#i gave charlie piercings. it just felt right

[noelle-tea]

the sillies!!! i havent drawn these guys in a while, sorryyy ^-^;

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 14/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

The next part might be a pov from the hotel with Charlie and co.

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

It's not going well.

Everyone is close to their breaking points. Lucifer curses under his breath as another overlord and a Goetia pass out.

They've been performing the ritual for 4 hours straight and every time they manage to possibly succeed, a stronger wave comes out- the worsening poison of the miasma sure isn't making things easier.

His infection throbs.

Paimon: My Lord! Another Goetia has fallen!

Asmodeus: We're losing numbers, Luci! We should retreat for now!

Lucifer: No! We can't afford to lose a Ring.

Shit! Even with Goodie's powers, it's not enough. Lucifer begins to think that maybe he should've tried with Heaven- No. He shakes his head. Heaven would rather sacrifice humanity if it would mean destroying all of Hell.

Lucifer: Goodie!

Goodie: I cannot give more of something I do not have, angel. I warned you that my support alone will most likely not stop this.

Lucifer: We should at least be denting it!

At that moment, the sea of flowers let out piercing howls bringing everyone to a stop, hands flying up to their ears to block the noise. Lucifer himself felt his own ears bleed from the sound.

Dark roots began to move upward, carrying the screaming flowers to the skies. It went up until it reached the giant pentagram in the sky, essentially forming a giant tree. Some sort of whole then opened itself up at the bottom- like it's giving way. Like it's-

Lucifer: A door.

Someone beside Lucifer yelled for him.

Leviathan: Luci! Your marks!

When he gave the Sin of Envy a confused look, Alastor summoned a mirror for him to use. The radio demon's smile never leaves his face but Lucifer can see it strained.

Alastor: Sire, it seems that I have lost in being the first to devour you in your entirety.

Lucifer ignores the TV guy's indignant 'what the fuck?!!' in the background, instead he focuses on his reflection. It looks like Alastor was talking literally and not making a weird innuendo.

The infection he got from touching Roo's remnants has now reached his face. His right eye has turned black from the infection, and it's slowly making its way to the left.

The King doesn't feel it until he sees it. He vaguely hears Belphegor's cries, noises of disbelief, and the pained groans of the demons around him.

There's still a way.

Lucifer: Goodie. What do I need to do?

The Good of Humanity produces a piece of paper and blows it in Lucifer's direction. It melted to his skin as soon as it made contact.

Goodie: This might be the only way to stop my sister. That is an ancient seal from before the Nothing- strong enough to render God and beings like Roo weak.

Satan: Huh?! Then why didn't you just let us use that from the start??

Goodie: Because there is a condition.

Lucifer: And what's that?

He asks but he has a feeling he already knows.

Goodie: It must be performed from the inside. It needs to be as close as possible to the one you are sealing. The hold will be stronger with proximity. And with you being the highest power here...

Belphegor: Then that means-!

Lucifer: I need to be the one to go in there.

Immediately after he said it out loud, multiple protests erupted. The Sins are trying to talk him out of it while Paimon and a few Goetia are yelling at Goodie.

Mammon: Mate, this is fucked-

Satan: I'll go to Heaven myself if I have-

Belphegor: There must be another way-

Asmodeus: We'll save our strength. Lust can handle-

Beelzebub: You're crazy! You're gonna die-

Leviathan: I am not letting you go on this suicide mission, Luci!-

All the while, he and Goodie never broke eye contact. Lucifer stares, looking for something he doesn't really know in her expression. He raises his hands and everyone quiets.

Lucifer: Are you sure this will stop her?

Goodie: You are the key, angel. It must be you.

Lucifer finally looks at the camera in the sky. It had been there the whole time, probably by the TV demon. He thinks of his little girl who is probably watching with worry at the safety of the hotel. He can only hope that his next course of action won't hurt her in the long run.

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

that's suspicious.

that's weird.

[hazbinswappedau]

Chapter One

✩░▒▓▆▅▃▂▁𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ▁▂▃▅▆▓▒░✩

*+:｡.｡Hazbin Hotel Swap Au｡.｡:+*

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"Charlie! I know.. I havent spent time with you- but please.. Y-your all I have left!" Lucifer stammered, reaching for Charlie as she stepped through the portal. Before it closed up, Charlie looked over her shoulder to laugh at her father- no. Lucifer. "Your pathetic, honestly. I should be ashamed to call you my father. Sinners cant be redeemed, Lucifer."

╭─〔❨✧✧❩〕─╮

Would you like to continue?

"Charlie! I know.. I havent spent time with you- but please.. Y-your all I have left!" Lucifer stammered, reaching for Charlie as she stepped through the portal. Before it closed up, Charlie looked over her shoulder to laugh at her father- no. Lucifer. "Your pathetic, honestly. I should be ashamed to call you my father. Sinners cant be redeemed, Lucifer." It pierced his heart like a knife. She spat out the words condescendingly, before continuing with, "Mom was right about you." Walking away, Lucifer watched as his own daughter left him like he was nothing. His own that he raised, the one he loved so dearly, the one he spent, and gave his life for.. Just to leave him. Lucifer felt his heart shatter into a million pieces, as his hands grabbed at the floor, the one where Charlie once stood. How he wished he never gave her that opportunity to meet with heaven, how he wished they never gave her the offer to stay in heaven. Lucifer broke out in sobs, clutching his heart as he fell to the ground. It hurt. He had nothing left. Noth-

"Luci? Where the fuck- what the hell are you doing now?" A cracked voice interrupt Lucifers trip down memory lane. Adam, former angel, now fallen angel muttered as he walked into Lucifers room. Yesterday was the extermination, and Lucifer gets reminded of Charlie everytime, the nightmare never ending and repeating like a mantra.. "Uhm, nothing. Im fine. Hows the hotel going?" Lucifer asked, remembering how he found Adam all bloody and scarred after an extermination. Lucifer had no clue what led Adam to fall.. And Adam would never say, but he's glad at least one person approves of his dreams that were crushed one too many times.

Lucifer never knew why Adam chose to support his dreams, but ever since Adam fell from heaven he was acting... Strange? Adam was still injured with his wings cut off and a broken arm. He wore a red suit which was all he could find at the moment to wear, in contrast to Charlie who mostly wore the color blue most of the time despite being in hell, she made it work.

"Oh. The hotel. Well... I guess they still need a little getting used to seeing more of me." Adam answered Lucifer while glancing around his room. The very room Charlie had spoke her final and harsh good-bye to Lucifer.

"It could be worse." Lucifer chuckled.

"You know Vox? Yeah the tall creepy radio demon guy?"

"What of him?"

"He visited the hotel a few hours ago."

"WHAT." Lucifer said in surprise, his voice raising.

"Yeah...." Adam nervously chuckled.

Adam fidgeted around a little before speaking once again.

"He... He... Asked to help me manage the hotel... And I y'know accepted his offer."

Lucifer was speechless. THE Radio demon was interested in the hotel? It seemed so unbelievable that he almost didn't believe Adam.

Lucifer took in a deep breath, his eyes clenched shut before he suddenly yelled out, "Why would you trust the radio demon?! Let alone a random sinner known for causing havoc!" Pacing around the room, his hands in his hair as he tugged on it in frustration. Adam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and gulped. "I mean, I never knew. Sorry dickbuddy."

Lucifer suddenly paused in his frantic panicking and stared at him with wide eyes. "Did you just call me- Nevermind.." He sighed, flopping down onto his bed face first and let out an exasperated groan. How could Adam be so naive to accept the RADIO DEMONS OFFER? When Adam least expects it, the sinner would probably turn against him! Lucifer starts breathing in a pattern, trying to calm himself as he straightens his clothes. Adam walked over to Lucifer, patting his back with a smile. "Cheer up dickbuddy! Come on, isnt this shit all about redemption? Give that fucker a chance!" Adam exclaimed, before taking an infuriatingly long sip of his drink that he was holding. Sighing, Lucifer sat up and rubbed his eyes as he gently shoved Adam aside. "Lets just get to business. This place looks shitty enough.."

As Lucifer walked into the Lobby, he was surprised to see Vox, the radio demon pop up right infront of him.

"Oh golly, is that the king of hell I see?" Vox tapped Lucifers head with his microphone, cackling very loudly. "And if it isnt it his majesty himself! Trying to fix his own mistakes, what a hilarious sight to see!"

Lucifer only rolled his eyes, glaring at the freakishly tall demon in front of him. "Your criticism isn't needed right now, demon. What do you want?"

"And your suspecting I want something? What do you take me for? Oh no dear, I'm just a business man helping out a poor angel in need.. Or should I say, fallens?" Vox started walking around the hotel, observing its fine details before suddenly fixing some small trinkets here and there, putting them to his taste. Lucifer, watching Vox do this, was obviously not pleased.

He stormed over to vox and pushed him. "Dont touch my rubber ducks, asshole." Lucifer hissed, putting the trinkets back to their original spot. Adam was watching the whole ordeal, feeling uncomfortable in this situation. After a bit of contemplating, Adam decided to step in and break them apart. "Anyway, sooo Vox.. Robo dick, yeah? Your tryna help me and Dickbuddy or somethin' right? So, whats your plan?" Adam said, laughing and elbowing Vox as he said 'Robo dick'. Vox narrowed his eyes at Adam and moved away, but still kept his professional composure.

