#if you want to call that ooc be my guest

[maykrisms]

I'm here to tell you that Spidey would 10000% say 'Daddy chill' to "God" and be absolutely serious about it.

Cut to Variyel pausing, before going down the "My child, do you need a fatherly hug?" path.

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | Roses Grow Thorns

*•.¸♡Request: Pls pls pls do a part 2 too the snow x reader fix it was so amazing and I want more of them 🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️🩷

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, jealousy, hurt comfort, fluff ending

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolanus Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: Coriolanus learns his favourite flower grows thorns

Or

You confront Coriolanus about his relationship with Lucy Gray

*•.¸♡Words: 2k

Part 1

People danced, swaying with their partners in a circle as you stood on stage, strumming your guitar and singing to the crowd. Lucy had just finished the first half of her set, so you took the stage to fill the silence. Coriolanus sat with Sejanus at a table across the room, large glasses of some sort of liquor. Coriolanus looked up at you and smiled.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Your voice trailed off slightly as Lucy raced to Coriolanus and Sejanus, throwing her arm around his shoulder and leaning between them. You shook your head and continued to play, trying to ignore Lucy Gray practically hanging from Coriolanus’s arm.

Jealousy, an unwelcome guest, clawed at the edges of your heart, leaving an ache in your chest. No words had been exchanged, and no actions had passed between you two. It overtook the corners of your mind, urging you to believe that Lucy Gray should sense the unspoken connection threading its way between you and Coriolanus.

Each shared trip to the lake, every stolen moment when Coriolanus chose to spend his fleeting free hours with you — these fragments of time saved in your mind like photos in an old book. Yet, as you observed Lucy Gray standing there, a vision of radiant smiles and hushed confidences exchanged with Coriolanus, a wave of emotion surged. It was as if the world momentarily lost its colour, and the whispers of uncertainty left an indelible mark on your heart.

You clenched your hand, trying to ease the shaking in your hands.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

Every night for the past week following that evening, Coriolanus Snow would tap gently on the glass of your window. You would turn your head and he would smile, the same bright smile that made your stomach flip and fill with butterflies. You crept across the wood floors and opened the window, looking down at the blue-eyed boy. “Are you busy?”

You would simply laugh at him. You grabbed your coat and slipped out the window, Coriolanus gripping your waist to help you down properly. He would smile, slip a scarf under the window to close it without locking it and you would slip away unnoticed, descending into the velvety embrace of the night.

In those quiet moments, Coriolanus would slip your hand in his own, his warm hand covering yours as he laced your fingers together. He guided you through the dense labyrinth of woods, you knew these woods better than he did but through the nights as he led you to the lake, you questioned if you ever knew them at all. 

The Mokingjays sang into the night as if calling to the small fireflies to light the way. “I brought matches,” Cori said, looking back at you. He tugged on your hand bringing you closer and you couldn't help but think about Lucy Gray running her hand along his shoulders. “We can light a fire. Maybe catch some fish.” You nodded and Coriolanus smiled.

You reached the lake and Coriolanus set his bag down, quickly gathering everything to start a fire. You walked to the edge of the water, your mind running faster than you could even start to comprehend. “Think we’ll catch anything?” He asked, stopping to look up at you.

You looked back over the water, looking at the fish no bigger than your palm swimming just above the sea floor. You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the moonlight dancing on the waves of the water. “Nothing big enough to eat,” You said. Coriolanus nodded and turned back to the fire.

Once the fire was made you sat on the ground beside him, leaving enough space so your shoulders didn’t touch. You both sat in silence, Coriolanus’s knee bouncing softly. 

The flames danced and flickered, the golden glow flickering in Coriolanus’s blue eyes, you settled onto the ground beside him. You shifted slightly, making sure your shoulders didn't touch. The silence stretched between you, Coriolanus's fingers drumming against a stick he held in nervousness.

Coriolanus's knee bounced softly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of both your hearts. The mere inches that separated you felt like an unbridgeable chasm, as long and confusing as his thoughts. “Did I do something?” His voice cut through the silence like a knife and you turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You seem distracted. You’re not talking like you usually do. You’re sitting far away.” You bit your lip and shrugged softly. “What’s wrong?”

“What did I sing tonight?” You turned to face Coriolanus. “Tonight. I sang, I wore the red dress so everyone could see the white rose you gave me. But what did I sing?” Coriolanus stammered. “You don’t spare a second glance at me during our shows, you talk to Sejanus when I do perform and you let Lucy Gray hang off your arm like she was yours.”

He spoke your name softly, trying to shuffle closer but you stood quickly. “Don’t do that Cori,” You pleaded. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you later.” You turned on your heel. Making your way back through the woods.

Coriolanus sighed, dropping his head into his hands as you walked from his view.

The next morning you stared at the ceiling, stretched out on your small bed. You twisted a small rose between your fingers, the thrones pricking your skin occasionally. The knock at the window made you jump. You turned your head to look at Coriolanus standing on the other side, smiling ever so slightly. You sighed and set the rose aside before walking to the window and pulling it open. “Corio-”

“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything, just follow me.” 

“Cori-”

“What did I just say?”

A frustrated huff escaped you as you forcefully closed the window, shutting out the annoying sounds of crickets. Pulling the blinds closed with a swift motion covering Coriolanus’s face, but you caught his smile dropping. You donned your jacket and stepped out the front door, stopping in front of Coriolanus just as you turned the corner. He extended his hand, a warm smile playing on his lips. Suppressing the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface, you offered a muted response, "Just lead the way," your words carrying a hint of resignation.

Coriolanus nodded and started to lead you through the woods, the sun still yet to rise properly. “You sang I Wanna Be Yours,” Coriolanus muttered. “No, I didn't ask Lucy Gray. You wrote it after you met your old girlfriend but you haven't sung it since. That’s why it was so important to you. And why you wanted me to remember it.”

You hummed and tried to hide your smile. “So you were paying attention.”

Coriolanus spoke, low and earnest, his gaze fixed on you. "I always pay attention," he assured, a sincerity etched into his words. The weight of his gaze, coupled with the firmness in his tone, sought to reassure you. "And nothing is happening between Lucy Gray and me. She was helping me with something," he explained, his words carrying the weight of truth and an unspoken plea for understanding.

“Which is?”

Coryo smiled, “Keep following me.”

You followed Coriolanus, walking in silence until the sun rose completely. He stopped at a rock wall, a small dirt trail winding around it. He reached out, slipping his hand into yours and leading you down the track. “Roses don’t grow in 12, the ground is too hard,” Coriolanus started. “Lucy Gray told me just beyond the rock wall there is ground soft enough to grow flowers. Sejanus used his father's money to get some seed and…” Coriolanus stepped aside as you reached the bottom of the track.

You smiled, Coriolanus’s hand slipping from yours as you stepped further into the growing rose field. Dozens of rose bushes had started to grow, small red and white flowers sporting. Small raindrops covered the flowers, the sun reflecting off of them like diamonds. You crouched, smiling as you ran your hand along the rose petals. 

A soft smile played on your lips, and Coriolanus's hand tenderly released yours as you ventured deeper into the growing rose field. Rows of rose bushes, adorned with tiny red and white blossoms, unfold before you, blossoming like a garden from the Capitol. Small raindrops adorned the delicate petals, capturing the sunlight in a dance that shined like diamonds. Your heart swelled. You glanced back at Coriolanus who shared the same smile.

You carefully crouched down, your smile growing as you traced the velvet texture of the rose petals with your fingertips, each delicate touch slow and careful as if the rose would fall apart. Coriolanus smiled as he watched you, his stomach filling with butterflies as he waited for you to speak. 

"Wait..." The urgency in your voice sliced through the air as you stood, swiftly pivoting to face Coriolanus. His smile disappeared, replaced by a stark seriousness mirrored in your eyes. Your heart fell to your stomach as your voice shook, "You said Sejanus got the seeds from his father. If the Peacemakers find out, they'll take you away." The gravity of your words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere. “Cori, they’ll take you to the hanging tree-”

“They won’t,” Coriolanus said quickly. He stepped forward holding your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the lines of your cheekbones. “No one is going to take me away. No one is taking you. Or Sejanus, or Lucy Gray.” You raised your hand, settling it on top of his. “This place is ours, yours and mine. No one is going to take that.”

Yours and mine.

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked up at Coriolanus, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You got me roses?” You asked.

“You said you liked the Capitol flowers more,” Coriolanus remembered. “I can’t exactly take you to the Capitol, so I thought I’d bring the best part of the Capitol here.”

“Besides yourself.”

A warm smile graced his features as he leaned in, closing the distance until his forehead gently met yours. "Do people in the Capitol kiss differently than the districts?" His inquiry, spoken in a hushed tone, carried a hint of curiosity and a touch of playfulness.

“I think…” you leaned up slightly, bumping your nose against his, “you should find out.”

The brush of his fingertips against your jawline, tracing a delicate path along your skin, igniting a shiver that danced down your spine. As he cradled your face, your breath hitched in anticipation, your eyes staring at his chapped pink lips. Drawing you closer, the final shared breath seemed to linger, suspended in the charged atmosphere, before he sealed the connection with a kiss that felt like a spark that lit a fire. Your heart echoed the rhythm of the thousands of times you had dreamed of this moment and your hands instinctively wound around the back of his neck, the embrace pulling him closer.

Your stomach twirled, filling with butterflies as one of Coryo’s hands moved to wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. He pulled away, his breath coming out in small pants, your breath in sync with his. You opened your eyes, looking up at his half-closed eyes tracing over every part of your face. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”

He whispered it back.

ﾟ°☆Page navigation

[receedingdawn]

Cookies And Acrylic

Pairing: Logan x Reader

Summary: When anxiety keeps the art teacher awake at night, she comforts herself with late-night shenanigans and a surprise guest.

Warnings: OOC for Logan (Sorry he can be IMPOSSIBLE to write for but I love him dearly, fluff, pining

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: I'm so sorry I wrote this at like 1 am because I could not sleep, very fitting for this one shot though... Also unedited because I didn't feel like it!

Read on AO3

Groaning as you twisted and turned in bed, you rolled over to check the time. It was one of those nights where no matter how hard you tried to lift into that blissful rest you so desperately craved, it never came. A pitiful sound escaped you as the clock read two in the morning, too late to have a good night's rest, yet too early to be up. Rolling back over, you contemplated your next actions for a few seconds. Sleep never came easy, especially during the nights that you were kept up with anxiety. 

When asked to help out at Charles’ school for the gifted, you instantly agreed. You knew how the rest treated mutants of the world, you practically leaped at the opportunity to help out. It was a harsh world they were born into, and you made it your goal to help as many out as you could. How much stress the job would give didn’t dawn on you when you started. Nights like this where you lay awake, your mind stuck on the endless probabilities of the children being hurt while in your care. You knew the rest of the team would be there to help if anything happened, but anxiety doesn’t always need a reason to happen. It just does.

Deciding to walk around the building to calm yourself, you got out of bed with a sigh. You changed your sleep shorts into flannel pajama pants in fear of a student discovering you wandering around the school in the middle of the night. The last thing you wanted to do was accidentally traumatize a student with their half-naked teacher roaming the halls in the early hours of the morning. Sliding your feet into a pair of slippers, you made your way out of the room to begin your adventure around the perimeters.

It was incredibly calm with the habitants of the house fast asleep, keeping the building at an eerily quiet tone as you wandered the rooms. You padded to the kitchen, in search of a glass of water and maybe a late-night snack. At this point, would it be considered an early morning snack? You didn’t care enough, all you knew was that a secret tin of baked goods was calling your name. Ororo had been into town a few days before, stopping at a bakery on the way home. She had selflessly bought a pack of assorted goods for her fellow teachers on the way home, hiding them in the back of the pantry as to ward off sneaky students.

Taking a simple chocolate chip cookie out, you decided that instead of water, of course, you needed milk with it. Even though you were well into adulthood, no single person could be too old for the comforting taste. You grabbed a random mug from the cabinet, pouring yourself a glass before sitting down at the kitchen table in silence.

Holy shit.

Ororo wasn’t lying when she said the bakery was the best she had ever been too. It had been a few days since she brought them home, yet the taste could still bring tears to your eyes. You had no idea such a regular-looking cookie could be borderline orgasmic. 

“Am I interrupting something?” The rough voice awoke you from the temporary trance the heavenly treat had you in. Your eyes snapped to the dark doorway of the kitchen, noticing the gruff man. Logan was leaning on the side of the frame, his arms crossed while his eyebrow was cocked playfully. You chuckled to yourself for a moment, realizing the absurd position the man had caught you in.

“You might be, I was having some sweet alone time with the newfound love of my life,” you giggled, pointing to the half-eaten cookie. Logan rolled his eyes as he sauntered into the kitchen, making his way to the pantry. He opened up that tin you had just been in, grabbing himself a helping. Shooting a look in your direction, he held up the cookie as if wordlessly saying “It better be good” before taking a bite.

“Holy fuck, what the hell did they put in here?” The man let out in the middle of chewing, his voice muffled by the crumbs. You stared at him for a second before bursting out into laughter at his unusual response. Logan was always one for seriousness, you had never seen this side of him before. The severe nature of the man never bothered you, it drew you in. He fascinated you with his witty remarks and lack of social interaction with the others. Logan was an outcast in a place where no such thing existed, and you had always wanted to figure him out. Jean would call you out on those thoughts, saying it was a crush, but the word made you feel like a school girl following around her boy of the week.

“I think Ororo said there was a sign in the shop that said Made with EXTRA love, but I honestly think it might be drugs.” You said after finally getting a hold of your laughter, causing the man to crack a slight grin. God, if you could take a picture there and frame it, you would. He never smiled, he smirked, but never a true smile.

“Definitely drugs,” Logan remarked, finishing the last of his cookie. He wiped the excess crumbs off his hands and rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands in the kitchen sink. You did your best to not make it obvious you were staring at the veins in his arms as he lathered them up.

“What are you doing up?” You asked him, forcing yourself to think about something other than his well-built body. The man quickly dried his hands before facing you again, “Couldn’t sleep.” There was the Logan you knew best, the one who gave short answers with little to no context. You cocked a brow at him, telling him that answer wasn’t good enough.

“Nightmares,” He let up after a few moments, finally giving you an answer. Shooting him an understanding look, you got up to clean your mug and throw away the napkin your snack had been on.

“I get it, between my nightmares and anxiety I rarely ever sleep.” You responded, voice low with the admittance. The man nodded in understanding, knowing exactly what you meant. He was well acquainted with the nightly battles one who had been through the events either of you had been though fought every night. Logan was surprised to feel he felt bad for you, even though the admission wasn’t a surprise to him. Most who lived at the mansion had some sort of trauma to get through and lived with the reminders of it each day. He was more surprised that it didn’t cross his mind you struggled with it. You were a light in the mansion, both students and other teachers adoring you. It was completely understandable, in a world of chaos and unknowns you were a beacon to everyone. Your kindness and warmth radiated to all those who were in your vicinity, and they did not take it for granted.

“I’m in the same boat princess,” Logan said, moving himself away from the sink to give you room to clean the dirty dish. You both sat there while you scrubbed, the sound of the faucet filling up the silence. He just stood there, watching you as you worked. It wasn’t an uncomfortable feeling, it almost felt as if he was studying you.

“Are you going back to bed?” You asked after putting the now clean and dry mug back into the cabinet. Shaking his head no, Logan made his way to the hallway to go back to whatever he was doing before interrupting you. You called out after him before he left, causing him to turn around.

“Have you ever painted?”

In the over a millennium he had been alive, Logan Howlett never thought he would be caught dead with a paintbrush in his hand. He had no idea why he agreed to a painting lesson in the early hours of the morning. Logan knew everyone at the school was equally obsessed with you, which resulted in him usually keeping his distance. He knew you were a gorgeous and kind individual, but he never caved to his urge to get to know you.

“You’re psyching yourself out, it’s written all over your face, Lo.” His gaze snapped from the small tool to you in an instant. You had never called him by a nickname before, and the way it rolled off your tongue sounded like music to him. He gripped the paintbrush with such a force you had never seen before, causing you to almost let out a giggle. Sitting on your bed, cross-legged, with a brush in his hand, he looked extremely out of place. A man with hands the size of his had no business being even close to a paintbrush, let alone using one. The jeans and white tank top he practically had glued onto his body at all times had no business being on your bed, but he had no complaints if it meant he got to spend a few moments with you.

“Just follow my lead, okay?” How could he follow your lead when you worked so meticulously? The man just stared at you as you worked, your talented hand shaping out a small tree on the canvas. He stared for a few moments, coming to the realization he could watch you for hours and not get bored. Didn’t people say watching paint dry was excruciatingly dull?

“You’re worse than my students,” you joked, noticing the lack of paint on his canvas.

“None of your students have metal for bones, it makes it harder,” You both knew Logan was just coming up with excuses to get away with his little creative talent.

“I have a boy in one of my classes who had feet for hands, you’re pulling things out of your ass Logan.” He was caught there.

“Enough, just help me.” His hazel eyes shined playfully, holding out his hand to help him again. You rolled yours back in response, leaning over to help him. Taking a hold of his hand, you guided his movements on the canvas. Your breath caught as you felt how strong Logan felt under you, despite him letting you be in control.

You couldn’t help but feel that it was almost domestic, the two of you sitting on your bed in silence while participating in your favorite activity. No answer as to why he would agree to this came into your head, but you weren’t mad.

“Alright Edward Scissorhands, your turn to try by yourself. You can be a big boy and do it yourself, can’t you?” Teasing him, you went back to your work. It was a simple scene of the courtyard out back, showing off the gorgeous greens of the trees. Logan couldn’t help himself but watch you, continuously messing up his own work in the meantime. After finishing yours, you looked up, noticing the mess left on the man's canvas.

“I tried,” He shrugged his shoulders in embarrassment.

“I know you did,” Your genuine response took him by surprise. Logan assumed you were going to have some cute quip to respond with, but this one was different. Not everyone was cut out for making art, but he had tried. Never in a million years would anyone who knew Logan would think he would even think about partaking in a hobby. Yet here he was, getting out of his comfort zone (while multitasking and checking you out).

You helped him finish his painting to the best of your ability, yet it came out comparable to Charlie Brown’s old Christmas Tree. Logan knew he had no creative bone in his body, but boy did he try his best. You joked that his finished product was similar to Charles’ old burnt tree in the courtyard, and he chuckled in response. He signed his initials at the bottom and dated it as well. You started to pack up the supplies while Logan helped clean off brushes.

“I’m keeping this,” You held up his work while grinning, He groaned in embarrassment at the thought of others coming into your room and wondering what the abomination was.

“Jesus Christ,” Running his hand through his hair, Logan gave you a pointed look. There was no way in hell you wanted to keep his god-awful creation to yourself.

“Listen, in fifty or so years I can sell this for crazy money. A painting made by The Wolverine himself, you could make me rich Lo!” There was that nickname again, and it suddenly made him okay with you taking it.

“So you’re just using me,” He muttered sarcastically, causing you to giggle in response. You handed him your painting as a consolation for your gold digger behavior. Logan would not admit how taken away he was by the action, instead he just stared at you again. You looked back at him curiously, wondering where his words went. He genuinely had no words, it had been a while since someone gave him a gift, even if you wouldn’t consider it.

“Thanks for hanging out with me,” you had just given Logan a masterpiece and that was all you had to say about it? It annoyed him how sweet you were, and he knew this was going to become a problem for him. 

