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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.

Words: 2,3k

TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.

Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.

It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.

Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.

Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.

But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.

From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…

Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.

Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.

The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.

The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.

The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.

“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.

“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.

“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."

"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.

"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.

The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.

You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.

Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.

“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.

“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”

“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”

“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.

“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.

One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.

Do it again.

Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.

His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.

His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.

His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.

The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”

The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.

Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood

#Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Peaky blinders imagine #Peaky blinders x reader #Peaky blinders #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #Tommy Shelby smut #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Cillian Murphy #peaky blinders x y/n

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peepshow321 · 2 months ago

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TaskRaccoon Premium: Chapter 1

Josh was at a dead end. For years he had put his entire focus and energy on his education and studies, above his social life, his health, and his finances. He came top of his class in History and Classics and so in his head all that hard l work had paid off, but now that he had graduated... what was next? His classmates had swanned off into internships and graduate programmes, but Josh found himself in the summer after graduating with no job, no prospects and, most importantly, no money.

Josh's parents had supported him throughout his further education, but now that he was back home they decided to treat Josh like an adult. And that meant rent. Josh balked at the suggestion, but his parents were adamant and so Josh found himself on the job hunt.

This proved trickier than Josh anticipated. Turns out the local libraries and bookshops didn't care about his top degree; they wanted experience. And as Josh lowered his sights to restaurants, cafes, even the bowling alley, he found himself receiving the same feedback.

Needing to save making cash quick, a sympathetic interviewer told Josh to pick up the odd job on TaskRaccoon - an app where Josh could choose to help people with tasks like moving furniture, watering plants, doing shopping in exchange for a small fee. It wasn't perfect, especially as Josh didn't really have the build or inclination for manual jobs, and Josh often found himself doing jobs he never expected while at school. But over time Josh felt an unexpected satisfaction with earning a buck and paying his parents. So much so that Josh had bigger aspirations - moving out of his parents place.

That, of course, required money. And while Josh worked hard with the TaskRaccoon jobs he was given, he needed something more.

On a random Tuesday afternoon, a solution seemed to land out of nowhere on Josh's TaskRaccoon app: TaskRaccoon Premium. Out of nowhere, Josh's app pop-up with a link to a Premium version of the app. It was an additional service where workers such as Josh would get a boosted fee for the same types of tasks plus, according to the app, receive "all the skills and know-how to complete the task to perfection." Josh figured that last bit was maybe the app providing how-to guides on how to complete the more common tasks, which he took as a nice freebie.

To lure users in, there was even an offer - sign-up to TaskRaccoon Premium, perform a randomly assigned task, and receive double the boosted fee. Josh had done his fair share of the most common tasks on the app already (walk my dog, assemble my shelves, do my groceries) so figured it was well worth his while to take the gamble. And so Josh bit the bullet, sign up for a Premium account, and waited to be given his first random task.

Without any pause and without any fanfare, Josh's first random task appeared: "I need someone to clean my pool". Josh groaned; it wasn't the first time he had seen a pool cleaning request but it was one he always chose to ignore because he felt he didn't have any of the right equipment and would have no idea where to start. And while this new Premium version had offered access to "skills and know-how", there only thing on the app was an address. Josh couldn't even see an option to cancel.

Josh wavered, but as he saw the blue sky outside and remembered the promise of a doubled fee, he decided to go for it. He could rake some leaves out of a pool easily enough. The address was only a 15 minute drive away, so Josh grabbed the keys to his mum's sedan and got going.

It felt good to be outside and Josh enjoyed the sunny drive. So much so that he didn't notice his mum's humble car begin to change. The front section became blockier and more basic, her touchscreen sat nav becoming an older model. The seats and interior decor became faded, and Josh had to readjust his seating position as the car seemed to somehow lift off the ground. The steering wheel grew in size and, to match it, bizarrely, so did Josh's hands. Without warning, Josh's pale hands began to darken in complexion and as they grasped the now-rough wheel Josh didn't notice the veins that ran down with now lean and well-rounded hands.

Josh pulled up to a red light, momentarily confused about how he seemed to sit above the surrounding cars. He also felt cramped in the car and realised that his seat was pushed up way too far. He, a bit embarrassingly, was the same height as his mum so he never normally had to adjust the seat, but as he pushed the seat back he realised just how much he needed to stretch out his legs. As the light turned to green, he was oblivious to his jeans riding up and becoming a loose pair of swimming shorts, revealing his now lengthy and toned legs, feathered with dark hair.

Josh pulled up at the designated address shortly after, a sizeable house in a nice neighbourhood. As he got of the car, he was for a moment confused by his need to climb out of the car and then felt off balance when he landed on the tarmac. Before he could interrogate any further though, he looked in surprise at the pick-up truck boot filled with pool cleaning gear. A voice in the back of Josh's mind told him to panic - why the hell did he suddenly have all this gear - but remembering that he had a job to do Josh collected the gear and approached the house. Josh stopped en route to take his jumper off to enjoy the warm sun, not noticing the way his new well-fitted tank top which hung closely to his chest and showed off his slightly more toned arms or the darker shade of his skin...

Josh carried the gear with surprising ease to the front door, and was warmly welcomed by a middle-aged women who introduced herself as Beth. Beth showed Josh to her garden where a medium-sized pool sat, clearly long overdue a clean. Josh thanked Beth, pausing a little at the vague lilt coming out of his month. Was it just him, or just his voice sound deeper...

Josh got to work. The pool needed much more than just some leaves removed but with every task, Josh found himself instinctively knowing what to do. Which pump to use, when to apply chemicals, how to get the pH levels perfect, it all just flooded into Josh's mind. And he was surprised at how flexible he was at reaching all the right places - Josh didn't love manual jobs but he almost felt like his reach had gotten better. It was hot work though and Josh removed his baseball hat and towelled his brow and face, briefly feeling unfamiliar stubble on his face and thick short locks of hair on his scalp.

It wasn't long before Josh has completed his job, a sense of pride sweeping over him as he stared into the now pristine waters. That pride however quickly morphed into confusion as he gazed at the reflection in the shimmering water. Maybe it was distorted, but there was no way that that tall, dark reflection could be him. He was shirt, slender, pale, wasn't he?

He dropped his net and stared at his hands. His suddenly thick, dark hands. Josh began to breath sharply as he noticed just how high up he was, that he was in an outfit that he had never bought, and that his short, pale self had seemingly been replaced with a tanned, lean body.

As Josh was clutching at his newly stubbled face and grasping at the space where his small paunch should be, Beth came out with a pitcher of cool lemonade. Josh spun around in panic, and before Beth could say anything he muttered "lo siento" and ran back to his car.

Josh stopped sharply outside as he stared at the beaten up pick up truck outside Beth's drive, a truck that sat where he thought his mum's sedan should be. A truck that keys in his pocket unlocked. Breathing deeply, and trying his best not to panic, he clampered into the car and pulled down the mirror, staring at the unfamiliar dark eyes that stared back at him. Dark eyes amongst a handsome face, with a strong chin covered in thick but trimmed stubble and framed by dark, tightly curled locks. "What the fuck" Josh uttered, eyes widening at the accented deep voice that emerged.

Josh explored his tightly muscled body now covered in a light sweat when his phone pinged. He unlocked it - the phone recognised his face even if Josh didn't - and the TaskRaccoon app popped up, showing a task completed and $500 dollars deposited in his account.

But what kept Josh's eye though were the other task options appearing. There were more pool cleaning jobs, but also other tasks ranging from moving furniture, plumbing, and even covering people's work shifts. Josh noted that there was an option to cancel his "Premium" membership, but some of the fees weren't to be sniffed at. His breathing calmed down and Josh sat into his car seat, and pondered his options.

Chapter 2

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Hi all!

Some of you may have seen this story on other sites, but I'm bringing it to Tumblr for the first time and with pics! There will also be some small tweaks as I post over the next few weeks.

As always, welcome any feedback or chats!

#race change #male tf #racial transformation #male transformation #whitetolatino #mywork #TaskRaccoon #poolboy #reality change

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hazelfoureyes · 1 year ago

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Alastor in Rut (one shot)

Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader

Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.

this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)

「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」

Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.

MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI

The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.

You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.

“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”

She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.

“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”

Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”

You shook your head no.

“Gluttonous? She asked.

“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”

“Prideful, then?”

“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.

“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”

“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”

A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”

“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”

Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”

Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”

“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice.

She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”

Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder.

“Follow me little one.” The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.

Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.

A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.

“You obey instructions well.”

You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.

It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient.

Fun.

“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.

A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.

He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.

Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”

A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”

“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”

A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”

Delicious.

“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”

“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”

His hand uncurled.

A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.

A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.

“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.

You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”

Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try.

You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.

The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”

Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.

“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.

Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.

“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear.

Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you.

“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head.

His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.

Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general?

An answer tumbled out, too quietly.

“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”

A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.

“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”

Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation.

“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.

A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”

Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had.

At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”

Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”

The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.

A tremor stayed in your hands through the night.

To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do.

Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before?

It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.

“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”

You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities.

Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail.

When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement.

“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off. A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.

“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.

“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.

“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”

He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”

Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone.

“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”

You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”

A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.

You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out.

A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.

“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end.

They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground.

That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you.

“Oh dear. Trouble already?”

You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away.

Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest.

“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”

You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.

“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”

Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.

“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”

Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”

“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.

“My soul.”

A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.

The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing.

But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened.

Naive. Terribly naive.

Perfectly usable.

He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked.

So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold.

You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking.

“Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply.

Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”

“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.

Does, always, oestrus

Mating, triggers, ovulation

“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.

Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”

You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”

“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”

His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words.

You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”

“Precisely.”

“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”

You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”

A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.

Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.

“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”

His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap.

“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open.

It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.

He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.

Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem.

But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip.

A doe.

The only doe he knew of in the hotel.

The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.

....out the windows

....always and forever,

....in yesterday.

....rusty cage

May you never....

Hating how I....

....pull the trigger

....say you love me?

....congratulations

The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him.

He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology.

A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.

But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.

How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?

His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck.

“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”

“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.

Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar.

Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.

Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him.

Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.

“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”

“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless.

He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern.

He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”

“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”

When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.

“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”

Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face.

His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.

The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”

In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.

Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.

Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you.

He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.

Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.

“Ah ah, eyes on me.”

He hummed happily as you did as you were told.

But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.

“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.” A kick, a threat, “Now.”

“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.

“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.

His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.

“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”

Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip.

“One!”

As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.

“Two!”

He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal.

“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.

Silence.

Mumbling.

Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”

His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.

You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.

“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”

Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”

While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”

A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.

Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”

“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”

They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”

A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”

Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”

You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.

₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊

Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.

Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.

The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.

"Turn around."

You turned to face the door.

"On your hands and knees."

You paused briefly, but did so.

As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.

You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.

He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe. His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.

A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest.

“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.”

A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.

He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him.

“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.

A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”

His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.

His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d retained some skills over the long years alone.

The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.

As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you.

“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.

“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up.

You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus.

Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.

His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you.

It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place.

A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body.

He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were … inside you.

“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”

That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”

His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”

You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”

A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass.

It was mortifying to be suck in that position.

“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole.

Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”

Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”

He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.

An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience.

When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance.

You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment.

“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you.

Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”

Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”

He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?”

Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.”

With a blink, his eyes were black. His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.

Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start.

One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.

Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct.

Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.

“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body.

You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly.

You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.

He stopped with his head barely in you.

A squirm.

“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”

“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.

Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.

Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”

Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”

The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.

Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.

The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach.

Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you.

Not a new sensation, but a different one.

“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.

“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —

“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”

He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open.

With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”

You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.