"...Please do refrain from talking about my genitals when we are discussing business. Nonetheless, yes! I do have a plan!" As Vox said this, he snapped his fingers and the tension in the air seems to grow more mysterious.. Suddenly, an extremely tall moth appeared, holding a sex toy. Vox rolled his eyes, smacking the object out of the moths hand as he spoke. "Meet Valentino! He'll be taking over the convenience store!"

"Convenience store? We dont even ha-" Vox shushed Lucifer by putting a finger to his lips, and with a flick of his wrist, a tiny shop appeared inside of the hotel. It wasnt anything big, just sold some candy.. Snacks.. Drinks.. Condoms- Which is completely irrelevant. Lucifer was surely a wee bit amazed but didnt admit it, as he didnt want to feed Vox's already big enough ego. Of course Lucifer knew about demons like him! Greedy and selfish, only caring about themselves and their rise to fame.. He just wondered how Adam thinks this piece of trash is able to be redeemed. Sure, he loves the idea of redeeming sinners but him?! The radio demon?!

"Holy shit, robo dic- I mean Vox! That was fucking sick!" Adam praised, clapping his hands. Adam had a gleam of excitement, and he thought maybe, just maybe after accepting Vox's offer.. Everything will be working out! Which.. may be the case, or the exact opposite, and everything may start going down hill from here. But things couldn't get possibly worse... Right?

"I know, I am quite impressive.. Dare I say, even more impressive than his majesty?"

"Quit taunting me." Lucifer sighed and sat down on a nearby chair, crossing his legs. Hes already sick of the robotic demon.

Vox chuckled at the irritated Lucifer. To Vox, everything was all fun and games and he rarely took anything seriously. After scanning and examining the room once again, he noticed the dusty books that were sitting on the shelf. he swiped his finger on the dust of the shelf and with a disgusted face and wiped it on his shirt. "Ew, well looks like this hotel is in need of... A little cleaning session." He sighed.

With another snap of his fingers a girl with pigtails that almost reached the floor appeared. "Vox? What is it now?" The lady asked in an annoyed tone of voice, obviously and very clearly not wanting to be here. "Now now, don't speak to me like that." Vox replied giving the girl a warning glare. The girl groaned, looking around the room with distaste. Eyeing the entire place up and down, the girl walked around the lobby, beginning to judge every detail she doesnt approve of. "What is this? The 1900's? This hotel needs an honest big glow up." The lady trotted forward with strides and confidence as she started with her work, she went from rearranging things to ripping down the wallpaper, which left Adam and Lucifer absolutely flabbergasted.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING???" Adam yelled, leaning down to be face to face with Vox. Vox may be tall, but Adams taller. "Meet Velvette! She can be the hotel cleaner and renovator!" Vox said, almost ignoring the protests that Adam was yelling out to him. Before any further arguements could be made, the door slammed open to reveal the hotels very first guest, Molly.

You've reached the end of this chapter. Thanks for reading

*+:｡.｡★ written by mods Xyra and Shello

[amethystandemma]

Radiant Glasspetal and the First Quidditch Match

“I earned this spot,” Radiant Glasspetal muttered to herself. “I deserve to be here.”

The young second year sat outside the locker room, her broom in hand and her red Quidditch robe sprawled out around her body. 

“I deserve to be here,” she repeated. 

No, you don’t, Radiant thought.

“I worked har... hard.”

You really didn’t.

“I’m a good Chaser.”

Your older brothers are good Chasers. You’re not.

Radiant couldn’t hold back the negative thoughts anymore. It was as if a dam had been broken, and nothing was holding back the rushing waves of doubt and fear.

You don’t deserve to play Quidditch for Gryffindor.

You’re weak.

The only reason you are on the team is because they pity you.

You’re small.

Zach and Artie are ashamed of you.

You’re pathetic.

You’ll never make it Puddlmere United.

Because of you, the team will lose.

You should just leave.

“Radiant?”

It’s not like no one will notice you’re gone.

“Radiant.”

You should just quit.

“Glasspetal, come on.”

Quit.

Quit.

QUIT.

“Hey!”

Radiant sharply gasped, blinking her eyes profusely. Apparently she had been crying at some point, based on the wet feeling on her face. She didn’t even notice her visitor at first.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor team Keeper and Captain, was inches away from her face. His brown eyes pierced into her’s with such intensity, it seemed as if he was staring into her very soul.

“Scared Radiant?” The fourth year asked.

Radiant wiped her nose. “A little.”

“That’s alright. Felt the same way before my first game.” He helped her stand up from the bench, rubbing the dirt off her uniform. “Though, your brothers told me not to tell you about it.” Oliver delivered that last part with a wink.

He just pities you.

He doesn’t actually believe in you.

Why should he? You’re just a second year.

Radiant bit her lip to keep from crying again. Oliver, seeming to notice this, reached into his Quidditch robe.

“Where did I put that- oh, here it is.” He handed her a white handkerchief. Upon further inspection, Radiant saw a small golden snitch on the corner along with his initials: O. S. W. 

He waited for her to wipe her face before speaking again.

“You’re probably thinking a lot of real negative thoughts right now.”

“How did you-”

“I just know. I thought the same things when I first joined. Hell, I’m still thinking of them.” He ran a gloved hand through his brown hair. “Charlie was the best Captain Gryffindor has seen in years. How am I supposed to replace him?“

“Just know that we’re your team, and we are there for you.” Oliver gave her a crooked smirk. “You’re here for a reason Radiant. You can do this. You hear me?”

Radiant nodded and handed him his handkerchief back. Oliver shook his head, closing her hand around it.

“Keep it. For good luck. Not that you’ll need it,” he loudly whispered.

Oliver stood still, watching her as she put the handkerchief into her pocket. He motioned to the door with his head a second later.

“Ready?” He asked.

“Ready.” Radiant confirmed.

Oliver’s smirk became a grin and clapped her shoulder. Hard. “Good. Let’s get inside.”

She nodded again, stepping into the locker room where the rest of the team waited. All boys.

Great.

Radiant sat between her two older brothers, Zachary and Arthur, her grip on her broom never loosening. She was vaguely aware of the bad thoughts trying to get back into her head, but she did her best to shake them off. 

Fred and George Weasley sat with the team's seeker on benches opposite from the Glasspetals. She couldn’t recall a single time when there wasn’t a mischievous glint in the twins' eyes, just like there was one now.

Oliver wasted no time as soon as he came into the locker room. He cleared his throat for silence.

“Okay men.”

Radiant wanted to point out that she wasn’t a man, but she closed her mouth before any sound came out.

“This is it. The big one. The one we’ve all been waiting for.” 

Wood made eye contact with each team member, his gaze intense, as it always was when he talked about Quidditch. 

“This is the best team Gryffindor’s had in years. We’re going to win. I know it.”

His gaze lingered on Radiant’s for a second, the hint of a smile toying on his serious face. She smiled back.

“It’s time. Good luck, all of you.” Part 1 -> Part 2

[logbook99]

Home.

put under a readmore for sake of ease!

Fritz and the other kids greet Michael, the big guy in green and the little girl in pink; Fritz retracts his hook from Mike's neck and grins. 

"Did you enjoy hearing us chat? Is there anything you wanna add? You know, most people walk up and try to make conversation." Fritz says, looking his plastic hook over as the blonde girl steps forward.

"Hi, Mike - um... How are you feeling? it's been a bit since we saw you." Michael looks the girl over, with light skin, curled blonde hair in a ponytail, with pale blue eyes. He couldn't seem to name her until the tall guy rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, Susie, it's all good. He's here now, right?" he asked her. Susie nodded. Oh. Susie, Chica. Fritz, Susie... and he stares at the big guy, dark-skinned, flat top hairstyle, chubby stature, and mellow aura. "Yeah, It's just been two days, you know? Oh, Mike... do you think Gabriel and I can call your brother later when we get home?" Susie asks with a look of concern. Michael knows now. Fritz, Susie, and Gabriel. Foxy, Chica, and Freddy.

"Oh - uh. Of course, you can. Do you have the home phone?" Mike has yet to determine if the phone number he used to know would work here, but it's worth trying. Gabriel gave a simple thumbs up to confirm they had the number, oh good, he didn't have to give one that likely didn't exist here. Mike can feel a piercing stare being delivered, and he'll find Fritz is giving him the staredown.

"Are you okay, Fritz?" He finds it odd that the ginger boy gave him such heavy eyes. Did he do something? What are the relationships between them here? Fritz is silent momentarily, pockets his free hand, and lifts his hook. "Evan and Lizzy's birthday is a few weeks after Charlie's and Sammy's. I'm going to get him the best gift ever!" He suddenly declares, to which Michae'ls brow raises.

"Cool? Neat? I mean, I'm sure they'll appreciate any gift you give them." "Let's have a competition! whoever gets Evan the best gift is the better older brother!" Oh. Huh? That was unexpected, but Fritz did mention Evan... So that's all? A sibling friendship sounds nice. Michael shakes his head. "No need. I'm sure he wouldn't want us to fight over him." Mike tries, but Fritz swings the hook in the air with a 'Yar.' "No! It must be a competition! Maybe we'll even see who the number one Foxy fan is, too!" Oh, here he goes again.

Michael will sigh and offer his hand. Why not? It's a friendly competition anyway.

The children extend a few words; ultimately, they tell Mike about how Evan overate with Jerry, their friend Jeremy. He got sick and had to go home, Lizzie insisted.

Go home.

Michael wants to see them again. He wants to go home, too.

He gives a goodbye and hurries back toward Parts & Service when he sees his father exiting and talking with Henry; the two were always close, weren't they? William is smiling ear to ear; he hardly saw him genuinely smile when he was young, and seeing this was abysmal. This is a weird dream so far. Michael approaches the pair and gently speaks to his father; while he seems so friendly here, he's feeling himself shake slightly.