“Despite the looks of it, I did have fun. Thanks for making the night bearable, princess.” You both got up, giving each other one last look. In a moment of courage, you stood up on your toes and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you, I needed this,” you responded after lowering yourself back down. Logan noticed you blushing at the peck, which almost made him chuckle. Closing the door behind him, you made your way back to bed, hoping you could get at least a few hours before the next day came.

Logan made his way back to his room, studying every paint stroke of yours as he did so. He had never been interested in the arts before and was now obsessing over what he thought to be the second most beautiful thing he had seen in his life. The man concluded that you were the first. He decided to place it on the small table next to his bed, the piece standing out in his sparsely decorated room. Before setting it down, Logan looked at the back of the painting to see the words To: Lo written on it. 

~

Let me know if you guys liked this or not, I don't know how I feel about the ending tbh... To my friend that I admitted to in a Canes that I was writing fanfic again, I love you.

[kagakuoniryu]

Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

[raspberrybesitos]

Tear You Apart | joel miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist

Summary: Joel hates Halloween, but he loves you. You drag him to your best friends’ Halloween party, who are dying to meet the older man that’s making their friend so happy. However, a side of him you’ve never seen before is unleashed after both your boundaries are pushed; and Joel reminds you who you belong to.

Word count: ~10k (jesus christ this got away from me)

Rating: 18+ MDNI (All ageless blogs will be blocked.)

Warnings: no outbreak AU, established relationship, age gap (reader is mid/late 20s, Joel is late 40s), possessive!Joel, (soft)dom!Joel, jealous!Joel if you squint, some angst (man harasses reader), Joel uses violence to defend your honor, semi-public sex (they fuck at a party in the guest room), oral (f and m receiving), thigh riding, mirror sex, squirting, fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), Joel calls reader a slut once, biting, some nipple play, creampie, cum eating, some fluff, Joel is dressed as a vampire, lil bit of OOC Joel, reader is female and has hair Joel can pull but has no physical descriptions, NO USE OF Y/N

A/N: Graphic is for aesthetic purposes only and does not depict reader, she is completely faceless and a reader insert through and through. Loosely based on Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge. Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

It's here! I hope y'all enjoy, I had so much fun with this one!

Special thanks to @nostalxgic @gracieheartsspedro @undrthelights @jenispunk and @mandoisapunk for listening to me scream about this for weeks. I love u girlies <333

Stunning graphic by @nostalxgic

Divider by @saradika

“It’ll be so much fun, babe, I promise! Jas and Matt have been dying to meet you too,” you tell Joel about the Halloween party your best friends are throwing. They’ve been dying to meet him, curious about the man who’s made their friend so happy the past 8 months. 

You’re perched atop the counter, feet swaying as you keep him company while he works.

Joel’s crouched down on his knees, fixing the leaking faucet in your apartment that you’ve been complaining about for a week now. “I don’t know, darlin’, y’know ‘m no good at socializin’ ‘n stuff. ‘N why’re they so excited to meet an old man like me?” Joel grunts as he works under the sink. 

“Because, an old man like you makes me really happy and they just want to meet the reason for my new ‘glow’ they like to call it.” 

With one last grunt, he tightens the pipes and rises to his feet. “So you think ‘m old?” He huffs, brows furrowed, sweat beading down his temple. “What would you do if I said yes?” You tease, as you bite back a smile.

“Then I’ll jus’ have t’ show you what this old man’s capable of,” he says as he leans down to nibble at your neck. You yelp at the feeling, dissipating into laughter. You can feel him smirk against your skin. “That reminds me! I’ve already picked out our costumes,” you say, wrapping your arms around his back, tilting your head back to grant him more access as he litters kisses along your neck and collarbone.

“Oh yeah? ‘N what are we gonna be?” “Vampires. I’ve already got the fangs and a cape for you. I think it’s very fitting, considering what you’re doing right now,” you giggle, his patchy beard scratching your skin.

“Ain’t vampires like a hundred years old?” Joel lifts his head, meeting your gaze. “Even more fitting!” You press a quick, chaste kiss to his lips, hopping off the counter. He pulls you back by the waist before you can leave. “Watch it, darlin’,” playfully warning you.

“I’m kidding, baby,” you reassure him, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his temple. “Mm,” he grunts as he playfully smacks your ass. He leans down to press one more kiss to your lips - a soft, gentle one. You leave to order dinner for the two of you. 

“Oh, and Joel?” “Yes, baby?” “I’m fully aware of what you’re capable of. You can show me after dinner, after you try your costume on,” you tell him before exiting the kitchen. He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

The shit he does for you.

“I feel silly, darlin’,” Joel mumbles as you finish applying the fake blood on his chin. “It’s a Halloween party, Joel! Everyone there will be wearing costumes, no need to feel silly,” you tell him as you adjust the collar on his cape and smooth out his white button up. His chest is slightly exposed, a few buttons undone. 

“And for what it’s worth, I think you look really sexy. You’re really working those fangs.” You swear you see him blush as he shyly chuckles, the fangs peeking through his smile.

“You seen yourself, darlin’? Sexiest fuckin’ vampire ever. Jus’ wanna lay you out and eat ya for hours,” he says pulling you flush against his chest. His hands roam up and down your body, you’re adorned in a black mini dress and lacy black stockings. Fake blood dripping from your red and black painted lips and matching subtle fangs.

“Joel Miller! You kiss your mother with that mouth?!” You playfully smack his chest, flustered by his statement. “Nope, jus’ you, baby,” he laughs, nose nudging yours as he kisses you. You smile as you melt into the kiss, his arms, him.

You breathlessly pull away from him. “No more of that, or else we’re never gonna leave,” you say as you wipe the smudged fake blood and your lipstick from his lips. “I ain’t got a problem with that, honey.”

The bass is booming so loud you can feel the vibrations of the music from outside the house. There’s small crowds scattered throughout on the lawn smoking weed and cigarettes, the smell permeating the damp evening air. 

The two of you walk up the porch, fingers laced in each others’. Joel holds a 12 pack of beers in his free hand, a bottle of tequila in yours.

You hear your name called from behind you near the porch, whipping your head around the see who is trying to get your attention. You spot a man in a devil costume, gasping as realization hits you.

“Oh my god, Matt! Hi! Jas said you had to work, so I wasn’t sure if you were gonna be here, how are you?!” Matt, your friend Jas’ - Jasmine - boyfriend and your good friend, engulfs you in an awkward hug as you continue to hold Joel’s hand.

“Of course I’m here! Wouldn’t miss meeting the famous Joel Miller,” he lightheartedly laughs. Your hand still in Joel’s, you pull back and bring Joel forward. “Joel, this is my friend and Jasmine’s boyfriend, Matt. Matt, this is my boyfriend, Joel,” you gesture in between them. 

Joel lets go of your hand and extends it out to Matt. “Nice to meet ya, Matt,” he says politely. “Back at you, man. Jas never stops talking about how happy you make her, so it’s nice to have a face to the name,” Matt says as he firmly shakes Joel’s hand.

“Didn’t know I was a household name,” Joel jokes as he reaches for your hand again. Matt laughs and you bite back a smile. 

“Yeah, you’re a popular subject in this house. Let’s head inside, Jas has been waiting for you two to show up,” Matt says as he opens the front door to lead you two into the party.

It’s loud in the house. Bottles, cans, neon shot glasses, and red solo cups are littered all over the house. Caution tape and cotton cobwebs are draped on the walls as jack-o-lanterns are scattered throughout the living room. The color-changing lights flash throughout the room. People are clumped in groups, dressed in varying costumes, dancing and conversing over the music.

You can sense Joel’s shift in his mood, feeling his nerves and you squeeze his hand to reassure him that everything’s good. He looks down at you and gives you a soft smile. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Jas! Your special guest has arrived!” Matt shouts over the music as you three walk into the kitchen. Jasmine whips around at lightning speed, her angel wings bumping into the people surrounding her. She lets out an excited scream. 

“You came!” She drops the cups she was holding on the counter and lunges at you, giving you a bone-crushing hug. “Of course I did! I wouldn’t miss the party of the year!” You let go of Joel’s hand and wrap your arms under her wings. 

She gasps as she pulls back. “And I see you’ve brought the special someone! Hi, I’m Jas, it’s so nice to finally meet you, Joel!” She reaches out to hug Joel. He shifts a little, caught off guard by the hug, but adjusts to it immediately.

“Nice to finally meet you too, Jasmine. She talks about ya all the time, I know you two are thick as thieves,” he says while returning the hug with a smile. You can sense his relief.

“Oh, please call me Jas. And I could say the same about you! She never shuts up about you. I kept asking her ‘when am I finally gonna meet this mysterious Joel you keep talking about’ and it only took her eight months to introduce me,” she turns to you as she emphasizes her words.

“Pardon me, Jas. I was part of the stallin’. Just nervous to be around a younger crowd ‘n also want t’ make a good impression. I know ya mean a lot to her,” Joel tells Jas.

Jas softens at his words, her lips curling upside down with her hands pressed to her heart. “No need to be nervous! I like you already, Joel,” she says with a toothy grin. She turns to you again. “You were right, he’s as sweet as pie,” a rush of embarrassment floods your body, shyly smiling at her words. 

“Oh, and you brought more alcohol?! Such a Southern gentleman! Thank you so much, you two,” Jas giddily exclaims as she takes sight of the bottle of tequila and 12 pack from you and Joel.

“‘Course, what kinda guests would we be showing up empty-handed?” Joel asks, handing the alcohol over to Jas. She and Matt place the beer in one of many coolers and the bottle at the make-shift bar on the counter.

“Good ones,” Jas says, disappointment lacing her tone. “Mostly everyone showed up empty-handed, so we appreciate this so much. Thank you again! Now, let’s get you two some drinks!”

Jas pours the four of you some shots and passes them around. “To new beginnings and a great night!” Jas shouts as she raises her glass in the air. “Cheers!” The three of you say, copying her actions. You toss back the tequila, immediately chasing it with a lime wedge, grimacing at the burn.

“Was smooth,” Joel says, completely unfazed by the taste and sensation. He chuckles at your reaction and pulls you into his side. His large hand rests on your waist, toying with the hem of your dress. You look up at him, giddy like a schoolgirl as you try to keep your composure under his touch, feeling electrified as he shows you off and claims you as his.

“If you don’t mind, could I steal you away for a bit? I wanna get to know you a bit more, if you don’t mind, brother,” Matt asks Joel while glancing in between the two of you. “No fair, babe! I wanted to interrogate him first,” Jas huffs while she mixes cocktails for you and her. 

You and Joel laugh, his coming out a bit more uneasy than he intended. “Sure, man, I don’t mind. I promise to answer all your questions,” Joel says, letting go of your waist.

Jas hands you a red solo cup filled with something and Joel is about to be whisked away by Matt, but not before he leans down to press a swift kiss to your lips, careful not to ruin your makeup or his fake blood.

“He seems like a keeper,” Jas says smugly as the men walk away and the two of you sip your drinks. “You haven’t stopped smiling at him since you got here. You got it bad, babe.” You choke on your drink, a mix of embarrassment and disgust as the taste of the drink settles on your tongue.

“What the fuck did you even make?!” Jas laughs, “Your favorite! Rum and diet coke with a twist, but I might’ve put in a little more rum than diet coke.” You wince, but go back for another sip. Joel is driving so you could enjoy yourself, so why not?

“But in all seriousness,” Jas yells over the music while leading you two into the hallway away from the bustling kitchen. “You’re the happiest you’ve ever been and that’s all I want for you. I’m assuming he’s treating you right… right?”

You soften at her sentiment. “Yeah, babe, he treats me right. And I am happy, like beyond happy. He’s amazing, and you know I don’t just say that about any man so easily” you joke, the two of you giggling over your drinks.

“So the two of you have been together for what, 8 months now? I’m glad you could finally join us, and I hope you don’t take that the wrong way. Jas and I’ve just been so impatient waiting to meet you ‘cause she never stops talking about you,” Matt says while taking a sip of his beer, Joel mirroring him as they stand on opposing sides of the foyer. 

“Yeah, 8 months now. ‘N no, no hard feelin’s, man. We just both wanted t’ be sure about each other before introducing each other to people. She told me you and Jas have been together for 4 years, so ‘m assumin’ ya know about her past experiences if Jas has told ya anythin’,” Joel says while taking another swig of his beer. 

“Yeah, I know about ‘em all. Saw her go through some rough shit with her last ex. She’s been through hell and any friend of Jas is a friend of mine. I hope you get what I’m trying to say,” Matt says. 

Joel nods in understanding. “Yeah, I do, man, don’t worry. ‘S a big reason why it’s taken me so long to come around, so I get where you’re comin’ from,” Joel tells Matt as he nudges him with his elbow. “And what’s the other reason, if you don’t mind me asking?” Matt awaits Joel's answer

“Ain’t it obvious? ‘M fuckin’ twice y’alls age,” Joel says, brows furrowed in confusion with a smirk on his face. “Ah, that, man? We’re all grown! And she’s got a mind of her own, she can make her own decisions. That shit don’t matter, man! Were you that nervous to meet us?” 

Joel laughs gratefully. “Hell yeah, I was! I was worried we wouldn’t have anythin’ t’ talk about. Sometimes, she makes references ‘n I don’t understand what the hell she’s sayin’, but ‘m real glad that don’t matter to any of ya,” he says, raising his bottle to Matt. “Yeah, man, that don’t matter, as long as she’s happy! Which she seems to be,” Matt says. “Hope she is,” Joel mutters, the two of them clinking bottles together.

“It looks like they’re getting along! That’s a good sign. Matt normally isn’t open to meeting any of your dates, especially after Christian. He was a complete asshole, but I’m glad things are better for you now, babe. Seriously,” Jas tells you, the two of you huddled together on the loveseat, sipping your 5th rum and diet cokes.

You’re definitely feeling the effects of them now, your head feels warm and fuzzy along with the rest of your body. “Joel was so nervous to come tonight, Jas - more nervous than me. His age obviously doesn’t bother me, but does it bother you? Be honest,” you ask her, nervously fiddling with your nearly empty cup. 

“No, babe, not at all. And you should know this! You know I’ll always support you as long as you're happy. You weren’t happy with any of those assholes from the past, which is why I wasn’t supportive of your relationships with them,” she says.

You shift in the loveseat, casting your gaze towards the floor. “But, I support you now,” she quickly adds, placing her hand on top of yours, forcing your eyes to meet hers. “I support this. He’s good for you, I can tell. And I think you’re good for him too.” You both smile at each other. This time, you lunge at her, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” you say into her ear, embracing her for a moment. The two of you pull away.

“Matt needs to hurry up so I can talk to Joel, he’s hogging him,” she says as she rises from the loveseat. “I’m gonna get a refill, want one?” She asks, holding her hand out to you.

“I’m good for right now, I think I’m already drunk, so I’m gonna slow down for a bit. I’m gonna go find Joel though, I wanna dance!” You tell her, rising from the loveseat with her hand in yours. 

“You think he’ll dance with you? Don’t get me wrong, I love that he makes you happy, but he doesn’t seem like the dancing type.” “Babe, he’s already wearing a costume and came with me. I think he’ll do just about anything I ask of him,” a smug smile plastering your face. Wobbly from the liquor, you carefully make your way towards Joel and Matt.

“Hey, baby,” you slur, interrupting their conversation as you clutch Joel’s strong forearm to gain some sort of balance. “Woah, you good there, babydoll?” Joel asks, catching you as you struggle to stand still. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just drank a lot without moving, so I’m feeling it. I hope you two had a nice talk because I’m about to steal him away. Sorry, Matt,” you shrug.

Matt has a shit eating grin on his face. “No worries… babydoll,” he barks out a laugh. You feel warm, and not just because of the alcohol. Heat radiates all throughout your body, your stomach flipping at Joel’s affection and Matt’s teasing. Joel playfully swats Matt on the shoulder. “Watch it, man.” Matt doubles over at Joel’s lame attempt to warn him. Joel feels his face heat up with embarrassment. Matt takes great joy in seeing the two of you flustered.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Matt says while putting his hands up in surrender, leaving you two alone in the hallway. The first time the two of you’ve had a moment to yourselves since arriving. You look up at him, chin resting against his thick bicep. He looks down, his eyes hazy with a mixture of love and lust. 

“Hi, baby,” he says while pressing a kiss to your head, beer bottle now placed on a decorative wooden table. “You and Matt getting along? Seems like it.” “Yeah, he’s a cool guy. Real protective of you.” He wraps his free arm around your waist, maneuvering the both of you so that your chests are pressed together. “Well, Jas is like my sister and he’s been with her for years, so he’s kind of like a brother to me in a way. Both of them just want me to be happy.”

He takes in your words, rubbing small circles on your lower back. “Are you happy, babydoll?” He seems to know the answer, but you can feel his confidence waver. You scoff in disbelief, that you can’t help but mess with him. “That’s a crazy question, Joel. Of course I’m not happy, I actually can’t stand you. I only keep you around to fix stuff for me.” Joel rolls his eyes and smirks. 

“Mmm, is that so, darlin’?” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your neck, sucking on that spot near your collarbone. You throw your head back into a fit of giggles. “I’m just joking, Joel. Of course I’m happy, baby. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.” He hums into your neck, lightly kissing the spot before lifting his head. “Me too. I love you, darlin’,” he says, meeting your eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck, toying with the curls at the nape of his neck. “I love you too, baby.”

You tiptoe to press a kiss to his lips, completely melting into his embrace. He moves one hand from your waist to cup your cheek, pulling you in closer. Both of you sighing into the kiss, relishing in your solitude.

“How much do you love me, Joel?” You breathlessly ask when you pull away. He quirks his brow. “More than anythin’, baby… why?” He can’t help but feel curious as he sees a smirk make its way onto your face. “You love me enough to dance with me?” 

Dancing has never been his scene, socializing has never been his thing, but you’re everything.

Your fangs peek through as you bite your bottom lip awaiting his answer. He sighs, “‘Course I do, darlin’. Y’know I’d do anythin’ for ya, also can never say no to ya. I showed up to this party in a goddamn vampire costume, didn’t I?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, going in for another kiss. Joel moves his hand down your ass and squeezes it, eliciting a yelp from you and breaking the kiss.

“Joel!” You scold him, no trace of malice in your voice. He just laughs, letting go of your waist and taking your hand in his. His empty beer bottle now perched on the table in the foyer, along with many others as the two of you make your way to the makeshift dance floor in the living room.

The color changing lights flash to the beat of the music. You feel the floor vibrate beneath your boots. You can’t hide the smile on your face. Joel is a little awkward at first, unsure of what to do with his hands and in general. You guide him, taking his hands in yours and place them on your waist. You rhythmically grind your hips against his to the beat of the music. 

He’s a bit stiff. “Loosen up, babe! We’ve danced together before, I know you can dance!” You shout in his ear over the blaring music. “We’ve only danced in private, darlin’, not with an audience!” You playfully roll your eyes. “Babe, everyone here is either drunk, high, or both! No one cares!” His hesitation meets his eyes, but he powers through.

Joel grabs your hips and turns you around, your ass now grinding against his clothed hard-on to the beat. You smile and throw your head back in a fit of laughter, your hand reaching around to caress the back of his head. You both sway to the beat, sweating from the alcohol and the amount of people in the house.

The song transitions into the next and you turn around in Joel’s grasp. “I’m gonna go get another drink, do you want another beer?” You shout into his ear, holding onto his wide shoulders for balance. “Sure. Thanks, baby! I’m gonna see if I can find Matt again,” he shouts back. You lean up to press a quick peck to his lips before beelining to the kitchen.