“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”

You moaned at the words. No, of course not.

“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability.

“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.

You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.

This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.

Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—

Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.

Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.

The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.

Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.

But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.

Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.

Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”

His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.”

Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”

His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.

But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.

His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.

Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.

When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.

“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been.

“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.

“Alastor.”

He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.

It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.

His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.

“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.

Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising.

Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck.

Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties.

Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord.

How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?

“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.”

He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him.

He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.

“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.

His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.

“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”

You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.

“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”

Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.

A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.

Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.

He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core.

His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.

Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.

“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”

He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”

Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”

“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.

“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”

“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected.

You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”

He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”

While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not. You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.

But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.

You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.

It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.

When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth.

The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression.

One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet.

A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.

There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”

His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”

You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late.

Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together.

Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about.

You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used.

But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble.

So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”

deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @rubyninja1 , @simphornies

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , , @tiredkiwiii @ilikemyteawithmilk @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , , @fizzled-phoenix , @phobophobular , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk

#alastor x reader smut #alastor smut #alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel x reader #fanfiction #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic

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ghostlyferrettarot · 3 months ago

Text

🌷Pick a Picture:🍨⊹˚. ♡ What's coming up for you on February?🎀 ⊹˚. ♡

🎀𝗜'𝗺 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹🎀

•Pile 1 •Pile 2 •Pile 3

❗️This is a collective reading, take what resonates and leave the rest❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

🫧Join my Patreon for exclusive content!🫧

🖤If you like my work you can support me through Ko-fi. Thank you!

🛍Masterlist🛍

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 1: Queen of Swords, 3 of Cups and 2 of Swords.

This February, everything may feel a little… random. Like you can't see clearly what's happening or what's coming next. And while it can be frustrating not to have all the answers, the Moon encourages you not to force things. Sometimes not knowing what's going on is a sign that you need to take a step back and allow yourself to feel without trying to rationalize everything.

You may be faced with situations this month that you may have been avoiding. Questions may arise about your relationships, your job, or even your current identity. And even though you may not perceive it now, it's all part of a developmental process. The confusion you're experiencing isn't harmful; on the contrary, it's like a "reminder" from the cosmos that there are elements within you that need to be heard. There will be times when you feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place, but there will also be days when you feel completely disoriented. And that's okay. You don't need to have everything figured out right away. It's a month to meditate, not to rush into solutions.

My recommendation would be not to put too much pressure on yourself. If you find yourself in a situation where things aren't clear, you shouldn't force yourself to make sure everything has immediate meaning. Keep an eye on your feelings, pay attention to the smallest details, and most of all, be kind to yourself. Clarity will come when it's needed, you just have to trust the process and yourself.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 2: The Sun, 4 of Wands and Queen of Wands.

You might feel like the pieces are starting to fall into place again this February, and that will give you a sense of clarity that you haven't experienced in a long time. You might feel more stimulated, more optimistic, or simply intent on giving your best. If there was something that was overwhelming you or that had stopped you, this is the moment when things begin to take a positive turn.

This month, you will experience thefeeling that something inside you is "waking up" in a sense. Perhaps you were already carrying some uncertainties or fears, but now it will give you the strength to face them, i heard "I'm going to put all my effort" as i was channeling your message. It is a favorable month to start a new project, undertake those dreams that you had saved or take on some circumstance that was going around in your mind. You will notice that the energy will be in your benefit. It is as if everything begins to flow without so much effort, like when you discover the right route and everything seems to be in tune.

Even if something is not exactly what you anticipated, your optimistic attitude and your clarity will help you to continue moving forward with confidence. Enjoy everything that this month brings with it. Sometimes we concentrate so much on the objectives that we forget to enjoy the trip. Take advantage of the minimal things, those that give us happiness in the simple things.

🧁Song:

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆Pile 3: 8 of Wands, The Chariot and King of Cups.

This month feels really "fast" to put it in a way, I think it will pass really quickly for you. Surprises can be a bit disconcerting at first, but in reality, they are bringing great potential. Some circumstances could change in unexpected ways, but that is just one component of the process. Don't worry if you feel that things are not progressing as you anticipated. Sometimes, the most significant transformations appear when we least expect them, and the final outcome can be much more favorable than you imagine.

This month could be a bit of a roller coaster, in the broadest sense. Some situations will evolve quickly, and you may feel like you are on a boat, but don't worry. There will be moments of uncertainty, but if you continue to evolve with the transformations, opportunities will begin to arise out of nowhere. It could be a good time to take a little more risk, as everything seems to be going in your favor.

Don't try to control everything. Life has its own rhythm, and sometimes it's best to allow yourself to be guided by the course of things. The surprises that will come this month will take you to unexpected places, and even though you can't anticipate what will happen, trust that everything has a reason to be the way it is. Let go of what you can't handle and continue to progress with the assurance that better things are yet to come <3

🧁Song:

💐Thank you for reading and tell me if it resonated💐

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lleeanarr · 7 months ago

Text

pt 2.

summary: The relationship was unexpected not only from the fans, but it was unexpected to the both of them as well.

genre: fluff, smau

paring: Lando Norris x Influencer!reader

warnings! : swearing, attempted humour

fc: Lani Pliopa

a/n: part two! sorry for the long wait😞😞

prev | next

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris : hello??

landonorris : …

landonorris : its been a day🙃

landonorris : answer me?

landonorris : pls?😔

landonorris : day 65 of asking you to answer me🫠

landonorris : ANSWERRRRRR‼️‼️

catsuperior111 : what in the desperate male😨😨

landonorris : im not desperate.

catsuperior111 : u sure????

catsuperior111 : looks and sound very desperate to me🤷‍♀️

landonorris : 🙂

catsuperior111 : its okk everyone just wants to slide into my dms😌✨

landonorris : weren’t you the one sliding into mine🤨

catsuperior111 : I-

catsuperior111 : me is 🤏 close to blocking tu😃😃

landonorris : NO

landonorris : and why the fuck did it take you a whole week to answer me🤨🤨

catsuperior111 : uhhh

catsuperior111 : my phone was dead..??

landonorris : bullshit who can survive a week without a phone

landonorris : and you suck at lying.

catsuperior111 : BOO TOMATO TOMATO📣📢‼️

catsuperior111 : THIS IS SLANDER😠😠

landonorris : no slander

landonorris : just the truth🤷

landonorris : now answer my question why did it take you so long?

catsuperior111 : i was too lazy😔✊

landonorris : THAT WAS THE REASON?!!!

catsuperior111 : yes.

catsuperior111 : you were too boring for me to reply to🤷‍♀️

landonorris : bullshit

landonorris : i know deep inside you enjoy my attention😍✨

catsuperior111 : WHO in their RIGHT mind would ever enjoy your attention😨😨😨

landonorris : rude.

landonorris : and fyi MANY would😒

catsuperior111 : mhmm sure keep lying to yourself

catsuperior111 : sometimes being delulu is the solution😍🙏🙏

landonorris : man fuck you.

landonorris : did you even check who you messaged😭😭

catsuperior111 : in all honesty no☺️

landonorris : SO YOU JUST HAPPENED TO DM ME FROM CURIOSITY?!

catsuperior111 : OMG I DIDNT KNOW YOU HAD THAT IN YOU TO FIGURE IT OUT😨😨‼️‼️

landonorris : WOMAN YOU ARE SOMETHING😭😭

reacted with : 😮‍💨

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, bsfuser and 23,689 others

yourusername small dump📷🍪

view all comments

bsfuser THE CATSSSS😍😍😍

yourusername I KNOW RIGHT?!!!!

yourusername I WAS LITERALLY SHRIEKING WHEN I WALKED DOWN THE STREETS AND SAW THEM🥹🥹🥹

bsfuser LITERALLY THE CUTEST🥹🤏

alexandrasaintmleux 😍😍

liked by author

user17 y/n and her constant post on her lego builds

user35 l literally love her aesthetic😩🤌🤌

user31 she’s literally GLOWING📢📣📣‼️‼️

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

catsuperior111 : do you seriously not post anything??

landonorris : why do you care if i post something or not🤨🤨

landonorris : and who are you to question i post something or not when you have ZERO POST

catsuperior111 : WDYM😠😠

catsuperior111 : i post stuff on my main😒

landonorris : THIS WAS A BURNER ACCOUNT!!

catsuperior111 : yes?

catsuperior111 : did you really think i was going to talk to you using my main🤨

landonorris : most people do

landonorris : yes

catsuperior111 : well i have a burner account for research purposes😍😍🤌🤌

landonorris : WOW

landonorris : no wonder you asked a weird ass question😭😭

catsuperior111 : BINGO✨

catsuperior111 : my main is @yourusername

catsuperior111 : im tired of switching accounts back and forth😪✋

landonorris : lazy ass

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername posted a story!

caption: me and my gang😍🤌🤌✨

view replies!

landonorris why did it take me a while to spot you💀

landonorris you blend in

yourusername YOU THINK I LOOK LIKE A CAT🥹

yourusername Im honoured🫶🥹

yoursister How did you manage to take that with my cats😨😨

yourusername they just love me😩😩✨

bsfuser the cat obsession is getting crazier...

yourusername 🤫

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername : oi

yourusername : i accidently bought two tickets to the eras tour😞😞

yourusername : no wonder they were so expensive!

yourusername : can you come with?

landonorris : do younot have any friends?

yourusername : i do...

yourusername : they ditch moi for they're boyfriends

yourusername : def didn't stand up to bros before hos😕🙄

landonorris : when?

yourusername : OMG UR ACTUALLY WILLING TO GO????!!!

landonorris : its charity work😥

yourusername : ....

yourusername : fuck you

landonorris : also who is stupid enough to decline an eras tour concert ticket WHICH WAS PAID FOR☺️☺️

yourusername : having you as company better be fucking worth it

landonorris : dw it will😗

landonorris : if ur being serious about me going when?

yourusername: 18th of october

landonorris : where?

yourusername : miamiiiii

landonorris : wtf you expect me to fly to miami for you???

yourusername : yes

landonorris : ur paying for my flight ticket

yourusername : WHATTTTT????

yourusername : i am too BROKE for that😔

yourusername : i paid for ur concert ticket...

yourusername : at least pay for the flight

yourusername : give some justice to my bank account☹️🤚

landonorris : fine

landonorris : the things i do to see taylor swift😞😞

yourusername : wow what about meeeee

landonorris : thanks for the ticket🙂

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: i'm literally so sorry for taking so long to release the second part i will be posting more frequent hopefully...😓

taglist: @iamahallucinationnn , @hurtblossom , @papaya-twinks , @kami10471633 , @ahnneyong

262 notes · View notes

heartsandhischier · 1 year ago

Text

definitely the annoying little brother

luke hughes x female!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader

summary - 5.2k words. living in an apartment with your best friend is great, but living in an apartment with your best friend and his brother... not so great

author's note - so... got a little carried away with this one, might write a part 2 idk yet but I love cocky Luke

warnings - mentions of alcohol, swearing, smut (first time writing so hopefully it isn't total shit)

When you first moved to New Jersey, you felt completely lost. Don’t take it the wrong way, it was great—a prestigious college, a change of scenery, and the promise of a fresh start. But your journey took an unexpected turn when you bumber into someone, quite literally crashed into someone, drenching him in your freshly bought coffee.

That someone was Jack, who had also just moved to New Jersey after being drafted by the New Jersey Devils. Like you, he was lost, navigating the unfamiliar terrain of a new beginning. Quickly, you became best friends, each other’s anchor in this new and unfamiliar state. You were each other’s confidants and biggest supporters, always there to lift one another up, no matter the challenge—cheering him on from the stands during his rookie year while he helped you with your schoolwork, or at least tried to…

You supported each other through thick and thin.

