#demigoddess! reader

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

A freebie just in case

Again on the steps.

Again you died.

But this time- this time- through the crack in the door you could see... something. Markings and carvings that you didn't understand. And someone? Something?

Had they been the source of the whispers?

_____

Jason stroked a sweat-damp lock of hair away from your face and took your pulse.

Your heart rate was always slow. It crawled now though. "Where do you keep going?" he murmured.

Where did you go? Whenever you did close your eyes, you didn't STAY here. Your body was here, sure. But- it was almost like being in the room with a coma patient. You seemed to be hovering.

If it weren't for the sweat and the tension- well. He'd probably think you were dead. Or close to it.

"Again?" Tim said frowning, keeping his distance while Bruce moved closer.

"She was reading," Jason said. "Magazines Steph found for her. To try and jog- something. Anything."

"Hn."

Jason glanced up at Bruce and frowned. "Don't start-"

"Pulse?" Bruce asked.

"Crawling," Jason said, "But steady. Same as it is every time."

Bruce nodded, frown deepening, "Nothing new?"

"Nothing," Jason said shaking his head. "The only thing she remembers is cold. And scrapes on her hands."

"Consistent, at least," Bruce said.

"But not much to go on."

"No," Bruce sighed. "But at least we know it's true." You'd allowed Diana to use her Lasso. And- well. You really had no memory. You couldn't lie under those conditions. Still too many missing pieces for his liking. And he didn't like the way Jason was looking at you.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Two

<<< Chapter One

Your eyes widen when you see Chiron being half horse half man.

"You are a centaur"

Chiron chuckles at your shocked expression.

"Indeed, I'm, and I'm here to guide you"

"Thank you, sir"

"Are you not going to greet me, (Wrong name)?"

You turn your eyes to stare at the dark haired dark eyes man with confusion.

"My name is (Y/n)" you correct him before asking "And you are?"

"Dionysus"

"As in the god who has a cult?"

"That's me, I miss my cult"

You nod in agreement, unsure if that was meant to be humor or a genuine confession.

"Yes, I used to rule an entire cult in ancient Greece. They all worshipped me and offered me sacrifices."

You feel a twinge of unease at the thought of being in a cult, especially one led by a god like Dionysus.

Still, you don't want to be rude, so you just smile politely and say.

"That's... great."

Dionysus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response.

"Well then," he says,

"Shall we continue on? I can show you around the camp and introduce you to some of the other demigods."

Chiron frowns, looking at Dionysus, finding his behaviour strange.

Dionysus is never friendly towards any demigod.

But now, he is offering to show you around.

Chiron never understood the gods obsession with you.

He assumed it has something to do with your powers.

"There is no need, but thank you for the offer, Luke showed me around the camp"

You say before turning towards the centaur.

"I will be going now if that's all"

The moment you take your leave, Dionysus sighs in disappointment.

"If only she was my daughter"

°°°

The cabin is all pastel pink and surrounded by flowers and cherubs statues, and it is also close to Aphrodite's cabin, which is not surprising.

But what made you uncomfortable is the glass window in your room.

You will need curtains for that later.

What is surprising is that you found tons of gifts on your bed and your wardrobe is filled with clothes.

And a note that says 'From your beloved grandmother. Aphrodite'

Also there are gifts from different deities.

For example, Hermes gave you a golden caduceus pendant with a blue diamond.

Apollo gave you healing potions.

Ares gifted you a dagger and also has a note with it 'Sharp enough to kill your enemies'

But what astonished you the most is the gift from Etos, it's a music box.

A cherubs music box, when you turn it on, it starts playing very enchanting music.

There is a long letter too.

My sweet demigoddess,

I write to you on this fine day to express my deepest love and adulation for you.

Your strength, courage, and power all demonstrate your divine ancestry, and your beauty and grace shine with the warmth of the sun.

My heart aches for you from far away, and all I desire is to embrace you in my arms and to watch you flourish with all that you are and can be.

This music box is a gift from me, once it starts playing, all monsters will flock away from you.

From your father,

Eros.

The strong fragrance on the letter makes you calm down.

To be honest, you don't hate Eros even though he never was by your side when you grew up.

Maybe the new life for you here, isn't bad after all.

°°°

"Capture the flag? As in fighting other demigods? no thank you"

You say, walking by Percy's side.

The boy showed up at your doorsteps first thing in the morning, and asked you to walk with him.

"Don't worry, I will protect you, if you stay by my side" 

You stop and look at Percy and cross your arms over your chest.

"Why did you tell Luke that I'm your girlfriend?" you inquire.

Percy smiles.

"Because you have always been my girlfriend, remember in grade one where you wanted to marry me and made a promis-"

You quickly stop him, your cheeks heating up from the childhood memories.

"I was a child"

"I don't care, a promise is a promise"

"What if I fall for another?"

Percy shrugs, with the smile still on his face.

"It would be like Icarus flying too close to the sun"

You raise an eyebrow but he continues.

"Another might get close to you but they will never reach you before they fall to their deaths"

Chapter Three >>>

[winterzxsoldierz]

Well You Know Me...

Avenger!Bucky Barnes X Goofy!Villain!Reader

Warnings: Reader being an idiot and a flirt, no mentions of Y/N, Reader is a Female and a demigoddess who loves to cause chaos.

Bucky's feet echo along the darkened hall, it's quiet, too quiet for his liking but he keeps moving, he doesn't know why he agreed to come here, to find you, you weren't really a problem per say but you are still on SHIELDS watch list as a threat and after that Loki issue Bucky wasn't taking no chances with you. Bucky gets to a door, it's large and steel, it's nothing out of the ordinary but he's still not lowering his guard knowing you're around, who knows what you'll do. He pushes open the steel double doors and walks in, it's dark, the only light is coming from a purple light in the desk on the corner, he's tense and looking around, he walks in further and feels around for a switch and turns on the lights when he finds it. He has to give it to you, you really have this little evil lair of yours going, with the purple and black furniture, the over dramatic gargoyle statue over the fireplace. He only stares at it blankly.

"Oh what's this? New meat for me to play with?" Bucky jumps out of his skin and turns around quickly, his gun trained on you, he didn't hear you, at all, you just appeared behind him. You smirk and tilt your head, while nothing but mischief gleams in your eyes. "You must be James?" You step closer. "I would give you my name...but that takes the fun out of my game." Bucky just stares not saying a word, his gun still pointed at you and his guard is still up, he was expecting a fight but you just stared at him like a child with a new toy to torment, you had a plate of pizza in your hand and a soda pop in the other.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asks, his eyes narrowed and weary. You laugh and shake your head "I'm on break duh, Evil people need food to." You bite a slice of pizza and grin at him. "Want some?" You say, outstretching your arm to hand him the plate with a raised brow. "No. i don't want your pizza." He scoffs, a grumpy frown forming on his face. "Okay first off rude, i'm not black death, secondly can you please put your gun away, i'm not gonna bite you....Yet."

Bucky's eyes roll, this was gonna be a long night, a very long night....

Two weeks later... "Hey James!" Again you catch Bucky off guard when he walks into your lair, this time though he has you in a headlock and of course you're grinning like an idiot, "Save these tricks for the bedroom James, you haven't even bought me flowers yet." he scowls and let's go of you "Shut up brat, the only flowers you'll get from me is at your funeral is when i kill you." your jaw goes slack and for a minute it's quiet, before a large grin appears on your lips, "Holy shit, that was hot, i knew you could flirt." Bucky blinks, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, he's only known you for a week and you're already driving him up a wall. "Shut up." Bucky grumbles and pushes past you into your lair. "Where is it?" Bucky asks. "Where's what?" You ask innocently. "The gun, with the green squiggly things, that shoots fire, that gun?"

Bucky demands, and stares at you. "Ohhh...that gun, his name is Blaze, and i don't have it."

You lie, Bucky is unamused, and waits for you to tell him. "You won't intimidate me." Your arms cross over your chest and you smirk, i can't give you Blaze, he's the best thing ever created since ultron" You smirk mischievously and chuckle at the look on Bucky's face, until you cave. "Fine, if i give it, will you protect him? it took me forever to birth him." "I'm not promising anything" Bucky grumbles and holds out his hand as you place the gun in his hand. "I'm going now." Bucky turns on his heels and begins to leave but you call out to him. "You know, you could at least leave your phone number since you're taking my son."

you knew he heard as he left and you can't help but laugh. you knew these encounters wouldn't end anytime soon.

i will post part two soon. let me know if this is good🖤

Part two here<-

[ukulelevillainwrites]

we're not gonna be friends

one shot

Warnings: none

Content: not ennemies, more like annoyed at each other, to lovers, f!reader x George

Word count: 6.8k

Summary: George and y/n can't stand each other, but Lucy can see through their annoyance. Maybe she should help them out a little bit.

Comment: it took me an embarrassingly long time to write this but i'm so happy it's finally here! It was inspired by the song We're not gonna be friends by PJ Frantz which is attached to this

@neewtmas ; @maraschinomerry ; @oblivious-idiot ; @bella-rose29 ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @lewkwoodnco ; @clarabowmp3 ; @demigoddess-of-ghosts

The kitchen was silent like it often was before breakfast. Or was it lunchtime already? Despite the number of clocks in the house, y/n couldn’t keep track of the day. Unlike Tendy’s where every agent had to keep a tight schedule, Lockwood&Co taught her to be more spontaneous with her day. She’d been there three months already, but she still wasn’t used to the hours kept by her colleagues. They could eat breakfast at 3am or 11, sometimes had breakfast for dinner or the other way around. The only thing she knew by heart was the quietness before a shared meal. The only noises came from George’s cooking. They would soon be replaced by uninterrupted chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor and the kettle that was kept on most of the time.

She tried to appreciate the peace before the storm but it was tainted with the heavy stillness of the room. With his back turned to her, George couldn’t see her disappointment at the lack of conversation between them. Despite her best efforts, she hadn’t managed to find any sort of anchor with him. She had tried her best to be friendly, helpful, grateful for everything he did around the house but nothing had worked. Even the best conversation starters she could find about the Problem would get shut down in two sentences or less. Once, she mentioned the conversation she had overheard between two of her ex-colleagues, theories on the best ways to stop the Problem. His eyes had lit up, eager to respond and keep the debate going. He had only taken part of the conversation to contradict whatever the agents had said, but she was glad of the progress she made. However, she had made the mistake of smiling at him which instantly turned him mute once again before exiting the room without finishing whatever thought he had started.

She had grown frustrated of the situation. Frankly, if it hadn’t been for Lockwood and Lucy, she would have given up entirely. But they kept insisting that they could be the best of friends and if she was honest with herself she felt insecure about wrecking the harmony between the three roommates. She already felt guilty enough for making Lucy share her room, no matter how much she insisted that she liked having her here. So, she attempted a new approach: instead of talking to him, she would try to help him out, be of service.

She waited patiently for him to finish whatever step he was on in his recipe to get the plates from behind him. When he rested the spoon he had in hand on the side of the pan, she stood up and went for the plates. He got there first and turned around carrying the four plates. Instead of handing them to her, he avoided her eyes and set them down himself, practically walking through her. She didn’t let his rudeness stop her from helping and opened the cupboard where sat the glasses. He was faster once more and slid his fingers inside the glasses to grab two with each hand. Refusing to back down, she took the forks and knives out and set one of each next to the plates. She went next for the napkins but was stopped in her tracks by the sound of metal hitting plates. She turned around to see George rearranging her table setting, visibly sighing as he placed attentively the forks on the left face up and the knives on the right blades in. He once again avoided her gaze and went back to his dish still cooking on the stove.

“Should I bring the napkins or do you have preferences for that too?” She tried to say on a light tone but her annoyance bled through.

“However you want is fine.”

“Apparently not…” she mumbled.

“They’re just napkins, y/n.”

“They were just forks.”

“That’s differ-“

She slammed the door behind her before he could finish. She wasn’t sure if she was hungry anymore. The front door opened and she came face to face with Lockwood who was coming back from whatever errand he and Lucy had run in the morning.

“Hey,” he said as she passed by him. “Aren’t we about to eat?” he asked, but she was already climbing up the stairs.

He and Lucy exchanged a look before the girl decided to go after her. Even though y/n hadn’t said anything, Lucy was pretty sure George had to be involved. She couldn’t really blame her. She and George had had a difficult start too. But it hadn’t taken this long for the researcher to warm up to her. And y/n was much more polite than she had been. Something was off and he had some explaining to do. She would ask him about it after she made sure y/n was okay. She climbed the stairs up to the attic and found y/n angrily fluffing the pillows on her bed. She didn’t have to ask to know whose face she was picturing while violently adjusting the stuffing of a forest green throw pillow.

“So…” she started carefully, “how was your morning?”

“He is the most obnoxious and condescending jerk I’ve ever met.”

“What happened now?” she asked cautiously, but she couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth.

“I have tried so hard to be pleasant and helpful. I talk about subjects he is interested in, I help out on chores he does, I do everything to be nice and a good roommate and he still won’t talk to me for more than thirty seconds and he won’t under any circumstances let me help out.”

She threw the innocent pillow on her bed to punctuate her annoyance.

Lucy felt torn by the situation. On the one hand she felt bad for her. Getting used to living with George hadn’t been easy for her either, but compared to how he was treating y/n, she had had it easy. He had been irritable lately and he snapped at the slightest inconvenience. On the other hand, she might have an idea of what was really going on.

“Why don’t we go back downstairs and eat something, it’ll make you feel better.”

“And deal with him? No thanks.”

She resolutely sat on her bed, crossing her arms to mark her words.

“I’ll bring up a plate for you.” Lucy said as she made her way back down the stairs.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Lucy said as soon as she entered the kitchen.

“Where should I start?” The skull countered in that invasive way he had of barging in on her conversations.

She ignored him and tapped George on the shoulder, making him look away from his cooking.

“Please, Lucy, we’re about to eat.”

“Yeah, well y/n’s not coming down because of you.”

“She’s not?” Lockwood chimed in.

“Our dear friend George annoyed her away.”

Lockwood smiled somewhat fondly. This was classic George.

“I didn’t do anything.” He said flatly.

“You didn’t let her help, you keep leaving her out!”

George took a deep breath before affirming decidedly

“I don’t like the way she sets the forks and knives.”

She and Lockwood exchanged a look. He couldn’t be serious.

“George, please,” Lockwood started, sensing Lucy’s annoyance.

“She doesn’t check if they match and she sets them haphazardly because she can’t be bothered to place them on each side of the plate, it drives me nuts!”

She looked across the table to see Lockwood smiling at her, silently acknowledging his friend’s quirks.

“George,” he started, “I can’t have two team members unable to work together over forks and knives. I’m gonna need you to make an effort, try and be friends.” He punctuated his words with one of his charming smiles.

George stood up and grabbed his plate.

“I can’t be friends with her.” He declared before going in his room.

Lockwood sighed in defeat.

“Don’t worry about it too much.” Lucy told him.

“How can I not? They’re this close to being at each other’s throat.”

Oh I don’t know about throats but something else surely. She didn’t want to say anything yet, but she had a hunch. George was rude, more so than he had ever been to her. He claimed he couldn’t stand y/n, yet he somehow always managed to be in the same room as her. If he truly couldn’t spend a minute in her company, why did she find him researching a case in the library on several occasions with y/n reading nearby instead of going in his room? And why would he spend twice as much time cleaning if not maybe to see her coming in? He may have his preferences when it came to cleaning, but her instincts told her there was something else at play here.

“Maybe we could make them collaborate more…” She told Lockwood with a grin.

They shared a complicit look.

George was halfway through an article when Lockwood called him down. He wondered what could be more important than being prepared for a case but with Lockwood it could be anything. Without looking up from the newspaper he was reading he went downstairs, only to be greeted with Lucy’s insistent stare. She had that look on her face. It instantly filled him with dread. Whatever they did, it obviously meant more work for him.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing!” Lucy answered too quickly. “We just…”

He left the article on the nearest table to cross his arms. He looked back at Lockwood.

“We knocked over a few boxes while training.”

“So? Just clean it up.”

