#slow burn

[pricefieldsuperiority]

Yearning Allegations

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?

Paige Bueckers was your best friend.

She was also one of the most popular players on the Uconn Huskies.

Although many loved her, none of them knew her like you did. Most certainly, none of them loved her like you did.

You had known her since the first year of high school, where you two hit it off in English class, teasing her about how slowly she read. She had just shot some stupid comment back at you, and from then on, you two were inseparable - which is why you were sitting courtside at this very moment, happily watching her play.

"And that's time, another win for Uconn!!"

The announcer shouted loud as Paige threw the basketball at the last second, arcing perfectly into the net. She beamed wide as she turned around, her cheeks pink with pride, scanning the crowd for you. Her eyes seemed to shine a little brighter, or so you thought, upon landing on you.

She grinned in your direction, nodding slightly at you, as she ran past you to congratulate her teammates. They tackled her, nearly knocking her over. The crowd's roar was racious in your ears, their shouts nearly as loud as yours. Uconn had won again. You smiled to yourself, Paige was gonna be absolutely insufferable after this. She always was after games like these.

You waited patiently outside the change rooms, scrolling mindlessly on tiktok, waiting for Paige to finish up. Usually, she stayed a few extra minutes afterward, yapping with the team about whatever, and then would come out with KK, jokingly bickering about some nonsense. You hadn't been waiting more than 5 minutes when Paige came bounding out alone, grinning proudly. You grinned back, amused. She was like a 6 ft tall puppy.

"Yooo y/n, did you see me out there??!" Paige threw her arm around you as you guys started the familiar walk to her dorm. After wins, she'd refuse to let you get any work done so you didn't even bother going back to your dorm at this point.

"Yeah, I saw!!" You say, unable to stop yourself from smiling back. Paige's smile was genuinely infectious.

"Dude, I'm the best hooper at Uconn for reallll hahah." Her laughter echos around the hallway.

You roll your eyes and pat the hand she has draped over your shoulder.

"Ehhhh, I think you're alright"

Paige scoffs at you, eyebrows raised.

"Come on, just alright?? You love me, don't lie. " Her eyes are alight with happiness and you fight the corners of your mouth, looking away.

"That play at the end was eh, I've seen better"

Paige rolls her eyes, scoffing yet again before holding the door open for you, leaning against it.

"You're a terrible liar y/n"

Before you can reply, Paige ruffles your hair, and you bat her hand away, complaining. She grabs your hand, and you bodycheck her, but to no avail, cause she takes off running to her dorm just to annoy you on purpose. But you laugh anyway, cause it's so typical Paige.

---

It's only a few days later when you find yourself at an infamous Uconn house party, and the alcohol in your system is making your cheeks feel warm. Your red solo cup of vodka is half empty, and you peer at it, wondering if you should leave your comfy spot on the kitchen counter.

You're admiring Paige from across the room, watching her talk to some fans.

She looks hot as hell tonight, dressed in a black cropped tank top and low waisted baggy black cargo pants. Her middriff is on display, and a tiny bit of her boxers peak out. For a second you wonder about what'd it feel like to put your hands there but you force yourself to stop thinking about her, nails digging into your palms as you take another sip of your drink.

Your feelings for Paige had only intensified over the years, becoming harder and harder to ignore as you two got older. In high school, you could just explain it all away because she was your best friend, but now? You guys had only become closer since starting at Uconn, and these days resisting the urge to make a move was becoming nearly unbearable, especially with the looming fact that everyone and their mother wanted Paige.

Normally, you'd just go over to her and yap her ear off, but the amount of alcohol you've had tonight makes you feel like being around her might be a bit dangerous.

So instead, you just stare from afar, watching her put her arm around the girl who's exclaiming she's "her biggest fan." You roll your eyes, inner monologue already snarkly thinking that Paige gets told that at least once a day.

You're so engrossed in watching Paige take pictures- she's now laughing with the fan over some stupid joke- that you don't notice KK's slid over to you.

"Damn girl, you really ain't beating the yearning allegations huh"

Her voice shocks you out of your reverie, and you glance over at her.

"Huh!?? What do you mean-"

KK's eyes are knowing, and she just raises one brow as she pours herself a new drink.

"Boo, we all see the way you look at her"

You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool. Although you're pretty sure the whole team already knows how you feel, you still refuse to admit it cause what if that got back to Paige? You want her, but not more than your friendship. You could never forgive yourself if something happened to you two. You resist the urge to do anything about how you feel solely to protect your friendship.. but also because you're scared. What if she doesn't like you like that? It'd probably just make everything awkward anyway.

"I don't know what you're talking about- Paige's just my friend." You keep your voice steady, but your expression darkens as you see the girl is STILL talking to Paige, her hand lingering on Paige's waist as she draws back from a hug.

"Uh huh.. whatever you say, " KK says, leaving the kitchen with her refill.

A few minutes later, you're busy answering some texts when Paige comes over.

"Hey, KK told me you're being all edgy and hiding out in the kitchen instead of having fun at the party. You're scaring off the hoes, dude. "

Paige is always more affectionate than normal when she's drunk, and tonight is no different. She places her hand on your thigh, grinning as she peers at your face, and you look at her for a few seconds before you move off the counter to stand.

"I'm not hiding, I was dancing a bit ago I just got tired-" This is technically not a lie, considering you did dance for a few minutes before deciding to become the next Joe Goldberg.

"Rightttt..." Paige towers over you, an annoying fact that hasn't changed since high school.

You're about to reply with some smart ass answer when some girl walks into the kitchen, cup in hand, her jaw dropping open as she spots Paige.

"Oh my God, Paige Bueckers?!?" The girl's voice raises practically 3 octaves, and you feel so annoyed you resist the urge to just sigh at the sight.

"I love you so much! I was watching you the other day - that final score was so good you really clutched the game-" The girl gushes, her hand resting on Paige's arm. Paige is, of course, grinning broadly. She loves the attention - and you can practically feel a headache coming on from the sound of the girl's voice.

"My head hurts real bad, gonna go back to my dorm-" You murmur as you pass Paige to leave.

"Oh, are you okay?" Her attention is momentarily distracted by your leave, and you try to inject some pep into your voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

---

Authors note: Hope yall don't mind a slowburn! Thought it'd be cute to make a short series <3

Part 2 here

[purposechef]

mornings, part ii

[theblue6ook]

A Mundane Day

Summary: Is it ever really mundane office life as Bruce Wayne’s assistant? Bruce saves Y/N’s brothers from suspension.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Hello, hello. I hope everyone enjoys this fic. If I forgot to add you to the tag list please let me know! Enjoy :) [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

It was 3 pm. Bruce stretched, rising from his desk chair, with a groan. If he was lucky, he could take a nap before his night shift. Glancing at his desk, he sighed at the files there. A mix of his cases with Bane and Wayne Enterprise documents. He felt like groaning as he sorted them out and threw his case files into his briefcase. Pulling the Wayne Enterprise documents into a stack, he slipped a paperclip at the top to secure it.

It had been a relatively boring day. There weren't many meetings or executives to debate with, just lots of paperwork. Everyone was getting ready for the next quarter, and the files were coming in hot. Not to mention, he and Y/N hadn’t been the most comfortable around each other. After her broken engagement and falling asleep in each other's arms, it was like walking on eggshells. No one knew where the other stood, and Y/N had just become single. Bruce didn’t want to be that guy. So, they were lightly stepping around each other, waiting for the other to crack.

It sounds so immature or superficial to think about with everything else going on in his life. Paperwork, cases, and patrol, and here he is worrying about how to interact with a girl. How old is he, fifteen? But still, he couldn't help himself but think back to her body. How it molded against his, pressed chest to chest, with knees knocking. The sweats she wore still smell like her. It made him want to dunk himself in cold water. Tell himself to forget it. After what happened to Rachel, he knew he shouldn't. She barely made it away from him with her life, and she was lucky all she got was feargassed. Y/N deserved better than that.

Stepping out of his office and into Y/N's. She sat quietly at her desk with her blue light glasses tucked into her hair, knawing on a red pen. She was in intense focus. He silently handed her his stack of files, and she quietly mumbled a thank you, still focused on the work in front of her. Bruce moved to the coat rack to slip on his jacket with mild difficulty. Last night, he tried following one of Bane's freighter trucks. It had not gone well for him.

Finally, he shrugged the coat on in one motion, trying to minimize the pain as much as he could, while hoping to appear as normal as possible. Y/N glanced up at him as he prepared to leave, but once he shrugged his coat on, his button-down shirt slipped forward, and a bruise appeared bright and uncovered. 

The bruise was a bright, ugly purple that took up a large chunk of his collarbone and peck. Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, Bruce."

Bruce smiled lightly, playfully rolling his eyes. She used his first name. It never happened much unless she was either outstandingly pleased or uncomfortably serious. Bruce loved it and would take it either way, especially since it broke the silence. 

Y/N rounded the desk in a flash and took him by the collar. She pulled his face down to her level, trying to get a good view of the bruise. Bruce again rolled his eyes, trying to act like it was no big deal. Slowly, he worked to pull away, but she manhandled him, pulling him back down harder, popping the top button on his shirt. He tried to act oblivious, "Y/N, what are you doing? You know, if anyone else did this, it would be harassment." 

Y/N watched the bruise silently, with her brows furrowed. She looked over the top of his shoulder down to his peck. Without thinking ahead, she stuck out her hand and placed her cold palm on his warm chest. He tensed. At the temperature or her touch, she wasn't sure, but she smoothed her hand over the bruise. It was like ink had stained his skin. She looked up at him, frowning. He was closer than she thought, her nose almost hitting his chin. "What is this?"

“A bruise,” he stated plainly. Her eyebrow rose, and Bruce sighed, “I’ve been spelunking.”

“Spelunking?” she said quickly, “What is spelunking?”

“A rich man's sport.”

“Mr.Wayne-”

“It’s cave exploration,” he admitted, smirking down at her. 

“If people belonged in caves, they would be there,” she was interrupted by a harsh ring. Pausing, she looked up at him once more, “This conversation is not over. You stay there.”

He thought about making his exit, but she would no doubt follow him whether she was on the phone, or not.

She cleared her throat, “Bruce Wayne’s office this is Y/N… Yes, this is she… What? You’re kidding… Yes, yes I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can… Okay, thank you.”

Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. She moved on quickly, though, shoving files in her bag. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Bruce raised his eyebrow at her, and she looked over her shoulder at him, “My brothers are in the principal's office. I have to go pick them up and talk to the office about it. If I leave now, I can catch the bus-”

"I can drive you-"

"That's really not necessary-"

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. Come on." He walked out of their office with a swagger, as if she didn't just catch the bruise on his collarbone and she really had no choice but to follow him. 

"Didn't Alfred drop you off?" she called after him, "I don't want to bother him."

"No," he laughed, "I can drive myself, you know."

They took the elevator down to the garage, and in his own personal spot was a four-seat, scissor-door Gordan Murray. Y/N had only heard about this car. It was over two million dollars, in a sparkling black that reflected blue in the sun. Oh, she wanted to drive that car.

He looked behind him and flipped her door open, "You getting in?"

She didn't know what to do but laugh. Come on he mumbled grabbing her bag and slipping it in the back before she got in the car. He closed it behind her like a gentleman. The interior was a mix of black and white leather. The seats were peak comfort and she wondered if this was what heaven was like.

The car rode like a beauty and they sat in blissful silence for some time. She saw Bruce glancing at her every now and then, curiously. She finally said, “What’s up?”

Truth be told, he was observing her. He needed to see if he had crossed a line when he pulled her into his arms. All he wanted to do was blurt out did I make you uncomfortable? Would you do it again? But everything in his head told him it would only lead to disaster, so he opted to ask a different question. “Two brothers then?”

“Two brothers in trouble,” she replied. 

“Parents couldn’t help out?”

Y/N laughed dryly, “I’m their guardian and emergency contact when it comes to school. We keep Frank out of it.”

“Frank?”

She sighed and spoke cooly, “My dad.”

Her cool tone seemed annoyed by the topic, but Bruce could tell her body language was anxious. Nodding silently, he decided not to pry. Bruce wasn’t even sure where he stood with Y/N, he’d rather not test his luck asking questions about her family, so they rode once again in blissful silence.

Pulling into the school parking lot, Bruce pulled Y/N’s hand away from the door handle and moved out of the car to open the door for her. He had another pleasant memory of his mother, be a gentleman, Brucie, pop into his head. It had become second nature to him now. As Y/N stepped out of the car, she noticed Bruce stepped with her toward the school. Turning to him, she said, “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I drove you here,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Honestly, I’m kind of in it now.” 

Y/N huffed, turning to reluctantly walk inside, and Bruce followed after her. Y/N knew if she really pushed, he would have stayed by the car, but she didn’t even feel like arguing. She had enough on her mind. Fighting, she thought, I’m gonna kill them. Buzzing into the office, she turned quickly to him, pointing at one of the chairs sat in the office lobby, “You can sit there.” 

“Whatever you want. I’m here for moral support,” Bruce replied as he plopped into one of the plastic, cushioned seats.

Liar, Y/N thought as she approached the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, an older woman with a shorter, choppy haircut, had given Y/N the basic rundown of what happened, but it felt like a few details were missing. Some boys were arguing over an article with Carl, and it caused a little tiff between them when Lucas got involved, and that’s when the… physical violence started, she had relayed to Y/N. What article? Why did Lucas get involved? Who was Carl fighting with? It wasn’t making sense. 

“You can follow me,” she said. She moved behind the desk to lead her over to the principal's office, but not before glancing over at Bruce Wayne and looking back towards Y/N with a curious look. Y/N mumbled, confused, “After you.”

Bruce had sat nice and close to the entrance of the principal's office. He wanted to be in range if Y/N needed anything. Not that she would, but just in case. God, what is wrong with him?

“Why would you fight him?” she scolded, sharply.

He could hear her brother try to defend himself, “He needed help!”

So, that must be Lucas.

“He needs mental help,” she teased back. “Seriously, you’re already on your third strike. What’s going on?”

“They were talking shit about you,” Bruce could hear who he could only assume was Carl mumble. That’s my cue.

It seemed as if Bruce had manifested in the doorway, “What’d they said about your sister?”

“What are you doing in here?!” she bellowed at him. Bruce took in the situation. Y/N was squatted in front of her brothers, who sat in similarly uncomfortable cheap chairs as they had in the lobby. She had her hands placed on their forearms, in a comforting manner. The oldest one, Lucas, looked like he was maturing well. He could see similarities between him and Y/N, but for the most part, he had his own individual look. His eyes were bordering on sunken in, and his cheek sported black and blue from his fight earlier. The second boy Y/N was with had to be Carl. He looked younger and impressionable. He clung to Y/N’s arm as if she hung the moon and sported a black eye and busted lip. Not only that, he was the spitting image of Y/N, but that wasn’t even the most shocking part. There at the desk was no one. No principal. Not a single person. 

“Where is your principal?” he responded, unbothered.

Carl stared up at Bruce Wayne flabbergasted, “Holy shit.”

“Don’t swear,” Y/N said with clenched teeth. “You need to go sit in the lobby-”

“Sorry, I’m late, Ms.Y/L/N,” the principal stepped in. “I had to settle a matter with the other student.” Their principal, a stout man with a slick combover, looked over at Bruce Wayne with what seemed to be slight shock and then a knowing look. He cleared his throat and gestured to the two empty chairs. “Please sit down. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Wayne.”

“I’m sorry he really doesn’t need to be here-”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, interrupting her. Bruce looked over at Y/N and gestured his hand for her to sit first. She was embarrassed enough as it was, she really didn’t want him to hear about her dysfunctional family here, at her brothers' school, of all places. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N broke the silence, “Where are the other student's parents? I’d like to speak to them about this whole situation.”

“Well, that would be me, Ms.Y/L/N.” You have got to be fucking kidding me. Y/N looked over at Bruce in disbelief. Should the principal be handling situations his own son is involved in? She certainly didn’t think so. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate,” Bruce started, “to be handling your own child’s punishment? Regarding the situation, I mean.” Y/N gave him a sideways glance telling him it wasn’t his place to butt in, but he seemed to ignore it.

“Mr.Wayne,” the principal seemed to become defensive quickly, “I don’t suggest you put your nose into other people's business. These aren’t your kids.” Wasn’t he the one to tell Bruce to sit in? Y/N became visibly annoyed.

“As a donator,” Bruce smirked, and Y/N felt her ears perk up, “I just can’t support a school that handles issues in such a way. You understand?”

The principal’s face turned white, and every negative feeling Y/N had about Bruce Wayne, had dissipated. She could kiss him on the mouth.

Oh, he was good. He was so good at getting around people, getting exactly what he wanted to be. She felt a sigh of relief leave her chest, and Bruce placed a knowing hand on her knee. He was letting her know, I’ve got you. 

-

After the sour meeting with Carl and Lucas's principal, Y/N had suggested she and the boys take the bus home, despite her brother's protests. Bruce simply wouldn't allow it; he had other plans for the four of them. So here they all sat at Lucy’s Pancakes, a breakfast diner near the office. Y/N couldn’t even be bothered to be annoyed with the change in plans after Bruce’s stunt earlier. Her brothers might have been suspended if he hadn’t stepped in.

So she pleasantly ate her Choc-O-Chunk pancakes sitting across from Bruce Wayne, who looked like peak domesticity. He gave his full attention to her brothers, answering their every question and whim. With his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, she couldn't help but grin. It was all too sweet.

Her brothers threw all kinds of questions at him. 

How much was your car?

What do you even do?

How did you meet our sister?

How much money do you have?

How many girls have you dated?

“So you broke up Y/N and Russ huh? I’d call it an upgrade.”

Y/N swore her head had completely swiveled when Carl asked that question. Bruce looked up at her, unsure how he should respond. He had to remind himself it wasn't his place, but he found himself shaking his head anyway. Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Carl, what?! No-"

Bruce cleared his throat and slipped out of the booth, "I think I should go pay the check."

Y/N couldn't help but feel so embarrassed, watching Bruce head toward the cashier. "Okay, not funny, Carl. What are you talking about?"

“You didn’t see the article?” he asked.

"That asshole kid was saying you were Bruce Wayne's bitch," Lucas said angrily, "Carl headbutted him."

"The article in the Daily Planet,” Carl handed her his cracked iPhone. There on the screen was her and Bruce at her birthday dinner. Y/N was photographed with Bruce’s arm on her bare waist, fingertips dipping into her dress. He was whispering in her ear in the picture, and she blushed about as red as her dress, but other than that, she looked good. It was the headline that shocked her. Bruce Wayne Breaks Up Assistant’s Engagement By Lois Lane. She snatched the phone out of her brother's hand. 

Bruce Wayne’s assistant, Y/F/N Y/L/N, was seen at The Ocelot wearing her engagement ring, but where was it the next day? Bruce Wayne might be the answer. 