When you suddenly found yourself without an apartment, Jack didn’t hesitate to offer you his guest room. What started as a temporary arrangement soon turned into something more permanent, as both of you realized that living together just felt right. What was meant to be a short-term solution naturally evolved into a lasting living situation.

When Luke was drafted, you were perched on the edge of your seat in the apartment, eyes glued to the screen in anticipation as the New Jersey Devils prepared to announce their pick. The moment Luke’s name was called, you jumped up from the couch, overwhelmed with joy. You were thrilled, not just for Luke, but because you knew how much this meant to Jack—being able to play alongside his brother, to grow and improve together on the ice. You watched the screen as Jack sprung from the couch, shaking with excitement. He had told you before, that if Luke was drafted by the Devils, he would move into the apartment. Rather than feeling any apprehension, your strong friendship with Jack made you excited to live with the two brothers.

But here you were, pounding angrily on the shared bathrrom door, “LUKE! Are you fucking kidding me? I’m gonna be late!” The reality of living with Luke was far from pleasant or fun as you had imagined.

Luke was definetely the annoying brother of the three.

Unlike Jack, who was always kidn and considerate, Luke seemed to barely tolerate your presence. He often made snide, witty comments, as if he took some kind of pleasure in getting under your skin.

The apartment had turned into a warzone, filled with incessant arguing, shouting, and tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. In jack’s absence, there was no one to play the peacemaker, no one stopping the two of you from getting at each others throats. Luke was leaving the bathroom a mess, his toiletries scattered everywhere, piling dirty dishes in the sink, not even bothering to put them in the dishwasher, and even taking your clothes out of the dryer and dumping them on the floor so he could use the machine. He even went as far as throwing a party the night before your midterm.You couldn’t hep but feel like he was doing all of this on purpose. You knew he was raised well, with proper manners and common decency—Jack was living proof of that. You knew, you knew he was doing it on purpose. Luke was intentionally firing you up, pushing your buttons. And what bothered you the most, was that it was working.

Luke finally unlocked the bathroom door, and as he swung the it open, a cloud of steam escaped into the hallway. His hair damp, a towel casually wrapped around his waist, showing off his toned muscles. “You don’t need to spend that much time in the bathroom, especially when you end up looking like that,” you snapped, arms crossed in frustration.

“Like what? Incredibly handsome?” Luke shot back, a smug smirk spreading across his face.

“No, like shit,” you fired back, not missing a beat.

“Well, you’re not exactly a sight for sore eyes yourself. So you don’t really need the bathroom before school anyways,” he chuckled, clearly satisfied with his comeback. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and pushed past him, eager to get on with your day.

“Come on Y/N,” Jack whined, his voice dragging, practically on his knees, begging. His team was heading out to celebrate their victory from the night before, and with your schedule finally clear after endless stress, Jack insisted that you’d join them, arguing that you deserved a break. However, his team included a certain someone—Luke. The thought of spending hours into the night, subjected to Luke’s endless barbs and comments, now potentially amplified by alcohol, spelled nothing but trouble in your mind.

“I’ll put you on my tab, if you come,” he offered wiggling his eyebrows, trying to sweeten the deal with the promise of a free night out. You couldn’t help but laugh at his desperation, “Come on, we both know you’d do that anyways,” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully at him.

“Please, I’ll clean the bathroom for the next three weeks,” he proposed.

“Four weeks.”

“Fine, four weeks. And I’ll make you lunch for those weeks too,” he said, extending his hand in a peace offering.

“Deal. But I’ll skip on the lunch since you barely know how to cook brocolli.”

“Aren’t we going to wait for Luke?” you asked, slipping into your boots, a hint of curiousity in your voice. Jack chuckled at your questiong, catching your eyes in the mirror as he straigthened his jacket. “What, have you suddenly become best friend with your ‘enemy’?” he teased. “Absolutely not,” you snorted, “Just wanted to know if I needed to prepare for a battle to get us in the back seat.”

The Uber sped through the bustling streets of New York, skyscrapers flashing by in a blur. Luke had headed out erly with Holtz and Mercer, granting you a rare moment of peace on the drive to the club, free from the usual bickering.

The elevator chimed, announding your arrival at the club’s level. As the doors slid open, you were greeted by a breathtaking panoramic view of New York City—the virbant lights and endless stretched out before you, leaving you momentarily speechless. “Pretty sick, right?” Jack playfully nudged you, his smile infectious, clearly proud of the evening’s choice. The club’s interior buzzed with energy, packed with people moving rhythmically beneath the glow of shimmering lights. The music enveloped the space, so loud and deep that the bass seemed to vibrate through the very floor. With a reassuring grip, jack took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving towards the table where his teammates were gathered.

They all excitedly greeted the two of you, ushering you both to join them at the table. You loved Jack’s teammates—they were just as kind and welcoming as him, making everyone feel included and part of the fun. They had a way of making you feel like you belonged, as if you were a part of the team.

And then there was Luke.

He didn’t even glance in your direction when you approached the table, too invested in his conversation with Timo to care—yeah sure.

As soon as you sat down, the drinks were served—Jack with his usual beer, and for you, a Tom Collins, your all-time favourite. You couldn’t help but chuckle, Jack had even gone out of his way to make sure you got your favourite drink.

After a few more drinks and plenty of hearty laughs, Jack pulled you out of your seat and onto the dance floor. The music immediately took over as you started moving, and you found yourself actually enjoying the moment. Dancing with Jack, you felt genuinely happy, grateful that you’d agreed to go out. In that moment, you forgot all about his annoying little brother.

Dancing, completely lost in the ruthm and music, you noticed your glass was empty. Sldiding through the crowd, you made your way to the bar, skillfully navigating the sea of people, all moving to the same infectious beat. The bartenders were a blur of activity, moving with swift precision as they tried to keep up with the endless stream of orders shouted by eager club-goers.

While waiting to be served, you suddenly felt a hand wrap around your waist. Startled, you turned around, meeting the drunken gaze of a stranger. “What are you getting beautiful?” he slurred. He was undeniably handsome, but the whole encounted made you feel uncomfortable. You tried to respond, but only managed to stumble out an incoherent answer.

He leaned in closed, his breath hot against your ear, “Why don’t I buy you a drink, and then we can continue the party at my place?” a shiver ran down your spine, and not the good kind. All you could muster was a sheepish smile, your mind racing for a way out. In a sudden, unwelcome move, he leaned in, clearly aiming for a kiss. You froze, unable to move, instinctively shutting your eyes, bracing for impact.

But the kiss never came. Eyes still closed, you heard commotion.

“Back off. She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Opening your eyes, you found Luke standing between you and the stranger, his body tense as he had pushed the man away, shielding you from his advances.

“You okay?” Luke asked, his voice softening as he lightly brushed your arm, his towering presence offering an unexpected sense of security. You looked up at him, slowly giving a small nod, your mind still racing. What the fuck just happened?

Without missing a beat, Luke turned to signal the bartender, “Two Tom Collins’ please.” The bartender nodded in acknowledgement and swiftly got to work on the drinks.

As he handed you one of the glasses, Luke’s hand gently found its way to the small of your back, guiding you with a suprising tenderness toward the dance floor. The music, once again, enveloped you, its rhythm quickly helping you forget the uncomfortable encounter at the bar.

You found yourself dancing close to Luke, closer than you had ever been before. You felt weirdly comfortable in Luke’s presence, and it seemed he noticed, his hand resting gently on your hips, his voice teasing. “For someone who complains so much about me, you seem pretty okay with standing this close to me.”

His comment took you by surprise, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You quickly retorded, trying to mask your fluster, “Trust me, if the club wasn’t this packed, I’d be standing lightyears away from you.”

Luke smirked, leaning in closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “Or maybe you’ve just realised how much you actually enjoy my company. All those complaints might just be your way of getting my attention.”

You sturggled to maintain your composure, caught off guard by the unexpected closeness. “Dream on Luke. If I wanted your attention I’d just lock myself in the bathroom with you,” you shot back, trying to sound unfazed.

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you,” he replied with that damn smirk—you wished you could just slap it off his face.

What. Was. Happening?

Confused and a bit flustered, you mustered up an excuse and rushed through the lively crowd toward Jack at the table.

“Enjoying youself?” Jack’s voice pulled you back to reality, his tone playful as he nudged you.

“Fine!” You responed, rolling our eyes at him. “I’m having fun. But you didn’t have to make them get my favourite drink,” you laughed, giving into his bright smile.

Jack joined the laughter, but there was in his response that made it seem like he was laughing at you, not with you. He tilted his head, genuinely puzzled as he looked at you. “I didn’t tell anyone to order your favourite drink.”

“Well, who’s in charge of the tab tonight?”

“Luke.”

The next few weeks, you did everything you could to avoid Luke. The whole situation at the club… it left you confused. It was so unexpected, yet for some reason, you didn’t mind the closeness that you felt that night. But you couldn’t face him. You started waking up hours earlier than necessary just to avoid the usual bathroom fight, lingering around for extrahours before class or work. It was ruining your sleep schedule, but you convinced yourself it was for the best.

Your eyes were glued to the bright screen of your phone—3 AM. You let out a frustrated sigh. You couldn’t sleep. The room felt like an oven, the early arrival of summer in New Jersey wrapping your bedroom in an unbearable warmth. The stress of upcoming exams weighed heavily on your mind. And the thought of having to get up in just two hours to avoid Luke didn’t help much either.

Defeated, you pushed yourself out of bed, sliding into your fluffy slippers. Glancing at your reflection in the mirror, you sighed—you looked a mess. Hair tied up in a messy bun, and Jack’s New Jersey Devils t-shirt hung loosely around you.

Whatever.

At this ungodly hour, no one would see you anyway.

Carefully, you pushed the door open, trying to minimise the telltale creak. With light steps, you tiptoed down the hallway, heading for the kitchen. The gentle glow from the counter lights greeted you, casting a soft, inviting glow over the room—Jack must’ve left it on. However, the comfort quickly turned into dismay when you spotted the very person you’d been trying to hard to avoid for weeks on end—Luke. His back was turned, his curly messy, and a pair of pajama pants hung loosely around his waist. His back muscles, his shoulders—everything was on display.

The sight of him triggered an immediate fight-or-flight response—you needed to get out of there before he noticed you. You turned your heel, but your slippers betrayed you with a sharp squeak against the floor.

“Going somewhere?”

You cleared your throat, gathering the courage to face him as you slowly turned around. There he was, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal cradled in his hands—his midnight snack. “Just needed some water. Didn’t realise I had company,” you managed to say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

He let out a soft chuckle, the spoon in his bowl making lazy circles. “Can’t sleep either, huh? The kitchen’s open for all, y’know.” He wasn’t wrong. Despite your efforts to keep your distance, you did in fact live together, and spaces like the kitchen were neutral ground, even at 3 AM.

“Yeah, I… I guess I’ll just grab that water then,” you replied, navigating the awkward silence that filled the room. You reached for a glass and made your way to the sink—coincidentally right next to where Luke was enjoying his cereal. His presence towering over you as you filled your glass with water.

“You know, for two people who claim to hate each other, we do end up in the same place a lot,” Luke observed with a smirk that you could feel rather than see.

You scoffed, trying to maintain a façade of indifference. “We live in the same apartment, Luke, and your brother is my best friend. Don’t get it twisted.”

“Well, you’re wearing my t-shirt, so don’t blame me for getting the ‘wrong idea’,” he countered.