The music is still loud, but not nearly as loud as it is in the living room. The paper thin entry door to the kitchen only somewhat drowns it out. There’s only a handful of people lingering in the corner of the kitchen and near the bar.

You politely make your way to the bar, excusing yourself as you shimmy between the group. You grab a red solo cup and make yourself another rum and diet coke with a twist, opting to keep mixing liquors to a minimum.

You make your way to find Joel, cocktail in hand, when you realize you forgot his beer. Spinning around, you turn back to grab him one from the cooler. You rise to leave and bump into someone as you try to make your way back to the hallway, your drink sloshing over the side a bit.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” You look up and see who you’ve bumped into - a younger man, around Matt’s age, dressed as a pirate. He’s nowhere near as tall as Joel, shorter and slimmer too.

“No worries, sexy. If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask,” he slurs out. You can smell the alcohol on his breath. You nervously chuckle, going to leave until your only exit is blocked by him. “Hey, where ya goin’?” He asks, offended at your attempt to leave. You tense as you feel your body go into fight or flight mode. 

“I’m so sorry for bumping into you, I didn’t see you when I turned around. I’ll get out of your hair,” you say as you try to move around him. He continues to block the door. “Aw, don’t leave, baby! Is it ‘cause I didn’t say sorry back?” You give him a tight lipped smile, still struggling to get away. 

“Sorry for bumping into you,” he sighs. “I didn’t realize I was that close to ya while you were bent over showing me that pretty little ass digging in the cooler.” A flash of heat washes over you, rage surging through your body. You try to size him up, swallowing down the fear, and assert yourself.

“Could you move please? I’d just like to get back to the party,” you sternly, but kindly ask him, despite him being undeserving of your kindness. He moves closer, backing you into the counter, caging you. “You here with anybody?” “Yes, my boyfriend. Now please, move,” you try to duck underneath him, but he grabs you by the waist.

“Wait, that old dude?! You serious?! I saw you two dancing, but I thought that was a joke. Come on, baby, you can do better than that old man, especially when I’m right here,” he shouts. Panic settles in as you struggle to escape his grasp.

The kitchen door swings open with Matt and Joel in tow, but unbeknownst to you with your view still blocked by this creep. “Hey, the hell’s goin’ on here?” Joel barks. The creep whips his body around and laughs. “Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. Thought she was fuckin’ with me when she told me she was here with you.” 

Joel steps forward, chest heaving as he sizes up the man harassing you. “Hey, cool it, Joel. And you, Anthony, get the fuck out of here, you’re not even supposed to be here,” Matt shouts, intervening. With his back turned, you manage to escape Anthony’s grasp and you in and rush into Joel’s arms.

“You alright, baby? What happened?” Joel asks as he crushes you into his embrace, cupping your face in his hands. As you’re about to answer, Anthony cuts you off with a scoff while walking towards you two. “Nothing fucking happened! That bitch was fucking rude, she tried to leave while I was still talking to her!”

You see something you’ve never seen before flash in Joel’s eyes before he turns to Anthony - something protective, angry, primal. He fiercely places you behind him, blocking you from Anthony. “The fuck did you just call her?!” Joel’s voice booms over the music as he shoves Anthony into the kitchen island. Shoving Anthony again, Joel yells, "the fuck did you do to her?!"

“Hey, what the fuck, man?! I didn’t do shit! She’s the one who’s being fucking dramatic! All I asked was for a drink and a dance!” Seething, you find the courage to stick up for yourself.

“You know damn well that’s now what happened, you fucking jerkoff! You fucking grabbed me after I rejected your ass and tried to leave!” You shout from behind Joel. All three men are looking at you, along with the small crowd in the kitchen. 

Joel shoves him again and shouts, “You fuckin’ touchin’ my girl?! The fuck’s wrong with you?!” Anthony shoves him back. “Fuck you, man! I didn’t even know she was your girl!” Joel grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

“Don’t fuckin’ matter if she’s my girl or not, you don’t go puttin’ your fuckin’ hands on women after they said no,” Joel snarls. Matt tries to pry Joel off Anthony, but it’s no use. Joel’s got a death grip on Anthony’s collar.

“Let me go, you fucking psycho. Go stick your limp dick in your whore’s loose fucking pussy!” It all happens so fast that you don’t see it, but you hear it - a resounding crunch. Anthony groans as his nose gushes blood and Matt finally yanks Joel off him. “The fuck’s wrong with you?! You fucking broke my nose! All for that bitch over there?!” Anthony quite literally spits as blood dribbles onto his lips.

Joel grabs Anthony by the collar again and shoves him to the ground, following suit to pin him down. Anthony tries to swing at Joel and misses. Joel delivers one sickening punch after another to Anthony’s face.

You stand frozen in shock as Joel delivers another punch to Anthony’s face, his lip busted open, eyes bruising. It’s wrong, you know it’s wrong, but something about Joel defending you sends a rush through your body and a burning sensation to your core. None of your past partners have ever stood up for you before. Not even when you were openly harassed in front of them.

Seeing this angry, feral side of Joel has you all riled up for an entirely different reason now. You know you should stop him, but your feet are glued to the floor, unable to move and intervene.

Matt rushes to stop the fight before it escalates even more as Anthony lay there helpless on the floor, no match for the older, broader man. “Joel! Joel! Enough, man! I think he got the message,” Matt shouts over the commotion of the fight and the music, wrestling Joel off Anthony.

Jas runs in through the door at the sound of Matt yelling. She wiggles her way through the crowd that’s gathered to see the fight to your side, pulling you back from the scene. You hadn’t realized how close they'd gotten to you while fighting. She cradles you in her arms, screaming Matt’s name.

That pulls you out of your trance. Shuddering out of Jas’ grasp, you rush to the thrashing trio. “Joel!” You scream at the top of your lungs. Joel is about to deliver another punch when he hears you.

He snaps his head around and meets your gaze. You silently plead with your eyes to stop. You glance at Anthony as Joel rises to his feet. He lay on the floor groaning in pain, but that doesn’t stop Matt from forcefully getting him up and shoving him out the door.

Joel strides to you, gripping your face in his now battered hands. The two of you breathlessly lock eyes. You can hear Jas clearing out the crowd that’s gathered in the kitchen, but it sounds muffled, all your focus being on Joel.

“What the hell happened?!” Jas screeches while cleaning up the floor, a few cups and bottles were scattered on the floor in the midst of the fight, if you can even call it a fight. A few specks of blood stain the floor and that gets your attention. You grab a random rag on the counter and swiftly wipe it up as Jas continues picking things up off the floor.

“‘M sorry, Jas. Was my fault, not hers. Guy was just a prick,” Joel quietly says, guilt and shame evident in his voice. You quickly shake your head. “It wasn't your fault, Joel. That guy, Anthony, was harassing me when I came to get a drink for me and Joel. He blocked the door so I couldn’t leave. Then he grabbed me by the waist and caged me in between him and the counter and well... you can guess what happened next,” you explain to Jas, quick to justify Joel’s actions.

“Anthony?! What the hell was he doing here?! He wasn’t invited, we made that very clear to him,” Jas screeches. You and Joel give each other the same confused look. “Why wasn’t he invited, babe?” You ask Jas. 

“Because he was trying to make a pass at another friend of ours the last time we hung out. He didn’t get his ass beat, but we did tell him he wasn’t invited tonight. I’m gonna fucking kill him and whoever he came with,” she explains, exasperated and angry.

“Well now I don’t feel so bad for beating the shit out of him,” Joel mutters, a humorless chuckle escapes him. “Oh, Joel, don’t feel bad. If anything, I’m sorry that he got past us. This could’ve been prevented had Matt and I been more vigilant,” Jas says, tears pricking her eyes. 

“Hey. No one is to blame, but him. This is all on him, no one else. Am I clear?” You say, but both of them stay silent. “I’m okay, guys. I promise,” you firmly state.

Matt barges into the kitchen, frantically rushing to Jas’ side. “I’m so sorry he got past me, I told him last time to watch himself and that he wasn’t invi-,” 

“Matt, stop,” you cut him off. “I was just telling Joel and Jas that it’s no one’s fault, but his. I’m okay, guys. I promise. Beating yourselves up isn’t gonna change what happened. I’m just grateful that you guys walked in when you did,” you tell them. 

Joel huffs again. You reach for his uninjured hand. “Hey. You did good. You saved me. I’m okay, baby,” you say with a reassuring squeeze to his hand and a gentle smile on your face. Joel’s lips slightly quirk up at your expression. You glance down at his other hand and clear your throat. 

“Let’s get some ice on that. You could’ve broken it, we need to clean you up,” you tell Joel, gently inspecting his battered hand. “It ain’t broken ‘n you don’t gotta do all that, baby. No need to fuss over my dumbass. I did this to myself,” Joel groans.

“Oh! Let me get you something to ice that with,” Jas says, completely ignoring what Joel said and walks to the freezer to pull out a bag of frozen vegetables.

“There’s also a first aid kit in the guest room bathroom, if you two want to freshen up in there. I understand if you two want to leave, but the space is there… if you want,” she sheepishly says. You gratefully take the make-shift ice pack she hands you and squeeze her hand in the process.

“Thank you, babe. We’ll take you up on that,” you tell her, grabbing Joel’s hand to lead him out of the kitchen. Matt and Jas follow suit. “Upstairs, down the hall, last door on the left. Take your time,” Matt says, glancing between you and Joel, clapping a hand on Joel’s shoulder.

He and Joel nod at each other. Matt looks at you, concern lacing his features as his brows knit together. You give him a sheepish smile, an unspoken “I’m okay.” He gives you the same nod, and gestures towards the stairs.

You and Joel make your way upstairs and to the guest room. Joel follows in behind you, shutting and locking the door behind you.

The music is still loud, but slightly muffled now, the need to yell gone. You pad into the bathroom to get the first aid under the sink, returning to the bedroom. Joel sits on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands. 

“Hey,” you say, placing the first aid kit down next to him. His head snaps up and you can see the guilt in his eyes. “‘M so sorry, darlin’. I just got so fuckin’ mad. Mad that that fuckin’ prick was gonna hurt ya and mad at myself for not bein’ there sooner. Shouldn’t’ve let ya go in there alone,” he quietly says, voice barely above a whisper.

You push his legs apart a bit, making room for yourself on his lap to straddle him. You cup his face in your hands. “Hey, no. None of that, okay? I’m okay, baby. I promise. Like I said downstairs, the only person at fault here is that asshole. No one could’ve known he was gonna try anything, let alone be here. You can’t blame yourself for something you didn’t do. Besides, you stopped him before he really tried anything,” gently caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

He stays quiet for a moment. “‘M still sorry, darlin’. Your friends probably think ‘m some crazy fuckin’ old man.” “Joel, stop. You heard them yourself, they’re grateful you stopped him. And for the love of god, stop saying you’re old! You’re not even 50.” 

You pull his head into your chest, his head pressed against your heart, basking in the silence. You pull away to press a kiss to his forehead before reaching for the first aid kit.

“Now, give me your hand. You need to ice it,” you say, reaching your hand out for his. He begrudgingly groans, slapping his large hand into yours. “I said you ain’t gotta do all that, baby. It’s fine.” “Joel Miller, stop arguing with me.” “Or what, darlin’?” You smirk, “or else, I’m not gonna suck your dick later.” His eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“‘N why’re you gonna suck my dick later? Hmm?” You unravel a piece of gauze as he ices his hand, rummaging through the first aid kit for some alcohol wipes and medical tape.

“I mean, you defended my honor. I gotta pay you back somehow, don’t I?” You tease, grinding against his clothed cock while cutting a piece of tape. He grunts at the friction. You reach for his hand, he mindlessly places it in yours with his mind preoccupied now.

“You liked me punching that guy for you, didn't you, babydoll?” Joel whispers. Your brows quirk up, smizing at him, "what would you say if I did?” He chuckles.

“I’d say you’re a dirty girl.” You pause, making eye contact with him, the muffled music vibrating the walls. Warmth blooms in your belly, traveling straight to your cunt. Your hands are shaky as you remove the makeshift ice pack from his hand and wipe his hand with an alcohol wipe. He doesn’t even wince at the sting, solely focused on you. 

You clear your throat, the energy in the room shifting. “Then I guess that makes me your dirty girl,” you whisper, teasingly grinding against him again while trying to secure the gauze with medical tape. Joel growls at your words, and snatches the supplies from your hands and tosses them on the ground.

“Get on your knees,” he rasps. Your eyes go wide. “But I wasn’t d-,” you’re cut off, and suddenly your lips brush against Joel’s as he pulls you in by your hair with his battered hand. “Get on your fuckin’ knees, baby girl,” Joel says, rising to his feet and gently lifting you off his lap.

A wave of arousal pools in between your thighs. You scramble to position yourself, your dress flashing your cleavage in the process. You settle in front of his clothed cock, a visible bulge poking through the fabric of his black dress pants.

“Show me how dirty you are, baby girl. Go on, don’t get all shy on me now,” he says, eyes blown wide and black with lust. You glide your hands up his hips and grip the waistband of his pants, slowly dragging them down to reveal his twitching cock, trapped in his underwear. 

Teasingly cupping his heavy, hard length in your hands, Joel groans as you slowly pull down his briefs to pool around his ankles along with his pants.

His cock springs free from the confines of the fabric, red and throbbing. Your mouth waters at the sight. “Get to it, pretty girl, or else ‘m not cumming in that pretty pussy later,” Joel taunts. 

You grab his length in one hand, the weight of it making your head spin. Stroking him as you teasingly kiss along the vein that runs up his cock, making your way to the head. You run your thumb over the tip and Joel hisses at the sensation. You take only the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking on it.

“Stop fuckin’ teasin’, babydoll,” Joel growls, tugging at your hair to make you look up at him. You bat your lashes at him before diving in. Hollowing out your cheeks, you take him in slowly. He’s so big, you always have to take your time when you suck him off. 

You only make it halfway down his cock before you’re gagging around him. Joel groans at the noise and the way your throat constricts around him. “Too big for you, princess?” He taunts.

“Mmm mm,” you hum, looking up at him with tears welling in your eyes. You pull back a bit, leaving a messy trail of spit on his throbbing cock. Catching your breath, you make your way down him again.

“Fuck, baby, your mouth always feels so goddamn good,” Joel grunts. You hum at his praise, the vibrations cause him to twitch in your mouth. Bracing yourself once more and steadying your breath, you bob your head.

“So fuckin’ wet ‘n warm, baby, my good fuckin’ slut suckin’ my cock so well, fuck,” Joel groans, his words going straight to your cunt, clenching around nothing.

Moaning, you slurp around him with spit dripping all over your chin and his cock, your lipstick and mascara smeared. You breathe through your nose as you take him all the way, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

Joel moans loudly as you hum with tears streaming down your face as you deepthroat him. “Oh, good fuckin’ girl, my perfect fuckin’ girl,” Sucking up and down on his thick, long cock, you make your way to the base once more. Your nose nudged in his wiry bush, you cup his balls in your hand and toy with them. 

Joel involuntarily bucks his hips, pushing himself further down your throat. You gag around him once more, sending more tears running down your face and even more spit collecting around him and on your chin.

“Fuck! Stop, come here, baby,” Joel hisses, yanking you off him by your hair. You gasp for air as a string of spit and precum dribble from your lips, makeup completely ruined. You whine as he lifts you off your feet, desperately seeking his cock anyway you can have it.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, still need to cum in that pretty pussy,” he says, kicking his pants off his ankles while settling you on his lap, facing him again. He crashes his lips onto yours, finally after what feels like hours of not kissing him. The kiss is sloppy and ferocious, teeth clashing together, the taste of him mixed into it. Joel hungrily sucks your tongue into his mouth and swallows your moans.

He lifts the hem of your dress and pushes your lacy thong to the side, his fingers ghosting over your glistening folds. “Suckin’ my cock got you that wet, babydoll? Hm?” Nodding, you whimper as he sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking your slick off them. He groans at the taste of you as you whine. 

“Joel,” you whine, pouting at him. “So needy, baby. Later, sweet girl,” he chuckles as he holds your hips in place and bounces you on his thigh. You cry out at the friction it creates. “Right now, I want ya to ride me like this, baby girl. Think ya can do that for me? Huh, pretty girl?”

You whimper at his words. He bounces you on his lap again, causing you to whine again. "I asked you a question," he growls. “Yes, Joel,” you hiccup. “Good girl,” he says, pressing a kiss to your chest. You slowly grind against him, your slick coating his bare thigh. The relief you’ve been seeking feels euphoric, your thong rubbing against your swollen clit with each thrust on his strong, sturdy thigh.

You grind faster against him, holding onto his broad shoulders to balance yourself. “Take what ya need, babydoll,” Joel rasps as he yanks down the front of your dress and matching lacy bra, exposing your breasts. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, your back arching into him. You let out a high-pitched moan, a new wave of slick running down your cunt and onto his thigh. 

It’s slippery as you grind against him, your thrusts growing sloppy. Joel sucks your other nipple into his mouth, kneading your other breast with his bruised hand. He bites down, tugging on your nipple. Your eyes fly open, gasping as he smirks into your chest. 

“Joel,” is all you manage to stutter out. He bounces you on his leg as you continuously grind on him. He groans at the sight of your breasts bouncing in his face. It’s all too much, panting as you clench around nothing as you continue to relentlessly grind your aching clit against his thigh. 

“Come on, babydoll. Know you’re close, let go for me,” he says as he litters kisses all along your exposed chest. His words send you over the edge, endless moans streaming out of you as you cum all over his lap. “That’s it, babydoll. Atta girl,” he mutters as you twitch in his lap. Your breath stutters as you come down from your high.

He crashes his lips into yours, capturing them in another hungry kiss. He moans into your mouth while gathering you in his arms before tossing you on the bed. You squeal, landing on your back. Your tits bounce in the process, the both of you realizing you’re both still clothed.

“You like this dress, babydoll?” Joel asks, hovering over you, his lips ghosting over yours. “Mmhmm,” you respond, sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I’ll buy you another one,” he says, ripping the thin black dress down the middle. You gasp, shocked at his ferality. 

“Joel! What’s gotten into you tonight?” You squeak as he shucks off his costume. “Tonight reminded me I could lose ya at any moment,” he mumbles hovering over you once more. You pause, frowning at his words. “You’re never gonna lose me, Joel.” He doesn’t respond, instead he silently litters kisses on your chest.

“Joel, were you jealous?” You ask, brows knitted together. He sighs, “No… just hated seein' that prick so close to ya. Hated the way he treated ya and I fuckin' hated the way these boys here kept lookin' at ya when we came in.” You twirl the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“What way, Joel? And you know I don't care about any of those boys.” He presses another kiss to your jaw. You can sense the shift in his mood - that he’s still in his head about the situation. “I know, baby, I know, but I do. These fuckin’ boys ain’t got no respect for you and are always jumpin’ on ya the minute I walk away,” Joel rambles.

“Do you trust me, Joel?” You ask, cupping his face in your hands to meet his gaze. “With my life, baby. It’s them, I don’t trust. Seein’ that prick with his hands on ya… just saw fuckin’ red. Shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like them,” he mutters, tearing his gaze from yours.

“I know, Joel, but shit happens. I promise you, I’m okay, baby. At least I’ve got a big, strong man to protect me. He did a pretty good job tonight,” you playfully hum, eliciting a breathy laugh out of him. “Yeah, you think he did good?” He asks, going along with your bit. “Mhmm, seeing him fuck up that guy for me was so sexy. I knew I had to have him,” you say, biting back a toothy grin.