Sources say the bachelor's assistant was involved in a four-year engagement with her high school sweetheart, Danny Russell. After witnesses saw Wayne mingling with Y/L/N in the Ocelot, the assistant appeared ringless as she walked into Wayne Enterprises the next day. Sounds like a classic romance trope to me-

“This is bullshit,” Y/N read.

“I dunno,” Lucas spoke pointing to the picture. “You look pretty close there.”

She slapped his hand out of the way, “Bruce is not the reason I’m done with Russ-”

“Your sister was lucky to dump that cheater,” Bruce emerged again, placing a tip down on the table. 

Carl turned toward Y/N for confirmation. Once he realized it was true, his eyes turned cold, “I’ll burn his house down.”

“He couldn’t afford a house and even if he could it’s none of your business,” she spoke pushing Carl’s head down, “now eat your pancakes.”

@pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt @maxinehufflepuffprincess @padsfirewhisky @moejoeflow @pank0w @qardasngan

[caxde]

congratulations on a milestone! 🎉

could i request this prompt;

person a comes out looking amazing, and person b is literally too stunned to speak. person b's hand is on their chest as if they're trying to catch their breath. person b so desperately wants to reach out and say something, until person a grabs person c's hand. 

with person a as reader and the others as eddie and steve, whoever way round you like 🖤

thank you for the lovely request anon, hope this is everything you wanted! i might do a part2 cus honestly I had so much fun writing it <33

steve x reader x eddie 2.9k | lovingsomeone

“So, will you actually say something to her this time?” Robin teased Eddie for the hundredth time. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snapped back, shaking his head as he overly enunciated every word, trying desperately to not blush at the thought of you. 

“Sure you don’t.” She breathed out, pushing her head back. 

Robin had always been preceptive, even more so when it came to her best friends. Maybe that’s why Robin had no problem when it came time to figure out what was going on. 

She was the first -and maybe only one- to catch Eddie’s lips opening, the clenched fists, the way he always tried to make you laugh or how he looked fastly over at you everytime something funny happened, just so he could see you smile. 

It wasn’t long after when she clocked Steve doing something similar. Steve would always fix his hair before talking to you, he took a step closer than he had to when he was talking to you, his hand lingered when he passed something to you. Most importantly, Steve was a big flirt, and Robin could tell it was working. 

She still was unsure about you. 

She had caught you looking at Eddie when he was deep into a story, your eyelids half closed, as if you were daydreaming about him, and she was sure she had seen you bite your lower lip after looking at his neck. 

But today you had called Steve an idiot with a dumb smile, a playful touch to his chest that had left your cheeks with a pinkish hue, only made worse when Steve grabbed your hand so he could make you twirl to the sound of the music emanating from his car before he left when he dropped you both off. 

Robin was now sitting outside the car park, with an Eddie who was lost into you. 

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and the way your hair moved as you walked closer to them. 

“You’re doing okay?” She asked with an eyebrow raised, as she schotched over so you’d sit next to her as you always did. 

Eddie didn’t even look up, he just grabbed the chocolate bar he had in his pocket, for exactly that reason, handing it over to you. 

“You don’t have to.” Your voice came out all shy, a soft smile as you looked at the colorufull wrapper that laid right in his hands. 

“I know.” Eddie muttered, nodding his head at you, the usual grin he had only for you appearing on his face. 

“Thanks Eds.” You managed to say, grabbing it and biting it. 

Robin rolled her eyes as soon as she saw Eddie focusing on the way your lips opened, stifling a laugh as she shook her head. Both of you are oblivious to the way the other feels.

“Are we still going to the dance tonight?” You asked, breaking the small moment of silence that had formed. 

“Is it tonight?” Eddie asked, his usual teasing tone in his voice every time this topic came up. 

“Yes…” You squinted your eyes at him, knowing he’d smile as soon as he saw you. 

“Yeah, we’ll be here.” Robin confirmed, standing up from the little curbside she had settled into. “Can you give me a ride, Eds?” She asked, tussing her hair in the middle of the question. 

“Uh, sure. D’you need a ride, dove?” Eddie was embarrassed as soon as he muttered the nickname he tried, recomforted by the way you seemed to be pleased by it. 

“I think Steve’s picking me up.” You felt a bit guilty saying it, made worse by Eddie pressing his lips together, followed by a short nod as he went to find his van. 

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Robin had had enough of playing detective. She needed to know what was going through your mind. 

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, not really wanting to know if she was asking what you thought she meant. 

“Oh come on! Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve has a crush on you, you..?” She left the question open, wanting you to finish it with an answer, instead you got all flustered, standing up straight in a fast motion, trying to make sense of what she had just said. 

“Eddie doesn’t have a crush on me! Neither does Steve, he’s just being nice… And I just, they’re both…” 

“Hot?” 

“Shut up…” You punched her on her shoulder, a giggle escaping both of your lips. “They both treat me so well, and they’re kind and yeah… they’re hot.” 

Robin couldn’t help but laugh, and neither could you, it only made it worse when Robin suggested that if you played your cards right, you might see Paris. 

It continued until Steve’s car stopped next to you. 

Steve stepped out, fixing his hair in a movement that made you wish you could be the one fixing it. His other hand held a small gathering of wild flowers, with pink carnations sticking out of them. Robin's mouth opened wide, as she saw how Steve moved closer to you, looking nervous. 

“Hi.” You chirped, as soon as he stood right in front of you, his feet almost touching yours. 

“Hi.” He stuttered a bit, his nervous energy made evident. He gave a quick glance at Robin, who just nodded, stepping back a bit. “I uh… I know this might be cheesy but, these are for you–” He stopped talking when your fingers brushed his, the same feeling he always had invading your body. An electricity, a warmness that was hard to explain. 

“They are lovely… Why…?” The sweetest tone that could be heard as a melody came out of your lips, and Steve could live in it for an eternity. 

“I… I kinnda wanna take you to the dance, if you’re okay with it.” He begged, a faint trace on it on his tone, as he stepped a bit closer, your feet between his opened legs. His eyes locked into yours, you were a goner as soon as you looked at him and the way his lips curved a bit more on the right than they did on the left. 

“Like a date?” You echoed, a glimpse of hope evident enough that his teeth were now showing when he smiled as he nodded. “I’d love to.” 

Steve caressed your cheek as he reached to hold your hand, walking you to his car as he opened the door for you, he was still going to drive you home. 

Unlucky for Eddie, he had seen the whole thing, and Robin said nothing, just waited for him to start the car. 

-

You and Robin were supposed to get picked up by Steve, who was supposed to pick Eddie up. 

It did happen, only that the tension in the car between both boys could be felt, even from outside and with the windows rolled up. 

No music was playing on the radio, Steve was grabbing the steering wheel a bit harder than he needed to -his knuckles turning white- whilst Eddie kept playing with his index finger, one swipe left, two swipes right. 

Eddie wanted to talk, to ask Steve is he was serious about it, but the smell of aftershave was intoxicating enough to confirm he was. 

As soon as the car stopped, Eddie looked at the wooden doors of Robin’s house, and the way Steve walked them up with such confidence -even if he was just faking it, he was nervous about it all going well, so much so he hadn’t even realised he drove over with no music on- he left a knock on the door, for it to open shortly after. 

You were truly breathtaking. 

Red had never looked that good. The dress hugged your chest, a flowy skirt dropping from your waist, your arms decorated with the same red colour as what looked like a scarf fell from them. Your hair was out of your face, your eyes shined a bit more, your lips looked pinker, juicier. He was losing his mind. 

It only hurt a bit more when he realised he had his hand out, waiting for yours to fit in it, but you moved past him, accepting Steve’s instead, as he twirled you around, praising you, telling you just how good you looked. A shower of compliments Eddie was also thinking, but couldn’t articulate. He just stared at the floor, only looking up when he felt Robin’s touch on his shoulder, a look of compassion held between the both of them. 

Nobody would blame you, or the hyperfixation you had all of a sudden with the way Steve’s neck looked, the red tie wrapping around it, contrasting with the white shirt. What was worse, you had never realised just how many moles and freckles Steve’s skin had, the one that laid where his jaw met his neck was particularly driving you insane. You danced the night away, mostly it was the four of you in a little circle, chatting and drinking whatever was inside the punch. Steve’s hands only found your waist when a slow song played. His thumbs grabbed you a bit too hard, in a way that he knew immediately why you bit your lower lip, and in response your hands were behind his neck, your nails tracing a patron in his skin, tugging his hair slightly. He grinned, chuckled and made you laugh, his eyes shining, looking at yours. You had never seen such beauty in brown until now. 

Maybe you did like Steve, and maybe he did like you. 

Eddie went outside. As soon as he saw you biting your lip, his hands on your waist, yours in his hair, he needed some air. 

He wished it were him. He wasn’t as fancy as Steve was, he had a white shirt under his uncle's old muted brown shirt. He struggled to remember in which pocket he put the Marlboro's away. He had been fidgeting with his lighter for a while, needing, craving a moment of silence. 

He was almost done smoking as he felt sorry for himself, when he heard the doors opening, the sudden music became clear for those brief seconds. 

He turned around, seeing you walking towards him with the biggest smile he had seen in your face for a while. 

For a brief moment, he forgot he was hurt. 

“You do look beautiful Moon” You told him as soon as you reached him, your body next to his, snatching the half smoked cigarette that he had in between his fingers. 

He scoffed, turning his whole body to look at you, he saw the way you smiled up at him, you were being sincere which was only just as hurting as you dancing with him had been. 

“Beautiful?” He questioned, a slight teasing on his tone as he inched closer, breathing in the smoke you let out, stealing the cigarette back. 

“Yeah, beautiful handsome Eddie.” You uttered, the faint smell of alcohol left your mouth, Eddie scrunch his nose. 

“You’re drunk?” 

“No, only had one drink. But you’ve been moody, I miss you in there.” You chirped back, your usual playful tone didn’t make him smile, not even grin. You got worried right there and then. Your hand reaching for his, trying to pull him back into the party. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” He implied, nodding at Steve who was just now opening the door, looking for you with a lovesick grin on his face. 

“What’s going on?” You weren’t sure what you had done to leave him in such a state, he seemed hurt, his words colder than they had even been. 

“Nothing.” Eddie lied, you hated lies. 

Something in you clicked, as you saw the way Steve smiled you, a contradiction to Eddie’s pursed lips as his jawline looked sharper than it ever did. 

Robin’s words echoed in your head Eddie’s got a crush on you, Steve’s got a crush on you. 

“Well, next time have the courage to ask me out before someone else does…” You snapped back, your arms crossing over your chest, a protective stance taking hold of you as you stepped back. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He shook his head, his hair brushing against his face, an apologetic look on his eyes that made you want to cry. 

“It means don’t just suppose nobody will want me, am I supposed to wait for you forever?” 

Eddie couldn’t quite believe that declaration, knowing now you might also have some feeling for him, but he was a little too late. You sniffled your nose, shaking your head, your hair flowing everywhere. “Forget it.” You declared, leaving the little bubble you were in. 

You walked over to Steve, and he just looked at you, the smile he had turned as soon as he saw the way your eyes were crystalizing, menacing with tears. He cupped your cheeks with his hands. 

You gave in, your body hitting his, Eddie just saw the way your shoulders moved up and down. 

You were crying now. 

“Honey…” Steve begged as he took you in his arms. “Do you want to leave?” 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered back, feeling warmer in his arms, the coldness of Eddie’s words brushing away with the closeness of Steve’s body. 

“Don’t be. We can go anywhere you want. As long as I’m with you I’m happy.” He blurted, his eyes looking at yours, his thumbs brushing out the tear that came out of them. 

“Are you sure?” 

“‘curse I am.” He added, a smile returning to his lips, before he kissed the crown of your head. “I can also drop you off.” He offered, you shook you head. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” You answered, your voice still barely above a whisper. 

“That’s fine, you wanna go for a walk?” He replayed instead, taking your hand, intertwining your fingers with his. 

As soon as you nodded he started walking. He didn’t push for you to talk, he didn’t try to make assumptions, but of course he did. 

The last he had seen was you talking with Eddie. Steve had always thought that Eddie was beautiful, he had a magnetic pull with people that was hard to explain, and he also knew that Eddie was sharp with his words. So he gave you enough time to gather your thoughts. 

“I do like you…” You confessed, your tone remaining low and soft as you spoke, looking at the ground, not confident enough to look at him right now. 

“I like you too.” He gleamed with pride, though he thought that much was obvious. 

“I… I figured that out with the flowers.” You recalled, as a shiver from the cold air made you shake a bit. 

Steve wasted no second, his tuxedo jacket laying on your shoulders now. 

“The flowers gave me away?” He teased, a short chuckle in the back of his throat. “It wasn’t my constant offer to drive you anywhere?” He admitted with a defeated laugh. 

“I thought you were being nice.” You admitted, still not looking at him, much more interested in the way your shoe made contact with the ground beneath your feet. 

“I was. I also have this crush on you.” The word sended shivers down your spine. 

“Robin says Eddie also has a crush on me.” That when you looked up, seeing a defeated nod from Steve only confirmed it. “I… I don’t know what to do.” 

“I don’t wanna tell you what to do, but… while you figure it out, can I defend my case?” He pleaded, his waist bumping into yours, his finger under your chin. He was being brave, he was finally taking his chance. 

As soon as you nodded, and your lips parted, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips, a neediness that became clear as you realised what was about to happen, Steve got closer. Close enough to breathe the same air as you, his mouth a whisper away from yours, enjoying that tension that had formulated in the air. He was enjoying that bit of power, feeling how bad you wanted him. You were the one to finally close the distance, and he was ecstatic about it. He took his time, his lips moving gracefully against yours, your hands tugging the back of his neck, one of his was lost in the space between your neck and your jawline, applying a pressure that made you moan against his lips, thought maybe that was due to the way his other hand was grabbing your waist, his fingers would leave a mark, that much was clear. 

As soon as you break off the kiss, the lovesick smile on both of your faces was evident. 

“That was…” He muttered, left speechless by your kisses, needing more of them. 

“You are a good kisser.” You slightly teased him back, recalling the rumors about him in a joyful manner. 

He kissed you a lot more after that, having to stop walking in the middle of the road as you went to find his car. 

Robin saw it, and decided it was best if she kept her mouth shut this time, but she did overhear the last thing Steve whispered to you before going back into the car. “I don’t mind sharing, you can figure out whatever you need, honey.” 

She already saw the headache coming, and really regretted that Eddie didn’t see the way your cheeks flustered at the idea of being with him for a while. 

-

if you enjoyed it, pls like a comment, reblog or like, it really helps a lot <33

request and asks are open!

[swordsandholly]

Across The Way

Ch. 2: And So It Begins

Retired!Ghoap x fem!plus size!Reader

MDNI

Ao3 | Previous - Next

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: You go to Scotland with high hopes for your future. After all, you have the bakery you always dreamed of and a whole new life to live. Plus, the men who own the butcher’s shop across the street seem nice.

A/N: I got this out a lot faster than I thought I would. Hopefully my work doesn’t get too insane and I can get the next out in a timely manner - it’s going to be a bigger one!

“You were right.” Simon carefully cuts through the loaf with a serrated knife. He’s never lost his skill with them, despite their uses becoming increasingly more domestic over the years. It’s charming, in a way - the juxtaposition of where they started and where they are now.

“Right about whit?” Johnny asks.

“She is a pretty little thing.”

“Donnae tell me I need tae be worried about ye sneakin’ off at work.” He jokes. Simon would never, of course, but it’s fun to see the way his cheeks heat up at the implication. Without his mask he wears every expression with reckless abandon.

Simon settles his large frame into the seat across from Johnny at the dining table. It’s small, they don’t need much. The chairs always creak under Simon’s weight in an almost threatening fashion. He pushes a plate with two pieces of the bread and some eggs over to Johnny. There’s an odd tug in his chest when he picks up the slice - an urge to be gentle as he spreads butter over it. Gentility is not a compulsion he feels often.

“S’good.” Simon mutters around his bite.

Johnny nods along after taking one himself. There’s love in it - he can tell. A piece carefully crafted with only absolute perfection in mind. How strange that food can carry such a feeling.

“Was a wee bit worried we’d be stuck across from the nicest, worst baker in the world.” He mutters.