“This is Jack’s.”

He chuckled lightly. “I’ve been looking for it for weeks, thought I lost it. But now I know you just wanted to feel like you were sleeping next tome.”

You scoffed, annoyed. “In your dreams, asshole.”

He stepped closer, closing the distance between you to mere inches. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked. I’d gladly let you sleep in bed with me,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice as he towered over you.

Heart racing, your voice caught in your throat at the sudden proximity. In a moment of panic, you retreated, mumbling an incoherent “I have to go,” as you hastily made your escape.

The usual calm and comfortable space of your apartment was transformed tonight into lively space buzzing with energy, laughter, and booze. It was Jack’s birthday, and as his best friend, you were determined to throw him the best celebration possible—a surprise party. You pulled all the strings, inviting friends and teammates, and with the off-season granting a rare break, Trevor, Cole, and Alex were able to join the festivities. As you navigated the cluster of people, a glass nestled gently in your grasp, your gaze inadvertently landed on Luke. By his side stood a girl whose laughter harmonised so seamlessly with his, it almost seemed choreographed.

A strange unease began to coil within you at the sight. There was Luke, entiraly absorbed in conversation with whoever this girl was, and something about it unsettled you deeply.

“Seems like Luke’s really hitting it off, huh?” Trevor’s voice cut through the hum of the party, his tone playful yet pointed as he caught your fixed gaze and gave a teasing nudge.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you responded, striving for indifference even as you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You weren’t sure why, but the sight of Luke and that girl, felt like it lodged itself in your chest.

Jack’s laughter soon joined in, bright and unaware of the subtle tension you were feeling. He slapped your shoulder playfully, “Luke’s always been a charmer. Who’s the lucky lady this time?”

You attempted a nonchalant shrug, trying to shake off the knot forming in your stomach. “No idea.”

“This is nice isn’t it?”

The sun was shining, pouring its warmth over Jersey City, a gentle breeze complementing the heat perfectly.

As you wandered through the city with Jack, it felt like old times, just the two of you. His excitement was contagious, sparking a lightness that had been missing for too long.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. And we live together!” he joked, playfully nudging you, but you could sense the underlying truth in his words—he genuinely missed these moments together.

And he was right, it had been a while. The efforts you’d put into avoiding Luke had eventually affected Jack as well, since the two of the basically shared the same schedule. You didn’t want to tell him the truth—that you were avoiding Luke and then possibly having to explain why.

“Yeah, I’ve missed this, it’s just that I’ve been drowning in schoolwork lately.” It was a bad excuse, but it was the best and most realistic you could come up with.

Deciding to take advantage of the beautiful day, you suggested heading to one of your favourite cafes. The idea of soaking up some sun while catching up seemed perfect. Once you found a spot in the outdoor seating area, you offered to go in and order for the two of you. By the time you returned with to coffees, the dynamic at your table had unexpectedly changed. Two additional figures were now seated beside Jack, their curls a dead giveawat—you recognised those curls anywhere. A sigh escaped your lips as Jack, beaming with enthusiasm, gestured towards them. “Hey, Y/N! Look who I found!” the two curlyheads turned to face you, John and Luke greeting you with smiles, with Luke’s carrying his signature, teasing smirk.

Reluctantly, you put on a fake smile and settled into the chair next to Jack, doing your best to remain composed, polite, and NOT awkward. The conversation flowed effortlessly around you, but you remained quiet, occasionally offering a nod or a brief reply. Your eyes shifted between John and Jack, deliberately avoiding Luke, as if by ignoring him, you could somehow make the situation less complicated.

Eventually , John and Luke made their casual exit. You managed a tight smile and a polite wave, holding on to your façade of composure until they were out of sight. The moment they were gone, jack’s attention snapped back to you, his brows furrowed in confusion and curiosity. “Why were you acting so weird?”

Suddenly, the café’s cosy outdoor setting felt more like an interrogation room, and you were in the hot seat.

“Wha-what do you mean?” your voice wavered despite the smile you plastered on. “I was not!” you countered, hoping the denial sounded more convincing to his ears than it did to yours.

Jack’s eyes widened in shock, as if he had just cracked the code. The revelation seemed to knock him off balance, almost sending him tumbling off his chair. “Oh my god,” he whispered, a mix of genuine shock and amusement in his voice as a chuckle escaped.

“You’re sleeping with John, aren’t you?”

A wave of relief washed over you at his misinterpretation. It was better than telling him about Luke, right? After all, jack was still Luke’s older brother, and you couldn’t risk jeopardising your friendship with Jack, even if whatever was going on with Luke meant something.

Caught between the fear of losing your best friend and the chaos of the moment, you found yourself nodding along before the word “yes” tumbled out. And now, you possibly just made your situation even messier.

Once again, you found yourself at a bar with Jack and his teammates, the night serving as a farewell toast before everyone dispered for the off-season. The bar buzzed with a contagious mix of laughter and the clinking of glasses, everyone savouring each other’s company before the inevitable goodbyes. Throughout the evening, you’d successfully avoided both Luke and john, skillfully navigating the minefield of awkward encounters. You also… may have indulged in a few too many drinks to steady your nerves.

As you found yourself back at the bar for yet another round of liquid courage, you sensed someone approaching. Turning around, it wasn’t Luke’s familiar curls, but John’s. you managed a somewhat forced smile as he settled beside you. “Hey, Y/N, having fun?” he asked with a smile.

You nervously accepted your drink as it arrived, taking a sip that was perhaps a bit too eager. “Yeah, it’s great hanging out with you guys!”

An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of your silent sipping. John’s laughter suddenly cut through the tension, breaking the ice with ease as he chuckled at the obvious awkwardsness of the situation. “Y’know, Jack’s been chirping me relentlessly tonight. Mentioning something… interesting… about us.” You groaned, mentally facepalming yourself.

With a playful gesture, he pointed his finger between the both of you, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Did… did we sleep together one night and I just forgot?”

“No no no!” you rushed to clarify, flailing your hands around, desperate to clear up the situation. John, is of course, handsome, and after a few too many drinks on a night out, it could’ve happened under different circumstances. The absurdity of it all hit both of you at once, and you burst out laughing, dissolving any lingering awkwardness between the two of you.

John theaterically placed a hand over his heart. “Phew, good. Wouldn’t want Luke getting all jealous on me.” Your laughter echoed his, agreeing wholeheartedly—until his words fully registered. You never mentioned Luke. “What did you say?”

John merely winked and offered you a pat on the shoulder before making his exit, leaving you at the bar, more puzzled than ever.

As the evening unfolded, the flow of drinks seemed never-ending, each one blurring into the next. Suddenly, you found yourself seated in the passengerseat of a car, the lights of New Jersey streaking past you in a dizzyin display. Barely able to keep your eyes open in your drunken state, you looked over to the driver’s seat—Luke. “What are you doing? You shouldn’t be driving,” you slurred.

“I was sober tonight, Y/N. and you… you were way too drunk. We’re going home,” Luke responded, his tone lacking its usual lightness, replaced by a firm, blunt edge. The drive was engulfed in silence, a tensions hanging in the air that even your drunken haze couldn’t miss.

“So, cosying up with John?” Luke remarked, a hint of something indefinable in his tone.

Luke had seen you at the bar. His voice carried a weight, one that echoed the same unease you felt when you saw him with that girl at Jack’s birthday.

Words failed you as you tried to respond, a string of incoherent mumbles and half-formed words spilling out of your mouth. You felt like you were burning up, put on the spot, panicking. “Trying to make me jealous?” You blinked in shock at his question. There was no hint of anger in Luke’s voice; instead, he sounded amused. You could feel his smirk.

As you finally mustered up the courage to face him, there it was—that infuriating, captivating smirk. Part of you wanted to punch it off his face, yet another part for inexplicably drawn to it. “I… I wasn’t…” you stuttered, struggling to articulate your thoughts. Luke let out a soft chuckle, one hand leaving the steering wheel, landing comfortably on your thigh.

“I’ll admit it, I got a bit jealous. But I know John wouldn’t do that to me,” he said, giving you thigh a gentle squeeze. You were totally lost. Luke was jealous? Why? You weren’t trying to make him jealous. Your intentions had been the polar opposite—you were trying to avoid him.

And here you were, alone, in the car, with Luke.

“And I know you wouldn’t do that either. You’re too charmed by me, aren’t you?” The car came to a stop; you were outside the apartment. Luke finally turned to meet your gaze. His question hung in the air, leaving you speechless. You weren’t interested in Luke, at all. You were just confused.

Right?

“Is that the reason why you’ve been avoiding me?” His words struck a nerve—he knew. He knew that you had, in fact, been avoiding him. You found yourself locked in his gaze, unable to pry your eyes away. Luke didn’t look away either; it was as if he was uncovering every secret, exploring every inch of you with his eyes.

In a swift, almost breathless moment, he leaned over, his lips finding yours. The kiss caught you by surprise, yet the thought of pulling away never crossed your mind. Instead, you found yourself surrendering—melting into the warmth of his lips. Your hand instinctively found its way to his curls, fingers weaving through them, pulling him closer,deepening the kiss.

You were moving in perfect sync.

His hand reached out, unlatching your seatbelt, freeing your from its restraint. With an ease of urgency, you climbed over the midconsole, never losing the precious contact between the two of you.

His hands found their way to your hips, finger pressing into the soft fabric of your clothes, pulling you even closer. Arching your back at the contact, your clothed core merely inches away from him, only your clothes separating you. Intoxication swept over you, but it wasn’t the alcohol swirling through your veins that left you dizzy – it was Luke. it was the touch of his hands roaming around your body, the feeling of his lips on yours, it was him. And you needed more. Your hands seemed to take on a life of their own, grasping at his shoulders, tugging at his curls, wrapping around his neck – anything to be closer to Luke.

Lost in the moment, straddling Luke in the drivers seat as you deepened the kiss. His hands on your hips, pulling you closer as you grind against him, feeling him harden beneath you. The friction was maddening, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

You simply couldn’t help yourself.

With a groan, Luke pulls away, leaving you both gasping for air. But the respite is short-lived as you felt Luke’s fingers grazing your inner thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He hooked his fingers under the edge of your panties, pulling them to the side. You bit down on your lip, trying to stifle the moan that threatened to escape as he slips inside, his fingers finding your clit with ease.

But you can’t, you’d been wanting this, needing this, needing him. Needing Luke.

You let out a soft moan, giving yourself over to the feeling of his fingers exploring your most sensitive area. At first, Luke’s fingers moved in small, teasing circles, bareuly brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, just watching you fall apart on top of him.

In the haze of pleasure, you found yourself drawn to Luke’s eyes. They were dark, intense, however, there was a hint of care, and maybe even love, taking in every moment of your reaction to his touch.

You couldn’t look away if you tried. Trapped in his gaze, the car filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and whimpers – you didn’t want to escape.

Luke’s eyes never left yours, watching with rapt attention as your breath hitched in your throat. Your face flushed, eyes closed tight, feeling the pressure building inside you. Luke’s fingers sped up, pressing harder against your clit.

Suddenly, your vision faded, the orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire, your body shaking with the force of your release.

Collapsing on top of him, your breath coming in short, sharp, gasp as you tried to catch your breath. Luke pushed away the mess of your hair, gently caressing your chin, tilting your face so you could meet his gaze. He was smiling, not the usual shit eating smirk, but smiling with genuine care and affection.

What just happened?

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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago

Text

Serendipity*

Summary-Harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. It all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. As panic sets in, Harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. From that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both.