“He’s a lucky man, darlin’.” You smirk, playfully teasing him, “actually, I think I’m the luckiest. He’s great at eating pussy, I wish he was doing that right now. He promised me more earlier.”

Joel’s brows quirk. “Careful now, baby. You know what happens when you act like a brat now, don’t you, darlin’?” “Mhmm, that’s why I’m acting like one,” you giggle. He growls as he pulls back from you, unhooking your bra and yanking your thong and stockings down in one swift motion.

He trails kisses up and down your body, sinking his teeth into that spot right below your ear, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You’re gonna get it now, little girl,” he rasps, sending a shiver down your spine.

Nipping at your neck and pressing a kiss to your chin, he snakes his battered hand down your body, landing on your sex. He spreads your lips and gathers your slick on his fingers, sucking them into his mouth once more. “My favorite fuckin’ meal in the world, I gotta have a taste, baby,” he hums. 

He swiftly crouches on his knees at the edge of the bed. You yelp as he drags you down with him to position himself in front of your pussy. You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him take in the sight of your weeping cunt. His eyes are black, blown wide with lust. You feel heady, panting as the world becomes muffled just like the music playing outside the room. 

Anticipation blooms in your belly as Joel presses kisses to your inner thighs and works his way up to your pussy. One kiss to your lips has you throwing your head back, moaning. Joel continues to kiss your lips and avoid your clit. Not quite giving it the attention you’re looking for. You buck your hips up into his face, seeking relief.

He pushes them back down, pinning you to the bed with his uninjured hand. “Uh uh, none of that. I’m gonna give ya what ya want, baby girl, just gotta be patient. C’mon, be a good girl for me, sweetheart,” he says between your thighs. You moan, mindlessly nodding at his words.

A soft smack is pressed to your hips. “C’mon, baby girl, lemme hear you. Use your words. Ya gonna be a good girl for me?” You lift yourself up again, eyes hooded as you look at Joel. “Yes, Joel. Gonna be your good girl,” you whine.

“Atta girl,” he rasps. No warning, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips and onto your clit. Your eyes fly open, “Joel,” you gasp. He hums as he slowly flicks your clit with his tongue. The relief is intoxicating. He laps at the new wave of slick dripping from your pussy, moaning into you. Him getting off on eating you out makes you even wetter.

He licks through folds, gathering more of your juices on his tongue. “Feels s-so, so good, baby,” you stutter. He moves to fuck his tongue in and out of you, moaning at the way you clench at the tip of his tongue as a high-pitched moan escapes you. “M-more, Joel, more!” You yelp, tears welling in the corners of your eyes.

You gasp as he presses two thick fingers onto your pulsating clit, flicking it relentlessly as he fucks his tongue into your sopping core. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, Joel, fuck right there, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, eyes squeezed shut. 

He groans into you, your words sending a bead of precum leaking down his cock - the vibration sends you tumbling over the edge. He laps at your cum like a starved man, wasting no drop as you ride out your orgasm.

You barely have time to register what’s happening while you come down from your high as Joel manhandles you off the mattress and into his arms again. 

“Turn around,” Joel snarls, gripping you by the waist as he lifts you off him, helping you reposition yourself in his lap, his angry cock brushing against your slit. 

You both hiss at the contact, your back pressed against his chest now. You rut your hips into Joel’s seeking relief. Joel tightly grasps your hips. “Did I say you could move?” His voice is husky in your ear, it sends a shockwave to your aching core.

You still. “Good girl.” You whimper at his praise. Joel brings a hand around and brushes two fingers against your lips. You suck them into your mouth. 

“Mmm, such a good girl, baby. Doing what you’re supposed to without me asking,” he says. You hum around them, hollowing out your cheeks. 

Joel pulls them out and you whine at the loss of contact, your frustration growing. A gasp escapes you when he swiftly presses his warm, wet fingers against your throbbing clit. 

You moan loudly, involuntarily wriggling in his grasp. He presses a smack to your thigh. “Stop moving, little girl.” 

Mustering all your strength to stay still, you sit atop him. His leaking, swollen head dribbling precum onto your ass as you settle in his lap, his fingers still pressed against your aching clit. “F-feels so g-good, baby,” you huff, breathless from the stimulation.

“Mmmm, yeah, pretty girl?” Joel hums. “Uh-huh,” is all you manage to say. Joel moves his fingers from your clit down to your soaked folds. “If you be good and stay still for me, baby, I'll fill you up. ‘S that what this pretty pussy needs, huh? My pretty pussy need my fingers?” You throw your head back against his chest, “yes, Joel. N-need your f-fingers,” you gasp.

Mustering all the strength in your being, you sit as still as you possibly can, awaiting your reward. Joel resumes flicking your clit as he snakes his other hand down to your dripping hole and teasingly prods his thick fingers at your entrance. “Think you’ve been a good girl, baby? Think you deserve my fingers?” He taunts, swirling circles just outside where you need him most. 

“Yes, Joel, please, I need them, baby, need you,” you beg, huffing all in one breath, completely flustered from his teasing. “Such a good girl, I don’t even gotta ask you to beg,” he smirks.

He shoves two thick fingers in your aching core, gasping as he fills you up. He fucks them in and out of you, curling them with each stroke as he lightly brushes your g-spot from the angle. He has you seeing stars.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant, gasping for air as he brings you closer to your orgasm. Suddenly, he pulls them out of you and his other hand leaves your clit. Tears well in your eyes, you grow frustrated from being edged. Without warning, Joel lifts you up and settles you on his angry, throbbing cock, leaking with precum everywhere.

You gasp as his thick, leaking cock enters you in one swift motion, filling you to the brim. “Fuck, baby. So goddamn tight.” You whimper at the delicious sting of the stretch, never fully getting used to his size no matter how many times you’ve fucked.

You slowly lift yourself off his cock to adjust to his size only for Joel to slam you back down, eliciting a scream from you. Your vision goes fuzzy for a second before coming to your senses.

The pain from the sting morphs into pleasure as you begin to bounce up and down on his cock at an eager pace. Moaning with your head thrown back against his sweaty bare chest, you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Atta girl, babydoll. Fuck look at you. You look so fuckin’ sexy, look at yourself. Open your eyes and look at how well you take my cock, baby,” he rasps, roughly grabbing your face in his battered hand to lift your head up to face the mirror in front of the bed.

Your eyes flutter open, looking into the mirror at where Joel pumps in and out of your cunt. The wet squelch and the sight of him fucking into you has you clenching around him.

Joel moans in your ear as you squeeze him, spurring you on to keep bouncing. He brings a hand to your chest and cups your breast, aggressively pinching your nipple. 

You wail at the sensation and throw your head back, wrapping your arm around his neck to tug at the hairs at the nape. He sucks on the column of your neck, biting hard into your sensitive flesh as he toys with your nipples.

Sloppily grinding on his cock, you begin to lose your strength. “Joel, please,” you plead. “Come on, babydoll. Know ya can do better than that if you’re gonna beg for it. You did it earlier,” Joel taunts as he pulls your hair to reveal more of your neck to him, a bruise blossoming. 

“Please, Joel. N-need more. Need you to, hah, need you to fuck me, please! Please fuck me, baby,” you sob, desperate tears falling down your face. “That’s better,” he rasps.

He takes over, relentlessly fucking up into you. “Fuck, Joel,” keening as he destroys your cervix. The angle has him so deliciously deep, your third orgasm quickly approaching. 

“Fuck, baby, y’look so goddamn pretty bouncin’ on my cock. ‘S like you were made f’me.” He snakes a hand over your tummy, pressing down on it.

You gasp sharply at the pressure. The tight hold on your stomach and the way he’s crashing into your g-spot is too much. Your bodies stuck together with cum and sweat. 

Speechless at the newfound pressure, your vision is spotty with stars, eyes rolling back so hard you go cross-eyed, a writhing mess in his vice grip. His large, calloused hands roaming your body.

“Fucked you so dumb, your fuckin’ eyes are crossed. ‘S matter, baby? Cat got your tongue? You were begging just a minute ago for more,” Joel says, smug as his nose nudges the back of your head as he nibbles on your earlobe. You mumble incoherently through your moans as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder.

An unfamiliar pressure rises in your belly, only feeling this sensation with Joel once while he went down on you in the beginning of your relationship. You try to muster the strength to keep your eyes open, but the pressure is overwhelming. 

You’re squeezing Joel in a vice grip. “Fuck, baby! Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight, you’re close. I can feel it,” he grunts, ruthlessly bucking his hips up into yours. The pressure burns white hot as he hits your g-spot with every stroke. The coil in your belly snaps, your cunt gushing all over Joel with no warning, wailing through your climax.

Joel groans in pleasure, smug and proud of himself for making you squirt. “Oh good girl, good fuckin’ girl, baby,” he drawls while fucking you through the high of your orgasm. Him following close behind, his pace growing sloppy. You can feel him twitch against your fluttering walls.

“Fill me up, Joel,” you gasp, still riding out the waves of your orgasm. “Yeah, you want my cum, baby? Look at me ‘n tell me whose pussy this is. Then, I’ll fill you up,” he taunts.

“Yours, Joel. It’s all yours. I’m yours, baby,” you slur, struggling to keep your eyes open as you watch him in the mirror. “What was that last part, sweetheart? Didn’t catch that. Who do you belong to, pretty girl?” He smirks, fighting off his own release until you say what he wants to hear.

“You, Joel,” you whine, the overstimulation setting in. “Say it again,” he growls. “You, baby, you!” You shout, and that’s all it takes to send him over the edge. He shoots his warm load into you, coating your aching walls. There’s so much, it’s leaking out onto your thighs mixing with your own release. 

Joel’s breath stutters as he comes down from his high and sees how big of a mess the two of you made. His cum leaks out of you, mixing with your slick and dribbling into the puddle of your release beneath you. He reaches in between your thighs and gathers cum on his fingers. 

“Open your mouth, baby,” he says huskily in your ear. He brushes his fingers against your lips. You welcome them into your mouth, too fucked out to protest. You moan at the taste of the two of you as you suck the cum clean off his fingers.

He pulls his fingers out, turning your head to face him. He crashes his lips into yours in a heady kiss. Your head spins as he groans into your mouth, letting him taste the tangy, salty mixture of the two of you. You pull apart for air, the sound of muffled rock music and panting fills the air.

Your gaze meets Joel’s, a shy chuckle escaping you. “We made a huge mess,” you giggle. Joel goes beet red and breaks out into a toothy grin. “We did. ‘M sorry about your dress, darlin’. Promise I’ll buy ya another one.” You playfully roll your eyes. “It’s okay, Joel. I’m just trying to figure out how I’m gonna get out of here with no clothes,” you tell him. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through. You can wear my button-up, I’ve got a work shirt in the car, darlin’,” he offers while pressing a kiss to your shoulder before lifting you off him. You both hiss at the loss. Joel sets you down on the bed, padding to the bathroom rummaging in the cabinets for something.

He returns with a damp washcloth, wiping up the mess you two made off your lower half. You hiss at the sensation when he cleans up your used cunt. “Sorry, honey,” he says while carefully cleaning you up. “It’s okay." He cleans you up in silence, padding to the bathroom to discard the washcloth while you lay back on the bed.

He joins you in bed, sighing as he settles in next to you. You wrap your arms around his middle as he rests his arm behind your neck, rubbing small circles on your arm with his finger.

"What are we gonna tell Jas?" You ask. He whips his head to look at you, the two of you staring at each other for a moment. You two burst into a fit of laughter.

"We'll figure it out together, darlin'. Like we always do," he sighs.

You stare up at him, eyes glazed over, "like we always do."

taglist: @pedrospartner @littlegrungegirlaf @morallyinept @pedrodascal @party-hearses @tinygarbage @bastardmandennis @janaispunk @lizzie-cakes @harriedandharassed

thank y’all sm for reading! 🫶🏼

[ohdeerfully]

Mutual Dilemma (ii)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii(you are here!) TW: None! Other than a pretty ooc alastor (,:

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Morning couldn’t come slower as you anticipated the trip to Rosie’s Emporium. You managed to get a few licks of sleep throughout the night, though nerves kept waking you. As soon as the time was reasonable, not too early as you worried to bother Rosie if you came right as she opened her shop, you quickly got ready and left the Hotel. You gave brief excuses as you hurried by Charlie and a few of the other guests lingering in the lobby—Alastor was notably gone.

“Welcome t- Oh! Hey you!” Rosie’s thrilled voice filled the Emporium as a light bell dingled when you pushed the door open. She swept you up in a tight hug, trapping your arms uncomfortably against your sides as you breathlessly laughed and said your own greetings.

She held you out from herself, both hands firmly planted on your shoulders. You noticed a strange look in her expression—a light quirk in her brow and a sly curve to her smile that implied she knew something important.

“How lucky to see two of my dearest friends in the same 24 hours,” She sighed theatrically, and you knew she had to be referring to Alastor—just the demon you were here to talk to her about. She was, unsurprisingly, able to pick up on your uncomfortable demeanor and her smile dropped into a comforting grin as she led you away to a table against the wall.

“Rosie,” You groaned after sitting, putting your forehead against the cool wood and covering your head with your arms. “I’m so fucked.”

The Overlord held one of your hands softly and comfortably, encouraging you to continue but remaining otherwise quiet.

“You’re going to call me nuts, and don’t worry I already know, but, I, ah,” You grimaced. Saying it out loud was somehow even harder than accepting it within yourself. “I think I really… really like Alastor. Like I want to kiss him.”

Rosie’s hand tightened briefly against yours and you heard her intake a sharp breath while her other hand flew to cover her mouth. You turned your head so your cheek was flat against the wood as you peeked up at her. You couldn’t tell if she was smiling or not behind her hand.

“An odd place to be, certainly,” She nodded after a minute, though a small smile remained. You released a breath when you were certain she wasn’t about to laugh at you or scold you for being so stupid as to be attracted to Alastor. She stood up, pulling you along so that you stood next to her. Her hand still held yours, lifting it and cusping her other hand around it. “These feelings are normal, I think. I mean, look at all the cannibals in town that constantly swoon over him! He’s positively charming—I couldn’t blame ya! Though I have… the strangest feeling you have nothing to worry about.”

What a weird thing to say, you frowned curiously at her words, but your thoughts were cut short as you saw her expression perk with an idea she refused to share. You didn’t like when she got that sly look in her black eyes.

“I have a few errands to run, but why don’t you meet me for lunch later? At the diner down the street.”

You nodded and the two of you shared another hug before you left. You crossed your fingers the whole way back to the hotel that you wouldn’t run into Alastor.

◈

Right, that’s what ended you up here. It seems crossing your fingers means absolutely nothing in Hell. You stood frozen, hand violently clenched into a fist against your thigh. Across from you, just a few feet past the wire table, stood Alastor, a similarly shocked look in his eyes though he somehow managed to look more relaxed. You pinned it on the decade of manipulation in Hell that trained him to look so natural in weird situations.

“What an unexpected pleasure to see you here,” Within a blink he was back to his usual demeanor, approaching you with a pleasant tone; the radio effect in his voice was heavier than usual, which you knew was usually caused by stress or frustration on his part. You decided not to think too hard about the fact he was upset at seeing you in a desperate attempt to protect your heart.

“I’m… I was gonna get lunch with Rosie,” You explained, trying not to cower underneath his looming figure. Did he do this on purpose? Loom? 

Alastor tilted his head at you, quirking a brow. “Curious, I was too.”

You both didn’t say anything for a moment. Your mouth opened to say something, but you honestly weren’t sure what to say so you just closed it again.

A familiar cannibal demon—you thought you recognized her as an aid in Rosie’s Emporium—bustled up to the two of you and threw out her arm, manicured nails nearly pinching holes into the paper. Her hands shook slightly as she held her head low, casting a few glances Alastor’s way. It was endearing, almost, the effect he held on all the equally deranged cannibals in the town. Though, you suppose you weren’t any better than them at this point.

“Thanks, Remi,” Her name came to you in a stroke of luck as you took the note. She nodded and scampered away with a light squeal, and you noticed a small huddle of girls waiting for her return with expectantly bated breaths. You heard them all run off giggling as you read the note.

“It’s from Rosie…” You explained in a slight mumble as your eyes trailed over the paper. Your lips spread into a thin line as you grimaced. You pinched your fingers against the bridge of your nose as you handed Alastor the note. Of course she’d do some shit like this. “She got caught up in something. I guess. She told us to hangout instead.”

Alastor hummed as he read through the note. He folded it neatly and tucked it away in a shirt pocket. 

“Well, seeing as I cleared some time in my schedule for this… I’ve nothing better to do.”

You nodded, agreeing with a similar statement. So much for girl-talk therapy.

You both approached the table and he, always the gentleman, pulled out the chair for you to sit before he took his own seat. The silence was unbearably awkward—for you, at least. He probably had no care in the world. There was a light hum rumbling from his throat, and he glanced around, watching the surroundings. Every time his eyes met yours, you would both quickly look another way.

You had noticed a few different waiters rush by your table, side-eyeing Alastor in particular before scrambling to, at least you assumed, find another waiter to cover the table. You sighed and idly played with a hole in the wire-mesh tabletop.

“So, how’s our dear Charlie’s new plan coming along?” Alastor finally decided to carry the weight of striking up a conversation and you perked up a bit. You loved to talk about Charlie and her ideas—you cherished her friendship and kindness with your whole being. Plus, you were also just excited to interrupt that painful silence.

“Oh! Good so far! At least, on paper,” You rubbed your arm sheepishly. You tried not to stumble over your words as you saw how intently he was watching you, red eyes almost glowing in intensity. “They… never really turn out as planned… as I’m sure you’ve noticed…”

He responded with a bitter laugh, and your shoulders suddenly felt less tense as a more natural flow of conversation started. It was still, obviously, a bit strange and there was still a sense of unease considering the nature of the Overlord you spoke to, but you nonetheless appreciated the relative ease of getting along with him.

A waiter came and went during your conversation, and you had to interrupt your laugh at a joke Alastor had made to order yourself a tea. Alastor got himself a coffee. 

“Would you look at the time,” Alastor suddenly said after you sipped on your drinks for a while. He didn’t carry a watch with him; instead, he had cast his face up to the sky and observed it was getting rather dark.

“Holy shit!” You looked at an actual watch, realizing the two of you had been chatting for ours. Your chest felt weightless and you held back a wide smile when you saw how long you were able to just sit and talk to Alastor. “Damn, yeah, Charlie’s probably worried by now.”

Alastor stood and, just as before, pulled out the seat for you as you stood. The two of you walked next to each other at a slower than natural pace, as if you both wanted to linger just a bit longer in each other’s presence—though, that was honestly probably just you. He was likely just being polite.

“Maybe it’s good our plans with Rosie didn’t go as… planned…” You said slowly, carefully, peeking at him from the corner of your eye. You were somewhat starting to doubt if he had equally enjoyed your time together, or if he was just playing along since he knew Rosie was keen on you.

“Agreed,” He simply responded. He was quiet for a beat before he continued. “Surprisingly I find your company quite enjoyable.”

You decided not to comment on the ‘surprisingly’ part and just flashed him a light smile before focusing your attention on the sidewalk, kicking at a rock with each step. It was silent again, but this time it was more comfortable. Alastor was humming again, and you felt a prickling of goosebumps as you listened to his voice.

You wished it could always be like this. You and him. Though you were certain that was an impossible reality—it was Alastor, after all. You tried not to think about it in order to enjoy the experience now.