Simon huffs out a half laugh.

~~~

Your first week goes by in a blur. For a small town they sure do manage to keep you busy. It’s good, you remind yourself. Better than none. If you keep it up at this rate you’ll be able to hire help by the end of the summer quarter.

By Monday, the first day of your “weekend”, you’re overdone. Head dizzy and body exhausted, you spend the day in bed. It’s a gratifying exhaustion, one you hope to build more of a tolerance for. As of now, though, you elect to remain deeply buried under the covers.

When you wake for a second time the sun is already near setting again. The entirety of Monday slunk by with you in bed. You grumble to yourself angrily like an old man. You wanted to unpack today - to at least get your clothes and kitchen items put away.

“Stupid.” You grouse. At least you still have time to shower, you suppose.

As you stand the world blacks out for a moment, your body swaying in place. You allow yourself to fall back on the bed, sitting while your vision slowly comes back into focus. Blinking away black dots and off squiggles that dance across your eyes. On attempt number two you manage it, making your way to the bathroom.

The work is worth it. The pain is worth it.

This is what you always wanted, after all.

You are happy. You can feel it in your bones. They’re lighter than they used to be - your whole body thrums with excited energy even as you have to lower yourself with the upmost care into the shower seat. Even as you have to scrape one of the cheap fold out chairs you managed to get over to the stove while you cook a late night dinner. Thank god for low counters.

When you were arranging your schedule it took a while to get it perfected. To compensate for your body you have to have time to rest and be able to do a lot of baking preparation before the work week starts. Monday and Tuesday are for rest. Wednesdays are for prep. The shop is closed but you’re in the back working your ass off mixing and kneading and shaping doughs. As well as practicing new recipes you want to add to the store’s line up eventually. Your goal is to sell American biscuits, preferably in batches of six, but those take a lot of work and don’t keep as long. They’ll have to wait until you have hired help.

It’s all chance and whatever you can manage to make happen. You learned to be okay with that, though.

You’ve got plenty of spoons, you tell yourself. Just need to use them wisely.

When you finally close the fridge, now fully stocked with dough ready to proof and bake, you check the clock. It’s still the early afternoon. You finished sooner than you assumed you might. The thought makes you giddy - makes you feel accomplished.

It makes you feel normal.

As you exit into the warm spring sun you take a moment. Ever since you arrived you haven’t been able to just stop. To just take everything in - let the foreign air fill your lungs and the aura of the town sink into your bones.

It’s a lovely little main street that you’re located on. The building to your left is a large family owned pharmacy (very convenient for you) and to your right is an empty brick building. It looks like a former post office, but from what you know the current post office is a few blocks down beside the grocers. It’s quaint, the lot of it.

Your eyes settle on the shop across from yours housed in a simple brick building painted white. The upstairs is an apartment much like yours, you think, but from what you know it currently remains empty. The sign above the door reads A Cut Above the Rest. You wonder if that was Simon or Johnny’s doing.

Would it be weird to go in? You suppose not, after all they came to yours. It’s only fair you give them some patronage as well. Plus you need to ask how the bread was. Hopefully they liked it - you realized halfway through the night that you didn’t even ask if they like sourdough before shoving it into their hands.

That thought kept you up later than you’d like to admit.

You look both ways down the street. This particular spot doesn’t have a crosswalk but the road is so dead even when the downtown is busy you figure it’s worth risking. The lack of danger doesn’t stop you from fast-walking across, though.

The shop’s old-fashioned door bell chimes prettily as you push it open. For a butcher it smells extremely clean - almost clinical. It’s small, with an L shaped display counter and a register at the end nearest the door. Packages of sausage links and the like hang on displays across the back wall. Beside the wooden saloon doors that lead behind the counter is a little dog bed with a very well crafted name plate reading Riley hanging right above it.

So cute.

“Afternoon.” Simon appears from the back, wiping his hands on a rag. You jump a little, so lost in taking in your surroundings you forgot what you came here for.

“H-hi!” You smile. You forgot how intimidating Simon is. His gaze levels you - pins you underneath him like a fly under a swatter. Maybe that’s a bit dramatic. “I thought I’d come check your shop out and ask how the bread was?”

“It was good.” He replies bluntly. Totally monotone. The corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. You decide that’s it’s a smile - whether that’s the reality of his expression or not.

“It’s really nice in here.” You look around. There isn’t much for decoration. The walls are too covered in menus and diagrams of cuts to leave room for anything extra. There’s a shelf of odds and ends opposite the main counter full of high end mustards and condiments. Little things to go with whatever you could think to make out of the varieties of meat they offer.

“Thanks.” Simon nods. “One moment.”

You watch with curiosity and a slight frown as he makes his way into the back. He almost has to duck under the doorway. Old buildings with low ceilings and all that. The place definitely wasn’t made with a six foot plus behemoth in mind. You continue to look around, rocking back and forth on your heels. They have a perfect score on their inspectors plaque. You might not know Simon well, but he seems the type to be absolutely precise about everything. The score doesn’t surprise you.

Yours is almost perfect - some rules are different here than in the US. Next time, you swear you’ll get it top notch! You look across the street at your shop. You wonder if you made the wrong choice with The Honey Bun. It’s bit much now that you see it from afar but it still makes you smile. That’s what matters, you guess.

Simon comes back out with a small, nicely wrapped package. “You don’t ‘ave any dietary restrictions d’you?”

You shake your head and he pushes the package toward you. Your eyes widen - it’s a great cut of high end beef. Like, really good beef as far as you know. Something you’d never be able to afford even if your business wasn’t brand new. You stare between Simon and the little pack in your hands. “Th-this is so nice but I-“

“It’s only fair.” He cuts you off. “Neighbors, yeah?”

You can’t help the grin that splits your face, eyes misting up despite yourself. Kindness has not been a constant in your life - more of a rarity. Something you had to claw and fight to earn. Being given it so freely but such a taciturn man has you reeling just a bit.

“Thank you… I’ve got to head back but, uh, thank you. Really.” You press the small package to your chest. “Tell Johnny I said hi?”

“Course.” He nods.

“Thanks again!” You grin, giving a little two finger salute before practically skipping all the way back into your dingy little apartment. Happily, you pack away the meat to use later. It’s too nice to just make any dish out of - best to save it for a special occasion. Your first gift in your new life. Best to savor it.

~~~

“Afternoon, bonnie.” Johnny appears in your doorway while you sweep up from the Saturday rush, bell chiming upon his entrance. “Hope I’m not a bother.”

“Not at all.” You smile, resting the broom on the counter. “Hello to you as well, Miss Riley.”

She huffs out a quiet bark in reply, sitting dutifully at Johnny’s feet. You don’t have much experience with service dogs - other than the well known rule not to pet them while they’re working. They were always too expensive for you to get and your condition wasn’t labeled serious enough to warrant financial aid. (Despite the fact that you can, and have, passed out and hit your head on something hard.)

“Can I get you something?” You ask.

“Och, I’m a’right. Just wanted tae stop by an’ say hello before headin’ home.” He gives you that dashing, bright grin. “Simon always kicks me out of the shop at close.”

“He doesn’t need help?” You ask. Surely cleaning up a butchers shop is a huge task. You have your work cut out for you with all the flower - you can’t imagine cleaning that amount of blood and mess.

Johnny shrugs. “The cleaning chemicals trigger my migraines.”

You hum. “Well, you’re always welcome to stop by. Actually,” you turn on your heel, “I’ve got somethin’ I’d like you to try, if you want.”

“Never one to say no to food. Especially from a pretty girl.” Johnny says as he follows. He tells Riley to stay in front and she listens - the perfect little lady that she is. You nearly trip at his comment, keeping your back turned so that he hopefully doesn’t see the heat spreading from your face and down your neck.

“I-it’s, uh, you ever had American biscuits?” You ask, praying he doesn’t notice the shake in your voice. You have to get on your tip toes to reach the small basket you made the day prior - carefully lowering it and pulling back the gingham cloth you wrapped them in.

An image of home.

“Aye, had them once on a layover at some chain diner.” He nods. “Donnae think they were fresh, though.”

“Well these are proper biscuits.” You carefully cut one in half with ease. “Sometime I’ll have to make you some gravy to go with.”

“Yer gonnae make us fat, hen.” Johnny chuckles.

“There are worse things to be.” The words come out more defensive than you would have liked. An automatic mechanism - a harshness you've honed over the years.

You hate how easily you wield it, sometimes.

Johnny leans forward over the table, a furrow in his brow. “I dinnae mean-“

“Here.” You cut him off and hold out the biscuit on a napkin, smothered with butter in the middle.

Johnny lets your interruption go. Probably happy for an out. He takes the fluffy baked good slowly, cupping it in his large hand with care. You wonder if he always does that, touches things with such gentle love. Is it learned? Is it just natural to him? Does he touch Simon like that? Gentle caresses?

What’s that like?

Johnny takes a massive, enthusiastic bite. Somehow his blue eyes manage to sparkle even more, grinning as he chews. “Sh’gew!”

You laugh at his attempt to talk around the food. “Glad you like it.”

He swallows roughly. A full body gulp. “Why’d ye start bakin’ anyway?”

“My grandparents raised me.” You fold the biscuits back up in their little basket. “My grandma taught me how. She was the best in town - won the pie contest almost every year.”

“Tha’s lovely.” The smile he gives you is so genuine it makes your chest constrict.

“Mean old bat but she could beat anyone in the kitchen.” You laugh. “We swore she had some kinda magic. Like a green thumb but for cooking.”

“My mum’s like tha’. Can make anythin’ out of nothin’.” He nods along.

You fall into an easy back and forth - never breaching anything deeper than the most surface level of content as he eats. It’s manageable. Johnny doesn’t push and neither do you.

Riley barks from the front of the shop.

“Och, tha’s my queue.” Johnny brushes off his hands and checks the front of his shirt for crumbs. “Take care, aye?”