"Dad? Can we go home? I want to go home..." asked softly as William's silver eyes met Michael's and stared before he reached out - Michael flinched but didn't move and felt the man's large hand tousling his hair this way and that. "'Course we can! I just finished chatting some big stuff with Hen here. Want to pick up some Mc. Donald's on the way home, champ?"

Michael's about to respond when he feels arms wrap around him, and he's being clung onto. His head turning, he sees it's Charlie. "Going home? I'll see you later then, Mikey!" He feels William's hand remove itself from his hair, and he removes Charlie's arms from himself. "God, careful Charlie! What if we fell?" he questions her, which gets a big smile from the girl. "Then we'd be falling, easy!" Well, he can't argue with that.

Charlie stares at him before she tilts her head; it seems she has a question she wants to ask, and Michael wants to hear it - but Henry rests a hand on her shoulder. "Now, now, let's not keep Michael here any longer. You can see him tomorrow." He can tell she wants to argue for a moment but relents and steps back toward her father. "Bye, Mikey." "Bye, Charlie. See you."

The teen follows his father out of the diner, seeing Sammy peering from one of the arcade games, throwing a glare his way as he exits. What is that about?

William guides him to his Purple Imperial; getting into the driver's side, Michael takes the passenger seat. The car comes to life as William pulls out of the parking lot, and Michael's eye catches sight of the alleyway just as they pass by; he keeps his eyes on it as he remembers Charlie facedown, blood on the stone brick path beside the dumpsters. William's hand reaches and flicks the radio on, tuning it about until 'Heart of Glass' by Blondie begins to fill the car, the music swimming through the air and seeping into Michael's eardrums.

William's foot taps as he drives, mouthing along to the lyrics and looking his son's way momentarily but mainly focused on the road. "Don't you just love this song? It's always an energy booster despite the meaning!" "The meaning? What is the meaning?" "Oh, Heart of Glass's meaning? I thought you'd know by the lyrics, but it's okay," He'll come to a stop light. "The song, Mike, is about one's relationship going from 'divine' to 'sour.' It's just that! Listen to the lyrics and how it's sung - but it's also just a disco song." William laughs, to which Michael feels himself smile. It's weird. This isn't his dad, but so far? He liked him.

"Does mom like that song?" he isn't sure why he asked that; it just slipped out. He has no idea yet what happened to his mother - is she here? Alive? From red to green, the car takes off again and heads to Mc. Donald's, as William had intended, took to the drive-thru. "Your mother? Oh, she likes the song! She's the one who introduced it to me. She loves dancing." Oh, did she? Considering who he suspected to be in... her... Slowing to the menu, he hears William's window slide down; many prices and photos of food greet Michael. Wow, things were more affordable compared to the current day.

"One Big Mac meal with a large Coke, two Happy Meal burger meals, and one Quarter Pounder with cheese meal." Michael is amazed to see the prices being literal cents and dollars. He should cherish this while he can. As they retrieve the food and head home, he stares up at the big home, a two-story high, decently sized driveway with another car, which must be his mother's. They'll park, and William shuts the vehicle down to guide Michael inside with the food. From the driveway to the front door is a beautiful path of brick and flowers; his mom must have put those there again. It seemed like her, and it was stunning. When the front door opens, he's met with a slight ginger girl, hair tied half up and down with her big hair ribbon in.

"OH, woah! Mc. Donald's!" she cheers, excited. Michael shuts the door behind himself and carries the few bags that his father had him take to place them at the dining table. It's so weird.

Elizabeth. She's standing beside him and hip-bumping him aside to grab her Happy Meal box to open it, checking for her food; her nose scrunches as a pout comes to her lips. "Daddy! They put onions all over it!" She'll complain and show William the burger with the silvered onions inside; he tells her she should try it, and she may like it.  Michael can't stop watching.

[thirteens-earring]

(Transcription under cut)

[ I met Hilary at a kink class. I don't even remember what the topic was; it never seemed to matter. The takeaway from a class on flogging, play piercing, caning, whatever, was if you were a top, you should go home and practice whatever you learned. But I didn't have anyone to practice with, and I was way too broke to shell out eighty bucks for kink equipment I didn't even know if I wanted and didn't have anyone to use on anyway.

I noticed her because of the patches on the back of her denim vest: a rainbow-colored cat rubbing lovingly against an ankle, a hand-lettered ACAB, and an ace flag, purple, white, black, and gray. I wanted to talk to her as soon as I saw the flag; I'd come out as ace a few months earlier, but when I mentioned it to an older dyke at a play party, she'd laughed in my face. You know this is a kink party, right? When I replayed the conversation in my head, I gave all kinds of clever replies, but in the moment I'd just shrunk into my chair. I wondered if I was wrong to think I could be kinky and ace at the same time.

My friend Charlie, who'd stopped going to kink stuff, thought maybe the older dyke had assumed I was a bottom and wanted to give me a hard time as a way of flirting. I said disparaging someone's identity was a shitty way of flirting, and Charlie said yeah, that was why they didn't go to kink stuff anymore. I kept going back though. It was the only way I could think of to meet people who might, against all odds, want to do kinky things with me.

The group who ran the classes always gathered people afterwards at the Skylite Diner down the street. As I moved with the loose crowd of queer kinksters headed toward the diner, a voice behind me said, "I like your boots."

I looked down. The boots were calf-high lace-ups, vinyl and shimmery. I'd bought them over a year ago, but this was only the third time I'd worn them. They seemed like something the person I wanted to be would wear, but I wasn't sure the person I was could pull them off. A couple weeks earlier, I'd let Charlie chop off most of my hair and dye the remainder purple, and I felt the same way looking in the mirror that I did looking down now, as if I was wearing a costume that everyone could see didn't fit.

"Thanks," I said anyway, and turned around to see Hilary. She was a head taller than me, with broad shoulders and a curvy waist, wearing lipstick in a bright glittery violet that made me smile. Her skin was pale and dotted with freckles, and her honey-brown hair hung over her neck and shoulders in delicate wisps. "I like your vest."

"I'm Hilary, by the way," she said, though I'd heard her introduce herself in class. "She/her."

"Rae. She/her too."

We sat together at the diner. I usually didn't know what to talk about on diner trips. People sometimes asked what you did for work, and I didn't like to say. I was a library assistant in a children's department, and I was scared of it getting back to parents that Rae who sometimes did storytimes for kids also liked to hurt people for fun. When I did tell people about my job, someone inevitably said something about sexy librarians, and I'd only recently found the words for how alien the idea of being sexy felt to me.

Hilary and I talked about webcomics, and her cat, who could open cabinet doors, and I asked if she wanted to split a basket of curly fries, which she did. It wasn't until our orders came that I got up the nerve to ask about her flag patch. I told her about the woman who'd laughed at me when I said I was ace. Hilary took a deep breath and gripped the edge of the table, her fingers curling like claws. "That's some bullshit," she said, loud enough that a few people across the table turned their heads.

I laughed. "I thought so too, but then I thought maybe there was a reason I hadn't met other ace people here."

"Well, it's not because we don't exist." Hilary picked up a curly fry and blew on it; I didn't dare touch them yet. "The scene's got some warped priorities sometimes."

Hilary had been away from the scene for a few years. She'd been in a relationship with someone who didn't like public parties, then she'd been depressed after a breakup, and now she figured it was worth dipping a toe back in. I told her how I'd been coming to scene stuff for a couple years, how I wanted to top, but how people looked at a small, awkward femme-ish newcomer and thought bottom. How you weren't supposed to top if you weren't experienced, but how you needed experience to get experience, like the old entry-level job problem. How I'd ended up making out with people at parties even though I didn't give a shit about making out, because sexual stuff felt like the only thing I was allowed to do without practice.

"There's a lot you can do without practice," Hilary said.

"Like what?"

"Rough body stuff. Hitting, pinching, scratching, hair-pulling."

"I guess." I'd done a spanking scene with someone at a party once. "Don't people think that stuff's boring though?"

Hilary frowned "Do you think it's boring?"

I thought about the person I'd spanked, how their voice had broken with each hit. How I'd stroked their back the whole time and felt warm and connected, how the few times I'd dared hit harder, their body had seemed to crumple, thrillingly, onto our padded bench. I'd played the scene back to myself for days afterwards. "No," I said, feeling faintly shy. "I don't."

"I'm a masochist," Hilary said, biting slightly at her glittery lower lip. "And a service sub. I like pain, and I like doing things for tops."

I had to stop my head from tilting quizzically. I knew Hilary was kinky, or else why would she be here, but somehow some part of me still thought she couldn't be, let alone have desires that matched mine. Maybe it was an ace thing, but until I saw it, I found it hard to imagine people as erotic actors of any kind.

"I don't know if you're looking to play tonight," she continued. "But if you are, and you're looking to try some hitting or pinching or something..." She trailed off. My heart was racing.

"Yeah," I said. "That sounds really nice."

The playspace was a large, black-walled room in the basement of a theater. Hilary and I sat on a bench by the entrance, and I looked around at the now-familiar sights: a padded cross, a clean-up station, a bench with stirrups. A pair of regulars strolled by, the domme in leather pants, the sub wheeling their toy collection in a suitcase. Someone out of sight shrieked; somewhere closer came the metallic clink of restraints being fastened. Across the room, I spotted the dyke who'd laughed at my aceness caning a bottom who wore a tutu, and I wondered what she'd think if she saw me topping too. Maybe it didn't matter.