A misplaced kick at the rock made you trip, and you mentally cursed yourself as you stumbled forward. How fucking embarrassing was this going to—your scrambled thoughts were interrupted when Alastor caught you, his surprisingly strong arm snug around your torso as he pulled you steady. 

A tight-lipped smile and a quiet “thanks” was all you could awkwardly do in return. It took you a moment to notice his arm was still around you, and once you looked down at it he seemed to realize this too and slid it away. Are you going crazy, or did he seem reluctant to let go? You wanted to smack yourself till your mind cleared, but the ghost feeling of his arm against you was sending a fire through your skin.

“You walk like a fresh-born fawn,” He joked, averting his face away from you as he straightened the cuff of his sleeve. “Watch where you step. I might not be able to catch you next time.”

You didn’t respond and just kept walking, face hot from shame after tripping over such a minor thing. Alastor now walked notably closer to you, his hand almost brushing against yours with every step. At some point the back of his hand did graze against your own, and had you not been expecting it you probably would’ve jumped. Alastor, on the other hand, did seem to stiffen at the contact but he didn’t move.

Finally the hotel was in sight, and before you knew it the Overlord was pushing open the door and offering you to enter first. He led you to your room and you both stood in the hallway, your own breath bated with anticipation as you rapidly tried to find something to say. You didn’t want this to just be a one-and-done deal.

Silence again.

It didn’t help that his eyes had a red glow in the dark of the silent hall—anybody else would find it intimidating, but… man… you felt your cheeks get a bit hot.

Did he just take a step closer? You honestly couldn’t tell, but the buzzing in your ears from his radio afflicted being seemed to grow in intensity and he seemed to be looming over you a bit more. There was a sinister look in his eyes, but you couldn’t tell if it was due to malice or… something else. You really couldn’t tell, but you couldn’t find yourself scared of him. 

Maybe you should be.

Something about being against the wall with the looming figure of the Radio Demon, who you honestly couldn’t tell if he just made another step closer, made you feel like prey being toyed with by a cruel hunter. You would be lying to yourself if you said it wasn’t thrilling.

“Maybe I can pencil in a regular lunch with you every week,” He said suddenly, breaking the growing tension. “Despite your average looks–” Okay, rude. “–you are quite the character.”

“Uh, yeah, I’d like that,” You said, averting your face to hide the growing heat on your skin that gave away your current mental state. If Alastor noticed, he made no indication of it as he clapped his hands together once.

“Well, then, goodnight!” He said, all too cheerfully given the atmosphere barely thirty seconds ago. “We can talk about it tomorrow.”

You nodded wordlessly before bidding him goodnight and reaching behind your back to turn the knob. You stumbled back into the empty space as you waved bye, him reciprocating with a small wave back, before shutting the door with a soft click. You pressed your forehead against the wood, quietly catching your breath you didn’t even realize had been held that whole exchange.

The aura of radio static seemed to linger at your door for a little longer than necessary, and you assumed Alastor was still standing there. It was maybe a minute before he finally left. Your legs felt weak and wobbly as you walked to your bed, falling face first into the sheets. You grabbed a fistful of pillow, screamed into it, and stood back up to get ready for bed.

A feeling of giddiness rose in your chest as you looked at your reflection, and you couldn’t help the grin that crept up your lips. You wouldn’t overthink it too much—you didn’t want to lead yourself astray—but… if you didn’t know any better… you could almost say Alastor felt at least a fraction of mutual feelings towards you.

You just hoped you wouldn’t screw it up.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect.  If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist for Series

Masterlist

************************

Philadelphia 1935

"Stop fidgeting." Your mother snaps under her breath as you pull at the high collar of the monstrosity covering your body. Not one inch of skin is visible, the high collar, long sleeves, and knee-length skirt hid every shred of your body from view. It made you feel like you were drowning in chiffon all the while being choked to death.

"But mother it's itchy-"

"I don't care." She snarls, lip curling back. "It makes you look presentable and you need to focus on greeting your guests."

You sigh and look back over the groups of people that flood through the front doors of your home and into the living room. Waiters in sharp uniforms weave through the crowd with trays of appetizers, glasses of wine and champagne, and slices of birthday cake. Most of the guests were friends of your parents, and had begun flocking to the wet bar in the corner that your mother set up. Your brother and his new wife were standing in the corner of your large sitting room surrounded by groups of their friends.

Your sister-in-law smiles as she catches your eye. She was one of the nicest people you knew, perfectly matched with your older brother, who looked at her like she was his entire world. They had only courted for a month before they both realized it was love and against your parent's insistences for them to wait, had been married. But they were so blissfully happy together that it made your heart ache for the same.

You wondered if there would ever be a day that Ben looked at you that way.

"Good evening Mrs. y/l/n." Howard appears in the doorway, reaching out to kiss your mother's hand. He's wearing the same sand-colored suit as he was earlier in the park.

"Mr. Stine. Lovely to see you this evening." She curtsies graciously and glares at you to do the same. "We are happy you could make it tonight."

"I was honored to receive an invitation." His eyes drift to you. "Ms. y/l/n." He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. His hand is clammy and you try not to make a face.

Ben still hadn't shown up. Which meant that he was either out drinking and he forgot, fighting with his father again, or he was waiting to make his grand entrance.

You really hoped that he hadn't forgotten. When he dropped you off at your home a few hours prior to the party, he said something about going to get a drink and changing. What you'd wanted to say was, didn't you have enough earlier, but you didn't.

The few hours before the party had been harrowing, filled with your mother snapping at you whenever you complained about her pulling the corset too tight, jerking your hair, or rubbing the lotions and ointments into your skin too roughly.

"Would you like to dance?" Howard asks you with a smile.

"Um-" You begin to say.

"Of course she would!" Your mother says all but shoving you forward into Howard's arms.

He leads you away to the sitting room. Your mother had the staff clear out all the furniture to make room for a string band in the corner and a dance-floor. There were already a few couples swaying back and forth to the soft tones that flitted through the air on wings.

Howard pulls you against him awkwardly, one of his hands tightening on your waist, the other clasping your left hand  in his sweaty right. Everything about dancing with him feels wrong. The way your bodies move together, the smell of his cologne is unfamiliar, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and the way his feet sporadically knock into yours, that are pinched tight in a pair of heels that make you taller than Howard. The dance you share is filled with silences that you can't avoid.

Silence.

"You look really nice." Howard tries.

"Thank you."

Silence.

"So, um- you like to paint." Howard says with a strained smile.

"I do."

Silence.

"Did you see President Roosevelt's plans for the Social Security Administration? I think that it will definitely help with taxation and the living situations in America!" Howard smiles.

"Um. No I didn't."

Silence.

It shouldn't be this hard to talk to other people. You think to yourself. When you and Ben talked, there were never any uncomfortable silences, if anything sometimes the silence was nice. The one between Howard and you felt like it was big enough for an oil tanker to pass through.

You heard a commotion at the front door and raise your eyes to look over Howard's head, and feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Ben is standing there, his arm looped tightly with Missy Callahan.

Missy was your best friend in grade school, but you quickly realized that it wasn't your friendship she was interested in, it was Ben. And as soon as Ben realized that she was interested in him, he all but jumped at the chance. Ben and her spent time together on and off over the past few years since the three of you were thirteen. And as much as you wished that they wouldn't spend any time together, you couldn’t come up with a way to voice your displeasure to Ben without telling him that you loved him.

You tried not to compare the way she looked to you. Her beautiful blonde hair fell in effortless waves down her back, her figure was slim, her eyes an enchanting blue that captured anyone under her gaze, and her steps so graceful she seemed to float across the ground rather than walk. Her voice was musical and lofty, accentuated by her timeless features, perfect cupid bow mouth, and wide eyes that always seemed full of stars and innocence. Tonight she was wearing a sleek red dress that cupped her body in a way that made everyone else in the room look like they were wearing potato sacks.

Of course you knew she was more than innocent. You'd caught her on several occasions saying terrible things about you, but the feeling was mutual. Her snide comments about how you looked and what you wore used to hurt more than they did now. But when Ben was around, she was perfectly kind to you, overly sweet that it made you want to choke her out of frustration.

You watch the two of them come through the front door, and notice Ben's eyes survey the room. You fight the urge to duck and run to hide the horrible dress. You know that he's looking for you and deep down you hope also he doesn't see you with Howard. But at the same time you know that what you’re about to do is much worse.

"Howard." You force yourself smile at him, dropping your eyes to the man dancing with you.

"Yeah?"

"Will you twirl me?" You lean towards him as if he's everything you wanted. Deep down you feel like a terrible person for using him like this, but you didn't want to be lonely. And when Ben was with Missy, that's exactly how you felt, lonely.

"Of course." Howard's smile breaks your heart. He twirls you away, and as he does, you catch Ben's eyes momentarily. You see something flit through them that you notice is the same emotion he had earlier when your mother wrapped that coat over your shoulders earlier, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

When you land back against Howard's chest, you ignore how wrong he fits against you, and instead you giggle.

"So Howard, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask him, ignoring the feeling of Ben's gaze on you.

"Well, I've been researching the steel industry and trying to predict how it will bounce back-" Howard begins to slip quickly into a monologue about the United States steel production and the possible growth in the coming years.

Oh boy. He continues to speak while you sway to the music and you immediately begin to regret everything you've done in the past few minutes. At least he can multi-task.

You hoped that Ben and Missy weren't still standing there watching you, if they were Missy was probably laughing at you.

Finally, Howard stops talking and leads you over to the living room where people have begun to clump up and talk with one another. A waiter walks over with a tray full of birthday cake and just as you reach for a slice Missy materializes on your right like the devil on your shoulder.

"Y/n!" She smiles wide, saying your name with fake cheer. "I had no idea you would be here!"

"It's my birthday party." You say, voice slipping into a monotone.

"Oh well Benjamin didn't say anything about why we were coming here. Just said party and well, here I am." You hate the way she says his name, like she's emphasizing the fact she has him and you don't. "What an interesting dress!" Her eyes skate down the abomination your mother picked out.

"Thanks." You reply through gritted teeth.

She leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Do you really think birthday cake is a good idea?"

Your cheeks blaze bright red and just as you open your mouth to tell her exactly where you’d like to shove the birthday cake, Ben appears beside her.

"Hey."

"Hi." You don't bother to make your voice cheery.

When I sent you a birthday invitation I didn't say you could bring a plus one, and especially not this bitch. You try to say with your eyes.

"Did you have a nice dance Howie?" Ben turns his eyes on Howard, who stiffens at the use of the nickname.

"Yes we did." You answer for him and take Howard’s hand.

Something flashes in Ben's eyes when you use the word "we."

"Oh Benjamin, I love this song! Let's dance." Missy says, grabbing Ben's wrist and pulling him away.

You stand there and watch them dance for a moment, noticing how closely they're pressed together, how Ben's grip on her waist tightens as they sway back and forth, how Missy's head rests against the smooth fabric of his black jacket. An irrational amount of jealousy crashes over you as you watch them dance together, but you can't look away. It's like a trainwreck.

Well, couldn't look away until Missy catches your eye and shoots you a smirk that makes you consider all the places in Philadelphia you can hide a body. The list is detailed and quite long, considering you'd been working on it for as long as you'd known Ben.

"Y/n?" Howard says.

"Hmm?" You turn to look at him. "Sorry I was-" Thinking about all the ways to kill Missy. "Lost in thought."

"I asked if you wanted a piece of cake." Howard smiles and you hate that you feel absolutely nothing when he does. There's no butterflies, no tightening in the center of your chest, no warmth tracing through your body like fingertips flaring against your skin. You hated that's what happened when Ben smiled at you.

You think about what Missy said about the birthday cake, looking once more at her statuesque figure that bends gracefully away from Ben as he dips her, and shove the thought away. "Sure."

**************************

You sit on the end of your bed, but you don't reach for your sketchpad, you were too angry for that.

Ben had barely said two words to you beside the hello that you shared when he came to your birthday party with the most odious girl alive, of course that didn't mean that you lost them in the crowds of people. And that also meant that you'd seen him and her making out in one of the dark corners of the living room.

Anger, frustration, and jealousy swirl together and congeal into a ball in the pit of your stomach. You were angry at Ben for bringing her, jealous of Missy that she was the one who got to be with Ben, and frustrated at yourself for your inability to tell Ben the truth.

Why can't tell him? You sigh. And then what? I tell him and he immediately cuts me out of his life? Your eyes trace the room around you and fall back on your bed. Your bedroom always seemed too big without him, the bed cold, and the  room dark. It made the whole in your heart open up when he wasn't there.

You hated how much you needed him and how much you depended on Ben showing up in your life. You wondered if he needed you too.

The memory of him and Missy in the corner, with his hands on her hips and his lips fused to hers, darts across your mind and makes you pluck a pillow from the head of your bed and scream into it.

It doesn't help.

"Hard day?" Someone asks.

"What are you doing here Ben?" You sigh, not needing to look up to know that its him.

He's standing with his feet on your window seat as he comes in from the ledge.

"Thought I'd stop by. We didn't get to talk much at the party." He shrugs.

You try not to look at how his lips are a little pinker than usual and how his hair is sticking up in the back like someone has run their fingers through it.

Damn Missy.

"Well I noticed you were plenty occupied. I guess it's hard to talk with your tongue shoved down Missy's throat." You huff, practically kicking off your shoes. It's a miracle that they don't hit him when he climbs down from the widow seat.

The image of him and Missy Callahan in the corner of your living room kissing flashes over your mind again and makes your temper flare red hot against your skin. The jealousy that electrifies in your veins you know is unwarranted. Ben wasn't yours. You didn't have a claim to him just because you were friends. Just friends. Great friends. And you knew that he didn't feel that way about you.

But how can he not see me as more? How can he spend so much time with me and only see me as a friend? You wanted to scream. All those times falling asleep talking with one another, all the times we woke up in the early morning pressed against one another. How can Ben not want to be more?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous Doll." Ben smirks.

"Of what? Missy Callahan? Please-" You blow a raspberry, even though it's unladylike and you know that if your mother was there she would slap you for doing so. "I don't know what you see in that vapid self-centered debutante. I doubt the two of you can find anything to talk about-"

"Well we don't do much talking. And you and Howard looked plenty cozy together." Ben's smirk turns more into a taunt and this time it makes you want to slap your best friend, but you hold yourself back. "But you sure sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" You snap, tugging at the collar of your dress in frustration, both at Ben and at the material in your hands. "Damn it!" You curse, not at Ben, but continue tug at the collar of the dress. Despite wanting to take it off, you hadn't been able to do it by yourself and your mother was busy ordering the waiters downstairs clean up, and it was getting harder to breathe and not to mention terribly hot.

"You doing okay there sweetheart?" Ben's smirk shifts to a worried expression.

"No I can't breathe." You choke out.

Ben immediately steps forward before you can stop him and unzips the back of your dress. It pools at your feet, making your breath catch, leaving you in the tight white corset that was causing you to asphyxiate. Although it went to your knees you still felt almost naked. Ben had only seen you in nightgowns, but it didn't mean that he hadn't felt your curves pressed against him in the morning when you woke up together.

The corset your mother insisted was necessary to shave down your hips, flatten your butt, and squeeze your breasts so tight against your chest that each time you took in a breath you weren't able to expel it.

Ben doesn't look away from your face, but it looks as if it's causing an amazing amount of effort for him to do so. "Do you want me to loosen it?" He rumbles. His jaw clenches with his words, and a darkness blooms in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine.

"Yes." Your voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else.

Ben turns you in his arms slowly as if gauging your reaction, before you feel his fingertips trail down your spine as he begins to loosen the ties on the back. The tingle that follows his fingertips makes your chest as tight as the garment that squeezes you. You try not to think about how many times you imagined this exact scenario, with you and Ben in your bedroom together. Ben turns your body around so that you're looking up at him again, your faces so close that his lips are leveled directly where your hair sprouts from your forehead.

His hands remain on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the material where it rests on your hips, tracing the crest of your pelvis with each stroke, his eyes lock with yours. They are deep and dark and filled with promises that makes you shiver and you're sure he feels. Your own hands have come up between you to rest against his solid chest, admiring the muscle beneath his dark suit. You can't help but notice how he leans forward into your touch as you do and feel the rapid beat of his heart against the palms of your hands. It mirrors your own that feels as though it will break free and flutter away.

"Ben I-" You begin to say.

A loud knocking at your door makes you shove him backwards away from you so hard that Ben stumbles, tripping over the edge of your bed and onto the ground with a loud thud that you try to cover with a cough.

"Who is it?" You ask, voice frantic.

"It's your father."

Your wide eyes lock with Ben's, who doesn't look nearly afraid enough. "Get under the bed-" You whisper-yell.

"I love it when you order me around." Ben smirks as your cheeks flush and his eyes trace your figure one more time in a way that makes you burn.

"Ben!" You hiss.

He crawls under the bed and you grab your bathrobe, wrapping it around yourself before saying "Come in."

Your father enters, a glass of scotch clasped in his hand. His black suit is impeccable, perfectly tailored to him, as it should be, he was, after all, one of the most powerful men in Philadelphia.

His gaze sweeps the room for a moment as if looking for someone, tracing over your bed once, and you think you see the end of his lip quirk for a minute, but then it fades.

"Hi." You smile at him, your cheeks still flushed, heart beat pounding against your ribcage.

Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed.

"I apologize for the intrusion, I just wanted to say goodnight." He crosses the room to hug you with one arm. You can smell the tobacco from his nightly smoke on his jacket. You and your father had always been a bit closer than you and your mother. Especially when you were younger and you'd sit in the parlor at his feet watching him smoke his pipe before bed. Over the past few years you hadn't been able to spend as much time together, and it made you sad to think that you were growing apart from him.

"Did you have a good birthday?"  He pushes back some of the hair that's fallen into your face with a warm smile.

"Yes I did. Ben got me some new brushes and I got to try them out today when we went to the park."

"That was nice of him." Your father smiles for a minute before he takes a sip from his scotch. "I saw you dancing with Howard Stine."

"Yeah. He's…" Boring. "Nice."

"Hmm." Your father nods. "He's from a good family. Your mother certainly thinks that he's suitable-" He pauses. "But I'm not sure he's right for you."

"It was just a dance. I don't think that makes anything official." You laugh.

Please let my future not end with Howard Stine.

Your father shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip of his scotch. "Your mother and I started with just a dance." The look in his eyes changes for a moment and you wonder if he's reliving the memory of them together. It was moments like this when you saw how much your father loved your mother. It was difficult for you to understand given everything that she'd said to you over the years, but it brought you joy that your father was happy. He shakes his head as if pushing it away. "You always seem happier after you've spent time with Benjamin."

Your cheeks flush bright red, knowing that Ben can hear the conversation. "We're just friends."

"Perhaps." His lips twitch. "So you did have fun at the park? Any new paintings?"

"A few."

"May I see?"

Usually you liked when your father looked at your work, but the thought that Ben was hiding under your bed and could be discovered at any minute, set you on edge.

"Sure." You walk around the bed to get your watercolor pad on your bedside table, before holding it out over the bed for your father. And just as he takes it, Ben's large hand fastens around your ankle. You clear your throat, kicking your foot to get him to let go, but he doesn't release it  and you can hear his muffled laugh.

"These are quite something." He flips through the pages, finally stopping on the one of Ben from this morning. "I can't believe he sat still long enough for you to paint him."

"Ben is difficult. ALL the time." You grit out, kicking with your foot again, but he doesn't let go. "And annoying." You grumble low enough for only Ben to hear.