You smile. “You too.”

~~~

Johnny’s words keep ringing in your ears. You don’t know why. It’s nothing special. There’s no reason to attach to them. You raise a hand to wipe off the fog and stare in the small mirror hung above your bathroom sink.

Pretty girl.

You scoff. You’re not a pretty girl. You’ve never been a pretty girl. Fat girl. Stupid girl. Sick girl. Tired girl. Sad girl.

That last one you’ve heard more than anything else. Out of all the descriptors of you it stands out as the most used. By everyone from teachers to your own family. Always just a sad, sad girl.

You got it from your mom, they’d say. It’s not like you would ever know.

You rip your eyes away from the mirror and try to let the thoughts melt away as you sink into the comfort of your blankets. Those thoughts live back on the other side of the Atlantic. They don’t get to follow you here.

[to-the-stars8]

The Waynes' Nanny

Batfamily and Reader/ Bruce Wayne x Reader Chapters Ao3

Nanny Flo

You woke to the sound of banging on your bedroom door and thought about ignoring it until a voice came through telling you it was Bruce. With a groan, you groggily told him to come in. Coming in, he sat on the edge of your bed as he informed you, much to your concern, that Cassandra had started her ‘cycle’ as he put it. It was pathetic just how ignorant he was when it came to women. 

Sitting up, you put a hand on his shoulder and said, “Mr. Wayne, you are so clueless.”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Bruce said, acting offended, but you could see the ghost of an amused smile on his face. You rebuffed his words with a scoff. Throwing off your blankets, you stepped out of bed. You noticed he averted his eyes, and, when you looked down, you realized that you were only in a t-shirt and underwear. With a shriek, you shrunk in on yourself. “Mr. Wayne! Get out!”

Scrambling to his feet to get out the door, he mumbled an apology. You turned, feeling how hot your face was and trying to shake the memory from your head. Now wasn’t the time to think about how your handsome boss just saw you in your underwear, there was a little girl who needed you. 

You went to Cassandra’s room, knowing she’d be there to get away from all the boys. When you approached her door, you found Mr. Wayne standing there trying to talk to his daughter, but, by the look on his face and the screaming coming through the door, he was getting nowhere. Once you got to her door, you could hear crying. Bruce knocked and called out to her. 

“Go away!” She screamed before letting out another sob. 

Bruce whispered to you as an afterthought, “She’s too young.”

You scoffed, slowly pushing him aside. “I don’t think you’re the one to make that call. Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But—”

“Go.”

Bruce nodded and left, stopping to tell Cassie that he loved her. Once he was gone, you knocked on her door. 

“Cass, it’s me,” You said. “I know you’re probably confused and scared right now, but I want to help you.” For a moment, you thought she might want to be left alone. Though, a minute later, there was a click. You slowly opened her bedroom door to reveal her curled on her bed. 

“I hate this,” She sobbed out. “And, I hate everyone.”

When you sat on her bed a small smile crossed your face as you remembered the feeling. Rubbing circles on her back, you soothed her until she could turn around to look at you. “I know, sweet girl. I know. Come here,” You opened your arms and she dove into your embrace. 

As you soothed her, you noticed the dozens of boxes of pads and tampons on her nightstand. Bruce must have gotten to her before you had. It was sweet to see a father try his best, but you could also picture Cassandra getting overwhelmed. 

You explained everything to her, from the different sizes of pads and tampons to what meds best helped with cramps. Getting out a pad that you brought with you, you explained how it would attach to her underwear, along with all the nitty gritty stuff that came with a period. It calmed her enough that she managed to get out a few questions. It was a little sad just how little she knew about herself, but you were glad you could be there for her to explain. 

“Does this mean I’m a woman now,” She asked. 

You tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. “No. You’re ten.”

“I’m eleven next week.”

You laughed to yourself. What a birthday gift from Mother Nature. “Still, no. Whoever says that is either a weirdo or a man—Or both!”

Cassie giggled and that’s the sound you were waiting to hear. You offered to watch some TV and relax, the one thing you would want to get if you got your period for the first time again. She heavily agreed and switched on the little pink TV in the corner of her room. After watching an entire season of My Little Pony, there was a knock at her door and Bruce opened slightly to poke his head in. 

“Hi, sweetheart, how are we doing?”

“I hate you,” She groaned, then added. “But I also love you. Please, leave.”

“Understandable,” He said, closing the door behind him.

You giggled, kissed Cassandra’s hair, and urged her to close her eyes. She complied and within minutes she was out. Poor thing, you thought, must have been so exhausted from getting her period and subsequently dealing with it. It was then you slowly slipped away from her. Once you stepped out into the hallway, you took a deep breath before going to find Mr. Wayne. 

Luckily, he wasn’t far. You found him in the kitchen confessing to Alfred about being scared for his daughter. The old man desperately looked to you for release from the situation, which you were happy to provide. 

Bruce got up from his chair, eyes zeroed in on you, and asked, “Is she okay? Does she need anything?” 

You motioned for him to sit back down as you made some coffee. Once you set the mug down you told him what you had explained to her. Finally comforting him with, “She’s fine and asleep.”

“Thank you,” He said. “For being there for her. I don’t…”

“I’m glad I was here, so don’t worry about it.” You moved to get him another cup of coffee. “I’ll fill you in all the things you need to know. First and foremost, never blame her anger on her period. She’ll kill you, and so will I.”

[spacebubblehomebase]

Helllo i Love your art more than i love donuts and thats ALLOT.but my boy lucifer can have babys,like i dont even know how that works!make it make sense! I just wanna say thank you again for curing are boredom👍🏻

You are SO right that is high praise indeed! I'm honored! =D So here. Have a donut! 🍩🍩🍩 As for Luci, let us turn to the world's favorite 700k+ words old man fanfiction that is The Bible (tm) as according to their lore, it's been canonically stated that angels are genderless for they are beings made of the Pure Holy Spirit and- Holy SHIT! What do you know??? Our dear depressed duck dad was an angel himself and in some depictions Lilith is infertile as was her punishment for her freedom! The more you know! -Bubbly💙

(LMAO. My guy's been traumatized. Once is enough XD)

[rileyglas]

The List ~Pt. 6 - Crestfallen~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: The arrival of a few new guests at the hotel ignites tension, prompting doubts about everyone's true intentions. Tempers rise and you're forced to make a decision about your future.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery (Alastor), sassiness, cursing, fluff, eventual smut, actual plot, slow burn, (possibly religious trauma if you squint), and of course 18+

2.5k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six (You're on it!) Part Seven

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader

It’s been two weeks since you spent that single evening with Alastor, and you’ve slept like complete shit every single night since. The first few were expected as your body was still healing but there was no excuse for the days that followed. Other than the desire to be near him.

It didn’t help that you were beginning to get anxious about the new deal, wondering what he could possibly show you that would help expand your power. He made no mention of it over coffee or in passing. But with Extermination Day getting closer you felt the pressure to be better (now that you knew it was possible).

Like clockwork, Alastor walks into your room with the usual two cups of morning coffee, setting yours on the table. This whole ‘domestic’ side of the demon is something I could really get used to. “Glowing as usual my dear.” He says as he kisses your forehead and sits down on the bench at the end of the bed. Odd. No book? No newspaper? He just sits quietly, staring into his mug. His mind seems to be somewhere else this morning.

“Well good morning to you too. What has the mighty Radio Demon frazzled this morning?”

“Hm?” He hums, still not looking up at you. You frown. 

I know what will get his attention.

“That smile of yours doesn’t hide as much as you think it does…” as you speak, you pull yourself on his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, “…at least not for me,”

A look of pleasant surprise crosses his face at your forwardness and his eyes snap to yours. Finally pulled away from his thoughts. 

Too easy.

“I am far from trying to hide anything darling,” he playfully runs his free hand up your thigh to your hip, resting it with firm grip on your waist, “However, you are correct in assuming my head is a little busier than usual. Charlie just informed me that her father will be making a visit to the hotel today.”

You practically fall out of Alastor’s hold from how fast you jolt up at the news. “I’m sorry…LUCIFER is coming today? You didn’t think that was important information to give me first thing this morning?”

He takes a sip of his drink and shrugs, “I would have told you eventually.”

Rolling your eyes at his nonchalant attitude, you quickly get dressed and head down to the lobby. Everyone was bustling around the hotel to get it prepared for the King of Hell’s arrival. You track down Charlie to ask what you can do and quickly get busy helping the others.

When Charlie answers the door, you catch a peek of the King for the first time and he’s…much shorter than you expected however still strikingly handsome. He was said to be the most beautiful of the angels before his fall. You are just finishing hanging a banner on the stairway when you overhear Alastor’s voice talking with everyone. Making your way down the stairs you catch the end of an apparently heated conversation.

“- well it’s not very clever!”

“Ha – ha! Fuck you.”

“ALRIGHT!” You and Charlie chime at the same time. She takes Lucifer’s shoulder to pull him towards the rest of the group and you wrap your hand on Alastor’s forearm. “What the fuck is your problem?” you scold. He jerks your hand off his arm without a second glance.

Oh we are going to be pissy today?

“And this is our newest resident but with her progress I feel like she’s bound to be our first successful transfer! She’s got a heart of gold!” Charlie beams at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say extending out a hand for a handshake.

Lucifer takes your hand and pecks your knuckles. “Yes, wonderful to meet you as well.” As he looks up he pauses, and a confused look crosses his face. You share an equally confused look while trying to pry your hand back from him. Charlie regains his attention, “Sooo dad there is so much to see –“ she trails off and you walk over to the bar.

“Trouble in paradise?” Husk pokes. If looks could kill, yours would have buried him another six feet under. Taking the hint, he pours you a double of your usual. You hear him mutter a hasty ‘sorry’ when he hands you the glass.

As you baby your drink some girl barges into the hotel, practically throwing herself onto Alastor. I really wish that didn’t bother me as much as it does. Noticing your face twist in annoyance, Husk leans over the bar to your ear, “It’s just Mimzy. She’s trouble, but not in the way you think. I’ll talk to Al in a bit.” You nod, watching her walk over to chat up Husk and Angel. Irritated by the events of the day so far, you excuse yourself to your room.

Halfway up the stairs to realize you don’t actually want to go sulk in your room, so instead you leisurely wander the halls lost in thought. Why is Alastor wrapped so fucking tight over Lucifer being here? Really showing his true colors.

You blindly make the first turn down the hall and knock heads with Lucifer who swiftly wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. You grasp at his shoulders for balance. “Fuck I’m so so so sorry – I was lost in my thoughts.”

“No no that was all me. I also was lost in my thoughts. Are you alright?” his voice was honey, sweetened even more by his soft smile.  

“Yes, thank you. So sorry again – uhm where are your tour guides?”

“I evaded them to look around for myself. However, I am quite glad to have run into you, literally.” He chuckles at himself. Even his laugh is smooth. No wonder this man corrupted not one but two women with ease.

You wrinkle your brows, “Any reason in particular or…?”

“I just was hit with the strangest feeling when we met, and I wanted to ask. Are you…” his voice drops, “fallen?”

You push him away, realizing you are still holding onto each other. “Oh goodness no, I died and ended up straight here. I joke that I just wasn’t one of God’s favorites, even after living ‘by the book’ as they say.” A nervous laugh bubbles out of you but Lucifer looks more empathetic than amused.

“Charlie was right, if this whole redemption thing is even possible, you’d –“

“Please don’t finish that sentence.” You ask quietly. 

He steps closer, lowering his voice to a whisper, “I just see how bright your soul is –“

“Don’t….say that.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think Lucifer was on the verge of tears with how he is looking at you right now. “It must be so painful to be surrounded by such horrible sinners. Redemption would mean –“

“Lucifer please…” you beg with him, feeling your emotions start to take over. Why is he prodding this subject so hard?

“My dear Heaven can make mistakes, even if they’ll never admit it.”

“Enough!” You jerk away from him, causing him to step back in a stunned silence. “It’s ridiculous how the devil himself can see my soul is good yet THEY sent me here without a second thought. My love and my kindness and how I lived righteously on Earth meant NOTHING to them! Heaven didn’t want me so why the fuck would I want to go begging at their gate!?” Your cheeks grow hot as tears begin to pour from your eyes. Why am I crying over this RIGHT NOW?

Lucifer grabs you and pulls you to his chest, turning your tears into full sobs muffled by his coat. You drop to your knees and he kneels with you, tightening his embrace. “I’m sorry,” He breathes, “I understand more than anyone the pain you feel. But I also sense how powerful you’ve become here. Charlie is so lucky to have a friend like you.”

You look up abruptly through bloodshot eyes, taken back by the comment. He laughs at your stunned expression, “I’m Lucifer, THE devil – you really think I wouldn’t know something was up? Don’t worry, I understand the danger if you’re not careful with who you surround yourself -”  

“What did you do to her!?” Alastor’s enraged voice resonates through hotel walls as he rushes over to pull you away from Lucifer. He grabs your arm, yanking you up off your knees. Some timing this guy has.

“Ouch – stop! He didn’t do anything. We ran into each other and just got –“ you try to reason with the increasingly furious demon but it falls on deaf ears. His antlers grow and body starts to stretch over the already smaller body of Lucifer.

“I don’t care if you’re the King of Hell, you touch her again and I’ll take pleasure in ripping those puny arms off your body!”

“Alastor calm down – he was helping me if anything!”

Lucifer stands up, ignoring the threats, but then a realization hits him. He looks at you equally baffled and disgusted. “No….Oh no my dear, you aren’t actually serious, right? All the sinners in Hell and you choose him?” 

“What the fuck does that mean!?” you and Alastor angrily shout in unison.  

Charlie and Vaggie come down the hall to see the tense scene. In classic Charlie fashion, she nervously tries to deescalate the situation, “Oh hey dad! THERE you are! Let’s continue the tour on a different floor, shall we?”

A sudden force hits the hotel, causing the entire building to shake. Looking outside you see several loan shark demons trying to force their way in and yelling for Mimzy. Guess Husk was right about her being trouble. Alastor snaps his head to you, keeping a rigid grip on your arm, “Radio tower. NOW.” he barks. Without waiting for your response, he shrinks into his shadow while the others run down to the lobby.

You walk into the radio tower and look outside in time to watch the last of the sharks being eaten. Maybe that’ll help him blow off some steam from today. Get his shit untwisted enough to actually talk to me. You pace the tower, taking in all the knobs and wires that strewed across the front where he sat every night. Alastor never invited you into his tower and you never felt the need to visit. So why did he ask demand me to come in here instead of his room?

“Feel any better, asshole?” you bite as soon as your ears start to ring.

A chill runs down your spine when he materializes right behind you. “You’d be wise to watch your tone.” He growls threateningly.

You turn to face him, “I’m sorry? My tone? Would you like a reminder of how shitty you’ve been towards me all day? And the whole Lucifer thing, the fuck is your problem with – “ his hand grasps at your throat, holding firm enough to startle you. You look up at him in shock and stare into his glowing red eyes.

“My problem with the King of Hell is none of your concern. However, I quite dislike how easily he got so close to you, my dear. Did you enjoy his hands on you? Did he whisper sweet nothings in your ear? Telling you how wonderful it is that you use your little powers for good?” His words drip with malice as he holds you in place. This was what you always expected from him yet somehow it hurt worse now, after everything you’d gone through together. His last sentence is all you needed to hear to trigger every worry you’ve had since the first deal.

You push yourself away from his grip. Resentment and hurt tightens painfully in your chest. This is it, this is where I need to turn off every emotion I ever thought I've felt for him. You straighten your body and try to speak calmly, “You’re angry because you think he wanted to take me…my power…to use elsewhere, aren’t you? This isn’t about him putting hands on me or you being jealous in that sense, oh noooooo - You thought he was trying to convince me to do his bidding rather than yours, THAT’S why you’re upset isn’t it?”

Static fills the air and he seethes at your words. He moves towards you but you step back out of his reach. You feel his shadow try to grab your legs but you conjure your needles, peppering them across the wood floor to chase it off. “Don’t touch me! It’s true, isn’t it?” Your eyes ignite with anger to hide your tears.

“I believe I made it very clear in the beginning this was about the power but – “ his voice drops and smile fades.  

“What? But WHAT Alastor?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to step towards you again, speaking with a quiet but fierce tone, “Please, I need you to believe me when I say – “

“BELIEVE YOU? Do you hear yourself? This whole ruse of trusting each other, being drawn to each other, wanting to HELP me – it was all for your personal gain! You want nothing from me other than the power I can give you. Well forget it, I told you I wasn’t going to be some PET of yours. Our deals are OVER.” Pulling your hand up, you see the pink and green entwined string that connected you to Alastor. Your chest pangs as it snaps apart, fading into the dust of the tower.

His static cuts out and an eerie stillness falls over the room. In the dim glow of the tower you can only make out his silhouette and red eyes. You stand perfectly still, preparing for him to retaliate, lunge, attack, yell, anything. But he doesn’t. Neither of you move nor speak. After what feels like an hour of silence, Alastor melts into his shadow and disappears out of the room.

You drop to your knees in agony.

Rule #4 Never let your weaknesses show.

A wave of pain burns through your body as though your heart was just ripped out of your chest.

Rule #3 Never bring anyone too close.

How could I be so stupid to think we could work together?

Rule #2 Never tell a soul what (or how much) power you have.

That he could actually care about me?

Rule #1 Never trust another Overlord.

Tag List (Let me know if you would like to be added!)

@rl800 @fairyv-ice @looking1016 @martinys-world @sirens-and-moonflowers @alastorssimp @alastorsgirl48 @mysterisumone

[sarawritestories]

I Wanna Be Yours Chapter 1

Xaden Riorson X Lydia Aetos

Summary: Lydia Aetos Longs to be a Ballerina, her father has other plans, and has conscripted her to the rider's quadrant with her childhood friend Violet. Reuniting with her brother he only gives her two orders. Do not bring up wanting to dance and stay far away from Xaden Riorson. Both of his orders goes ignored.

Content Warning: Violence.

A/N: Here is the first chapter I hope you all Enjoy! 🩰

Word Count: 4.9K

If you want to Read on AO3 click Here

I Wanna Be Yours Masterlist

Ashes. I’m watching my pointe shoes turn into ashes. I can’t help the tears that roll down my face. “Maybe now you will understand that no child of mine will be a performer in a traveling freakshow. My children are riders; they will serve their country with pride.” My Father’s voice grates against my skin as I watch the one thing I treasure most burn my dreams with it. “Come, Lydia, it’s almost time to go.” My legs refuse to move, as the pop of the wood makes me jump.

Hearing Colonel Aetos sigh grates my skin, he’s sending me to my death, with a first-born son like Dain, he didn’t need a second child. Correction he didn’t want one. Yet here I sit to his dismay. His feet move quickly as he places his hand in a vice-like grip around my arm; yanking me from the hearth, I writhe in his grasp as he pulls me away as I see what is left of the pink silk turn black. “That’s enough, Lydia.” He pins me against the wall, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to send a message, “You are going to cross that parapet, and join your brother, you are going to become a rider. Do you understand me?”

I school my face into something soft as if my life isn’t being turned upside down, swallowing the tears. “Yes, Colonel,” My voice doesn’t sound like my own, but my mother’s and my father realizes it too as his complexion pales slightly.

Regaining his composure, “Get dressed, back your rucksack and let’s go we are supposed to be in General Sorrengail’s office in 10 minutes.” I jerk out of his grasp and head to my room, trying to even out my breathing. As miserable as it sounds, I’m glad I will have Violet. The two of us have been inseparable for our entire lives. We are both being forced into the Rider’s quadrant today, at the hands of our parents. I tuck my hand under my mattress and pull out a piece of paper. I sit on the edge of my bed and re-read words I have memorized at this point.

My Dearest Lydia,

My little twinkle toes. I’m so sorry, I had to leave. The life your father leads can feel like a cage. I’m suffocating, little one. I cannot be controlled or maintained like a rabid beast. I’m sorry, I know what this means for you, what your father will make you do when you turn twenty. Just know that not a day goes by when I won’t feel guilty for putting you in that cage to take my place. Just know that I love you and if you get anything from this letter. Don’t stop dancing. Whatever you do, continue dancing through this life. Let dance be your escape from the cruelty Basgiath has to offer. I hope one day we will be reunited, and you will have found a way to break out of the chains that hold you in Navarre.

I love you more than you know,

Mom

Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. Every time I read the letter of my heartaches; she knew that the father would force me into the Rider’s quadrant. Why couldn’t she take me with her? Couldn’t we both be free? Why couldn’t she have stayed just long enough for me to find a way for me to pursue my dream?  Anger bubbles up in my core, why was she so selfish to fucking leave me here, knowing that I would be sharing the same feelings she had.

Not wanting to keep The Colonel waiting I put on a black, long-sleeved shirt and tightly fitted leather pants from an old riders uniform my father found. I fold the note into a small square and tuck it into my boot, not wanting to risk him finding it. Grabbing my bag, I step out of my room that has been my home for seventeen years of my life and meet my father. As we begin to walk, I shut my eyes and I allow myself one more moment to mourn over the dream I will never be able to fulfill.

Violet and I stare up at the tower familiar with the trek we will have to make to reach the parapet, the first trial we will receive before ever becoming a cadet. Violet takes my hand, “At least we have each other.” 

I give her hand a comforting squeeze as we move up the line. “Name,” The lady calls out not bothering to look up from the parchment. Violet moves to talk to the older gentleman as I heave a sigh.

“Lydia Aetos.”

The woman blinks after scribbling down my name and looks up to meet my eyes and I notice the flinch she gives when she notices that they are two different colors. “Are you related to Colonel Aetos?”

I nod my head, “He is my father.” I see Violet is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs, “I turn and look at her. “Have a nice day,” I give her the best smile I can, which in turn might be a grimace as I move to meet my friend.

She is conversing with a taller girl, with dark skin and her hair had been pulled back in small rows of braids. Her brown eyes glimmered with excitement as I came closer. The woman paused and tilted her head at me. “Hello,” I give a small wave, shifting under the weight of her gaze.

“Your eyes.” She begins and my mind starts filling in the gaps with words my father has used in the past.

Ugly.

Disgusting.

Defective.

“Beautiful.” The word shakes me out of my spiral of negativity.

“I’m sorry?” I blinked.

