon wash over you. "It's only fun when you chose to do something not when someone forces you to." You add.

Your hand grips the balconies terrace as you lean forward to feel the cold air. Hisirdoux stands next to you and slowly he takes off his mask as well showing off his handsome face. As you were passed from partner to partner you looked up and saw his hazel eyes.

It was a miracle since he was the only person you wanted to see anyways.

He nods understanding in a way. Fiddling in your pocket you pull out a crumpled piece of paper.

"You know I was hoping you'd ask me. When I suggested to Arthur Merlin and you should come it didn't take long for him to give in." You hum slowly uncrumpling the paper.

It was a poem. One addressed to you. The one he'd crumpled up and thrown away.

"I... I tried to ask you but..." Scratching the back of his neck and chuckling nervously you begin laughing.

"I had a feeling." You hum watching his face go bright red.

"He Hisirdoux?" You ask and he looks at you face burning.

"Hmmmmm?" He questions and you smile the privacy giving you bravery. Cupping his face you lean in heart fluttering as your lips press together.

Pulling away face pink as you stare at Hisirdoux he blinks several times before smiling. Leaning in he places his forehead against yours. One of his hands tenderly cradles your cheek as he smiles at you.

As you hum closing your eyes smiling, his heart flutters.

Your smile makes the night brighter than any stars ever could.

[emospritelet]

Manifesto - chapter 11

Last time, Sutherland offered Belle a drink in his office. Here's what happened next

[AO3]

-

Belle rolled her shoulders tiredly as she made her way back to her apartment. Her body was aching, as though she had been running for miles, and she wanted nothing more than to take a shower, put on her PJs and chill out. She stopped off for a bottle of wine, a bar of chocolate and a punnet of summer berries in the shop next to her apartment block, and ate a piece of chocolate as she rode the elevator upwards. It looked as though she would be dialling out for dinner. Perhaps a pizza.

Her phone buzzed as she entered the apartment, and she smiled as she saw Merida’s name flash up.

“Hey,” she said, tucking the phone between neck and shoulder as she put down the wine and searched for a glass.

“How’s it going?” Merida was almost shouting into the phone. There was background chatter and laughter and the clinking of glasses. “Did you hand Sutherland his arse yet?”

“We had a bit of a spat,” said Belle, twisting off the top of the wine bottle. “Just a minor one, though. Are you in the pub?”

“Yeah, me and Leroy came out for a sneaky pint or two.”

“Is everything okay at the library? I just got back to the apartment and I’m gasping for a drink, but I should really call Ariel.”

“She said to tell you everything’s fine,” said Merida. “Building still in one piece. Books safe and well.”

“Good.”

“Anyway, don’t change the subject! Tell me how the meeting went!”

“Oh, it was - well, it was exhausting, actually,” sighed Belle, pouring wine. “I’m not sure how much we actually achieved. Maybe I’ll know more tomorrow.”

“Did you give your presentation?”

“Yeah, that part went okay.” She took a sip of wine. “Some of the people there seemed convinced. Not the guy from the Treasury, but Sutherland says if it was up to him they’d never spend anything, so I’m not sure what I could have done to convince the man anyway.”

“And you left Sutherland in one piece?”

“Just about,” said Belle dryly, and hesitated. “I had a drink with him.”

There was a spluttering noise at the end of the phone, and Belle had a vision of Merida spraying Leroy with beer.

“What?” choked Merida. “You went for a drink with him?”

“It’s not like we went to the pub for pints and whisky chasers,” said Belle. “He had booze in his office. He offered me some. Brandy. Just a small one.”

“And - and what were you doing in his office?”

“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip. “I - uh - we were talking about the library. He’s released some grant money to local authorities. Should mean I can get some funding for the next year or two.”

“Well.” Merida sounded satisfied. “That was all his doing? What you said must have made an impression on him, then.”

“He says he just changed the eligibility, that’s all.”

“Was this before or after the drink?”

“Before, of course!”

“Even so,” said Merida. “Try shagging him, you might even get enough for a pay rise.”

“Oh my God…” Belle shook her head as Merida cackled. “On that note, I’m gonna finish this wine and take a shower.”

“Okay, but we want an update when you get back,” said Merida. “And hang in there, you’re doing brilliantly!”

“Thanks. Miss you guys.”

“You too.”

Belle hung up, taking another drink of wine and sighing loudly. She carried her glass over the couch, flopping onto it and letting her head roll back against the cushions. Merida’s teasing had had the unfortunate effect of firing up her imagination, and she wondered how many glasses of wine she would have to sink before she stopped having visions of the Prime Minister shoving her against the wall of his office and kissing her hard.