“They’re yours. It’s your records and research on the Problem…”

George stormed downstairs. Dealing with Lockwood’s recklessness in the field was already a lot, but carelessness in the house they all lived in, that’s where he drew the line.

“I’m sorry George,” Lockwood chased after him, “I want to help but I don’t know your system.”

“You’d mess it up anyway. It’s fine, I’ll take care of it.” He sighed.

“At least let me get you some help,” Lucy said, already halfway back into the hall.

Before he could protest, she called “y/n! We need your help!”

The girl arrived shortly after, visibly unhappy about the situation.

“We have errands to run, but have fun you two!” Lucy said cheerfully, quickly exiting through the front door before anyone of them could protest.

George stared at the closed door with round eyes. He wasn’t mad about the files anymore. This was worse. So much worse. How was he supposed to get anything done while she was around?

“What do you need help with?” y/n asked flatly.

Without sparing her another glance he rushed back downstairs to evaluate how much damage had been done. He didn’t want to try and explain his system. Frankly, he wasn’t sure he could. He was aware of his quirks and weird habits, and he was aware that it didn’t make sense to most people. Lockwood had made that clear. And even though Lucy made efforts, his filing system was where she drew the line. He didn’t want to hear the same thing from y/n.

Papers were scattered across the office floor. The filing box labelled ‘Problem’ was upside down, balanced between two chairs and on the verge of joining its content below it. The tabs he had placed inside to keep everything organized hadn’t survived the attack. This would take hours.

“So, you’re not even going to talk to me now?” y/n’s voice resonated from the kitchen.

His heart started to beat faster. With wild eyes, he started to pick up the papers mechanically while his mind reeled. What was he supposed to say? Her footsteps resonated louder as she stepped further down into the basement. The air grew thicker with tension as she did so. He wished he would break through the window and run away from this awkward situation.

“George?” she started, crossing her arms as she reached the last step.

Reluctantly, he lifted his eyes towards her, silently cursing himself for screwing up their relationship this badly. He blinked, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“Fine.” she let out, slightly louder.

The look on her face made him ache. She looked terrifying when she was angry. He froze halfway through collecting the papers at his feet. She frowned at him, probably wondering what was wrong with him. She bent down and picked the papers up for him, organizing them in neat piles on the one desk that Lockwood and Lucy had spared.

“You know,” she started, “you’re probably the most confusing person I’ve ever met.”

He still stood in the middle of the room, paralyzed by the coldness of her voice. He stared blankly as she angrily collected the papers and forcefully sorted them, creasing some of them in the process.

“I tried to help around the house, but you never let me. I clean, you clean again after me. I initiate conversation and you find any excuse to leave the room.”

She looked down at the last papers she picked up. They were newspaper cuttings about the most relevant outbreaks of the Problem. She smiled as she read the titles and it sent a chill down his spine. Whatever was coming next was not going to be good.

“I spent hours reading all I could find about the origin of the Problem. Lucy said that was how she got you to open up. I thought we could finally have something to talk about. Instead, you walked out after two minutes.”

George looked back at her, a knot forming in his stomach. Having all his mistakes lined up this way made him realize how badly he had handled the situation.

“Am I really that hard to live with?” she asked. There was a crack in her voice.

He couldn’t stay silent. Not this time. But no matter how much he wanted to find the right thing to say, he came up short.

“I’m sorry!” he blurted out.

She looked up, surprised.

“What was that?” she said, eager to make him apologize again.

“You heard me…” he mumbled.

“No, I don’t think I did,” she smiled. “George Karim apologizing? That’s more unlikely than seeing a ghost hula hooping.”

He smiled back. They stared at each other for a few seconds, long enough to make the air feel warmer in the basement. The first crumb of complicity gave him enough courage to try to make up for his rudeness. He added the papers in his hand to the pile on the desk in front of him before continuing.

“I never wanted to make you feel unwelcome.” He looked down, ashamed to admit he had badly misread the situation. “I’m just used to Lucy pushing back and when you didn’t, I thought… that maybe you were faking it? That you were talking about the Problem just to make fun, and you helped out just to annoy me and slow me down-”

“Oh, being nice is annoying now?”

“I don’t know! I’m a jerk, I see that now.”

“At least we can agree on that.”

He looked back up expecting to see her frowning.

“Why are you smiling?”

“You’re finally honest with me. I take that as a victory,” she said decidedly as she reached for the upturned cardboard box.

“So I’m guessing you have a system to organize your files?”

The question caught him off-guard. Was she really moving on from three months of feud that easily? It felt like a trick. She stared at him expectantly.

“Just… chronological.” He said cautiously.

“I don’t think you’d use that many tabs if it was just chronological. You must have subcategories, right? Like at least geographical and then maybe by source…”

Whatever trick this might be, it was working. He couldn’t resist correcting anyone about his filing system.

“I always start with the chronological order and then I file everything according to geography. For each year, I like to organize the records by city then order them by region and finally-”

“Alphabetically?”

“No,” he said with a smile. “I take the region most located South then move back up East, then North and finish West.”

“Why?”

“It’s easier to visualize on a map.”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

When she and Lockwood came back from their errand, which really consisted of going to the coffeeshop closest to the house to let George and y/n have it out, Lucy was shocked to discover that her plan had actually worked. Well, not that shocked. She knew there was something there. They just needed a little push.

They had to climb down the stairs to the basement to finally find them because none of them answered their calls from the hallway. They were deep in conversation about the Problem. The files and boxes had been entirely cleaned up, everything was back on the shelves and… Wait, did George just laugh at something y/n said? How long had they been gone?

Lockwood had a confused look on her face, matching hers. It didn’t leave him the entire way to the client’s house that evening. There was no more tense silence, awkward avoidance or strange atmosphere in the group. The change was radical. Had she known it would have been this effective, she would have locked them up in the basement three months ago. She had been worried they would have ripped each other’s eyes out in such close quarters. In this moment though, they stared intently at each other more than they looked murderous. She smiled to herself, only making Lockwood more confused. She threw him a look. They are so gone for each other. He looked at her sideways, seemingly in disbelief. She raised her eyebrows. I swear! You’ll see. He seemed unconvinced, but she knew. “I can’t be friends with her” George had said. Yes, quite literally, she thought.

The cab came to a halt in front of their workplace for the night. 11 Hall Road. Lucy would have loved to have an exciting new case that she could add to her journal, but the truth was that most cases were plain. An old person dies, the inheritors need to clear the house before living there or selling it. Those who had become apathetical to the Problem said it was just another expense to plan alongside the funeral. She wasn’t in the mood for apathetical. Not when she had two idiotic friends practically holding hands after being at each other’s throat for the past three months. It comforted her to see them remain focused on their tasks without breaking conversation, and she almost didn’t want to tell them to stop to allow her to use her talent. A job was still a job though.

When silence hit them, so did the cold realization of all the sorrow surrounding them. Wailing filled Lucy’s ears and soon the faint outline of the phantasm haunting the place appeared in the corner of her eye. She couldn’t perceive it very well, but its screams made it hard for her to think. Lockwood stepped in front of her, rapier drawn and ready for a fight, while George tried to yell over the disembodied screams what the source could be. y/n was running through the house following his directions but to no avail. His last idea was a miniature car in the bedroom at the end of the hall.

“Found it!” y/n called from upstairs.

But Lucy was the one with the silver nets. She drew her own rapier, aiming for the stairs. The phantasm was faster. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the figure floating upstairs, so fast she doubted her mind for a second. y/n’s scream confirmed she hadn’t been dreaming. Lucy saw the girl running past her in the opposite direction, only stopped by the chest of drawers stationed on the landing. She hit her side with a definite thump, bringing her down and leaving her paralyzed on the floor of the corridor. Lucy hurried up the stairs and came to stand between y/n and the ghost, drawing intricate patterns she had practiced with Lockwood. When she heard the boys climbing the stairs, she used her other hand to take the silver nets out of her pocket. They got caught in her belt and the second she looked away was enough for the visitor to float closer to y/n, still lying a few feet behind her. Using her remaining strength, y/n threw a salt bomb, winning enough time for Lockwood to join Lucy’s side, covering George while he took care of the source.

None of them really spoke on their way back, still shaken from the close call they avoided. Y/n didn’t suffer major injuries, just a few bad bruises, which was a relief. It was enough for Lockwood to tell her to stay home for the next few days. She hadn’t protested, probably because she was exhausted from the night and the drive had rocked her to sleep. When they arrived in front of Portland Row, George didn’t let Lucy wake her up. Instead he carried her inside and despite the night they’d had, she smiled.

The rays of light shining on her face hurt her closed eyes, but not as much as the bruises in her side that decided to wake up as soon as she emerged from her heavy sleep. She was sore, thirsty and only managed to groan when trying to move in what was definitely not her bed. She reached over, eyes still closed, and encountered something cold. Her reflexes kicked in, knocking the glass over and effectively pouring its content on her. She jerked up and immediately screamed at the pain stabbing her side.

“Are you okay?” George asked, worried, as he crashed back into his room.

Desperately trying to get away from the cold wet blanket, she pulled herself up, only managing to hurt herself more.

“No, no, no, slow down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more if you do that.”

He gently nudged her back down, elevating her head with a pillow and removing the blanket to toss it on the floor. She shivered.

“How did you sleep?” he asked as he casually laid something else on her.

“Terrible,” she simply said as she managed to open an eye.

“Do you remember last night?” he continued while helping her sit.

“Yes… I think.” She looked around with half-opened eyes. “Why am I in your room?”

“Lockwood almost passed out after the first flight of stairs.”

She opened her second eye and stared at him dubitatively.

“Fine I wasn’t doing great either.”

She laughed lightly but it only triggered her injury again.

“Here, drink this,” he handed her a cup of tea, “and today you’re on bed rest. No work, no chores, nothing. Not even laughing.”

“I should keep you around then,” she said, before taking a sip.

He threw her a look, but even with eyes half open she could see the shadow of a smile on his face.

He went back downstairs, leaving her to savor her tea, its warmth welcome after having been awakened in such a brutal way. She looked back down and noticed what George had draped over her. His own sweater, the one he wore in October when the days started getting colder, sat gently on her shoulders, smelling faintly of cedarwood. She hadn’t realized how soft it was, having only touched it with her eyes. The night after the case was a blur, but she could have sworn that only one person had carried her upstairs. She smiled to herself as she looked around his room. Papers were left scattered on his desk, some fallen on the floor. Trinkets were gathered on every shelf that wasn’t already full of books. It was messy, disorganized, but comforting in its own way. She wondered how someone who kept such meticulous files on the Problem could live in a room like this. If she tried to make sense of it, she would probably spend the day here, and she simply refused that. Staying still was out of the question. She carefully sat back up before she tried to get onto her feet. The whole ordeal took about ten minutes. This might not be the brightest idea, she thought to herself, but she was finally making progress with George, they had a semblance of connection and she certainly wouldn’t let one wound stand in the way of her friendship with him.

One painful shower and a whole hour later, y/n made her way downstairs and joined George in the kitchen. She hadn’t even made it through the door that she could already hear him telling her off for getting out of bed. He chastised her about the dangers of disregarding health and how irresponsible it was of her to push her body to its limit. She just took a seat at the kitchen table and smiled at him. He had been talking to her for five uninterrupted minutes with eye contact and everything. Technically it was to yell at her, but still. progress was progress. He gave up when noticing her smile wouldn’t budge.

“Why did you come down anyway?”

“I was hungry,” she said while grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl in front of her.

“You could’ve just told me I would have brought something for you.”

“Actually, since I’m on house arrest and you’re finally speaking to me, why don’t you let me help you out today? You know like cleaning, cooking… everything you do all the time for everyone and never let me help with?”

“No. You’re injured. You shouldn’t move that much.”

“How about research then? That’s just reading.”

“No,” he said decisively, punctuating his rejection with a pointed look.

“Stubborn idiot.”

“Well, I am not the idiot who tripped and almost shattered my hip on a dresser.”

She scoffed and threw the orange in her hand, aiming for his head. He caught it just in time before it made contact with his cheek. He stared back at her with round eyes.

“What the hell was that?” he asked with an edge in his voice. Did she just imagine his voice getting deeper? The slightest grin formed at the corner of his mouth, giving her chills. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’re just jealous because even injured I have better aim than you.” She blurted out, hoping the redness of her face wasn’t obvious.

When he didn’t respond, an idea popped into her head.

“And you probably don’t want me to help because you’re scared I’ll be better at research than you are too.”

He smiled, set the orange down on the table and turned back to the dishes he had started before she got there.

“You really think I’d fall for that? Who do you think I am? Lockwood?”

She took back the fruit and slumped into her chair.

“Can you at least let me help? I can’t stay still for so long, I’ll go mad”

She fidgeted with the orange in her hands, planting her short nails into its skin the best she could. She only managed to pull off small pieces each time.

“You’ll slow me down, and I can’t allow myself to miss a single element. I don’t want last night to happen again.”

She looked up to find him already staring.

“I managed to keep up with your files on the Problem, why would that be any different?”

He didn’t have anything to say back. She smiled triumphantly.

“You have no more arguments, I win the argument! Where should I start?”

He sighed, dried the glass he was holding and sat next to her.

“By learning how to peel an orange properly.” He retorted, snatching the fruit from her hand.

Methodically, he sunk his finger under the peel, tearing it confidently. The fruit’s sweet perfume filled the air as George dropped the peel on the table in one piece. While she studied his hands attentively, he proceeded to tear the orange apart, setting its pieces on the table in front of her.

“I can do that myself you know.”

“Can you?”

“Jerk.” She laughed. Being friends with him wasn’t exactly what she had thought it would be, but she had to admit that she liked it.

He got up and snatched a piece from her hand.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“Compensation for my efforts.” He smirked.

He disappeared into the living room and came back with piles of materials in his arms. He did a second trip to bring books and case files, then a third to get notebooks from his room. When he got back into the kitchen, he sat next to her and wrote the name of the client on the thinking cloth. He pushed back his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s get to work.”

George knew that y/n was too stubborn to rest despite her injury, and she was too clever to be tricked into it. To be fair, he hadn’t tried that hard. He really was glad of the company. He gave her some context for their upcoming case and described his usual research methods. He realized he might have been explaining things too fast when he noticed her staring at him with round eyes.

“I lost you, didn’t I?”

“Sort of…” she answered, embarrassed. “Am I wasting your time?”

“Like spending time with you could ever be wasted time” he wanted to say. Instead, he simply shook his head and started his explanation over, shaking off the thought.

He was right, though. Not only was he greatly enjoying himself, she was also a quick learner. By the second hour spent gathering material, they had already uncovered crucial elements about the history of the place and they had started narrowing in on the type of object that could be a potential source. They made a good team.

The day had gone by without any of them leaving the kitchen. They were enthralled in their work with a comfortable silence between them. They sat side by side, sharing documents and exchanging notes on the Thinking Cloth with an appeasing familiarity. Deep down, George felt guilty that they missed out on moments like these in the past because he was too focused on keeping his new colleague at arm’s length. Their knees bumped every once in a while, each moment making his heart skip a beat. Out of surprise, that is, not that he paid it any mind.

In just a day he had learned to read her smile. The soft polite one was how she asked if he wanted more tea. The shy one meant she needed his help but didn’t want to ask. His favorite one was her triumphant smile when she finally figured out what the source must be. He held his hand out high for her to high five him back. She did, her touch electric against his. She didn’t let go and wrapped her fingers around his, lingering there for another second. He stared at their tangled fingers, oddly captivated. His eyes traveled down her arm and up her face to find her already staring. His breath caught. Suddenly he couldn’t care less about the case they had been working on. Nothing mattered except for the way the warm light of the kitchen lit up her eyes. Her lips parted, catching his eye before he could stop it.

“It’s late, I should probably get some sleep,” she quickly said when their eyes met.

“Yeah,” he let go of her hand, “good idea.”

She used his shoulder to stand up and flinched. He didn’t know if it was from the contact or the effort.

“Good night,” he said gently, trying to shake off some of the awkwardness he was feeling.

“Good night. Don’t stay up too late.”

