#technically speaking it would still be better than what we have now

[redfoxwritesstuff]

HI

umm smut request incoming…

Vox x alastor’s sister! Reader

Vox railing her and sending a video of something to Alastor (just like maybe a sound bite of her moans or sum) to piss him off… or…

Fucking on a live broadcast because he’s Vox and he if he thinks he can he will (I think he would censor most of it on live tv for the sake of he still technically wants to be the only who gets to see reader naked)

Either way the goal is to absolutely ruin Alastor’s sister to piss Alastor off

No rush…

I live for your writing

I love the way you write Vox…

-🐝anon

Hello, dearheart bumblebee-

Ask and you shall receive, I dearly hope you like it.

Vox x Alastor!Sister!Reader Rating: Adults only Content warnings: Potential age dynamics and power imbalance, dubious content, broadcast of sexual time without reader's consent, smut, putting way too much faith in a glass desk ~~~~~<3

The polished perfection of the tech district gleamed and sparkled around you as your simple low heels clicked against the clean pavement. Everything about the district was maintained perfectly, making it easy to forget you were in Hell as long as you didn’t look at the residents too long. 

You had been young when you died and when your elder brother joined you in Hell not too many years later, he had resumed his task of protecting you. It had been suffocating, as much so in death as it had been in life. 

Tonight, you were determined to break free from that suffocation. If you were lucky you’d pull it off without him noticing you’d strayed away from his approved districts while he was busy with his little hotel project. It had drawn his attention away from you for a while now and while you had always been an obedient young woman, you craved more. 

Music pounded the air as you approached a long line for a club. You’d never been in a proper club. At best, you were allowed to attend lounges and bars similar to what had been popular in the time of your life but after being dead for far longer than you had lived, you wanted to live just a little. 

What harm could it do? It’s not like Alastor would find out, he almost never came by the house lately anyway. 

Standing in the line was boring. It felt like it was never moving. You were convinced it would be morning before you got inside the stupid club. With your luck, come the brighter light of morning, while you still stood in this cursed line, Alastor would return home for the first time in almost a week to find you missing. 

You contemplated leaving as your tall ears flattened against your head. All you wanted was one night to act like a normal 22 (plus a few decades after death) year old living in the modern world and not the little early 1900s relic you spent most of your life being. 

Excitement erupted as a fancy black car pulled up just ahead of you in the line. The driver got out, wearing a dark blue pressed suit and held open the back door of the car. 

A man, tall with broad shoulders stepped out of the club as people excitedly tried to get his attention. His head was a flat screen, digitized face smiling wide as he seemed to soak up the attention. 

You leaned out of the line as you tried to get a better view of the man everyone was so excited to see. Whoever he was, he was attractive in a way you couldn’t really explain. His head was weird but the smile was charming and confident in a way that drew you in. 

His eyes scanned the crowd as he walked down the line, speaking to people here or there. Women and men alike swooned for the chance to take a picture with him. He was, without a doubt, a big deal. 

Did he know your brother? Would this man recognize your relation if he saw you? You shared many features with your brother, though you lacked the ever present smile and red hair. You had tried to obscure the relationship, donning black and browns rather than the red that dominated your wardrobe. 

“What do we have here?” 

Your ears flicked up and forward as you realized how close the man had gotten while you were lost in your thoughts. A started squeak slipped out of your mouth as you flinched back from his screen. 

“Aren’t you just the cutest thing,” He said as if it was the highest compliment, “what brings you out here?” 

“I wanted to go out?” You weren’t sure what to say, not knowing what he knew or who he was. 

“How’s that going for you?” He made a show of looking up the long line still to the door. “Been here long?” 

“A while,” You admitted, “I may just end up leaving, it’s getting late.”

“Splendid!” He clapped his hands together as he lifted the rope between him and the line you stood in. “What would you say if I told you I could take you somewhere better to get a few drinks and music?” 

“Like where?” You asked as you ducked under the rope before hesitating in front of him.

“Vee Tower.” He cocked his thumb to the tower that dominated the district. “We’ve got a bar in there.” 

“I- I don’t know who you are. Maybe I should pass,” 

“You really aren’t from around here, are you?” The man laughed, holding his hand out for you in invitation. “The name is Vox.” 

“You’re an overlord.” You stepped away, regretting leaving the safety of Alastor’s territories. You’d heard his name in passing as your brother talked on about the overlord meetings but knew little else about the man. 

“Yep,” He popped the p as he rose his digital eyebrow. “And you look a lot like another overlord. Enough that I wouldn’t feel right leaving you on the streets. Couldn’t let anything bad happen to someone who may be important to my peer, now can I?” 

“Your a friend of-”

“I am indeed!” Vox took your hand in his as soon as you made the slightest motion to take his hand. “You want to have a good time out in the tech district, don’t you?” 

He lead you toward the waiting car, shooing away the driver and pushing the back passenger door closed with his hip. He opened the front passenger door and all but shoved you in the car. 

Getting into the driver’s seat, he had the car in motion before you could even question how the driver was going to get back. 

“So, doll- what are you looking to get out of your trip to the modern age?” He turned his head, allowing his eyes to flick between you and the road. 

“I just wanted to have a good time. Get out from under my brother’s thumb for a bit,” You twisted the skirt of your dress in your hands. If Vox was a friend of Alastor’s you could surely trust him, though you couldn’t imagine him being friends with a tech overlord. 

“Ol Al smothering you?” Vox laughed as if he was in on some joke with you. He was a charming man and you found yourself smiling with him, relaxing into the seat as he made light hearted conversation. 

Before you knew it, you had a drink in your hand in Vox’s personal penthouse as he showed off tech to you, leaning over your shoulder as he crowded your space. You found yourself drawn to the warmth of him. 

When you leaned your back into his chest, you didn’t know but when you looked back on this night, you would identify that as the trigger for everything that would come next. 

His body was firm against your back and his breath, somehow coming from his screen ruffled your hair over your shoulder. His hand fell to your waist with a squeeze. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the prototype device in his hand to flop on a couch in his home office. 

Clawed hand pulled your head, forcing you to look over your shoulder as his bright screen burned into your eyes. You closed your eyes to protect them only to feel his screen against your face. It quickly shifted, smooth surface giving way to lips as he kissed you.

It was strange and electrifying. You couldn’t remember the last time anyone had kissed you. Being who you were and your brother’s reputation, few would even consider braving the Radio Demon’s wrath. 

You hadn’t realized how starved for romantic attention you were until his lips were on you. His mouth tasted like the air smelled ahead of a lighting storm, though you never would have thought of that as a taste before. 

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest as your heart thundered in your chest. Strong hands dug into your waist as he walked you back until you bumped into his desk. 

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, setting you on the edge of the smooth glass surface, trusting it to hold your weight. His tongue wormed into your mouth and you moaned at the feel of him. Your mind swam as alcohol and endorphins mixed, giving you a natural high that had you clinging to his chest. 

Vox tore his hands from your waist, grabbing your knees and forcing them further apart so that he could slot his body tight between your thighs. Blush burned your skin as you felt his hands run up your legs, pushing your skirt higher as he made his way back to your hips.

Could he see your blush in the dim light?

He pulled you to him by your hips, slotting his crotch tightly against yours as his tongue licked down your neck, leaving a trail of light static shocks in the process that had you gasping for air. 

You could feel his hardness against you, throbbing strong enough that you could feel it through his pants and your soaked panties. 

“Vox,” You needed him, gasping his name as he ground his hips into you. 

“Do you want me?” Vox asked, smirk plastered on his face. “Say you want me.” 

“I want you,” You answered as Vox sank to his knees. 

“Can I taste you?” His hands ran up and down your legs as he knelt in front of you. Static shocks ran over your skin, leaving goosebumps under his hands. 

“I’ve never-” It wasn’t really done in your limited experience in life and in death, you didn’t have much time to find your feet, all things considered, to feel safe enough to explore before your brother’s overbearing presence suffocated any chance you had to explore. 

“The first to do this for you?” He asked, eyes wide and earnest, not matching the sly smirk on his face in the slightest. His eyes, you realized, often gave him away. “Let me, please?” 

“Okay.”

Your breath caught and stuttered in your lungs as he slipped his claws under your panties and ripped them from you, leaving them in tatters as they fell to the ground. Strong hands ran up and down your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart with each pass.

“Lean back,” He demanded, “Let me see you.”

You did as he asked, leaning back and supporting your weight on the palms of your hands. It took a few tries to find somewhere to put your hands that didn’t have papers or bits of tech. 

“Oh,” You gasped as a finger ran up your slit, touch so soft that it only caressed your part without delving inside your folds at all.

“So wet for me already.” 

You were far from prepared for the feeling of Vox’s mouth on you. Strong hands pulled your thighs apart, spreading your folds as he ran his long electric tongue up your slit. Static danced on your nerves as his long tongue slipped over your clit only to pull back and circle it. 

He pulled the nub into his mouth. Your brain struggled comprehend how any of this was possible when he had a flat screen for a face but as his long finger slipped into your entrance, you didn’t care. 

You moaned as he sucked harshly on your clit, running his tongue over the captured bundle of nerves as he pumped the single finger inside you until you were panting. A coil felt ready to break inside you and just when it felt like it would be too much, he pulled away.

“Why did you stop?” You asked as your breathing calmed.

Instead of answering, he leaned in and ran his tongue over your folds repeatedly. As soon as her breath was coming fast again, he entered her once again. Instead of his finger however, it was his long electrified tongue that wiggled itself into her. He slurped her slick from the source as he probed, static sending stimulation over everything he touched until she clenched around him. 

He moaned as she spasmed around his tongue, clenching the soft electric muscle. Slick poured into his eager mouth as he palmed himself through his pants to the music of your gasps. 

“Did you like that?” Vox asked as he climbed to his feet. 

“Yeah,” your arms felt weak as you struggled to support your upper body.

“Tell me how much,” Vox demanded as he worked his belt open.

“It felt so good,” You said, mind spinning as you watched him pull his belt from his pants, clattering to the ground as you babbled praise. “Your mouth felt so good on me. Your tongue,” 

Vox freed himself from his pants and you were left mesmerized by his cock. Dark skin covered his considerable size as glowing veins traced their way around his length. 

“You think that was good, just wait.”

He ran the head of his cock up and down your slit, gathering ample wetness as he leaned over you, working open the buttons on your blouse. You had no bra on under, leaving you fully exposed as he pulled your shirt open. 

“Who would have thought,” Vox loomed over you, hungry eyes roaming over your chest, taking in the swell of your breasts and how they moved with each gasping breath you took. “That that old timey prick had such a darling sister hidden away.” 

Fear flared in your mind at the way Vox spoke of your brother, not using the tone or words you’d have expected from someone who was a friend but before you could think too much on it, he was sliding inside. 

You were tight and tense as his cock breached your entrance but your copious slick ensured that your tense body did nothing to stop him. Inching in, he pushed your fluttering walls aside slowly as he filled you. When he stilled, you could feel the firm bones of his hips against you while the head of his cock kissed your cervix. 

“Fuck, doll.” He leaned over you, shoving the items on his desk to the floor without a care as be braced himself against the desk, ensuring you were boxed in, speared and with no where to go. “You’re so tight. Squeezing me like it’ll save you. His best kept secret, huh?”

You tried to get your feet in front of him, tried to find purchase to push him back so you could breath but his chest was solid and firm under your hand. It was like pushing against a wall. Your feet found no way to catch any part of him to push against, your attempts only causing you to wiggle and nudge the cock buried deep inside you. 

“Don’t worry, Doll- I’m not going to hurt you.” Vox promised, dark smile on his digital face. “I’m going to show you what you’re missing out on. Remember how good you said I made you feel? I’m going to make you feel so much better.” 

You clenched your jaw as he pulled back, heavy length pulling from your cunt in a wet drag until his tip, glowing slightly with the flush of his strange blood as it nestled just inside you.

“You look so good like this, spread out on my desk, little doe tail mashed against the glass and my cock spreading you.”

His hips snapped forward and you couldn’t contain the moan as the force jostled your body on the desk. Pulling back, he admired the way your ears sat atop your head, cocked to the side and limp, face slack and eyes drooping as you looked up at him. 

If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would have you. If he couldn’t have Alastor, he would ruin you. If Alastor wouldn’t want him, he would ensure you craved him. 

Another snap of his hips had a deeper moan pour from your pretty parted lips. This was wrong, you knew that now. He wasn’t a friend. You should have listened to your brother. You should have never left the safety of his territory. 

But it was hard to keep telling yourself that as Vox’s cock kissed your cervix with every thrust forward. The words that fell from his lips, hot promises and dark praises had you wanting more. 

Your slick poured out of you with every pull back of Vox’s heavy cock, you could feel more of your slick smear around your folds and hips, dripping down you and wetting the fur of your tail. 

You arched on the glass desk as Vox leaned forward, static tongue reaching out to twist and slither over your nipple, sending shocks through your blood and down your core. 

“Fuck,” you gasped, reaching out for his arms to somehow ground yourself as his lips enveloped your nipple, teeth grazing over the sensitive pebble. 

“Who’s making you feel good?” Vox asked as he pulled away, “Who’s cock are you taking so well?”

“Vox,” you gripped his arm in one hand, reaching out and running your palm over his clothed chest as he moved above you, “Vox, please?”

“What do you need, Doll?”

Your body was rocking with each hard thrust, breasts bouncing with each jostle. He grabbed your hips as he straightened, pulling you harshly to hin with each thrust, making your breathy moans up in pitch as he hit something deep inside of you just right. 

“Please,” You repeated, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

“What do you like?” He questioned, leaning over you for a moment to kiss you hotly, tongue sweeping into your mouth as things shifted and moved on his desk. Electricity ran over your skin as his power flared but you couldn’t make yourself care. “Want to hear your voice.” 

“Your cock,” You gasped as he pulled back, a strand of saliva stretching between your lip and where his screen gave way to his lips. You gasped as he shifted you, angling your hips so that his cock pressed tighter against the soft front of your walls. “Feels so good.” 

He supported your hips with a hand under you, fingers wrapped around the little tail, underside sticky with spilled slick. It wasn’t comfortable but you were too distracted by the way he gripped your tail to care about the pressure. His other hand pressed on your lower belly, making the head of his cock hit the spongy bundle of nerves harder with each violent trust. 

“Fuck, so good.” he said, leaning forward again and supporting his weight on palm placed by your arm as you tightened around him. “Fuck babydoll, so tight. Going to ruin you. Going to mark you inside and out.”

“Please,” You whined, hooking your legs around his back as his pubic bone crashed and rubbed against your clit with every thrust, “So close. Don’t stop. Please,” 

“Who’s cock are you going to cum on?” His arm gave out, causing him to crash down on a elbow. A shimmering crack spidered out from where his elbow crashed into the glass surface. “Who’s cum are you going to take?”

“Vox,” You clenched around him, walls fluttering as you held onto him with arms and legs and core, wanting to pull him closer still, “Vox, I’m going to-” 

“Ffffuuck,” He moaned deeply as his cock, nestled right against your cervix twitched. His hips rocked as he spilled his load deep inside your twitching walls. Your hips rocked as you humped into him, urging his cock to twitch and spurt as your climax faded, leaving you twitching, gasping, full and satisfied. 

“You did so good for me,” Vox said as he caressed your face with a clawed hand. “Put on a hell of a show.” 

“What?” The word was slurred as you leaned into his touch, spent and body aching from the force of your orgasms. 

“Did you have a good night out?” Vox asked instead of answering your question. You groaned as his softening cock twitched, still slotted deep inside you. 

“So good,” you praised, wrapping your fingers around his forearm as you basked in the afterglow. “Felt so good. Worth sneaking out.” 

“Good,” Vox said, withdrawing from you and tugging your skirt down and packing his cock back into his pants. There was no avoiding the way your slick had marked up the front of his pants but he would deal with that later. 

“Vox, I-” You sat up, buttoning your top as you watched the attractive man straighten himself up. 

“A car is waiting for you. Your brother is looking for you. Better scurry back to the middle ages, Doll.” Vox glanced down at his phone before looking at your wide brown eyes. So innocent and soft where your brother was dark and sharp. 

“Will I see you again?” You asked, hopeful. 

“Maybe,” Vox teased, running his clawed hand over your tall ears that looked so much like his, “If your brother ever lets you out of his sight again.”

You didn’t understand what he meant by that as he ushered you out of his home. He hadn’t even given you a chance to clean up. With each step you took, you could feel your slick between your legs and the way his seed seeped from your stretched core. 

On the other side of the pentagram, Alastor thrashed through his broadcasting tower. Angel’s phone was shattered against the wall, screen dark. It didn’t matter, every time he closed his eyes he could still see it. 

The way your face looked, his sweet sister contorted in pleasure granted by that disgusting, flat faced, trend chasing buffoon. Alastor had no doubt that Vox had used you to get to him.

Vox didn’t care for you, not that Alastor wanted him to. What he dreaded though was your realization that your lover’s tryst was broadcast throughout Hell. All of Hell could have watched Vox claim the hardly seen sister of the Radio Demon. All of Hell could have heard the Tech overlord’s name fall from the one person closest to Alastor.

All of Hell saw Vox take what Alastor was responsible for protecting. 

“You’ll regret this, Old Pal.” Alastor promised as he sank into shadows to find out where you had been dropped off. 

[unpretty]

why does this wordpress theme for local governments require woocommerce. do they think we're going to be taking utility payments via woocommerce. what is the intended function here.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[al1fers-haven]

"Bring your kid to work day."

Alastor fluff - a continuation of 'Almost Instictual' and 'Instinct.'