-

Sutherland had managed to get through the papers that Anna had left with him, and had scrawled notes in the margins indicating his preferred course of action from the suggestions given. He had a meeting scheduled with the US President at nine p.m., and a briefing paper had been set on his desk along with a cup of coffee, which was now cold. The door opening made him look up, and Anna breezed in, looking refreshed. He wished he felt the same.

“Oh, you’ve been through the papers,” she said, checking the folder on his desk. “Anything you wanted to talk through?”

“I don’t think so. Graham seems to have everything well in hand.”

“In that case I can give you these.” She slipped another folder out of her bag and dropped it on the desk. “Revised figures for the meeting tomorrow, along with a statement from Sir George about how we’re going to bankrupt the country if we agree to anything other than the status quo.”

Sutherland chuckled as he picked up the folder.

“I assume you’re exaggerating only slightly.”

“A tiny amount,” she allowed. “Today went well, I thought. Considering the competing interests.”

“And strong personalities,” he remarked.

“You always said a robust exchange of views makes for stronger policy.”

“As long as it doesn’t come to blows, yes,” he said, and it was her turn to chuckle.

“The lovely Miss French left you in one piece, then,” she observed, and he snorted.

“Just about.”

“I told her about the grant programme.”

“Yes, so she said.”

He thumbed through the papers once before realising he hadn’t taken in a single word, and hesitated before he spoke, feeling the smooth paper between thumb and forefinger.

“I had a drink with her,” he said, and Anna let out a tiny squeak of surprise.

“What, here?”

“No, we went to the bloody pub, what do you think?” he said impatiently. “Yes, here. She apologised, and - and I offered her a drink. Brandy. Just a small one.”

“Well.” Anna pursed her lips, a tiny smile lighting up her eyes. “Nice to see you two getting along.”

Sutherland grunted something.

“You did get along, I take it?” she pressed, and he sighed.

“We were very civil.”

“Civil is - something, I suppose.”

He made a non-committal noise at the back of his throat, pretending an interest in the papers, but he could feel Anna’s eyes on him, as though she knew he had more to say on the subject. Eventually he looked up.

“I told her about the divorce,” he said. “And - and about not wanting Ellie to work in Westminster, and why I got into politics in the first place. I was even honest about it. God knows why.”

“Hmm.” Anna pursed her lips. “Not like you to get personal with strangers.”

“I know.” He shook his head, turning back to the papers again. “She’s unsettling.”

“In what way?”

“In – I don’t know…” He waved a hand. “I’m not sure I understand it myself.”

“Did you decide this before or after the drink?”

“Oh, long before,” he said immediately. “Having a drink with her just made me – acutely aware of it.”

“Well, she’s only here tomorrow,” said Anna. “Are you going to the meeting? I managed to carve out two hours in your diary, but you don’t have to.”

He hesitated. No, he didn’t have to. No one would expect him to. He had more than enough things clamouring for his attention, after all.

“Perhaps it’s best that I don’t,” he said. “Ella can give the group a good enough steer, can’t she?”

“I’ll give her a call, let her know,” said Anna. “You sure this isn’t just because you’re scared of Miss French?”

“I am not scared of her,” he snapped, making her grin. “I just - I just have more pressing business than scoring points in a shouting match.”

“Speaking of, we have PMQs to prep for,” she said, and he groaned, slumping in his seat. “No rest for the wicked,” she added.

“Indeed,” he said wearily, running a hand over his face. “Alright. Let’s go through these papers, then talk PMQs, then I have to speak to Washington. And at some point I suppose I’d better get some sleep.”

“Optimism. I like it.”

He grinned, swatting her with the papers, and waited for her to pull her chair around to his side of the desk. It was best that he left the meeting to Ella, and concentrated on running the bloody country. There was certainly no reason for him to want to sit in a room with a bunch of people who couldn’t agree. He got enough of that in the Commons. A vision came to him: a pair of clear blue eyes flashing, the allure of a challenge, and he pushed the image away. Miss French was far too distracting.

-

Belle spent a restless night, disturbed by several unexpectedly erotic dreams that left her flustered and aching. She took a long shower to revive herself, and then went for a brisk walk to pick up coffee and a croissant, which she ate sitting on a bench overlooking a nearby park. It was still early, not quite seven-thirty, and she didn’t have to be at Downing Street until nine. One more day of fighting her corner and standing her ground, and she could return to Avonleigh with some small sense of achievement. The coffee was hot, and she removed the lid to help it cool enough to drink, hissing in vexation as she saw she had forgotten to add milk. The aroma was delicious, the coffee darkest brown, and she was reminded of Sutherland’s eyes watching her over his brandy glass, the tip of his tongue wetting his lips.