“I can’t promise anything,” he mumbled as he watched her close the door behind her.

He found it ironic that she was giving him advice when she had been blatantly ignoring everything he said about her health all day long. He returned to the newspaper he was reading, every word on the page escaping his attention. What smile had she used when she left the room? He took a pen to keep his eyes from skipping five words at a time. She had touched his shoulder on purpose earlier, hadn’t she? This was useless. He gathered up the rest of the papers he hadn’t read yet and headed back to his room, conceding defeat to the butterflies settling in his stomach.

y/n woke up around 2 am, her aching body forcing her awake demanding a glass of water. Everything was dark around her, but she could hear Lucy’s steady breathing on the opposite side of the room. She did her best to get to her feet silently, ignoring the pain still twisting her side. The steps creaked lightly underneath her bare feet, the sound resonating loudly in the silent house. She reached the first landing discreetly with the hope that she wouldn’t wake anyone up. Instead, she was surprised to see a ray of light coming from under George’s door. It was ajar, so she pushed it lightly to see him hunched over his desk, still reading the newspapers she had left on the table a few hours earlier.

“You’re really stubborn you know?”

He didn’t seem surprised to hear her behind him.

“You’re one to talk,” he retorted.

She knew there was no point in arguing, especially at this hour.

“I’m getting some water, do you want anything?”

“Tea would be fine, thanks.” He turned around. His hair was visibly disheveled. Even though he didn’t put that much effort into it at regular hours, it was obvious that he was tired.

When she came back a few moments later, he was still absorbed by whatever article he was reading. He hardly paid attention when she set the steaming cup next to him. She didn’t really expect him to, so it really came as a surprise when he reached for her hand without taking his eyes off his notes. The contact of his hand on the bare skin of her arm almost made her spill her water.

“Take a look,” he simply said. He pointed at an annotation he had written in the margin of a newspaper article he was reading.

She sat on the stool next to him to inspect his findings. His scribbling was already hard to read in the daylight, but in the dead hours of the night it was almost impossible. He saw her squint and read aloud. The words evaded her. She blamed the lack of sleep and not the fact that his hand was still resting on her arm, gently swaying back and forth. She stared at it, its slow movements calming her down. It made her feel peaceful, appeased. She wondered however why her heart was beating faster if she was feeling so calm.

“y/n?”

“Hmm?” She looked up and was caught off guard by the gentleness in his eyes.

“You should go back to bed.”

“No, no, tell me. I’m listening.”

She could see the cogs turning in his head, weighing his options, whether forcing her to rest would be worth the effort or pointless from the start. He sighed.

“I found another death related to the client’s house. I’m trying to see if the haunting is caused by what we found earlier or if it’s something else entirely.”

“That’s way too much work to do by yourself in one night.”

“Someone has to do it. You should rest, I’ll tell you what I found in the morning.”

She got up, but she knew fully well she wasn’t letting him work all night alone. She took all the papers she could gather in her arms, ignoring his hushed protests, and made herself comfortable in his bed. He looked at her incredulously. She tapped the spot next to her, a large smile lighting up her face.

He sounded defeated when he said “why are you like this?”

“You look out for me, I look out for you.”

It shut him up on the spot. She got under the covers and organized the documents in piles around her while he stared silently, his mouth slightly agape.

“What? If we’re here all night we might as well get comfortable.”

His eyes were so round she thought it must hurt him. “We?”

She tapped the spot next to her again.

“Come on. You can’t tell me to rest if you’re not doing it either.”

Reluctantly, he joined her, looking like he was intruding in the sheets of a total stranger. At first, he pushed the cover aside. It was as if he was allergic to comfort. He kept his distance and even hesitated to reach over to grab a newspaper. They read in silence, the only sound coming occasionally from the turning of pages. He seemed to quickly forget about his awkwardness though, as he leaned in whenever he found something. He got closer each time and she took each opportunity to raise the blanket higher over him. He needed to sleep and he would, even if she had to sneak up on him. By the time he finished his mug, they were shoulder to shoulder, speaking in low voices in each other’s ear. Even in hushed tones, she could sense how enthusiastic he was about what he discovered one newspaper after the other. She could have listened to him talk for hours… if she wasn’t so exhausted. No matter how hard she tried to keep her eyes open, her head was drawing impossibly close to George’s shoulder. She was too comfortable to resist. When he noticed her dosing off, he spoke lower and lower before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She sunk into a deeper slumber, George’s even breathing rocking her to sleep, until the turning of pages disturbed her ears. He wasn’t going to sleep unless she made him. With her eyes still closed, she traced her fingers up his torso to find his neck, his chin, and finally his glasses. She took them off before turning her back on him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Forcing you to get some sleep,” she mumbled.

“Give me back my glasses.”

“Come get them yourself.”

She was certain he would concede defeat after this. What she hadn’t expected was George laying down closer against her with his arms draped around her waist. She froze. His hands traced their way down her arms and his hands locked around hers, gently trying to nudge his glasses out of her hands. She held them tighter, unable to keep herself from smiling. He had his head in the crook of her neck and she felt a smile forming on his lips too.

“You’re impossible. You’re stubborn, insufferable-”

“You used that one earlier already.”

He laughed. “You’re just proving my point.”

A light laugh escaped her too, only it made her bruises act up again. She flinched.

George let go of her hand, his fingers traveling lightly over her side.

“Does it still hurt?”

“A little bit.”

He sighed in her neck, making her shiver.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out sooner what the source was. I could have saved you the injury.”

Something clicked in her mind, clearing all desire to sleep for a moment.

“Is that why you’re staying up so late?”

He didn’t say anything back. She rolled back to face him, his hands now resting on her lower back.

“George, you’re not the reason why I couldn’t avoid running into a dresser.”

He laughed, but he avoided her eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault. Now please get some sleep.”

He looked back at her with intensity. His eyes looked dark in the dim light, almost black.

“On one condition.”

Before she could ask what he needed from her, he took it. His lips crashed against hers with a hunger she didn’t know he had. She was still in shock when he drew back, looking back at her hesitantly. He didn’t seem to know that she loved this unsuspected bold side of him. She tangled her fingers in his hair to pull him back in. He seemed surprised at first, but his hands quickly ran up her back to draw her nearer. She could have expected to feel anything from kissing George. Awkwardness, shyness, a few days ago she would have completely rejected the idea. She certainly wouldn’t have expected it to feel so right. His hands seemed to fit the small of her back like puzzle pieces locking perfectly in place. She was surprised at how quickly she had come to wanting more. She needed him, all of him, impossibly closer. She circled his hips with her leg while her hands roamed down his back. He smiled into each kiss, leaving her lips every now and then to trail her cheeks and down her neck. She looked back at him with sparkling eyes.

“So, one condition?”

“Don’t leave. Please.”

Her smile grew bigger.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fertility

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x immortal demigoddess wife reader that is the daughter of whatever god or goddess and she is not a hunter just a normal girl that make Dean and Sam immortal with her magic and everyone in the hunting community know her as Dean innocent wife and she don’t cared about that, she is pregnant with Dean baby and know she is walking to the kitchen with Dean shirt and boxer because is comfortable and perfect for her pregnancy belly and him just loved. happy ending with a lot of fluff, kisses, and possible smut. 

Summary: You want Dean to meet your mother, the Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. Only problem? She lives in Egypt and Dean hates flying.

Square Filled: Delphinium for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Man, this Bunker really does have everything about everything. This small library has vast knowledge about virtually every single monster there is and has ever been. Some of them are extinct but it’s still good to know about them just in case. You’ve come to learn that anything can happen in the hunting life.

You flip through the pages of a lore book about Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when you come across one that makes your heart soar and a smile spreads across your face. You run your finger delicately down the page and stare at the Goddess trapped inside the book.

“Hi, mom,” you whisper.

Your mother is Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. She is the protector of women, and she does a helluva job of it. You’re a demigoddess with only half of her powers, but you’re still like her in so many ways. Not only are you immortal, but you have the power to fight well in any hand-to-hand combat, mental manipulation, and mental torture. Your mother does it a lot better than you can, but you’ve done a good job at practicing over the centuries.

She offered you a place by her side in Egypt where she currently resides but you wanted to see the world and explore it on your own. You wanted to make your own adventures instead of being the shadow in hers. It’s a damn good thing you listened to your gut because you wouldn’t have met Sam and Winchester otherwise.

The first thing you did when you came to the United States was save a woman from being attacked by a man. This man wasn’t to exert his power over her by forcing her into doing things she didn’t want to do, and you put an end to it immediately. She got her revenge just like the thousands of other women you’ve saved from having the same fate. Saving women and torturing men has gotten you this far in life and you don’t plan on stopping, not within the next few centuries, at least.

The biggest thing you gained from your Mother is the power of fertility. You can’t count how many women you’ve come across who want to have children but can’t. They don’t know how it happens, but they wake up one day and realize they’re pregnant. Your powers have only been used for good and you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.

You just love bringing life into the world just like your mom.

The bar was in full swing, and you’re at the bar sipping your drink and watching everyone. You never know when someone is going to need you. There was a couple at the dart boards who were arguing over the point system. You kept an eye on them just in case you might need to jump in.

The bell above the front door rang as two people walked in. The shorter of the two made eye contact with you and it was as if time stopped. Because your mother is the Goddess of Beauty, you’re naturally flawless. Even if you’re not someone’s type, you’re beautiful to them.

“Drinking alone?” he asked when he approached you.

“Not if you sit down and drink with me,” you flirted.

“Sammy, be somewhere else,” the man said and sat next to you. The taller one rolled his eyes and left the bar counter. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N. Sammy your brother?”

“Yeah.”

“Younger or older?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re older. You have that energy about you, which means you’re just my type. I like them older.”

You were not about to tell him that you were centuries older than him.

You and Dean hit it off that night and not because he took you back to his room. That night also was the night you learned they are hunters. You saw the weapons in their bags and made a deduction paired with the fact that he had an Anti-Posession Tattoo on his chest. There was no time beating around the bush so you told both of them who you were, who your mother is, and the fact that you’re immortal. Dean didn’t care so that’s how you started seeing the eldest Winchester.

You’re not a hunter. You have no desire to be a hunter. You just help people where you can but instead of monsters, it’s humans. After a few years of being with them, you made both of them immortal per their request. You don’t make anyone immortal without their consent, and the brothers had plenty of time to think if they wanted this or not. You have the ability to take it away, but the years will catch up to the person immediately. That usually means death.

Still, you’re happy with the family you’ve made and wouldn’t trade it for the world.

You close the book on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses before getting up. You place a hand on your swollen belly and pat the area where you know your child can feel it. Once he gets old enough, he’ll be able to choose if he wants to be immortal or not. After he turns eighteen, of course, and you’d do it for him.

You’re wearing one of Dean’s shirts since they are so comfortable so when he sees you enter the kitchen, he grins. He even has your favorite flowers on display on the table. Such a gentleman.

“Damn, just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you walk in wearing that.”

“Good morning to you, too,” you greet. He kisses you quickly and bends down to kiss your stomach. “I want to take a trip with you.”

“Where?”

“I want you to meet my mother.”

“You want me to meet an Egyptian Goddess?”

“Yeah. She’s really sweet. I think you’d love her, and I know she’d love you.”

“I guess that’ll be okay.”

“We have to fly there. She’s in Egypt, naturally.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he says in a quiet voice.

“Are you sure? I know you hate flying.” He nods without saying anything, and you grab his face so he’s forced to look at you. “I can ask her to come here, but I don’t think she’ll take well to leaving Egypt. She has her own business that she won’t part from.”

“I’ll be okay.”

You lean up and kiss him quickly.

“I’d like to go before I get too pregnant to fly.”

The gears in Dean’s head turn as he thinks of a solution that will benefit you both.

“Why don’t we visit her until after the baby is born? That way she can meet him, too.”

“You just don’t want to fly. You’re pushing this as far as you can, aren’t you?” you chuckle.

“Sweetheart, I can’t help it. They’re dangerous.”

“You’re a big baby, you know that?”

You leave his side and sit down at the kitchen table so he can finish cooking in peace.

“I promise we can go after he is born. I really would love to meet the woman who made you.”

“Maybe afterward, we can meet your mom!” you gasp. “I can get us into Heaven. I know a God.”

“One parent at a time,” Dean chuckles and plates the food.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[aphroditelovesu]

Can you do a yandere! Annabeth x reader?

''You are mine and I am yours. No one can change this fact, I suggest you just accept the truth.'' — Annabeth Chase.

❝ 🦉 — lady l: I absolutely love Annabeth. As I would also be a daughter of Athena, if I were from the PJO universe, I understand my girl perfectly, so I'm more than happy to write to her! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 🧡🧡

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, jealousy, mention of murder, manipulation, gaslighting, unhealthy relationships.

❝🦉pairing: yandere!annabeth chase x gender neutral!reader.

Annabeth Chase had always been incredibly intelligent, proud and insightful, perhaps because she was the daughter of Athena or because she was always like that. Since she was a child, she was always sure of what she wanted and when she wanted something she didn't have the habit of giving up. She was never the giving up type and that only surfaced within her when she met you.

She is naturally a strategist and everything she does is carefully planned, calculated and executed. She never acts out of emotion but out of reason. Annabeth considers those who act without thinking to be fools and she will never be like that. Not even with her obsession.

Annabeth knows that her behavior around you, the thoughts she has for you are considered ''morally wrong'', but she doesn't care about that. She's a demigoddess, she has other issues to deal with than caring about morals and whether what she does or thinks is wrong.

She is extremely controlling and wants everything to be done her way, which suggests that she is arrogant. In a way, that's true, but Annabeth cares about you more than anyone else and she doesn't want you to get burned, so you should do things her way, the right way.

Annabeth is quite possessive, she hates it when you're around other people. You belong to her. From the moment you capture her attention, you become hers and she will not tolerate you betraying her in any way.

She hates it when people get close to you and she will use her intelligence to her advantage to keep people away from you. Whether manipulating you or them, she will not allow you to be stolen from her. Annabeth prefers not to get her hands dirty, so she will get rid of troubles in a way where she doesn't have to kill. At least not directly.

Annabeth admires you, she adores you to a certain extent, but she wants you to adore her more, to venerate her. She is a very proud daughter of Athena, she feels great pride and admiration for her mother and hopes, no, she wants you to worship her as much as she worships the gods.

She worships all gods, even those she has animosity towards their children, Annabeth respects them greatly and expects you to do the same. If you don't pay attention to the gods, she will have to correct you to fix this.

Annabeth is very affectionate, even more than she likes to admit. She wants physical contact for as long as possible, hugs, cuddles and kisses are precious to her and they are all yours. She loves it when you let her read to you, tell you about the gods and their stories. These are her favorite moments together, not only can she boast of her knowledge but also spend time with you.

She is very manipulative and will use this to her advantage, to keep you away from everyone she considers a threat to your relationship. At first, it was just campers that she didn't see any reason for you to get close to, but it quickly escalated to the point where she didn't even want your family around you. Annabeth is smart enough to know that you won't abandon your family that easily, but she will find a way. She always finds a way.

Annabeth will punish you for anything wrong you do, in this case, what she considers wrong. She wants to control you completely, to make you so dependent on her that you will need her for anything you are going to do. She's not the type to speak more than once and when she gives you an order, she expects you to obey without question.

All she wants is you, to be with you. And she knows she will have you. Annabeth just wants a peaceful life with you, without having to worry about others. You've been through so much, shouldn't you be able to be happy? Annabeth will ensure that nothing and no one, not even the gods, get in your way. She is ready to fight anyone for you.

[bitethedevil]

WIP - Raphael as the "dad who didn't want a dog"-meme

(This is just a silly little WIP for something that happens much later in my fic More Than Our Fathers (Raphael x Demigoddess!Reader). I just had a weird urge for Raphael to become a dog-dad)

While Raphael was talking to someone, you wandered around a bit. It was all a lot to take in. There were so many miserable soldiers of the Blood War. The conditions on the ground were awful and the camps were, of course, sectioned after hierarchy. The further you walked, the worse the conditions became.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard the hollow sound of what sounded like a tiny bark behind you. You turned around and looked down on the ground. Your eyes softened immediately as you saw the small fiery creature on the ground in front of you.