"Alastor, love." The radio demon turned around, looking at your disheveled frame before eying the baby in your arms. A gentle smile overtook your features as you attempted to not just fall over and go to sleep right there. "Y/n. Dear, you're not supposed to be up and about yet! Go back and rest-" You shook your head, putting a finger up as you shushed him and continued to rock the two-month-old in your arms. Taking a deep breath before speaking once again.

" I need you to take Maria out today, or just away from me for a little bit- I need to sleep and my stomach has been hurting so much. Please-" Alastor watched as you walked up to him and gently gave him the sleeping girl. He stiffened at the contact. "Y/n- I have a meeting today-" You waved your hand, dismissing his statement and laying back down in bed. You looked horrible. Still recovering from the C-section they had put you through after you went into labor. "I need sleep, I need time away so I don't strangle her. Please just take her for the day, or get a babysitter- I don't care."

Alastor wasn't someone who had much shame or could be embarrassed easily. It wasn't a secret that he would do things without thinking, and this moment was an example of just how bad that was.

"Is thou your offspring, Alastor?" Zestial poked a little black claw into the baby's face, a small chuckle leaving his form as the baby grabbed onto it. A babble left Maria's mouth before Alastor realized that he was being spoken to. "Biologically? No....But I have relations with her mother. Who is recovering from getting surgery and was asked to have the little thing accompany me today while she sleeps." The green man nodded. "Thou was domesticated my eyes see." Alastor laughed a bit himself, gently pushing zestials finger away from the child face before exiting the elevator. Had he truly been that tamed by you?

"Alastor, zestial-" Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose, staring at the board at the end of the room with her back turned on them. Ready to yell at the two men before she turned around and just stood there. Staring at Alastor.

"Is that a fucking child?"

Alastor gently glared at the woman and covered Maria's ears. "Whoops." Rosie jumped up from her seat and ran towards the two. Smile as bright as ever as Alastor let her take the baby. "Oh, there's my goddaughter! Hi Maria! It's anti-Rosie!" Maria giggled a little bit and grabbed Rosie's hat. Alastor stretched a bit at the loss of weight in his arms. "Alastor where did you..get this child." Alastor deadpanned, gently taking Maria back from Rosie and ignoring the woman pleads to keep holding her. "She's mine, technically. Now- Maria here will be attending today's meeting." Rosie snickered, returning to her seat with Alastor. "Okay then..." The room shifted their gazes over to the doors, three voices laughing about how stupid the meetings were booming throughout the room now as the vees entered the little room.

"You five are late. I expected better than you. Including you, zestial." the old man just chuckled and nodded. The vees seated themselves without a care in the world.

Carmilla pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now, we are all here because-" Valentino raised his hand like a child, his eyes on Alastor who had a baby in his grasp. Carmilla groaned loudly. "What, Valentino?" "Why does Alastor have a child?" Vox glitched a bit, looking at the red demon who seemed completely unphased as the baby girl started to play with his ears. "Okay let's get the elephant out of the room already!" Carmilla stood up, pointing to Alastor and Maria. "The radio demon we all have known to be an asshole now has a baby. Alastor is now 'dating' a woman who has a child and she is not well so he brought her here. Any objections?" "Should we trust that fossil with a baby?" Velvette giggled a bit, raising her hand as well as rosie and alastor glared at her. "I ask you don't swear in her presence. Her mother would kill me" Alastor quickly added on. Vox gawking at the display. "So- you got someone to sleep with you?" Alastor shook his head no. "No! Of course not, i do not with for such....nasty activities. Just dating her mother. Isn't that right maria." "Carmilla, would you mind holding her?" She nodded as alastor handed the baby to her, a small sigh leaving his mouth as he fixed his suit. Looking over to see the baby being passed around. His static screeched to a halt. As soon as the baby got to vox, who was holding her normally. She started to cry. Everyone silent in the room as the baby was passed on to velvette. Who was surprisingly good with calming her down. As soon as she got to valentino tho he didn't know what to do, grimacing as he held the child up like simba. Alastor quickly took the baby and glared at valentino, holding her tight. "Now may we start the meeting? Thank you.”

[kcrossvine-art]

Hi fellow adventurers!! A few weeks ago i caught wind of "Delicious in Dungeon". I'm not really an anime person, but I am a TTRPG, CRPG, and cooking person- . And holy shit. It is so good i  convinced my partner to binge read the whole thing. I'm caught up on dungeon meshi, the anime, and just yesterday i also finished dungeon meshi, the manga.

Its rare to come across a serialized story that is so thematically cohesive and knows its characters so well. All of the bonus content like the artbooks and monster tidbits are just the icing on top.

So, inspired by Ryōko Kui's writing and illustration I'm going to attempt to create a recipe for every single Delicious in Dungeon recipe!-

Today that means Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot is on the menu!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is one of the pricier dishes until we get to the kelpies and dragons of the menu-

Rock lobster tail

Porcini mushrooms

Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus

Small potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water

OPTIONAL: your choice of dipping sauces

There was a crossover/promotional event in Shibuya which featured various realworld dishes from the series. They had one for Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom, but they used prawns.  while those cook better in a hotpot, they also didn't look enough like the scorpion for me, they also used udon noodles for the slime and a seaweed/kale(?) mixture for the algae. If you're looking for substitutes due to price or availability i would start with those ingredients.

AND, “what does a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKI hope Senshi would forgive me for technically cooking the lobster outside the pot, once he tastes it.

Okay im always partial to veggies but wowowowowowowoowowowow the snow fungus and the mushrooms tasted soooooooooooo good in the lobster stock

A nice delicate layering of different flavors

Try to get a bite with the lobster meat and shiitake together, dip in butter then chili- trust me

Its up to you what texture you prefer if you want to put the noodles in at the end or put them in halfway through the meal. Either way dont go for eating those first as theyre very filling

I think this would pair well with a citrus drink, something light and clarifying

This would also pair well with being extremely high and hungry (if you feel safe cooking while inebriated lol) very calorically dense

For the trial run I did one lobster tail in the pot with everything else, and one lobster tail off to the side to be picked apart. The former is more in spirit with a hotpot, but it got rubbery as the meal went on and lost its nice taste. The latter may be a bit more work but all you have to do still is boil it and set it aside. I found it held up much better. It was also easier to get inside the shell.

. If you have hardshell maine lobster available, i think it would be superior to rock lobster (keep in mind crustaceans will get rubbery if cooked too long in the pot) . Green onions and/or lotus root would make excellent additions

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From getting the ingredients out to sitting down and eating, id say it took maybe 30 minutes max? It'd vary on how fast you can prep vegetables and get the various implements heated.

Hotpots are not something i do very often as i'm usually just feeding myself. I think thats why a hotpot makes perfect sense to start the series off. If you want to set the tone of "take care of yourself, eat food with others, and use what you have" (generally speaking) there is nothing more simplistic, flexible, and defeats-the-purpose-if-you-eat-it-alone than a hotpot. Gather around and let your friends bring ingredients to the pot if you want to fill your heart up extra full <3

I'm doing something different here because unlike previous recipes where i used a bunch of different sources and made my own recipe out of hodge-podging it, or just used another persons recipe entirely if they did it really well, i made this more whole-cloth based off of what i had available, what I could discover through research, and my existing knowledge. Instead of the recipe being 50/50 original, this one is more 20/80. So. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys :D 

What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 Rock lobster tails

3 Porcini mushrooms

2 Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus (a good handful, should rehydrate in the hotpot)

2 Small waxy potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water/lobster stock

Method:

Lightly rinse all of your vegetables beforehand and let them dry.

Vertically slice the porcini mushrooms. Cut off and dice the stems of the shiitake mushrooms. You can slice the tops if youd like.

Peel and cube the potatoes, roughly an inch each.

For the lobster tails; Boil a pot of salted water. Keep the shell on. Weigh the largest tail and add 1 minute of cooking time for every ounce of weight.

When done, strain the lobster from the water. Pour the water into your hotpot as the base. Serve the lobster on the side so people can pick the meat out to dip into the hotpot.

Bring the hotpot to a simmer. Add the potato cubes, snow fungus, mushrooms, and noodles.

OPTIONAL: this wasnt in the show, but its fun having sauces on the side :) i had oyster sauce, dry seasoned chili dip, melted butter, and soy sauce available

[multifandomlover01]

Not Technically Mine…But Still Unequivocally Mine

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (not AFAB specific)

WC: ~2.9k

Warnings: reader is undercover bait, very scummy suspect, very uncomfy situation and dialogue, touching, Spencer is concerned for her safety, biological male reaction mention, strangulation mention but not depicted, the b word is used to describe the reader, he spits on her too

Summary: (based off a post by @hereforhalstead and fic semi-requested by @ribbongrll) Reader has to go undercover as bait to lure in a suspect, and Spencer is not happy about it. He’s very protective and almost caused the mission to not be completed

Note: I envisioned post prison Spencer for this so it’s like S13-15 (JJ and Luke are in here), also third person and idk what’s happening with the tenses. Also a bit repetitive? Bit annoying?

Spencer absolutely fucking hated it whenever he had to be in a club or a bar for a case. It didn’t matter how much time he had to spend in the building. He got anxious and overstimulated very quickly. The only thing that made it worse was when some guy flirted with his equally as anxious female coworker (who was also his best friend who he was also in love with). Every time a guy would flirt with her while she just stood there, uncomfortable and silent, his heart broke. He’d glare at the guy and if he still didn’t take that hint, say something. Luckily, this usually took care of any further interaction.

Apparently the only thing worse than some guy flirting with his best friend/crush was her being bait for a suspect. She was his exact type, physically speaking and personality wise. Spencer almost immediately objected when he saw the form fitting and revealing dress that JJ had helped her pick out. But he doubted he’d be able to convince Prentiss and Rossi to ditch the plan. It was the best one they had. At least Spencer got to go undercover with her as her date…although he didn’t know if this actually would make the situation better or worse.

He didn’t even notice that his hand was brushing against hers the whole ride. He also didn’t notice that he was sweating a little bit.

“You’d better not do that in the club…you’ll give us away.” She teases and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about until he is suddenly physically aware of the perspiration.

He chuckles. “I won’t. Don’t worry.” He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and dabs his face and neck.

They arrive at the club. He gets out of the vehicle and helps her out. He suppressed a groan when she tugs on her dress to futilely get it to cover more of her thighs. He gingerly grasps her hand and leads her inside.

“Remember…be your shy sweet self but not too reserved and reluctant because we need-”

“The suspect outside, yes, I know, Spence. We’ll be ok.” She chuckles as she looks at him.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.” He frowns.

“You think I want to get hurt.” She furrows her eyebrows.

“Of course not.” He shakes his head, smiling some. “But it’s my job to protect you and…I don’t wanna fail.”

“I have to let him get me outside, isolated and alone so that JJ and Luke can apprehend him. You can’t protect me once I’m on my own with him.” She states what he was trying not to think about. She was right, though, of course.

“Just…be careful, ok?” He squeezed her hand.

“I will, don’t worry.” She squeezed his back. “Hey, I’ve done better for longer on my field training that you have, remember?”

“I remember when you had to help me pass my test to still be qualified to carry a gun and be in the field.”

“And now you don’t even need my help. You’ve gotten better and I’m proud of you. There’s always room for improvement…even for me. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Spencer still wasn’t sure about this whole situation as they took a seat at the bar at the club. There was only one seat available. Spencer thought about letting her take it as the lady while he stood but then an idea he liked struck him. He sat down on the bar stool, took a hold of her waist and hoisted her up into his lap. He held her tightly to him as he had his arms wrapped around her waist.

“What’re you doing?” She asked, slightly confused by his behavior.

“I’m your date. I’m being…friendly.”

“That’s not why.” She huffs slightly.

“Alright…I’m protecting you, then.” His breath tickles her ear.

“Do I have to be in your lap?”

“I would say that…yes, you do.” He said rather definitively.

They ordered drinks (he made sure to order her a virgin cocktail so she had no actual alcohol in her system, not only was this regulation for an undercover agent, but he knew the last thing he wanted was for her cognition to not be at 100%). They sipped their drinks as she remained in his lap.

Spencer remained vigilant to his surroundings when she had to be more subtle about it to maintain her “oblivious” undercover role. He was grateful that it made sense for a girl’s date to want to ward off any potential girl stealers. He was not so grateful that the suspect did not care about that (even if the whole point of being bait and undercover as a couple was to lure him in to apprehend him).

It didn’t escape her notice that he’d tighten his grip around her whenever any guy got particularly physically close to her for whatever reason (even if it was as innocuous as standing beside her at the bar to order drinks) even if they didn’t even glance at her, let alone talk to her.

“You can relax some, you know. The suspect is going to be much bolder. You don’t have to spike your poor heart rate over every little thing.”

“I care about you. I won’t have you getting hurt.”

“We went over this. I’m perfectly capable of-”

“I know, I know you are, ok? It’s not…it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s-”

“Excuse me…” An overly charming and soft voice says, cutting Spencer off.

Their eyes immediately flit over to the man that had suddenly appeared. Spencer’s blood runs cold when he realizes that this is the man that matches the descriptions that the bartenders and patrons had given.

Spencer tenses, gripping her hips tightly as he holds her to him.

“I was just at that table over there and couldn’t help notice this…vision of loveliness right here.” He smiles as his hand rests on her knee. She cringes. Spencer’s blood boils.

“Don’t touch her.” He says in a dangerously low tone.

“Oh come on…I’m not gonna hurt the little lady. I’m merely…admiring her.” He steps ever so closer.

“Back off.” Spencer says, or rather…he grits it out. His grip on her hips tightens and she’s starting to wonder if they’ll bruise if he grips any tighter or if he does so for long.

“Oh come on…don’t be such a hard ass. What do you say, darling? How’s about…you and I…ditch this guy and I’ll show you a real good time.” Spencer wishes he could punch that stupid smirk off his face and break his hand as it slides further up her thigh. She’s squirming in his lap, pressing back into him (which doesn’t help another situation).

“You won’t. She’s clearly uncomfortable. You should take a hint and piss off.”

While she is in actuality very uncomfortable around this man, she knows she needs to get him outside.

“Well I…” She forces herself to scoot a bit off of Spencer’s lap and closer to the man. Spencer doesn’t loosen the grip on her hips and pulls her back against him.

“See? The lady here does seem interested.” His smirk hasn’t disappeared as his fingers are now at the hem of her dress.

Spencer has to fight between his instinct to get her as far away from this man as possible and his recognition of the mission. He just glares at the man. Reluctantly, he keeps his mouth shut.

“That’s it…listen to your girl here. Come on, honey. He seems like a real fun guy but…I promise to show you a night you’ll never forget. You’ll feel things you’ve never felt before.”

She scoots off Spencer’s lap a bit and he reluctantly loosens his grip. The man wastes no time sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She lets him lead her away. Spencer’s knuckles turn white against the bar counter as he sees the bastard caress her and then sees his hand move lower and squeeze her ass.

He just prays that she can keep herself safe with her training. She couldn’t wear a wire or anything. But he had one to inform JJ and Luke that they were on their way out to them. All he had to do was wait. He heard the confirmation that they’d made it outside and had been spotted by the agents placed there in the alley.

“Guys…tell me what’s going on.” Spencer murmurs into the mic.

“She’s fine. Just sit tight, Spence.” JJ tries to calm him down. It doesn’t work.

“Don’t tell me to just sit tight, JJ. I…I can’t just sit tight knowing she’s out there with that monster. You’ve got eyes on her. Please tell me she’s ok.” Spencer says pleadingly.

“She’s handling herself, man, ok? She’s capable.” Luke now tries to assuage Spencer’s fears. This also is not successful.

“That’s also not what I asked, Luke.”

Spencer hears Luke sigh. “He’s got her up against the alley wall, ok?”

“Well what’s he doing to her?”

“Spence-”

“What’s he doing?” Spencer insisted.

“Well he’s…fondling her…kissing her neck.”

“Jesus Christ…when are you guys gonna apprehend him? What if he hurts her?” Spencer is starting to get very concerned.

“We have to wait.”

“For what?! For him to strangle her?!”

“We need to wait until there is probable cause for an arrest. She’ll fend him off and he’ll push too far.”

“But how far? Does her dress have to be ripped? Does she have to be humiliated coming back in here?” Spencer was getting angry at his friends. They knew how much he cared about her. He didn’t often get like this.

“Just another minute or so, then we’ll go, ok?” Luke says, hoping again that this’ll calm him.

“Ok…only that…no longer. You can’t leave her with him for longer than that. Please…please protect her.” Spencer says softly.

“We will, Spence. We promise.”

“Thank you.” He sighs in relief.

It is indeed only another minute or two before go time, with JJ and Luke revealing themselves to the suspect. He is startled when two FBI agents with guns come out of the shadows. But before he can get angry and lash out at them, he turns that anger towards his potential victim.

“You…bitch!” He seethes, spitting in her face, causing her to gasp. This causes Luke to push him against the wall as he handcuffs him.

“Alright. That’s enough, buddy. We’re taking you in now.”

“You set me up? This was a set up?! I didn’t do anything! You pigs set me up!” He yells as Luke wrestled him over and into a squad car down at the end of the alley.

JJ comforts her briefly as she stands shaking slightly against the wall.

“Go back inside. Spence is quite anxious to see you.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, I bet.”

She wanders back inside the club, tugging her dress to get it back in place, wiping her smudged lipstick off, wiping the spit off as well.

Spencer is out of his seat like a rocket and bounding towards her the second he sees her enter the door she’d exited out of. He doesn’t say anything as he engulfs her in a tight embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re ok.” He whispered softly in her ear.

“I’m always ok.”

“You don’t have to be. It’s ok to not be ok.” He caressed her back.

“I know. But I’m ok.”

“What if…what if I’m not?” He holds her tightly to him. He buried his face in her neck.

“Why would you…not be ok? I’m…I’m fine.”