"Yes. I believe that."  Your father hands you back the pad of paper. "But he certainly makes you happy, and that's all I want for you."

"Dad-"

He smiles, but shakes his head at you. "Goodnight darling." Your father turns to walk towards the door before he stops. "Your mother will be coming upstairs in a few minutes, perhaps Ben should not be here when she does." And then he leaves.

Your entire body flushes bright red with embarrassment. HOW DID HE KNOW THAT BEN WAS HERE?

Ben crawls out from under your bed holding back laughter.

"It's not funny!" You snap.

"Kinda funny." He smiles. "Do you think he's going to tell your mom?"

"No. I mean I hope not. I think if he does, she'd nail the window shut and cut the tree down." You stand there for a second. "But you should go if she's coming."

"I could hide in the closet this time, see if she can find me?" Ben jokes.

"It's not hide and go seek or Marco Polo!"

Ben laughs at you, before his expression turns serious. "Are you sure you want me to go?" You know that he's asking you that because he knows that no matter what your mother wants to speak to you about will not end well.

"I'm fine Ben. Go. It'll be okay." You smile despite your rising nerves.

"Okay."

He stands there for another beat, eyes dropping to your robe, and for a second you believe that he's thinking about how you looked a minute ago. Your cheeks flush at the memory, feeling his hands trace your spine to loosen the corset, and then how they felt on your waist. What would have happened if my father didn't come in?

"I'll see you tomorrow. I still have five days of freedom before boarding school number seven and I'd like to spend at least one at a baseball game." He finally says.

"Sounds boring."

"I can always take Missy." He replies smugly.

"And by boring I mean it sounds like everything I've ever wanted." You force a smile.

"That's what I thought."

But before he leaves, he pulls you into a hug.

"Goodnight y/n. Happy Birthday."

"Goodnight Ben." You say into his shoulder.

And then he vanishes out your window without another word, leaving you with the memory of what almost happened, and the rising dread that your mother was going to come in at any minute.

*********************

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

Also, everyone say thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for giving me an idea for this chapter! ❤️

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch

[cocoreallylovesraiden]

lin-kuei trio x chef! reader

pre-events of the mk1 cinematic; mostly with tomas that can be seen as platonic or romantic

ooc-ish? this is just my interpretation on how it would’ve been like before things got bad for the lin kuei

1.5k

You slide the plate of food onto the wooden lazy susan, quickly warning your guests not to touch the plate. Almost immediately, Kuai Liang decides to place his fingers on the plate’s underside.

You step back, unimpressed.

“With all due respect, Kuai Liang. Seriously?”

“You call this hot?”

Kuai Liang’s good-natured smile is useless against you, because yes, you call this hot; you had to carry it the entire way from the kitchen yourself because the Lin Kuei eat with in absolute privacy, and you also did not have FIRE POWERS. So yes, it was hot. You pointedly place one of two bowls of rice you brought before Tomas, who gleefully rubs his chopsticks together.

“Cease your antics, brother.” Kuai Liang chuckles at Bi Han’s almost embarrassed seething.

“Thank you, Bi Han. You get rice.”

The second bowl is (gingerly) placed before him. You would slam it down too for effect, but you would rather not be frozen alive for having bad manners with the new Grandmaster Of The Lin Kuei.

You internally roll your eyes at the title. Whatever, Bi Han was Bi Han at the end of the day. The brothers had come to the teahouse enough times for you to know that if you gave him food, he would be grateful and shut up to eat it- unless he was on another-

Bi Han pushes the bowl to Kuai Liang with a small motion before picking up his chopsticks.

“You’re on another diet.” You exclaim.

Kuai Liang accepts the bowl with a sigh, likely sharing the same sentiment. Tomas takes a morsel of the stir fry and hurriedly shoves it in his mouth to share his piece, but the food is too hot, and he makes a show of cooling his mouth. Bi Han’ sigh mirrors Kuai Liang’s prior one.

These brothers. It was like a chain reaction, where each one of them were disappointed in each other’s behaviour.

“The Grandmaster needs to be in tip-top shape to fit his grandmaster uniform.” Tomas chides. “So that his arms look good in- ACK!”

His statement is cut off by a small mound of rice being shoved into his mouth, courtesy of Kuai Liang. Whatever he meant to say was replaced by yelps of “Hot!” and whining. He eventually turns to you with an expectant look, like he was hoping you would come to his defence.

You shrug. What were you supposed to do? Scold a ninja-extraordinaire for lovingly feeding his brother? No, seriously. Your relationship with these people was extremely conditional, and there was no doubt they would put you in your place if you ever tried to boss them around.

Except Tomas. There was some leeway bossing Tomas around.

“Is there anything you want to eat today- not you Tomas.” You physically push away the cheeky man’s face to maintain your eye contact with Bi Han. “Since you three cleared out the place, my treat.”

Bi Han looked at his empty plate for a moment, as if he suddenly had forgotten every meal he’s ever enjoyed. You kissed your teeth, immediately understanding. You yourself were the oldest child, so you knew how it felt to suddenly be asked what you specifically wanted. Either that, or if he was considering cheating on his diet just to eat your fried pork.

“The sweet pork. That you made last time.”

Yeah, okay. It just was never as emotionally complicated as you expected it to be with him. Well, it was terribly flattering that he’d take up the precious calories to eat what you cooked- though it did make you question Bi Han’s resolve; you had never seen him in battle, so you couldn’t gauge his self-control other than him crumbling at the promise of your cooking.

Either way, you gave him a thumbs up and an appreciative grimace.

“Right away, boss.”

You scuttle back into the teahouse kitchen, where you thankfully had all the ingredients available. Thank God, there was no emergency calling Kung Lao for the delivery of flour or vinegar. What would that phone call sound like, even?

Hey bestie! Hope you’re not too busy harvesting cabbages because I need you to bring me a cup of sugar to make a meal for the grandmaster of an organised family! Yeah Grandmaster! Yeah, ‘family’! Hope to hear back from you soon!

Just as you’d gotten the oil up and frying, the jammed kitchen door tries to open with a groan. You settle the breaded pork into the ladle, throwing it into the bubbling oil with a satisfying sizzle. The door tries to open again, and it gets a little further before inevitably getting stuck once more.

You roll your eyes. With a single outstretched kick, you manage to send the damp wooden door to swing open like it was brand new, leaving Tomas standing there like a kid caught with his hand in the jam pots.

“Maybe we should recruit you into the Lin Kuei.” The silver-haired man allows himself into your kitchen, carefully side-stepping a hemp sack of flour then once again to avoid a crate of bok choy that toppled earlier in the day.

The kitchen was messy, but when there’s only one person to handle a mountain of orders you learn to improvise. It was a strategic layout that only you needed to understand.

“Nice of you to let yourself into my kitchen.”

“Thought I’d keep you company.” A lie. He just wanted to spend some time away from Kuai Liang and Bi Han, an understandable sentiment. The three of them probably spent too much time together leading the Lin Kuei, and Bi Han was insufferably stuffy to share meals with.

You whisked vinegar and sugar in a bowl, but arms worked in autopilot as you stared at Tomas making himself comfortable on the stool near you cooking station. It was comical, watching the tall man fold himself like origami paper to fit perfectly on such a small surface, tucking his knees to his chest and peering up at you like a child.

This stool wasn’t just any old chair, though. After a couple years, people like Tomas and Kung Lao had turned it into the taste tester’s throne since it was convenient for You to just raise your arm and feed them little bits.

As much as you wanted to be a stronger woman, his grey eyes and boyish smile did make your heart clench. He looked so much like San Bing, the stray dog that you fed in the village- they even begged for scraps the same way.

“You do the same thing as Kung Lao.” Tomas huffed at the comparison, resting his chin on the nearby counter’s greasy surface and blinking with his light glittery eyes.

“But cuter, right?”

You balked, almost letting missing your ladle’s handle and gripping scalding metal in shock. How ridiculous did this man get? At his grown age, acting cute just to gain you favour, all in the name for some bits and pieces? Seriously, if these were the values that the Lin Kuei taught, the world was in grave danger.

A tender piece of pork is pulled out the oil and dipped in the sauce, and then shoved in front of Tomas’ face in the effort to stop him from continuing whatever it was he was doing.

“Do that again, and I will ban you from coming in every again.” You gravely state, and it’s funny how quickly Tomas straightens his posture and nods. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

Tomas is also remarkably like San Bing with how he snatches the food into his mouth, chewing loudly in attempt to cool the food down as he eats it. You continue to fix up the rest of the portion while Tomas watches you, sitting obediently on the stool.

Once it’s on a medium-sized dish, Tomas beats you to picking it up.

“This isn’t just for you, greedy.”

“But the plates are hot, right? I’ll bring it over, don’t worry.”

Tomas smiles, nose wrinkling in a way that makes you want to pinch him. You thank him with a pat on the shoulder and helps him open the kitchen door and watch him walk over to his table. You then pretend not to see him slam the dish onto the table and frantically rub his probably burning fingers on Bi Han’s cold arms.

You bite back the growing grin on your face.

As much as you would’ve liked to hang around the three as they ate their meal, you still had an entire kitchen to clean (to the best of your ability) before the teahouse opened again for the dinner rush. You settle for occasionally peeking at the solely occupied table through the kitchen pick-up area, wholeheartedly laughing when Kuai Liang gives you a thumbs up after taking a bite of the pork. Bi Han gives you a nod, which you assume is as close to kissing him on the mouth as it gets. 

Just as you focus fully on preparing your produce, you miss Tomas waving his chopsticks in the air, but hear him enthusiastically call out your name. This time, you let yourself smile fully as you chop away at some carrots.

[tragedy-of-commons]

killjoy

childe x gn!reader | wc: ~1.6k

You catch your boyfriend setting up the cake.

tags/warnings: bday fun, modern & college au, based off of the American College Experience™ sorry, tooth-rotting fluff, teucer is a national treasure, comedy, possibly ooc, reader has hair

notes: for @staarri's 100 followers & bday event <3 trying to write childe was a nightmare but the wheel of doom has spoken. chosen prompt "cruel summer" :)

It has been one hell of a day.

Pop quizzes in two of your classes (that you are now tanking), getting heckled by that same group of protesters, slamming head-first into a glass panel like a pigeon, and then getting splashed by a puddle via a speeding car. 

To give credit where credit is due, you’ve suffered through every incident with class and poise. Despite how you drip with murky street water, the saving grace that is the promise of your warm bed keeps you from inventing new profanities and falling to your knees in the student parking lot.

It’s almost over with, it’s almost over with—

The splintered door of your dorm unit has never looked more welcoming. When your keycard is approved with a click, you heave the barrier between you and uninterrupted sleep wide open. However, what you don’t expect is the little spectacle unfolding in your kitchenette.

Who you belatedly realize is your lovely boyfriend is sticking candles into something - it being quickly shielded from your view as he reacts to your arrival.

“You just had to be early,” he grins, revealing those pearly whites, “Maybe I’ll start calling you ‘Killjoy’.”

“Ajax?” He’s here? Today? But he said— He must notice your sorry state, but he’s wise enough not to mention it. “You really think I’d miss celebrating your birthday in person? Seriously, what kind of partner would I be, just sending you a text? Babe, you gotta start setting some higher standards.”

“Rotten liar,” you mumble, growing smile threatening to split your face in two. 

A small flash of copper peeks around the bedroom-adjoining hallway, hyper. Teucer rushes up in front of his brother, the latter ruffling his hair. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here yet!”

You snort, wondering if anyone else is planning to jump out of the shadows. “My sincerest apologies. I could always leave—”

“No need,” Ajax dismisses the notion with a cavalier wave. “I think we’re all ready, huh Teuce?”

He huffs in agreement, beaming up at you like you hung the moon. “One second!”

Teucer scampers off faster than you can blink, making you bellow a laugh. His energy knows no bounds, necessitating many hours of entertaining his whims. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Happy birthday,” Ajax says softly; wistfully.

You stalk over to him, embracing your boyfriend like he might disappear into thin air without a moment’s notice. “If you broke in, I will be calling campus security.” “You’d never turn me in! Also, we just so happen to still be on the guest card from last week.” You part from his warmth so you can kiss him. He tastes of sugar, the bastard.

“Buttercream?” you place, peering over his shoulder. The sight of a round cake on the counter confirms your suspicions, and your heart swells. He would’ve had to bake and decorate it somewhere else, given that ovens are a luxury you do not possess in college hell. You picture him in his too-nice apartment, piping frosting in the familiar loops of your name. “Yes!” Teucer rushes back in (you note that he’s hiding his hands behind his back), while Ajax pokes your nose. “Big brother spent soooo long on it!”

You snicker deviously. “Really?”

“No reason to lie,” your boyfriend pouts, “Though I’m a bit hurt that you’re both trying to embarrass me, after I went to all this trouble..”

Teucer sticks his tongue out in disgust whenever you console Ajax with another kiss, likely wanting you both to hurry up your gross couple stuff so he can show you his gift. It’s presented to you ceremoniously, and you honor the splendor by pretending not to know that it’s definitely one of his toys. 

Your acting is award-winning, perfectly ignoring the obvious ridges and appendages of a Transformer. After tearing open the paper, you’re told that his name is Mr. Cyclops and you have to take good care of him - your sworn oath.

(Of course, Mr. Cyclops will mysteriously end up back in Teucer’s bedroom if you can count on your partner in crime to help you out. You and Ajax share a Look that hints at conspiracy.)

Speaking of your boyfriend, you don’t think he is governed by even one modicum of shame. During the Happy Birthday song, he performs with his whole chest, much to your chagrin. You think that Ajax lives the most for other people; even if it shines brightest whenever he teases and flusters. His camaraderie is most genuine when he’s this comfortable - when he knows that the present moment is all he needs to focus on. 

When did he start letting his guard down? You find yourself unable to recall among past memories of trudging to the local diner at ungodly hours, cramming for finals at the library, and responsibly talking him down from any antics that would surely get him in trouble.

(Maybe it was when you first held an ice pack over his eye, swollen shut from a punch he shouldn’t have taken just for the thrill of it. Your admonishment must have been jarring, because without any teasing remarks whatsoever, he promised that he’d dial it down. You remember lacing your fingers with his - and promptly threatening to “embalm him with jet fuel” if he ever got hurt again.)

Now your relationship has progressed to the point where spending your first birthday together feels natural. It feels so natural that shitty paper plates stacked high with slices of cake is enough to make you forget that you look like that one damp owl picture. Ajax, as per his boyfriend duties, has to remind you, of course.

“Bad day, huh?” 

You rest your chin on your fist, elbow supported by the armrest of your (comically small) couch. In retrospect, the fleeting illusion of a living room probably wasn’t worth it. Squished into a corner by a dozing Teucer and an awake Ajax, you yawn. “The worst, actually.”

“Well, we can’t be having that,” he tips your chin up to meet azure hues, “Maybe my gift will make you feel better.”

You blink. “Gift? You don’t have to, you know. The little guy’s was plenty enough for me.” 

Ajax spares a fond glance at his little brother, whose head is resting in his lap, legs thrown over the opposite armrest. “Nonsense! If you’re worried about me having bought out a whole store—”

“Don’t tell me you—”

“—Then you have nothing to fret over, Killjoy,” he laughs. “It’s pretty small.”

You don’t suppress the smile that breaks out on your face. “Okay, I’ll bite.”

“Hopefully not too hard.” He’s so annoying. You want to kiss him stupid.

From what you assume is from his back pocket, he removes a black silk pouch before dropping it into your awaiting hand. He was right about it being small, that’s for sure. Toying with the material of it for a moment, you pull open the bag delicately. Ajax tenses. “So.. whaddya think?”

Inside is a brass key that fits into your palm nicely. Of course you’ll love anything he gives you, but you’re unsure of what this could mean. Is it symbolic? Literal? You thumb over the grooves, unsure of what they could possibly unlock. Your head swims with a fuzzy feeling that you don’t entirely hate.

“What’s it to?”

“Our place.”

It’s perfect. You turn the object this way and that way, swallowing. “Giving me my own copy? You realize that you’re gonna be stuck with me crashing at yours way more often, right?”

Your boyfriend wraps a sturdy arm around your shoulder. “It’s not there for you to crash, it’s there for you to stay. I want you to move in with me.”

The following awed silence from you is clearly taken as something else, because Ajax backpedals in that flippant way that belies the panic he’s actually feeling. You need to tell him that it’s okay; that it’s more than okay.

“Of course you can say no, but the rest of your birthday plans kinda hinge on the possibility that you’ll make me the happiest man in the world and say yes,” he amends.

You pay no heed to his theatrics, because all you really need is him. Gross. “Duh, idiot. As much as it kills me to say this, I’d want nothing more.” Ajax glows. “Because you’re head over heels in love with me?”

“No, because I won’t have to drag my ass to the laundromat anymore.”

The offended sound he lets out is muffled with your mouth against his once more, and the tears that roll down your cheeks are obviously not because you’re ecstatic to be so involved in his life. What a preposterous idea.

His hands cradle your face, a little awkward because of the position, but he’s so warm. 

“Killjoy, I have something to confess,” he breathes, pulling back enough so you can see the faint constellation of freckles dotting his features. “You need to start packing immediately, or else the flowers will wilt before you’re able to see them.”

You sigh, happy-sniffling. “Flowers? Is a bouquet perhaps part of these ‘birthday plans’?”

Ajax dries one of his hands stained with your tears off onto his shirt before raking it through Teucer’s curls affectionately. He stirs but does not wake. “Try thirty!”

“Ajax..” The horror in your tone barely disguises the admiration.

“I love you too, Killjoy.”

That night, when you’re both alone in his apartment, tangled in each other’s arms, your overnight bag on the floor - you tell him the same. The few tears he sheds into your hair are also definitely not because you’re finally comfortable enough to say it back. Ridiculous.

taglist: @hanyi-writes, @karagatan02, @bfajax, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[halfdeadfullgay]

404 - Title Not Found (pt/chpt 4)

Part 2 - Tumblr Part 3 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Sneaking out of a gala should be easy enough. Well it is when you can use your powers.

AN: This took way too long to write. I’ll probably edit any mistakes later, just wanted to finally post this.

And always, this is crack treated seriously. This is just for fun and shits and giggles. Excuse any ooc moments and all of that.

Also never been to a gala or fancy party before so I didn’t think any of this is accurate but it fits with the crack treated seriously part of the fic.

————————————

Jason laughed a bit at Danny’s insistence of it being a joke. “Relax, just messing with you.” This guy had peaked his interest before he even knew he was Masters’ godson. Maybe is was a good thing he came to the gala after all.

“So tell me why the godson of Vlad Masters is living down in Crime Alley.” He looked Danny up and down subtly, he really was more put together than the times he saw him out on patrol and doing laundry. He watched as Danny took a second before answering.

He shrugged, “It’s simple.” Jason took note of how his tone changed when it was just them talking, it was the same tone from the day they talked in the laundry room.

“He’s a fruit loop and I don’t like him.”

Jason held back a laugh. “A fruit loop?”

“Yes. A fruit loop. He’s not as bad as he used to be when I was younger but still.” Jason made a mental note of him saying “not as bad as he used to be”. That caught his attention. “But now I gotta know why one of Bruce Wayne’s sons lives in Crime Alley as well.” Danny teased slightly.

He should’ve expected that he would have to answer too. “Just a falling out with him and the rest of my family but we’re trying to reconnect I guess.” It was a small lie. Not the complete truth and not a complete lie.