Shivering, she took a sip of the coffee, wincing as it scalded her tongue. A good thing the discussions would be ending that day. They would have further meetings, of course, but she had been assured that most of those would be held virtually. Time and distance would deal with her crush, and she could go back to running the library and having the odd disastrous date to remind herself why she was single. She just had to get through one more day.

-

Belle hadn’t expected to feel disappointed by Sutherland’s absence. She had told herself it was likely he wouldn’t be there; as Prime Minister he must have a hundred demands on his time that were more important than one policy. Anna was also absent, no doubt organising his day with her usual aplomb, and so it was left to Ella Deville-Waters to chair the meeting. There were more arguments about the scope of the policy, with Archie playing the role of peacemaker as Belle exchanged increasingly waspish comments with Sir George King.

By the time four o’clock arrived, she was ready to drop, and almost sighed in relief as Ella announced that they were done. She felt as though she had been wrestling live alligators all day, and rolled her shoulders as she shrugged on her jacket.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you, Belle,” said Archie, holding out his hand. “I suppose the next time we meet it’ll be online.”

“I guess so.” She shook Archie’s hand, ignoring Sir George’s baleful glare. “Thanks for the links to those papers you mentioned, I’ll be sure to read them.”

“Of course. Happy to talk through any questions you might have. You have my email.”

“I do.” Belle smiled at him. “Safe journey home.”

“You too.”

He smiled back, picking up his briefcase and heading for the door, and Belle shoved her papers in her bag, nodding to Ella. The sooner she got out of there, the sooner she could be home.

The air in the room had been dry, and consequently Belle was parched. She rummaged in her bag as she hurried along the corridor, fishing out a bottle of water that slipped from her fingers just as she reached the corner and bounced out of sight. She darted after it around the corner and squeaked as she collided with something warm and solid and smelling of expensive wood and warm cloves.

Sutherland had managed to keep himself busy enough that he hadn’t thought about Miss French more than perhaps half a dozen times. He had been pleased with himself, convinced that he would be able to put her from his mind completely once the day was over. That all changed at just after four p.m. as he walked from his office to the Cabinet Room. One moment he was talking over his shoulder to Anna, the next he found himself with his arms full of Belle French, her wide blue eyes staring at him and her lips parted in shock. She was pleasantly soft against his chest, her perfume drifting into his nose, but he barely had time to react before one of the Special Branch officers was there to peel her off him.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” she said breathlessly, upper arms held firmly from behind by the officer. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention!”

“That’s - that’s quite alright.” Sutherland nodded to the officer, who released Belle immediately. “I take it you’re on your way back to Avonleigh?”

“Yes,” she said automatically.

Her cheeks had begun to redden, agitation plain in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. It was painfully arousing. He kept his eyes on hers, his own heart thumping hard, and Belle licked her lips in a nervous gesture. Sutherland blinked rapidly.

“Well,” he said. “Encounters with you continue to be - bracing - Miss French. I wish you a pleasant journey. No doubt we’ll meet again.”

“I - yes. Thank you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut with a pained expression, then shook her head and stalked past him, shoulders stiff. Sutherland watched her go, short skirt wafting around her perfect legs.

“The Cabinet?” prompted Anna, and he shook his head, turning back to her.

“Yes,” he said. “Right. Yes.”

He fell into step beside her, his skin tingling from the unexpected pleasure of having Miss French in his arms. She had felt as though she belonged there and that – well, that was a dangerous path for his mind to take.

[days-light]

Zoe Appreciation Week Day 6: A Night Off

Zoe gets her night off, just not the one she was expecting. This was totally rushed, sorry - the idea hit me like a sledgehammer at the end of Day 5. It features my OC, Day (who uses she/they pronouns in the fic). They're an illusion wizard and I'll probably explain her backstory more later, but she lived in Arcadia for a while with Douxie and Zoe. Content Warnings: Mentions of food and injuries, nothing descriptive though Word Count: 1915

Zoe sighed as she flipped the “open” sign onto the “closed” side in the front door of Hex Tech. She’d already turned all the lights off, and the large front room was barely lit with the shine of residual magic. Today had felt as if it lasted forever - in fact, it was almost already midnight, according to the clock on the far wall.