“You don’t understand, hon. This whole thing…has been near torturous for me. Watching that man…talk to you…flirt with you…touch you and knowing he was…” He’s shaking now and he doesn’t even realize it.

She caresses his back. “Hey…hey…it’s ok. I’m ok. It’s all over now.” She whispered softly.

“I just didn’t want you to get hurt. If that monster had hurt you…”

“Why don’t we get out of here, huh? I think we should go.”

“Fucking finally.” He groans as he wraps an arm around her waist and swiftly makes his way with her to the front exit of the club. He takes a nice deep breath once he’s exposed to the cool night air. He didn’t even realize how suffocating that environment was to him.

He helps her back into the vehicle as it’s brought around and still keeps her close to him as they head to the hotel to decompress for the night.

Once in the calm peaceful safety of the hotel room, he grabs his sleepwear from his bag and then gets hers for her as well. She had retreated to the bathroom to remove her makeup and take the dress off. Spencer enters the bathroom without knocking. He gets an eyeful of his best friend in her underwear and his face turns red.

“Oh um…I’ll just…leave these here. Sorry.” He puts her sleep wear on the counter and turns quickly to leave, shutting the door behind him.

He changes outside the bathroom in the room, still very embarrassed about his faux pas. He should’ve knocked. He just had so much on his mind at that moment that he’d completely forgotten to do it.

He occupied himself with a book as he sat up on the bed. His head lifts when he hears the bathroom door open. As beautiful as she’d looked in that dress and makeup, she looked infinitely more comfortable in her sleep wear and with no makeup. And because she seemed so comfortable and relaxed now, she somehow seemed even more radiant to him.

“Hey.” He says softly as he smiles at her. “Feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” She smiles back at him as she sits on her own bed.

He looks over at her as she gets her own book out to relax. She goes to put her earbuds in her ear and he stops her. He knows she’s going to listen to music.

“You don’t have to put those in. You can just…play it from the phone.”

She looks over at him. “Really? You’re sure? I dunno how you’re gonna feel about some of the music.”

“It’s fine. I’ll listen to whatever you wanna listen to.” He shrugged. He very much wanted to relax and listen to music together with her instead of it seeming like they were doing it separately.

“Ok. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.” She chuckles as she puts her earbuds away and turns the volume up on her phone to prepare to play her music.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“You say that now.” She smirks as she presses play.

Classical music starts to play.

“What do you mean you warned me? That’s just Mozart!” He exclaimed.

“For now.”

“Oh for now.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “What’s next…Wagner? Don’t get crazy now.”

“Oh you just wait, Reid…just you wait.”

“Don’t tell me you have Hans Zimmer on there. That’d be really crazy.” He joked.

“Something wrong with movie and tv soundtracks?”

“No, not at all! I love them too. I’m merely amused at what you consider crazy.”

His smile falls when metal music starts playing. She laughs at his confused expression.

“I told you I warned you!”

“Now I’m concerned about what you consider relaxing.” He raises his eyebrows.

“I can always put my earbuds in.” She offers, pointing to them.

“No…no. It’s fine. Then I’d just be concerned for your hearing.” He shakes his head.

“You’re awfully concerned about me a lot of the time.” She notes, pausing the music.

“Of course I am. You’re my best friend. I care about you.”

“Well yeah but…how much?” She queried.

“What do you mean?” He cocks his head.

She scoffs. “You know what I mean, genius. Now answer the question.”

“Well…um…I suppose that…the answer is…a lot.” His gaze is averted from her.

“Spencer…look at me please.” She requests softly.

He obeys and his gaze lifts to meet here. “Yes?” He asks softly.

“Enough to almost blow our chance of catching that scum?”

He chuckled sheepishly, remembering what he’d done. “Yeah…that much.”

She puts her book down and stands up, going over to his bed. He looks up at her as she stands in front of him. She smiles down at him as she reaches up to cup his face. He smiles back up at her, letting her touch him. He wasn’t bothered by her touch.

“You were really scared, weren’t you?” She asks softly.

“I was terrified.”

“Even though I can handle myself?”

“I know you can. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was…” he trails off and his gaze averts briefly.

“Yes?”

“I couldn’t rationalize it in my mind. I knew you could handle yourself but that didn’t seem to matter. I was still scared. I couldn’t calm down. All of my nerves were on edge.”

“But why? If you knew I’d be fine…why worry?”

“Because…I care about you…because…because I think I love you. No…that’s not…I-I know that I love you.”

“You love me? Really?” She smiles.

“Oh absolutely.” He smiled back. “I think I have for quite a while now, I just…I just didn’t know how to express that to you. I could never…find the right words.”

“You couldn’t find the right words?” She chuckles lightly.

“Believe it or not, no. But I’ve…I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings.”

“Well…the great thing about feelings is…you don’t necessarily need words to express them.”

“You don’t?” He looked at her quizzically.

She shakes her head. “No. You don’t. Actions work just as well.”

“Act-”

She cuts him off for the first time ever by leaning down to kiss him softly. He smiles softly and presses into the kiss. He’s waited so long to feel her lips against his. And it’s just as wonderful as he imagined it would be.

[groguspicklejar]

part 5 of zombie!ghost

you don't know whether to be relieved or horrified.

first, you're immune to the infection and now zombies don't attack you. you look human. you feel human. what gives?

the wound on your hand has healed. you don't feel any different than you have before you were bitten. it was weird enough that Ghost, although infected, was sentient in a way and it would make sense that he'd walk among the infected because his body closely resembles that of one. but not you.

your flesh was still warm. heart still beats, lungs still need air and your blood was still as red as any normal human being.

you wave a hand in front of one zombie. no reaction. the undead man keeps walking. when you yelled at the top of your voice, you caused a bit of a stir. but the zombies that you had attracted only seemed to move around you, looking for the human that was in their territory, brushing past you as if you weren't the one who caused the ruckus.

"huh." you mused, glancing at Ghost. "weird."

but since this technically means you were in no real danger, you smiled and thought of something.

"hey, Ghost." he looked at you. "ever been on a shopping spree?"

you think a wave of terror might have flashed in his mirky eyes.

there's a certain freedom that comes with being immune to a plague that ended the world. first, the most sensible thing to do was find the nearest weapons store and stock up on those, as well as other supplies.

then the fun began.

you had a blast touring through the city. all the pretty stores that you never got to visit were now open to you and Ghost. you tried on designer clothes that you never would've otherwise looked at, let alone even afforded.

"how do i look?" you twirled around in the flow dress, admiring your new look in the mirrors. Ghost grunted and looked away. you pouted and picked the other hanger. "okay, fine. i like this one better."

dresses weren't really ideal in this new norm. so you settled for a pair of new pants and a shirt. Ghost got a new helmet and a mask to hold him his broken jaw. surprisingly enough, he didn't mind the pink mask. you even put a pair of heart sunglasses on him to accessorise his new look.

"oh, those glasses look nice." you cupped his face before picking up the Polaroid camera you swiped from the electronic store. "how about we document this moment? say cheese!"

you took so many pictures, that you needed one of the albums to file them all. you hugged it to your chest with a big smile. "I'm going to treasure these with my life."

Ghost might not be the man he once was. he might not speak or react the way you'd want him to, but his presence alone was enough to keep you going. he's always kept you going.

you were glad he was there when you were bitten. you don't know how you ever could've gotten through that ordeal by yourself. you don't know how he got through it alone and you wished you could've been there for him.

if anything about this adventure means something to him as much as it does to you, you hope he'll remember it if somehow you part ways for good.

he's startled by your sharp gasp and rushes to your side, drawing his gun to eliminate any threat. but there was none.

"ice cream!" you pointed to the parlour and took his hand and dragged him inside. the display was trashed and a complete mess, which was to be expected. but you went around the back. "look, the fridge is still on! you don't think-"

you opened the fridge and squealed. "it hasn't melted!"

Ghost watched your face brighten with absolute joy as you found boxes of unopened ice cream cones and scooped up mountains of the cold desert. something in his chest warmed as he observed you.

he's never seen you this happy in a long time. the only reason he even let you put on anything pink on him is to see you smile. he doesn't think he could've denied you anything when your eyes shine like that.

"it's so good." you hummed gleefully and handed him your cone. "Ghost, you need to try this!"

eventually, you and Ghost wandered into the zoo. some of the animals were still there. mostly herbivores that survived on the vegetation nearby. both of you stayed a good distance away from them as you admired them.

then you gasp at a new sight. the python exhibit.

"think they're still in there?" you asked as you walked closer to it. "c'mon, let's find out."

only, you don't realize that he stopped following you until you went past the sign. you looked behind you to find him standing a few yards away. "Ghost?"

not a sound comes out of him. he only stares at the sign with an expression you've never seen before.

you pulled at his arm but he won't budge. "hey, come on. let's go see."

a low groan is all you get from him. he won't move. in fact, he takes a few steps back. you stare at him, shocked.

this is new. he's never not followed you anywhere.

"Simon?" he looks away from you when you step closer to him, trying to read him. you eyes widen when you came to a realization.

he's... scared.

you glance at the sign. python exhibit. snakes. is that why he won't go in there? as fearless as he's always been, you don't think anything could've frightened him.

"oh... you don't like snakes?" he shakes his head. your shoulders drop. damn, you really hoped to see a python, but if he won't go, then you won't either. "that's okay. we'll check out the other exhibits instead."

you took his hand and started pulling him elsewhere. it's unclear if this was just your imagination or not, but you think he squeezed your hand.

you and Ghost kept going, pushing forward and exploring more of the zoo. some of the animals were still there, even though the cages were open. some exhibits were empty. and some weren't.

you didn't dare to take a look at the skeletons of the animals that had starved to death. most were carnivores. poor things.

as usual, you chattered away while your undead sentinel followed closely behind. in some moments, you think he might actually be listening as you spoke to yourself, but you can't be sure and you don't dare to ask him.

unbeknown to both of you, some of the cameras were still active. and someone was watching.

Cure For Me Masterlist offer a coin to the picklejar this initially started as a drabble to push back against the angst surrounding zombie!ghost but I've been having some thoughts aaand i might turn this into a full fic. banners by @cafekitsune

[sharksnshakes]

New Perspective

After losing a bet with friend and fellow DSO agent Leon Kennedy, he takes you for a ride on his motorcycle. Unforeseen consequences include windburn, watery eyes, and maybe developing a crush on him. Maybe.

AN; so i'm back with another installation of bestie leon wanting to be more than besties. you can read as a continuation of this one, anyways post-re2 leon is still on the brain and likely will be forever

Wordcount; 1.1k

TW; mentions of a potential motorcycle crash, mildly suggestive

Never again are you making a bet with Leon Kennedy.

"What were the terms again? Five minutes?" He asks, a shit eating grin on his face.

You speak through gritted teeth. "Yeah. Five."

Leon's grin widens.

"Shut up," you say halfheartedly, warily glancing down at the motorcycle you're both perched on.

"Didn't say anything, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and zip your jacket up.

You're not sure how Leon's bike is supposed to safely carry you at all, let alone through busy downtown streets, without throwing one of you off or blowing up or spinning out of control or something. Suffice to say, you're not a fan of motorcycles--Leon knew that when you'd made the bet, and you'd only agreed because you'd been so certain that you'd win. Why else risk life and limb on the back of his Ducati?

That was the thing about Leon Kennedy and bets, though, because you've come to realize that he's got a way of winning regardless of how the odds are stacked. It's great for field work, but it's also a massive pain in your ass, because (news flash) you lost and now you'll have to endure a five minute ride on his death trap of a motorcycle.

"Let's get it over with," you sigh, looping your arms around his waist. The engine purrs beneath you, sending a shudder through your body.

"Y'know," he muses, and you can hear the grin in his voice, "I bet I could do a wheelie."

You laugh, you hope he doesn't feel the slight tremble in your hands, you hope he can't hear the nervous twinge to your voice. "Absolutely fucking not."

He drives slowly through the parking garage. Most DSO staff have already left for the night, and it's probably better that way, because the last thing the two of you need is for a hotshot supervisor to call you out on your antics. Meaning Hunnigan. Because if Hunnigan saw that neither of you were working on the literal mounds of paperwork gracing your desks, she'd probably hit you with a Jeep.

"Might wanna hold on tighter than that," Leon says offhandedly, revving the engine as you approach the street entrance.

"I'm not your backpack, Kennedy."

He chuckles. "Didn't think you'd know the lingo."

"You know that nobody says 'lingo' anymore, right? This is why Claire says you sound like an old man."

"Well, suit yourself," he shrugs, and suddenly you're rocketing into traffic.

You curse violently, digging your fingers into Leon's sides hard enough to bruise. You swear you feel him laughing, but you can't hear a damn thing over the engine and you're more focused on not falling into oncoming traffic.

"Fuck you, Kennedy," you mumble against his leather jacket, your eyes tightly shut.

The agent banks around a turn and you just barely hold back another string of curses. As his body shifts in the seat, you can feel the muscles in his sides stretch and shift and move beneath your fingers, and, wow, he's built, and now your cheeks are pricking with heat. You try not to think about it.

"You okay back there?" Leon calls, bringing the bike to a slow stop at a red light.

"Haven't decided yet?"

"Well, lucky for you, we're at-" he stops, glancing quickly at his watch. "-The two minute mark. Only three to go."

"Technically," you say, peeling yourself off of his back, "It's already been five, if you factor in the drive from the parking garage. So I say we head back."

He casts a glance over his shoulder at you, a smile playing across his lips. "That wasn't the deal, sweetheart."

"Would you quit with the 'sweetheart'?"

"You'd prefer 'backpack', then?"

"I'd prefer nothing, actually," you tease back, even though a tiny voice in your head riots at the thought. This banter with Leon is nothing new. You go back and forth like this in the office, on jobs, whenever, but perched on the back of Leon's bike has you feeling like you've crossed a line with the teasing somehow, like maybe he's actually flirting with you and maybe you're not actually minding it.

"Yeah, well..." The light changes to green. "Nevermind. Hang on, yeah?"

This time, you're feeling brave enough to divert some of your attention from clinging to Leon like your life depends on it, and instead you glance to the sides and take in the bustling downtown scene around you.

The sun's just barely set, casting a dusky haze over the streets. Pedestrians clog the sidewalk, passing through pools of golden lamp-post light; some duck into stores, some leave their apartments, some walk their dogs. You pass a restaurant with outdoor seating, a bookstore, a bank, and you've seen all of these places before on your daily commute, but the back of Leon's motorcycle is affording you a new perspective.

You turn your head to look at the other side of the street and catch a waft of Leon's cologne in the process. It's faint, but distinctly him. It's enough to bring the tiny voice in the back of your head to center stage, where it drenches the situation in rosy colors and 'what if's and 'sweethearts', grabbing you by the shoulders and practically injecting fantasized scenarios into your head. Everything from grocery shopping to painting your living room to getting in bed--

Oh, fuck, are you being a creep?

"Just another minute!" Leon shouts.

You nod against his back and swallow with a dry mouth. Your cheeks are flushed, you can feel it, and you hope you'll be able to play it off as windburn. The last minute of your ride is spent not unlike the first: with eyes slammed shut, ignoring Leon's heartbeat at your chest and ignoring the way your own heart whispers that there's more to be had here than just a friendship.

When Leon finally parks the bike in the garage and cuts the engine, your chest unclenches. Your five minutes are over and you are never getting on a motorcycle again.

The blond helps you off, looking far too amused.

"So, sweetheart... you liked the ride, yeah?" He raises his brows at you suggestively, but it's so exaggerated that you're positive he's just doing this on purpose.

You still nearly choke on your spit.

All the way back to the office, the two of you go back and forth over whether the Ducati's evil and dangerous and a horrible investment. He's laughing, insisting it isn't necessarily deadly, and you keep laughing incredulously and saying that's not a strong argument. Things feel normal again, and you've effectively written off the tiny voice in the back of your head as a bizarre, anxiety-induced response to your first and last ride on a motorcycle.

But his hand lingers on your shoulder for a little too long when you say you're heading out for the night, and after the rapid-fire scenarios that flashed through your head on that goddamned bike, you're not so sure you got rid of that tiny voice after all.

[harringtown]

wrap me up in all your—

still not over that obscure friends to lovers prompt list so I did number 30 w Eddie!!!!

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: everyone forgets Eddie’s birthday except the reader (aka a cupcake, a joint, a gift, and a confession or two)

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cursing and weed/smoking mention

-

The trailer park is quiet. The autumn chill has settled over town like a blanket, unearthing winter jackets and beanies from closets and marking every breath with a plume of white air.

Eddie sits beside you on his front porch, and though the light swinging overhead flickers every few seconds, and the wooden stairs are halfway to rotted, it’s his favorite place in the world.

Anywhere that has you in it is his favorite place in the world.

He’d like to blame that sappy sentiment on the joint you surprised him with an hour ago and have been passing back and forth, but if he’s honest, Eddie feels that way sober.

You make him feel and think all that sappy shit he was sure only existed in movies.

You showed up, with a dorky birthday hat and a joint sticking out of a cupcake, and Eddie instantly felt high.  And so, even though his day started at crappy and only got worse from there, it’s looking to have a decent ending.

As far as birthdays go, this certainly isn’t the worst. It’s almost better that everyone forgot. No last-minute, hasty gifts or the off-key singing of some waitress and his uncle.

It doesn’t even matter that everyone else forgot. Because you didn’t.

“I got you a present,” you say eventually, jabbing out the last burning embers of the roach and tossing the filter into the tiny pile at the bottom of the steps. Other filters from other nights smoking on this porch, the best of them with you.

“I thought we just smoked the present,” Eddie says.

You snort a laugh and bump Eddie’s shoulder with your own.