“You’re eyes, they’re beautiful. I have read that some are born with two different colored eyes, but to see the beauty of it in person.” She holds out her hand, “Rhiannon Matthias.”

“Lydia Aetos.” Taking her hand and shaking it a genuine smile creeping up on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, and I’m General Melgren, now move. We don’t have all day.” A man’s voice quips behind us. I turn to find piercing blue eyes and a full head of blond hair; he is wearing a scowl that contorts his face into something heinous.  He gives me a playful wink, that makes my stomach churn, “Let’s go, Princess.”

Not bothering to give him a response, I turned back to my friend and new acquaintance. The three of us begin our ascent up the stairs. The smaller man in front of us- Dylan- keeps babbling about how excited he is to be in the Rider’s quadrant. As he and Rhinannon discuss their dreams and goals, I let my mind wander.

Twirling across the stage, each pirouette clean and precise just as Seraphina has taught me. My tulle skirts billowing around me like a shield. I don’t need to remember the next move, the music seeps into my bones and as if in response my body knows what to do next. I grin as the warmth of all the mage lights, illuminating the stage, kisses my skin. Twirling into a solid form, Large tan hands grip my waist as my partner steps in time with the beat.

We move as one as he spins hoisting me up in the air. I am certain my toes are pointed, and my arms are sharp in an elegant pose. I feel myself being lowered and looked at my partners face, familiar hazel eyes and a toothy grin in plain view, twirling me once more to the crescendo of the music and when my twirls end, He dips me low, my one leg stretched out in between his, the other bent my foot tucked behind my knee cap. His forehead presses mind as my arms move around his neck in time with the end notes of the music.  My eyes close as the smell of Cinnamon, Vanilla waft my nose, as the thunderous applause ruptures through the theater. Lips press against mine and I can’t help the giggle that erupts from my throat.

“Lydia.” His warm voice calls for me.

“Lydia. Lydia.”

“Lydia!” Violet shouts giving me a shove, pulling me out of my thoughts. I look to see that Rhiannon and Dylan are giving me looks of concern. I pressed my hand to my cheek to find them wet with tears. Shit. Violet’s eyes held worry and an undertone of understanding. “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?” She whispers low enough only I can hear, as our hike up the concrete steps was nearing a close as the daylight was beginning to peak through.

“Yeah. I guess I’m missing everyone a little more today.” It’s a severe understatement that I’m making but Violet has her own things to worry about, no need to add more to her plate.

Violet, Dain, and I grew up together, she is basically my sister in all forms of the word. We have been inseparable, even more so when Brennan died and Dain left last year for the Rider’s quadrant, me, and her against the world we always teased. I never felt that more now, she gripped my hand in hers and gives me a squeeze as if she is thinking the same thing. “Thank you for always being there when I need, you Vi.”

Violet snorted, causing Rhinannon to turn and smirk, I look down at her feet briefly and notice the woman has one of Violet’s shoes and Violet in turn has one of her slippers on her feet. When did they do that? Violet’s voice causes me to face her, “You sound like you’re going to die today.”

“I am pretty sure that was the plan.” I murmur as Dylan and Rhiannon reach the top of the stairs. “He wants me dead, Vi.”

“Too bad. You and I. We are not going to die today, Lydia.” Violet was the first to reach the open expanse of the turret. The breath of fresh air is welcome to the stench of sweat and body odor. The warmth of the sun kisses my skin, a large gust of wind whipping my hair across my face. Violet seeing this her eyes widen. “I almost forgot. In my bag there is a little gift from Mira.” I quickly open her bag and pull out a package with my name on it and a little note.

Hey Kid,

A little gift from your favorite sibling. Don’t roll your eyes, you know it’s true!

Just something that can keep that crazy mane of yours up and to remind everyone not to mess with you.

Mira

Unwrapping package to reveal two long gold hair pins, little gold dragons at one end the pointed end sharp as knives. “I love your sister; did you know that?”

Violet laughs as I shut her bag and quickly put my hair in a tight bun. “You and me both.” There is a pause as we make our way closer to beginning. “I’m looking forward to seeing Dain.”

I roll my eyes, about to retort when a man’s voice, “You ready for the next one, Riorson.”

I pause my movements, my hands still in my hair, looking at the broad chest in front of me my eyes trail up and I am met with a set jaw and alluring onyx eyes, and in the light little gold flecks shine through. I roll my shoulders and drop my hands from my hair. His eyes graze my body and back up to my eyes and shiver down my spine. “Aetos, Sorrengail, you two, okay?” Pulling away from the man’s magnetic gaze, I meet Rhiannon’s stare. I dip my chin in silent confirmation.

“Sorrengail and Aetos?” The low rumble of Xaden Riorson voice pulls my attention back to him. This man is the definition of beauty, his sharp jawline, high cheekbones, even with the scar cutting across his brow that drags down to the top of his cheek bone. His tan skin gleams with perspiration from the midday sun no doubt, and I catch a glimpse a tattoo on the side of his neck that disappears with the neckline of his shirt. The clearing of his throat makes me meet his eyes once more. There is a knowing smirk on his face, and he quirks an eyebrow, “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

I remain silent and avert his stare. “You’re Fen Riorson’s son.” Violet’s voice sounds from behind me.

“You’re General Sorrengail’s Daughter.” He retorts, “Your mother had my father executed.”

I can feel Violet’s anger bubbling behind me. “Your father killed my brother I think that makes us even.”

Xaden snorts, “Hardly.” That perks my head up, to find his eyes were already on me. He tilts his head his eyes assessing me, like I’m a prize mare, “And you. I wasn’t aware that Dain Aetos had a little sister. He never talks about you.”

I bite my lip the only indication I give that his words bother me, “I can’t say. I’m surprised.”

Xaden takes a step forward and try to focus on the floor once more, “Why’s that, Kitten?” A finger hooks under my chin forcing me to meet his gaze and my heart rate quickens, out of fear or sheer arousal, I’m not sure.

One thing I do know: This man is dangerous.  Yet I fall for his beautifully set trap and answer honestly, knowing I should not give him any of my weaknesses, “No one likes talking about the disappointment in the family.” For extra measure I take a step back, away from his touch and he lets me, dropping his hand.

“Hurry it up. Some of us are becoming riders today.” The ass hole from before speaks, his words grating my skin. A distant scream comes from the death trap in front of me. When looking over to the parapet I no longer see Dylan and my heart sinks. Rhiannon is still moving, and Violet begins to walk across dark storm clouds rolling in followed by a rumble of thunder. Fucking. Wonderful.

Xaden chuckles and I meet his stare, “Good luck, Kitten.” He gestures for me to the entry point of the parapet.

I glare at him, flaring my nostrils, “My name is Lydia.”

He smirks, “I think my name suits you better.”

I don’t know how the dagger got in my hand but the minute I throw it, the steel passing about 3 people before it hits its mark. The dagger sinks into the crack of the concrete a half an inch from the jack ass who has been making smart ass comments all morning’s shoes. Looking back at those gold flecked onyx eyes I give him a wink, “I think you’ll find, it doesn’t.”

The guy next Xaden laughed, “Looks like the kitten has claws. I hope you make it, Aetos,” He nods his head and I begin to walk. The drop of rain pelts my skin the moment I take my first step. When I take the next few steps, the sky opens as rain cascades down. I can hear Seraphina’s instructions in my ears.

Arms out, straighten that back. Get into second position.

I straighten my posture and extend my arms out, placing my feet outwardly giving myself the optimal balance and proceed to move. I focus on Violet’s pack in front of me as I keep moving. I imagine myself on stage, the music once again whisking me away. The low rumble of drums meets the contrasting sounds of the piccolo and various string instruments to create a melody that makes my movements lighter. I trust in my training, my balance, the music that for years kept me rooted. The music drowns out the sound of the rain colliding against the brick. My mind transforms the stage into a whimsical forest, and I am balancing on a fallen tree trunk to reach for my lover on the other side. His smile warm as the lights pressing against my skin. I’m not in old leather, I’m in a white gown with billowing layers that makes it easier to move in when I dance.

I twirl my feet finding purchase on the log once I complete the spin with flawless precision. A smile emerges on my face as I gear up for my flip the finishing move, I need to do before reaching the halfway point to him. I run and leap, my legs flipping over my head with the elegance of a gazelle. Landing with a pointed toe and my arms reaching for the sky my balance slips slightly but not enough to keep me from moving toward my goal. To keep me from returning to his arms. I allow myself a glance at his eyes and his face contorts into something unrecognizable, evil.

“I’m coming to get you, Twinkle Toes.” The voice is not his and I blink as the music abruptly stops and the reality, I am in comes crashing forward. The cool kiss of rain rakes a chill down my body. The voice came from behind me. I turn to find the blonde from earlier coming at me with full speed. The person that was behind me in line is blocking him from me and still is a good distance aways. That does not deter the Blonde-haired menace, as he grips the arm of the girl and throws her off. My eyes widen and my instincts overtake my body and I sprint. I focus ahead of me and try to think of music that would be appropriate for this. Something fast paced with horns and fast-paced drums, trying to keep my mind on anything besides the absolute menace behind me.

I can hear his footsteps thudding over the pattering of the rain and I quicken my base trusting in the traction of my boots. I can see the end and Violet reaching it. The is gaining on me and I have enough distance that I pause, briefly and take the risk I prep for my jump and slip. Regaining my balance and looking back to see he is still far enough for me to recover. I get in position once more and take a deep breath.

I will not die today.

I sprint into a run once more and when I have enough distance I take my leap, my feet pointed, my back arched in perfect form even Seraphina wouldn’t have anything to say. When I land the ground is slick and I lose my footing. Fortunately, Violet is there to hold me still. “Lydia! We made it!”

I nod and turn to the cadet with bright red hair, she smirks, “Name.”

“Lydia Aetos.”

“Welcome to the Rider’s Quadrant, Lydia. That was one hell of a performance.”

I walk further down the steps and notice that Violet winces, “Let’s get you taken care of.” I loop her arm in mine before we are both grip in a bone crushing hug.

“We did it!” Rhiannon beams and she looks at me, “You definitely made a name for yourself, what you did on the parapet was amazing.”

“What did I do?”

Violet blinks, “You’re kidding.” Before Violet could elaborate.

“Name.”

“Jack Barlow.” His eyes meet mine and there is a snarl on his face. The look promises one thing. Trouble. Thankfully he stalks in the other direction

“Lydia.” Only one man’s voice makes me groan knowing a lecture is brewing, I turn and see Dain standing there his mouth formed in a tight line, his eyes shift over to the silver haired woman next to me and his face shifts into shock, “Violet?”

Violet smiles, “Hi Dain,” Dain looked to his left then to his right before he grips both Violet’s and mine’s wrist and drags us away from Rhiannon.

“Dain,” I hiss, “She’s hurt take it easy.”

As if on cue Violet begins to dry heave. “Shit.” Dain mutters as he takes her to a bench hidden in an alcove where no one could see. “What the hell are you doing here, Violet?” As he tucks her head between her knees.

“General Sorrengail, refuses to have a scribe in her family. Like someone else we know.”

“Scribe is a respectable job. Dancing is not.” Dain deadpans and I clench my fist. A hand touches my shoulder causing me to jump.  “What the hell were you thinking, Lydia? Dancing on the parapet like that?”

I blink, and clear my throat, “I didn’t realize that is what I did. I was trying to put myself in my happy place. To keep me from over thinking about what I was doing. My instincts went into overdrive.”

“What you did was showboat and it’s going to cause me problems.” He scowls at me, and I get a good look at him at him, he’s grown a beard since I last saw him. But he still has our father’s brown eyes, and his hair cut short and his curls sitting atop his head. “What?”

“I can’t look at my older brother. I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.” He rolls his eyes and presses me into a hug.

“Sorry.” He murmurs in my hair as he notices the new pins, “Let me guess.”

“Mira.” Violet, Dain and I say at the same time.

Dain smiles, “They suit you.” His small drops, “You must promise to never do what you did again. There are only two rules that I need you to follow, I expect you to follow them. No talking about dance, or dancing and stay away from Xaden Riorson.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes, “Glad to see somethings never change.” Dain sighs and moves back to Violet.

I felt a hand gripped my shoulder causing me to jump, “It’s just me.” Rhi’s voice calms me as she gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze, “I wanted to swap shoes back.”

Dain looks between Violet’s shoes and glares at Violet. “Make it snappy.” He glares at Rhiannon, “Who are you?”

Rhiannon looks between me and Violet, “I am their friend.” She slips off Violet’s boot and sighs in reprieve as Violet removes the slipper from her foot and grabs her boot, which Dain helped her put it on.

“I am a squad leader.” He looks over to me and Rhi. “You two go tell the red head recording names that you three are going to be in my squad. I’m going to help Violet and will be right back.” I nod my head and turn on my heal.

“Is that your brother?” Rhi asks.

“Yup.”

“He is something.”

“Tell me about it.” I sigh

We have been placed in our squads. I’m grateful that Violet and I ended up together and not in Xaden’s Wing. Not a fan of the fact that he is one of my superiors. His eyes meet mine and he smirks, those eyes look at me like a predator watching his prey. He whispers to our wingleader and then. “Second Wing Flame Section, you will be moving to Fourth Wing.” My stomach sinks, avoiding the stare of my new wingleader.

“Cadets, move.” Dain commands his jaw sets the only indication that he is upset. We move to where our new wing is standing as the one that is now apart of Second Wing move to where we were just standing.                 

Once everyone settles Xaden begins to speak. I try to zone him out as best as I can, exhaustion is beginning to take over my body. The adrenaline from crossing over the parapet but his voice rings out, “You all feel pretty bad ass don’t you,” Cheers erupt around me and Xaden nods, “Feeling invincible?” I do not feel that way. “You think you’re worthy of a dragon.” More cheers erupted and Xaden crossed his arms. The sound of thunder erupts.

No. Not thunder.

Wings.                                                                                                                                                

As if on Xaden’s cue a horde dragons’ approach, the noise begins to build as a regal blue dagger tail lands on the edge of the wall as if it’s a perch for them. Her claws dig into the brick, pieces crumbling down under her weight. I notice the cadets around me are frozen in fear. A few were shaking and their pants had dark spots that trailed down their legs. Terror racks through my body but I focus on my breathing.

Thump, Thump

The blood curdling scream of another cadet rattles me as a young man from the first wing runs heading back toward the parapet. The dragons all shift as a few more cadets scatter. I blink and feel hands around my waist tugging me down before the dragons unfurl their tongues and fire erupts from all different angles. The hands around me tug me close to the lean chest and I place my own hands around the mystery person’s, their fingers lacing theirs through mine I squeeze my eyes shut as anguish screams fill my ears and will certainly give me nightmares. The fire ceases and the smell of burnt flesh is left in its wake. The figure behind me moves and helps me up. I turn around hoping I would see Dain’s face behind me.

Thump, Thump

Instead, I am met with warm brown eyes and a goofy grin. A man with tan skin, a curly mop of brown hair and handsome face looks back at me, “You, okay?”

I nod my hand, “Thank you…” I lead of.

He holds out his hand, “Ridoc Gamlyn.”

I took his hand, “Lydia Aetos.”

Before Ridoc can comment on my name Dain turns, “Quiet both of you.” Ridoc Mimics him and causes me to giggle as Xaden continues his speech.

“Anyone still feel invincible now?” He questions his brow quirking as his eyes loom over the entire Quadrant, locking onto mine.

Thump, Thump.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest. His eyes pin me to the floor incapable of moving. Out of the corner of my eye I see the blue dagger tail moving her head back and forth.  It’s the gasp of the crowd that pulls me from Xaden’s gaze.

Thump, Thump.

 The blues dragon takes a step down and my squad parts to make room for her. Her yellow eyes are looking directly at me as she takes another step forward. Dain’s face paled as he watches on, but its movement to my left that catches my attention. Xaden moves from where he is standing, his face is unreadable. It’s the quaking step of the dragon in front of me and my heart rate quickens as her yellow eyes take me in.

Thump, Thump, Thump

Despite the paralyzing fear, that I may very well die in the next few seconds I take in the creature before me. Her large horns curve on the top of her head. Her scales up close shimmer with various hues of blue and hints of black near the base of her scales, which makes her eyes stand out. Her nostrils flair, it feels like a challenge, as if she is begging for me to turn and run.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I will not die today. I take a glance at where Dain is and spot Violet right beside him, terror on her face. She knows dragons better than I do, though I know enough, she knows my rate of survival is potentially slim here. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing even. My heart erupting in my ears.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

I get down on my knees, my hands remaining at my sides. “What the fuck is she doing?” Jack Barlow’s voice carries over the silence that has fell amongst the court. No one else says a word as I bend forward lowering myself until my forehead touches the cool brick, the small grooves pressed against my skin. I close my eyes and I mentally recite different dance positions in my head trying to ease the fear.

Thump, Thump, Thump.

My breathing begins to even out when I feel the warm steam pressing against my neck. I take the risk and lift my head; the dragon nods her head. Is she giving me the okay to rise? Another dip of her head, and I slowly rise to my feet. As I do I meet her gaze once more, it’s just her and I, the world around us since forgotten. The dragon does something to my surprise, she cranes her neck where the tip of her snout touches the floor. She is bowing to me. The message is clear, a sign of mutual respect.

Thump, Thump.

She raises her head but keeps it low as she cranes her neck out for me. I cannot even see her eyes as she comes near and presses her snout to my chest. The chatter amongst the crowd is indistinguishable. I press my hand to her snout, her scales feel like leather under my touch, a smile forms on my cheeks, fear suddenly turning into elation. “Hello, Beautiful.” My voice was unable to reach above a whisper. She huffs in response and moves back to where she was perched before.

Adrenaline must be widdling from my body fast because I grip Ridoc’s shoulder tightly as my world tilts.

Thump, Thump.

I just survived my first encounter with a dragon.

To Be Continued..

Story Tags: @milswrites @eve175 @marvelsmylife @sherayuki @misslady246 @thelov3lybookworm @a-frog-with-a-laptop @randomperson1234sblog @garricks4thwingqueen

[ciaonicole85]

ESCAPING INTO A SHIP

So what exactly made me latch onto the Sydcarmy ship like a leech on a water buffalo?

It was unexpected (for me)! Yes, the very first meeting between Syd and Carm did make an impact. I thought "Oooh, what's this?!" However, Carmy was/is such a mess that I quickly dismissed it. And Sydney just seemed to want his professional approval and a partner in making something great after the soul-crushing failure of Sheridan. So, the first season I personally didn't feel a mutual sexual/romantic tension, more like an automatic respect and shared goals/passions. Sydney nor Carm were obviously trying to flirt. Most slow burns on TV are 100% obvious like a Jeanine and Gregory (Abbott Elementary), Nick and Jess (New Girl), Jake and Amy (Brooklyn 99), Jim and Pam (The Office)...Until Braciole Ep. 8 that is.

S. 1 Episode 8- I won't get into everything but Carmy was desolate. Yes, he became a psycho chef and two people quit in Ep.7. However, he mourned Sydney more than Marcus. She was in his flashback/nightmare (?), then the way he told Tina that she looked like Syd (the poor pup), him texting her before opening the note from Mikey, and finally the most gorgeous locked gaze scene since Pride and Prejudice (2005). The soft lighting, the music, the colors, the mind-reading...magical. I still didn't get it initially. Silly, blind me.

Mentorship where??? Season 2 Carm and Syd's "mentorship" dynamic is pretty much over. They are true partners and spending more time together. They're dressing alike even when not in uniform, finishing each other's sentences or talking in unison. Sydney is opening up more of herself and Carm is asking to know more. They use the ASL sign for sorry with each other and no one else until ep 10. Then there's that locker scene in ep. 1 or 2, when they almost hang out just cause. However, Carmy misses the moment and there's the return of the kicked pup face. Before being on the ship I was delighted with all of their scenes and was looking forward to the food tour. They just ROCK together on screen.

Classic Love Triangle- Who's Claire? She's "Claire Bear", the prototypical "cool girl", who is willing to chase an socially awkward, wrong-number-giving man, despite being a pretty ER resident with no shortage of options. Did a CW writer get hired? Anyways, why was her presence used almost exclusively to put strain on Carmy and Sydney's relationship instead of The Bear generally? We could have had scenes with Nat, Richie, and Marcus arguing with Carmy about him being distracted due to Claire. They saved 99% of that for Sydney. They CHOSE to insert her in between or just after scenes with him and Claire. Showing Sydney's tattoos and her getting dressed with the stained chef's coat juxtaposed with them was WILD.

I LOVE that both believe their interpersonal problems are solely about The Bear/business partnership. In most "slowburns" the characters are far more conscious and actively work to keep things platonic. Jeremy might be a smidge aware that Sydney means more to him after the panic attack, but I bet he's shoved it down. All he knows afterward is that being with Claire feels wrong hence ignoring her call and recommitting to SYDNEY. He could of said "You all/This/The Bear deserve my full focus etc..." He was also nagged into greeting Claire at Friends and Family, seemed anxious when Fak brought her up right before The Table scene, and also while explaining that "she's great" to Sydney. He was at peace when focused on Sydney in the moment below.

The actors: Jeremy and Ayo's real life friendship is warms my soul and their chemistry onscreen is amazing. DON'T WASTE IT!!!

Jeremy smolders on screen. I want to see Carmy continue to stare, yearn, fall, then eventually confess and for Sydney to reciprocate his feelings. Anyhoo, does anyone else melt when Carm means business?! They do this twice in season one and it's not good for me. Whew, I need to clean my whole house or run a few miles.

Finally, there's so many other parallels between these two. They are fearful avoidants, have a missing or dead parent, jacked up stomachs, use sarcasm, but are generally very earnest, they struggle with anxiety, are compassionate, are perfectionists, peace-makers, give people multiple chances, are workaholics...so much more. A lot of that is also ME, lol.

Sydcarmy is my Roman Empire. I love them as much as you can fictional characters and they deserve the most tender, angsty, triumphant, romantic best-friends to more love story.

[sitp-recs]

Thank you so much for your recs—they are fantastic! I wondered if you had any for Draco and Harry becoming friends at (and eventual lovers) at Hogwarts (doesn’t have to start with 1st year, but can!). Thank you!!

Hi there! Happy you’re enjoying the recs 😊 I got a couple recs, the majority is 8th year since I don’t really read canon rewrite AUs. I hope you enjoy these!

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by DorthyAnn (T, 5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

Good Company by Greenflares (T, 8k)

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry's return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn't exactly fun. Somehow, it's his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Stand Back: I'm About to Perform Archaeology by Blowfish_Diaries (E, 10k)

A new Muggle Studies professor takes the Eighth Year students to work on an archaeological excavation. In which Draco is lazy, Harry is sweaty, Hermione is drunk, and Ron turns red.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