We talked more about our scene. Hilary said she liked boots, and being lower to the ground than her partner, and having her hair pulled. I said I liked touch, like how I'd rubbed my partner's back in that spanking scene, that I'd never hit anyone's upper body or pinched anyone, but that I'd like to try. We had all the conversations I knew from classes you were supposed to: safewords, limits, how she did and didn't want to be touched, how she usually felt glowy after a scene and wanted to cuddle, how the few times I'd played, I'd wanted that too. It still felt surreal, like I was playing a part that wasn't written for me, but at least I knew my lines.

And then Hilary pointed to a spot in the back corner of the playspace where it looked like there was room for the two of us and asked if I wanted to go there. I nodded and rose from the bench, and she followed.

There was no equipment in the spot we'd chosen, just a bit of bare wall and a stretch of floor. Hillary sat on the floor and looked up at me, her eyes darting shyly away when I looked back. I felt a little power flow from her and into me, like we were sharing a secret. She unbuttoned her vest and lifted her T-shirt, and I watched her bra appear underneath, gray cotton, sporty and cute. It felt good to look at another ace person undressing and not feel that pressure to feel...something. Her boobs were a nice shape but knowing I wasn't supposed to want to touch them, wasn't failing by eyeing instead her exposed skin and downcast gaze, made something in my chest untighten.

She folded her vest and shirt crisply and carefully, then turned around on her knees to lay them by the wall. When she turned back toward me, she looked up again and placed her arms behind her back, presenting herself to me. That gaze up again, that smile, and I felt the space between us start to close. I ran my tongue over my canine teeth. A new friend was offering herself to me and I was accepting and something in my consciousness was shifting, righting itself.

"Are you ready?" I heard myself ask. I stopped briefly to wonder if I was ready, but I didn't have to look far within myself to feel, incredibly, that I was. Hilary lifted her chin and nodded up to me. Her arms were still behind her and I wanted to move closer, was moving in closer, stepped in close enough that the toe of my boot pressed against the knee of her jeans. I reached for the nape of her neck and dug my fingers into her hair.

Hilary's hair was soft and fine and delicate. I took the wisps between my fingers, holding tightly enough to control her movements but not hard enough, yet, to hurt. I pulled her in against the front of my leg, gazing down as she gazed up. She was taller than me, but not here, not on her knees, not looking up with wide eyes. The room shimmered like a camera coming into focus. We were doing this. I was doing this.

Around us, other partygoers walked by, a few pausing to glance at our scene. I froze for a moment, imagining myself through outside eyes, but when I looked back down at Hilary on her knees, her face pressed against me, my insecurity receded. I kept my left hand in her hair and ran the other down her cheek, over her bare shoulders, smooth, warm skin that was suddenly, improbably, mine to touch, and breathed with her there until my chest swelled again with the steely certainty of my own power.

I wanted to hurt her. Wanted to know how her body looked taking pain, what sounds she'd make, how deep under her skin I could get. I reached for her face again, took her chin in my hand. It felt like taking a liberty, intimate and condescending. "Stand up," I said, and her breath caught when I tugged at her soft hair. "I'm going to hit you now."

I moved her toward the wall. Lifted her by her hair and she stumbled upwards, guided her face-forward, stopping her with a hand on her collarbone. She made a little sigh as as she jolted toward the wall, pleased and vulnerable, and I wanted to hear more. The nape of her neck was warm under my hand and I tugged at the hair in my fingers to hear her voice catch.

Kink was a miracle. Stepping into the space of someone who wanted you there, hurting someone who wanted you to hurt them, breathing together in the delicious haze of intimacy and intensity. This was why I kept coming to these parties: the outside chance of feeling exactly as sharp and joyful and hungry and right as I felt right now.

Was Hilary feeling it too? I turned her head to the side to see her face. "How are you doing?," I asked, and her voice was breathy in answer.

"Good. You're good at this."

Was I good at this? Wasn't I too new, too ace, too hesitant, too inexperienced? But the soaring feeling in my chest told me everything I needed to know. I breathed in, pulled harder at Hilary's hair, and sighed at the sound of her gasp, and the worry was gone. I was going to hit her. I loosed my grip on her hair and readied myself, my hands palm-open against the broad flats of her shoulders. Then I stepped back and pushed forward, a gentle slap to start. Hilary made a small sigh and stumbled forward against the wall. My palms tingled with the impact. I felt myself grin.

I hit her again, and again, letting more of my weight fall each time into her bare, available skin. Her sighs became grunts; her expression, when I leaned in close enough for eye contact, was dreamy and vague. I wanted to be closer in, more in her space, more under her skin. There were red marks on her shoulders. The right one looked like an imprint of my hand, fingers outlined in flushed skin. Her body, marked up with mine. I hit her again, harder. Her body sagged against the wall and I drank her unsteadiness in.

I was aware of my own body but focused on hers, the hug of the boot shafts on my calves, shoulders loose and back and relaxed, each hit fluid if not graceful. Something that felt like joy in my throat, cheeks alive with grinning. I wanted—I think we both wanted—our scene to last forever.

After more hits, Hilary murmured something, and I paused and leaned in. "Do you want to try pinching me?" she said, when I asked her to repeat herself.

I had almost forgotten we'd meant for me to pinch her too, and I felt a welling of gratitude to Hilary for reminding me, for wanting this, for wanting me. "Yes," I said. "Do you?" She nodded so vigorously I could feel the strands of hair in my hand tighten and go slack.

Nobody taught pinching in kink classes. It was too straightforward, too low-risk, too unskilled. If all you had to do to top was press a fold of skin between your fingers, then anyone could top. I could top. I tugged at Hilary's hair, gently this time, and told her to turn and face me. She followed my lead.

I ran my hand along her biceps, fleshy and warm and mine to touch. I gathered skin between my thumb and index finger, closed my fingers together until I felt resistance, until Hilary breathed in sharp through her nose, her jaw set, eyes wide and locked softly on mine. She whimpered a little and I let go, rubbing the spot I'd been holding. "You okay?" It was still hard to remember that she had chosen this, that she really did like pain, that some people loved to bottom, that the things I wanted to do were things a lot of people wanted done.

Hilary's face was flushed, her voice quiet and breathy. "I'm good. I like this a lot."

That feeling of gratitude welled in my chest again. "Me too."

I liked the intimacy of it. I liked controlling the intensity, moment to moment. I liked our eye contact, the way I could watch her watching me hurt her, a dizzying feedback loop. I pulled out another fold on her biceps and pinched again, longer this time, watching her fight the sensation and then surrender. I held her there, letting her gasp and whimper, feeling myself grow bigger and more alive. I let go and tried the other arm. Hilary swayed against the wall and I held out my free hand to steady her. I let go and pinched again. And again. Eyes and whimpers and breath and my cheeks split open grinning. My thumb was tired. I didn't care.

Eventually, Hilary reached her free arm back and tapped my hip. "I don't think I can stand up anymore."

I thought about having her kneel. About making her put her arms behind her back and pinching her again while she gazed up at me, while I held her body close. But the pause made me more aware of the ache in my fingers and a dryness in my throat. As much as I wanted to keep going, maybe it was time.

"Do you want to wrap up?"

Hilary nodded, tugging gently at the hair in my hand. "I don't want to," she whispered, "But yeah."

I helped her to the floor. She draped herself over my boots and wrapped her arms against me. My heart filled up, and my face hurt from grinning. Hilary smiled too, her body slumping against mine. After a while, I sat down next to her, and we held each other there for a still, seemingly infinite moment.

Hilary spoke first. "Definitely not boring," she murmured into my shoulder.

"What?" I said, then laughed. I'd forgotten I'd even worried about topping with my bare hands not being enough. "Oh. No, not boring at all."

"You made this face when you were hurting me," she said, and I tried to brace myself to be embarrassed but found I could only muster calm curiosity. "Like you were, I don't know, an orchestra conductor."

I gave a small laugh. "Yeah?"

"Like you were in the center of the stage, and you ran the show, and you were channeling all your passion and focus and art into...I don't know. Into something that felt really good."

I tried to imagine what she'd seen, me with my purple hair and my shimmery boots, holding myself like some kind of kink maestro. I couldn't picture it, but somehow, I believed her.

We returned to our bench and chatted a while longer. When scenes started wrapping up around us, and Hilary gave a yawn and I yawned too, I said I thought it was time to go.

"There's another party next month," Hilary said, as we took the rickety elevator back to street level. "I was thinking you could come with me, if you want."

I thought about walking into another party with a friend and play partner. A friend who wore an ace flag with pride, a friend who saw me in my newness and believed I was enough. I thought about Hilary at my feet again, the heady feeling of power flowing between us. It wouldn't matter what anyone else thought; I'd know I belonged there. We both belonged there.

"I'd love that," I said, as the elevator doors creaked open. We walked through them together, both still glowing. ]

megan stories, conducter, from best lesbian erotica of the year vol. 6

[jimblejamblewritings]

sweaters & kisses | one-shot.

Request: maybe one of the weasleys x reader where molly makes everybody ugly christmas sweaters??

Pairing: Bill Weasley x fem!reader

You hadn’t seen the Weasleys in forever. Since your seventh year which was about eight years ago. Approaching the Burrow, you realized how much you missed your friends. You, Bill, and Charlie were inseparable during your school years. When Bill left, it was just you and Charlie for two years.