It looked like a hellhound, but it was much more dog-like than the huge beasts you had seen walking around. It was just a puppy. It had red glowing eyes that were looking up at you. It was clear that it would grow up to be huge from the big floppy ears it had and big paws. Its fur was a rusty reddish color. It was absolutely adorable.

“Hello, you,” you said to it in a baby-voice.

Its tongue lolled out of its mouth and its little tail started wagging. It barked at you and a puff of smoke came out of its mouth. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen during your time in the Hells.

You cast a spell that made you immune to fire. You cast another to make your hand numb, in case it would bite you with those already strong jaws. You knelt down and let it sniff your hand. Its tiny nose sniffed you with curiosity and it let you pet it.

“Oh, aren’t you precious,” you cooed and smiled.

Your smile faltered slightly when you remembered where you were and the fact that this pup would most likely grow up to be fodder for the front lines.

Animals had always been your biggest weakness. You weren’t too fussed about people, but the thought of animals being hurt tugged at your heartstrings.

Raphael had just left the tent where he had talked with the lieutenants, when he found you outside waiting for him. He looked at the puppy in your arms and then at your pleading eyes.

“No,” he said firmly. “Perish the thought.”

“But—”

“No,” he said again. “No pets. Let it go.”

“’It’ is a she,” you said. “She could be a working dog, a guard dog!”

“Sibylla,” he said tiredly.

“You wouldn’t let me get a cat either,” you said. “I’ll take care of her. She won’t go in the furniture, and she’d be well-trained and everything. I’ve owned lots of dogs before.”

“It is not a dog,” he said.

“She,” you corrected.

“Fine. She is not a dog,” he said and pointed at the puppy in your arms. “Not entirely at least. Her mother might have been from the looks of it, but ‘she’ is a hellhound. I am not taking that half-breed into my home.”

You looked at him in outrage and lowered your voice.

“So, what if she’s a ‘half-breed’? So are we, if you want to be technical about it,” you said defensively and held the pup closer to you. “No need to be rude about it.”

“I grew up around those beasts,” he said with disdain as he looked at the pup. “My father has a fondness for them. I am not budging. Let it go.”

“What will happen to if I do?” you said. “Will it survive? Be honest.”

Raphael sighed and gritted his teeth.

“It will not,” he said. “It is the product of a hellhound breeding with a simple dog. The mother never survives, and hence the pups rarely do for long either. It is the way of nature. Now, let it go.”

Your heart broke and you held the pup closer. You felt its warm little nose nuzzle into your neck as you held it, and tears were threatening to fall down your cheeks.

“Don’t,” Raphael warned at seeing your tears. “Not here.”

He looked around to see if anyone was looking in your direction. You started sniffling when the dog licked your cheek.

Raphael groaned in frustration.

“Fine. Keep the damn mutt,” he groaned. “But it will need to be trained and if it ruins any furniture or makes any trouble at all, we are getting rid of it. Understand?”

“Yes, yes,” you said relieved and nodded. “Thank you.”

Raphael looked at the pup with clear disdain. It was staring excitedly at him with its tongue out of its mouth.

“Such an ugly little thing,” he said.

The puppy yipped at him, and smoke and sparks came out of its mouth. Raphael was quick to take a step back. Was he scared of hellhounds? You weren’t going to press him on it now that he had finally said yes.

“I think I’ll name you Asha,” you cooed to the pup. “Do you like that?”

Raphael mumbled something that sounded like ‘spare me’ and rolled his eyes.

Mephistopheles suddenly turned his attention to Asha who had been sitting beside you like a statue for the entirety of the impromptu meeting from your father in law. She was the size of a big grown up dog now, and she was still growing. He looked at her with a toothy smile that could have been interpreted as fond, if you did not know that he was just as much of a performer as his son was.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” he said in that smooth breathy voice of his. “Impressive. Especially considering that you do not speak Infernal.”

You looked down at Asha. Her red eyes were following Mephistopheles’ movements intently.

“She understands common just fine it seems,” you said. “I have had her since she was a pup.”

“They are quite intelligent creatures,” he said.

“Indeed,” you said. “I understand you have an interest for hellhounds as well.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “I have been breeding my own race of them. It has been a little pet-project of mine for quite some time. They are tougher, meaner, and larger than even the largest of the Nessian warhounds. Of course, they are purebreds, and not mutts like your attentive little girl there.”

You smiled politely, though the smile was strained.

“I’ve always found that mutts have their own charm,” you said.

“Certainly,” Mephistopheles said and turned his attention to you with a charming smile. “Though they are, of course, completely unpredictable. You never know if the pups will grow up to take after their simple dog mothers or their hellhound fathers. No matter what, the blood is diluted, and you often end up with a hound that is of little use. A half-breed pup does not stand a chance in a pack of purebred hellhounds, and they more often than not end up as dinner…”

He might have still been smiling, but you could easily tell in his pale eyes that you were not talking about dogs anymore. His smile widened even more when he heard the familiar ‘poof’ or Raphael appearing behind him. Raphael looked from you to him with a look of surprise and then annoyance.

“Mephistopheles,” Raphael greeted his father with a cold tone. “My apologies. I did not expect a meeting.”

Mephistopheles did not even look back at him but kept his eyes on you.

“I was not here to meet with you, dear son,” he drawled and walked up the steps to where you were sitting. “A pleasure to properly make your acquaintance, Sibylla.”

He kissed your hand while still making eye contact. You pressed back against your seat as he did. Despite yourself, he did terrify you.

He looked down at Asha and smiled. He reached out to pet her. Had he not moved his hand away fast enough, she would have bitten him. The snap of her strong jaws echoed through the throne room. Mephistopheles’ eyes widened for a second, but he quickly brushed it off with a chuckle. Asha growled at him.

“Apologies,” you said to him. “As you said yourself…half-breeds and their unpredictability.”

He smirked at you with just a hint of admiration in his eyes before disappearing in a flash of smoke and embers.

You sighed in relief and the tension in your body disappeared the second your father-in-law did. Asha quickly returned to her cheerful self and started wiggling her entire body in joy as she went to greet Raphael. For once, he leaned down to scratch her behind her ear and her tail started wagging even more.

“Such a good girl,” he praised and petted her. “Yes, you are, darling.”

“Don’t teach her it’s fine to bite guests,” you said to him.

“She is a smart girl,” Raphael said and rubbed Asha’s belly. “She is allowed when the guest in question is my father.”

You rolled your eyes at him but could not help but smile.

[vicxss]

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: you and Clarisse take an evening swim in the sea

Warnings: none, pure cuteness

English is not my first language

I wake up half bewildered with knocks on the door of the chalet. My brothers are sleeping, I wish I had a heavy sleep so I get up and go to the door.When I open it I see Clarisse looking at the camp, afraid that someone will see her.

Y/N: Clarisse? , what are you doing here at this hour?. - I ask opening the door for her to enter

Clarisse: I wanted to bathe in the sea with you. - she enters and closes the door soon coming to hug me

Y/N: at this time?. - I feel her kiss my neck

Clarisse: lately we don’t have time just for the two of us, or we’re training or taking care of the kids. I want to spend time with my girlfriend. - talk and give me a kiss I understand her, I also want a time like this. We’ve been too busy with camp stuff to have some alone time, especially since no one knows we’re dating, but it had to be dawn?

Y/N: I also want to spend time with you, but it’s cold outside. - I speak and hide my face in her neck

Clarisse: I warm you up, I get very attached to you. - she squeezes me

S/N: ok, vou trocar de roupa. - Vou me separar e colocar um biquíni.

Once we're ready, we hold hands and go to the beach.

Y/N: are you sure no one will appear?. - I ask undressing

Clarisse: everyone is asleep, and Chiron has other more important parts of the camp to see. - she enters the water and calls me with her finger

Y/N: that was incredibly attractive. - I go to her and she lifts me up making me with my legs wrapped around her waist

Clarisse: everything I do looks attractive to you. - she smiles and runs her hand on my thigh

Y/N: it’s because my girlfriend is very beautiful, and has incredible muscles. - kiss her cheek and she gives an even bigger smile

Clarisse: yeah?, that’s because you haven’t seen mine yet. - speaks and begins to kiss me I run my arms around your neck lifting a little in your lap. She asks passage with her tongue and I release feeling her make a caress on my waist.

Y/N: we are not going to do it here, are just kisses heard La Rue?. - I ask separating when I feel her massage my breast

Clarisse: as you want princess. - says distributing kisses around my neckI hear a noise in the forest but when I pay more attention to Clarisse kisses me again. Safe in the back of his neck making a caress on the spot.We heard a whisper.

Chiron: isn’t it too late to be here demigoddesses?. - Ask and we split up on the spot

Y/N: Chiron? , we were just enjoying the beach. - I speak nervous trying to explain

Chiron: I believe they were really enjoying it, but they will still be grounded. - says as we leave

Clarisse: no dessert for a week?. - asks getting dressed and coming to help me

Chiron: for two, you could have been hurt if something appeared

Y/N: we know, we are sorry

Chiron: next time you want to be alone, find a less open place, anyone can come here. - speaks looking at us

Clarisse: was that a hint?. - ask me hugging

Chiron: it’s not the first time I’ve caught someone in this situation, that’s exactly why I come here. Now go back to the camp. - says and goes away

Clarisse: we just got caught and he just told us to be more careful. - asks looking where he went

Y/N: yes, but we are still without dessert

Clarisse: I think it was super worth it. - gives me a kiss on the forehead

Y/N: let’s go back, I’m shaking more than dog after bathing. - I talk and she starts laughing

Clarisse: I can’t believe you said that kkkk. - she laughs so much that she even puts her hand on her belly

Y/N: goes laughing even if I get sick is you who will take care of me. - I speak and point to her

Clarisse: I take care with pleasureThe way to the camp was filled with laughter and teeth.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Female Giyuu Reader with Yandere Platonic Poseidon (She’s his daughter, making her a Demigoddess) and he either A. Didn’t know about her existence or B. Didn’t care about her as she was weak and soft, until he saw how strong she is now, meeting his ideals of ‘perfection’ (This is going to be angst)

However she harshly tells Poseidon he isn’t her ‘Father’, as her REAL family is her deceased half-sister and friend Sabito, her teacher and master Urokodaki, and her new parental figures Sasaki and Adam (They accept her and tell her she isn’t a burden, nor is she ‘worthless’)

She doesn’t care about him, especially since she wants to SAVE Humanity. and told him that she’ll take his head if he tries to harm those she swore to save/protect (As a Demon Slayer, it’s her job to put her life on the line to save humanity, no matter what)

She likes to be around Sasaki, as he’s a very warm and nice to her (Since he’s a swordsman, they have some common ground) and even made her favorite meal (Resulting him witness her smile for the first time, which he felt blessed to witness such a lovely smile, and encourages her to smile more, making Reader happy)

-It had been so long- so many years, since you saw your father, Poseidon. He deemed you weak and threw you out, not willing to put up with any weakness in his bloodline.

-His words haunted you every day of your life, alongside the death of the woman who took you in, adopting you as your big sister, and your best friend, Sabito, both who died protecting you and others against demons.

-You struggled with your grief, survivor’s guilt is what your mentor and friend, Kojiro, called it, that you felt guilty that they died instead of you, because you felt like if you had been stronger, you would have been able to protect them.

-You focused and trained hard, with the Demon Slayer Corps and with Kojiro, who wasn’t a member of the Corps, but was welcomed as an ally and friend of your leader, Lord Ubuyashiki.

-Your hard work paid off after years, becoming the Water Hashira, but your guilt, your pain of those who had lost, never left, and the sting of your father’s words always seem to shake you.

-You had many friends, the other Hashira and new students, as well as Kojiro whom you would always consider as a friend and more of a father than Poseidon ever would be.

-Adam was another whom you found yourself to be adopted by the father of all humans, not caring that you were a demi-goddess, he treated you like all of his children, with gentle affections and praises, patting your head gently whenever you managed to do something, no matter how small.

-You hid your emotions- your pain, well, appearing to others as a stoic, emotionless woman, but those who were close to you, your friends and family, knew that you were actually a gentle and kind person, one who held your pain and sorrow inside.

-That was the only thing that was similar to your actual father, your stoic personality, but while his was natural, only breaking to show disgust or anger, yours is one you built up yourself, trying to protect yourself and others.

-You tried not getting attached to others, especially Tanjiro and Nezuko, whom you saved so long ago, and you became like their big sister, doting on them and teaching Tanjiro, and you grew even closer, learning that the spirit of Sabito trained him when he first started to learn how to use a sword.

-Sabito and Tsutako never showed themself to you, but there were calm days when you felt their presences, they were familiar and warm, and those were the rare days you would break and let yourself cry and mourn them once again.

-The day you met Poseidon again was a day you had hoped to never had, but it was your job to deal with demons. When you got the call that there was a demon in the seaside district, your old home, you had to respond, being the closest Hashira.

-Tanjiro and Nezuko did a fine job managing to hold the demon off, letting the gods and humans in the seaside district escape to safety, but when another demon showed up, Tanjiro couldn’t handle both.

-You immediately rushed in, using your breathing style and razor-sharp waves of water surrounded you, Tanjiro and Nezuko, protecting them but tearing the two demons to pieces before you decapitated them.

-You nearly leapt out of your skin as you heard a voice call to you, “Y/N?” you turned, your eyes wide, seeing your father, who arrived with guards, seeing that you had handled everything on your own, with help from Tanjiro.

-Poseidon smiled, seeing that you had grown so much, you were so powerful now, harnessing the water just like him, you were a strong warrior, “You’ve grown so much, my daughter. I’m proud of-” you lifted a hand, cutting him off, surprising everyone around you, “Save it- I don’t want to hear it, Lord Poseidon.”

-He was stunned by your snub as Kojiro and some of other Slayers arrived, hearing the same call you did and to help Tanjiro who needed medical attention, “Y/N- my daughter, why are so acting so cold-”

-You turned to him, your eyes like ice, so similar to his own, “You are not my father- you abandoned me, threw me out when I was only a child, one that you deemed weak. My father is Kojiro here, not you.”

-Kojiro was stunned, learning that you were a demi-goddess, as was Tanjiro, both of them shocked that you were speaking to Poseidon in such a way, one being a god, two being a king, and three being your biological father.

-Poseidon tried to defend himself, “I did that to help you- to help you grow! Look how strong you are now, Y/N! You don’t have to fight demons anymore for Hades, you can come home to the sea and take your rightful place at my side! You don’t need those humans!”

-You picked Nezuko up, as she was in her child form, holding her on your hip and her arms encircled your neck because Tanjiro was being carried out and Kojiro grabbed her box, “These humans are my family, Lord Poseidon. And unlike you, I’m going to defend them with my whole being, because that’s what those with power are supposed to do- protecting the weak!”

-Kojiro put his hand on the back of your head, startling you out of your rant as you sent one last glare to Poseidon, who you knew didn’t care about you, he only cared about your strength, your image.

-Poseidon was furious at your snub, rage filling every inch of him that you- his daughter, was being so stubborn and ungrateful!

-He knew he needed to go to Hades, who oversaw the Demon Slayers, he would help bring his niece back to her correct home.

-Only he didn’t, Hades knew the truth of your circumstances, he watched you struggle and grow, but unlike your father who abandoned you, your uncle helped guide you, pointing you to the Demon Slayers, but once there, he showed no favoritism, less than five people knew your relationship to Hades, as you wanted to keep it quiet, not wanting to be treated differently.

-So when Poseidon finally came to him, after so many years, after seeing you after all this time, demanding his help to get you back, he refused, “You chased your child away yourself, it’s up to you to right your wrongs. But heed this well, Poseidon, should you harm any of those under my supervision, and that includes Y/N’s mentor, I will not hold back.”

-Poseidon felt the chill run up his spine, knowing full well that Hades would hold true to his word, and he left, scowling darkly, his mind racing on how he was going to get you back.