Makes Me Stronger by Lomonaaeren (E, 29k)

Rita Skeeter’s Harry James Potter: An Unnatural History is a best-seller, mostly due to the fact that Skeeter’s collaborated with a photographer who’s infused the pictures in the book with Harry’s actual memories. As Harry struggles to survive the storm consuming his eighth year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy becomes an unexpected ally.

On Our Way by evils (E, 30k)

Draco is trying to spend the summer keeping his head down, but a repair project and a certain snowy owl have other plans for him.

Eager for the Sky by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

It was announced, just as the Triwizard Tournament had been, at the start of term feast. A year-long, international Quidditch varsity match — the inaugural Wizarding Academy Cup. In which Harry is Hogwarts' star Seeker, Draco is on the bench, and they both have a thing or two to learn about playing for the same team.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy (M, 67k)

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Helix by Saras_Girl (E, 93k)

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.

Changing Tides by carpemermaid (E, 109k)

Draco has spent half of his life spouting the things his father has taught him without much thought about how he feels about what he says. When he unexpectedly comes face to face with the Dark Lord, he grapples with the harsh realities of the world and struggles with his changing views on life.

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop (E, 114k)

Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him.

Twist of Fate by Oakstone730 (T, 300k)

Draco asks Harry to help him beat the Imperius curse during 4th year. The lessons turn into more than either expected. A story of redemption and forgiveness.

[pricefieldsuperiority]

Yearning Allegations - Pt.2

Part 1 can be found here

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn

Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?

The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.

Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.

Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.

You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.

"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"

You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.

"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?

Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.

"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"

You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.

Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.

"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.

You blink a few times.

"Nothing"

You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.

Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.

"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.

Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,

"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.

"Alright, alright, come here."

You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.

"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.

"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.

"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"

Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.

You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.

---

The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.

"Ughhhhh!!"

Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.

You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.

"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.

You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.

"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"

Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.

"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”

Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,

"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"

You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.

"Well, at least I'm good at League-"

Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.

"What the hell, Paige!"

You whine, and she just grins evily in response.

"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"

You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.

"Hey!"

Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.

"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.

After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.

Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.

"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.

"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.

You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.

Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other for a moment, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.

You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.

"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.

"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.

Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.

What the hell was that?

---

Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.

[krahk]

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

18+

Part Six

(Or, Alastor, snakes, and cannibals - oh my!)

The next morning Charlie wasn’t downstairs, and Vaggie looked like something kicked her dog. The vibes of the hotel were totally off. You had tried to ask the woman what had happened when she and Charlie had their meeting, but she was too upset to talk. Angel Dust and Husk were confused about what happened as well, and it was impossible to get to Charlie, she had barricaded herself in her room.

After 3 or 4 days you finally had enough and knocked incessantly on Charlie’s door, before she finally opened the door, eyes red and horns coming out of her head slightly. She looked like she had been crying all night, eyes puffy and bloodshot. You held up a bottle of wine and two glasses, shaking them back and forth. “Hey you! I think you need a break from…whatever it is you’re doing in here.”

Charlie opened her mouth, likely to tell you to go away, but you continued quickly, “We don’t even have to talk, but I think sometimes it's good not to be alone.” Charlie hesitated, her body slightly rocking back while her eyes went up in thought, debating on what she should do. She pushed the door open and walked towards her bed and sat crisscrossed on it. You closed the door with a flick of your hips and joined the princess on her bed, passing her a glass while you fought with the cork. Once the two of you had wine poured, it took a few sips before Charlie opened up.

”Have you ever had someone you love lie to you?” You snorted at the question, before realising the hurt on the woman’s face.

“Yes, for sure yes, probably everyone I’ve ever loved. They all do. But I also lived with humans forever, and I’m sorry to break it to you but a lot of them think that little lies to save someone from a little hurt now grows into something massive that hurts a lot later. Unfortunately, you only learn not to do it from experience. Is this person who lied to you…usually a liar? Or are you confident they aren’t still lying to you?”

Her eyes became glossy with tears as she swirled her wine glass. “I don’t know. I thought I knew this person but it turns out they were lying about everything that they were. I’ve spent the last few years of my life with them and now I’m not sure any of it was real.”

Okay, she was clearly talking about Vaggie. Because everyone else was pretty much new to her life, this would have to be a delicate conversation. What on earth was she lying about? You had to tread lightly and be vague, but hopefully helpful. “Do you think they lied to hurt you? Like wanting to make sure you hurt?” You asked. Good, steady start there. Charlie thought for a second. “I don’t think so?”.

“Okay, is it a new lie or an old lie?” No thinking required, Charlie responded with “Old lie. Right away lie. Like as soon as I met them lie.” Hmm. You took a second to think about your experiences, wanting to give good advice to her, as she deserved it entirely.

“Were they scared? Like look back on your first meeting.” You tried to remember if Vaggie and Charlie had ever talked about their meeting, but all you knew for sure was that they have met around 3 years ago during extermination. Charlie released a large sigh, and a tear fell down her cheek. “I mean, probably? There was a lot going on.”

“Okay, and did they know who you were? Like, not your name, but your position, status, etcetera?” It was good the demon was opening up, her voice sounded hoarse from crying and a lack of use. You filled up Charlie’s glass which was emptied from a large gulp. “No. No idea.” You nodded at her response and met her eyes with a soft smile.

“Okay, that sounds to me that the lie first happened because they were scared. Lies grow, and lies from fear only make a person more scared. It sounds like they might have been unsure on how to tell you the truth, because whenever the time was right they didn’t want you to hurt - probably because they loved you. Love makes us complicated and stupid, Charlie. It’s one of the reasons why it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s also why it exists in all factions of life and death. You can probably thank your dad for that actually, free will has a huge part in it.”

Charlie gave you a strained smile in return, but it was clear she was still unsure. “I’m not telling you to forgive right away, but if this is the first person who has lied to you in your life so far, that’s pretty good. People obviously try to be the best version of themselves around you - they can’t help it. That’s why it’s great of you to try and do this program! Nobody wanted to let you down, you’re too pure a soul. Especially down here,” You laughed, and gave her a rib nudge with your elbow. Silence took over as the two of you finished off the bottle. Eventually Charlie started pulling at the threads on her comforter, and you took that as a sign to give her some space.

”Hey, I hope you feel a bit better, I’m just a floor away from you if you ever need to chat, or paint each other's nails…hooves,” You corrected, glancing at her feet. Charlie laughed lightly, and gave you a smile. Not quite as big as you were used to from the woman, but still brighter than when you first came in. “I’ll let you get back to moping, sometimes laying in bed crying and being sad is therapeutic. It reminds you what makes you happy. I hope this…helped?” You inquired. Charlie nodded her head and said her thanks, crawling back under her covers.

You collected the glasses and empty bottle and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly as you left. When you had returned to the kitchen to put the items in the sink, you caught the last bit of whatever broadcast Alastor was on. You made tea while the instrumental song played, filling the kitchen with a comforting sound.

Alastor ended his show with a polite goodbye, your tea was steeping and you thought about the conversation you just had . You felt okay about the advice you gave Charlie, and honestly hoped it was helpful to her. With less than a month before the guaranteed extermination, everyone needed to be in their best headspace. As you tried to go out the swing door it opened abruptly, knocking your tea out of your hand, and smacking you into the nose, resulting in teary eyes and your hands covering your face as you grimaced in pain and groaned from the impact. The cup shattered on the ground and tea splattered everywhere.

Cursing, you started to look down to help with the nose bleed, and a black and red hand came into view, holding a handkerchief. You grabbed it and pressed it into your face as you slowly rose your eyes up to see Alastor standing there, matching handkerchief against his own nose. He gave a disgruntled hmm as he looked down at you. You backed up back to a stool and sat down, spinning to put your elbows on the counter to keep pressure on your face.

Alastor had simply vanished his microphone and walked over to the kettle, which was still warm. He began to fix himself a tea and held up the kettle asking silently if you needed a new cup. Politely accepting his offer, he started to make you one as well. In a moment the two of you were seated opposite one another, nursing tea and letting the pain on your face diminish.

After snapping away the mess on the floor, he had conjured some sort of newspaper and was reading it, sipping his tea politely. You held the warm cup between your hands and found yourself constantly drifting your eyes to his person. He truly was unlike anything or anyone you had ever met, there was something simply fascinating about his character. The features that once scared you for being unusual now made you linger about how wonderfully unique they were. While his smile when wide was still spooky, there were a few times you caught him with a real smile. Like when Mimzy popped in, or whenever you noticed him and Nifty speaking with one another on their own. Even now, as he read the paper, his smile was small, but seemingly genuine. Like he was just decompressing from a hard day at work.

You glanced up to his face to realise he was staring back at you. When your eyes connected a sharp jolt of shock ran through you. How long had he watched you staring at him? Hopefully just a second. Maybe you could blame disassociation and staring into the void causing the uncomfortable staring. However, where you thought would be anger, or disapproval, was just curious acknowledgment. You both openly stared at each other, and somehow it wasn’t quite as awkward as it had been in the past. It was like a mutual new discovery, both just looking to learn or understand the creature in front of you.

Suddenly the door swung open so hard it hit the wall, and Vaggie had entered, clearly on a mission the two of you watched the woman scramble some food together before leaving the kitchen in a rush. She looked just as bad as Charlie did. You turned your head to meet Alastor’s gaze once more, his eyes already fixated on you. You coughed into your hand and realised your tea had cooled down significantly. How long had you two stared at one other? You rose up and intended to say goodnight, but Alastor had reached over to grab your cup, put it in the sink and turned around with a small bow and offered his arm to you.

“Would you care for an escort madam?” You laughed at his ‘performance’ voice, accepting his offer. The two of you headed up the stairs in silence, but you were thrilled that the two of you were capable of being in a silence other than awkward. This was a huge development as far as you were concerned. He walked you to your door as you unlocked it and turned around to face him while you opened the door. As you began to say goodnight, you noticed a small blush on his face before you felt the familiar burn across your own. Did he blush first this time? Usually it was you, right? You stuttered out a thank you, dipped your head down a bit just as he had taken a small step forward, resulting in your ears brushing past his chin, causing both of you to shudder. Blushes now bright, you repeated your thanks.

“Thank you for the tea, Alastor. And the escort. A true gentleman. ”You curtseyed lightly. He nodded at your words, putting a fist to his lips to cough lightly and break the strange tension that had suddenly built up between the two of you.

“A gentleman never leaves a lady in the dark, darling. Sleep well.’’ Before stepping backwards towards his own door, turning around on his heel to go through the threshold of his own room. As you closed your own door and began your nightly routine, you went over the strange night and moments just shared with the Radio Demon. What was up with the sudden flip in behaviour? Was this a part of his payback? And if so, why did it feel like a jolt of arousal surged through you when your ears hit his chin? Was that you, or his?

And these were the thoughts that plagued you before sleep, resulting in a restless night indeed.

After a few days (and Angel nosing about) the lie had finally spread through the hotel. Vaggie was an ex-exterminator, which explained why Charlie was so burdened with grief. Terribly discovered via Adam in Heaven, right after the Seraphim’s had decided plausibility that a soul could be redeemed. It was obvious Charlie had taken it like a punch to the gut. Still, though this was a peculiar situation in general, it did not explain why Lucifer, AKA the unknown number, was calling you first thing on a weekday morning. You were in bed, still half-awake, while the obvious genetic contributor to Charlie’s speed talking and manic tangents was bombarding you with all sorts of questions about the girl. You let him get all he had to say out of him before responding, hoping everything would catch up to your brain.

”-and that’s why I’m calling you because I know girls talk canyoutellmeanythingaboutwhatisgoingon??” He expelled a large gust of air from his lungs that had clearly been building during his rant, and you waited a couple of seconds before responding groggily.

“Lemme get this straight-”

“Uh-Huh!”

“Charlie isn’t responding to you, so you’ve called your way through the hotel, but I’m the only one who answered,”

“…Yes”,

“And you’re expecting me to just break whatever trust I’ve built with her to tell you what she’s feeling?”

A pause. “Um, yeeess?” He could tell you were unimpressed with his remark, and you could imagine the face he was making through the phone. You heard a soft slap, the sound of someone hitting his own face, which was well deserved.

“Yea, sir, Mr…Morningstar Devil sir, what you’re suggesting is a huge breach of trust to someone who is trying to deal with that exact thing from another close person to her. You’re just going to have to wait until she reaches out. She probably knows you’ve called and messaged her, and that alone is enough for her to know that you care.”

Silence.

“I promise, as a girl with my own daddy issues, forcing yourself into her life is not a great idea. It’ll likely push her away because she’ll feel like you’re trying to say she can’t figure this out on her own, which is exactly what she needs to do right now. Do I make sense?”

A sigh came out, and he hummed through the phone. “Stop pouting sir, you’re a bit above that, I think.”

”Uh-pfft, ah- rude. I am not pouting!”

“Mmhmm. Sure my guy. How about, I tell you what I know she does like, and you can have it delivered to the hotel, or someone can bring it to her door, a kind gesture can go a long way. Also, it is not an invasion of privacy.”

”Ah. So perhaps I shouldn’t tell you I’m outside the hotel?”

Oh for absolute shits sake. “You’re joking, right? Ha-ha? Funny guy?” Fingers crossed, but for the king of demons you could tell he was pretty terrible at lying.

“I won’t tell you then, but maybe don’t look outside. At least for another like, 10 minutes until I’m out of sight, god what was I thinking I’m an idiot- Hey! Why don’t you just show me what she likes? Maybe I’ll see why she’s so eager to save these unfortunate souls.” He was excited now. Could one say no to the devil? Should you even ask? “I mean…I guess?” You answered hesitantly, kind of hoping he would pick up on the not so subtle tone of someone who really didn’t want to go.

”Oh good! I was worried you would say no. To the Devil. The King of Hell. Lord of the Pride Ring” Ah yes, one does in fact not say no to the devil. You groaned inwardly, allowing a soft sigh out. “I’ll be down in a second, I have to get dressed.”

“Yay!”

Slamming your room door while hopping on one foot trying to get the second shoe on your foot you came a little too close to the wall and bumped into it, making a photo on it clatter loudly. This resulted in Alastors door opening up. He took in your appearance, nice but not too nice with a simple white cotton dress featuring a modest hemline, thin straps on your shoulders and a full circle skirt that ended right above your knees.

You were finally successful in slipping on your short red boot with a white toe & heel, which just edged the outfit into something a little fancier. You stood up straight and rubbed your elbow, the main victim of your impact with the wall. You laughed, slightly embarrassed that he caught the tail end of another clumsy moment, which did nothing for the worry the two of you had with basic survival in Hell. He gestured to your person with his microphone, eyebrow raised as he questioned your attire. For one who wore all black leisure wear most days, this was obviously a ‘going out’ look.

Ah, yes. Lucifer wasn’t Husk, but surely a safe person to walk around hell with, right? “Mr. Morningstar…the King? Lucifer?” What the hell were you supposed to call him? Both of Alastors brows raised at the mention of his name but he allowed you to continue, “Mr whatever he is. He wants to get Charlie something to cheer her up. But I think the both of us can agree that he probably isn’t the best to go grab her something on a whim. He asked for my help, and I’m pretty sure ‘yes’ or ‘yes sir’ were the only two acceptable answers for the ruler of Hell.” You shrugged your shoulders, waiting for Alastors reaction.

You expected snarky comments about Lucifer, you did not expect him to grip his microphone so hard his knuckles would be white if his hands weren’t black and a sharp, thin smile of disapproval. He was easier to read when he was mad, so you picked up on this vibe immediately.

“Is that so?” His voice slightly above condescending, “And he asked our little lost Doe for help? Our newest acquisition of the hotel? Out of all of Hell in general? Peculiar!” You made a tight lipped face, frowning in return.

“Alastor, I’m the only one who answered the phone. So really, I’m the last one who picked up. Trust me, I’m not overly pleased with it but I feel like I can’t say no. He doesn’t seem the type to take it very well.”

”And if I were to say you cannot go?” He remarked, looking towards the stairs now.

”Uhh. I am…not sure? I guess tell him that you don’t want me going and let him brew why I would listen to what you wanted? Again Alastor, he doesn’t seem like the most understanding person when it comes to not going with his plans. He is the King of Hell, and ‘Lord of the Pride’ realm.” The last bit said with a bit of a lofty attitude paired with finger quotes.

Alastor was clearly processing your statement, and it was hard for him to admit you were likely correct. What a pain. Lucifer was an absolute moron, unfit to be a father, unfit to be king. But he was top dog right now, and Alastor was not. “Perhaps I will join the two of you, to ensure no distracting detours take place. I am concerned his appearance will garner unwanted attention.”

Oh, that was a good point, and you let Alastor know. You invited him to come down, grabbing an apple on the way out the door. You were squinting your eyes looking around for the King, where you spotted a very white snake wearing a top hat wrapped around the gate. He was not one for blending in, not at all.

“There you are!” The snake said, slithering to the ground to come beside you. “You certainly like to make a man wait!” Your eyes rolled, and Alastor coughed, cutting into the conversation. The snake hissed, unimpressed with his presence. “Why is he here? I thought you were helping me?”

“Look, Alastor has known Charlie longer than me, and he is interested in making sure we find the right thing for her. His knowledge on this matter is invaluable.” What the Hell was going on. Was Lucifer jealous?

“Well, I’m not happy about it, always inserting himself where he isn’t wanted!” Alastor was behind the two of you, Lucifer slithering until the three of you made it down the hill out of the hotel’s view. You looked at him and scrunched your face a bit. He was a lot to take in. Alastor was right, he would likely bring unwanted attention. “Um…sir, do you have a disguise? Charlie will probably hear on the news that Lucifer is shopping for his daughter, this would probably be best as a surprise?” Please change form, please change form, please -

Oh thank god. He changed into a black goat-man hybrid thing, goat eyes and all. You noticed his horns in their natural state were larger than Alastors, Yang the two of you made eye contact with mutual understanding. Overcompensation. You coughed out a laugh, and grumbled out any remaining chuckles at his expense. Alastor, as always, needed to get an edge in however and had no issue pointing it out. “Making up for something? Those are mighty large horns for someone who has such a fine, delicate physicality like yours.” Alastors face was filled with glee, the fire in his eyes lighting up Lucifers. They stared at each other and you could feel the static from their clashing gazes.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be concerned, I am the King of Hell, after all. I think that means I can have big horns. Big, beautiful, horns. Sorry that your horns or…er, antlers aren’t as impressive. But you make them work for you and your ridiculous ears!” Alright, that was enough now, you needed to interject this ridiculous headbutting or else it would go on forever.

“Al~right! One, I take offence to the ear remark, we didn’t have a choice. Two, whip ‘em out for the world to see so we can put a period in this pissing contest, and three, I’m starving, this apple has a worm in it because of course it does, and bet your ass I am going to be the scariest damn thing on this street unless I get food in me so let's get going.”

You had crossed your arms and tapped your little boot on the street, thankfully with a well timed growl from your stomach. Lucifer scowled and turned to stomp down the street, barely containing his hissy fit. Alastor couldn’t help but smile at your outburst, you were quite adorable when you tried to boss people around. However one thing had confused him -

“My dear, what am I to ‘whip out’?” He asked as he gestured for you to start walking, him matching your stride and sticking by your side. Oh Jesus Murphy no. He was, like, a century old. This wasn’t new slang, was it? A couple of times you had to educate him on a few newer idioms, generally funny little cute things regarding stuff that took place long after he died, but this was just…not great. “Uuuh. Hmm. How can I put this without bursting into flames?”