Zoe had to remind herself that she loved her job - no one was forcing her to work extra hours, and she was getting paid pretty well for that work. On days like these, though, when the many customers were all trying to underpay for the huge amounts of magic they were requesting, and all of them thinking that they deserved better deals, it was hard to keep that in mind. At least she could look forward to a nice relaxing night alone.

She picked up her black studded-leather bag and quickly checked behind her desk to make sure she hadn’t left anything, when suddenly she heard a knock at the door.

“If that’s another person trying to purchase a hedge witch wand. . .” Zoe grumbled. She strode across the room to the door and yanked it open. “Hey, we’re clo-”

Her words died in her throat when she saw who it was.

Douxie, covered in scratches and surrounded by sickly pale orange magic, was supported by two other familiar figures - Nari, the short green-skinned demigod struggling to hold up their side of Douxie, and Day, who seemed wounded but not as badly as Douxie. Archie soared in right behind them, his glasses cracked and wings torn.

“What-” Zoe started, but before she could finish, Day heaved Douxie into the building, slamming the door shut behind them and casting a simple warding spell with her signature dark, smoky red magic. “We should be fine now,” they said to no one in particular.

Nari immediately crouched beside Douxie and started humming a low, soft melody, holding their hands over his body but not touching him. Archie landed on top of Douxie’s body, unaffected by the magic that cocooned his master, and transformed into a black cat.

Day sat down against the door with a long sigh, dragging their hands over their face, causing their red-tipped black hair to fall over their eyes.

“What happened to you?!” Zoe demanded, causing Day to blink and look up at her. “Why is Douxie about to die, why are you all banged up, and why haven’t I heard from you in the last month?”

“Good to see you too, Zoe,” Day answered, almost falling over again as she stood back up, grabbing the door handle to stay balanced. “Sorry to crash your place so late at night, but we need a place to lay low - and someone who’s good with banishing spells.”

“Hasn’t Douxie been teaching you magic?” Zoe asked, trying not to think about Douxie’s unconscious body lying on the floor near her. Archie nudged his face anxiously, but nothing happened.

“It’s been a little hard when we’re running for our lives every single day for the past month or so,” Day snapped, then closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. “Sorry. But I don’t have the skill, or expertise, to remove these curses from him. Come on, Zoe. You have to help him.”

Zoe nodded and stepped towards Douxie, not looking at the many scratches. “Alright. What is it? And why can’t our little plant fairy over here heal him?”

Nari scooted away to allow Zoe more space, letting Archie perch on her arm, and Day said, “we were fighting Nari’s siblings in New Jersey, and Douxie took a risk. A really big one. He cast a defense and deflection spell on himself, and it worked - at least, sort of. It immunized him to the fire and ice, but-”

“His spell made him immune to the elements, but not to their plain magic,” Zoe murmured. Oh, Douxie. Why would you do this to yourself?

“He went in, guns blazing, thinking he was immortal. It was quite a sight, really-” Day choked up and looked down, her arms crossing over her chest. Even their purple and blue sweater was ripped up in places, but they didn’t seem to care. “I don’t know exactly what happened. These threads of magic surrounding him - it’s some sort of curse, but I don’t know what kind. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s preventing Nari from healing him, though.”

“It’s definitely a curse,” Zoe confirmed, crouching down next to Douxie and cautiously poking her wand at the wispy threads of magic that spooled around his body. “But a uniquely horrible one - and I don’t even think it was on purpose. Whatever spells Bellroc and Skrael cast must have somehow merged with Douxie’s deflection spell. It’s still protecting him from outside magic, which is why Nari can’t heal him, but it’s - how do I say this? His wounds are almost sealed in, preventing them from healing. This curse technically shouldn’t exist, and removing it will be a delicate process.”

“Thank you, Zoe,” Day said with a relieved smile. “How can I help?”

About an hour later, Zoe heard a knock on the door in the back room of Hex Tech.

“I, uh. . . brought you some dinner,” Day said, awkwardly shoving the door open with their elbow while holding a large bag of what looked like takeout. “Or maybe it’s technically breakfast. How’s Douxie doing?”

“A lot better now that he’s no longer cursed,” Zoe answered from her spot lying down on the couch. Day walked over and offered her a plastic container of food, which Zoe took but didn’t eat. “Nari’s been healing him little by little, because we don’t know what extra damage the curse may have caused. You have no idea how hard it was to disable. Imagine trying to unravel a woven carpet, but you can’t take out certain threads unless other ones are gone, and if you remove the wrong thread the carpet will blow up in your face.”

Day sighed, sitting next to Zoe and sinking into the couch pillows. “You’re right. I don’t have any idea.”