-Kojiro, after he had to calm you down when you had a mild panic attack, as seeing Poseidon brought back so many memories that you nearly fainted, took you to eat at your favorite hot pot restaurant, ordering all of your favorites and telling you to eat your fill.

-Kojiro pretended not to notice, when you sat down, seeing your smile, which he didn’t see often, showing him that you were truly happy.

-He just reached over and ruffled your hair lightly, “I’m proud of you, Y/N- now eat!” you couldn’t help but smile once more which made him chuckle and the two of you enjoyed your meal, just you and your real father.

[togetherhearted]

Hey, I saw your requests were open and thought I'd pop by. Can I get Buddha and Brunhild (romantic) and Adam (platonic) with a moon goddess/demigoddess reader who's like Ranni the Witch from elden ring?

Sure! Sadly I just heard of Ranni. Wanted to try Elder Ring but Souls games are not my forte 😅 So I took the permission to go on amore generic Moon Witch path. Hope it's still ok!

BUDDHA,BRUNHILDE AND ADAM WITH A MOON GODDESS

WAXING MOON

Buddha found you performing a ritual if yours under the Waxing moon. You in the center of the paintings you made on the ground of the balcony. You had to improvise as you preferred to not be caught by the other gods. -My my, what we have here?Performing a ritual in secret?- Buddha's voice interrupted you. Your head turned towards him -Yeah...I heard about the upcoming Ragnarok and...I wanted to do...something- Your lover sat outside the magic circle - Quite kind of you, bunny. Do you mind if I stay?- You look at the moon -Not at all. Maybe being this close to me will increase your powers- You joked;closing your eyes;your mind set on the goal to help humanity and him.

FULL MOON

When Brunhilde asked you if you could, perhaps use your magic to help during the Ragnarok you did not hesitate to prepare whatever you needed. Brunhilde sat near you, outside the circle. The crystals you put around, under the full moon were sparkling;charging with magic she didn't have knowledge of. -Once changed these crystals should be able to protect your fighters.- -The "should" worries me- She said coldly. -I'm trying my best here- You murmured. Brunhilde expression softened -I know...I'm sorry...I'm...tense I guess- You smiled, looking at the sky;you closed your eyes and made a wish;hopefully it could help your loved one.

DARK MOON

-My child, is everything alright?- You opened your eyes at the gentle sound of Adam's feet on the grass. There was almost no light, the moon dark tonight. A perfect occasion to read the oracles before sleep. You shook your head;admitting to him that the upcoming Ragnarok was making you nervous and you wanted to know humanity's fate. Or at least his. Adam put a hand on your shoulder with the kind look of a loving father. -Don't do this to yourself. Let our actions speak for us. You don't need an oracle. Besides;whatever happens;whenever I win or lose, I want you to smile- You opened your mouth trying to interrupt him. Adam shook his head and ruffled your hair -I will not be able to rest tonight if I see your your sad expression,if you happen to know this is our last night and I die fighting- -Alright...- Adam nodded his head and sat beside you; contemplating life. Maybe he was right;you didn't need to know, for once.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hay ariiii!! have a freebie 💝

The heart of the forest.

Clothes of rags. You're more wraith than girl. Weeks of damp. Scavenging bark and gleaning rotting apples and withered berries.

Even Animals avoid this place. They fear the old gods. The ones with no names. No faces. No sigils.

Not even blight and hollow stomachs can drive them this far inland. But you are not an animal. And your desperation is greater than hunger.

Because it's not just your world at stake if your Godmother's plan succeeds. But. All worlds. The Caldera roils. It yearns. And you feel it as surely as you feel the sun going down and the moon rising.

But youth and strength can only carry you so far. And as you walk up the steps, you hardly reach the top of the third step before you collapse. Cold stone biting into your cheek. Your ribs. Your hands. And you know nothing. Not the twisted, gnarled roots- slowly reclaiming the temple. Not the grey sky. Nothing.

_____________

"Sweetheart," Jason murmured, turning to wrap his arms around you, "I'm here-"

"But where is here?" you pant, rubbing your knuckles down your chest.

"Gotham," he said opening his eyes. And not for the first time, he wondered what you saw when you closed your eyes. Where you went when you slept.

Your heart was pounding and your skin was cool. Almost cold. Despite the blankets he piled on you and the fact that he was inches from you. "In New Jersey. Earth." A human world? he added questioningly. You weren't terrestrial. Or not human. Of that they were all certain- but. What that meant- none of them were sure.

Only that you were... Benevolent. Or perhaps just tamed.

"What time is it?" you ask, rolling onto your back.

"A little after 3," Jason murmured, kissing your forehead. Wondering at the scar there. What had left it. Nothing tended to hurt you. You weren't Clark invulnerable. Not Bulletproof. But. When Bruce had taken a swing at you you hadn't flinched- even if you had dropped the bag you were holding. Full of food and not the gold bars they had thought.

"I should get up," you sigh.

"Or," Jason murmured, kissing your temple, "we can just watch a movie." Sometimes he could bore you back to sleep.

[bella-rose29]

the jockwood universe (college au)

basically jockwood is a thing now, and these are the generic world building hc's of this au :)

essentially what's going to happen is a bunch of x reader fics set within this universe, all probably slightly different but every one of them set with this same background to them, so... yeah!

(also a special thank you to the multiverse of George for helping answer my pestering questions)

Lockwood is on the football team/part of the university football society

Also the fencing society

George and Lockwood are friends from high school but are in separate circles in college

George is also on the ice hockey team 

Kipps is on the football team too

When they were like… preteens or something Kipps and Lockwood had a friendly football match where they were on opposing teams

Lockwood’s team beat Kipps’ by… a lot (and Kipps totally isn’t bitter about it)

Holly is a student rep

Lucy is in debate club and fencing

Skull is a campus cat who hisses and scratches everyone but Lucy

He’s called Skull bc he’s got a weird patch on his head that looks a bit like a skull

And also Lucy seems to always know what Skull wants?? It’s like she can actually talk to him or something 👀

Barnes is a very tired senior lecturer who is the academic advisor to the trio + Holly and Kipps, and he wishes they would stop hogging his office hours

The Winkmans are a family who live in town and sit on their porch every morning shouting abuse at people who walk past

Bobby!!! On the football team and also in band (plays the clarinet probably)

Kate and Ned as well - both on the football team and hang out with Kipps obviously, along with Bobby

Rotwells College is in the same town/city and often competes against the Fittes university (that Penelope is head of)

Flo goes to Rotwells’ and is in their fencing society, but she sneaks onto the Fittes campus all the time to feed the ducks and throw frozen peas at passing students

Visitors - there’s a lot of local folklore and haunted buildings, and Lockwood and Co go and investigate because they’re Like That

Technology is modern, and as such they have phones

And group chats

Obviously Lockwood and Co is the name of Lockwood, Lucy, George, and Holly’s group chat

Lockwood is surprisingly old-fashioned when it comes to technology though? Like he has a record player and cassette tapes in his room that he just whips out every now and then

People’s courses/degrees!

Lockwood’s course is chemical engineering with fine art/art history

George - chemistry

Lucy - English (language and literature)

Holly - English literature + publishing

Kipps - Architecture (but he’s a dick about it)

Ned - Spanish/Spanish + international development

Kat - chemical engineering

Bobby - history

Flo - classical and archaeological studies

tag list:

@no-morning-glories, @t2sh0, @informedimagining, @strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @ahead-fullofdreams, @light-23, @locknco, @briar-rose23, @mischivana, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @superpositvecloudshipper, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @mitskiswift99, @anathemaloren, @ran23sblog, @taygrls, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @augustisintheair, @wordsarelife, @tournesol77, @novelizt, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @curseofhecate, @karensirkobabes, @mrsklockwood, @whenselenefallsinlove, @zoom1374, @a-taken-url

and the multiverse of George (of course): @avdiobliss, @neewtmas, @oblivious-idiot, @bobbys-not-that-small, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, and @maraschinomerry 💕

I'm aware that there are a lot of people and if I've forgotten you then I am so so sorry (my tag lists are all over the place whoops), so if there is anybody who wants to be added to my lockwood tag list, then please go here!

I am aware that it has been a while, but from now on I will be checking this post every time I write a new fic to see who is there, so head on over to give a comment or a like and I'll pop you on for next time! <3

[winterzxsoldierz]

Well You Know Me...

Avenger!Bucky Barnes X Goofy!Villain

Part two

Warnings: Reader being an idiot and a flirt, no mentions of Y/N, Reader is a Female and a demigoddess who loves to cause chaos.

"Frosty the Bucky was a grumpy grumpy soul...and his arm was made of black and gold." Your voice rings through the loud speaker of the intercoms of your lair as Bucky walks in. "Hey James, looking fine per usual." You say with a chuckle and Bucky could just hear the smirk in your voice, he rolls his eyes, "Where are you?" he scoffs, already fed up with you, "Ah ah ah, you gotta find me, with those white wolf senses." You tease, and again he rolls his eyes. "Oh, hey there." You smile as Bucky approaches from behind, you spin in your throne chair for the evil effect and you grin.

"You're being an insufferable nuisance." Bucky tells you simply, while glaring at you, the chair you're in, it's ridiculous, he can only describe it to be unicorn vomit, if that's even a thing.

"More like an irresistible nuisance because you just keep visiting me, what's this like now...your third time i believe. you know what they say, third times a charm." A cheeky smirk grows on the curve of your lips and you laugh. "How much charm will it take for me to get that shirt off?" You slip in and tilt your head, the smirk on your lips grows seeing the pink tint Bucky's cheeks.

"Enough of the games, where is he?" Bucky demands, his tone taking on some sternness, as he eyes you wanting to see if you slip.

"Where's who James? gonna have to be more specific." You say, your tone mocking innocence. "Are you assuming i kidnapped someone because i most definitely did." you smirk wickedly. "He's alive, i think." Bucky blinks, "You think?" he stares at you. You smirk and nod. "Yes i think, i hadn't checked on him after i hit him with that." You point over to the long clown fist sitting on your desk, Bucky is about to speak but you raise you hand to silence him. "In my defense he was trying to rob me, i ain't rich, so i had to do something to protect my McDonald's money." Bucky face palms and nods, "Just show me where he is."

When you get to were your hostage is you grin wickedly and chuckle, Bucky isn't amused, as usual but you don't care, you walk slowly and speak animatedly "Ladies and Gentlemen, prepare yourself for my hostage and clutch your man bags and purses tightly, because he will try to steal your gas money or-" Bucky cuts you off "For Christ sake open the damn door." You bow and smirk "I love it when you're mean." Bucky's eyes roll "Why do i deal with this." he whispers but you hear him and laugh. Opening up the large purple door that has a large sign up with the words danger on it, it reveals a boy tied to a chair with a paper bag over his head that says punch me in big bold letters, but the bag isn't what Bucky was looking at, it was the suit the boy was wearing, a specific spider suit and Bucky loudly curses "What the fuck" You snicker "LANGUAGE." you snip in and toss the key to the chains in the air, Bucky catches it, "Good to see you're not dead bug boy." you watch as Bucy removes the chains from Peter

Bucky looks at you with a glare "He wasn't trying to rob you, just so you know." Bucky shakes his head "And his name is spider-boy."

"Bug boy." you retort.

"Spider-boy." Bucky says back."

"Bug boy." You roll, your eyes.

"Spider-boy." Bucky says again, a little frown on his face.

"Bug boy." You say again, determined to win this argument.

Peter just stares at you both, his eyes going back and forth to both of you as you both argue about his superhero name, he raises his finger "Actually it's, Spider-Man."

"No." You and Bucky say at the same time looking Peter's way." you look back at Bucky, now with a plan to trick him.

"Spider-boy." You say a knowing grin coming to your lips.

"Bug boy." Bucky argues and the pauses." "No wait- how." Bucky stammers and you laugh." "I win." You sing as Bucky grumbles and walks with Peter to the exit."

2 months later

Back in the compound Bucky sits, a bored expression on his face, no missions were happening at the moment, he looks down at his phone and sees about 5 text messages from you, how you manged to get his phone and put you number in it he'll never know. "I see you're texting your girlfriend." Sam teases, making Bucky jump a bit, he wasn't even sure when Sam came in but he glares at Sam grumpily and scoffs "She is not my girlfriend Sam." Bucky grumpily replies but to Sam it sounded defensive to defensive. "Sure sure, not your girlfriend, but you always visit her." Sam smiles, it's smug and Bucky hates it. "Whatever." Bucky shoves his phone into his pocket and gets up. "Where are you going Buck? i was only messing with you." Sam says, with a teasing smirk watching Bucky walk off. Sam is 100% sure it's to go see you.

Tag list: @hisredheadedgoddess28

i'll make a part three, stay tuned😉 part one here <-

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9

complete

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 10k

warnings : drinking, drunken state

taglist : @demigoddess-of-ghosts ; @oblivious-idiot ; @neewtmas ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @bella-rose29 ; @maraschinomerry ; @novelizt ; @fudosl ; @archiveoftara ; @cassiopeiia24 (i think i didn't forget anyone but i could be wrong)

content : I couldn’t resist some callbacks to the attic scene before fittes’ party, George wears a bowtie for all the fans of ali in a bowtie out there know that it was my frame of reference, I tried to not make it look like a direct copy of the fittes party but there are a lot of similarities

note : life got so out of hand, I sincerely apologize that it took so long but to make up for it it’s quite long and I really really like this part it’s THE part I’ve fantasized about since I started writing and I really like how the main scenes came out

Also sorry I know it’s been a long time but pt8 picks up right after the last scene of pt7

She realized what she just said as she walked past him entering the kitchen. She turned around suddenly, bumping into him as he followed her inside.

“I’m so sorry Lockwood I’m being so rude.”

“Well, you’re not wrong but you could tell me this without stepping on my toes.”

She looked down and fair enough she was. She took a few steps back, apologizing again and she bumped into the cupboards behind her.

“Ow!”

“Am I gonna have to stitch you up again?” Lockwood asked, amused.

“I’m so sorry.” She said again sitting down in the chair closest to her.

“You keep saying that.”

“Well, I am. I’m sorry I talked to you that way in front of Lucy, and I’m sorry I talked to you like that in the hall, and I’m sorry I came into your life yelling at you and making you angry-”

“I’m not angry.” He interrupted. “Just… frustrated.” They stayed in silence for a while staring at each other.

“I can’t figure you out.” He admitted in a lower voice.

She could have told him the same thing.

“You hate me, then you warm up to me, then you give me the cold shoulder and hate me again… what am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t hate you. I just… I can’t figure you out either. I never know what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I hired you because I think you’re good, I hate fighting, I genuinely want to help you with this whole thing, and I think it’s pretty nice when we get along. Is that clear enough?”

Not quite, she thought. What were they supposed to be? Did he consider them actual friends now or were they far from it? Did he mean it when he said that he had always been honest with her? His charming act did look awfully familiar every time he used it with clients. She didn’t know what she was supposed to think. All the questions that clouded her mind when she thought about him came rushing in.

“We’re strictly colleagues then? Or am I allowed to say that we’re friends.” She managed.

“I think friends is more fitting. I mean what kind of employer would I be sleeping in the same couch as my underling?”

She blushed furiously at the memory of his arms around her.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Did I go too far that night? I never meant to-”

“Lockwood it’s alright. It was sweet really… I didn’t expect you to watch over me like that.”

They both looked anywhere else but each other, embarrassed at the thought of that night. She didn’t regret it, quite the contrary. She still thought about it fondly.

“It was nice… I felt safe.” She added in a tone barely above a whisper.

“I know you’d do the same for me…”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked, his frown deepening as he looked into her eyes, almost begging.

“I… I just don’t see what I did to make you so sure of it. Was it the insults or the yelling?”

He laughed.

“You saved my life twice. I didn’t think I’d have to remind you that, I rather thought you’d gloat and annoy me with it every single day.”

“You’re right I should.”

They exchanged another look, warmer and more knowing.

She got up to prepare some tea. She made his cup the way he liked it and handed to him. He smiled at her with the familiarity she liked so much. She turned around before he could notice the blush on her cheeks. She then prepared two more cups, George’s with slightly more sugar than hers and placed them on an unused corner of the Thinking Cloth. She called on George and handed him his tea. When she looked up at Lockwood his smile wasn’t as wide. The three of them settled around the table.