That meant it was two years of Charlie pressing you to confirm his suspicions that you were into his brother. Both winter breaks, he tried his hardest to set you up with Bill despite you telling him not to meddle and just let you have a crush. Charlie wanted you to be a part of the family for real— the two of you always recalled your joke pact that you made in first year stating that if you were both thirty-two and single you would just marry each other.

Then graduation happened. Part of the reason that the three of you had been inseparable in your school years was the same reason that you all grew apart— a love of adventure. Bill became a cursebreaker in Egypt, Charlie worked with dragons in Romania. You were trapezing the entire world in search of dark artifacts.

The three of you also had a strong sense of morals along with the sense of adventure. When Harry Potter claimed that Voldemort was back, you came running. Without much thought, you sent a letter to Dumbledore asking to join the Order.

While they didn’t necessarily like the idea of Harry and other students learning to fight, they acknowledged that Voldemort was after the boy. They felt better that there was guidance close to their age. The old Order of the Phoenix stepped aside for the younger generation.

Between Tonks and Bill, Harry’s little Dumbledore’s Army became prodigies at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Charlie had an intense network of dragon dealers that were able to easily pass information and spy for them. He also had a way to track animals that proved very useful in finding and killing Lord Voldemort’s snake. You were able to figure out the horcruxes.

There was still a whole ordeal about getting them to destroy them. But, aside from Nagini and the diary, you had all of the horcruxes in Dumbledore’s office. It was just a matter of figuring out how to destroy them. That involved more travel which you would get to when it wasn’t freezing. There were prisons out in the world that held dark wizards that did what Voldemort had done which meant that someone had to know how to destroy them. But that wasn’t until the New Year. Right now, you were enjoying your holiday. Mr. Weasley invited you to the Burrow for Christmas.

You knocked on the door, expecting Mr. or Mrs. Weasley  to answer. The door opened to reveal a tall redhead who you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“You got one of your ears pierced?”

Bill laughed. “I haven’t seen you properly in years and that’s the first thing you say to me?”

“What do you want me to cry in joy? Close the door and we’ll do it again.”

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

Bill ushered you in and closed the door. Immediately, Charlie showed up. It was like no time had passed at all. The rest of the house, which included Order members as well as Harry and Hermione, noticed how the three of you were joined at the hip.

“Have they always been like that?” Lupin asked.

Percy nodded. “They were the Golden Trio at Hogwarts before Harry ever showed up. Gave Mum a near heart attack when Bill almost got expelled.”

“Expelled?”

Bill threw an arm over your shoulder. “This one had the brilliant idea of helping one of our fellow students break some cursed vaults.”

You poked Bill’s cheek. “Um, without my brilliant idea you wouldn’t be a cursebreaker now.”

“Yes, I would be.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

Bill looked at you. The two of you didn’t break eye contact. It didn’t go unnoticed by the others when Bill’s playful stare-off seemed to morph into something else. His face softened a bit. Bill cleared his throat and looked away. You smiled smugly.

“Ha. I win.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Bill suddenly walked off, Charlie following him outside. You went back into the swing of old Weasley Christmas traditions. The younger Weasleys remembered all the times that you used to come over. Ginny always liked it because, even though she was a baby, you always treated her like a little lady. She always used to push Charlie or Bill marrying you so you would be at the Burrow forever. Back then, it was a funny joke. Now, she was old enough to see something was up with her brother.

Mrs. Weasley began to hand out presents. You all knew they were sweaters. Every Christmas Eve, the present was a sweater. You started getting them in you and Charlie’s third year because you were the only friend that the boys kept bringing home. Molly handed you your little box.

“Oh, with everyone here, (Y/N) and Charlie are going to be in your room, Bill.”

Bill’s eyes went wide for a moment. “Shouldn’t (Y/N) be with Ginny?”

“Hermione and Tonks are already there. So is Angelina, there isn’t room.”

“You act as if we haven’t shared a bed before,” you told Bill.

Fred stood up. “But you said Ang couldn’t stay in our room every time we asked, growing up.”

“(Y/N) was never dating one of them. They’re also adults that I can trust.”

Fred shut up, not having a good counter argument. You laughed as you tore through the wrapping paper, wondering what color you would get. You had almost every color. Although, all the ones from your earliest years were now too small. Bill turned when he heard you in hysterics.

“Molly, I love it!”

“I wanted to try something different this time.”

“It’s great.”

You held up the ugly Christmas sweater. Everyone opened their own presents to see ugly Christmas sweaters. You all changed into them so Molly could take a picture. One by one, everyone retreated to their rooms. You, Bill, and Charlie decided to wear the sweaters as pajamas. Charlie took some firewhiskey from the kitchen before the three of you retreated to Bill’s room.

He had the only room on the same floor as the living room— Charlie’s was upstairs on the same level as their parents and before all the additions started getting added to the house. The three of you passed around the bottle and caught each other up on your lives. There was an unspoken agreement to never spend this much time apart from each other ever again. Charlie stretched.

“Alright, I’m heading to bed.”

“Where are you going?” You asked as he started to leave.

“The couch.”

“Charlie, the bed’s big enough for the three of us.”

“I know but William isn’t going to do anything unless I do it for him. You two are just like when we were younger.”

He walked out without another word. You turned to face Bill who was now fiddling with his sweater.

“Okay, what was that about?”

“It’s just Charlie,” Bill said.

You two started getting ready for bed. Bill opened his mouth plenty of times to say something but then closed it again. You probably had a relationship. He told Charlie that much when his younger brother followed him outside. You probably didn’t even like him. Why would he expect you to still have a crush on him after all these years? Bill thought he was screwed that he finally had a crush on you and it wasn’t during the same time that you had one on him. He held his breath for a moment as you cuddled against him to get comfortable. Like he used to, Bill rubbed your back so you would fall asleep easily. Only now, it wasn’t platonic— not on his end. Bill looked down to see you sleeping peacefully. He sighed.

“Crushing on your best friend is such a cliche, isn’t it? You’ve gotten even prettier since I last saw you, wanted to kiss you when you showed up to the Order meaning. I should’ve told Harry I couldn’t teach Dumbledore’s Army that day and just caught up with you. Too bad this isn’t seventh year. Charlie told me that you used to like me… guess I missed my chance, didn’t I?”

“Your sweater is itchy,” you mumbled.

Bill froze and you lifted your head. He looked like a deer in headlights.

“Did you hear me?”

“I was going to give you your moment but one of the pom poms was poking my ear.”

“Merlin, I can’t beli—”

“You can still kiss me.”

“I’m so sorr— what?”

“I was going to let you sleep and then just, I don’t know, kiss you in the morning.”

“Are you messing with me, right now?”

You shook your head. “I’ve had a few boyfriends since Hogwarts but there was always something missing. I only ever feel it around you and Charlie.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just include my brother.”

You shoved his shoulder. “Oh, you know what I mean.”

Bill sat up, cupping the sides of your face. “Do I?”

“Just kiss me, William.”

“Gladly.”

Bill pressed his lips against yours.  

[lemonsuponlemons]

"Change my mind" - Billy Russo x Reader

[TW: smut, vulgar language, mentions of alcohol, dirty talk, p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, unsafe intercourse (contraception prevents from contracting various STDs, please do use it)]

Summary: Billy visits the bar you sing at and he can't help himself when he sees you. He's in for a surprise when you don't give in that easily, making him even more interested. Who knows, maybe Billy Russo has finally met his match.

Word count: ~1.6k

Guys this is my very first full smut AND I'm asexual. I don't know what I'm doing. A wild ride indeed.

It was a comfortably slow night at the bar, drinks being dished out but at a calm pace. Singing sappy songs felt even easier on nights like these, when Earth was spinning a little slower. Even though it was probably your most favorite thing to do, a break sounded nice and so when you finished the song, you left the tiny stage and walked over to the bar.

Little did you know, Billy was watching you like a hawk out on a hunt. He couldn't even taste the beer he was drinking, completely focused on you: a short top that appetizingly revealed your skin and the flared pants that made your legs look just right to spread them and throw over his shoulders. Your voice was piercing through the air, reaching his ears only to be quickly spun into fantasies of erotic gasps, moans and squeals. In his vanity, Billy was sure that he could surprise you with the sounds he can get out of you. He was quite set on making that happen.

"Slow night tonight," you said to Charles, who was working the bar.

"As much as I like tips, I'm not gonna complain," he chuckled as he poured you a margarita.

You took a sip of the drink and let out a sigh of relief. Chares really knew what he was doing.

"You never disappoint, Charlie boy."

In response, he just smiled and did a careless salute before turning to a client and making their drink.

"Great performance." You heard a voice behind you. You turned around only to be met with the view of a handsome, confident man. "Billy Russo."

"(Y/N), always a pleasure to meet a fan." Your joke earned a small chuckle from him.

"You do private events?" he asked with a smirk.

"You men are all the same," you let out a bitter laugh. "At least buy me dinner first and maybe I'll stay for breakfast."

To Billy, the game was on. And he always plays to win.

Billy was pushing you in the direction of his bedroom, which proved a little difficult with your lips unwilling to stop kissing and hands pulling at clothes, frantically taking them off and throwing them in whichever direction. You have bumped into a wall a few times and Billy couldn't let himself pass the opportunity to grind against you.

You felt the soft covers against your calves and soon after Billy grabbed you by your thighs and tossed you on top of the bed. Pushing yourself up on your forearms, you gave him a beautiful view of your body in lacey lingerie. Billy's eyes were devouring each inch of your skin with an insatiable appetite. He quickly took off his shirt, probably ripping out the last button or two.