Words: 5k

Warnings: LOVE! SO MUCH LOVE AND SWEETNESS AND SOFTNESS IN THIS ONE! BUT ALSO-kissing, bathing together, p in v sex, a bit of cursing, loads of fluff.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

You stood in the bridal suite, your best friend Amelia bustling around in her stunning wedding gown. The room was a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, joy, and a hint of nervousness. It was her big day, and you couldn't have been happier for her.

Months of planning had led to this moment, and you had been Ame’s right-hand woman every step of the way. The dress, the flowers, the decorations—you had been there for it all. Today was the culmination of her dreams, and you were thrilled to witness her marry the love of her life.

As the time for the ceremony approached, you could feel your heart beating faster. You had the honor of being her maid of honor, and you couldn't wait to stand by her side as she walked down the aisle. But there was one small hiccup—the absence of your escort.

Panic set in as you looked around the room, realizing that you were missing the crucial piece of the bridal party puzzle. "Where's my escort?" you asked, your voice betraying the tension building inside you.

Ames looked at you with concern. "What do you mean? Did something happen to your partner? He was supposed to be here long ago–"

Your mind raced, trying to figure out a solution. The best man was missing. Great. Now, you were left without a partner, the groom was left without the best man, and the thought of walking down the aisle alone made your stomach churn.

You fiddled with your fingers, heart throbbing in your chest as your mind reeled. This was a disaster. So many people couldn’t make it–most of them were supposed to be there for backup if anything bad happened and now, along with them,–your escort was missing too. You were beginning to think if you were the bad luck here.

“I’ll see if someone else is willing, the guests are already out there and I’ll look like a moron but I will–” you rambled, sweat forming on your forehead. This was a bad habit of yours. Panicking so much that you wore yourself down, and if you didn’t breathe and relax, your makeup and hair would be ruined and–

Just as you were about to leave the room in a haste, the door knocked. You all looked at each other with curious gazes, oblivious to who it was.

“Who is that? All of us are here and maybe it’s your dad–”

You stood by the door, taking a deep breath, preparing yourself to explain it all in case they ask what is taking so long.

But, as you opened the door, you opened it slightly, just in case it was the groom, Eddie.

To your surprise, it was someone else–someone you haven't met before. He was sharply dressed, suit and all, piercing green eyes looking straight into yours.

“I’m sorry-I don’t know you” you asked, and he smiled.

“I’m Harry. I’m a friend of Amelia’s brother. Your escort wasn’t here and Eddie was freaking out, so he sent me here”

You searched his eyes, and they were so calm, so soft. Your heartbeat began to steady, and you walked out of the door, closing it shut, even though it was time.

“You’re sure you won’t mind? Or you're not taken by someone else?”

He chuckled, a sound that you know you will be longing to hear once again.

“No-I’m not taken by someone else. That’s why I came here. To help you in case you need it. What’s your good name?”

You were lost in the way his lips moved as he talked, completely phasing out and not listening to a word he said. God, he was so pretty.

“Hello?” he asked once again, completely aware of how your gaze was fixated on him. He couldn’t lie, he knew he looked irresistible. But the way you were ogling him in the time of crisis–it was something he hadn’t seen before.

“Hello” he said again, waving his hand over your face to obstruct your view, and that’s what broke your gaze. You blinked rapidly, mumbling “Sorry” before asking him what he said.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. But–what about the best man?”

“I am the best man. It was supposed to be Archie, I know. But this wedding was a last minute plan and he’s drunk as hell right now in Vegas.”

“Oh God. I told them not to get married one week after the proposal. But who would listen to me? I’m just the maid of honor after all. I swear if anything, anything happens, I will–” You were stopped by him, as he said, “Y/n. The wedding”

“Yeah. sorry”

You pulled the door back open, Ames coming out, and Harry fawned over how perfect she looked. He was like a brother to her, and you never met this gorgeous, gorgeous man till now. How?

Her father came soon, ready to walk her down the aisle.

You look at her one last time, her face glowing and so, so pretty. Her hair, the dress, the veil–it’s all so perfect.

“Let’s walk you down the aisle.”

>>>

As you made your way down the aisle, all eyes were on you and Harry. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but Harry's hand on your arm gave you the confidence to keep walking with your head held high.

You could see Amelia and her soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle, both looking nervous and excited. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, knowing how much they loved each other. The priest stood behind them , ready to commence the wedding.

As you reached the altar, Harry stepped aside and you took your place next to Amelia. The ceremony began and you couldn't help but feel emotional as you watched your best friend exchange vows with the love of her life. The rings were exchanged, and kisses and promises were made. It was the perfect wedding that she had planned, and you were so glad you would make it happen for her in such short notice.

During the reception, Harry proved to be the perfect replacement for the missing best man. He made everyone laugh with his witty jokes and kept the party going with his dance moves. After the dance of the bride and groom, everyone was slow dancing–even your father and mother, and they looked so cute together.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping water and looking at them all.

Harry appeared beside you, letting you finish up your water, before looking down at you, offering you his hand, “Can I have a dance?” he asked.

You smiled, wiping some of the drops from your lips carefully, and nodding happily.

“I would love to dance with you, Harry”

You held his hand and got up, letting him lead you to the dance floor. Once you stood in front of each other, you instinctively placed your arm on his shoulder, his coming to rest on your waist. You both held each other’s hands then–intertwining your fingers, and they fit so perfectly.

As the music started to play, you could feel Harry’s body moving in sync with yours. He led you gracefully around the dance floor, his steps confident and smooth.

You couldn’t help but admire his movements, the way he effortlessly glided across the floor.

“You’re a fantastic dancer, Y/N” Harry whispered in your ear, making you blush at the praise.

“Thank you, but I think you’re the one making me look good,” you replied, teasingly. He chuckled, spinning you around before pulling you back into his arms. Your chests collided, and you looked up at him, getting lost in his piercing green eyes.

“You know, I could get used to dancing with you like this” Harry said, his voice low and husky, his words meant for your ears only. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your body closer to his, feeling the heat radiating between the two of you.

“I could too” you breathed out, feeling your heart flutter at the intense gaze he was giving you. The two of you continued to dance, your bodies moving fluidly together as if you were one. You could feel the music pulsing through your veins, heightening every touch and every movement.

As the song came to an end, Harry pulled you into a gentle embrace, his hand caressing your back soothingly.

“That was amazing, Y/N” he said, his voice full of admiration.

“I couldn’t agree more, '' you replied, a smile spreading across your face, and a blush spread across your cheeks.

As the night went on, you and Harry found ourselves lost in each other's company. You talked about everything and anything, laughing and sharing stories. You found yourself enjoying his company more and more as the night went on. He was charming, funny, and easy to talk to. You couldn't believe you had just met him today.

But as the night came to an end, it was time for the bride and groom to leave. You both rushed back to the reception, saying your goodbyes to them before they left.

But before, it was time for her to toss the bouquet.

Everyone cheered as she came into view, holding the bouquet as all the single girls gathered behind her, ready to catch it and be the next to marry. You didn’t have a boyfriend, but you wanted to be there for her.

"Alright, here goes nothing!" Amelia exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

As the bouquet soared through the air, you watched in amazement, hardly daring to believe her luck. In a surreal moment, the bouquet seemed to be heading directly towards you, almost as if guided by fate itself. Without even consciously trying, your hands instinctively reached out, and to your astonishment, you felt the soft petals and stems of the bouquet in your grasp.

Gasps of surprise echoed around the room as you stood there, stunned, clutching the bouquet tightly to your chest. You quickly glanced around, wide-eyed, as the other girls congratulated you with genuine smiles, though perhaps tinged with a hint of envy.

Amelia, the radiant bride, beamed at you, her eyes shining with joy. "Looks like someone's next in line for love!" she teased, her voice filled with excitement.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of happiness and disbelief wash over you. "I-I can't believe it! And I don’t even have a boyfriend" you stammered, voice shaky and still in shock from the unexpected turn of events.

Soon, it was time for them to leave, and as Ames and Eddie said their goodbyes, kissing and laughing as they sat in the car, ready to leave.

You hugged her for one last time, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Pulling back, he pulled her back, and they both got in the car, driving away.

It was all like a dream. A perfect dream that had come true.

You were happy, smiling as you watched their car disappear into the darkness, and it was after a while that you realized you had lost harry.

Panic started to set in as you searched every corner of the reception hall, but Harry was nowhere to be found. You asked around, but no one had seen him. Just as you were about to give up and accept that you had lost him, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw Harry standing there with a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, I got lost in the crowd, and then some girl came to talk to me, and I think she was trying to get my number, but I shrugged her off. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you,” he said, his eyes full of sincerity.

Relief flooded through you as he pulled you into a tight hug. “I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you either,” you replied, hugging him back just as tightly. It was instinct, and none of you cared that you had hugged.

Pulling back, you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment too long. You wanted to say something, wanted to ask him if he was taken, but you were scared.

He definitely was taken. A charming British man who looked so good, made you laugh and was so perfect.

So, you decided to shrug it off, the feeling of wanting to hold him once again, pulling at the strings of your heart. He was perfect, so perfect. And so dreamy.

“So–you shrugged off a girl?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood, and to dissipate the thick tension in the air between you two.

“Oh–yeah” he chuckled, one which you were maybe hearing for the last time.

“Yeah, so was being a bit touchy, and I was uncomfortable, so I told her. And–then she asked for my number, so-”

“So?”

“I said no”

“Because–you’re seeing someone? Because if you’re not, that was kinda stupid–I think. Weddings are real meet-cutes.” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

“No–uh, um, I’m not seeing someone, it’s just–I didn’t want her number. I–I wanted yours.”

The words hit you like a brick wall. You were not expecting him to say that. The girl who approached him was probably pretty, and definitely prettier than you. Then why did he say no to her, and yes to you?

“Me–cool cool cool cool cool” you stammered, and looked down, blushing and having no idea what to say next.

He sensed your dilemma, and held your hand in his.

“Y/n–please, look at me”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to. He was so pretty and so perfect and here he was, standing in front of you, asking for your number after rejecting someone else.

And you knew, if you looked up, you would definitely fall in love with him.

Harry waited for you to look up at him, and when you didn’t, he lifted his right hand, holding your chin softly and lifting your face up, making you look into his eyes.

And it was over for you. You fell for him.

“Y/n–I really like you. And what we shared today–the dance, the talks, the laughs–it was so perfect. You’re so perfect. And I didn’t talk to that girl or dance or laugh with her. I did all that with you. And–I think I’ve fallen for you”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you choked out a laugh. It was so unexpected, but it felt like it was meant to be. His hand was in yours, and he was holding it with so much promise. And on your other hand, was the bouquet. A promise.

“Y/n–will you go on a date with me?” he asked, and you nodded immediately, wiping a stray tear that had fallen on your cheeks. You immediately pulled him in for a hug, holding him close tightly, never wanting to let go.

>>>

Your first date was a week later.

Harry called you to his house, and he had texted you his address. He didn’t say what he had planned for tonight. He wanted it to be a surprise, and you knew it would be beautiful.

As you arrived at Harry's house, your heart fluttered with anticipation. You had no idea what he had planned for tonight, but you knew it would be something special, just like him. Stepping out of your car, you made your way to his front door, excitement bubbling inside you.

Harry greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he led you inside. "I'm so glad you're here," he said, taking your hand in his. "I've got something amazing planned for us tonight."

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. "I can't wait to see what you've come up with," you replied, your heart pounding with anticipation.

After a quick drive, you arrived at a secluded spot far from the city lights, where the stars shone brightly overhead. The air was crisp and cool, and the sound of laughter and music filled the night.