“Alright, let’s plan a heist.”

--

“Why can’t we just push it back one week? It’d give us the extra time we need to prepare.”

“The event for the launch of their new rapier line will be more crowded and it lasts an entire day. Showing up there will never be enough to keep us out of suspicion. It has to be the fundraiser tomorrow.”

Lockwood hadn’t looked up from the plans of the building. They were trying to figure out the safest route for Lucy and Norrie to reach the documents they needed while staying as far from the party as possible and they were running out of time. Lockwood had had a hard time getting them in the fundraiser. For starter he had tried reaching out to different contacts to get in. The only result he got was a newfound rage against the Organization for not inviting them in the first place. She could have guessed a million things that could have motivated Lockwood to get them into this party at all costs. She didn’t think Bunchurch would be the one. Apparently the less than prestigious agency had some agents attending the event. In fact, all agencies had some representatives attending, or almost all of them. Something about showing the growing bonds between agencies and the Silverpoint Organization. Lockwood’s renewed determination led him to go all the way down to their headquarters to demand an invite using a mix of his usual charms and some threats of bad press. He had been convincing enough to get the three of them in. He had just put the envelopes down on the Thinking Cloth with a triumphant smile when someone knocked on the door. George led Lucy in the kitchen and they all smiled widely when she told them she and Norrie would join them. All the pieces were finally coming together. Then they studied the plans of the house and realized that it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

First of all because it was a mansion and not a house. The surface was significantly larger and the number of rooms they had to cover seemed impossible to search in just a few hours. Second of all because it was a city mansion, just north of Hyde Park, with other buildings right next to it, no garden and the front door accessible from the street. No other point of entry and neighbours on both sides. It had been fairly easy to determine which rooms to search first, compared to figuring out how the girls were supposed to get inside and out while remaining unseen.

“Wait what’s this?” Norrie asked picking up some of the research y/n had done on the party. She had spent so much time looking at those papers she couldn’t bear to look at them again.

“It’s details about the party, the agencies and companies that will be represented, the staff I managed to get information about, that kind of thing.”

“Well, if we know which catering company they’ll be hiring why don’t we use that?”

“How?”

“I don’t know… Maybe get hired, be a waitress during the event and use that to slip out?”

They all stared at her, in disbelief that they didn’t make the connection sooner.

“That’s a good idea but I’m not sure we’ll have enough time to get hired.” Lucy raised a good point.

“They’re always looking for extra people at the last minute for this kind of event. They get to hire desperate people who need a job so they can pay them less. It could be worth a try.”

“Norrie, that’s brilliant.” Lockwood exclaimed, his enthusiasm renewed. “Okay, you and Lucy will get in by waitressing at the event.” He got up and started pacing around the room. “You discreetly slip out and search the rooms in that order. I’ll need you to find a folder to put the documents in. Next, one of you go up on the second floor in that room.” He pointed at what seemed to be a bedroom drawn on the top left corner of the map. “You’ll let the folder fall from that window into the alley next to the mansion. When it’s done, give us a discreet sign. One of us will fake going out to take some fresh air and retrieve the documents.”

Relief filled the room as Lockwood finished explaining the last details of his plan. He was so sure of himself, so confident and convinced that they would succeed that it was hard to be pessimistic. He made it sound so easy.

“Lucy, Norrie, you should go and see if you can get hired today. George, now that we have a plan, I’m ordering you to find something decent to wear to the event.”

George sighed, clearly not happy about having to leave his research and take on an activity he had no interest in.

“Do you have something to wear, y/n?”

“I’ll probably figure something out.” She answered, rubbing her eyes. The long days of research, planning and cases had drained all energy from her, and like George she wasn’t too eager to spend time on her feet looking for something to wear at a party she wasn’t going to have fun at. Her bed sounded more appealing than anything else.

“Am I going to have to lead you both out with the point of my rapier in your back to get you moving?”

“Are you threatening us so we go shopping?”

“Well, locking you out of the house isn’t an option because of a certain someone,” Lockwood said as his stare lingered on her a few seconds more than she thought necessary, “so I have to resort to extreme measures.” He concluded with a wink.

They looked at him in disbelief. Since when did he care so much about what they were wearing?

“We need to be camera ready, this could be Lockwood and Co.’s first very public night we need to look our best!”

She was so exhausted she hadn’t realized they now had to endure fame-struck Lockwood craving the attention of the public. He was not going to let this go. She reluctantly stood up, mouthing “fine” at him with a thin smile. She dragged George out of the kitchen before he could protest and start an argument he would lose anyway. When public image was at stake, Lockwood always had the last word.

They got home three hours later, arms tired from carrying heavy bags. George’s suit weighed a ton, so did her shoes. She thought then that the platforms might have been overkill. Especially since she still didn’t know what she was going to wear. Finding something appropriate had taken longer than expected. Not for George, who bought the first cheapest suit he could find to get this over with. He complained louder each time she tried on a dress she didn’t buy. She was as frustrated as he was, really. The weather was getting colder and for some reason all she could find were backless or sleeveless dresses in which she was already too cold just by trying them on. Between George’s complaints and her feet growing tired y/n thought about giving up more than once. They started to walk back, discussing the plan for their very busy evening the following night when George interrupted himself.

“Look!”

“What? What is it?”

“In the window across the street. That could fit you for tomorrow night, right?”

She looked across to see a long-sleeved black jumpsuit on the mannequin in the shop in front of them. It was simple but very elegant, with a square neckline, a tight body giving the illusion of a corset, and wider pants long enough to touch the floor. The platforms would come in handy here. Since it was George’s idea, she told him he wasn’t allowed to complain if it didn’t fit. She went inside and came back out fifteen minutes later with another heavy bag to carry home.

---

She couldn’t help the tremor in her hand while she applied mascara on her eyelashes. As the hours went on, y/n could feel the knot in her stomach tighten. The idea of spending the night at such a sophisticated event made her nervous. She was incredibly intimidated, especially considering the type of crowd she would have to face. Being surrounded by rich and elegant people was not something she was used to, and tonight she would have to talk to them to make sure they saw her there. It added a stinging salt to her already oozing wound. She fixed her hair for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes, checking her reflection under every angle. She jumped and dropped her hairbrush when someone knocked on the door to the attic.

“y/n, are you alright?”

She recognized Lockwood’s voice and told him to come in. She bent down to retrieve her hairbrush and when she looked back up she saw him standing next to the mirror, wide-eyed and silent.

“Do I look this bad?”

“You… No! No, no on the contrary you look…” He blushed as he looked into her eyes.

“You look great.” He said shyly.

She didn’t think she had ever seen him so flustered. Had she not been so nervous, she might have read into his reaction. But her nerves were so unsettled that she simply smiled back at him before putting on her lipstick. She had picked a dark red to complete her elegant look for the night. She focused on the reflection of her lips. When she looked back up Lockwood was gone. She wondered if she had imagined his eyes following her every movement in the mirror. He was acting strange, but it was a very stressful night. She couldn’t even stop her hands from shaking. It was surprising coming from him, but they had never been in that situation before. Confused, she went to sit on her bed to put on her shoes. Another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

Lockwood was back, the same bewildered expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen you with lipstick.”

“Well, it’s not really my priority when going out to fight visitors all night.” She joked.

He kept staring insistently at her.

“What is it? Did I get some on my teeth?” She stood back up to look in the mirror again. Everything had to be perfect. She inspected every inch of her face, every tooth, every hair. Movement behind her made her look up to see Lockwood stepping closer in the reflection, reaching for something in his pocket.

“Here, I thought it would make you look even more elegant than you already are.”

He took out a red velvet pouch and revealed a pearl necklace.

“Lockwood… that’s… very thoughtful. Thank you.” She hoped the warm lights of her bedroom were enough to hide the red that had spread across her cheeks. He detached the clasp and went to stand behind her. She looked back into the mirror as he placed the necklace around her neck. She pushed her hair away, her hand softly brushing against his for a second. His gaze remained fixed on her reflection, the dark brown of his irises looking even warmer in the soft dim light. He looked back at her neck.

“They belonged to my mother.” He said as he fastened the clasp.

She looked at him in the mirror with surprise. He was smiling. A soft, delicate smile. He had rendered her speechless. For the briefest moment, the party didn’t matter, the past few months and everything that had led her there tonight weren’t as important. She was here, now, with him and everything was okay.

She blinked and turned around.

“Lockwood I can’t-”

“It’s nothing, really. Plus, you’ll fit right in tonight looking like this.” He winked, his smile back to its usual wolfish grin. “I’ll go get us a cab, George should be about ready too.”

Before she could protest, he was down the stairs, asking George if was ready, leaving her standing there, a hand resting on the necklace. She looked back at her reflection. The pearls did make her look rich and sophisticated, she admitted to herself. Lockwood had never talked to her about his family. She was incredibly flattered by this gift, and most importantly by the fact that he had opened up, even just a little. The softness of his eyes kept flashing back in her mind. She breathed in deeply, more assured than she was. He had quite an effect on her, she thought. The brush of his skin on hers, his soft breathing in her neck… If only he had stood closer, even just for an instant. She stopped her mind from going any further. The butterflies in her stomach were back and her heart was ready to jump out of her chest, but it’d have to wait. They had a party to attend and some documents to steal.

She came down the stairs to join Lockwood and George, ready to leave. George was adjusting his bowtie in the mirror in the living room. She was surprised to see him look quite dashing.

“George, promise me you’ll make an effort to socialize and be as visible as you can tonight.”

“Easy for you to say, it’ll be second nature for you to be at the center of attention!”

Lockwood laughed as he headed for the door and stopped in his tracks when she entered the room.

“Especially if I have the most gorgeous girl at the party on my arm.” He said after a pause.

She blushed furiously at the remark. He had never complimented her so much, or been so kind to her before. She tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but really she was close to falling on her knees. It was like he loved tormenting her.

They stayed staring at each other in silence, their smiles getting wider every second.

“I think I liked it better when you were fighting.” Said George in an exasperated tone.

Lockwood ignored him as he crossed the room to offer her his arm.

“Shall we?”

---

The ride over to the fundraiser was a silent one, though the three of them were agitated. George kept adjusting his bowtie and cleaning his glasses, y/n checked her lipstick in her pocket mirror every five minutes. Lockwood kept fidgeting, but it wasn’t really unusual for him. While they kept glancing anxiously at the road, he alternatively looked through each window like a toddler wondering if they were there yet. y/n did not share his excitement. She gripped the pearls around her neck and took a deep breath. Lockwood nudged his knee against hers to get her attention.

“It’s gonna go just fine.” He said in a low voice.

She smiled but it was rigid, almost fake. Panic was slowly strengthening its grip on her. What was she supposed to talk about with these people all night? She didn’t have Lockwood’s natural talent and ease when it came to socializing. She was terrified of saying something wrong and making a fool of herself. He rested a hand on her knee, bringing her out of her overwhelming thoughts.

“You’ll be great.”

She reached for his hand as she whispered a low ‘thank you’.

Despite his best efforts to reassure her, the crowd on the sidewalk and the animation coming from the mansion brought back her insecurities. Everyone looked so elegant and influential that she instantly felt out of place.

The look on George’s face reassured her a little bit. She wasn’t the only one desperate to go home. They got out of the cab and mingled in the crowd waiting to check their coats. y/n took a first look at the faces she would have to talk to during the night, trying to recognize anyone that would be easier to talk to. None of them looked like she could have seen them around at Fittes, or clients she could have worked with. She did notice the catering van parked in front of an alleyway next to the house, the waiters and waitresses all gathered next to it. She saw Lucy and Norrie with them, acting professional. Before she could try to get their attention and ask them if they were okay, Lockwood grabbed her arm and led her inside.

The elegance of the hall did not prepare her for the spectacular room in which the event took place. An imposing marble staircase was lit with candles, so many she couldn’t count them all, yet it was only half as much as the ones lighting up the crystal chandelier illuminating the room and taking up half the ceiling. If the Silverpoint Organization was a non-profit, they showed none of it during their receptions. The room was full of eloquent people, as she expected, most of them middle aged. Most men wore a lavender pin on their lapel, but some of them had a silver brooch in the shape of a harp instead. Women wore them too. She didn’t know what it stood for and felt foolish, dreading the interactions to come even more now. Every now and then she saw agents in the crowd. Fittes, Rotwell, Tendy’s, Bunchurch too. Unsure what to do, George and y/n looked expectantly at Lockwood.

“Why don’t you two mingle, I’ll go get us some drinks.” He said cheerfully before leaving them to fend for themselves.

They didn’t have time to protest, he was already lost in the crowd. George turned to her, suggesting that they should make a break for it while they still could. As much as she wished they could leave, she couldn’t bail on their plan now.

“I’ll make hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and those mini marshmallows you love so much!” He insisted with a pleading look.

“As much as I want to, we can’t.”

Before he could add anything that was likely to change her mind, the ringing of glasses rose through the air and soon the room fell silent. At the top of the grand staircase stood a man, stoic while he waited for the last conversations to die out.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” y/n was taken aback by the authority in his voice. She mustn’t have been the only one. The first few guests at the end of the staircase had stood straighter at the words.

“I am Theodor Mullet, chairman of Mullet and Sons and your host for the night,” he continued, “I hope you are all enjoying your evening so far. The music will continue in a moment but first I wanted to thank you all for attending and for your generous donations. As you know, the Silverpoint Organization has been helping our brave agents in the small way it can for over 20 years now.” He went on to describe the actions the Organization had taken over the years, reassuring the attendees that their money would be put to good use. Even though she knew for a fact that the donations in question would be spent on the black market, a part of her couldn’t help but believe he was telling the truth. The way he stood, tall and broad with his dark hair greying on the temples and his black glasses framing his gaze made him look straightforward. He didn’t have the appearance of a lying politician like she expected, instead he looked very matter-of-fact, what you would expect of a businessman at the head of one of the largest companies in the country. As she analyzed his every feature, she noticed that he too wore a silver brooch in the shape of a harp on the lapel of his vest. She wondered what kind of association he shared with the guests she had seen with the same accessory in the crowd.

“It was all the more important to me that all agencies attend this event, as both the Silverpoint Organization and Mullet&Sons want to further our relationship with them and support them all in keeping the nation safe. The courage of those young people is truly worth all our admiration, which is why I invite you all to raise a glass to the bravery of the agents present here with us tonight. May all agencies, big or small, defeat the Problem.” He raised his glass to the audience, and all guests followed suit. Many people were now staring at her and George with a mix of respect and pity.

“I could really use a drink… Where is Lockwood?” She said, turning towards George to avoid looking at the rest of the crowd.

“I don’t know… I think I’ll go try the buffet.”

y/n was too nervous to eat anything, especially with all this unwanted attention directed towards her. It didn’t seem to matter to George who was already gone before she could tell him that. She went her separate way to look for Lockwood in the crowd. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she found him charming some prestigious guests with dazzling stories about one of their cases. He was made for this after all and he had a knack for embellishing random anecdotes, turning them into thrilling quests. She tried to break through the crowd as respectfully as she could, overhearing small talk about what a fantastic man Theodor Mullet was or vivid debates about what the Organization’s next actions should be. She grew desperate the longer she looked. Without Lockwood, she didn’t think she could manage talking about those topics for an entire evening.

Relief flooded her when she spotted him next to the bar, glasses in hand. She got closer and stopped a few feet away, frozen. Her already dreadful evening turned even worse. She watched as El gently but confidently stroked his arm, throwing their head back in an exaggerated laughter that rose above the commotion. They did always have a flare for the dramatic. Lockwood smiled politely, but she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely enjoying talking to them. She dismissed the idea immediately. El was too proud, too flashy and overall, too much and Lockwood couldn’t enjoy the company of someone like this. Or could he? He looked around the room but didn’t notice the small sign she gave him, discreetly asking if he needed help. Before she could try something else, he was drawn back into the conversation, El clinging to his arm more every passing second. The knot in her stomach tightened.