“No, that was the candle,” you say. “It would have been better if you rolled it. You’ve got magic hands.” You lift your arms and do jazz hands, making Eddie laugh, and then cough, which makes you laugh, too. Then you’re just two high idiots giggling on a crumbling porch, but Eddie is happier than he has been in a long time.

“Not everyone has the magic touch,” Eddie says. He raises his own hands, and doesn’t miss the way your gaze falls and lingers on each finger, each ring and crooked knuckle and calloused fingertip. Eddie drops his hands. “So. What’s this present you speak of? It better be damn good, after all you’ve hyped it up.”

“I did no hyping,” you accuse. You tear your gaze from Eddie’s and drop it to your lap, where you’re worrying the hem of your hoodie between your fingers. “And it probably isn’t that good—”

Eddie blames the weed on his sudden confidence. He takes your chin in one hand, forcing you to look at him, and he doesn’t realize how close you are on the porch until he almost smashes your nose with his own.

“Whatever it is, sweetheart,” he says, gentler than he intends, “I’m sure I’ll love it.” Your eyes dip, dip to his mouth, and now Eddie is looking at your lips, and he can’t stop.

He clears his throat and sits back. “You’ve never gone wrong before. Christmas ‘82?” He shrugs his shoulders and flashes you a lopsided grin. “Alright, yeah, you kind of screwed future you, there. How the hell do you follow thatup?”

You roll your eyes, but Eddie can tell you’re pleased. He’s known you so long that nonactions are actions, too.

“You and that damn guitar,” you say.

“What can I say? You did good, kid,” Eddie says. He bumps your shoulder again. “C’mon. Quit stalling. Let’s see it.”

You scrunch your nose. “Technically, there’s not really anything to see. I mean, I have a piece of paper, like a written agreement, but—”

“Earth to y/n,” Eddie says in a singsongy voice, though honestly, he’d be content to watch you talk about nothing for hours.

You nod a few times. Clear your throat. Don’t look at him as you say, “I kind of… booked you a gig.”

And Eddie’s dry mouth becomes the Sahara desert.

“You—what?”

“And I don’t know if I’d really call it a gig. More of an… audition? That fancy new club, The Tunnel, is looking for a local band to play Friday nights, and they want something different, so I played them one of your tapes. The manager liked it. He said if you do well at the show in a few weeks, you could be in there every friday night—”

“Are you serious?” Eddie asks.

You stop. Meet his eyes. “Of course I’m serious.”

“Holy shit.” Eddie pushes off the porch steps, onto the dirt below, and shakes his head. “Holy shit.” He wraps his arms around his torso and turns to you, shaking his head again. “Are you serious?”

You laugh, and say, “For the second time, yeah, I’m serious.” You swipe at your nose and sniffle. “Not that your usual joint isn’t great, but I figured, maybe you and the guys wanted to change it up a bit¸—”

And Eddie can’t hold back anymore. He rushes you, throwing his arms around your waist, knees digging into the step below you, burying his face in your neck.

You laugh again, and hug him back, and when you dip your face against his, your cool lips graze his temples. His stomach lurches, and his pulse sings, and yeah, he’s definitely high, but it’s most certainly not all from the weed.

All his reservations fall away. Fall apart. Never fucking existed at all, and he’s just been kiding himself.

Eddie pulls back to look at you.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says. “I love you.”

You let out a little laugh. “I love you, too, dude.”

He shakes his head. Peels himself away from you and drops onto the step beside you. “No. I mean, I love you. I’m in love with you. And I have been since we were sixteen. I was doing a pretty good job of not doing anything about it, trying to maintain the friendship and all that, but then you show up here, and you tell me you booked my band a gig—”

“Technically not a gig!”

“—a gig,” Eddie says. “And suddenly, I don’t give a shit about maintaining anything. So, thanks for that. And I love you. I really fucking love you. Sorry if that screws things up.”

For a long second, you just look at him, and Eddie thinks he could die right there on that porch—which is ironic, considering he kind of almost did, if the grass near this porch in a parallel universe counts.

“Do you have any idea,” you ask, “how long I’ve been waiting for you to admit that?”

Eddie jerks back. “What are you—you knew?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and look away, a sheepish smile on your face.

“I mean, of course I knew,” you say. “I’ve known you since we were ten. I know you. But time went on, and you still never said anything, and I wasn’t sure if I was wrong, or if you just had no goddamn clue how you felt, and then—“

“And how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

Your smile shifts. It shines like a thousand stars, brighter than anything in the night sky.

“I really fucking love you too,” you say. And then you kiss him, and you taste like frosting and weed and a thousand future kisses.

Eddie ends it sooner than he’d like—if he doesn’t, he’ll do something non-gentlemanly things on his porch, and he’s really trying to be a gentleman—and you drop your head onto his shoulder. You lace your fingers through his, fiddling with his rings with your free hand.

Sometime later, you lift your head, and say, “You never told me your wish.”

The cupcake with the joint. You instructed him to make a birthday wish on the first hit.

Eddie averts his gaze, swiping the hair from his eyes.

“My wish?” He shrugs. Meets your eyes. “You know the rules. Secret.” He draws his fingers across his lips and mimics throwing away a key.

You roll your eyes. “Humor me.”

Eddie inclines his head and considers a moment.

“You really want to know?”

“I want to know everything in that head,” you say, lifting two fingers to his temples.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a dork, but he doesn’t care.

“It was you,” he says. “It’s always you.”

You press your lips together, but a smile tugs them up. You wind your arms around his neck and dip your forehead against him.

“Well,” you say softly. “You’ve got me. Time to find a new wish.”

“I’ll figure it out later,” he says. “Now, I just really want to kiss you again. You cool with that?”

You laugh, and say, “Yeah, I’m cool with that.”

Then you kiss him again.

And Eddie thinks this might be the best birthday he’s ever had.

-

taglist (join here!): @milkiane​ @robiin-buckley​ @copycatkillerfics​  @robinbuckleyssgf​ @isshecrazyorissheclever

[luxaofhesperides]

those who serve.

Running away from Amity Park—from his entire dimension—Danny takes refuge in the streets of Gotham. It's hard, suddenly being a homeless teenager in such a crime-ridden city, but it's better than dying a second time.

Enter Alfred Pennyworth, a kind old man who works as a butler who, for some reason, has decided to befriend Danny.

His future is still up in the air, but he's hopeful that things will work out. After all, Alfred isn't getting any younger and someone needs to help him with his butler duties. Danny's just the right person for the job.

Or: Alfred Pennyworth sees a homeless teen who looks like he'd fit right into the Wayne family and decides to take matters into his own hands. It's not like he's just going to leave this very sad, possibly meta teenager alone when there's more than enough space in the Manor to house one more child in need.

read chapter one on ao3 or below the cut.

Technically, Danny doesn’t exist. 

He has no papers, no records, no family in this dimension. It’s a blank slate, a fresh start where he can be anything he wants. That doesn’t change what he is, however, and Danny is just another lonely child living on the streets. 

In Gotham, he’s not a hero or a threat; he’s just another nameless face passing by, another teenager with no support system and no future. Just a figure clinging to the alley walls, head bowed and hands tucked into the pocket of his hoodie. It’s not great, far from it, but it’s better than the alternative where he—

—parading around in the corpse of our son! How dare you! Wearing his face won’t save you from what we’ll do to you! Leave Danny’s body so we can bury him, leave him! I’ll tear you ap—

This is better, is the point. Out of the frying pan and into the crime ridden streets of Gotham. Not quite a fire but close enough.

No one is hunting him down in this dimension, at least. He’s ignored and left to his own devices, wandering the streets only when the sun’s gone down and slipping into grocery stores after hours, invisible, to get a few things to eat. It sucks that he’s resorted to stealing to survive, but at least he’s surviving. 

Survival is the entire reason he ran from his own dimension, after all.

He’s been here for two and a half weeks now, getting acquainted with the streets. Every day is spent hiding and trying to endure the crushing loneliness and grief of losing his entire life. He’s still half alive, yes, but the life he lived has gone up in flames, torn to pieces under his parents’ attacks. He can’t even blame them for it; under the circumstances, with the limited understanding they had, it’s only natural that they would try to kill him after discovering that Danny Fenton, their son, died two years ago.

Understanding doesn’t stop the sting of betrayal, doesn’t soothe the ache of being chased away from his family, but it’s something. 

It’s all he has, these days.

There’s no one to hide from, no one who knows him at all, so Danny wanders, more ghost-like than he’s ever been before. People give him a wide berth at night, never making eye contact and walking by faster. 

Save for one, of course. One person, at dawn, who always seems to find him no matter where Danny’s wandered that night. 

He introduced himself as Alfred Pennyworth. The British accent caught Danny off guard enough that he stopped and turned to face the man, who stood a few feet away, umbrella held over his head. 

“Are you quite all right, my boy?” he had asked. “I have a spare umbrella if you would like to keep from getting any more soaked.”

It took a few tries for Danny to find his voice after a week of not speaking a word. “No,” he rasped, barely audible over the rain, “I’m fine.”

He walked away without another word, thinking that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Alfred returned dawn after dawn, never staying longer than ten minutes, trying to make small talk with Danny. 

Danny, for his part, had no idea why this random British man had decided to make friends with a homeless teenager, but figured that he was just a lonely old man with no family left. That, Danny could understand. So he’d stay for a bit, listening to him talk and occasionally replying, then say his goodbyes when more people began to emerge onto the street. 

Two and a half weeks in, Alfred finally asks Danny for his name.

“Why?” Danny asks, shifting where he stands. He doesn’t exist here, but it doesn’t stop his instinctual need to run from anyone who goes looking into him. The GIW don’t exist here, no one is hunting him down. There’s no information about him in this dimension that can be used against him. It’s hard to remember that, not after he’s spent the last few years trying to keep ghost hunters from finding him. 

“I feel it’s rather rude of me to speak to someone I have never properly greeted,” Alfred says. He always speaks so calmly, as if there’s nothing in the world that can shake his composure.

I don’t exist here, Danny reminds himself, I’m safe. 

“Danny.”

“Danny,” Alfred repeats. “A fine name.”

“Thanks? It was my first birthday present.”

The stupid comment makes Alfred smile, just a little, so Danny calls it a win instead of beating himself up over having zero control over what his mouth says. 

There’s more movement along the streets now, Gotham beginning to wake up with storeowners getting ready for the day and morning shift employees heading out to let the night shift go. It’s just about time for them to part ways until the next morning, and Danny’s resigning himself to another day of loneliness. 

His short conversations with Alfred are really all he looks forward to. It’s nice to hear about the man’s time in England, his work as a butler, his opinions on American cuisine and the like. He never presses for a response and he doesn’t try to dig for more information about Danny. Just talks to him, then says his goodbyes. 

“I’ll let you go back to your day,” Danny says, pushing off of the wall he’s been leaning against. “See you around.”

Alfred nods once. “Very well. I do hope you get some rest today, Danny. You always look very tired when we talk. I hope I haven’t been keeping you from sleeping.”

“Oh, not at all. I just have insomnia. Better to have some company than just lay around wondering why I can’t sleep, you know?”

“Indeed. I shall be off then.”

“Yeah, alright,” Danny says. “I’ll see you tomorrow once you somehow track me down again. Are you sure you don’t have magic?”

Alfred shakes his head with a small smile. “I am quite positive I do not have magic. Perhaps we simply have similar ideas about where the best places to walk are.”

“Sure,” Danny says, drawing out the word. “Whatever you say.”

Truth be told, the first few days, he was scared that Alfred was somehow tracking him down. For what, Danny didn’t know. Maybe he wanted to harvest Danny’s organs? Sell him to an evil scientist to be experimented on? Induct him into a mob?

Alfred didn’t do any of that. He just showed up, talked for a few minutes, then went on his way. He never followed Danny, never asked strange questions, never did anything besides chat about his life and his work as a butler. 

It honestly was fun to listen to. It’s clear how much Alfred cares for his employers. Before meeting him, Danny had never really thought of butlers beyond being an outdated job for people too rich to do their own chores. Now it’s interesting, learning all the things a butler has to do and why Alfred chooses to do them. 

He still doesn’t have a favorable opinion on billionaires. Too many bad experiences for him to view them is any unbiased light (thanks for that, Vlad, but eat the rich either way); still, it’s nice to know that this family looks out for Alfred. They give him a place to live, a family to live with, a reason to stay. 

It would be nice if Danny could have those too, in any way that he could. He’s at the end of his rope, struggling to stay and not surrender himself into the Zone and be done with the living realm entirely.

Even his Obsession isn’t enough to sustain him. There’s no one to protect here; honest to god vigilantes patrol the streets of Gotham to keep it safe. Danny isn’t needed here. 

There’s no place for him at all.

Already, his mood is plummeting and all he’s done is take a few steps away from Alfred. It doesn’t bode well for his future, whether that’s what’s to come in the next few hours or the next year.

Sighing, Danny ducks his head back down and begins his search for someplace to bunker down for the day. There are quite a few empty buildings around, newly constructed but not yet in use. He doubts there’s any security installed yet, so he should be safe to settle in and catch some sleep before the sun goes down. 

Just as he turns the corner, he hears someone running. They’re behind him and he tenses, ready to disappear so they can’t get him. 

It’s not Danny they go to. It’s Alfred.

“Hand over your wallet if you want to get out of here alive, old man!”

Shit, Danny thinks, spinning on his heel to get back to Alfred. He rounds the corner to see a mugger jabbing a gun at Alfred’s temple. He looks angry, nearly shaking, and there’s a strange shine in his eyes.

Drugs? No, not important. What’s important is that Alfred is standing still, as calm as ever, with his hands lifted in the air. 

“Hey!” Danny yells, sprinting towards them, “Back the fuck up before I rip your tongue out!”

Fear and anger push him on, his Obsession whispering protect protect protect in his ear and he closes the distance between them.

The mugger barely has time to move the gun away from Alfred’s head, and no time at all to point it at Danny, before Danny tackles him, slamming him onto the ground. He rips the gun out of the mugger’s hand and tosses it carelessly to the side. 

“Don’t touch him,” he hisses. Faintly, he’s aware that his features are shifting, becoming a little less human. The snarl building in his chest has his teeth sharpening, bared in warning. 

The mugger trembles beneath him, thrashing weakly. “Alright, alright! Just lemme go! Let go!”

He doesn’t want to. Danny wants to hurt him for daring to go after Alfred, the one good light in the dark, the only person Danny cares about in this dimension. He wants to make this man regret his choices, make him terrified for the rest of his life, break every bone in his hand so he can’t ever pick up a gun again. 

A hand drops onto his shoulder. 

“That’s enough, Danny,” Alfred says. His voice is stern and Danny can’t help but listen, effortlessly pulled out of his adrenaline fueled rage. His humanity returns to him. “There we are. Come now, my boy, stand up.”

He stands. The mugger scrambles to his feet and runs away. 

With the danger gone, Danny can think clearly again. He takes a few deep breaths and locks his ghost-half away as tightly as possible, keeping the cold in his chest buried deep. It was good for scaring away a mugger, but he doesn’t want Alfred to think he’s a monster. 

He can handle a lot, but not that. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking over Alfred for any injuries. There’s no telling that was done to him before Danny got the mugger away from him. It may have only been a moment, but Danny knows very well how quickly a moment can change a life (or take it away).

“Quite. In fact, I am sure you are in worse shape than I am, at the moment.” Alfred gestures downwards and Danny follows his gaze to his knees, where his already worn jeans have new holes in them. His knees are skinned from how hard he slammed into the ground, a dull ache he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out to him. 

“It’s fine,” he says, “I can barely feel it.” 

Alfred gives him a hard look, as though he thinks Danny is lying; he’s not, the pain is barely there. He’s had a lot worse in the past. He can handle skinned knees easily. 

“Well,” Alfred says, “Thank you for coming back to help me. If there’s anything I can do to pay you back—”

“No. I don’t… I didn’t do it for payment. I don’t need anything.”

“I would like to—”

“No,” Danny interrupts again. “No payment. I just did what was right. Don’t make this a big deal, please.”

Alfred sighs. “Very well,” he concedes, looking more tired and worn than Danny’s ever seen him. “I shall not keep you any longer. Until tomorrow, Danny.”

He looks as though he expects Danny to take the out, to leave immediately. Danny shifts, not meeting his eyes as he doesn’t move. 

“I’ll walk with you,” he mumbles. “So no one tries to hurt you again.”

Danny’s worried that Alfred will insist on going alone, that he’ll have to go invisible and follow along when he isn’t wanted, but Alfred is kinder than that. Alfred doesn’t refuse or insist he go on his own. No, he smiles and thanks Danny for his consideration before taking off, making sure that Danny walks besides him rather than behind him.

They don’t talk much. Alfred seems to know that Danny isn’t much for words at the moment, sticking to his side and constantly surveying their surroundings for any danger. He walks confidently through the streets as though he wasn’t just held at gunpoint, carrying on with his morning with the same stubborn spirit that keeps most Gothamites from giving up on their city. 

Alfred visits a small bakery first. They’re not yet open, but the owner props open the door when they arrive, waving them in.

“Alfred!” she greets cheerfully, “And I see you have someone new with you.”

She looks expectantly at Danny, who shifts uncomfortably under the attention. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t figure out how to get the right words out.

“Ah, yes,” Alfred says, smoothly drawing her attention off of Danny. “This is Danny. We often talk in the morning and he has decided to accompany me today.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Yurica. Alfred and I enjoy some tea together in the mornings before starting with our days. Why don’t you join us?”

“I don’t… mean to intrude,” Danny manages to say before Yurica waves off his hesitant refusal.

“Nonsense! Any friend of Alfred is a friend of mine. Come, come, let’s get the two of you seated. You’ll get the first picks of the day, once I get the last batches out of the ovens.”