When Billy was reaching for his belt, you were a little faster than him and started unbuckling it for him. His breathing picked up as he felt completely entranced by the feeling of your hands against his groin.

With a decisive motion, you pulled down his pants and briefs. First, you looked at his boner and then up at his face. Making sure that Billy was staring at you, you gave his cock a test lick.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as his hand reached to grab your hair.

Feeling encouraged by his unambiguous reaction, you slid his penis into your mouth as deep as you could, letting your tongue crawl against the hot skin. Your head moving up and down his shaft at a slow pace, earning delightful groans from Billy.

Billy's grip on your hair forced you to move a little faster, take him a little deeper. His mouth was slightly open and every so often his face would twitch. Somehow, he managed to look even prettier when he was desperate.

Unexpectedly, he forcefully yanked your head away from his dick and for a moment he took in the sight of saliva mixed with precum running down your chin. When your gaze met his, something inside Billy broke, like a dam keeping his desire under control. Any force that was holding him back until now was gone.

His hands gripped your waist and pushed you farther on the bed. Billy's teeth first nibbled on your neck and when you moaned right into his ear, they immediately sank deeper, biting down on your skin like he was still debating which kind of "devouring" he wanted more. Gradually, his bites and kisses moved down your body and Billy made sure to leave your breasts red and swollen. The bruises will show up before he's done with you.

He bit your thigh before taking the material of your panties into his teeth and pulling them slightly down. Soon his hand pulled the damp underwear off of your and threw it across the room. Billy knew you won't be needing them for a good while.

Billy's rough hands ran up your legs spreading them apart. You let out a gasp feeling two of his fingers being pushed inside your vagina. They provided a slight stretch, one that makes appetite only grow. Billy moved his fingers at a steady, quick pace, curling them upwards only slightly, unwilling to give you satisfaction right away. When he pulled them out, your frustration only grew and you were willing to do just about anything to have his dick inside you.

Forcefully, Billy flipped you over and kept your hips in the air. You pushed your face further into the mattress when you felt his cock filling you up. He was big but in the most mouth-watering way.

"You're so damn tight," he said in a strained voice.

"Stop running your mouth and fuck me already."

"As you wish, princess."

Billy slid out of you only to snap his hips forward, hitting your walls with the strength of a desperate man gone feral. The both painful and pleasurable sensation made you let out a cry that only made Billy continue his rough pace. A plethora of deliciously erotic sounds was leaving was mouth as Billy slammed his pelvis against your ass. You clawed at the bedsheets, unable to cope with the overwhelming bliss he was providing.

His hand reached for your hair yet again and pulled them to lift your upper body. The other arm he put around your waist to keep you in place. You could feel his toned chest and abdomen against your back. The new angle let Billy hit that perfect spot with each thrust and you just couldn't keep your voice down.

"I'll happily ruin your tiny cunt," he gritted through his teeth and then bit your shoulder.

Whether it was his sultry words or merciless pace, you felt your abdomen steadily tighten and pussy begin to twitch.

"Fuck, Billy, I'm gonna-" you breathed out barely coherent words.

The arm he had around your waist moved down, rough fingers quickly finding your clit and rubbing it in circles.

"Come on, princess, lemme hear you," he whispered.

You felt your toes curl and legs shake, your mind going completely blank. A wave of unspeakable pleasure washed over you, coaxing an involuntary scream out of your throat as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Billy's movements became more frantic and sloppy. It wasn't long after your own orgasm that you heard him grunt into your ear and felt his cum fill you up, only to then dribble down your shaky thighs.

When Billy pulled out of you and let go of your hair, you simply fell on the bed, powerless and out of breath, and he lay next to you, visibly proud of himself.

"What do you think now?" he asked in a gruff voice.

"About what?"

"That all men are the same."

"Well..." you trailed off with a smile on your face and slid your finger up his chest. Billy felt an excitatory shiver run down his spine. "Now I'm open to suggestions."

"I thought I had you pretty convinced back there." He put his arm on your lower back and pulled you closer to him.

"Oh, dear Billy, and what if I played you?" you whispered to him. Your noses were nearly touching and you caught Billy casting his eyes to your reddened, swollen lips before he answered.

"That scream didn't seem fake to me."

"I practiced."

Billy laughed at your answer but his smile quickly faded when you sat on top of him. His hands rested on your hips, the same place he gripped so hard not too long ago. The sounds of night-time traffic filled the short silence that fell between you.

"Mister Russo," you spoke in a low tone. You were looking straight into his eyes, faces mere inches from each other. His heart started to race again. Your hand brushed against his cheek. "When you undress a woman and her underwear matches, it wasn't your idea to have sex."

His mind raced back to the image of you wearing dark green lingerie and how much he wanted to just rip it off.

To Billy's dismay, you got off his lap and walked out of the bedroom. His eyes were focused on your naked body, a little reddened around your hips. Your butt jiggled enticingly as you made your way out of the room. Billy's ego, now slightly challenged, was screaming at him to do something, to prove that he still has the upper hand, to just slam you against the wall and have his way with you however he likes. Who knew being defied could ever rile him up so bad.

[bowlegsandbiceps]

Suptober Day 9: Body Mod

Mature / Piercer!Dean & Customer!Cas / Destiel Meet Cute / 2,104 words

Read on AO3

Suptober Masterlist (A03)

“Winchester!”

Dean looked up from his paperback and leaned to the side so he could see around Benny’s customer.

“We got a lost bet coming your way!” The receptionist’s voice echoed off the walls and the tattoo guns at every station paused for the artist to snicker before they all started back up again. Dean heaved a sigh, dropping his feet from the padded table in front of him and tossing his book on his supply cart, ambling up to the front desk.

A very sullen - very attractive - man stood across from the desk and Charlie turned to give Dean a very obvious wink before smacking him on the butt as she sauntered away. Dean pursed his lips, glaring at her over his shoulder before turning back to Mr. Hot and Grumpy.

“Hey I’m Dean,” Dean offered his hand and the man tilted his head to get a look at his palm, almost as if checking for dirt or a buzzer before placing his hand delicately into Dean’s. Dean waited. Finally, he cleared his throat. “And you are?”

“Does it matter?” The man replied glumly and Dean’s eyebrows raised. 

“Well, you gotta sign some paperwork if you’re gettin’ pierced so, kinda?”

The man heaved a martyred sigh. “Castiel Novak.”

“Alright, Cas what part of your body am I gonna be punching a hole through?” Dean reached for a clipboard, grabbing the necessary paperwork from Charlie’s ready-made pile. Castiel mumbled so low Dean felt it shiver along his skin. “I’m sorry?” Dean touched his earlobe with two fingers.

Castiel looked miserable. “My nipples.”

Dean’s eyebrows raised as he handed over the clipboard. “Both of ‘em?”

“Unfortunately,” 

Castiel sighed again, taking the pen jammed in the clip and frowned as he read through the release. “Why am I even reading this?” He muttered to himself after a moment and skipped right to the bottom, signing with a flourish. “How long is this going to take?”

“Couple-a minutes.” Dean took the clipboard. “Can I see your ID?”

Castiel blinked at him. “You’re carding me?”

Dean sighed. The hot ones were always assholes. “Looks like it. No ID. No piercing.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, reaching back for his wallet, and pulled out his ID. Dean looked at it, then looked at Castiel. He had messy dark hair, a heavy brow, and deep blue eyes that Dean felt like he could fall into. The full lips, chapped as they were, were also really doing it for him. Dean gave a short nod, handing the ID back.

“Alright Castiel James Novak, please follow me.”

Dean led him back over to his station, glaring at Benny who gave him a shit-eating grin. So Dean had a type and his client fit it, Benny didn’t have to be a shit about it. Dean glanced at his work as he passed. “Hey that’s pretty good for your first tattoo ever,” Dean quipped and the sorority girl on Benny’s table lifted her head like her neck was on fire. 

“What?”

“Nothin’.” Benny patted her hip then returned to working on her tramp stamp. “Don’t say shit like that, man.”

Dean let out a mean little chuckle before beginning to prepare his area. He paused, turning to Castiel. “Uh, are you shy or anything? We can do this in the back-“

Castiel had already shrugged out of his tan overcoat and when he whipped off the plain white tee he had on underneath, Dean’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Not shy. Got it.”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

Dean gestured for him to sit and Castiel climbed up onto the table awkwardly. Dean grabbed up his trashcan and set it next to the table as a precaution before turning to his sink to wash his hands. 

“Do you have piercings besides the ones on your face?”

Dean looked over his shoulder. “I don’t have my dick pierced if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

“I have one of my nipples pierced.” Dean shook off his hands and began gathering his supplies, lining them up on his tray. “And my tongue.” Dean sat in his chair, rolling closer. Castiel squinted at Dean. Dean opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Castiel grimaced.

“That seems painful.”

“It was.”

“Glad I didn’t pick that.”

Dean paused, a bottle of saline in his hand. “You picked your nipples?”

Castiel nodded. “It was between nipples, tongue or-“ Castiel cut himself off, clearing his throat. “I don’t have a lot of sensation in my nipples so I figured that was my best option.”

Dean chuckled. “Oh, you’re about to my friend.”

Castiel grumbled miserably as Dean pulled on his gloves. “I don’t suppose you have any topical numbing cream?”

“Fresh out,” Dean said popping his glove and giving Castiel a grin. “Stand please.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you some kind of sadist?”

Dean blinked. “No.”

“You seem almost excited to do this to me,” Castiel eyed him as he slipped off the table.