She looked over at the buffet where George was having a better time than she was, enjoying the canapes that Lucy and Norrie or some of their colleagues for the night had brought out. She tried to spot the girls to make sure everything was fine but she couldn’t find them among the waiters. When she looked back over at Lockwood, El had placed a hand on his chest, now stroking his tie. She reached them in two strides, not minding the people previously in her way.

“There you are!” She pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Thank you for getting me a drink!” She said as she reached for the second glass he had in hand, interlocking her arm with his.

She looked up to see the confused look on his face. She ignored it and stared at El with feigned surprise.

“Oh… long time no see.”

El was staring back with barely hidden disgust.

“So you two are-”

“I heard you didn’t make it into Kipps’ team…” She didn’t let them finish. “That’s too bad.”

Their eyes darkened at that mention.

“I’ve moved on to better things.”

y/n huffed as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been working closely with Mrs. Dufour actually.” They said with a proud smirk. “It pays really well. And I get to meet a lot of influential people… Very influential. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”

She was barely surprised at that revelation.

“I see your loyalty hasn’t changed. At least it looks like your nose just about recovered, that’s a relief.” She forced a smile. Lockwood was staring at her with confusion, not saying a word.

She started to turn away, dragging Lockwood by the hand with her, when they forcefully grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry your late-night encounter with Rasler didn’t manage to drive you out of town. Maybe next time I’ll finish the job myself.”

Lockwood untangled his arm and came to stand between them. His features were sharper than usual, his jaw clenched in anger. Even when they had particularly bad fights, he never looked so stern.

“Oh you have your prince charming coming to your rescue now! How adorable.”

They both were about to protest when El continued.

“Please don’t make a scene, this a class A event after all.” They looked back at her. “Not that you should get used to that, y/n.”

El then turned away and headed for the bar.

“Are you okay?” Lockwood asked her, worried.

“I should be the one to ask you that. How long were you stuck talking to them?”

He instinctively offered her his arm as they walked away from the scene.

“They ambushed me right after the speech. You have some very questionable acquaintances.”

“Well, I did punch them in the face, it made the inconvenience more palatable.”

She was about to take a sip of her champagne when Lockwood stopped abruptly, making her almost spill her drink. He looked at his reflection in one of the mirrors adorning the room before turning towards her.

“y/n, have I been walking around with your lipstick on my cheek for the past ten minutes?”

She laughed, louder than she had meant, only now paying attention to the very defined dark red shape of her lips on his pale skin.

“That’s not funny I look ridiculous!”

“It’s a little bit funny.” She said gasping for air. “Admit it!”

He smiled, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

“It’ll come off easily I swear!” She said, dragging him out of the ballroom to look for a bathroom.

He kept his hand on his cheek, trying to hide the source of his shame. y/n had stopped laughing, the realization of what she had done only hitting her now. It was her turn to blush. She wasn’t thinking, she acted on instinct. But why did her instinct have to make her do this in particular?

They reached a corridor lit with golden sconces on the wall. The light was softer here, giving the space a more intimate atmosphere.

���Was the kiss really necessary?” Lockwood asked in a lower voice now that they were further from the crowd.

She forced her embarrassment down and used all the courage she could muster to look in his eyes. His smirk betrayed the seriousness of his tone. He was messing with her.

“Next time I’ll let you fend for yourself.” She answered.

“Do you have many more nemeses I should be on the lookout for?”

“No, I don’t. Unless Dufour decides to go for someone half her age.” She joked.

“I should be safe from this kind of situation then.”

She looked through every door, looking for any room that would have a sink or a vanity, anything to help save his case.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you.” She said absentmindedly, opening yet another door. “You’re young, attractive, you own your company… How come in a place as big as this one none of these doors are bathrooms?”

“You think I’m-”

“Ah! There we are, finally!” She led him into the powder room. She looked for a tissue or anything that would help him get the lipstick stain off. The room matched the elegance of the mansion, fancy soaps and cloth towels displayed next to the sink for the comfort of the guests. She ran a hand towel under the faucet, added some soap and handed it to Lockwood. He stared at her for a few seconds, before reaching for it. He rubbed the cloth on his face, staining it red. Somehow, he made the mark bigger, spreading it across his whole cheek. She laughed as he helplessly looked up at her in the mirror.

“This is all your fault, need I remind you.”

He tried to look upset, but soon he laughed with her at the scene, mocking his own reflection.

“I look like a clown.”

She took the cloth out of his hand and told him to crouch a little so she could take care of it. He leaned slightly against the sink, enough to meet her at eye level. She gently lifted and turned his chin to clean the rest of her lipstick off. He looked at her softly while she worked. She tried to ignore him or the way the soft bathroom light made his eyes sparkle. His eyelashes looked longer somehow. Maybe it was because she was seeing them from so close.

“There.” She said softly. “It’s gone.”

She looked back into his eyes. He was already staring. He smiled softly but didn’t say anything.

“You could thank me, you know?”

“For cleaning up your mess? Do you want a medal too?” He smiled wider. She laughed.

“You jerk!” She threw the towel at him, without doing much damage as it was thrown from so close. “I could also make it worse.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said defiantly.

She held his stare, becoming increasingly aware of their proximity. Heat creeped up her cheeks, but she didn’t want to move. Instead, she leaned into it, inching ever so slightly closer to him. She rested her hand on the edge of the sink, her fingers meeting the warmth of the back of his hand instead. He opened his palm and wrapped his fingers around hers. He subtly parted his lips, making her look at them then back into his eyes. He did the same. His other hand came to rest on her waist. His touch was delicate and soft, yet it was enough to send shivers down her back. It reached the small of her back, bringing her slowly closer to him, his eyes still focused on hers.

The door suddenly opened, making them both jump up in surprise.

“This isn’t the bathroom!” He man said loudly in the hallway before shutting the door.

She instinctively checked her hair in the mirror. Lockwood stood straighter, clearing his throat. She looked back at him with a thin smile, hoping the dim light hid her crimson cheeks.

“Thank you… for your help.”

“Oh you’re welcome!” She stammered. “You’re very welcome.”

They stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

“y/n… Do you…”

“I- uh we should go.”

She exited the room, flushed and a little disoriented. Lockwood called after her, asking her to wait. She wanted to turn back, desperately so, but a voice inside her head kept her from it. They were colleagues, she reminded herself. The voice of reason that had snuck into her head the morning after they fell asleep on the couch came screaming back, listing everything that was questionable about her behaviour. She never would have dared anything like this when she was at Fittes’. Lockwood’s recklessness was rubbing off on her and her conscience wasn’t having any of it. Her crush was inappropriate and now was certainly not the time to get lost in it. She headed back towards the ballroom to make sure enough guests witnessed her presence, but Lockwood caught up with her, reaching for her hand.

“y/n wait, please. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”

She looked back at him, her face still flushed from the moment they had shared.

“No, it’s me. I let my feelings get the best of me. We should really head back before someone notices we’re missing.” She said as she tried to regain composure.

“Your… feelings?” He asked, intrigued. He tried to act casual, but a grin had already formed at the corner of his mouth.

She didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed but here she was. She looked at him with wide eyes, realizing what had slipped out of her mouth and hurried back to the reception, hoping that the night wouldn’t get any worse. She heard Lockwood run after her and she instinctively hid among the guests in response. She grabbed a glass of champagne being served by one of the waiters and swallowed it down in full gulps. If anything else didn’t go as expected, at least she would find it funny. She spotted George still standing next to the buffet. He was joined by Lockwood a few minutes later, who still scanned the crowd, she guessed he was looking for her. She turned her back to him to avoid his eyes and knocked into someone. She apologized profusely, silently cursing this night and everything that had led her there in the first place.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

She looked up to see her old team leader standing there, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a tuxedo that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his grey uniform.

“Kipps! Hi!” She answered.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”

“Me neither if I’m honest. You’re here to represent Fittes I’m guessing?”

“Officially yes.” He said, but his voice had an edge.

“Officially?”

“I’m actually glad to see you again. I could use your insight on something.” He added in a growingly ominous tone.

“Kipps, what’s going on?” She asked impatiently.

“Yeah Kipps, what’s going on?” said a voice behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lockwood was looking down at him with the smug look he always had when he fed into that ridiculous rivalry of theirs.

“Not now Tony, I need y/n’s advice on something.”

“Oh really? And what would that be, Kipps? Put your team members in unfathomable danger again? How many children have you traumatized this time?”

“Lockwood, please. This is important.” She had no idea what Kipps wanted her advice on, but she wasn’t ready to face Lockwood yet. She wouldn’t be for a while. She looked up at him to silently tell him to go. He looked back at her and his smile vanished. She didn’t think this would hurt him, but however ridiculous his fight with Kipps was, his pride was taking a hit having to walk away. It didn’t help that Kipps added insult to injury with snobbish remarks, not caring how childish it made him look.

She started to walk towards an empty corner of the room, grabbing another glass on her way. Kipps followed closely.

“What is this all about Kipps?”

“I’m not just here to represent Fittes.” He paused significantly, as if he enjoyed building some kind of suspense around his intentions. “I’m trying to collect more information on Dufour.”

She stayed quiet for a minute as she tried to process what all it implied. On the one hand, they had a potential new ally in this mess. On the other hand, Kipps could make their whole plan fail and this would not end well. She took another sip to calm her nerves and frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“y/n, you never needed to tell me what happened for me to understand that she fired you because you got in the way.”

A new wave of panic washed over her. She hadn’t told him the whole story, she reminded herself. And she hadn’t seen him since that awful article had been published to humiliate her. There was no way he could have come to the same conclusions.

“I mean, you noticed a lot earlier than me how strange she was acting. After that article came out, I kept an eye on her when I could. There was more and more chatter among supervisors about her. Many clients had started complaining and it was reaching higher level executives. It was pretty obvious where all of this was heading.” He said in a sly tone. She finished her glass. Maybe he had.  

“She’s getting fired and tries to find a job with the Organization!” He concluded, congratulating his deduction skills. At least he wasn’t onto them. She was about to ask what kind of advice he expected her to give him when he started monologuing again. He visibly hadn’t told anyone about this and was getting too enthusiastic finally sharing his theories.

“I’ve already talked to a few guests about this, subtly mind you. I try to stay discreet on this whole thing. I managed to talk to one of the members of the Organization and left him with plenty to think about.” He said with a grin.

“What do you… I mean, what kind of advice are you looking for exactly?”

“Well let’s just say that the few anecdotes I shared tonight might jeopardize some of Dufour’s opportunities.” He winked at her. “I didn’t really need your advice, I just wanted to tell you that what she did is unforgivable, and she had no right to take you off my team. I’m just making sure she pays her dues.”

Apparently in Dufour’s case karma had a name and it was Quill F. Kipps. She smiled and the alcohol made her laugh much more than anticipated. She held onto him as she threw her head back in a fit of laughter, tears starting to prickle the corner of her eyes.

“That’s really sweet of you Kipps, thank you.” She said when her breathing evened out.

“I was proud to have you on my team y/n.” He said, raising his glass. She grabbed another one on a tray a waiter was passing around to clink a glass with his.

“You know,” She said, taking another sip, “I was always so intimidated by you. I was constantly trying to impress you.”

“Well, you did.”

Even though they hadn’t worked together in months, his recognition still made her feel queasy. Or maybe she was drunker than she realized. She looked away, searching for her reflection to make sure she wasn’t as red as she felt she was. Instead, she saw Lockwood watching the whole scene.

“Would you like to dance, maybe?” Kipps asked behind her.

She looked back at him, unable to refuse after what he had done for her. They headed towards the dancing crowd and when she looked back, Lockwood was gone. She tried to focus on her steps and not let him distract her movements. Her head was dangerously dizzy and if it was not for Kipps’ arm around her waist she would have fallen down twice already.

The song felt like it was going on forever, her feet were killing her and a headache started to hurt her temples. After another spin, she spotted Norrie’s red hair from afar, tray in hand and a wide smile on her face. She locked eyes with her and winked before heading back towards the buffet. Did Lucy manage to get the documents? She tried to look around to see if George or Lockwood had the folder. There were so many faces to look at. She lost her balance and tripped, saved by her dancing partner’s quick reflexes.

“y/n are you okay? You should drink some water.” He said as he led her towards the bar. He helped her sit down and brought her a glass, checking if she was alright. He never let go of her hand the whole time.

“I’m fine, I think I just had too much champagne.”

She barely had the time to take a sip of water when a familiar voice resonated behind her.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

She felt Lockwood place his arm behind her back, his touch just as warm as it had been a few hours earlier. His other hand reached her chin, making her look up at him with sleepy eyes.

“Did he make you drink too much?” He asked her in a softer tone, worry filling his voice.

“This is ridiculous!” Kipps answered.

“You shut up!”

“Come on Tony, throwing a tantrum because I danced with your girlfriend, seriously?”

“You-”

“Lockwood! I’m okay, I swear.” She intervened. “Kipps you’ve been great tonight. Thank you for everything, but don’t ruin it now.” She squeezed his hand before letting go. She turned back towards Lockwood. “Maybe we should go now? The first guests seem to be leaving too.”

He hadn’t stopped glaring towards Kipps. When he looked back down at her, he sighed before agreeing.

“Why don’t you go look for George? I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He seemed surprised at her words, like he couldn’t conceive letting her alone with Kipps any longer. He pressed his hand against her back before heading towards the hall. She stood back up, struggling with the height of her heals. Kipps helped her up, holding her still as she tried to find her balance.

“Thank you for everything, Kipps. I never thought you would help me get revenge on Dufour and I have to say that I greatly appreciate it.”

“I tried being the bigger person but it didn’t work out too well for me.”

She teased him once more about the childish fight he had with Lockwood, not convinced that he could ever be the bigger person. They laughed, and she felt truly happy at the comradery they shared. She offered to meet him some time for coffee. He agreed and told her she should probably get back to her boss to avoid any trouble at home. She answered that he was annoying as they hugged goodbye and he ruffled her hair in exchange. With a smile, she headed towards the entrance where Lockwood was already waiting with her coat in hand.

As soon as they got in the car, Lockwood pulled a folder out of his jacket. His smile was radiant as he went over the numbers. They were more than enough to put the Organization in trouble, and hopefully Dufour with it too. As enthusiastic as he was, they were too exhausted to be receptive. George swore he would never set foot in this kind of event ever again while y/n struggled to stay awake.

“I’d rather fight thirteen limbless than talk to another member of that stupid organization.” He exclaimed, shuffling in his seat, disturbing her as she rested her head against the window. There was no time for her to fall asleep, as the cab was already slowing down in front of the house.

George practically jumped out of the car, eager to go to bed to “put this horrible night behind him”. She didn’t know what happened that made him so irritable, but she was sure she had missed something while she was talking to Kipps. Lockwood stepped out next, waiting beside the door to help her out. It was out of necessity more than chivalry since her knees buckled when she stood up. Never leaving her side, he helped her up the stairs into the hall. She started walking or rather stumbling towards the stairs when Lockwood stopped her in her tracks.

“You should drink at least two full glasses of water before sleeping.”

She didn’t answer and simply pouted like a child.

“Fine, if you can walk up to the attic on your own, I won’t make you drink water.”

She gave him an exaggerated smile and immediately tripped over the first step. He put his arm around her and led her towards the kitchen.

She rested against the countertop while he poured her a glass from the tap. She drank it all and he filled it up again. She smiled lazily. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He stared back, making sure she drank it all. The stood there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, wordlessly getting lost in each other’s eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She said while tilting her head to the side.

It was a bad call. She couldn’t even move her head without being a fall risk.

He caught her just in time, as he always had this evening, and held her closer to start the long climb to the attic. She rested her face against his chest, nestling and taking comfort in his reassuring scent.

“Oh no…” She muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m putting make-up all over your shirt.” Her voice was sad but she made no move to try and stop it.

“It’s not the first time you put your make-up all over me tonight, darling. I think I’ll be alright.”

After the first flight of stairs, she slouched even more against him. Instead of taking the way up to the attic, he led her towards the opposite end of the hallway in his room. She didn’t register until he laid her down on his bed. The blanket she felt underneath her fingertips wasn’t the same texture as the one she had gotten used to.