She leads them into the bakery, past the kitchen and upstairs into a small sitting room. Danny follows them, unable to leave without seeming rude. He joins Alfred on the couch, awkwardly perched on the edge as Yurica bustles around, disappearing down the hall. 

Distantly, he hears the sound of running water and a stove top being turned on. The clinking of cups follows, along with the opening and closing of cupboards. It almost sounds like home, when Jazz was setting herself up for a long study session to make sure she’s prepared for college. 

Without noticing, Danny relaxes back into the couch. He keeps his eyes closed, just listening to the movement around the building; it’s soothing white noise that chases away the constant ache of loneliness he’s been carrying these past few weeks. 

“Quite the relaxing home, isn’t it?” Alfred asks. 

“You come here every day?”

“Not every day, but a few times a week. We’re old friends and are often up before anyone else. It’s nice to catch up for just a few minutes, especially at our age.”

He wonders if this is what it feels like, spending time with grandparents. He never met his own, could never relate to the kids who were always excited to spend time with their grandparents over the holidays, eager to be part of a bigger family. It was fine, before, when it was just him, Jazz, and their parents. 

It was fine. 

It didn’t last.

Yurica returns a few minutes later, carrying a tray full of cups and a teapot made to look like a fat cat. The sight of it makes him smile, almost distracting him from noticing the way Yurica and Alfred share a Look. 

“Here we are,” she says, setting the tray down on the table. She lays out the cups before Danny can offer to help, pouring out fragrant tea with a steady hand. “Cream? Sugar?”

Alfred adds cream to his own cup while Danny shakes his head, quietly thanking her for the tea. 

He cradles his cup in his hands, savoring the gentle warmth while Alfred and Yurica chat. He tunes them out, letting their voices fade into background noise. 

This is the most relaxed he’s felt in months. It’s sad to think about, so he tries not to, but it lingers in the back of his mind. 

Time passes without him noticing. Danny sips his tea until his cup is empty, then sets it down on the tray. That seems to be a cue that Alfred was waiting for, long done with his own cup, and he stands, thanking Yurica for her hospitality. 

She waves it off with a smile before Danny can echo the sentiments, then ushers them downstairs, where trays of freshly baked pastries fill cover the counters of the bakery’s kitchen. 

“Here, take your pick!”

Danny’s about to refuse when she shoves a paper bag into his hands. “Go on,” she says, “Take what you like. I always offer to friends and I find refusal to be rude.”

Now that she’s said that, Danny can’t keep refusing or he’ll feel awful. Alfred is already picking out a few pastries himself, so Danny trails after him, taking three pastries that look good. It’ll be enough to tide him over for the next two days, so he won’t have to steal any food. 

“Thank you again, Yurica,” Alfred says, “It’s always a pleasure to chat with you.”

“Oh, you’re always such a sweet talker,” Yurica laughs. “I’ll see you again soon, Alfred. And you, Danny, are welcome here whenever. Even without Alfred. My doors are open to you.”

Yurica is kind. She sees him in all his scraggly, worn down glory, clearly homeless and with nothing to offer her, and she doesn’t turn him away. Instead she welcomes him in solely because he’s here with Alfred. 

It’s enough to have him blinking back tears, ducking his head so they don’t see how much this affects him. 

“Thank you,” he manages, then hurries to follow Alfred out the bakery. 

Yurica waves at them from the door as they make their way down the street, then goes back in to continue preparing for the day. 

Alfred walks around some more; he informs Danny that he has no errands to run at the moment and no one else to visit. Danny follows, keeping an eye out for anyone who might think Alfred is an easy target. He barely pays attention to where they go until they enter an underground parking garage. 

The weak lights and stillness of the garage, along with the fact that it’s almost entirely empty, makes a fissure of unease race down his spine. This would be the perfect place for Danny to be knocked out and taken away; no witnesses, no help. 

But Alfred wouldn’t do that. Danny wants to believe that Alfred wouldn’t do that. 

He stops when Alfred pulls out a set of keys from his pocket. A black car in the back corner of the parking garage unlocks with a quick flash of the headlights. That is… an expensive looking car. It’s not an obvious luxury brand or anything, but it’s high quality and clearly made for people with money. 

Guess being a butler pays well, Danny thinks. 

Alfred opens the door, but doesn’t get into the car. Instead, he looks to Danny.

“Will you be alright, Danny? If you’d like, I have a first aid kit in the car that we can use to tend to your knees.”

“No, it’s fine. Thanks, though,” Danny says, trying to keep from tensing up too obviously. 

“And you have a place to stay?”

“Sure do,” he lies. 

“If you ever need help, you are welcome at Wayne Manor.”

Danny nods, intending to never go to the manor. He’s not going to risk another rich person trying to either 1) kill him or 2) make him their son. No way. Not in this dimension. 

Alfred looks him over, then nods. He gets into the car, offering Danny a quick goodbye. Danny lifts a hand in return, then leaves the parking garage, holding his bag of pastries close to his chest. More people are starting to fill the streets, starting the day, and Danny still hasn’t found a place to hide until night. 

He’s kept Alfred safe during his dawn walk. He’s safely delivered Alfred to his car so he can drive to wherever he needs to go.

There’s no point in him sticking around any longer. 

Hood up, Danny hurries down the streets, ducking into alleys to avoid being seen by people. It takes half an hour to reach the empty buildings he was considering before, and then just a minute to go invisible and fly up to the roof. The door going inside is locked, but a little intangibility goes a long way. 

Danny makes himself comfortable in one of the many empty rooms, back to the wall, and pulls out one of the pastries. It’s not as warm as before, but it’s still soft and flakey. The glaze on it sweetens the bread and it’s the best thing Danny’s had since he first arrived in this dimension.

This can’t go on, he realizes. 

All this squatting and stealing. It’s just not sustainable. He’s been acting as if he’s died again, left to haunt the streets of a city he doesn’t belong in. He’s spent all his time either sleeping or wandering, wallowing in his own misery.

No more. This is a second chance. 

There’s no ghost hunters. No GIW. No need to be a hero when so many already exist, willingly taking on that burden. Here, Danny doesn’t exist, which means he can be anyone he wants to be. 

And in order to live this new life, he’ll need a job. He’ll worry about school once he’s able to save up some money and find a place to live. 

Step one to getting his shit together: find a job that will take on a homeless teenager who doesn’t legally exist.

He’s already got one in mind; Alfred does keep offering to help in any way he can, and he’s made working as a butler sound fulfilling. 

Serving isn’t quite protecting, but it’ll be close enough that he can satisfy his Obsession. 

The pieces are falling into place. The more he thinks about it, the more he likes this plan. 

He’ll ask Alfred about it when they next meet. Everything else can wait until then.

(“Are you sure you’re okay, Alfred?”

“Quite,” Alfred says, smoothly stepping away from Bruce’s fussing. “Danny scared the mugger away before he could do anything.”

“I’m glad he was there. Are you sure I can’t go meet him? Thank him in person?”

“You’ll only scare him away, I’m afraid.”

Bruce sighs, reaching for his cup of coffee. “What about as Batman?”

“That will only be worse, I’m sure. Not everything can be solved by putting on a mask, Master Bruce.”

Tim enters the kitchen, drops a tablet on the table in front of Bruce, then collapses into his seat with a groan. “I can’t find anything on him. Are we sure he’s real?”

“I assure you he is very real, Master Tim.”

Tim lifts his head to give Alfred a bleary, assessing stare. “I know we always rag on B about his adoption problem, but he got it from you. You’re not going to stop until you get this Danny guy into the Manor, right?”

“It’s either that or setting up a home for him in Gotham.”

“Bring him here,” Tim says with a yawn, putting his head back on the table, “Now I’m curious about him, too.”

“I shall do my best, Master Tim. I shall do my best.”)

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 13

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

A/N: I know I didn't post anything last week, but I wasn't feeling the best or very inspired. But I am posting this long awaited chapter early 😬😬 and y'all should know, we are getting closer to the long awaited truth reveal 🫣🫣 TAGLIST CLOSED check notes below as to why

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Paul didn’t know what his plan was. Storming into the Black house and wolfing out would not have been the most ideal situation, but he needed to do something. Jacob had done an unforgivable thing, and Paul would make sure he knew he had.

But anger was running through him too fast to be contained. As much control as he had mustered with (Y/N), Paul could feel it running out. And he knew the worse thing he could do was reveal the long-kept secret of the reservation to Jacob before his time. As much as he wanted the wolf inside him to rip the other boy to shreds, he knew better now than to let that kind of anger control him.

Still, he found himself putting his car in park on the long dirt road that led to the red cabin, his body shaking as he tried to keep the wolf at bay. He knocked on the front door harder than he had anticipated. The sound reverberated deep inside his ears, echoing the quick beat of his heart. If Jacob was the one to open the door, it was more than likely that his fist would collide with the boy’s jaw.

“Mr. Lahote,” Billy smiled, opening the door wide. “What a surprise to see you here. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Is Jacob around?”

“He is not,” the man responded. “He is most likely with his friend Quil still. But if there is anything I could help you with, please let me know.”

“I don’t think this is something you should know,” Paul struggled. “It’s… I don’t know. I don’t think you want to hear this.”

“Try me, Paul.”

The boy kept quiet for a second, mulling over whether telling Billy was the right thing to do. It was stupid and juvenile to speak of the problems between two people that –technically—had no business with him. It was not his place to air their quarrels out. “I think you need to talk to your son, Billy,” he sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on in his head, but he can’t keep doing what he’s doing.”

“What has he done, Paul?” Billy asked sternly, his fist gripping at the sides of his chair. “Something tells me this has to do with (Y/N) Swan. And I know my boy has not been the kind of person I raised him to be. So, please, do not sugarcoat things for my sake.”

“I really wish I could say that it is not my place to speak about this, but I can’t just stand by and let him hurt her.” Paul took a steadying breath, the coldness in the air stinging his lungs as it filled them. “Jacob went by to see her today, to get her to find a way to get Embry back into his group. But we both know why he has felt the need to take a break when it comes to their friendship. Now, I don’t know how he came to the conclusion that (Y/N) would be able to do anything, but he basically told her that if Embry didn’t come back, that he would break up with her. For good. And maybe it was an accident like she says, or maybe he knew exactly what he was doing. But he either pushed her, or he let her go, and she got hurt, Billy. The skin on the palms of her hands is completely broken, and she has a massive bruise that covers her entire hip. So, I am hoping that it was an accident and he didn’t see her. Because if I find out that he drove away after she got hurt and left her there, I might just take matters into my own hands.”

Something like a mix of anger and disappointment flashed across Billy’s face. A gaze that chilled even Paul. “I can’t believe this,” Billy scoffed. “That boy has truly lost his mind. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Paul. Believe me when I tell you that the wrath of the gods will rain down on him. But I do want to ask you one thing, and I hope you answer truthfully.”

“Uh, sure. Anything.”

“Did you imprint on the girl?”

Paul felt his throat tighten at the mention of the bond. He had managed to get the pack to stop pestering him over telling her, and in two weeks, they had yet to mention the supernatural link that tied him to (Y/N). But, for some reason, he didn’t think that he was that easy to read.

He could have lied to the man. Tell him that (Y/N) was nothing more than a friend. That he didn’t want anything more than to make sure she was safe.  “I did,” he confessed. “But I haven’t told her about it.”

“I gathered as much,” he chuckled. “Would you care to indulge this old man for a quick chat?”

“I should be heading back,” Paul said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Patrol and everything.”

“Sam will excuse you for being late just this once,” the man smiled. “Please?”

“Uh, sure. I guess I can spare a few minutes. I'm already late as it is.”

He followed Billy inside, his steps tentative behind him. The elder pointed at his couch, inviting the boy to sit and listen. Something he was not good at. Listening to things he didn’t want to hear.

“First thing’s first, why haven’t you told (Y/N) about the bond? I figure it would make it a lot easier on everyone if she did.”

“I just…” Paul stammered, running his hands up and down his thighs to calm himself down. I don’t want her to be in the middle of this screwed-up world. I couldn’t live with myself if she ever got hurt because of our secrets. Much less because of me.”

“Doesn’t it hurt her more to keep her shielded from things that involve her?” Billy retorted. “(Y/N) is a special girl, and she has been stuck in the shadow of her sister for as long as I can remember. Unfortunately an afterthought to the Swans. I thought that my son would be the one to help her see her worth. That he would care for her in a way I don’t think she believes she deserves.” He took a second to sigh deeply, calming the anger that was bubbling inside him. “I will admit that I had hope that those two would work out because –between you and me—I’ve always had a soft spot for the girl. Having her be a part of my family in a more permanent way would have been great. But I can see that I was wrong about that. Now I understand that the affinity I thought she held for this land was because of you.”

“Getting closer to her will only hurt her in the end,” Paul said, his gaze dropping to the hands on his lap. “She needs someone that can be good for her. Good to her. I don’t think I am that person.”

“And yet the universe believes you are,” he offered. “I can’t say I felt the effects of the imprint bond. I didn’t even shift. But I’ve known love. And when things are meant to be, the universe finds a way to make it rightfully so. (Y/N) deserves to know there is someone out there that is on her side. Someone that will care for her unconditionally. Someone that only wants the best for her, even if it hurts them. She has a right to know about the things happening around her. Because at the end of the day, she is already in this world. Her sister ran with the Cullens and is friends with my son, who –given his behavior—might be getting closer to his shift; she is your imprint; she is still my Jacob’s girlfriend. This world is already happening to her. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“What if that just pushes her away?” Paul worried. “It has been hard enough to build a friendship with her. I can’t lose that. I won’t lose her.”

“And what if it doesn’t? What if it brings her closer? She deserves the truth, Paul. And you know it can only come from you. I wouldn’t like to see what would happen if she was made aware by anyone else.”

“I… I’ll think about it,” he said, trying to convince himself that he would. Because everything Billy had said was true. She deserved everything and more, and maybe he could be the one to give it to her. At least a fraction. “But I do have to go now. Sam will probably have my head if I am another minute late.”

“I’ll give that boy a call,” Billy chuckled. “But I do hope you decide to tell (Y/N) the truth. It might open roads neither of you thought to walk down.”

Paul felt his head buzz with the words Billy spoke. As they joined the endless talks given to him by Jared and Sam, he knew avoiding the topic could only hurt them both in the long run. But the demons that breathed down his neck were too close for his liking. They held him in their grasp, their claws sinking into his skin every day that passed. He wasn’t sure if he could keep them at bay or even fight them out before they could make their way to (Y/N).

When he got to the Young cabin, he felt exhausted. Definitely not in the best shape to run around the woods in search of nothing. All he wanted to do was lay down and be done for the day. Or better yet, to run back to Forks and hold (Y/N) once again. For the first time since he had shifted, he wanted to avoid his responsibilities and put someone else first.

“Paul,” Sam’s voice broke through the silence of the night, surprisingly startling him. “I just received a call from Billy Black. Seems like you two had a talk.” 

The alpha joined Paul on the bench he sat on, not a single drop of anger in his demeanor. “I’m sorry for being so late tonight,” he sighed. “I’ll go on watch now.” 

“No need for that. Embry took your shift,” he said. “You should thank him for his beginner’s can-do attitude.” 

“I will,” he sighed. “Thanks.” 

“So, what happened?”

“(Y/N) got hurt, and she called me,” he shrugged. “We actually… well, we were together when you called. And then my anger took me to the Black residence.”

“I already knew all of that, Paul,” Sam reminded him. “I’m asking about all the things that happened that I don’t know about.”

“I don’t…”

“So, you’re all talked out for tonight? Or do you think you’ve heard enough?” 

Paul’s gaze fell onto the night sky, staring at the twinkling stars above. “I don’t think there is anything else to say about the matter,” he sighed. “It’s just me and my messed-up head to work through.”

“Well, I know a thing or two about messed-up heads,” Sam chuckled softly. “And there’s always something more to talk about, Pauly-boy. But only if you’re ready to confront those things that you fear so much.”

“I… I don’t think I am, Sam. Not right now.”

“Well then, can I ask the same question I have been for almost two months?”

“I haven’t decided yet on telling (Y/N) the truth. I just need a bit more time to think. To make the best decision for her. At the end of the day, all I want is the best for her. Even if it doesn't include me, Sam.”

Jacob walked into the house late that night, as carefree and nonchalant as ever. He was ready to shower off the day and lay down to rest, hoping that when he woke up the next morning, everything that had gone wrong would resolve itself. But he wasn’t expecting to find his enraged father waiting for him in the living room.

“Dad?”

“Sit down, Jacob,” he said sternly, his tone sharp and pointed. “Now.”

“What’s going on, dad? Why are you so mad?”

“I think you can guess, son. But I won’t make it too hard on you. This is in regard to (Y/N). The girl you claim is your girlfriend.”

“What about her, dad?”

“Acting dumb is not a good look on you, Jacob,” Billy said through gritted teeth, his cheeks growing red in anger. “But since that is how you want to play this. I’ll let you know that it had come to my attention that you have physically hurt her.”

“Look, I don't know what you think you know, but I didn’t do anything to her, dad. All I did was talk.” 

“Let’s say it was an accident, then. That she did slip on the ice, and you didn’t notice that she was hurt –which is a very unlikely scenario, boy. But you dangled your relationship in front of her like it meant nothing. You wavered it like a bargaining chip over something she had no control over. I don’t know who this is sat before me, but I can say this is not the son I raised.”

“And you’re gonna believe her over me, dad? I didn’t do anything like that,” Jacob whined. “All I did was go over to my girlfriend’s house to rant about my best friend avoiding me. Anything else is a complete fabrication. I…” 

“Enough!” Billy exclaimed. The man rubbed at his temples, his anger settling into his head, creating a pounding headache. “(Y/N) didn’t tell me anything. But I know a lie when I hear it, son. And I know that you have been dragging that poor girl along in hopes that something might happen with Bella. I turned a blind eye because I hoped you would fall for her in the same way she had fallen for you. But you have done nothing but break her down. That girl loves you, boy. And you don’t deserve that.”