"What is this place?" you asked, gazing around in wonder at the vibrant scene before you.

Harry grinned, his eyes dancing with excitement. "It's a lantern festival," he explained, looking so happy. "I thought it would be the perfect setting for our first date."

You felt a surge of delight at the sight of the colorful lanterns lighting up the night sky. "It's incredible," you exclaimed, taking in the festive atmosphere around you.

As you wandered through the festival, hand in hand with Harry, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. Everywhere you looked, couples and families were gathered together, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"We should release a lantern," Harry suggested, his eyes shining with excitement. "But what should we write on it?"

You paused for a moment, pondering the question. And then, a smile spreads across your face as an idea forms in your mind. "How about our initials?" you suggested, squeezing Harry's hand gently.

He smiled back at you, his eyes soft with affection. "I love that idea," he replied, pulling you close for a hug.

Together, you made your way to the lantern station, where a kind elderly man handed you a lantern and a marker.

“This is so beautiful, Harry. Thank you for this” you thanked him, as he, with trembling hands, wrote your initials on the surface of the lantern. He smiled at you, finishing it up, and taking your hand once again, ready to light it up and set it afloat.

You reached the top of the hill, heart pounding in your chest as you stopped. He held the lantern, and you carefully lit the matchstick, lighting the tiny wick under it on fire.

With Harry by your side, you watched as the lantern soared gracefully into the air, its soft glow illuminating the darkness around you.

After that, there was a second date. And then a third, after which, you both started dating.

It was at dinner at a restaurant, and he had specifically naked you to dress up for it. You knew he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t help calm your nerves.

You had worn a red dress, one that you had bought a long time ago. It still fits you well, and you couldn’t wait for Harry to see you in this.

As you stepped into the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the elegant dining room, casting a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw you, dressed in the red dress you had carefully chosen for this occasion. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you, for a moment too long. That was exactly what you had wished when you put it on.

"You look absolutely stunning." he complimented, finally lifting his gaze from the dress and bringing it to your face.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you took in his handsome appearance as well, dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his strong features. "Thank you," you replied, smiling shyly. "You don't look too bad yourself."

As you settled into your seats, the air crackled with anticipation. Harry reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I wanted tonight to be special," he began, his voice soft and earnest. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, sensing the gravity of his words. "What is it?" you asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes shining with emotion. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together, and ‘m really happy when I’m with you," he confessed. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, Harry, yes!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace.

He pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss that sent sparks flying. The world fell away as you melted into each other, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

After dinner, you made your way back to Harry's place, the anticipation building with each step. As you entered his apartment, the air hummed with electricity, charged with the promise of what was to come.

You kissed each other, hands pulling at each other’s clothes and pulling them off. You reached the bedroom, laughing and giggling,and locking the door.

You stood in front of Harry, your hands running down his chest, you couldn't help but admire the muscles that rippled beneath his skin. His hands traced the curves of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a shy smile forming on your lips. “And you're so handsome,” you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, moving in perfect sync as your tongues danced together. You could feel the heat building between your bodies, the need for each other growing with each passing moment.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Harry's hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your own need for him evident in the way your body pressed against his. He led you to the bedroom, your hands never leaving each other's bodies. As you entered the room, the soft glow of candles greeted you, casting a warm light on the bed.

Harry gently pushed you down onto the soft sheets, his lips trailing down your neck as he peppered kisses along your skin. “You're so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his hands caressing every inch of your body.

You moaned at his touch, the sensations overwhelming you. His lips moved down to your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let out a soft moan.

He moved lower, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your stomach. Your breath hitched as he reached your core, his tongue tracing circles around your clit. You let out a low moan, your hips moving in rhythm with his mouth.

“Harry,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as he continued to pleasure you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he added a finger inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. His finger was moving so well, hitting all the right spots.

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with need. “I'm going to come,” you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair.

As you reached your peak, Harry's lips never leaving your body, you let out a cry of pleasure, your body shaking with ecstasy. He crawled back up to you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss, his hand moving to pleasure you once again.

As he entered you, your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure coursing through every inch of your being. Your moans filled the room, mixing with Harry's as your bodies moved as one.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his own climax.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you reached your peak together, your bodies trembling with pleasure.

You lay in each other’s arms, breathing ragged, but bodies satisfied and contented. He pulled you close, kissing your forehead and cheeks, making you feel so pretty.

“We should clean up. Have a bath with me?” he asked after a moment or so, and you nodded. He pulled you close, but your legs were like jello, so he lifted you up like a koala, and carried you to the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet seat in case you wanted to pee, and went to get the shower ready.

You both cleaned each other. Blowing bubbles and suds, throwing water at each other, gigging, and so happy.

You threw some water at him, and a bit of soap got in his eyes. You panicked, immediately running the tap again and helping him wash it.

“Oh fuck—I’m sorry, Harry–I dodn’t mean to, I was just playing, are you alright?”

He started giggling, throwing his arms at his chest and laughing at you like you were a clown.

“Ahhh” you yelled, throwing water at him again, and yelling at him for making you scared. He pulled you close once again, kissing your mouth as you lay in there for what felt like hours.

>>>

The next few months of your relationship were a blur, each moment with Harry feeling like a dream come true. You both were incredibly compatible, sharing laughter, adventures, and countless memories together. But just as your love was blossoming, a job opportunity arose for Harry – one that would take him to another state for a year.

At first, the news felt like a punch to the gut. The thought of being apart from Harry filled you with an overwhelming sense of sadness and uncertainty. But as you talked it over with him, you realized that this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. It was a chance for him to advance in his career, to chase his dreams, and you couldn't be prouder of him.

So, you made a promise to each other – to make the most of the time you had left together, to cherish every moment, and to stay connected no matter the distance. As the days passed, you cherished each date, each kiss, and each shared laugh as if it were your last.

And when the day finally came for Harry to leave, it was bittersweet. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held him tight, unwilling to let go. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but love and determination.

"I'll be back before you know it," he promised, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I'll call you every chance I get, I promise."

With a heavy heart, you watched him drive away, the distance between you growing with each passing mile. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you stayed connected through phone calls, texts, and video chats.

And despite the distance, your love only grew stronger. You supported each other through the challenges, celebrated each other's successes, and counted down the days until you could be together again.

>>>

The days apart seemed to stretch on endlessly, each one filled with a longing that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of your being. You counted down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until you would once again be reunited with Harry, your heart aching with the absence of his presence.

But even in the midst of the pain, you held onto the memories of your time together, each one a beacon of light in the darkness of your separation. You replayed the moments you had shared in your mind, savoring the warmth of his touch, the sound of his laughter, the depth of his love.

And then, at long last, the day arrived. You stood at the airport, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the crowd for any sign of Harry. And then, there he was, striding towards you with that familiar smile that melted your heart.

You ran into his arms, tears of joy streaming down your face as you held him close, unable to believe that he was finally here, with you, where he belonged.

And then, in a moment that felt like something out of a fairytale, Harry got down on one knee, his eyes shining with love as he held out a small velvet box.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never want to spend another day apart from you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Your heart swelled with love as you nodded, tears of happiness blurring your vision. Harry slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit, just like the two of you.

And as you embraced, you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. This was the moment that made all the distance and all the struggles worth it. You were here, in each other's arms, and nothing else mattered.

"I promise to always love you," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "To support you, to stand by your side no matter what."

"I promise to make every day with you an adventure," he continued, his eyes locked on yours. "To cherish and adore you for all eternity."

And as he leaned in to kiss you, you knew that this was just the beginning of your magical love story. A story that had been tested by distance and time, but had only grown stronger because of it.

And as you held each other close, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you had found your serendipity – a love that was unexpected, yet destined, a love that would guide you through every twist and turn of life's journey, forever and always. You never knew that you had found the love of your life at that wedding, the person who was your last-minute escort would be the one you would marry one day, and love and cherish forever.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

i love you all 💌tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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gothamite-rambler · 10 days ago

Text

Based on that comic where Jason dies for Bruce against an evil robot, but instead, Bruce and Jason that's a selfish, dumb decision so Dick steps up. Don't worry he'll be fine and I like Grayson.

Bruce and his kids were in the Batcave, desperately searching for a solution to stop the evil robot he had created while under the influence of Zurr. Water, firearms, and electrifying the contraption had all yielded no results, leaving only one option.

Bruce: We need someone to take the killing blow from the robot. It can’t be me. I’m not that dead inside.

Silence hung in the air as none of his children volunteered.

Bruce: It won’t be that bad. You die, and then I’ll place you in a secret Lazarus Pit. The robot gets defeated, you get brought back to life, and I’ll buy you a meal for a job well done. Who’s going to take the kill shot?

Damian: I can—

Dick (pulling Damian close to his side): You weren’t included in this.

Damian: I’ve died before, I can do it again. Let me be the one who dies to save the day.

All the men: YOU’RE NOT DYING!

Damian: You rarely let me be a true hero.

Bruce: Anyone else? That’s not me or Damian.

Dick, Tim, and Damian all turned to Jason, who was meticulously cleaning his gun chamber while humming a Chappell Roan song. When he glanced to the side and noticed his brothers staring at him, his brows furrowed in offense.

Jason (continuing to clean, deadpan): I dare you to use me as the sacrificial lamb, and I'm taking all of you with me.

Bruce (alarmed, eyebrows shooting up): Why are you looking at Jason? He is NOT the one who’s taking the death punch! I would never do that to him after all the amends we made! Did you honestly think I wanted him to volunteer?

The three men fell silent, caught off guard by Bruce's explosive reaction.

Bruce (stunned, eyes widened): You did!

Rising from his seat, Bruce did something unexpected, he hugged Jason tightly.

Bruce (fiercely protective, voice low): Just because he’s an adult doesn’t mean he has to go through that again! He doesn’t have to prove himself by dying for me. A few years ago, I might’ve been deluded enough to think so, but it’s already my fa—fa— the words hurt... My fault that the robot is causing us trouble.

Jason: Are you secretly Zurr, and this is all a trick to take my guard down and brainwash me again?

Bruce: Jason, no. I lo—lo—love you. I don’t say that a lot, but when I do, I always mean it.

Jason (noting Bruce’s embrace): Hm… okay then.

Dick (hesitant): I mean, we weren’t wording it like that. He has died and for much longer than Damian— That didn’t come out right.

Bruce (firmly): Nobody will hurt him like that again! Shame on all of you for even thinking I’d Sophie's Choice him or that he’d volunteer!

Jason’s eyes shifted, feeling weirded out by the sudden display of compassion. But gradually, it sunk in that Bruce genuinely wasn’t throwing him under the bus for the evil robot. Seizing the opportunity, he played up the emotion.

Jason (sniffling, voice trembling): This hurts me so much, guys… I thought we were brothers. They want me to die again! I just want to be part of the family, not like this.

Bruce (softening, comforting Jason): It’s fine. I will deal with them later, especially Tim and Dick. I can see they wanted you to volunteer as tribute.

Dick (panicked, defending himself): I wasn’t saying that! He makes jokes about dying all the time! Jason said earlier that if he had to die again, it would be only if he was put back in the Lazarus Pit.

Jason (fake crying): I told you that in confidence!

Dick: You’re not throwing me under the bus. Tim was the one actually ready to shove Jason into the lion's den.

Tim punched Dick on the arm, anger in his eyes.

Tim (exasperated): All I’m saying is he’s already died and was tossed into the Lazarus Pit! It makes the most sense!