You pondered, tapping your chin and mentally patting yourself on the back for not having done so already, “Think about what is required for one to ‘piss’ and perhaps how that could be used to measure such a thing and compare it to perhaps another persons…thing?” Oh such a good beginning only to tank it at the end. Alastor only hmm’d at your statement, glancing at his reflection in the windows as you walked by, Lucifer still ahead of the two of you kicking stones like a toddler.

“Well, I generally do enjoy entering in contests I know I will win, however I am not interested in learning what divine punishment may come upon me for utterly destroying the Devil’s self confidence. Let us consider him lucky that I am in a charitable mood this morning.” He was looking ahead, but his smile was certainly one of the cat that got the canary. You laughed, earning a small chuckle in return, and accepted his crooked arm by weaving your own and meeting his elbow with yours.

The two of you walked behind Lucifer as he tried to order the two of you to walk faster, he was in a hurry. Alastors grip was strong, and he shook his head as you tried to pick up the pace. It wouldn’t be until later that night that in no uncertain terms, Alastor definitely had just told you he was absolutely packing down under.

Spending the morning and early afternoon babysitting Lucifer was one of the worst jobs you ever had. He was all about grand statements, shiny, expensive things. Nothing about the things he wanted to get would interest Charlie. She would certainly say thank you and accept it to not hurt his feelings, but it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

Eventually his steam wore out, and while Alastor was occupied window shopping, bored of your many questions to this royal pain in the ass. “Sir, we’ve been over this. What do you know she likes. Even if it isn’t something we can get.”

“I told you! I only remember things she liked as a kid…and even then I don’t have faith she still likes to eat crayons and cut her own hair.” He sat down on the curb, head in his hands. “I really am a bad father, aren’t I? God, how did I think this would work.” You sat down beside him, patting his back, mindlessly offering support. A group of bull demons walked by and cat-called you, resulting in you rolling your eyes and Lucifer snapping them into bugs. Ah, to have such power over douchebags would be wonderful.

“Really, I don’t know why she wants to redeem some of these people. I understand why she loves you all so much, you’re all alright for sinners. Well, most of you…” He trailed off, looking to Alastors direction. His face held disgust before you realised what he had said.

“That’s it! Oh my god, I have an idea!” You were excited at what was going to happen. “can you conjure anything?” You asked the forlorn angel.

“Pretty much, yea. Living things is a generally a no, why?” You rattled off your idea, Lucifer's eyes brightening excitedly and jumping up with joy with the prospect of creating Charlie’s gift. Why had none of you thought of him making something until now? You relayed the gift to Alastor, and even he was unable to deny the predicted success of your idea. Lucifer said he would need to workshop it, but it wouldn’t take him too long to finish it. You sent him a few things via text message before he disappeared, clearly off to work his magic. A text hit you back right after he left, where he thanked you and left a winky emoji, and a heart. The man was a menace, for sure. Alastor looked at your phone while you responded with a thumbs up and tilted your head up to your left side to meet Alastor’s gaze. He didn’t seem too pleased with the familiarity Lucifer appeared to have with you, but honestly - no way, no how. Lucifer was just…full of love, mostly. Charlie had to get it from somewhere and if her mother could ditch her so easily you doubted she got it from that side.

“I think it’ll be adorable, I’m excited to see it complete. I hope he pays attention to the pictures.” You were breaking the silence, unsure of how the rest of the day would go now that you and Alastor had been left alone. He nodded before asking you to join him to meet a friend. He said he needed to catch up with an old friend, but you might enjoy her (her?) company as well. So, having faith it was harmless, the two of you walked towards his mystery destination, enjoying each other's company, honestly.

When your face paled at the sign reading ‘Cannibal Town’, Alastor laughed at you. “Re~lax! They are perfectly polite here, they do not simply pounce and consume! They prefer one to be dead before consumption. And you, my dear, are very much alive.” He still linked arms with you and pulled you close to keep you comfortable, as some of the locals licked your lips as the two of you walked by. Finally, when the two of you approached a large gazebo in the heart of town, Alastor announced himself to the actual tallest woman you had met. Impeccably dressed, as well. Her name was Rosie, and she was hilarious. It was clear she and Alastor had a long standing friendship filled with mutual respect. The woman had the two of you served with tea and while seated, took her time grilling you with questions.

”Now Alastor, is this the little thorn in your side? The other half to your coin? She’s an absolute doll!” She clapped her hands towards you and smiled wide. Alastor confirmed her theory, and that was when you knew Rosie was to be trusted completely. If Alastor spoke such secrets with her he clearly had nothing to worry about here. It was nice to be around such generous and lively company after your past few hours with a selfish baby. Rosie ate up a large part of your afternoon right into the evening, before politely wishing you a safe trip home.

“Wonda-ful to meet you Darling! Visit me anytime, I know he’s a handful!” Rosie shouted as she waved you off, resulting in you laughing at Alastors expense. ”She’s wonderful Alastor, thank you for introducing me.” Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, nodding in confirmation to your statement. “Rosie is a safe place if your safety is ever compromised. She was here before me so we have known each other for a long while. It was no accident I wanted the two of you to meet.”

You nodded, knowing he was more concerned for his own safety than yours. You weren’t hurt by the knowledge, not really, but for some reason the thought brought your mood down. And unfortunately the two of you were getting much better at picking up on each other's moods lately, and he remarked on it, stopping to look at you with what might have been concern, but was more likely frustration. “Have I said something untowards?” He asked, politely waiting for you to answer.

“No, I was just thinking that…hopefully Lucifer does a good job on Charlie’s things. I really want it to turn out, she really deserves it.” His silence and narrowed eyes let you know he was aware you were hiding something. But it had been a wonderful day, and he allowed the urge to call you out to pass. You yawned suddenly, surprised that you could be tired even though it was still light out. “Well, we should continue my dear. I suggest we take the express!” Alastor exclaimed, grabbing you very close, hands on both sides of you, bringing you close. Then suddenly you were absorbed by his shadows and it felt as if you were sinking but being pulled out at the same time. By the time the world around you stopped moving you realised that he used his shadow magic to spit the two of you into the hallway between your hotel rooms.

Not entirely unpleasant but not really something you were looking to use as a main form of travel anytime soon. Alastor walked you the 6 steps to your door and the two of you had another minor staring contest, the silence thick, but your heartbeat pounding in your head. Or perhaps it was Alastors heartbeat, as he was still quite close to you. “I commend you on your brainchild from earlier, why I do believe it is something that even Lucifer Moriningstar can accomplish!” You opened your door and smirked at his comment.

“You better be careful, you’re essentially insulting Charlie by proxy, that is her father after all, I think we both learned how similar they can be today.” Alastors familiar laugh was followed up by radio laughter, something he only saved for what you figured was ‘true funny’. “Have a good night Alastor!” You slowly entered, holding the handle behind you as you thought about a foolish fantasy. It was so quiet, and you turned your head back around, only to meet the Radio Demons glowing eyes. Awe fuck me! You should have just walked in and shut the door like a smart person.

Alastor was suddenly right behind you, your head still turned around so sharply that you body had started to make the same turn. Alastor whispered into your ears, and it made your whole body break out in a sensual chill. “I believe you owe me something, darling.” He said in a low, breathy manner. His voice shot straight down to your core. Your jaw, opening and closing in awe, had him interrupting your thoughts once more. “A thank you would be grand, considering I was on my best behaviour!”

Holy shit were you glad he followed up his statement with what he wanted right away, because your mind went straight into the gutter”. A small mouthed ‘O’ fell on your lips and you turned your body around so you were facing him entirely now. You did a small curtsy, and said your polite and proper goodbyes. He bowed slightly before grabbing your chin and filled most of the gap, leaning in softly saying “good girl” basically right into your ear. Was that a moan, did you moan? Judging by the insane smile that filled his face, you had indeed. He backed his head up slightly to catch your eyes, and the two of you sported twin blushes and deep breathing. Somehow in the tete a tete happening between the two of you, you had grabbed the lapel of his coat while he still held your chin in place. He was so close to you it felt as if you were breathing in each other's air. You were certain it was only a moment but time felt as if it had slowed down. Your lips were just a hair apart now, and you could surely feel each other's faces burning. What was happening?

When a door down the hall clicked you both shot back from one another, Alastor wiping his hand down the front of his jacket as he walked backwards to his room, nodding a hello to Angel Dust as he stomped down the stairs. You said nothing, focusing on settling your heart rate, clutching one hand above your heart. And once again the two of you were alone, but the moment had passed. You gave him a small smile and said a quiet goodnight as you went into your room and closed the door, forcing yourself to not look back. Once the door was closed, you leaned against it, head propped against it as you looked up to the ceiling. What was happening to you?

Outside the door it sounded like Angel had returned, as a string of angry italian was being shouted in the hallways. There was a knock at your door. You opened it wide, expecting to see the tall spider demon. “Ang-“ suddenly there was a hand fisted into your hair, another wrapping around your waist, and Alastor had captured your mouth with his, enveloping you entirely.

The impact had your heart nearly explode with shock and your body surged with arousal immediately. The kiss was strong, desperate, and long. Seconds, moments, minutes -who cared. The two of you fought your lips against another, him inserting his long tongue into your mouth, gripping you tighter as he almost bent you in half, Alastor kissed you like a man possessed. You moaned into his mouth as he swallowed you whole. Your hands had come up to his collar to pull him in harder, and nothing but sucking and wet lips were heard for a moment. As quickly as it happened it ended, Alastor straightening out his jacket as he looked you over. You could imagine how tousled you looked. The overstimulation of the physical connection had the two of you breathing hard.

”Well, that certainly went a touch different than I expected,” Alastor started, licking his lips of the blood present. Had one of you bit a lip? Or bit the other's lip? Oh god, what the hell just happened. “My apologies for losing control of myself there dear, but usually a gentleman offers a lady a kiss goodnight after a night out.” He bowed to you again, his professional gentlemanly persona returned. You only nodded in agreement and he took his leave, giving a quick wave as he shut his door behind him.

Standing there for a few minutes easily you just couldn’t get over that your pussy was throbbing, and the sensation was not letting up. In fact, it felt like it was building up. Was he? Your eyes flew wide open as you slammed the door and jumped into bed, stripping your clothes off rapidly before laying under the covers and allowing the quick buildup of desire take over you. You were wet, soaked, and your hips were shifting in an attempt to add friction to the mix, but you were close enough just thinking about what the man across the hall was doing. Because of you. You finally placed your middle finger onto your clit and hissed at the contact. You were so hot with desire your hips bucked once pressure was applied. In return you could feel a second wave of buildup happening, and you moved your finger to match the pace. As you pinched one nipple to a hard nub and pulled at it you came, and you came hard. An animalistic groan escaped you as your orgasm took over, sending a shock through your system. Your body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

As your hand came to rest on the bed beside your hip, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling again. You had just had the most intense mutual masturbation orgasm with a demon. In the next room. On another level due to the blood magic the two of you were wrapped up in. You yawned, deciding it really didn’t matter at that very moment, you had eternity to focus on this strange path life had taken you on.

You bundled up in the blankets, body spent and mind exhausted, smiling as you drifted off to sleep.

____________

Remember, slow burn.

Also, I want to thank @hazelfoureyes for inspiring me to materialize my brainchild! Read her stuff, it’s honestly the best. Like, I’ve re-read it 6 times already the best. All of it.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @midorichoco @alastorssimp @xalygatorx

[cannedpickledpeaches]

Insert Your Name (11)

Mafia!Jade Leech x Mafia!Reader

Link to part one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten!

Notes and TW: Congratulations! You have successfully made it all about you (positive). This series will have mentions of blood, violence, crime (kidnapping, attempted assassination, extortion), and harassment, as one might expect from a mafia AU. Please enjoy!

Sorry that the tags haven't been working for the past couple of posts! I had to go in and edit the html for each individual one T-T please forgive me

Tags: @guava-enjoyer @itszzmoon @twstsandturns @myteacupisempty @rou-luxe @chikitasmol @night-shadowblood-writes2 @haveneulalie @owodi

A strange sense of satisfaction fills you as surprise fills the man’s face, but you don’t show it. You need to see this through. If you’re powerless in the face of his ability, you simply need to borrow his power. So what if he’s akin to a god? All you need to do is bring him to your side. Whoever that author is, whoever took over (Y/N)’s body—maybe they aren’t capable of using such an asset effectively. However, you’re confident you won’t let that advantage go to waste.

The man hums in thought. “I suppose it could be done without much fanfare. I would simply need to shift my attention to your experiences and abandon the current story. However, you would need to have your story recorded somewhere, in whatever form you may wish for it to take.”

You understand what he’s getting at. A story needs a medium, just like that manuscript. There are many options: on film, as a novel, as a collage of pictures. No strict rules exist for expression of self.

“I’ll keep a journal. Every day, I’ll write an entry, and I’ll also use it as a planner. This way, my ‘story’ will have the events that occurred in my life, how they affected my ‘character development,’ and also outline how I expect the story to ‘progress.’ Is that good enough?”

You still don’t think of yourself as a fictional character. You’re real, in every aspect, to yourself. But that doesn’t matter right now. Functionally, you’re a character to this man. You’ll use that assumption to put yourself in the most advantageous position.

“Yes, that would be a rather interesting way to tell your story. There are indeed many stories that were written in the form of diary entries, so this is not an issue at all. This would, in fact, make things easier for me. I would not have to go through the paperwork and expend energy to bring someone from another world since you already exist in Twisted Wonderland as an established character. There is just one thing you should know before you make this decision.”

“Tell me.” Of course there are strings attached. There always are. You prepare yourself. Self-sacrifice in small amounts is necessary, of course, but if there’s anything you can negotiate with . . . .

“I will have to take the previous author’s soul out of (Y/N)’s body. (Y/N)’s soul will regain control of her own body, since it was never removed, only dormant. Since the author’s original body cannot function without a soul, she cannot return to her world. It will disappear, never to be recovered, lost to the fabric of what forms this space. Are you still willing to proceed?”

“Is that it?” You expected something else. This has nothing to do with you giving up anything. In fact, it could even be considered a bonus. This woman whose story made your life and relationships exceedingly difficult will disappear down to the traces of her soul. It’s an easy decision. “Of course.”

“How cold-hearted you are.” He chuckles down at his teacup. It never seems to drain empty no matter how he sips it. “That is not an undesirable quality in protagonists, although they often do not have a happy ending in fairytales.”

“Is that supposed to deter me or something?” You stay resolute. “My future was always uncertain no matter if it’s a story or not. I’m in the mafia. I’ve come to terms that horrible things could happen at any moment because of the nature of my job a long, long time ago. It’s my responsibility to plan so that I reduce those chances as much as possible. And you’re going to help me.”

“Yes, I am.” He glances at the fireplace, which has burned down to glowing red embers. “Perhaps you should count yourself lucky that you are under my jurisdiction. I am partial to tragic endings, but I also do not mind if an amoral character triumphs in the end. Some of my peers would adamantly ensure it does not happen.”

You furrow your brows. This is not the first time he brought up something being under his “jurisdiction.” However, this is the first time he’s mentioned “peers” instead of “characters.”

“There are others like you?”

“Yes, of course. Twisted Wonderland is filled with too many stories for me to manage on my own. Since you are mainly involved with the Leech Mafia and stories of the Coral Sea, you fall under my jurisdiction.”

It makes sense. This man compared himself to a god, but he isn’t one. He isn’t omnipotent or omniscient.

“Who are they?”

He tilts his head. “You would not know us even if I told you.”

“I’m curious. Tell me anyway.”

“Such a curious character.” He glances at the embers again. “Alright, I see no harm in it. My peers overseeing Twisted Wonderland include Walt Disney, the Brothers Grimm, Hanna Diyab, Victor Hugo, and Lewis Carroll, among others.”

None of these names ring a bell. It is just a list of names, but having more information is never a bad thing.

“And your name? I should know how to address you.”

“Oh, I have not yet introduced myself to you? My apologies, I must be turning forgetful in my old age.” He laughs at himself in a good-natured manner. “My name is Hans Christian Anderson. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

You introduce yourself as well. He extends a hand to you. When your hands connect in a firm handshake, the new deal you’ve made feels solidified.

Anderson looks at the fireplace one more time. The light has died completely, the little room lit only by the moonlight pouring in the window. With a gentle but decisive clap of his hands, he stands from his armchair.

“That was a fruitful discussion, and I thank you for your patience and understanding. I fear time has run out, however, and so I will be sending you back shortly. I’ll place you right back where you came from: at the moment when I brought you here.”

“Hold on!” Too soon, too sudden. You still have so much to say. He holds up a hand, stopping your protests.

“If you’d like to communicate with me, simply write a request for it in your new journal. I wish you best of luck.”

And with that, the world goes white again.

This is the story of a girl whose name is no longer hers. A girl so common that she may as well be a faceless background character in another person’s story. A girl who wishes, more than anything, to be the protagonist of a love story that will sweep her off her feet and solve all her problems.

Her family is normal. Her friends, too. And so is she. It isn’t enough for her. The world inside that game she plays is so magical, so whimsical, so perfect. The characters are handsome, powerful, clever, funny, or rich, or some combination of those qualities. If she enters this world, surely all those wonderful characters would treat her as someone special. They’d love and revere her unconditionally. She pines for a man who would love her and her shortcomings in their entirety, no matter what she does.

The beauty about fictional characters is that because they are fictional, they can be whatever she wants them to be. She can wholeheartedly believe they’ll love her, and there is nothing wrong with that. But she isn’t satisfied with that alone. It needs to be real.

Desperately, she writes a story revolving around a faceless, flawless main character who she desperately wishes she could be. Everyday, the writing consumes her, dragging her into a fantasy of bliss. She begins to resent her reality. Nobody in real life will love her the correct way. Nobody can be as good as the characters she pours her love and headcanons on. She doesn’t consider how love can be gradual, nor does realize someone might have to get to know her before loving her. After all, in her fanfiction, the perfect mafioso loves her main character upon the first meeting and devotes himself with no questions asked. Isn’t that the ideal love?

One day, a miracle occurs. She meets a man who offers to make her story into her reality. Jumping on the chance to live her perfectly crafted life of happiness, she agrees. Finally. Finally, she will be loved the way she wants.

At first, everything went perfectly. Real life follows her fanfiction to the letter. Jade is charming, Floyd is endearing, and a string of coincidences leads her to meet Vil, another handsome bachelor. Love surrounds her at every turn. All she needs in this life are the handsome men who give her special treatment. After all, this body, this life—(Y/N)—was created by her, for her use. All of the previous relationships this body entertained no longer matter. They aren’t hers, anyway.

The polaroids that occupied her nightstand are probably in a landfill somewhere. The aesthetic was cute, befitting the tastes of a character she modelled after herself, but the person in them is irrelevant. Some side character she’s never going to see again. No matter; she’ll eventually replace those polaroids with cute photos of herself and her new love. (Y/N)—no, the placeholder—has served its purpose. It will not miss those useless decorations since it will never again have its own consciousness.

So where did it all go wrong? Perhaps it was wrong from the start. She should have cursed that old man for scamming her. Her happy ending was never a guarantee. How dare a throwaway side character upend her perfect, fairy tale ending? Is that even allowed? They’re all just characters anyway. How can they steal from a real person?

Until the very end, she couldn’t see anyone around her as anything other than characters in a story. Maybe if she did, she might have gotten the love she wanted. Now, she disappears, having never achieved the goal she so desperately grasped at. Like seafoam, her hopes and yearning for love bubbles and disappears.

Hans Christian Anderson places a book into an empty spot on one of his many shelves. He has always been fond of tragedies. As for this new story that’s unfolding . . . who’s to say how it will end? He’s a patient man. With a smile, he settles into an armchair and sips from a cup of tea. He’s looking forward to it. When it eventually ends, like all stories inevitably do, he’ll shelve it and find another story to bring to life.

The world suddenly flashes into focus. The sun’s dying embers flicker on the sea. Sand shifts between your toes. Fingers graze your neck. Before you can activate your Signature Spell, (Y/N) crashes into you and you both topple over into a bed of sand. Bloodlust raises the hairs on the back of your neck. But it isn’t coming from (Y/N). Instead, you instinctively wrap one arm around her and hold the other one out in front of you, shielding her from Jade.

“Wait, wait! Jade, it’s fine. I’m okay.”

He freezes. One of his hands stops a centimeter away from (Y/N)’s hair. She doesn’t react. Slowly, you lay back down, heaving a sigh. You shift her face to the side so that she doesn’t suffocate in your shoulder. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones, complementing the slow rise and fall of her ribs.

“See? She’s asleep.”

Jade furrows his brows. “I fail to understand. Most importantly, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, staring up at the stars that unveil themselves in the darkening sky. “I’m just a little tired.”

You explain everything to him. He seems skeptical, but eventually, he accepts it. He sits in the sand next to you, his hand covering yours. You pretend not to notice, but it offers a soothing calm to your exhausted mind.

“I’m sorry,” you say, glancing at his side profile. “Even if I write that Vil Schoenheit will cure your parents, it might not happen because of continuity issues. Maybe (Y/N) will still be able to convince him.”