“How can you say that? I’m your son.”

“My son would have never treated her that way. My son would have stayed to make sure she was okay when she fell. My son would not have used that poor girl’s feelings against her,” he reprimanded. “I told you to let her go if this was what you were planning. You have hurt (Y/N) enough, and I will need you to man up and tell the truth.”

Jake was at a loss for words. He was sure he had never seen his father with so much anger running through his eyes. But he couldn’t admit the mess he had made of everything. How things had gotten out of hand and had blown up in a way that he never expected them to. He couldn’t admit that everything he had done was wrong.

“I didn’t hurt anyone, dad,” he said instead of the truth. “Why don’t you believe me?” 

“I think it’s best if you head to bed now, son. I’ve heard all that I needed to hear.”

“Dad?”

“I need some time to cool down, Jacob. So, whenever you feel the urge, to tell the truth, you know where to find me,” his father said. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Back in the Swan residence, (Y/N) was finding it hard to fall asleep. Her hip felt like it was on fire, and her hands pulsed in pain. But it was the warmth that had been rushing inside her since Paul had been there that kept her up. She decided to tire herself with the TV, but it was the images in her head that she had been paying attention to. Her fingers were on her lips, trying to imagine just what would have happened if that call hadn’t come in.

She was back in the bathroom. Paul’s hands were still warm on her skin, her heart hammering on her chest. He’s right there. Only centimeters away from her. She can almost feel his lips on hers. She could already feel the warmness of his breath. Only this time, she does kiss him, and it makes sense. Kissing him feels right.

“(Y/N)?” Her father’s voice startles her out of her dreaming. A live representation of how much time had already passed. “What’re you doing still up?” 

“I couldn’t seem to find sleep,” she shrugged. “Figured the TV would fry my eyes into slumber as it seems to do for you but no such luck.”

“Very funny, kid,” he chuckled. Until his laughter died when he saw his daughter’s bandaged hands. “(Y/N), what happened?”

“I lost my balance on the driveway after Jake left and crashed onto the pavement,” she said. “I tried to catch myself with my hands, but I forgot I have Swan blood running through my veins, and clumsiness is in our genes. I scratched them up good, so I covered them up.” 

“Why didn’t you call me, kid? Are you hurt anywhere else? Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“God, dad, no,” she chuckled awkwardly. “I’m okay now. It’s all taken care of.”

“Are you sure? You know the hospital is open twenty-four hours.”

“I am sure, dad. I’m okay. Just a little banged up.”

Charlie slumped onto the armchair in defeat, exhaustion taking over his body. “Sometimes I feel like I am failing you girls,” he sighed. “I’m so over my head with this whole parenting thing, and you two are the ones paying the price.”

“No, dad…”

“You don’t have to guard my feelings, (Y/N). I know I’m not father of the year. I’m sure there are so many things I’ve missed since the time you’ve been here, just like there were so many things that I missed with Bella. And I can’t help but wonder if it would have been better if you had gone back home with your mom like it was originally planned.”

“As much as I love and miss mom, I don’t regret for a second coming here, dad. In the short time I’ve been here, Forks became home. It’s not perfect, much like no place could ever be, but it is home. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

(Y/N) didn’t understand her feelings. She didn’t understand wanting Paul to kiss her. The complexity of liking to people at once hadn’t even crossed her mind because she didn’t think it was possible. Not in its entirety. And for the first time, she felt an ounce of relief at the prospect of Jacob leaving her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have to confront these confusing feelings and she could follow what felt right.

But it was only an ounce.

Next ->

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[torukmaktoskxawng]

run away with me

Pairing: Nor/Sarentu!Reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Avatar Frontiers of Pandora, fluff, angst, mentions of brainwashing and residential school trauma

Taglist: @mooniequeen

A/N: No one has requested me to write for AFoP so I decided to take matters into my own hands *cracks knuckles* Let's get to work.

This is basically my rendition of the cutscene you see when playing the game, after the title card. I made it lean more toward the angsty, romance play that we were robbed of when the game finally came out XD Enjoy!

Part 2

When So'lek told you that Nor had left Resistance HQ to have some time to think, you knew you needed to seek him out.

Using your new abilities and talents to track him down, it didn't shock you when you found Nor on one of the highest cliffs near the base of their new home. You remember he made a comment earlier about how there were more colors on Pandora than he remembered and how he had no names for them. You suspected he'd be all the way out here, admiring those colors and maybe trying to invent new names for them.

He didn't react when you approached the small fire he made, likely expecting you to come find him. He turned to face you with lowered ears and a forlorn look in his eyes, "What must our ancestors think of us? Do you think they pity us? Sad to see what we've become?"

"We're still Sarentu."

"Teylan barely speaks our tongue, but then... he always preferred human words."

"Alma says we all need time to adjust."

"Alma is not Na'vi." He growled lowly, turning away to kneel down in front of the fire.

You weren't deterred by his attitude, knowing Nor better than you sometimes knew yourself. He felt things stronger than most. He was passionate about what or how he felt and he wasn't afraid to admit it, hence why he didn't shy away when he proudly proclaimed his feelings toward you. It was years ago now, just the night before Alma snuck you and your friends into cryosleep to wait out the war. All that time you could've been with Nor... lost to cryosleep.

Nor felt the same loss as well, and that is why he wasn't wasting any more time. When neither of you are out on missions, you're with each other, safe at HQ, making up for lost time. Your relationship is technically still new and can easily be chalked up to young love, but Nor didn't see it that way. He claimed that was the way only Sky People saw it, but not the Na'vi. He wanted to do this right, and in his mind, the only right way was the Na'vi way.

So he asked So'lek for advice, on standard Na'vi customs and what the older man might know about the Sarentu ways to court someone. Nor was determined and straightforward about what he wanted to make sure you only got the best treatment. The Na'vi treatment, something that you deserved to have when you were younger but it was taken from you.

That's what you loved about him, growing up beside him. He reminded you so much of your sister at times with their shared determination as kids, though you refused to continue making that comparison after she died... afraid that if Nor acted too much like Aha'ri, then he would die just like her. You couldn't bear to lose him, too, not after everything Mercer and TAP have done to you.

Even now, as you two stood on top of that cliff, you were afraid of losing him, either to death or to life, should life and fate decide to tear you two apart. You wished you could vocalize your fear to him, but you were never as brave or as straightforward as Nor. You were grateful he had approached you about his feelings first, or else neither of you would've ever known.

Although you were not one with words, you were one with actions, and even Nor knew that you communicated with deeds.

Walking up to him, you slide your hand over his shoulder, and while he doesn't say a word, trapped with the demons in his head, he places his own hand on top of yours, a gesture of gratitude. He was thankful for your comfort, knowing that your way of communicating stems from being touch-starved and you would rather voice your thoughts through your actions instead of just saying them because, to you, that means so much more.

You keep your hand on his shoulder, the warmth of his palm bleeding into your skin while you look up and over the cliffside, admiring the scenery with a sad tone in your voice, "Why did the RDA come back?"

"They wanted more of Pandora," he responds with defeat, "They always do."

"Then we'll need to fight," you express with determination, squeezing his shoulder, "Aha'ri would have wanted us to fight."

You try to pull away, but Nor is suddenly too fast. He grasps your hand, gently, and you pause in your movement. He stands to his full height to gaze into your eyes, trying to relay what he's thinking without saying a word. But he wasn't like you. He wasn't good at sharing his thoughts through actions. He was better at it by talking, so that is what he did.

"Or we could run," he suggests and is quick to continue when the expression on your face falls, "Leave this place. Find somewhere else to call home."

"We've talked about this, Nor," you sigh tiredly, recalling not long ago when you, him, Ri'nela and Teylan were all sitting around a fire as Nor suggested they could all run away together. You express the same thing you said back then, too, "Alma brought us here for a reason. She believes in us."

He snarls, though there isn't much heat behind it, "Alma just wants to control us."

Not even you believed what he was saying, lowering your voice to a comforting whisper, "Alma is not Mercer. She actually cares about us as People."

"She left us."

"She thought we were gone."

He steps closer until he's nearly pressed against your chest, his hands sliding up to gently grasp both sides of your face, entwined in your hair. His voice wavered, desperate eyes staring back into yours, "If it were me instead of her, I would've clawed through the rubble of TAP, and I would've looked forever. Un... until I knew for sure if I lost you or not."

You wanted to be touched by the statement, your heart fluttering in your chest while Nor could no doubt feel your heartbeat, pumping through his hands as they rested near both sides of your neck. You shake your head slightly, "That is different. What Alma feels for us is not the same as... as what you feel for me. For all of us."

He shivered, almost proud that you managed to admit your confidence in his feelings toward you. He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in the same air as you while he matches the intimate moment with a whisper, "Exactly. I can't trust Alma with my family. I can only trust myself or you to take care of the four of us, to ensure we stick together."

You wet your lips when they felt dry, deciding to play into his dream for a little bit, "Suppose we did run away... where would we go?"

'Wherever we want! All of us,' he wanted to say the same thing he told Teylan down by the campfire, but he says it differently with you, "Anywhere, far away from here."

"Just the four of us?"

"The four of us," he confirms with a nod, thinking that he had you convinced, "We'll start our own clan. We'll renew the Sarentu."

"And what will happen when the war eventually finds us?"

Your question drives Nor to freeze, and so you continue, "Either Mercer, RDA, or TAP, it won't matter. They'll find us. You know they will."

He unfroze finally, huffing with determination, "Then we will fight."

"But if we fight now, and we win, then we can leave and we will never have to worry about the Sky People again," your hands moved until they were wrapped around Nor's waist, a bold move to match his own, his fingers still wrapped up in the hair on the back of your neck,

"We would never have to keep running or look over our shoulders ever again," you continue, "If we can end this sooner than later, I will go with you. I'll go wherever you want. But... But I can't leave now knowing what the Sky People are capable of. I can't leave knowing that there would be another child out there whose clan was wiped out and I wasn't brave enough to stop it from happening. I would never forgive myself."

Your words stun him into silence, and the intensity of his gaze causes you to feel shy and embarrassed, lowering your head to avoid him until his hands pause your movement. He gently uses his thumbs to push your chin to tilt back up, and when your eyes meet, he pauses for a moment, his intense eyes scanning your expression before his lips twitch up into a small, fond smile, "Heh."

"What?" You tilt your head, hesitant but smiling as well.

"Nothing. It's just... Aha'ri would be proud of you."

He says it so confidently that you know you believe him, and his words make your heart swell with pride and grief, missing your sister. Nor leans back and digs in the pocket of his pants, "I have something for you."

"What is it?"

He provides a carved stone, bearing the mark you both have on your face to signify your long-lost clan, "It's something to remind you of me, whenever you leave HQ and I cannot follow you. It's also a promise."

"What promise?"

"That if I ever leave, it will only be when you are ready to come with me," he leans back into your space, pressing your foreheads together once more as he closes his eyes, taking in your scent, "This time, my love, I go wherever you go."

You clutch the stone in your hand, wanting the carved mark to brand into your skin as you close your eyes as well. You already plan to tie Nor's stone into the songcord So'lek had given you, and you hope that in time, the songcord will grow, and there will be many more milestones to signify. Milestones that you hope that Nor and your friends will share with you, as Sarentu and as your family.

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[plumgyu]

More Than Convenience - Choi Soobin

(Soobin/Female Reader)

Warnings: Smut, Blowjob, Eating Out, Fingering, Praise Kink

You found yourself dreading each day at work. Hours and hours of dealing with nosy customers, restocking shelves, all while desperately trying to manage the infinite wrath of your boss, Mrs. Lee, proved exhausting to say the least. That was until a certain coworker joined your shift.

He was so tall it would scare you if not for his baby face. He wore a light grey pair of trousers, matched with a soft knit cardigan which accentuated his slim figure. His lips and eyes reminded you of that of a bunny’s, and his fluffy hair only further proved that fact. He wore a polite smile on his face, and even Mrs. Lee seemed to like him, grinning at him as if she were a proud mother. You scowled under your breath. Since when was she kind to anyone?

“Ah, yes… We are going to get so many customers because of you…” She muttered, and you now knew the reason why his presence brought her so much joy. Oh god, was he going to be one of those people who are stuck up simply due to the fact that they are pretty? Mrs. Lee called your name, gesturing towards you as to introduce you to him.

“This is the other worker in your shift, Mr. Choi. Please take the register for her whenever you are able, your good looks will boost my sales!” Did she have no shame…? He smiled awkwardly at this statement, fidgeting with his hands behind his back, showing that he was deeply uncomfortable. Regardless, you didn’t like him. Because of your manager’s decision, you would now be stuck hunched over on your back filling shelves with hundreds of products each day. Either way, you smiled at him, not wanting to make another enemy at work, since the woman in front of you clearly proved to be one.

“It’s nice to meet you. You can call me Soobin.” You were surprised to find that rather than Mrs. Lee, he was speaking to you, and you acknowledged his words with a small nod. You wouldn’t allow yourself to like him so easily. It was best to be cold so he knows how you felt about him. This guy would be forcing you to get scoliosis by the time a month had passed.

Your boss soon left the room, giving him a quick overview on how to use the cash register as she walked by, telling him to ask for your help if he ever needed. “Thanks for offering for me to give him a run-down on your policies, boss!” You wanted to say, but you knew better than to defy the one who kept food on your plate. With a quick shake of his hand, you and Soobin went on your separate ways, both tending to your individual positions.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

It had been a little over a month since your coworker joined, and to your utmost surprise, your back was still intact, although in pain. Speaking of Soobin, you soon learned that he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was, even though it was technically his presence which had reduced you to a shelf stocker. If he noticed you were tired, he’d offer to swap places until Mrs. Lee walked in and yelled at you for ‘ruining her sales,’ but you were perfectly good looking yourself, thank you very much. She’d apologize to Soobin for you stealing his position, as if he hadn’t offered to do it in the first place, patting him on the head, giving him a sorrowful look before glaring in your direction. What did this woman even have against you? The mere thought of these moments put an expression of pure annoyance on your face.

It was yet another day at work when, as to no one’s surprise, you were filling yet another shelf with chips. To your distaste, it happened to be the one shelf you couldn’t reach the top layer of, and there was no way in hell you were going to walk all the way to the supply closet for a single row of chips. Before you processed what you sounded like, the words escaped your lips.

“Soobin, could you help me reach the top shelf of this?” Oh shit. Without realizing it, you had reenacted word for word every drama’s cliche scene. But what were you supposed to do, especially when there was a human ladder right in the same room as you? His reaction was in every way similar to the movies you’d seen, and this weird fluttery feeling filled your chest.

He walked up to you, and without a word, his arms moved past your face as he essentially held the air around you to place every bag in its place. Your heart stopped. God, why were you feeling like this? You tried to shake off the thought, and the faint red tint on his ears as he walked away in silence, but it kept coming back like a song that just couldn’t get out of your head.

Finally, due to the disappointment of realizing that next you would have to carry dozens of gallons of milk into the fridge, your mind went elsewhere.

That is why, when work ended that day, it was a most pleasant surprise. As you made your way out, getting ready to close the shop, you saw a woman and her two children at the register, smiling red-faced at the sight of the cashier. With his assurance, she stacked a few more candies for the young boys next to her, increasing her bill by at least five dollars. “It pisses me off so much when Mrs. Lee is right…” You muttered, bothered by how pretty that man was and angry at the increased fortune of your boss, even if by a minuscule amount. You left the store that night scoffing in annoyance, both at your manager and at yourself for growing fond of the boy you worked with.

As you closed your eyes that night to sleep, you drifted off to a heavy dream.

His soft voice called out your name, equally soft hands brushing past your cheeks and onto your lips. His arms had you pinned against the shelves. He was pleading for your touch. You soon realized that you were in the situation you had found yourself in earlier, but with a few key changes. The primary one being that his mouth was now on yours. You ignored the obvious parallels to the day you had just had, engrossed into the moment and engulfed into the ocean which was his eyes. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you closer into his body, leaving a hot sensation between your legs. Before you knew it, you were moaning into the kiss, yearning for more of him, for all of him.

“Please,” You whined, not wanting him to stop anytime soon, but to your surprise and displeasure, before you was your older sister. Your expression immediately shifted to one of disgust, matching hers painted in judgement.

“Why the hell are you fucking your pillow?” She asked, and you had no response other than silence. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips formed a frown. And with that, she left your room, refusing to close the door solely to bother you. Looking at the time, you realized you should be heading to work soon, and you went on your way, both ashamed and shocked that you could even imagine such a thing.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

Many days passed, and given your newfound… desires, it only got harder and harder to look Soobin in the eyes. He himself didn’t help much either, as now rather than allowing you to walk all the way to get a stepping stool, he ever so kindly (to your utter horror) decided to help you with stocking the tall shelves at any chance he got. If he ever so much as saw you step towards the supply closet, he would grab your wrist, sending butterflies into your stomach, and bring you back over to the aisle all while holding your arm.

Suddenly, you understood why people dropped the entirety of their bank accounts at the sight of him, because lately more than ever, he was the prettiest thing to you. Not that he had changed physically, he still had the same elegant yet equally cute beauty to him, but your feelings about him certainly had. Whether you told yourself so or not, whether you brushed it off or not, deep down you secretly knew that you liked him.

One day, after waking up from another dream that left you with a pool between your legs, he, yet again, leaned over you to place items on the shelf above. But he wasn’t focusing on his hands, nor was he staring into space. He was gazing directly into your eyes, which soon turned to him looking at your soft lips. You clearly noticed this, as your face soon felt warm and you stumbled over your words.