“Lockwood I can’t sleep in your bed.” She mumbled, her face pressed into a pillow.

“Of course you can. You’re half asleep already.”

“Yeah but-”

“I’ll go sleep in your bed for tonight.”

She muttered an “okay” barely audible, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“I think that’s enough drinking and dancing for a while.” He said as he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

“Hardly, I didn’t even get to dance with you!” Her eyelids started to close. “You’re the only one I wanted to dance with.”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep instantly, not noticing when Lockwood exited the room quietly.

---

She woke up to the sound of hammers from the construction across the street. The sun burned her eyes and a painful headache pressed her forehead when she tightly closed her eyelids. She reached for the closest pillow and buried her head under it, hoping to draw out the hurtful sound and the blinding light. It didn’t do much, but it had the perk of surrounding her with a familiar comforting scent. She didn’t know how long she stayed like this. She remembered this wasn’t her room and she was surprised that no one had come in yet. She turned on her side and opened her eyes carefully. The first thing she saw was a glass of water resting on the bedside table. The second was Lockwood’s clothes from last night hanging on the back of his chair. She stared at them for a while, wondering if he had been comfortable enough to change in the same room she was passed out in. While she was sleeping in his bed, nonetheless. She tried the best she could to sit up. Drinking on an empty stomach had not done her any favor. There wasn’t much chance she would get anything done today. She drank the glass left for her and rose up with great difficulty.

Everything hurt. She made her way down the stairs, and by the time she reached the kitchen someone had made her a plate with warm toast. It was sitting on the table at the seat she usually took but there was no one around to greet her. She forced herself to eat even though her stomach wasn’t cooperative and drank as much water as she could, hoping it would help getting over her hangover. The house was quiet. It was a nice change from the noises that had woken her up but it was unsettling not hearing any sign of life. Usually when she thought she was alone she would still hear Lockwood training in the basement or George mutter something under his breath while researching a case. It was rare that the both of them left at the same time. She wondered where they could have gone as she made her way back up the stairs. She passed the library and the turning of pages made her turn around. Lockwood was sitting in his armchair, flipping through his magazine the way he usually did in the late hours of the night after a case. He was impeccable as always and she felt acutely self-conscious standing there at the beginning of the afternoon with messy hair and probably runny make-up all over her face. If he looked up from his magazine she didn’t pay him any attention and ran upstairs to try and look more presentable, no matter how awful she felt.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked when she came back down, not looking up from what he was reading. She took the sit next to him.

“As good as I can.” She answered, massaging her temples.

He pushed forward a glass of water on the table between them.

“Where’s George?” She asked between two sips.

“I sent him to deliver the documents to DEPRAC. I thought he was better suited to leave it anonymously with a semblance of discretion. If Barnes ever saw me there, we could never get away with it.”

“Smart.” She had avoided his eyes the entire time. The entire night was blurry, but the alcohol had not erased the specific memories she was trying to ignore. They stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he finished his magazine, eventually closing it and putting it back on the table between them. The ghost-jar was back into the fireplace, covered in ashes with burn marks here and there. She wondered when George had found the time to keep experimenting on it with how busy they had been these past few weeks. Instead of making its usual horrible faces it simply stared at her. It looked over at Lockwood who didn’t seem to pay him no mind, then back at her with that same insistent stare. It made her even more uncomfortable than the heavy silence filling the room. When she got up to get away from it, it smiled. A crude and devilish smile. What a horrid wretched thing. She was too distracted to realize that Lockwood had followed her into the hall.

“y/n, about last night…”

Before she could turn around, the entire chain of events flashed before her eyes. What part did he want to talk about: her drunken state, the night she spent in his bed, the lipstick mark she left on his cheek or the way she almost kissed him? She couldn’t pick which would be more embarrassing. She didn’t want to talk about any of it either. She didn’t even want to think about it, though this part was harder than it looked. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of his hand around her waist in that first-floor bathroom. After behaving so recklessly, a conversation like this was bound to happen. They might as well get it over with.

“I just wanted to say…”

When she finally mustered the courage to look him in the eye, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” She said, hurrying to open the door.

It was Kipps, coming to see if she was feeling better.

“I’m doing alright! Thanks for checking in.”

“I brought you some chocolate chip cookies from a bakery near my flat. Thought they could help.”

“That’s sweet of you Kipps but we’re a doughnut family here.” Lockwood said before snatching the bag out of his hands, coming behind her to wave Kipps away. Kipps ignored him and turned his attention back to her.

“If you’re feeling okay maybe we could grab that cup of coffee you talked about last night?”

“Thanks but I’m still feeling a bit sick, I’d love to go out when I’m fully recovered though!”

“Sure, give me a call when you’re free. Take care, alright?”

“I will, thank you.”

She waved back at him as he left and slowly closed the door behind her. Lockwood was standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

“You asked Kipps to get coffee after what happened last night?”

“Yes, he’s been a real friend to me. He’s helping me with Dufour without me asking.”

“What do you mean he’s helping you? Have you been cooperating with him behind our backs?”

“Of course not! I just found out he’s been giving her bad press.”

“So, it wasn’t a date then?”

“Are you jealous of Quill Kipps?” She asked with a laugh.

“How dare you say something like that under my roof!”

They both smiled at the situation, easing the tension that was there a few minutes earlier.

“But seriously, y/n. I wanted to apologize about last night. I never meant to make anything weird or-”

“Can we just say that we both acted dumb?”

He took a few seconds to consider her offer.

“Well, you started it.” He grinned.

She looked at him defiantly. She would not take the fall for this, even though her unrequited crush was definitely to blame.

“Didn’t you call me darling last night?”

He blushed at the mention, only saved by the front door opening and letting George in, followed closely by Inspector Barnes. The intrusion of the DEPRAC representative took them aback. They stared mutely back and forth between George and the inspector, waiting for an explanation. The man stared back at them, a familiar folder in hand. Without saying a word, Lockwood led him to the living room. y/n closed the door before joining them. Barnes stood in the middle of the room, glaring between them, holding up the folder and pointing it accusingly at Lockwood.

“I don’t want to know how you could have gotten your hand on these documents.”

“I’ve never seen that folder before in my life.” Lockwood replied, feigning innocence.

“Shut it! I don’t care how you did it, I know it was you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have caught Karim here sneaking out of Scotland Yard after an ‘anonymous contribution’ was made for the case you seem to be tied to.” He glared in her direction to punctuate his words. After holding her stare in an anger-fueled silence, he looks down in resignation. “As much as I hate to admit it, this evidence makes our case stronger against the Silverpoint Organization.”

She couldn’t help a thin smile to form on her lips. She looked back at Lockwood, relieved. He was already looking back at her with a soft smile. He winked before looking back at Barnes with a proud smile.

“Don’t even dare congratulate yourselves for this. Next time you step out of line, one mistake and I revoke your license and shut down this agency for good.”

They all looked down, trying to hide their joy at hearing that their plan had worked. After a few more minutes of silent scolding, the inspector aimed for the door.

“An audit of the organization’s finances will start in a few days and we’ll probably put an end to your surveillance.” He turned back. “That does not mean that you should get back to breaking any law-”

“Does that mean that Dufour will be arrested soon?” y/n couldn’t help asking, interrupting Barnes who had an exasperated look on his face. He sighed.

“Unfortunately, like any person involved in relic dealings the only evidence that can guarantee an arrest are catching the perpetrators in the act. I’m afraid Mrs. Dufour will remain free for now.” He didn’t seem as frustrated as she was. Probably because this kind of injustice was commonplace in his line of work. Still, her highest hopes came crashing down. The rollercoaster from the joy of their success to this disillusion made her sick.

“Oh.” She simply said.

“I’ll do my best to get her complaint against you dropped. Don’t get the idea of putting yourself in any more danger to get more evidence yourself. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly clear, inspector.”

The three of them led him back to the front door. When she closed it behind him, George and Lockwood both placed an arm around her.

“We’ll figure something out.” Lockwood said. “I promise.”

“It’s alright.” She said in a flat tone. “I’ll go lie down for a while, I think I’m still sick from the champagne.”

As she went up the stairs, her mind was already reeling. If Barnes couldn’t get the evidence he needed to put Dufour away for good, she’d find a way to do it herself.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Immortal Love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader x Sam Winchester (no wincest)

Word Count: ~1k

Warnings: none

Request by anon: Hi can you do a imagine with both the Winchester polyamory, where the reader is a immortal hunter (a demigoddess of Kali, Hecate or etc) that is a big deal in the supernatural everyone know about her and the monster are scare about her and meet the Winchester in a bar? Fluff with funny

Summary: You're Kali, the Goddess of Death and Destruction, and you're an immortal hunter. Monsters fear you. When you walk into a room, heads turn, and two very handsome ones catch your attention.

Square Filled: love triangle (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

x

Your style of clothing has evolved with the rest of the world. There was a time when you wore frilly dresses with underwires to make them puffy and tight corsets that made your breasts push up uncomfortably. It was always dresses of different styles until about the mid-20th century when women were allowed to wear pants. That opened a new avenue for women all across the board. It wasn’t normal for women to make those styles your own but you did whatever possible to stand out.

If you’re going to walk into a room, you’re going to turn heads.

The other reason why you’d turn heads is because you’re a Goddess who has made herself very well known in the supernatural world. You’re Kali, the Goddess of Death and Destruction. Not to mention immortal and a hunter. You’ve been hunting monsters for centuries and love every bit of it. You love being immortal because you get to see humanity thrive and evolve into the best versions of themselves.

Your sleek high heels click against the floor when you enter the bar, your skinny jeans are tight against your body, your shirt flows around you with ease, and your black leather jacket completes the look. The bell on the door rings and heads turn to see who is entering. On the outside, it’s a normal bar for the public. On the inside is much more sinister. It’s home to demons, angels, and other monsters. Only the best hunters dare to enter this place.

As soon as everyone sees you, three demons smoke out of their meatsuits and run straight back down to Hell. Being there is better than being in a room with you, and you smile at the thought. The people you pass by look away in fear that you’ll kill them on the spot when in reality, you couldn’t care less about them. You’re not a monster. You don’t go around killing people left and right, but it doesn’t hurt for people to know what you’re capable of.

You walk to the bar and watch as the bartender refuses to meet your eye. He kind of cowers behind the bar counter at the thought of serving you, and you give him a sweet smile.

“Give me your strongest drink. Make it a double.”

He mumbles something you can’t recognize as he makes your drink. As you’re waiting, you hear someone whisper your name from across the bar. The chatter was loud before you entered and has quieted since your arrival. You can hear a pin drop from across the bar. You turn your head slightly to get a glimpse of the gossipers and find the King of Hell with two men you’ve never seen before. They’re not demons or any kind of monster you’ve seen so they must be humans… Hunters.

“Who the hell is she?” Dean asks and knicks a striped ball into one of the pockets.

“Her name is Kali, the Goddess of Death and Destruction. She’s immortal so nothing can kill her. She’s dangerous and lethal and she shows no mercy. She’s done a number on my demons, and if you’re smart, you’d stay the hell away from her.”

“She doesn’t look all that scary,” Dean scoffs and hits the cure ball again, but it misses the pocket.

“Are you an idiot? The bad ones never look scary and she is the baddest there is. She’s an immortal hunter.”

“A hunter, huh? Time for introductions.”

Dean leaves Sam hanging even though the younger brother just took his turn. Crowley whispers a quiet prayer and touches his forehead to his chest to both of his shoulders. Dean gives him a weird look as he walks with Sam to the bar counter. Dean takes a seat to your right and you look straight ahead.

“That seat’s taken,” you mumble and sip your drink. Dean gets up and takes the seat to your left. “Can I help you?”

“My buddy over there says you’re a hunter.”

“Goddess hunter,” you correct and swirl your chair around to look at your visitors. God damn these are two very attractive men. Who the hell are their parents? They must have really good genes if they look like Gods themselves. “If you want to be technical. Kali but call me Y/N.”

“You’re immortal?”

Your fangs slide from your teeth and you grin to show them off.

“Yes.”

“See, Sammy? She’s not so scary,” Dean shakes his head. “I’m Dean and this is my brother, Sam.”

“If you knew what was good for you,” you chuckle, “you’d know I’m as scary as they come. You should be afraid of me.”

“Sweetheart,” Dean smirks and leans in closer to you, “I’m not afraid of anyone. They’re afraid of me.”

You smirk and down the rest of your drink, so you lean back and cross one leg over the other.

“Sam and Dean? As in Winchesters?” Both of them nod. “I’ve heard of you two. Nearly destroyed the world.”

“True, but we didn't,” Sam points out.

“You’re cute,” you grin and let your eyes drink him in, “like a puppy dog. I like puppies.” Sam’s cheeks darken deliciously and you move onto his brother who hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you. “You’re like a teddy bear, and I love to cuddle with teddy bears at night.”

“Listen, do you want to hunt together? Sam and I are on our way over to one right now if you’re not busy.”

“You sure you can handle me?” you chuckle.

“Sweetheart, are you sure you can handle me?” Dean flirts.

You laugh like you haven’t done in a while.

“Challenge accepted. However, on one condition. I’ll hunt with you if your friend doesn’t go.” The demon the brothers were with hasn’t stopped staring at you since you entered. “He’s kind of creeping me out.”

“Crowley’s scared of you.”

“You wanna see something funny?” Sam and Dean shrug as an answer. You get up and disappear from sight only to reappear behind Crowley. He’s looking frantically around for you when you tap on his shoulder. When he turns, your eyes are bright red, your fangs are out, and you give him a malicious grin. “Hi, Crowley.”

He screams like a little girl and disappears from the bar altogether. You, Sam, and Dean laugh as if you’re friends and that was the funniest shit ever.

“I like her. Let’s keep her,” Dean declares.

“Dude, she’s not a dog.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Come on, we got a hunt to get to.”

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[rebeliz7]

MASTERLIST

Library Blog - Updated: 15-03

Disclaimer: All the fics posted on this blog have been written by me. If you feel like you read them years ago, you might have since I’m re-posting them one more time.  

I do not give permission to translate or repost my work anywhere else. Please refrain yourself from doing so. 

Stories will be tagged according to the content, so please check the warnings before you dive in. If a fic doesn’t contain a warning, then that means it’s just a fun little story that you will probably enjoy :)

I write exclusively about fem!reader, mostly top fem!reader. 

And last but not least, anon asks are open but if I get any hate again, I will shut it down and it’ll never be open again. I will not put up with that one more time. My inbox is also open if you have any questions related to my fics.

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HER - You help Natasha join the high-mile club.

Liho Romanoff - Nat fluff: adopting Liho and not expecting the cutest reaction ever from the emotionless assassin

Liho Romanoff II - Nat might be a little bit jealous of all the attention Liho gets from you.

Little piece of heaven - Pregnant reader takes matters into her own hands?

We have to stop meeting like this - Can you do Natasha x non avenger/reader where reader is very possessive and protective over her wife “Listen pal. There are two things I need from you. Number 1 is get away from my wife and number 2 is stay the hell away from my wife.” Natasha finds her wife’s treats very amusing, considering she’s the black widow and can more than well take care of herself.

Monster - Underworld!Reader.

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AUGUST MASTERLIST

The Key - Demigoddess reader navigates living among humans, and being married to one.

More than anything - Reader where Killgrave gets to the reader and forces her to fight the avengers and try to kill them and Wanda is the only one who can stop her.

Threat at first sight - You meet Wanda at the bar you work at, Nat and Sam try to intimidate you.

Naive - You inflirtate the Avengers team with a highly dangerous mission, given to you by Magneto himself.

Charmer - A request for Wanda, where people are constantly asking her out , but R says no to all of them, until on day she’s so fed up with it and spills the fact that she’s a lesbian and in love with Wanda.

PROMPTS FROM THIS LIST

The One - “I’m sorry I fell in love with you. I just… You weren’t supposed to be the one.”

Circles - “…Why didn’t you tell me this before I got into a relationship with [Character C’s name]?”