“That’s alright.” He catches your gaze. “It would make the story progress more smoothly if we continue with our talks with Walrus.”

He accepted it so quickly. For that matter, so did you. You wonder briefly if there is something at play that makes you accept the reality of your situation as fact—if it’s because you’re a character after all—but that’s all speculation. Not worth your time and energy to figure out.

“Bottom line is, this is my story now. So I’ll make sure the curse on your parents is dispelled.”

“How reliable.” Jade gives you a gentle smile, one that causes an unfamiliar stirring in your chest. “Thank you. What would you like in recompense?”

You weren’t expecting him to offer anything at all. But since he offered, you aren’t one to refuse.

“Money.”

His quiet laughter blends in with the sound of rushing waves.

“No hesitation at all, I see. Of course, I will pay you adequately for your invaluable help.”

“I also want something else.” You fiddle with the strands of (Y/N)’s hair. “I’d like a vacation. Just a week or two after everything settles down so I can go back to my hometown with my mom.”

“Is that what the money is for?”

“Yeah.” Your heart feels a little lighter. “You should visit the Coral Sea after your parents wake up as well. I’m sure you’ll want to spend time with them.”

A pause. You scrutinize Jade’s expression in the low light, but his expression is wholly unfamiliar to you. He almost looks . . . nervous.

“Would you come with us?”

You blink. “Don’t you want to spend time with just your family?”

“Yes, but my parents would be delighted to have you over again. You have not been to our home under the sea in a long time, and I would be more than happy to show you around again.”

“It won’t be a bother?”

“Far from it.” His thumb rubs softly against the back of your hand. “I . . . We are very fond of you.”

You can’t help but think there’s an ulterior motive, but you accept. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve travelled to their home under the sea, and this most likely won’t be the last.

Suddenly, (Y/N) shifts on your chest. A soft noise escapes her lips as though she’s finally awakened from a long nap. Her bleary eyes find yours. Kind, lovely, and gentle eyes. The eyes of the (Y/N) you know and love, the eyes of your friend.

“Huh? Are we on the beach? What happened?”

A relieved laugh bubbles out of your throat and you hug her tightly. Confused but sweet, she reciprocates with reassuring pats to your arm.

“Yeah, we’re on the beach. Let’s get you home.” You sit up and smile as she fusses over the sand in your hair. Normalcy is slowly but surely returning. “I’ll tell you everything on the way there.”

[caxde]

Ok, today is my birthday I just woke up and thought it would be a good idea to finally ask for the drable of bright eyes that I thought of Eddie having a campaign with the boys and girls and also Y/N but Lua wakes up and see them so she wants to play too so Y/N sits her in their lap and let's her play with her.

I love your work and you are one of my favourite authors 💙💖💙

omg!! happy (late) birthday babe!! hope it was a good one <33 thank you so much for the request and for reading and for being here haha, hope i made it justice <33

bright eyes universe drabble (2.3k)

“What would even be my name?” You tell him, almost in a tired wimp, your head hurting slightly. 

“Princess the Bard” He teases back, his head tilting to the right, his hair shaking in that hypnotic matter he knew you liked. 

“If everybody keeps calling me princess, you’ll have to come up with a new nickname.” You point back, looking over your shoulder so you can see the way his eyes plead back, while he follows you to the kitchen. 

“I can try a few…” He tries once again, he lets his body rest against his kitchen counter, waits for you to place your empty plate down on the sink, the soft ‘clinck’ sound links with his fingers graceing your waist. He grabs you softly, taking his time to first caress that little spot, before one of his fingers finds his way in one of your belt loops, pushing you to him from there. “Just, please? I don’t want you to go yet, and the few ones we’ve played you’ve been amazing…”

With just the way your eyes softened, darkened and then closed he knew he had been successful. He was biting back that stupid grin that made you smile in defeat every time you saw it. 

“Ugh… fine…” He had it on his face as soon as you gave in. Maybe out of excitement, maybe because you were hugging him once again. 

“C’mon, we’ll set the table then.” He gleamed, you just tried to muffle a laugh against his chest, enjoying the way his arms wrapped around you. 

He grabbed your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, he was the one that had a joyful cheerful aura now, excited that you’d stay longer, even better, playing with him. 

He had been talking about you finally joining him for a short, small one-shot campaign ever since he had caught you and Dustin going over the basics of the game. These last few days, though to be honest it had been two weeks, you and him had found a small window of time to be together, and you had spent it building your character, playing a few scenarios, making out before you left and painting. It had been fun, heavenly even, but you told him that it was because it was just the two of you, that you were a bit nervous about actually playing with his friends. He told you that they were just kids, but you made him remember that they were actually teenagers, which is a whole different situation, and that if you were to be their teacher someday, it would be weird. He laughed it off, brushed your hair out of your face and whispered “That’s kinnda hot” You punched him in his chest in a jokingly manner, but he reassured you, as he always did. 

You were nervously -perhaps a tint of anxiety on your movements could be seen- playing with the die on your hand. You sat down next to him, even if that spot was usually occupied with Dustin, he agreed to let you there, knowing just how excited Eddie was, and clocking your nervousness. 

“You guys ready to play some D&D?” Eddie asked, his hands moviming excitedly through the air. 

They all cheered. You looked at them, Mike was gleaming, Will was excitedly nodding, Lucas was drinking some soda, his mouth still smiling, and Dustin looked at you. He mouthed a you’re ready. 

That’s all you really needed for now. 

Consequently, Lua was having trouble remaining asleep. 

She was tossing and turning in her little bed, the quiet voices that left the living room seemed more appealing to her. She knew her dad had some friends over, and that she had to get some sleep, but she wanted to be near to him, and he wasn’t in his bed. 

So she did what every kid would have done. 

She got up, not minding her knotted hair, or the way her sleeping shirt was a bit too big on her. 

She tumbled around her room, opening the door that was left ajar as best as she could, trying to not make a sound. She kept walking following the sound of the warm voices that were gathered around the table. Her eyes finally opened up, and she smiled as soon as she saw you sitting next to her dad. 

She reached out, pulling your trousers down so you’d look at her. 

“Hi bud, what are you doing up?” You asked her, you reached down, she glowed as soon as he heard your voice, as bright and as soft as ever. 

“Can’t sleep.” She muttered, her hand scratching her eye, a little pout on her lips. 

You looked up at Eddie, and you saw the way his heart melted, and how he was starting to feel guilty about talking as loud as he had. 

“You wanna sit with me?” You asked her, opening your arms so she’ll decide on her own. 

You didn’t have to wait long. She threw herself on your arms, waiting for you to pull her up. You placed her down on your lap, your fingers gracing her hair, placing it a bit more neatly. Eddie’s heart was about to burst. 

The full table went quiet. 

They weren’t used to such an intimate moment of Eddie’s life. 

The little scene looked straight from a movie scene, a soft look shared between the both of you, while Lua just melted in your arms a bit more, pushing into you softly. 

“Can we continue?” Mike asked, the usual urgency in his voice remained the same. 

“Jesus.” Will whispered, the heels of his hands reaching for his forehead. 

“What?” 

“You really have the emotional range of a teaspoon sometimes, you know?” Lucas added, looking back at his friend, a look in his face that let you know this was something deeper than your little moment. 

“Okay, sorry.” Eddie muttered, a little smile to her little girl before he continued. “Your king has just experienced an assassination attempt, the guards have captured some suspects down in the dungeons. Princess, you said you wanted to do something?”  

Blood flew straight to her cheeks as soon as the attention was all on you. Lua decided to start playing with your fingers, as if she knew that doing that would help. 

“I have seen Sir.Deeptrut on the battleground, right?” Your eyebrows raised as you were talking, a confirmation on Eddie’s face let you know you were right. “And he’s one of the suspects… Could I go down to the dungeons and try to talk to him?” 

“You’ll have to make a persuasion check as soon as you get down there, just a heads up.” Will advised you. He had a calm voice, and was always trying to help. You could see just how much he cared, not only about the game, but about everyone that was sitting around the table. 

“Why?” You shook your head, your hair tickling Lua’s cheek, making her giggle. Eddie’s lips curved upwards, he felt himself falling in deeper and faster. 

“The guards.” Dustin pointed out, looking deep into you. “Unless you use disguise self, they’ll know it’s you, and they probably won’t let you pass. They just tried to uh…” He peered over at Lua, not really wanting to say that word, you just nodded. 

“I want them to know it’s me though…” You said back, the kids looked at you, each one of them with a weirder look on their face. “Trust me.” 

“You slowly walk down to the dungeons, and at first you realize the small amount of light that creeps in, even if it is a sunny day outside, it feels like midnight down here. The smell of dust and mould hits your nostrils quick. Before you can even move deeper in to find the one you want to talk to, a guard stops you.” Eddie describes it in a beautiful manner, his voice and tone pulling you in deeply, believing every single word, a picture fully painted. 

“I demand to speak with Sir.Deeptrut.” You say, in a loud focused voice, avoiding his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, your highness. Sir.Deeptrut was accused with an assassination attempt against your father, I would blame you if you came here to uh… finish the job but… I’m afraid I can’t let you in.” He changed his accent to an English one, it made you smile a bit more, discovering something you didn’t know Eddie was capable of doing. 

Lua looked up, shocked that her dad could sound like that, not understanding how, Eddie tried to hide his laugh with a little wave at her. 

“I just wanna talk to him… please?” You try again. 

“Give me a persuasion check.” Eddie used his menacing voice, the one that indicated an important decision. 

“Lua?” You asked her, her eyes looking up at you. “You wanna help me roll?” You opened your hand, letting her reach for one of the die. You looked as she grabbed it and threw it on the little wooden box Eddie had left you. “Good job bud!” You praised her as soon as you saw the 19 on the die. 

“Jesus, yeah, that’ll do.” Eddie said as soon as he saw the number. Lua chuckled when she saw how happy that had made the two of you. “Princess… He’s a dangerous man.” He used that accent again, the whole table waiting for what your plan is. 

“What’s your name?” You narrowed your eyes as you snapped back, your whole attitude changing. 

“I’m Liam your highness.”

“Great, so I’ll tell my father that a guard named Liam wouldn’t let me even talk to the man I’m betrothed to.” All of the table opened their mouths in amusement. 

“What?” Mike snapped, the first one to do so. 

“Betrothed?” Lucas panicked, given he was the one playing the king. 

“Just, trust me!” You repeat yourself, even if everyone was looking at you as if you were crazy. 

“He just steps back, with his hands in the air, giving you full access to Sir.Deeptrut” Eddie describes in pure amused shock at the chaos you were creating. 

“I walk in, and I’m gonna Disguise Self to turn into one of his um… friends?” You half ask as you stifle a laugh. “So he’ll think that me coming as princess was a trick to get in.” You keep explaining your plan. “And then I’ll just get down and try to like, act as if I’m trying to break him free. And say uh… There’s still time for me to finish this, tell me where you got the poison dagger and I’ll finish it myself.” 

The whole table felt silent, not really expecting you to do that. 

“Oh…God.” Eddie’s face got red, not sure if he found it hot because it had been you doing it, or because it was one hell of a play. “I uh… Shii-ut” He saved himself from cursing as soon as he saw Lua looking up at him with curious eyes. “That’ll be a deception check.” He adds, still bamboozled. 

“Lua, you wanna roll again?” You ask her, two dice this time were layed in the palm of your hand. “I’ve got advantage right?” 

“Why?” 

“Disguise Self, she’s got the actor feet.” Dustin explains in a sort of automotive tone, not really quite believing such a move had come out of you. 

“You do.” Eddie confirmed as he nodded, a sense of pride emanating from him. 

“C’mon Lua, you’ve got it.” You cheered her as she let the die hit the wooden box. “That’s so good dude!” You praised her once again, a soft kiss left on her cheek as her laughter could be heard. “That’ll be a 24.” 

“I… I don’t know where you can get another one, I just… If the primogen of the church got me one, I’m sure he can get you another one, but be wary, that family’s got something odd.” 

“You don’t say.” You add in a teasing tone, before raising your eyebrows again, a move that let Eddie know you were about to do something outlandish again. “I want to drop the disguise self and call for the guards. Explain to them how he just confessed and that they have to arrest the primogen.” 

“You… you do that.” Eddie finally breaks, as the whole table erupts in panicked laughter and shock that your outlandish plan had worked. “And you see how he just goes ballistic, his full body trying to free himself from the chains as he just yells nonsense in a repetitive manner as he realises just how much you have fooled him.” 

“I just wanna reach over to him, close enough to his ear and whisper to him uh… I hope your God hears you now.”

“You have to come play with us more often.” Will says in shock, while Mike just stays there next to him, in shock not really believing you actually did that. 

“Lua, you want to go to bed?” You weren’t paying that much attention to the table, nor why it was that impressive. You were more worried about Lua and her head falling as she started falling asleep. “I’ll take her to bed, I’ll come in a minute.” You tell everyone, but mostly Eddie. 

He watches you closely, the way your hands hold her with such a delicate manner, the care and sensibility you have in your movements. He reaches for your hand, right before you leave, his thumb caressing the back of your hand in an affectionate touch. You step in a bit closer to him, he stands up so he can leave a short kiss on his daughter’s forehead, right before whispering thank you, a fast kiss on your lips as his dimples appear on his cheeks.  He saw you walk into his room, and even if he was supposed to concentrate on the game, he could only think the same thing i never want to see her go.

[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: More of Y/N's past is revealed. Dean is there to comfort her as he inquires about the parts she never shared. Warnings: Angst, talk of past abuse, child abuse, comfort, coping, understanding trauma, trauma, denial, no GIF sorry!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 1,974

Words mean more at night

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

A back-and-forth motion rubs against my knee but my eyes are down at the carpeted floors. Someone got me to my motel room.

I blink, my eyes tracing the movement to a familiar veiny hand. He’s kneeled in front of me, patiently waiting for me. His motion on my knee doesn’t stop as he smiles at me sadly, “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer weakly, watching his face for any changes. Carefully he raises his free hand to my hand, giving me time to back away. He covers my clutched hand, I hadn’t realized I was forming tight fists. He gently pries my fingers open revealing little alcohol packets. That’s the light thing I was handed to clean off the specks of blood…blood from—

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean says softly, pulling me back to the present. He takes the packets from my hands, opening one carefully but before he moves to do anything he asks, “Can I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I know I wasn’t supposed to allow him our small touches but that can all be screwed right now. I want a hug and I want to hide under the covers until it all passes, as childish as it sounds. “Words,” he reminds. He had his nailbed-biting habits I had the habit of shutting down and he knew that well enough to try and push me out of it, even if it meant just answering verbally. “Yes, please,” I say just barely above a whisper.

The motion on my knee stops and with that same hand, he reaches up slowly to cradle my head, pushing some of my hair back. He gets closer to my face and with the alcohol pad he lightly rubs off a spec on my cheek, his eyes focused there. I knew what he was thinking, I could see the thoughts and questions swirling in his eyes. “You can ask,” I say, it’s better to get it over now. He doesn’t say anything for a beat as he cleans a couple of spots on my face, “Not my place too,” he answers.

He lets go of me, pushing off the balls of his feet, and standing up, he collects the scraps and walks to the other side of my small motel room to discard them.

I want to sink into myself, “You’re upset with me,” I tell him, knowing I'm right by his body language and just overall behavior. Again he doesn’t answer but I can see the tension in his shoulders and I know he’s holding back. I kick off my shoes, scooting back on the bed until my back hits the headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around me as he fidgets with something on the counter. 

He turns around swiftly but doesn’t move towards me, “Why didn–” he cuts himself off, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for sweetheart I–”

“You can say it. Let’s just talk about this now, I don’t like it when you’re upset at me,” I admit though I’m sure he already knew. He sighs, looking away, “I’m not upset at you.”

“You aren’t?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I’m mad I didn’t know,” he steps closer until he reaches the bed, “I should’ve known.”

I pat the spot next to me, allowing him to get closer so we could sit comfortably like old times, “We were young,” I reasoned. He takes the spot next to me, the bed dipping as he does, “I have two years on you,” he counters. I roll my eyes, he always tries to play that card. “Well, I was very good at hiding it, had to be. Plus…you heard what I said about B/N.”

He groans, frustrated, his head leaning back on the headboard, “That doesn’t make me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“You had your own things to worry about. We didn’t see each other very often then either, we hung out more after he died and by then it was no longer an issue,” I explain. But he doesn’t respond. “I’m quite resilient you know. Not much can really kill me,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. His head snaps to me, “That doesn’t make it better. You were still…”

“It’s okay,” I say, focusing my eyes on the wall across the room. “It’s not,” he replies, “He died when you were 15, you had 3 years of that.” I’m almost surprised he remembered the exact time like that, though maybe he had been thinking about it and started to calculate. I don’t say anything for I have nothing to say at all, I don’t talk about it and I’ve tried to forget it. “I shoulda known,” he repeats. I turn my head to look at him being met with his side profile, his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw tense, he was beating himself up over something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t expect you to help me or save me you know, or anyone for that matter. Just hanging out with you and Sammy was enough.”

His jaw seems to twitch, “I saw some bruises before, but you said it was from a hunt you helped your Dad with. You're a lousy liar so I should’ve known.”

“Dean,” I say firmly,  touching his shoulder. He meets my eyes, his green eyes are cold, “Trust me when I say it wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. It just happened. And it’s over now, has been for a while.”

He swallows roughly, his Addams apple bobbing, and I know he doesn’t believe me, “It’s your Dad’s fault, he’s a prick. Don’t matter if he was grieving or not.”

I frown, remove my hand from his arm, and focus my attention back on the wall. I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for him…” he says but I don't answer, “You don’t blame him?” he asks confused, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I shrug, shrinking further into myself in an attempt to make myself smaller, “I don–I don’t know. He wasn’t always like that…he just….Mom was gone so…” I exhale a shaky breath, “I know it was wrong, that he shouldn’t have been doing that. I know that. It’s not like I forgive him or anything, I mean he hurt my brother—”

“And you,” Dean cuts me off to add.

“Yeah…and I know there are healthier ways of coping, I don’t condone his actions and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to their kids but Mom was gone and…”

“There is no ‘but’ and you know that. Your explanation isn't going anywhere ‘cause there’s no excuse for that,” he interjects firmly. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel right to believe or say and I don’t know why. “He was only mean when he was drunk, otherwise he was quiet or gone,” I try to reason but the words feel wrong as they leave my mouth. “Not an excuse,” he counters.

“I know,” I mumble, “But! It started as an accident!” I say looking at Dean, “And it was necessary. He was on a hunt by himself and we knew he would be back soon but it was late so me and B/N made dinner together, we ate and saved some for him. B/N ended up falling asleep early, his football practice totally knocked him out, so I stayed up and waited at the kitchen table to make sure Dad got home okay. When he finally did get home he was very drunk and smelt like alcohol, I helped him and he was babbling about Mom. He pushed me off of him, ‘said he could do it himself so I backed off a little.

Then he was trying to get to the fridge for another beer but I got in his way cause I knew he had too much and should have water instead, he called me some mean names that I don’t wish to repeat. I’m very stubborn so I didn’t move and he hit me, it was just a slap though. But I have this whole defense mechanism and if my body thinks it’s in true danger then my powers will start working to defend me without really my control, and it’s very hard to shut off. So things started to rattle, and a picture frame on the mantel of Mom broke and that really made him upset so he hit me again this time harder and I actually passed out. But that’s okay! cause nothing else broke and I could’ve really hurt someone or if it got too out of control then I could’ve gotten the attention of hunters.”

I stop my rambling of the story, watching Dean’s face to see if he finally understood. But his eyes were filled with so much sadness and his face dropped with sympathy, a frown on his lips. “What?” I ask confused, didn’t he get it now? He doesn’t answer, instead, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. I shift my legs so I can hug him back comfortably, but I hold onto his arms more confused than anything. “Wasn’t necessary,” he says, his chin on my head. I open my mouth to say something else, to say he’s wrong but it hits me then. I was being an idiot, a total fool.

If someone told me that story I would feel bad for them and say they didn’t deserve that, they did nothing wrong in the first place. But it wasn’t someone else’s story, it was mine, and somehow that made it different. Right?

It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t, so why do I feel this way? I’m not normally like this. “Wasn’t your fault. You were a kid and you were trying to help, he’s an asshole and shouldn’t have done any of it,” Dean says softly.

Tears run down my cheek. I didn’t like his Dad because he didn’t treat them well so why was I making excuses for my Dad? Was it because of Mom? She loved him so wholly but still would have despised what he became, did he know that? Did that only make him feel worse?

And just because he wasn’t always mean to us doesn’t mean it was okay. Because it was more than being mean, I know that.

I know by morning I’ll be in a better mood. I’ll have a different perspective on things that I won’t understand for a while, I’m self-aware enough to know that too. But it will be okay because things always turn out okay, they always get better. Tomorrow will always be a new day and the sun will shine brighter.

I pull away from Dean just far enough to look at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was nothin’ against you.”

He gently wipes away a tear falling down my cheek, “Stop apologizing.”

I open my mouth to apologize for apologizing but seeing the issue there I lean my head into his chest again. We stay there silently for a while and I try to focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest instead of my mind. He rubs a hand up and down my back, and my shoulders drop. It’s been a long day with a lot of emotions and I was tired. “He can’t hurt you anymore. ‘Won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers just barely audible. But my eyes were fluttering shut, growing heavy so maybe I imagined it and the soft press of his lips to my crown.

Tomorrow will be better, I remind myself.