“Are you… finished yet?” You asked, hoping that the multiple times your voice broke were subtle enough to ignore, flashing a sheepish grin in attempt to lighten the suddenly thick mood. This seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in, as his face flushed, apologizing for his actions, walking straight back to the cash register. The rest of the day, he seemed to be glancing in your direction, and based on his demeanor, he didn’t notice that you were staring back and had seen through his attempts to be discreet each and every time. Of course, you could never say this, because that would only reveal that you were looking at him too.

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

After what felt like an eternity, as if his presence in itself could slow down time, it was time for you to leave. Yet again, he was finishing up with the last customer, so you took the extra time to prepare the store for the next day. Mrs. Lee had already left hours ago, and she entrusted you to her keys not due to her belief in your abilities, but due to the fact that she couldn’t be bothered to do it herself. You waited at the door for Soobin to leave the room, not wanting to lock him in (which had already happened multiple times on accident). Finally, he stepped out of the door behind the person he had somehow managed to sell three dozen cartons of eggs to, shocked and impressed at both his ability to charm people and the customer’s strength to carry out a cart filled with so much food.

As he walked out to leave, avoiding your gaze with a face painted in a faint shade of pink, you suddenly had an urge to have him stay. And so you made him. You grabbed his wrist, as he often had at your feeble attempts to use a stepping stool instead of him, and mustered up all of your courage to speak.

“Soobin, wait,” You began, stumbling over every syllable as if each word were akin to running a marathon, “It’s late, so maybe we should eat here together…?”

He looked at you with an expression of obvious confusion, but there was something else in his eyes. He was flustered.

“Ah… But… Isn’t it the same time we always get off of work? I only made us a few minutes late with the eggs…” He questioned, and realizing your mistake, you flushed in embarrassment. Oh. Well, you probably should have thought about that sooner… You apologized, preparing to go off in your own direction, but now it was his turn to stop you from leaving, and he spoke yet again.

“Now that I think about it, I am kind of hungry… Let’s stay for a little?” He asked, ears a bright red by the time he finished talking. With nothing more than an excited nod, you followed him back in. At the corner of the shop lay a break room, lined with soft couches and coffee machines galore. Although it probably shouldn’t be called such, since it was practically Mrs. Lee’s office. If she caught anyone but her inside, she would threaten to fire them with an angry glare. You had hardly seen the entirety of it if not to report to her about some annoying customer asking for the person who ran the place. Now that you thought about it, that was probably the only work she actually did around here.

“I feel like I’m committing a crime by being in here,” Soobin muttered, and you laughed in agreement, an equally uncomfortable expression on your face. In your hands were two cups of spicy ramen, a chicken buried in peppers on the cover.

“Let’s see who stops to drink first,” You challenged, and he eagerly agreed.

“You’re on.” He joked, playing along with your game.

Pouring the hot water from the coffee machine into your noodles, it softened into a manageable texture. You took the first bite, pleasantly surprised. For a convenience store, it had pretty decent food. He obviously had a different opinion, as his face contorted in disgust both at the flavor and spice. At first you reveled in your victory, but as he was still suffering minutes later, you put down your chopsticks and ran to get him a cold drink. What was the best thing to use here…? Strawberry milk, you decided. Not that it was necessarily better than normal milk, but it had a picture of a bunny on it you couldn’t refuse.

You walked back to the room, only to find him still dying from heat, and quickly offered him a sip. You tried to ignore the way his face brushed past your hand as you fed him the drink, or the way his lips were somehow even cuter while around a straw.

“You know, you look like the bunny on this cup.” You said, before realizing what you were doing, and before you had time to undo your actions, he replied.

“Are you calling me cute, miss?” He teased, adding the last part solely to see your eyes dart around the room, searching for anything to look at but him. You were playfully annoyed at his words, but then you realized that you had to win anyways, so you gazed directly into his eyes.

“And what if I am?” You said simply, as if just making conversation. Clearly this worked on him, as his eyes widened in a manner which made him even more adorable than before, and it only made you want to fluster him more.

“Choi Soobin, what if I am calling you cute?” You reinstated your previous words, satisfied at the way his face had turned a soft pink at your words.

“I,” he began, trying to find a response, but his thoughts escaped his lips before an excuse could. “Can you kiss me?” This time it was your turn to be embarrassed. Such a bold request, coming from someone who knew you wouldn’t say no to them… No, he sounded hesitant, so it couldn’t be that. You knew you couldn’t say no to him.

Your expression told him everything he needed to know. You cupped his face in your hands, looking into his warm eyes, and to your surprise he pulled you into his lap. A soft squeak left your mouth, startled at his actions, but you soon grew to like the feeling of being surrounded by his body. Without wasting a second, you pressed your lips against his, enjoying the sweet taste of strawberry which remained. He held his arms around your waist tighter, as if you were so fragile you could disappear in a second, not letting go of the kiss for a moment. Realizing how far up his lap you were, he gasped against your mouth, but you only took this as an opportunity to feel his tongue against yours. Humming against his lips, you deepened the kiss, and he clearly enjoyed it as by the muffled whimper that you heard. This man was going to be the death of you.

Eventually you had to pull away to breathe, both panting for air. His lips were swollen and puffy from you sucking on them, and his eyes were filled with affection so deep it made your heart melt. And yet there was another emotion. Lust.

“More…” He whispered, face now buried into your neck. The sound of his voice was enough to make you insane. You pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“Soobin…” You replied, searching for something, anything to say with your mind in such a disheveled state. “I’m all yours. If you’ll be mine, too?” You nearly cringed at your own words before he immediately agreed, as if he had been waiting for this moment his entire life. Such sweet words were a stark contrast to the profanity of this situation. You sat in his lap, pressed firmly against the now hardened bulge in his pants.

“I wouldn’t want anything more." His words left a warm feeling in your heart, and an even warmer feeling between your legs. Within a moment, his mouth, once innocently resting on your shoulder, now latched itself onto the sensitive skin of your neck. You gasped in surprise, and before you could stop it, the feeling of his hot tongue led many not-so-innocent noises to escape your lips. Before, his name was said out of affection, and now, you were gasping it in desire. He left soft bites down your neck, his even softer breaths becoming something you could get addicted to.

Even so, it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. You needed more. You found yourself grinding against him, and his sharp whines told you he needed you just as badly.

“Can I touch you?” You asked, wanting to hear more of his sweet sounds. He nodded slightly while looking away in embarrassment, but you pulled him right back into a soft kiss. You found yourself missing the feeling of his mouth on your skin. Your hand was placed between his legs, palming him through his clothes, and the desperate moans that left his lips nearly made you lose all composure. His head found itself buried in your neck yet again, biting into your skin as if to hold him steady. You sloppily undressed him, leaving him half wearing his trousers, all while remaining in his lap.

“Open your mouth.” His lips parted, sucking on your fingers with a look in his eye that told you he wanted you more than anything. You pressed yet another soft kiss to his forehead, now moving your hand back down and slowly stroking his cock. The sound that escaped him was nothing short of heavenly. His moans grew louder as your fingers moved faster, and you stopped for a moment only to sit on the floor in front of him.

“Please…” Before you could even ask, he pleaded for you to taste him, and so you did. You kissed his tip, smiling at how it twitched at your slightest touch. Wanting to see how far you could take this teasing, you licked him up and down at an agonizingly slow pace. His whimpers grew more and more desperate before you finally gave in, taking him whole. He tasted slightly sweet, a mild but pleasant flavor. You loved it. You loved him. His length was too much to maintain this for too long, so you shifted to stroking one half of him with your hand and licking him on the other. This seemed to do it for him, as his moans grew louder, calling your name endlessly as if you were the only one he could love, softly tugging on your hair in desperation.

You increased your speed, longing to hear more of his shaky breaths, wanting to give him all of the pleasure in the world. He was clearly affected by this, as he began rutting his hips into you, chasing his climax. At once, you felt his warm cum fill your mouth, a taste you could hardly enjoy before his lips were on yours once again. This time, he shifted to you, yearning to make you feel as good as you did for him. He pulled you back onto the couch, knee pressed between your legs as he kissed you, rubbing against your sensitive clit and sending sweet waves of pleasure through your body. His teasing proved deadly, one look into his eyes and you could tell he wasn’t going to stop until he had eaten you whole.

He leaned over, guiding you to lay down, quickly undressing you, resting his head on your thigh. He looked into your eyes, as if asking for your consent, and you simply responded by pulling him into you. You were already wet, but once his tongue was between your legs your arousal became almost unbearable. His cute eyes looked up into yours, as if seeking your praise. If it were any situation but this one you would have found it utterly adorable, but now, all it did was turn you on more.

“Harder…” You muttered between shaky breaths and gasps. He looked as if he were drunk on the high of pleasing you, face buried between your legs, tongue licking up every last drop of you. You gasped at the feeling of his fingers now buried inside of you, curling into you. He hit your sensitive spot, and you threw your head back in pleasure. In noticing this, he repeated the action over and over again.

“Soobin-ah… More…” This simple plea only made him go faster, eating you out as if his life depended on it, replicating any action that seemed to make you feel better than the last. He was incredibly acute in your reactions, exploiting your weaknesses, bringing waves of pleasure through your body. Soon, you couldn’t take it anymore, telling him you were about to finish. A rush of warmth filled your body, and you felt nothing short of ecstasy as you climaxed. He eased you through it, slowly tasting you with his tongue, and licked his lips once he pulled away.

He looked into your eyes, and your face flushed in embarrassment, only to be met by him peppering soft kisses all over your face. He laid down with you, fixed your clothes and buttoned his own pants, wrapping his arms around your waist. His head fell onto your chest looking up into your eyes lovingly.

“Are you sure we can’t just sleep here…?” He asked, half teasing half serious, now tired as it was getting late. His eyelids grew heavy, and he nearly slept on top of you. You woke him up through pinching his soft cheek.

“Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are?”

“Not anyone that mattered. Until now, that is.”

—˚ʚ♡ɞ˚—

“What the actual hell are you two doing?!” The booming voice of your boss woke you with a start. You took a moment to analyze your surroundings, and by the sight of Soobin lying atop you, cute face buried in your chest, still somehow fast asleep, you knew you were thoroughly fucked.

You tapped his shoulder until he awoke, desperate to get him to help you come up with any explanation, but to no avail.

Well… at least you knew you wouldn’t be trusted to close shop anymore.

I hope you enjoyed reading! If you ever have any feedback at all I’m open to hear it ♡

(I mean, they technically did have dinner… just the dessert was each other)

[readychilledwine]

Death of Peace of Mind - Part 1

Summary - We all believe Eris has a cabin hidden in the Autumn woods that he keeps his mate in, but what if she wasn't there willingly?

Warnings - technically kidnapping, sighs of setting in Stockholm Syndrome, technically signs of abuse/neglect towards a partner, inferred smut

A/N - this part is fairly mild, but the ending should tell you all what's coming. This is a pretty big time jump between this part and the little preview *link coming soon.* at this point our "unnamed" oc has been trapped in Eris's cabin for 7 months now

Ps- do we think Eris and Lucien need their own foxboy dividers? (I low-key do)

Part two

*6 months into her entrapment*

Eris had left his mate alone in his cabin for a  month now. Warding her within the 20 foot radius he gave her for exploration. 

It had taken time to tame her. More time than he had wanted it to, but he still knew it was what was best for her. 

He leaned back in his chair, listening to the advisor his father was allowing to drag on speak about how they need to tax the lesser fae harder. It wasn't a sentiment he argued with despite his face showing neutrality towards the idea of continuing to rob the poor and hungry, but he knew better than to start an argument.

An argument would mean he'd be there longer, or have to deal with his father's wrath and whatever punishment he felt fit. Being quiet meant getting back to his mate sooner. It meant seeing if his isolation plan had worked sooner. And when it did, it meant in a few more hours, he'd be buried inside of her. 

-

She knew he was coming home soon and tucked her legs into her chest. The silence had been welcomed. Wanted even if she was honest with herself. But she was lonely. He'd left her with one hound instead of the usual 3, and not even a hound who wanted to be with her.

She was confused by him. Her body begging and pleading to bend to his every wish and want, to be his, but er mind screaming to run, to fight. Her heart stood tore in the middle. She'd always wanted a mate, she just have never wanted this isolation.

She jumped as the door opened and familiar claws ran across the wood floor rushing to come greet her. She turned to pet little fluffy heads, one hound in each hand as he took off his jacket and shoes.

"You told me it'd only be a few days," her heart tightened. "You were gone for a month."

Eris quickly hid the tugging smile. "Did you miss me then?"

"No." Yes. She realized she had answered too quickly. His brow raised indicated he didn't believe her. And who could blame him when she didn't believe herself. "It just isn't something a proper mate would do." 

Eris felt his shoulders grow stiff, his head turned to the side slightly as if he were assessing her. "So a month of loneliness is all it took for you to acknowledge the bond? To acknowledge you are mine?"

She felt the weight of his questions hit her. That had been his plan all along, to force loneliness so deep it cut through her sanity. He moved to her, hands falling to her hips and gripping tightly. He was waiting for an answer. "Speak, fox." He said to her, "Tell me of your nights without my body and magic keeping the sheets warm, of how cold the cabin grew without me keeping the fires lit. Tell me how desperate you were for me. For my touch."

His gaze was serpentine. Staring her down as if she were no more than a wounded animal. "I didn't mean it that way," her voice was weak.

"You know better than to lie, little fox," one hand moved up her body. "Now greet me like a proper mate who missed her other half." She shook her head, refusing to give him that one carnal desire. Eris clicked his tongue. "Maybe I was mistaken in thinking you were ready for time apart. I thought we were past this." His hands on her hips grew tighter and warmer. She felt her lip tremble. "Do you need a reminder of who this body belongs to? Of who makes it sing?" His right hand moved up her body. "Not a single day went by where I did not miss and think of you. Of the good girl I left at home."

His words were a soft confession and opening. His Amber eyes met her doe ones. The offer shining brightly. If she gave him this one thing, he would be gentle with her tonight. "Well, little love," his hand tilted her face to his. "Will you give me a welcome home kiss?"

Her mind screamed for her to fight longer, to fight more. Her heart begged to cave to this new gentleness he was offering. Her body screamed for it as well. It screamed to be reunited with her mate, despite his isolation methods, despite his cruelty.

She caved, hands finding his chest, her soul, and heart, singing from finally having contact and socialization again. She began kissing him deeply despite the dimming protests in her mind.

-

Eris knew of her independence when he ripped her from her parents home. He had begun to use it as a reward against her.

If she behaved, he allowed her a taste of freedom, of what they would have when his father was gone. And last night had behaved beautifully. 

She had allowed him to take her, the way he truly wanted, with soft caresses and whispered words of adoration and worship. She had cried and begged for him as if he was her savior and salvation all in one. 

So today, he took her to Spring. Allowing her to explore the once destroyed but now flourishing market.

"Good girls get rewards," he had murmured into her naked skin as he took her again this morning. 

He didn't even notice her plotting. He only finally noticed when they had reached an area that was more lively than others and she was no longer at his side. 

But if she wanted a game of chase, if she wanted to ruin this beautiful day the two of them were having. He was more than happy to oblige and trap her back in that cabin until she understood one simple fact.

She wasn't going to go home. 

-

Her heart was racing as she pulled the scarf further over her hair and weaved between bodies. 

She didn't bother looking at anyone. Didn't return their joyful good mornings. She had to focus on her escape. On crossing that border into Autumn and getting home.

She quickly made it to that odd edge between courts, were bright green grass contrasted deep golden orange and burning red hues. 

She took off running when the bond warned her he was close. Her home was a 3 days journey by horseback from Spring. She had no clue if she'd make it there, or how long it could take, but this kiss of freedom was worth it.

She was near the cabin when nightfall came giving away to cold air. She was starving, exhausted, and her body felt as if she had been laying on hot pokers all day.

Every step to keep herself warm was tedious as her legs grew heavier. Every rustle of leaves had her on edge.

She stood at the small clearing, knowing a right would take her back to the cabin, to somewhere safe and warm. A left would take her towards the border of Winter. Continuing straight would take her home. 

She knew these woods weren't safe. That she was not safe. I was safe in the cabin, her mind whispered. He may be cruel, but I was always safe.

-

Eris watched her from up in the trees unknown to her. He had found her hours ago with the 9 hounds that were also stalking her like prey. 

One of them paused, ears folding back and his body going low to the ground as he growled. Eris smelled the beast before he heard it or saw in. He gave the signal for his hounds to hold and waited, a bow and arrow notched. 

Soulless black eyes stared at his mate, long claws emerged from its hands as it stalked around her and she stood there frozen in fear. "The dark mother has brought me a blessing," the creature hissed to her. "A treat wandering into the forest all by herself." 

Eris kept his arrow lined and true with the beast but never released it. The hounds were growing restless, itching to destroy the monster, threatening the female they considered their mother. She didn't even move as it raised a clawed hand to brush her cheek, only whimpered out of fear. "Your screams will be delicious." 

It's other clawed hand raised and Eris took the opening, shooting the beast in the ribs and heart before it could harm his little mate and giving the hounds the signal to attack.

He jumped down, and she looked at him, eyes welled with tears before running into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she kept whispering. "I'm so sorry. Take me home. Please. Please don't make me stay out here." 

Eris put her at an arm's length, faking a look of indifference. "I offered you my love, my safety, my protection. I gave you a treat for your good behavior, and you repay me by running away?" Her lips trembled as her tears fell faster. "You truly expect me to take you back to the cabin you seem to hate so much?" He whistled for his hounds, signaling them to stop the attack and head home. "Why shouldn't I leave you in these woods, alone and cold?"