Damian (dramatic, crossing his arms): You know I get why I’m removed from sacrificing myself. I’m the youngest. Jason, being the second oldest and having already died, shouldn’t be the lamb. You two should be ashamed of suggesting he die a second time.

Jason: I respect you for switching sides.

Damian: That’s what I’m here for.

Tim (snapping back): Traitor!

Damian: Traitor or not, if he’s not taking the blow, neither will I.

Bruce pulled away from Jason, silently debating if there was another way, or another person, who could trigger the robot’s self-destruct function.

Jason: I’m more than just the death guy, and you two need to remember that.

Dick: Oh, shut up!

Cass walked over with her arms behind her back.

Cass: I volunteer as tribute. I have also died, and I can do it again. Just give me the signal.

Stephanie raced over, scooping Cass up like a firefighter rescuing someone from a burning building.

Stephanie: My swan will not be dying either!

Cass giggled, a bright smile on her face. Bruce groaned, remembering that Stephanie had a crush on his daughter and how he hadn't succeeded in changing Cass's mind.

Cass: I know we talked about dating in two years, but there’s no need to be protective.

Stephanie: The men can pick who will be used, not us ladies. Don’t think about asking Barbara either!

Stephanie walked off, continuing to carry Cass.

Duke: I haven’t worked with you guys long enough to be killed, so don’t even look in my direction.

Bruce: We have to pick someone quickly.

Dick sighed somberly, closing his eyes as he realized he was about to make a decision he would probably regret later.

Dick: I’ll do it! When I die, you immediately toss me in the stupid pit, and no one try to change my mind about this.

Damian: What? What? No!

Damian hugged his brother's leg, surprising him, then pulled away quickly, blushing at showing such emotion.

Dick (relaxed, then worried): It’s going to work out. It’s going to work out, right?

Bruce (worried hesitation staring away from Dick): It… should.

Tim: You hesitated.

Bruce: I genuinely don’t want any of you to die for my mistake! It will work out; you’ll be dead for a short time, then wake up remembering very little about the experience.

Jason: Your killer will be dead too... that’s another silver lining.

Jason chuckled, glancing at Bruce to see his reaction. His father simply shook his head.

Bruce: You’re lucky I love you so much and let you make that joke.

Jason (returning to cleaning his guns): Yeah, I’m a treasure.

Tim (realization sinking in): Are we really letting Dick fight the evil robot? That’s happening? I don’t want to lose him either!

Tim hugged Dick, making the older man laugh at the moment.

Dick: I forgot you were a fan before you became Robin. Be at the Lazarus Pit when I wake back up from ‘death' that's all that matters.

Tune in next time

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dustysalmon · 6 months ago

Text

Eye of the Storm - Chapter 1

Pairing: Silco x Reader Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: graphic depiction of violence; slow burn; enemies to lovers, enforcer!reader Word count: 4.5k

Summary: After a chain of unexpected events, Jinx is arrested, and you find yourself in possession of the gemstone. On top of it all, you are forced into a reluctant alliance with Silco. What else could possibly go wrong?

Takes up at the end of episode 7.

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It is not the first time your unit has been called to assist at the borders, although it’s been years since topside ordered a complete blockade.

The panic had been evident on the councillors faces during the meeting that preceded your affectation. They fear the escalation of violence after the bombing in the city center as well as the murder of several enforcers earlier this week. There have even been rumours of an organised rebellion rising from the undercity, ready to strike multiple strategic places in Piltover. But those are just that, rumours. You have heard other rumours. Apparently, whoever killed those enforcers also decided to drop by the safe holds of the Council and steal something. The authorities have been suspiciously secretive about the ordeal, but you have a feeling it has to do with hextech. And the Council, usually quick to shy away from firm countermeasures, has made the decision to take a stand a little too rashly for your taste. This, plus the sudden removal of Heimerdinger’s seat at the table… No, there is something else at stake here, something bigger and perhaps more preoccupying than they are letting on.

And so here you are, on the south east bridge, among dozens of other enforcers. They don’t seem too aware or concerned about the actual reason for their presence, but they certainly appear to enjoy roughing up a couple Zaunites just for the thrill of it. Within the span of two days, you have already sent eight of your officers home. Young hot shots, mostly here to see some action and prove themselves in front of their comrades. People who shouldn’t be in the force to begin with, but the enforcers’ body always has and will continue to accept just about anybody within their ranks. It was a cesspool of violent and morally lacking folks long before you arrived and will remain exactly that for years to come.

The majority of the officers mobilised for the Council’s big display of power aren’t trained to handle riots anyway, that much is obvious, and the entire situation is bound to turn to shit eventually. Regardless, you have traded your rifle for a good old baton, and encouraged your men to do the same. The firearm is tightly secured at your back— you’re lenient, not stupid—but the rioters have been fairly docile since the first barricades were installed, armed with nothing more than cardboard signs and harmless smoke bombs. Hardly a challenge at all, not to mention, you would like to avoid needless mayhem if you can help it. Your superior, Warren, strongly disagrees. Well, superior in name only; the man barely has any field experience, hardly ever steps out of the comfort of Piltover; a textbook office rat. If you had to guess, you would say this is the first time he’s actually come face to face with Zaunites. He has never hidden his utter repulsion for the latter— he usually refers to them as trenchers— and this new assignment is a godsend. He would drown them all in the gutter if he had his way. Halas, the Sheriff’s position was swept right from under his nose by Marcus, equally hateful and ambitious at the time. The years have tamed him for sure, although you still find it hard to explain his complete one-eighty when it comes to dealing with the undercity. Once, he was determined to give them hell, back when he was just a rookie, always babbling on about how he would handle the "Zaunite problem", and offering solutions (if you can call them that) that would have met quite the success among the most monstrous tyrants.

When his impromptu promotion was announced, you had expected him to take full advantage of his new position and act on his threats. In fact, you had expected something very much like the events unfolding before you right now: blockades, raids, random inspections, an obnoxious display of strength—the whole circus. But instead, most of the troops had retreated completely from Zaun, leaving the undercity in a situation reminiscent of when Vander was in charge. The streets had been left completely unmonitored, allowing numerous gangs to rise and breed terror in the underground. Any sense of community ceased to exist in the blink of an eye, quickly replaced with defiance, greed and violence. Funny thing, that it took one man, one figure to hold a whole city together. Take him out of the equation, and an entire city is lost. And then came Shimmer, the final step that made all hell break loose.

You had often wondered whether a complete occupation would have made a difference. In a way, you had your answer now. It wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. The economy down there was frozen, leaving the poorest Zaunites in even worse conditions than before, if that was possible. Controlled chaos, that’s all this is. And the Council is probably looking at the current state of things and congratulating themselves on their good work. It has become routine lately, but once more you wonder what it is you’re doing here exactly.

In the cacophony you hear your name being called from the crowd and recognise a familiar face. Without a second thought, you strut towards the noisy crowd.

"I wouldn’t get too close if I were you." Warren says from behind you, eyeing the mob suspiciously. You offer him a snarky grin.

"What’s the matter, Warren, afraid of a couple sticks and stones?" You relish in the laughter that emanates from the group of enforcers surrounding him before Warren silences them with a death glare, his face red with both anger and embarrassment. When he turns back, probably to reprimand you, you’re already on the other side of the bridge.

You walk past the last line of enforcers, the big ones, hidden behind their goggles and masks. Not necessarily the best intermediary for parlay or negotiations. You come face to face with an elder man, a fisherman’s hat screwed low on his head, just above his tired blue eyes. He hunches over the barricade towards you.

"How long is this gonna last? They just suspended all exportation of goods. We’re suffocating down here." He shouts, hands gesticulating in the air, but you can barely hear him over the racket.

"I know that, but my hands are tied here, Lou." You say apologetically.

The economies of the upper and undercity are very much interdependent, even if that is mostly true one way more than the other, of course. Numerous Zaunites work on the other side of the stream, some fortunate and gifted kids have the opportunity to study in the University district. And while it is true that Piltovians prefer to rely on their own supplies and food, they import daily from the undercity, whether it be fish, brews, or local foodstuffs.

Contrary to popular belief, it is not rare for topsiders to stoop to undercity level, although it is usually for more illicit activities. Shimmer consumption, human trafficking, money laundering, you name it. Needless to say that the blockade doesn’t impact topside nearly as much as it does Zaun. It makes no difference to Piltovians if it lasts for weeks, months, or possibly even years. But the undercity’s days would soon become numbered if the situation doesn’t evolve.

A huge detonation is heard on the far side of the bridge and leaves your ears whistling for a few seconds. When you come to, there is a thick cloud of smoke rising from the same spot, but you can still make out the enforcers’ silhouettes as they charge into the protesters. Idiots. You barely have the time to turn back to Lou when another loud boom erupts. Then another. It’s really on now. You grab at the old man’s shoulder, a grave look on your face.

"Go home, Lou. Now!" He doesn’t need to be told twice, still, you follow him with your eyes until he disappears from view. You realise only too late the tear gas canisters that have been thrown all around you. You reach for your mask but the gas is already stinging your nose and assaulting your senses, it feels like your entire face is burning. Tears start to fall down your cheeks as you struggle to pull out your goggles. The gas has settled in your eyes now, and the eyewear obviously won’t change that, but you can’t think clearly at the moment and put them on regardless as you start to pull back to your squad. In the distance, you can hear Warren shouting hysterically, asking for more gas, more pressure on the line, always more. He calls to you once you are back in the safe perimeter.

"Sticks and stones, huh?" He taunts you, and you can clearly imagine his stupid face mocking you behind the mask.

"All of this for a bit of smoke?!" You refrain from calling him a dumbass in front of everyone else, although just barely, but you don’t even try to hide the anger and exasperation in your voice. He can launch disciplinary actions if he likes, this whole operation is already a complete disaster, and he will suffer the consequences too. You throw a quick look at the mess happening all around you. Utter panic among the protesters, untrained enforcers, and an incompetent chief. And people will wonder what could possibly have gone wrong. You sigh. On second thought, let Warren drag you in front of the Council if he wishes, you will have a lot of things to say.

You blink the last of the gas from your eyes and gather your thoughts. So the protests have gone up a notch after all, that much is true. But you remain convinced that the blockade is bad news for everyone. You grab the megaphone and clear your irritated throat as best as you can while your colleagues prepare to launch another charge. This will not be a quiet night after all.

Two hours, that’s all the time you get before you are unexpectedly called back for duty. You gulp down a can of hot soup, hop into a fresh blue uniform, and you’re out the door. For the first time, you are stationed on the main bridge, where you’ve heard things tend to be more heated. It is a last minute change, and very little information is given to you about your purpose here tonight, but it must be important if the Sheriff’s presence is any indication. Typically, back-up is hardly ever needed at night fall, most of the protesters leave at around 7 p.m. and come back at midday. So it is without surprise that you find the bridge perfectly calm and silent, with a large group of enforcers standing by. They seem to be waiting for something, or someone. You rapidly go over some procedures with your squad and dispatch them at key locations around the area before finding Marcus.

"So, what’s this all about, Sheriff?" You truly loathe to call him that, but the man likes having his ego stroked every now and then. Might as well play the good cop card in order to squeeze what you can out of him. You’re met with a suspicious and frankly condescending look. Whatever information it is you’re asking for, it would seem it is above your pay grade.

"We’re meeting someone. Your team is here to make sure it all goes smoothly."

Not much to go with, but the gears are already spinning in your head. Could it be that the person responsible for the attacks and the break-in in Piltover had requested a face to face in order to calm things down; seeing as the situation had escalated today. A request for parlay, perhaps, or a negotiation. You lower your tone as your address Marcus again.