“I get that. Had a similar thing with my parents. At least yours is trying.” It was obvious that the last part was more joking than actually anything serious.

This guy was interesting. Jason didn’t like Masters at all, both he and Bruce were suspicious of him but Danny didn’t seem to be anything like him. He was actually kinda funny, nice and personally, Jason thought he was a bit dorky.

-

Talking with Jason was better than avoiding Vlad or any of the other gala guests. Danny always forgot how boring these things got after a bit. At least it seemed that Jason was getting bored too. He would rather talk with him than continue to avoid Vlad.

He wasn’t too surprised that Jason also had family issues, it was kinda obvious with how he and Bruce were silently interacting when Vlad had called him over.

Even with him being interesting to talk to, Danny still wanted to leave the gala. He thought it would’ve been fun to mess with guests but Gothimites were used to weirdness, he could maybe at least explore but people kept trying to talk to him and now he was kinda stuck with Jason cause it was still kinda small talk.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asked without thinking. Did he mean to say it? No but if it got him out of the gala, meant as well try. Jason didn’t look like he wanted to be at the gala any longer either.

There was a minute of silence, it looked like he was weighing his options. “Eh, why not. Anything could be better than this.” Danny smiled, glad that he agreed. Now to figure out where to go but mainly how to sneak away.

It would be easy leaving the room but most entrances and exits outside still had press and paparazzi. He could easily just go invisible and intangible but didn’t trust Jason enough to do so.

Danny had snuck out of galas before but that was when it was just him and way more low profile types of galas. “Lead the way out? Like I said, never been to a gala here before.”

He got a small chuckle and an eye roll at that but it seemed like he was going to lead him out.

-

Danny wasn’t too bad of company. It was certainly better than just staying by Bruce and Jason jumped at the chance of knowing him better and hopefully figuring out why he had that strange sense of familiarity from before they had even talked.

He was glad to have been trained by the bat and that Dick told him about all the unseen exits. “Uh huh.” He said a bit sarcastically before grabbing his hand. “C’mon, follow me.”

He led him through the crowds of people, avoiding anyone who would ask questions. Occasionally he’d look and see Danny following closely behind. He looked like a lost dog trying to keep up. Jason thought it was a little funny.

Soon he dragged him out of where the gala was being held and into a dimly lit hall. Fuck, which way did Dick say to turn from here?

“Where to now?” Danny asked, his tone suggesting that he knew well that Jason hadn’t much of a clue at the moment. Sure enough when he looked at him, he had a small teasing grin. It was slightly annoying but he felt his heart skip a beat.

Fuck.

Jason quickly decided to just push that down and aside. No need to dwell on it even though he knew he would over analyze as soon as he got back to his apartment. Right now though, he just needed to remember which turn he was supposed to take in the hall.

Apparently he dwelled on it a little longer when he saw Danny was no longer behind him but now in front and turning right. “C’mon man. Let’s just go this way.” He heard him call out as he disappeared into the hall on the right.

He sighed and reluctantly followed. It wasn’t the most logical choice but it was the more entertaining one.

“Alright, I’m coming.” Jason followed where he went and caught up. “Just don’t get us lost.”

The only response he got from Danny was a shrug and crooked grin.

This should be fun.

[hexgaywire]

hello! (◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉI hope you're having a great day! i wanted to ask if it's okay to make a request (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

I'd like to request where reader is also a streamer and whenever a collab horror stream with vox and hex and (separately), reader's heart beat always speeds up at the start (the game is not on yet and chat can see since she's already set up her heart beat monitor) like at some point chat notices it's a recurring thing that only happens during horror collabs with vox or hex and the chat kinda outs reader to them, and their reaction to that information.

i dunno if that makes sense exactly 😭🥹 (also please do not mind the request it if you're not up to writing 🥹 it's just me projecting how how my heart beats absolutely fast when i hear these two 😞)

I'm here to deliver Hex and Vox brain rot! One thing about me I will always write for Hex if given the opportunity. To preface I have not watched a Vox stream in a moment so I apologize if he seems a little OOC. Mentally I'm still in his ASMR era. Also shout out to Hex Haywire for currently, as of writing this, unable to go live on YouTube bc he posted horny on main.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Heart Monitor Shenanigans with Vox and Hex

Rating: SFW

Pairing: Streamer/Vtuber Reader / Vox, Hex (separate)

Warnings: Implied hidden crush. That's it that's the intro.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Are you excited chat?" Vox entertains your combined chats as you struggle to set up your heartbeat monitor; horror game menu lopping every couple minutes that ticks by. "I'm so sorry guys, this happens every time. I even tested it out a couple hours before the stream so we would have this issue." You sheepishly say. " That's quite alright, Y/N, your chat is lovely and so are my Kindred. They get a Zatsu, a collab and a heartbeat monitor all in one stream." He chuckles. Finally after restarting the program and refreshing it on OBS your heartbeat monitor springs to life. " Thank God!" You exclaim. "Thanks for your patience everyone!" "We are finally ready? Let's gooooo! No 'Shupport' needed, nice work Y/N!" Vox praises you. Your heart jumps in your chest at the praise.

> Ayo why is Y/N BPM so high lololol

>Y/N!!!! You do this every collab with Vox

> That's kinda high....

You watch in horror as your chat blatantly drags you under the bus. You cough awkwardly and quickly try to divert the conversation. "With the scuff out of the way, why don't we get started?" You glance over at Vox's POV and his chat and man the Kindred's are also throwing you under the bus.

> Y'all are seeing what I'm seeing right?

> Love how the game hasn't even started yet and their heart rate is off they hearts HAHA

> My tsundere oshi and oblivious oshi

Vox, you can tell, is trying his best not to tease you you can tell by the tone in his voice. "Thank you for the Supa, remember to follow rules chat, this is a collab Y/N is a guest." Vox starts the game and also tries to take the attention of you, which makes your heart rate spike again. The chat goes nuts. Both you and Vox continue as normal though and begin the game.

-

"Thank you all for watching and thank you to Vox for the collab! I can't wait for the next one!! Say bye chat!!!" You say enthusiastic as you both prepare to end your streams. Once you end stream Vox immediately starts to haze you. "So are we gunna talk about the high BPM or was it just the anxiety of the monitor not working?" He asks smugly. "It's uh gotta be the anxiety thing..." You mumble. "Yeah, I think Kyle said the same thing last time though, Y/N... " " Vox I-" " I'm teasing you, it's fine. Honestly I find it flattering." You roll your eyes but the heat rises to your cheeks. " Thanks for the collab today, we'll definitely have to do this again soon." " Hey maybe next time we can do an off collab? " Vox suggests. A million thoughts run through your head and before you can respond Vox cuts in. "Think about it. I'd love to do it sometime. Have a good one Y/N! " Vox leaves the call. You sit there staring at your monitor which once again, spikes.... You don't know if your heart can handle an off collab.

»»————-　☾　————-««

"Chat I think Hex forgot about us." You sigh dramatically. You frantically message him over Discord for the third time asking him if he's awake. Hex wasn't streaming his POV and did warn you he might be a few minutes later but as you sit here, dedicated sicklings and your own chat, anxiously waiting.

"I'm giving him 5 more minutes then we are jumping in without him." You huff. You hear the discord " join" noise and you don't register it until you hear his voice. "You'd really start without me?" His voice as raspy as ever cuts in. Your heart pounds in your chest, partly because you weren't expecting him to join so suddenly. "H.. hex Haywire everyone!"

> Hexy!!!! Welcome

> Hi Hex!

> Woah morning voice TSKR

"Sorry for the wait... I over slept..." He admits. "You're stupid." You giggle. "You leave your collab partner and your chat, alone, unsupervised, we could've been planning to overthrow you." You joke. " You wouldn't do that, you're too sweet." He yawns. " Right chat? Aren't they the sweetest." You can see your heart rate monitor skyrocket.

> They are the sweetest!!! So true Hex

> Sus monitor

> Y/N Did you forget you have a monitor on? Www

Man the sicklings don't let anything slide. "Let's uh... Start the game." You cough awkwardly.

-

"Sicklings please remember to thank y/n for streaming their POV today." Hex hums out. " And thank you to Hex for coming on! Everyone say bye to Hex!!! Thank you all for coming to today's stream and I'll be back tomorrow with some more Stardew Valley! Byee!!" You say as you mute your OBS and change to your ending scene. "You're resting heart rate is concerning Y/N." Hex comments nonchalantly. "I.... pump blood really fast?" You try to avoid this topic like the plague. "Listen thanks again for breaking your sleep schedule for me, next time we'll stream in your time zone." You say. "Next time huh? Already excited for the next one." You can hear the smugness in his voice. "So what." You huff. He chuckles. "Just let me know, you know I love collabing with you. Good night Y/N" Hex hangs up and you're left with a huge grin on your face.

»»————-　☾　————-««

Psst down here... My requests are open 🗣️

[deuxcherise]

Lend a Hand

C/w: Unhealthy behavior, probably OOC Ayato Kamisato, yandere Ayato Kamisato, fem reader A/n: So like… The amount of times I burst out laughing at the imagery. Anyway, enjoy a little story about how our blue-haired gentleman attempts to hold your hand. Or rather, he wants you to hold his hand, out of your own accord. Some guest appearances here and there from other characters too. Just more yandere Ayato. Kind of a continuation from Cats vs Dogs.

Masterlist

If anyone were to ask the heir of the Kamisato clan the reason why he has a certain fondness for dogs, he could list off multiple reasons off the top of his head.

“Taroumaru. Hand.”

The dignified owner of the Komore Teahouse obeys the verbal command and rests one of his fluffy paws onto the waiting palm of the Kamisato heir. Had it been anyone lesser who had given the order, the retired Shiba warrior would have shown them exactly who they were messing with.

“Good,” Ayato complimented, shaking the dog’s paw gently before departing the tea house without another word, much to Taroumaru's curiosity.

A charming gentleman such as Ayato Kamisato generally has no problem getting people to follow his directions. Why would they, when they well know he always has their best interests in mind?

“Thoma.”

The Kamisato’s loyal housekeeper flinches and turns around, greeting Ayato with a nervous yet quick bow. Thoma then stands up straight and smiles brightly, looking less like a servant and more like a friend. “Yes, my Lord?”

Ayato places a hand out, palm up. “Hand.”

The two have an odd relationship, something you've noticed during your stay here in the Kamisato Estate. Sometimes, the idea of them being more than master and servant– perhaps even more than mere friends– has floated through your mind on multiple occasions upon witnessing the sight of them together. Yet, as with a lot of other things, you’d rather concern yourself with more important matters than what kind of relationship your husband has with others. So long as he doesn’t have any affairs, of course.

“Uh… Okay?”

Though hesitant, Thoma successfully places his hand on top of Ayato's palm. Like with Taroumaru, Ayato gives Thoma a small hand shake.

“Good,” the heir says before letting go of Thoma's hand and heading off in the opposite direction.

Thoma stares between his hand and Ayato's back before shrugging and going back to his cleaning duties. This isn't the first time Ayato has done something strange, after all. At least the young lord didn't force him to try some weird combination like last time… replacing the boba in milk tea with natto… Augh…

Dogs, with their unwavering loyalty and admirable obedience, tend to be quite upfront with their personalities. Their eyes are clear and their expressions are telling. Cats, on the other hand… 

Your husband finds you in the garden, halfway up the furthest wall, hands gripping tightly on the vines. You strain a bit as you reach for the next vine.

“(Y/n).”

You jolt and turn around, eyes wide. You quickly hop down and gather yourself, dusting off your clothes before standing up straight and clearing your throat. You give a slight bow, a polite greeting from wife to husband as if you hadn’t just tried to escape the estate grounds.

“Husband.”

Seldom do you pay attention to his face– because why would you need to?– but ever since your husband had annoyingly insisted on you utilizing his name in address whenever he calls out yours, you've started to notice how his ever-present smile paired with those scarily murky purple eyes tends to crack a bit whenever you refuse to do as he says.

Somehow, it tickles you in a strange way whenever you see these little chips in his perfectly polite expression. They remind you he’s human. And perhaps… you might have a little bit of fun testing his patience.

“(Y/n),” Ayato tilts his head. “You may use my name as you please.”

“Thank you. I am aware, Husband.”

Another crack. “Hm.”

Ayato examines you from head to toe. His eyes trail from your hair to your eyes to your mouth before jumping down to your outfit. Your outfit is that of Inazuman attire with a short sleeve and short skirt rather than the long dresses he normally sees you in. Your legs are covered with dark tights, for modesty. Following your unusual outfit, are shoes meant for running and climbing with long strides rather than walking around with small steps. While he adores the way you look in the yukatas and kimonos and other traditional garments, this current look certainly fits the hidden personality you still refuse to show your husband.

“How refreshing,” Ayato can’t help but comment. “Is there a special occasion for this attire of yours that I'm unaware of?”

You can’t help but cover an arm over your chest and cross the other over the lower half of your body. What a lecherous man! Just because I'm your wife doesn't mean you're allowed to rack your dirty eyes all over me. Hmph!

Doing your best to keep the grimace off your face and relaxing your arms, you answer, “Not at all, Husband.”

“Is that so? Then, may I inquire exactly what you were doing here at the furthest wall of the garden? And without an attendant, no less.”

You purse your lips, rummaging through your head for the right words to use in this situation... Ayato allows you a few moments to mull over your words. Will you lie to him? Will you tell him the truth?

You come to a conclusion that would benefit the both of you. You point up at the wall, your face covered with your perfected doll face. “I wanted to go outside.”

Ayato blinks at your frankness. “And you… were planning to climb the wall?”

“Yes.”

Why did you tell the truth? Well, you knew better than to lie to the heir of the Kamisato clan, one of the most prestigious families in Inazuma with connections you couldn't dare imagine. The Holy Dogs may be strong in their own right, but they are simply a branch under the family. Not to mention, this course of action is in line with your obedient image.

Despite your neutral face, Ayato can spy the glint of rebellion in your eyes. Was your answer a challenge? To prompt him to do something? Oh my… How cute.

Much to your surprise, your keen eyes watch the edges of his polite smile curl just a little more upwards and his lips part just the slightest whisper as if he’s barely keeping himself from grinning and showing off his fangs. It sets the hairs of your skin straight up, forcing you to retreat.

“I, um, realize the error of my ways,” you stutter, giving another bow. “I shall head back inside. Please forgive me, Husband. It won’t happen again.”

Stupid! Why am I apologizing to him of all people!? It’s because of him I’ve been stuck inside! If it weren’t for the Elders, I’d- Hmph! Why is he so scary??

With your eyes on the grass, you barely make it past him with a couple of steps when he says, “Hold on for just one moment, dear wife.”

You freeze in your tracks. “Y-yes, Husband?”

He hums. “I shall forgive you and forget what I’ve just seen-

You internally give a sigh of relief. Prematurely.

“-if… you call me by name from now on, (Y/n).”

You twist around and look at him horrified. The moment you meet his eyes, you remember to hide your expression behind your doll face. “Is… is that necessary, Husband?”

Ayato places a hand over the bottom half of his face, posing like a thinker, but really he’s hiding the almost toothy grin behind his sleeve. His eyelids lower, almost looking at you like a hunter who has gotten ahold of his prey.

Although… is it not exactly so?

“If not, well,” he says, looking off to the side in a wondering manner, his tone playful. “I suppose the Elders may have a field day knowing my wife has a tendency to escape? Or that she doesn’t feel the need to inform her servants due to… perhaps the inadequacy of the servants of the Kamisato clan?”

You stiffen and gulp. How dare you!? You want to scream at him, but alas you must keep your obedient image. This is nothing, you begin to convince yourself. There are certainly worse things a husband can blackmail his wife to do.

You clear your throat. “T-thank you, Hus–... Mm… Ay… Ayato.”

You quickly bow and head back inside the house in a hurry.

“Good,” he compliments in a whisper you can't hear. You cannot see his expression from where you are but his face has completely cracked. His teeth are fully on display and his eyes filled with ecstasy as the sound of your voice speaking his name rewinds over and over in his head..

So a cat can certainly be trained… given the right circumstances. Hm…

-----

You take a deep breath, filling your lungs with the delightful smells of various kinds of foods lining up the streets.

You turn towards your companion with an excited expression, only to remember that your companion is the heir to the Kamisato clan, your husband, and that you are merely his wife, a bride from one of the branches of the Holy Dogs that lie beneath the clan, brought together by artificial ties rather than something romantic like fate. You throw back up your mask and say, “Thank you for bringing me out here, Hu… Ayato.”

Strangely, his smile cracks a bit. “Of course, (Y/n).”

“A-YA-TOOO. WHAT UP, BROOO?”

Like a bull crashing through a glass, a boisterous man with long white hair accompanied by two red horns on his head suddenly appears in front of you both. His grin shows off his fangs. His outfit exposes a very large part of his chest, which makes some heat travel up to your cheeks.

“O-oni?” you squeak, connecting the dots between the horns, the fangs, and the red markings all over the exposed parts of the man’s body. Your eyes find it hard to rest anywhere on the man’s entire being but somehow they refuse to look at anything else.

“Itto,” Ayato greets warmly. He steps in front of you, almost covering your line of sight with his back. The blue of his uniform settles your nerves and mind, thus allowing your irritation to return with how this simple act of his could calm you down. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you oh so very much. Say, who’s the girl with you, bro? Haven’t seen her around before,” Itto says, shifting side to side trying to get a good look at the pretty lady behind Ayato.

Ayato steps aside and shows you off, with an arm hovering around your backside. “Itto, this is my wife, (Y/n). (Y/n), this is–”

“WHAT!?  I didn’t know you were married, bro! Since when!?” Itto doesn’t wait for an answer, instead holding a hand right out to you. “Nice to meet ya, (Y/n)! I’m Itto Arataki, or Arataki Itto, whatever’s more convenient for ya. The one and oni– only head of the Arataki gang! The Oni Sumo King! The Pride of Oni! The-”

“I believe my wife gets the idea,” Ayato cuts in.

“Uh… uh huh,” you manage to utter, bamboozled for a moment. You take Itto’s waiting hand and give it a hardy shake, as much as you can with your human strength. “N-nice to meet you, um, Mr. Arataki!”

“Mr. Ara-taki? Huh. As good as that sounds… you can just call me Itto! Or bro! A bro of my bro is a bro of mine too.”

His sparkling eyes prompt a response from you. “Um, alright, Itto,” you politely respond.

CrAacKk.

Upon audibly hearing a crack, you examine your surroundings but find nothing out of place in this bustling crowd. No broken vases or whips or anything of the sort that could produce such a sound. That’s strange… Was it your imagination? Maybe you’ve stayed inside for way too long… Good thing you’re out here then! A member of the Holy Dogs shouldn’t be losing her touch, after all.

“Now that we’ve exchanged introductions, I believe we must depart. Pardon us,” Ayato says with a strained voice, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning around to head towards another direction.

“Huh? Wait a second–” Itto says, but his voice gets easily drowned out.

With the bustle and largeness of the crowd on this street, you and Ayato are quickly walled off from Ayato’s friend as he leads you away before you could utter a word. Once you realize the proximity of your bodies, your cheeks start to heat up and you quickly make larger strides with your footsteps to escape his half embrace. He does nothing to stop you, content with walking behind you just a step or two in distance.

Why is he walking behind me? That's so weird! You think as you huff and puff, arms crossed as you speed towards a bridge. Ugh! Why is my husband so weird? Shouldn't he insist I walk behind him? That's the custom, isn't it? Wait a second… Is he letting me make mistakes on purpose? 