Nari leaned over Douxie, who was spread out on a cot, sealing individual wounds one by one while Archie fluttered around their head and offered helpful advice.

“Really, Zoe. Thank you. Douxie owes you his life. We all do,” Day promised.

Zoe snorted. “He’s owed me since Camelot. Not you, though. This is. . . what, the second time I’ve saved your life?”

Day smiled faintly. “Technically I wasn’t about to die when we came here, but I’ll give you that. The first time - there was that shadow mephit, remember? You and Douxie neglected to tell me that it could see through my illusions.”

Zoe punched them softly. “You were never in any real danger.”

Day shrugged and pulled out a Hex Tech cafeteria spork from the takeout bag, digging into their bowl of lukewarm food. “Just because you guys saved me doesn’t mean I wasn’t in danger.”

“Alright,” Zoe admitted. “You totally would have died if I hadn’t saved your sorry butt.”

“This is a nice room, by the way,” Day commented between mouthfuls of food. “Much cozier than the last time we visited.”

Zoe nodded, opening her own container and taking a spork from Day. “We turned it into a lounge after the last one was blasted off the building by a certain duo of demigods.”

For a while they just sat together eating, listening to Nari’s soft hums and watching as, slowly but surely, Douxie’s body patched itself together. The soft light of the screens made everything in the darkened room look cold, but Zoe could tell that Douxie was going to be fine.

“Day?”

“Mhm?”

Zoe sat upright to face them, setting the food container aside. “Why did you come here, of all places? I mean, there are Hex Tech stores all over the country, and countless other hedge witch covens in the U.S. alone.”

Day shrugged again, leaning back against the couch cushion. “We needed your magic.”

“Any hedge witch could have done what I just did - and they probably could have done it better.”

“Fine,” Day sighed, rubbing their eyes, and Zoe sensed a floodgate about to open.

“It’s exhausting, you know? Constantly running from place to place, never knowing if you’re safe or not. Douxie hid Nari’s magical signature from the Arcane Order, but they still managed to keep tracking us down over and over again. I knew, every time that they found us, that it might be the time that we failed. If one of us got hurt, or worse. . . if Nari was taken. . .”

Day grabbed one of the square pillows and punched it until she was satisfied, then spread out on the couch with their head resting against the pillow.

“Is it okay if we stay here for a couple of days?” She asked quietly. “Douxie needs to recover, and we’re both tired. We need some time to recharge, and-”

“Of course, Day,” Zoe said immediately. “In fact, I’ll stay here with you.”

Day propped themselves up on one arm to look at Zoe. “Wait, really?”

Zoe raised her eyebrows and opened a cabinet door, yanking out a sleeping bag. “Of course. Arch, Nari, you want one?”

Nari looked up and shook their head, curling up on the floor next to the screen on the back wall that projected a realistic forest scene. “I’d prefer not,” Archie replied, “but Day, that pillow you’re sleeping on looks awfully comfy.”

Day smiled and tossed one to Archie, who snatched it out of the air and dropped it right beside Douxie’s head, laying down to watch him.

Zoe spread out the sleeping bag next to the couch, taking another pillow from day and placing it at the top.

“You don’t have to stay with us, Zoe,” Day reminded her. “We-”

“Come on,” Zoe interrupted. “This will be fun! Just like old times.”

“If by ‘old times’ you mean Douxie, you, Arch, and I fighting monsters during the day and squishing into that tiny god-awful apartment at night, then sure.”

“Exactly!” Zoe exclaimed. “Except this time, you’re in even more danger.”

Day laughed. “Hey - what about a light show?”

Nari perked up at the back of the room, and Zoe shrugged. “Sure. It’s been a while since I’ve seen your tricks.”

Day shook her head, even as she smiled and raised her hands up.

Small pulsing sparks of bright light started falling from the ceiling, slowly drifting around like snow. Nari giggled as one fell into their hand, blossoming into a small flower before it dissipated into sparkles, which then faded into nothing.

All around them, sparks started to land and burst into life. On the table, a tiger made of light leapt into the sky before fading away; a snake formed of sparks slithered up at Zoe from the foot of her sleeping bag before breaking apart right before it reached her; a shining sapling twisted out from the floor right at Douxie��s feet.

Slowly, all of the illusions faded away, until the room looked sad and dark in the absence of Day’s light.

“Thank you, Day,” Nari murmured happily before curling back up again, resting their head against the wall.

“How often do you do that?” Zoe asked, still dazzled by the light show.

“Almost every night,” said Day. “Goodnight, Zoe. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Day. Arch. Nari.” Douxie, she added silently.

Just like old times.