Her body shook with sobs. "Eris please. I'm so scared."

"And you could have been home safe. If you would have played your part, had you been a good little mate. A night out here would be the consequences of your own actions." 

A whimper ripped through her. "I'll give you anything, please. Please take me back."

Eris cocked his head at her, "Anything?" He purred in delight. Holding his hand out. "If I bring you home, you never run again, you will serve me a meal, and you will move into my chambers when I place as high lord with no further arguments."

It was a slap in the face. Her mind was reeling instantly, pleading with her to just leave. To turn towards winter, to turn towards anywhere and leave. "You can shake my hand and seal the bargain, or you can stay in these woods. Cold, afraid, and alone. Thousands of females would slaughter each other with no hesitation for your spot at my side."

The mating bond growled in possession inside of her, her heart shattered at the idea of him with someone else. Her body moved on its own choice, her hand slowly raising and holding his. 

Eris growled in satisfaction. "I expect my dinner tomorrow night, little fox." He picked her up, warming her freezing body with his own as he walked to the cabin. "Let's get you inside and safe."

-

He tucked her naked body into the bed. Warming the sheets to fight the chill that had sunk into her bones. She was covered in evidence of his love for her. He grinned with male satisfaction before moving to the living room and checking over the 9 sleeping hounds who had been treated to her love and treats. 

He walked out of the door, whistling three times for the last three to come in. They jogged to the door happily, little scraps of her clothing still attached to their collars. He took the clothing off of them, throwing it into the hearth where the rest of the dress had burned early, and he patted them each gently.

"Good hounds," he spoke softly. "You lead it straight to her."

[weirdmorefics]

Hiya, could you do a Aziraphale x Demon!Reader x Crowley (if that's alright with you) where it's the end of season 2 and the reader is arguing with Aziraphale because he's leaving and Crowley is just standing behind them still trying to comprehend what's happening, but because the reader is a demon they have never cried not once in their life so they start breaking down (ugly crying) and it pisses of Crowley seeing reader cry like that, hope this request is alright can change it it you want to x

A/n- Oh my goodness love this request I am a sucker for angst

AO3, Etsy Shop, Youtube,

TW- Major sadness

Reader's Pronouns- They/Them

Word Count- 978

Nothing Lasts Forever

Crowley x Reader x Aziraphale

Y/n anxiously plays with their hands waiting for Aziraphale to return, "Do you think he's safe with Metatron?"

"I am sure he will be fine. As much as we love to save our dear angel and mock him mercilessly, he's been protecting himself for eons," Crowley replies confidently.

Despite Crowley's confident words his face does not appear to match. He places Y/n's hands in his own and does not speak a word about it.

After sitting in silence for a long time, just the two of them ruminating on their own thoughts, a bell rings. Y/n stands up speedily and Crowley is quick to follow. Y/n moves closer to Aziraphale to check if any harm has been done but he has the widest grin on his face so the pair doubt he is injured.

"What did he want," Y/n asks fearing the answer.

"With Micheal being gone... there is a space. He wants me to be an archangel," Aziraphale beams with shock and joy.

Y/n is frozen in shock and Crowley steps closer, "He said what?"

"He said I could appoint you both to be angels! Come back to heaven and-and everything!" He uncharacteristically stutters due to the pure amount of joy. "Like old times probably even nicer!"

Y/n clenches their fist and gulps loudly even though they don't technically need to as a celestial being it just seemed like the situation desperately called for it.

Crowley went straight to anger, "And you told him where he can stick it? Oh, we're better than that! You're better than that, Angel! You don't need them! Y/n and I certainly don't need them! They ask Y/n and I back to Hell! We said no! I am certainly not going back to their team! Neither should you!"

"You two obviously said not to Hell, they're the bad guys," Aziraphale states surely. "Heaven is the side of truth, light, of good," he lists confused as to what Crowley is not getting.

If I could throw up I think I would. If Hell loves punishment so much you think they would make vomiting a must because it looks really painful when humans do it. Again maybe they wouldn't do that because vomiting is a way of cleansing your stomach and they are very against that.

"When Heaven ends all life on earth all humanity will be just as dead as if Hell did it," Crowley states. "Tell me you said no," Crowley says each word as if it were the end of a sentence.

Aziraphale does not respond and I am finally able to push words out of my mouth, "You did say no Azirapahle... right?"

"If I am in charge I can make a difference," he looks into Y/n's eyes with pity.

Y/n eyes have an unfamiliar feeling, they feel wet and sting.

Crowley starts to pace, "Oh god, oh, I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say. I better say it now. Right okay. We are a team a group of us, we have known each other a long time, we all rely on each other. I would like us to- I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it. Go off with each other, then we three can! Just the three of us! We don't need Heaven we don't need Hell. They are toxic! We need be away from them and just be us," he looks between the two of us.

The unfamiliar feeling in y/n's eyes spreads leaving a trail of wetness down their cheek. The wetness keeps spreading they can feel several different lines of water down my face.

Aziraphale runs up to Crowley, "Come with me to Heaven I'll run it the best and you will be my second in command! We can make a difference!"

Y/n bites her lip harshly, " What about the bookshop? What about humanity? The new food inventions you will miss out on? What about our life here!"

The two look at Y/n oddly and the new feeling in them makes them clench their eyes tight and gasp. Y/n wipes their hand across their face and looks down at the wetness in their hands. The wetness won't stop streaming down my face. This isn't right. I shouldn't be able to cry. I shouldn't feel this deeply. Nevertheless, I can't stop the water in my eyes and can't stop gasping for air that I don't even need.

Aziraphale looks at me in a way he never has before. It's the gaze humans give their offspring when they first realize the world is unfair and unjust.

"Oh Y/n, nothing lasts forever," Aziraphale says regretfully.

Y/n puts their palm to their chest and gasps, "Oh."

Crowley looks at Aziraphale with disgust, "That's how it is... good luck then."

Y/n looks up at Crowley vision blurry with newfound tears and Crowley looks back mournfully. Crowley throws his arm around Y/n's shoulder and starts to escort them out the door.

"Good luck?' Aziraphale gasps. "I don't think you know what I am offering the two of you!"

"I think the two of us know better than you do," Crowley snaps back.

Aziarphale tries to negotiate with Y/n, "Y/n, please you are supposed to be the reasonable one out of the two of you! You are no demon you are crying!"

Crowley's jaw tightens and Y/n clenches their fists harder than they have in their entire long life.

Y/n can barely gasp out, "You hear that?"

Aziraphale shakes his head rapidly, "I hear nothing!"

"Exactly, no nightingales," Y/n gasps again.

"You idiot! We could have been something! Just the three us," Crowley shouts as he leads Y/n out the door leaving a stunned and a little bit broken Aziraphale.

[faeryarchives]

HEAR ME OUT SNDJSNJSNSJ

Jamil having a crush on yuu/reader and azul have a crush on her too. The two are rivals for yuu/reader's heart but when they finally confessed, reader/yuu reveals that she's already engage to someone back in her world

I'm craving angst

-ladybuganon🐞

And Nothing More (Jamil Viper & Azul Ashengrotto x Fem!Reader)

remarks: I HEAR U LADY BUG ANON YOU ARE ON TO SOMETHING 😍🖋️ oh my god i don't know if i should laugh or cry in that situation 😭 + I DIDN'T SEE THE ANGST IT CAME OUT AS SOMEWHAT CRACK 😔 i hope u still enjoy it notes: very long around 2.3k words 😭

"Ah, I should've asked for Silver to help me..." You sniffled, mourning over the fact that you could've saved yourself from trouble if you just accepted Silver's help. You were having some difficulty in supporting the boxes in your arms, afraid something might fall out until someone came to your rescue by lifting two of the three boxes in your hold.

"Prefect, let me help you carry that."

"Oh, Jamil! It's fine I can carry it on my own!" After all, you were just a five-minute walk away from your dorm, you would've taken his offer if it weren't for the situation.

Before you could get your things back, Jamil turned the other way and smiled at you. "No, I insist. And I am not going to take no for an answer." Without having any other choice, you threw your hands in the air in defeat.

Well, good company is better than nothing. "All right! You always show up unexpectedly." You said to the vice dorm leader as you both walked down the trail sharing a few small talks.

"You know, sometimes you are very talented and amazing at your work but do take some break." For a moment, Jamil seemed to freeze up, his ears turning reddish.

"Speaking of breaks, do you have some free time now, Prefect?"

"Right now?" You pondered for a second before shaking your head lightly. "I just need to clean up the dorm and unpack all the boxes with Grim."

Seeing this as a chance, Jamil suddenly stopped walking to put his free hand on your shoulder. "Well then, can you-"

"Well, what a coincidence! The Prefect is here!" A figure suddenly appeared a few feet ahead of you. "Oh, and Jamil-san is here too." Seeing the mafia-like get up along with that smooth voice - you immediately recognized the Octavinelle Dorm Leader twirling his staff around as he approached you and Jamil.

'Technically it's not a coincidence when it is the road to my dorm...'

"Prefect, can I ask for a bit of your time? It involves something with Monstro Lounge, I believe you mentioned to Jade that you were once an accounting student."

"Well... you see the thing is-"

"Azul, she is coming with me, we already have plans." You blinked in confusion, eyebrows furrowing in wonder - you two have plans?

"(Name), would you like to have a cup of tea with me instead?"

"(Name) aren't you tired from carrying all of these? Do you want me to help you unpack?" There was like an invisible air of tension around the two sending chills down your spine. While they talk as if they are trying to persuade you to join either of them - they are more focused on each other and trying to get the upper hand.

As they continued to bicker on, you took it as a chance to run towards the gate of your precious dorm and coughed to catch their attention. "Oh, would you look at that! I am already at home. How could time fly that fast?! Thank you for helping me, you guys!"

"But Azul didn't do anything..." Jamil whispered, sending the merman a glare which he just ignored. 

"I am grateful to you guys really but I think I hear Grim crying for help. See you guys when I see you!" Not even letting them get a word in, you had already slammed the door shut leaving the two outside - finally taking off their facade.

"Azul, I was here first."

"Well, Jamil, unfortunately for you but I believe there is a saying with us merfolks that..." Azul paused, pushing up his glasses before tapping the tip of his staff on Jamil's chest. The knowing smirk on the other's face made the vice dorm leader very, very, very annoyed.

"All is fair in love and war. May the best one win."

"You better wish you never challenged me."

___________________________________________

"Prefect, I want to give you this." Out of the blue on a normal Monday morning, Jamil approached you with a wrapped lunch box in hand - giving it to you directly despite your friends watching.

"Oh? What is this for?" You took the box and stared at it in wonder. Did something good happen to him or something?

"I accidentally made an extra lunch for me and Kalim, so I thought I should give it to you instead."

"Is that so? You always look out for me. Thank you, Jamil." Seeing you smile and take the box sent the butterflies in his stomach in haywire. If Azul wants a fair fight, then a fair fight it is.

Unfortunately, you didn't get to eat it. The food looks wonderful and delicious really! You glance at Grim who was having the time of his life eating the food in your place.

"Jamil is good at cooking! You sure you don't want to take a bite, henchman?"

"It's okay, it's all yours. I am allergic to (food) anyway..."

___________________________________________

Another time, instead of Jamil, you find Azul in his place - the businessman-like smile of him never fading. "Prefect, please take this as a token of our friendship." He then handed you a small box. With curiosity getting the best of you - you open the box and, inside you can see a bracelet made out of (birthstone).

"What a lovely gift, I am afraid this is too much for such a token of friendship?"

"Nonsense! You deserve even better than that, if I may say." Holding the bracelet in hand, Azul took it as a chance to put it on you himself.

"... you know I might take this the wrong way."

"Then what if I want you to take it in that way?" You both shared a glance - one being confused and distraught while the other being a gentle and calm gaze. "I think I should go, I promised Jack I would help him out in taking care of his plants." Not letting him say another word, you quickly put the gift in the box and took it with you, and Azul took it as a sign that he might have a chance!

Just wait, Jamil. He will emerge as the victorious one in this war.

___________________________________________

"Oh, Grim, do you know what (Name) likes the most?"

"Not going to lie, the gifts on your doorstep are enticing sure but a mountain of them?!"

"I tried warning those two about that thing but they wouldn't listen at all..."

"Epel, have you seen the prefect? I have something to ask of her."

___________________________________________

"Ha..." You could already feel an upcoming headache as you find yourself leaning on the table inside the Ramshackle Dorm to avoid a certain octopus and snake duo. "This is a disaster... why are you guys hiding with me?" Glancing to the side, you could see your friends huddled in a circle as if attempting to hide themselves like you.

Grim has his paws covering his ears, closing his eyes shut. "Every time those two are around they are like cats going 'nya nya nya' for your attention!"

"Okay, watching it for the first time was funny but low-key, it's getting kinda annoying!" Ace slammed his fist on the ground, clearly distraught, and honestly, you couldn't blame him!

Deuce nodded his head in agreement, his eyes were heavy and unfocused. "Agreed, it's always scary how they are always at the right moment whenever you need something..."

"Well, I was about to ask you something but got roped in all this. What are you guys even hiding from?" Jack asked, totally confused and clueless about everything.

"I might as well hear Azul-senpai and Jamil-senpai's voices in my head." Poor Epel looked so horrified, remembering how whenever you weren't around - the two-second years seemed to find him as the person who knows your location best and thus always asking for you.

"I was with Jack too! Are you having some troubles, Big Sister (Name)?" The ever-so-curious Ortho asked while flying around you.

All of you then turn to Sebek, who stands proudly with his arms crossed. "These humans told me you were in trouble so I tagged along!" He stared at your group before sitting next to Epel, looking somewhat worried.

"What is going on anyway? You looked troubled by something."

You heave a heavy sigh, burying your head into your knees. "...Okay, I might sound arrogant, but I think Azul and Jamil are trying to fight for me?" That came out more like a question rather than an answer.

"So, what is the problem?"

"That is the problem itself, Jack!" You whined, stomping your foot to the ground, letting out the stress you felt for the entire month. "Maybe it's not my fault for clarifying things, but I genuinely didn't think it would get to this point." Your voice got softer and softer until it was barely a whisper while you played with the ring hanging around your necklace.

"What do I do..." Everything then fell into silence, trying to think of different ways to help you in this situation.

"Then shouldn't you confront them with the problem?" Sebek said as if it was the most common thing in the world, breaking the silence as he met your gaze. "They wouldn't know that they are doing something wrong when you don't talk it out."

"... holy shit. Sebek said something smart."

"Isn't that just common sense?" Jack immediately replied - an invisible arrow going through you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim at the realization.

"You know I should hang out with you and Sebek instead. Being with Ace and Deuce is making me dumb..."

"Hey!" A sudden knock on the door earned a collective sigh from most of you, not wanting to open the door until you heard people casting magic spells outside followed by a boom. "Okay, that's it." The boys watched as you stood up and made a mad dash to the second floor - only to come back down after a second, holding a broom in one hand in a threatening way.

"(Name), what are you-" You just went passed through your friends and went straight for the door, opening it wide enough to see what was happening outside.

"Who dares to fight on my dorm grounds?!" On cue, the suspects behind the chaos finally revealed themselves -Azul and Jamilm having their wands pointing at each other while holding one box under their arm.

"I thought it is all fair in love and war?"

"Not when you are doing underhand tricks!"

"Just the people I want to see..." Seeing them still bickering among themselves, you took it as a chance to sneak behind them and hit them with the broom, hard enough to send them to the ground.

"(NAME)!" They simultaneously cried out, holding the back of their heads in pain but most importantly the looks of betrayal and confusion can be seen on their faces. You crossed your arms in front of your chest before glaring at them, trying to look menacingly, which worked in your favor.

"Now you two are finally listening to me. Tell me, what are you doing here, destroying my dorm?"

"Well I was about to ask you something very important when Jamil..." Cue Azul sending Jamil an annoyed glare, "...rudely interrupted me!"

"Azul, you sabotaged my timing by sending the twin eels to Scarabia. Don't you think I wouldn't notice?" Before they could go on, a swift swish and the broom, you were previously holding, cut the air between the two - almost seeing their lives flash before their eyes.

"Before anything else happens, let me make this clear. I do not have feelings for the two of you other than it being platonic, and it will stay that way." Despite immediately dropping the bomb, you didn't let them get a word in and continued. "And honestly, rather than focusing on the goal - you see it as a competition. You see people's feelings as an irrelevant variable in your game. That is not right at all." After talking, it seemed like it finally dawned on the second years the things you just pointed out and lost their will to argue.

Azul lowered his head, putting his hand over his chest as he bowed apologetically. "... I am deeply ashamed of myself. I apologize for making you feel that way." You could hear his voice wavering at some point. Little did you know, this man has never let anyone in his comfort zone before so hearing you say some cruel yet realistic words broke him away from dream to reality.

Seeing the prideful dorm leader yield, Jamil took a deep breath before doing the same - not expecting to have lowered his head again, to ask for forgiveness for his mistake. "I apologize as well if I came to upfront and ignorant in my attempt to court you. But may I ask one question?" He lifted his head to see you surprised, causing him to be taken aback as well.

"Of course, what is it?"

"Will you give us another chance to court you in the right way?" 

"That is not possible." Ace's voice rang out to the dorm, as your friend group stood by the door looking very displeased. Deuce started walking towards your small group until he was standing next to you, holding an arm out to separate you from the duo. 

"Deuce?"

"Don't tell me..."

"I tried telling you both before but you wouldn't listen. (Nickname) won't give you another chance because..." The first year pointed at the ring around your necklace, the one you never fail to wear every day. "My fiance is waiting for me in my own world." You mumbled, holding on to the ring your lover gave you before getting teleported here in twisted wonderland.

"That is why the only thing I can offer you guys is friendship - nothing more."