You stop and turn towards him with a neutral face. He stops and looks at you with a tilted head, curious. He looks so innocent…

What a bastard! You think, before you continue and walk on the wooden planks of the bridge.

CrAcK!

“!” One of your feet accidentally goes through a hidden soft spot, much to your horror. Terrified, you turn towards your husband, the only one in sight, and open your mouth–

Wait a second. I am a daughter of the Holy Dogs! What the hell am I doing!? I am (Y/n) Kamisato, not some damsel in distress. I must've grown soft! I don't need anyone's help!

You opt not to make a single peep. Fallen on the ground on your hands and knees, you place your hands on the surrounding wood to pull your leg up– only to hear more cracks of the wooden bridge and a sudden drop of your leg further through the hole your foot is stuck in. Any more movement and you risk destroying the rest of the bridge and dropping entirely into the water a kilometer below. You grit your teeth in frustration as you try to figure out how to get yourself out of this mess.

Your husband quickly closes the distance between you two, concern marring his face. “(Y/n),” he says, holding a hand out for you. “Take my–”

Don't get any closer!” you snap. “I just… I just need a moment.”

CrAcK!

Your foot falls in deeper, now taking your entire leg. The surrounding wooden planks feel moist, wet even, much to your discomfort. This is one of the newly refurbished bridges, so surely it must be the fault of heavy rain that came by a few days ago, along with a lack of proper lacquering.

“(Y/n), please take my hand before you fall into the river.”

You shake your head, placing your hands on other places and attempt to pull yourself up. “No. I can–”

CrAaaaaCK...

You close your eyes and inhale sharply before glaring at his outstretched hand. It is covered in a black satin glove, his fingers long and slender. There is a certain tension of the tendons from where his half-exposed palm meets his wrist just before the rest of the arm is covered by his sleeve, exposing the fruit of wielding the sacred sword thousands of times.

For a moment– just for a moment– a image of this one hand holding both of your wrists together enters your mind.

Disgusted at yourself for such an inappropriate thought at such an inappropriate time, you quickly shake your head to rid yourself of the image. This gets interpreted by your husband as a refusal.

“(Y/n).”

A glance up at his face, sends your eyes back to his hand. His smile is no longer present, his lips pursed in a frown. His eyebrows are level but the inner edges are slightly downward. His eyes… they… frighten you. Or rather… they do something to you that doesn't feel very appropriate for this dire situation you're currently stuck in. Did he have to deepen his voice in such a strained manner? What are you? A disobedient puppy?

You reluctantly take his hand and he whisks you right out with little to no strength into a princess carry. “Whoa!”

Ayato walks off the bridge onto solid ground before you could comprehend what just happened. Looking back, you find the bridge intact, the wooden planks outside of the immediate area of the hole you dropped in quite dry. Physics wasn't exactly high on the list of things the Elders focused on educating, bogged down by subjects like flower arranging or bridal duties, but you were sure water is weighted down by gravity just like any other element.

Why would water collect at the apex of a bridge rather than the lower sides…?

A sigh of relief exits your husband, his chest pressing against you, stealing your attention again.

“I believe it's time we head back inside, shall we?”

You nod, too tired from the excitement of today and allowing yourself to absorb the feeling of him holding you, along with the steady sound of your heartbeat in your ears. “Thank you… Ayato.”

-----

There are common sayings about cats Ayato has heard about. Things like cats like to drink milk, cats are good at hunting mice, cats don't like water, cats tend to land on their feet, etc.

One notable contrast between a dog and a cat is that a trained dog may listen to a command and stay in one place for the rest of its life, whereas a trained cat– if it is possible to train one– will still yield to no one but itself and continue to wander as it pleases.

You reach for another vine.

“(Y/n).”

You grab the vine and give a defeated sigh. Without turning your head, you respond, “Ayato.”

“Shall I inquire about your current action?”

“Is it necessary when you already know?”

Ayato hums, entertained by the sight of you hugging the wall like a kitten stuck in a net in your short attire. A very cute sight, yes, but one he wishes was a little less… frequent. “If you wanted to go outside, you only needed to ask me.”

You suck in your cheeks and pucker your lips. “What if I… wanted to go outside by myself? Without you, for once?” you test.

Ayato's eyes darken and the edges of his mouth level out into a neutral position, neither smiling or frowning.

Without him, you say? Forgive your husband, but the idea of letting you out of the safety of the estate grounds without him or an attendant… where there are far too many factors that would get in the way… like other men…

“It is far too dangerous outside, (Y/n). Especially for a bride of the Kamisato clan. At least take an attendant with you.”

“... I don’t want an attendant either.”

The first time Ayato had caught you was not the first time you had made an escape attempt. It was simply one of the many, many, many failed attempts you had made, though none have ever had any witnesses. At least, to your knowledge. In making sure your image of an obedient wife had been kept, you've sabotaged yourself before any passing servant could see you.

That being said, your husband has hidden eyes everywhere. And he simply finally made his presence known to you during your attempts to climb over the wall.

“Hm. My dear wife said it won't happen again and yet… here she is. What will the Elders say, I wonder?”

You click your tongue. How dare your husband threaten you with the Elders again!?

“Come down and all will be forgiven.”

You let out another sigh. “... Okay.”

You hop down and gather yourself, placing the doll face back on only for your eyes to widen at the sight of your husband's terrifying murky purple eyes pulsating with something vile. His smile looks strained, and you can't tell if he's trying to keep his smile polite or if he's trying to keep from frowning.

“A-Ayato?” you peep.

The sound of his name from your lips seems to snap him out of his stupor, the darkness of his expression swallowed up and returned to its usual relaxed politeness. He holds out a hand towards you to guide you in.

“(Y/n)~”

Seeing as you're not in some dire situation like that time with the bridge, you look at his hand and consider taking it since there's certainly no harm to your ego in doing so. A simple interaction between a polite husband and an obedient wife, that's all.

Only for that inappropriate image regarding his hand and your wrists to pop up in your head. making your cheeks burn and your heartbeat suddenly quite audible.

Suddenly, you run into the house, sliding the door open and close in less than a blink of the eye. You place your back against the door and slide your way down, breathing in and out to try to calm yourself and think of other things, like making rice wine or folding origami. To think you'd think about your husband in such a manner! Inconceivable!

Ayato, fazed by your sudden departure, slowly turns towards where you disappear into. He blinks. He blinks again. His open hand slowly closes into a fist. His ever-present smile fully cracks and the vileness of his eyes return in full blast.

“Bad,” he whispers.

Ayato Kamisato is not the kind of person who expects everyone to follow his commands, nor is he the type to expect everyone to want to hold his hand. He is a dignified gentlemen who would never lay his hands on anyone. Why would he need to in the first place, when he is the heir of the prestigious Kamisato clan?

But he's used to the mannerisms of loyal and obedient dogs, not aloof and fickle cats. Not like you.

One that puffs up and hisses at him if he gets too close, and wants nothing more than to run back outside. Is being with him that unbearable? Is there somewhere outside you need to be without him or an attendant? Why? Is there perhaps… someone? Someone his hidden eyes had somehow managed to overlook?

As far as he knows, all female friends and both male and female cousins of yours are allowed on the Kamisato Estate so you needn't go outside. An unrelated man then? Itto? No, you've just met, despite how easily you said his name. Another man then? Impossible… Unless… ?

Well, if you’re going to be prone to running away like some stray female cat in heat, should he just… tie you up and make sure your legs can't move for awhile?

Ayato scoffs at himself. No. Not yet.

Oh well, he'll just have to be patient. He was able to blackmail you into calling him by his name, and now look at you~ No longer stuttering~

Not to mention, you let him hold you all the way from the bridge to home without any complaints and refusals. It is certainly progress, especially with how you've begun to respond to him more organically lately.

For now, he'll just have to work on getting you to hold his hand out of your own accord. Maybe he should facilitate a situation for that to happen just like the bridge…

It certainly helps being a hydro user… Cats really don't like water, do they?

[katsutora]

— THIEF !

ft. isagi yoichi ; itoshi rin ; nagi seishiro ; bachira meguru ; chigiri hyōma ; itoshi sae

summary: how they react when you steal the blanket

note: i sure do hope this is not too ooc. i fucking love blue lock a healthy amount 🤏🏻 anyways who’s your fave character(s)?

⚘ ISAGI YOICHI

ㅤㅤnow THIS is a sweetheart and an absolute dumbass in this scenario but we love him. he woke up all cold (possibly with a frozen shoulder) in the middle of the night and his first thought was to check up on you. when he sees you all cuddled up and warm, he just kisses your forehead and goes back to sleep. probably overthinks too though; is something bothering you, did you have a bad encounter with something while he was away, etc. catches the flu the next day lmfao. oh well, there you have it. it’s now your turn to give up the blanket and kiss his forehead.

⚘ ITOSHI RIN

ㅤㅤsimply pulls out a new one. you think he’s going to spend his energy on such a lukewarm thing (re: wrestling you for a blanket)? think again. is honestly sweet enough to let you steal it but won’t pass the chance to passive aggressively sigh (as loud as he can, mind you) because he’s forced to rummage through storage trying to find a spare one at three in the morning; on a match night; against SAE??? better hope he wins or else you’ll never hear the end of it. if he’s in a petty mood, he will hog the blanket the next night. well then, do you want to build a snowman? “rin, i'm cold, i can’t sleep.” “i can. good night.” just cling onto him, it’ll definitely melt his frozen heart.

⚘ NAGI SEISHIRO

ㅤㅤscenario a: he will absolutely fucking fight you on this. everything else is a hassle (except games and occasionally soccer, yeah yeah) but never steal his blanket. gets all pouty and shit. it’s going to turn into a game of tug-of-war or something because neither of you want to surrender. oh my god, everything is on the floor including you at some point. the good side is that it always ends up with the blanket tossed to one side and him cuddling you so it’s a win? ㅤㅤscenario b: bear goes on a hibernation during winter.

⚘ BACHIRA MEGURU

ㅤㅤbold of you to assume he’s not the one stealing the blanket? little shit (affectionate); beats you to it every time. nope, he won’t budge so don’t even try waking him up. okay, let’s say you managed to wake him up by repeatedly poking his cheek and calling his name but does he want to open his eyes? “hey, isagi, hey, pass” MEGURU, PASS THE BLANKET BACK? help. just get another one smh.

⚘ CHIGIRI HYŌMA

ㅤㅤyou've put him in a predicament, god save his soul. prays that he won’t accidentally wake you up during his attempt on pulling it back a little bit further to his side. “i'm gonna take this now, okay?” oh boy, your grasp only tightens. stares at you for a long time because he doesn’t know what else to do. tick tock. considers just snatching it on minute ten. let’s try a different angle, maybe if he pulls it from this corner, 44° to the right, it’s— nope, sorry chigiri. will most likely pass out from his endless creativity exhaustion.

⚘ ITOSHI SAE

ㅤㅤoh wow, oh. stealing a blanket from the itoshi sae? wow. if his night isn’t peaceful, then he’s going to drag you into this miserable land too. will and won’t hesitate to wake you up. “i have a match tomorrow.” imagine replying “ok? and i have the blanket. bet you don’t have that now, do you, sae?” lmao. will immediately get up and leave to sleep in the guest bedroom. ok but try hugging him and saying “and i have you in my arms.” he’s baffled, he’s in shambles, shaking, crying, throwing up.

© 2022 katsutora ; do not repost and/or translate and/or claim my works

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

_

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

_

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

___________________________________________

[lizforever]

˚⊱ TWST REACTION ⊰˚

theme: some characters reaction to you picking up a large plate of food because i'm bored... and i need ideas too. may be ooc because i'm still in book three and i'm still learning about the characters. i'll probably delete this lmao

notes: i wanted to try to write a little today, but i'm not an expert, so... and remember: my request are open!

characters: riddle, cater, ace, malleus & vil.

˚⊱ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS ⊰˚

you were in an unbirthday party scenario. riddle was talking to some members and watching everyone carefully to make sure everyone was following the rules.

it was literally when he took his eye off you that you started picking up a plate and putting a bunch of food on it. certainly the people around them noticed and started whispering, and cater started recording. ace started laughing and encouraged you to put more, while deuce and trey looked at you crookedly.

riddle finally noticed and, he frowned he approached you and poked your shoulder, making you turn to him. he cleared his throat.

— i came to warn you, prefect, that there are other people to eat besides you. but, of course, if you want to take that amount, you're allowed, just remember to eat it all. people who throw away leftover food are despicable.

you ended up feeling bad.

˚⊱ CATER DIAMOND ⊰˚

ah, the school cafeteria. the dream of a student who, after hours of classes, only thinks about taking a large portion of lunch and eating it all in one mouthful.

... you shouldn't take this so seriously, okay?

cater was taking a photo of his lunch to post on social media, when you pass by his side. when he looks at you, he drops his gaze to the plate in your hands, which makes him startle.

wow. he can't believe.

when you get distracted, he takes out his cell phone and tries to take a hidden photo of your plate in order to post on stories. turns out, he forgot to have the flash on, so you certainly noticed, but he hid his cell phone and pretended nothing happened.

˚⊱ ACE TRAPOLLA ⊰˚

again, it was an unbirthday party.

ace was putting out his food, when he suddenly turned around and looked at your big plate of food. his eyes widened and he almost dropped the plate he was holding. but then a smile appeared on his lips and he began to laugh, attracting your attention.

— are ya afraid of starving, prefect?

ace asked, mocking you. you roll your eyes and, before leaving, you look at his plate.

... he took more food than you.

and if you complain, he will throw it on your face.

˚⊱ MALLEUS DRACONIA ⊰˚

malleus wanted to have a small banquet with the members of diasomnia, and called you too because you're his only friend.

while he was talking to some guests, he ended up catching an eye on you, and decided to come closer to greet you.

however, as he approaches, he looks at his plate and immediately stops walking.

he looked at you again.

— ... enjoy your meal, child of the man.

even though he seemed like he didn't like you taking so much food, he actually found the whole situation... interesting.

get ready for the next banquets he makes, because he will give you very large portions...

... not that you might not like it.

˚⊱ VIL SCHOENHEIT ⊰˚

today was the day that crowley gave you the most tasks. by night, you were completely exhausted and very hungry. so, in the cafeteria at dinner time (which, in fact, was the day you could make your own dinner), you unconsciously started to fill your plate, putting a lot of rice, pasta, meat and a piece of tomato to balance it out. vil was picking up his plate when he turned around and was startled. he looked at you with a judgmental look and opened his mouth to speak.

— this is unacceptable, totally unacceptable. are you a pig or what? gross.

he never let you talk to epel again.

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Tartaglia x Reader (gn) - SAGAU

Another day, another post! im praying that this one is easier to write than yesterdays because i spent nearly 2 hrs trying to write my 1k words. thankfully me and childe are besties (real, not clickbait) and he's also my main so i don't have to read about his personality for a hour on the genshin impact wiki.

Contains - childe being sickeningly in love with you and kinda soft (my boy is whipped) the other harbingers also lowkey hate him, also the yandere behavior makes him ooc so im sorry if hes acting a lil bit goofy, also this fic is a bit more funny and lighthearted then the other two, so let me know if you like this

The previous fic if you want context is here

And the Dottore version is here

So without further ado, I introduce you to...

"Tartaglia?"

The voices outside halt for just a second, before you hear scuffling and harsh but hushed whispers from a number of different voices. Maybe he wasn't there. After all, as the least senior of all the Harbingers, maybe he was not invited to whatever conversation they were having right beyond your door. You strained to listen, but although their voices seemed to be slowly getting louder and more irate, you could only catch tiny snippets of what they were saying.

"-not going-"

"If you-"

"SO HELP ME TARTAGLIA, IF YOU TAKE ONE MORE STEP TOWARDS THAT DOOR, I WILL PERSONALLY THROW YOU OUT-"

You flinched slightly at the sudden exclamation, which was abruptly cut off with some loud crashes and violent curses. As the noises didn't cease, you found yourself shoving off your layers of blankets and shakily getting to your feet. You were distantly aware that you probably shouldn't be moving around this much, considering how weak your body felt and the dull ache in the patched wound on your side, but you chose to ignore it in favor of investigating.

When you reached the door and nudged it open slightly, you were greeted with, not a hallway like you had presumed, but a fancy lounge area, the sort for receiving guests if you were a rich person and couldn't be bothered leaving your quarters. But more interesting than the décor was the two Harbingers fighting rather aggressively in the middle of the room and the other nine Harbingers watching on with various shades of amusement and disgust. They seemed totally oblivious to your presence, eyes trained on Arlecchino as she threw a chair at Tartaglia, before tackling him to the ground. You stood hesitantly in the doorway, not stupid enough to try and intervene, but also genuinely concerned for the safety of both of the Harbingers.

"Oh, Your Grace! What are you doing out of bed?"

You turned to the large group of Harbingers to find Sandrone staring at you with a rather worried expression. Her words caused everyone to stop and turn to you, even Arlecchino who appeared to be currently attempting to strangle Tartaglia. After a brief pause, Capitano turned back to two on the floor.

"See Tartaglia? Your childish actions have disturbed the Divine One. You are hardly fit for your title as Harbinger, causing such distress for our most beloved god."

"I'M DISTURBING THEM?! Arlecchino was the one who screamed at the top of her lungs with no care for Their Grace's slumber, why am I being blamed?"

Arlecchino paled slightly at this and stared at you with an uncharacteristically anxious expression.

"I didn't wake you up, right?"

You felt yourself sway slightly and grabbed onto the doorframe, embarrassed at how quickly your body seemed to be giving out on you.

"Oh no, not at all. I was already awake, I was just listening to you all discuss what's going on with the other nations. That's why I called for Tartaglia, I wanted to ask him some questions about what I missed while I was sleeping."

There was a slightly awkward pause as what you just said sank in.

"Wait, you actually called for Tartaglia? He wasn't hallucinating it? Or lying so he could go in and see you?" Arlecchino asked, an incredulous look covering her face as she got up off the floor.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to start a fight or anything but..."

Your vision blurred slightly and your knees buckled slightly as another wave of pain hit you. You heard a few worried murmurs from the Harbingers, but before they could do anything, you were swept off your feet and carried back into your room.

"Sorry about making you get out of bed for that. Are you feeling okay?" Tartaglia whispered gently as he cradled you in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him.

"Yeah I'm fine. I probably just need another nap, clearly I'm not as well healed as I thought."

He nodded at that, laying you down silently on your bed before grabbing at your blankets and laying them back over you.

"Sorry for causing you so much trouble, Ajax."

"Ajax?"

You hesitated, suddenly unsure of how he would react to his actual name. But he only smiled, with what seemed to be a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"I had no idea that you knew my real name! I mean, of course you do, but I just didn't think you would take much notice and-"

He paused, seemingly noticing your tired eyes.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I'll ramble another time. Please, if you so wish, call me Ajax."

"Perhaps not in front of the other Harbingers though. I wouldn't want to drag you into another spat." You whispered sleepily.

"Don't worry about that!" He grinned widely at you. "I can take them on, call me what you want."

He got up from beside you, with one last sentence before he left.

"Sweet dreams, Your Grace."

Glad to report that this one was a lot easier to write and I was actually giggling a little while picturing Arlecchino trying to beat Tartaglia. I might write Pierro's ending today, just because I have some time and I'm in a good writing mood. The order of the endings so far are Pierro, Capitano, Pantalone and Scaramouche. If you guys want to comment which of the women you want to go after Scaramouche, I'll add them to the list! (also no, I'm not writing Pulcinella)