"This whole thing," you gesture at the barricades on the bridge, "it’s about Hextech, isn’t it.?" His eyes grow wide, and the way he freezes all but confirms your suspicions. For all his ability to play the Council like a fiddle, the man had always had always been terrible at concealing his emotions.

"How’d you figure that out?" He asks seriously. You snort.

"A raid in the Council’s stronghold? Let’s just say I seriously doubt that whoever broke in came for Heimerdinger’s book collection." You say sarcastically.

Suddenly, the spotlights come to life, and a masked enforcer joins the two of you.

"They’re here, sir." Marcus nods and turns to you.

"Get behind the second line, and stay there unless ordered otherwise." You are about to protest but he is already moving forward with a small squad. The audacity, to call you here during your off-hours only to have you hang back and away from the main event. Regardless, you start to back up slowly, keeping attentive eyes fixed before you. In the distance, two figures emerge from the evening mist, progressing towards the roadblock. The enforcers take aim and start walking too, meeting them in the middle with Marcus flanking them. His hands are clasped behind his back, and he seems awfully relaxed despite the nagging tension in the air.

You end up much further away than you would like, but orders are orders. You squint painfully in order to catch whatever you can from the exchange. The two silhouettes are clearer now, thanks to the powerful lights; a young boy and a woman, unarmed and without backup, at least none that you can see from your position. Your eyes focus on the boy, on his outfit more specifically, and it takes you about a second to connect the dots. The mask dangling from his hip, the bandana tied around his neck, the big flying board strapped to his back. A Firelight. And not just any member of the controversial gang, this one is none other than the leader, Ekko. And next to him is— no, that makes no sense—Kiramman? You blink a few times. Surely your sleep-depraved mind is playing tricks on you. But it is her, Caitlyn Kiramman, daughter of senior councillor Cassandra Kiramman, and a very promising enforcer who suddenly went rogue not even a week ago, or so the Sheriff insisted.

An enforcer and a Firelight, quite the odd pairing indeed, especially since the latter have recently been designated as the prime suspects of the recent attacks that shook Piltover at the core. Even though as far as you are concerned, the accusation makes no sense. You have yet to see the so-called irrefutable evidence that has been found against them, evidence which has never been officially presented, but led to the blockade of the entire city regardless.

It had always been your belief that the Enforcement body put too much effort in fighting the Firelights. The only trouble they cause is against the Eye of Zaun’s production of Shimmer, which topside should be grateful for; if anything, the Firelights are doing most of the work for them. True, they had attacked a shipment over the city not that long ago, but it was clear that Piltover was not their target. It is something you have been thinking about for a while now, this obsession with the Firelights, when crime and Shimmer are the true plagues and spreading like never before.

From the distance you see Marcus ordering his men to stand back as he moves forward to meet with Kiramman and Ekko. No matter how many times you turn the problem over in your head, you can’t make head or tail out of this alliance. Although you have a feeling this little night encounter will clarify a few points. The young boy pulls some sort of protective cylinder from behind him, although he seems reluctant to show what hides inside. He opens it eventually, leading Marcus to inch closer in order to inspect the goods. There’s a pause, the party gauges each other out in apparent uncomfortable silence. Whatever the Firelight boy revealed has definitely caught the Sheriff’s interest, although not enough to conclude a bargain it would seem. Marcus just stands there motionless, as if weighing his options. Kiramman is talking to him now, you can only assume she is pushing for some sort of deal, an exchange perhaps, intel for intel. Money? Surely Marcus wouldn’t… You suddenly stop all speculation and watch in complete shock as he pulls out his pistol and fires a single shot, square in the boy’s stomach. The latter collapses, forcefully projected backwards with the power of the point blank shot.

Silence reigns on the bridge, save for a few crows cawing and flying away, the rest suspended in time, waiting. What the hell.

Marcus is now aiming at a discomfited Caitlyn, a rare sight, and his men have started to move forward, getting in formation around the woman. They exchange words, but Marcus does most of the talking as Caitlyn looks too petrified to speak. Orders be damned, you leave the line of enforcers who are currently staring incredulously at each other, as shocked as you are. There’s a figure running towards the meeting point, it appears to be a woman, but you can barely make her out through the fog. What you can clearly see, however, is the swarm of small green lights flying at a rapid pace alongside her. Firelights. Hundreds of them, merging to the same location as if they had been summoned there. Then, the cloud of insects lingers above Marcus, Caitlyn and the group of enforcers before descending upon them. A small number reach past the center of the bridge, to you, and you reflexively bat them away. You’ve never liked insects, not from this close anyway, and certainly not in great numbers. Some enforcers hold out their gloved hands to allow the firelights to land, seemingly amused by the situation. Admittedly, it’s quite a pleasant distraction from what usually happens up there— or doesn’t happen.

A tiny clicking sound emanates from all the bugs at once, like a detonation, and next thing you know, you are violently projected against the bridge’s bannister.

For the next minute or two, the only sound you hear is a numbing and constant whistling in your eardrum. You feel a hot liquid running slowly down the side of your temple, and your head is pounding like a jackhammer. Around you, bodies of enforcers lie limp on the ground in puddles of thick blood. You have seen your share of gruesome and violence, but can’t help the nausea that overtakes you as you scrawl through a sea of freshly detached limbs, the smell of copper filling your lungs. You reach an enforcer, one of the few still conscious. He is moaning in pain, mumbling incoherently as he holds up his arms, both severed at the wrist and forearm. Moans turn to screams as the realisation sinks in, you wonder if he knows his right leg is missing too.

As your hearing gradually comes back, you realise there is something going on at the centre of the bridge, where the explosions did the most damage. Gathering your strength and balance, you rise to your feet and progress towards it. More fighting it would seem. A shot rings in the air and lodges itself in a stone pillar just a couple feet away from you. You march on, unphased, a trembling hand hovering above your holster. You recognise the Firelight leader, who seems to have been untouched by the explosions, and facing him… Those long blue braids, that slender figure. Jinx. And the bombs all make sense now. There’s only one person in this city who would be capable of manufacturing such a weapon, and nobody makes anything go boom like Jinx does, all Enforcers learn that the hard way.

The two teens throw themselves at each other with a speed that makes the fight difficult to follow. Ekko quickly takes the upper hand, pinning the girl down with all his might. One, two, three hard punches square in the face, most people would have been knocked out cold by now, but Jinx struggles as best she can, until her body has nothing left to give. Ekko hovers over her, fist in the air, ready to strike one final blow to her blood-smeared face. But his hand hangs in the air, suspended in time, petrified.

Your heart sinks at the disturbing spectacle unfolding before you. What leads two children to fight to the death and show such a level of animosity? You don’t have time to answer that question as another large detonation erupts at the exact place where Ekko and Jinx were fighting.

The boy is the first to emerge, and it appears that the weapon got him good this time. He limps towards you and collapses in your arms. But the second he acknowledges your uniform, he starts struggling weakly against you, moaning in pain against your shoulder. The cries, however, have nothing to do with the physical pain. The stir from utter distress and despair. You don’t insist, and let him go gently, supporting him all the way.

"You should go." You say as you hear the cavalry starting to make progress from the other side of the bridge. Took them long enough. Ekko, although his head is still pounding, manages a frown.

"Why?"

"Your work is far from done, kid. Now get going." Your tone is firm enough to get the message across, but warm enough to convey that you care at least a little bit, and Ekko simply nods, peers at you one last time in mild confusion, before limping away through the fog.

A couple feet away, Jinx lies unmoving on the ground, and you pray that she isn’t dead as you approach and crouch beside her. Who knows what King of the underground would do if his protégé was to be taken away from him. The question is what would be obliterated first, Zaun or Piltover. Either way, there would be only ashes left on both sides. You let a sigh of relief escape as you feel a light pulse against the girl’s wrist. However, she needs medical attention, sooner rather than later. Her injuries look severe even to your untrained eyes and she has lost a lot of blood. As you let her arm down, her fingers relax, and a glowing round object rolls from her grasp. You do a double-take as you gape at it. It can’t be. The gemstone. The source of so many turmoils this past month just inches away from you, so shiny and out of place among the debris, as if daring you to take it.

"Are you alright? Where’s the Sheriff?" You were so taken by the object that you completely missed the hurried footsteps behind you. As quickly and discreetly as possible, you shove the gemstone inside a compartment of your utility belt and turn to face the small group of enforcers gathered at the scene, Warren among them. A sigh of relief escapes you as there’s no trace of the Firelight leader. He had slipped away just in time.

"He did not make it." You say, rising to your feet. The men in uniform exchange incredulous looks. "Help me with the body." They must have missed the urgency in your tone because they remain unmoving, their eyes still taking in the bloodbath. "Come on, Teebo, put those big arms of yours to use."

"She’s right, boys," Warren jumps in, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We’ve been after her for weeks, and now we finally got somethin’ to show for. The Council will be pleased." He stands proudly, hands on his hips as two enforcers work to lift Jinx’s inert body of the ground. "Let’s see how the son of a bitch can manage without his prized pupil—" the sentence dies in his throat and he freezes, shoulders stiffening. He might as well have seen a ghost. "Speaking of the devil."

You've never actually met the Eye of Zaun. You've seen the murals of course, heard the stories, and encountered his goons more times than you can count. But most of all, you've witnessed the damage and destruction he’s caused in the undercity over the past few years— shimmer, gang violence, oppression of the chembarons, child labour. Now, he may not be directly responsible for that last one, but the man has hardly done anything to stop it. It's rampant. Spreading like a disease with no cure in sight. You are all too familiar with it.

As you stand a couple paces away from Silco himself, you finally understand the fear and dread he inspires in both zaunites and pilties alike. His entrance feels almost theatrical and dramatic in the mist. It is just him and two large henchmen…against dozens of armed enforcers. There's no chance, no world in which a fight would go his way. And yet, there isn’t a trace of doubt in his one good eye. He's ready to pounce, to fight to the death like a raging animal to retrieve the girl with blue hair. No one has ever looked at you this way before—with such pure, unfiltered hatred. And you’ve just met the guy.

You take one tentative step forward, but that’s as far as you. Silco’s gaze freezes you in place, and whatever you were about to say gets stuck in your throat.

"Let’s grab him too" Warren urges right from behind you, restless.

"Those aren’t our orders," you say absently, your attention fixed on the one-eyed man.

"Are you kidding me? We could hit two big fucking birds with one stone. Right here! This could be huge for us."

"Don’t push your luck, Warren. We’ve got the girl. That’s the best bargaining chip we could hope for." That seems to get the point across, and Warren backs down.

"Get her back to the truck. This is a good day, gentlemen, a very good day!" He triumphs as he retreats with the rest of the squad.

Silco takes a step forward, fists clenched at his side. One of his men grips Jinx’s makeshift mini-gun, finger on the trigger, odds be damned. You advance as well, hanging your rifle on your shoulder, hoping so erase any sign of hostility. If a gunfight was to break out now, Zaun would have to find itself a new leader, and the blue-haired girl would no doubt be caught in the crossfire. Silco, despite his anger and desire to kill everyone in sight to get to Jinx, seems to understand that. His shoulders relax, slowly lowering, and he motions for his men to step back. He remains firmly planted there, challenging you with a look—silent, but deadly. Your heart pounds so hard in your chest that you can hear it in your head. As you watch Silco disappear into the fog, just as he had emerged, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve just signed your own death warrant.

Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed this chapter <3

Chapter 1 ⎜ Chapter 2 ⎜ Chapter 3 ⎜ Chapter 4 ⎜ Chapter 5

#silco #silco x reader #arcane #dusty writes

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