“What can I say? I love my job.” Dean reached for an alcohol pad and tore it open. 

Benny snorted. “Yeah what other profession lets you play with people’s nipples?”

Dean was just about to sterilize Castiel’s right nipple when he pulled back, giving Benny a deadpan stare before flipping him off. “Sorry about him. He was raised by wolves.”

Benny threw his head back and let out a howl.

“Rude wolves,” Dean added and Benny laughed, going back to his work. 

“You said you had one nipple pierced,” Castiel said, flinching as Dean wiped over his nipple and all around it until the nub was pebbled up and hard then did the same to the other. “Why only the one.”

“Because it hurt like hell,” Dean quipped and Castiel glared at him. “Oh come on I’m kidding. The other one rejected.” Dean grabbed up a small marker.

“R-rejected? How?”

Dean pinched at Castiel’s nipple, leaning in close as he made a mark on one side of it. “My brother punched me in the chest two days after I got it.” Castiel looked down at him horrified. Dean glanced up. “What it was an accident. He didn’t know I’d just gotten my nipples pierced. 

“Why did you get them pierced?”

Dean shrugged, moving Castiel’s nipple around, marking the other side. “Something to do.” Dean cleared his throat, switching to the other nipple, pinching lightly before making a mark. “So… what did you bet on?”

Castiel shifted and Dean placed a hand on his hip to halt the movement before pressing against his nipple again to mark the other side. “It was more of an alternative dare.”

Dean huffed a laugh and Castiel shivered. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Sorry. Uh… what was the other dare?”

“To kiss a girl.”

Dean’s arms fell to his sides as he stood at his full height. “You chose getting your nipples pierced over kissing a girl?”

“Yes.”

Dean looked over his shoulder at Benny, gesturing to Castiel and Benny just shrugged, going back to his work. Dean looked to Castiel again, raising his hands in question. “Why?”

“It’s been longer than two minutes can we get on with this please?” Castiel’s blue eyes flashed and Dean showed his palms.

“Sorry, sir. Lay back with your head facing that way please.” Dean indicated one end of the table and Castiel hopped on, laying back.

Dean grabbed for the needle unpackaging it before slathering a bit of vaseline on the outside of his gloved hand to hold the needle. Dean reached for a cork and the forceps opening them as he leaned over Castiel’s chest. He took his time getting the placement right.

“Slight pinch here, m’kay?”

Castiel grumbled crabbily and winced as Dean locked the clamp into place “I don’t kiss girls.” 

Dean tugged on the forceps a bit, checking the placement again before grabbing the needle off his glove. “Again, I ask why? Take a deep breath for me. In and out.”

Castiel did as he was told. “How would you feel being forced to kiss a man?”

“Depends on how hot he is. One more deep breath. In…” Dean placed the needle on one side of Castiel’s nipple. “And out.” On Castiel’s exhale he pushed, quick and hard, sinking the needle into the cork and Castiel’s body went tense but he made no sound. “Okay just gonna add the jewelry here.” 

“You’re attracted to men?” Castiel asked as Dean threaded the bar through his nipple and twisted the ball on the end. 

“Some of ‘em,” Dean gave a shrug. “Alright sit up. Slow!” Dean’s hand landed on Castiel’s shoulder as he spun himself so his legs dangled off the side of the table, sitting up straight. “You feel dizzy?”

“No. It didn’t really hurt.”

Dean grinned. “Good. Head down there please.” Dean indicated the other side and Castiel did as he was bid. “This one should hurt even less. You’ve got the endorphins going now.”

“Wonderful.”

Dean laughed. “Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of hilarious?”

Castiel let his head fall back as he let out another martyred sigh. “All the time.”

“See I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not,” Dean chuckled, unpackaging a new needle and sticking it to his glove before going for the forceps again.

“Those hurt worse than the needle,” Castiel complained and Dean looked down at him, mouth opening.

“Right? No one ever believes me when I say that. Deep breath in.” Castiel sucked in a breath. “And out.” Castiel closed his eyes as he exhaled. Dean took a second to admire his face. “Another deep breath in.” He positioned the needle. “And out.” Quick push in and he reached for the other barbell. “Good job, dude.” He slipped it in and applied the ball. “Hold still, I’m gonna spray you down with H2Ocean.”

Dean went over basic aftercare as he patted at the piercings, admiring his work and frankly the canvas as well before taping gauze to Castiel’s chest. Castiel nodded along, threading his arms back through his shirt and letting it fall back covering his torso. Dean started walking him to the front.

“It’ll be at least nine months before it’s fully healed. Just try not to touch them and you’ll be fine.” Dean nudged Charlie out of the way and leaned on the front desk. “So that’s twenty for each piercing and thirty-five for each piece of jewelry.” Dean watched as Castiel reached back gingerly for his wallet, his hipbone peeking out as he did so. Dean licked his lips. “Eh just make it an even hundred and we’re square.”

Castiel looked at him and blinked. Dean just shrugged and Castiel nodded, handing over six twenties. Dean smiled, pocketing one of them. “If I have questions about the aftercare, can I call you?”

“Yeah sure but honestly you could just google- OW!” Dean looked over his shoulder at Charlie who had just hit him hard on the bicep. “Yeah man call any time.”

“I don’t have your number…” Castiel eyed him, shifting from foot to foot.

“Oh shit, yeah.” Dean leaned over fumbling at the little business card holders but didn’t see any of his. “Eh this one is Benny’s but it’s got the shop number on there.”

Charlie heaved a sigh, sounding incredibly put out as she nudged Dean out of the way, grabbing a marker. “Here’s his cell. He works Tuesday through Saturday and he’s free this Sunday if you want to take him out for coffee.”

Charlie handed over the card and Castiel looked at her then looked down at the card then looked at Dean. Dean just stared back. Charlie elbowed him hard in the ribs. “OW! Yeah! I would love to get coffee.”

“There’s a place on North River Ave that has a roastery.” Castiel shifted from foot to foot, a shy smile pulling at his lips.

Dean beamed back. “Perfect I love roasteries.”

“Dean likes pumpkin spice lattes from Starbucks,” Charlie supplied and Dean glared at her betrayed but was instantly soothed by Castiel’s deep rumble of laughter.

“I knew he had to have a flaw in there somewhere.” Dean blinked at Castiel, his face flushing deep red. Castiel turned a little pink himself. “I’ll see you Sunday. Say 10:30?”

“I’ll be there.”

Castiel gave him a small smile before turning to leave, letting out a small throaty laugh as he heard the shop behind him explode in wolf whistles, Dean’s voice shouting over the din. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all a bunch of rude-ass wolves.”

A series of howls followed.

[kittenfangirl20]

(No matter the universe, Alastor is a creepy motherfucker. I also came up with an idea for this story where the two different versions of Adam can communicate with each other through their dreams)

*Adam provided Charlie with some very good advice about how to run the hotel better and she got so happy when both Adam and Lucifer told her that her hotel was a success in their universe and she was right about redemption, Charlie gave them a key to one of the nicer rooms and once inside Lucifer pinned Adam to the bed and started kissing while pulling off their clothes, Lucifer gently pulled on Adam’s nipple piercings which made him even more excited*

Adam: Luci, you need to prep me, doing anal is different than vaginal sex.

*Lucifer nodded and made a bottle of lube appear in his hand, Adam blushed thinking of how it was like before he married Lucifer and became intersex, Adam found a way to sneak a dildo into Heaven and would use it quite often while imagining that it was Lucifer pleasing him this way, Lucifer covered three fingers with lube and moved them to Adam’s entrance, Adam moaned as Lucifer slowly interested the fingers one at a time, this was different, but not in a bad way, he threw his head back and cried out in pleasure when Lucifer’s fingers found Adam’s prostate, he had forgotten how good stimulating his prostate was*

Adam: I need you inside of me.

*Adan whimpered when Lucifer removed his fingers from him, but those were quickly replaced with happy moans when the fingers were replaced with Lucifer’s dick*

Adam: No matter what you make me feel so good Luci.

*Lucifer gave a seductive smile as he started to thrust, OG Adam didn’t want to admit it, but being pregnant with Lucifer’s babies felt right, he felt so whole and complete this way, he got the feeling that the other Adam felt the same way because he thought back to Eden days when OG Adam would ask the angels why he couldn’t be the one to get pregnant because it sounded so wonderful to him, OG Adam and OG Lucifer quietly left and went back to the palace, OG Lucifer told one of the guards to find anyone who had sold Mammon illicit spells while OG Adam sat there still torn between whether he really wanted to go back, this Adam had such a wonderful life and Lucifer loved him in this universe instead of hated him like his Lucifer did*

OG Lucifer: Is everything alright?

OG Adam: Yeah, I just need to take a piss.

*it wasn’t a lie, being pregnant made him need to pee a lot, he walked to the bathroom and to his annoyance he had to sit down to pee since the very large stomach made it hard to grab his dick, once he was done, he stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror, all the emotions he was holding back suddenly broke through and he fell to his knees as he broke down sobbing, he wanted this life, not the life he had in his own universe and more importantly he wanted OG Lucifer to love him, OG Lucifer was wondering what was taking OG Adam so long and decided to check on him*

(Queen Adam Part 4)

*Adam woke up with his body not feeling right, the first thing he noticed was when he slid out of bed was that he had toes instead of hooves, he hadn’t had toes for years, the second thing he noticed was that he was in his old bedroom in Heaven instead of the room he shared with Lucifer at the Morningstar Manor in Hell he walked to the restroom and was shocked by how he looked, he was an angel again and there were dark circles under his eyes, he had way more piercings than he was used to, Adam just had a bunch of piercings in his ears, but this body had both eyebrows pierced and a tongue ring, he even lifted up his shirt and saw his nipples were pierced and he wasn’t pregnant and his breasts were missing, he put his shirt down and then put his hands down his pants to see that his pussy was gone*

Sera: Starlight, you need to get ready for the meeting.

Adam: What meeting?

*Adam pulled his pants out of his boxer shorts when Sera walked into his room*

Sera: The meeting with Princess Charlotte Morningstar where you will tell her that we moved up the next Extermination Day so it will in six months instead of a year.

Adam internally: What the fuck?

*in another version of Hell OG Adam was waking up shocked to see his head resting on OG Lucifer’s chest, he practically jumped out of the bed and looked down in shocked to see his legs were covered in fur and had hooves, he ran to the luxurious bathroom, OG Adam looked in the mirror to see he had horns on his head and his wings were black, to his confusion OG Adam was dressed in a fancy black nightgown and he pulled up the nightgown to see his stomach was bigger than usual and he had breasts, though OG Adam had to admit that they were really hot breasts, but weirdly he wore black silk panties, he put one of his clawed hands into his panties and felt both a dick and a pussy, OG Lucifer quickly sat up in the bed when heard OG Adam scream*

OG Lucifer: What the fuck?

(OG Adam and OG Lucifer are the names we will be using for the versions of Adam and Lucifer from the show universe)

(Sounds good to me 😎)

OG Lucifer got out of bed, he was at the manor but things were slightly different. Like why was Adam here in his fucking bathroom?

OG Lucifer was about to walk over when the door flew open. OG Adam nearly walked into him and startled when he saw him standing there.

OG Adam: What the fuck is going on?! What is all this? Why do I look like this? Why are you here?!

OG Lucifer: First off, you're in my manor. Which, I'm not even sure that's right..... Something feels off.

OG Adam: Oh you fucking think?

OG Lucifer: Secondly, I don't know why you look like that or...... Why is your stomach so big?

OG Adam placed his hands there, it didn't feel like it was fat, too firm and round to just be a gut. Then he felt something move inside and he nearly screamed.

He must have had a horrified look on his face, because OG Lucifer looked at him questionably.

OG Lucifer: What is it?

OG Adam: I.... I think I know but I hope I'm fucking wrong. Put your hand here.

OG Lucifer: What?

OG Adam: Just do it!

He grabbed his hand and placed it on his belly. OG Lucifer waited for something to happen and then he felt it.

A baby kick.

OG Lucifer's hand was removed and OG Adam paced trying to think of what the fuck was going on. They were both confused.

OG Lucifer had to admit that OG Adam looked good in his current body. A perfect blend of masculine and feminine, the baby bump perfectly round, his breasts a good size and an hour glass figure. With strong arms and yet delicate hands.

Then something clicked in his brain. Waking up in bed together, Adam being in the house, the baby bump, even the fucking rings he was just now seeing on their fingers.

He had to check something.

OG Lucifer ran out of the room, OG Adam calling out to him for where he was going.

He went down the hall until he found a large portrait. Of him, Adam and apparently many children.

They were in an alternate universe where him and Adam were married with kids.

OG Lucifer: Oh my father, what the fuck?

What kind of cruel joke was this?

[the-al-chemist]

Learning To Fly - Chapter 6: Flying

A/N: Autumn arrives at the Dragon Reserve. Knowing that he has to release Norbert soon, Charlie takes him out to explore… Warnings: none, but it’s sort of emotional.

I know that you’re probably asleep right now - though maybe not, knowing you - and we are going to write later anyway, but I couldn’t not write to you about this straight away. This morning Norbert and I flew all the way over the valley up to the fifth peak. It’s the furthest we’ve gone so far. We are still out now, we’re just at the edge of a forest, and Norbert has just discovered autumn leaves for the first time.

The smell of something burning pierced Charlie’s nostrils, and he immediately stopped writing in his notebook. Looking up, he saw that Norbert had set a handful of fallen leaves alight.

“Aguamenti,” said Charlie, quickly pointing his wand at the autumnal pyre. A jet of water extinguished the flames, and Norbert turned his head to glare at Charlie, who shrugged. “Sorry, mate. You can’t go around starting forest fires. We’re still not in Magda’s good books as it is.”

Norbert looked away, and returned to chasing the russet-coloured leaves that were blowing in the breeze. There was a loud crunching sound as he landed on a pile of them, and he looked down at his talons before rolling on his back on the leaf-strewn ground. Charlie laughed and shook his head.

He’s playing like a hatchling and having the time of his life. It’s actually really cute, and that isn’t a word you tend to associate with dragons that much. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know about the leaves, and about Norbert and how well he’s doing.

It was true. Norbert was doing really well. It was hard to believe that this was the same malnourished and underdeveloped juvenile that had arrived at the sanctuary that morning in early May. Now, Norbert was strong and mischievous, currently gambolling in the leaves on the side of a mountain as the October sun started to rise over the tops of the trees on the horizon.

Looking at the scene in front of him, Charlie felt a swell of pride and affection, which gave way to distinct wistfulness. As much as he was glad that Norbert was almost ready to be set free, there was a part of him that wasn’t yet ready to say goodbye. He returned his attention back to his notebook, and finished writing his message to Artemis.

I wish you could be here to see him for yourself. Good morning for whenever you read this.

Charlie closed the notebook and put it away. He knew that he really ought to head back with Norbert before the sun finished rising. The mating season was coming to its end, but the wild dragons on the reserve were still straying from their usual territories, and he didn’t really want to encounter any of them as he and Norbert flew back to the compound. Norbert didn’t yet know how to interact with other dragons, and other dragons didn’t know how to not see humans as anything other than a potential meal.

That being said, a few more minutes couldn’t hurt. Norbert was enjoying playing with the leaves, and Charlie could see that he was mimicking hunting behaviours. If anything, this was good for his development. They could stay like this for a little longer, Charlie reasoned.

He must have left it a little too long, though, because soon he heard the unmistakable sound of a dragon call. Not deep enough for an Ironbelly, or melodious enough for a Common Green. A Longhorn, perhaps, Charlie thought, and a moment later, the shadow of a dragon passed high in the sky overhead.

Hearing the noise, Norbert raised his head from the leaves, and watched the other dragon intently, before turning towards Charlie and snorting.

“We can’t go flying after it, Norbert,” Charlie told him. “That dragon won’t know that steaks taste better than people, I’m afraid.”

Norbert snorted again, and Charlie shrugged at him. Somewhat sulkily, Norbert turned away, and kept watching the Longhorn as it flew into the distance.

Interesting, Charlie thought. Maybe he was better off staying here for a while. That way, Norbert could get used to seeing and hearing a few other dragons at a safer distance. As long as they returned while it was still quite cold, there wouldn’t be too many around to pose a danger to them, just enough to give Norbert some exposure to his own kind.

Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Charlie heard the lyrical call of the Common Green, and the mighty roar of the Horntail. At the sound of each, Norbert raised his head, and looked to see where the sound was coming from, before taking off into the air, flying a quick circuit over the side of the mountain, and returning to the ground. Charlie watched him, closely observing his every movement. He looked excited, not scared.

“See, mate,” Charlie said, as Norbert turned his attention to something crimson flying across the valley far in the distance. A Fireball. “You’re not the only dragon in the world, or even on the reserve. A couple more weeks, and you’ll be able to go out and start finding your own territory. You’ll like that.”

But Norbert wasn’t listening to Charlie at all, his attention was elsewhere. He was listening to something his ears could hear but Charlie’s could not. Then, Norbert let out a quiet cry, and Charlie’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“What is it? What’s wrong, are you-”

The rest of Charlie’s question was drowned out by a dragon call, one he recognised better than all the others, though this was deeper and more powerful than the one he was used to. It was a Ridgeback. A wild, fully grown Norwegian Ridgeback.

At the sound of the Ridgeback’s call, Norbert cried out again, and flapped his wings. The wild Ridgeback called out once more, and Norbert responded in the same fashion, his own roar louder than before.

The wild Ridgeback’s third call sounded less distant, and Charlie turned his head towards the noise. Sure enough, the dragon was soaring over the valley, closer to them than Charlie was strictly comfortable with. It was larger than Norbert, and sleeker too, gliding through the misty morning air and settling on a nearby peak.

Norbert looked at it, flapped his wings once more, and let out a soft whine. He turned back to Charlie, and snorted again.

“I told you,” Charlie said, shaking his head. “I can’t fly with the other dragons. Look, that one doesn’t have a human, does he? No. He probably ate his human.”

Of course, Norbert had no idea what Charlie was saying, but he didn’t snort again. Instead, he lay on the ground and watched the other Ridgeback on its peak across the valley.

“I know, that one looks just like you. That’s what you’ll look like soon, anyway.”

The other dragon preened itself for a while - Norbert watching and mimicking it the entire time - before launching from the ground to become skybound once more. Norbert jumped upright, and cried out as the wild dragon started to fly away. It was a mournful sound that made Charlie’s heart ache. Norbert raised his wings and looked as if he were about to set off after the wild dragon, but then he stopped, and turned back to Charlie.

“Norbert,” Charlie said, quietly, “if you want to go after the dragon, you can, you know. There’s nothing stopping you.”

But Norbert, of course, couldn’t understand Charlie. He lay on the ground, his head resting on the floor. Charlie sighed. He didn’t know what to do next.

In the distance, the wild Ridgeback called out again, the sound echoing through the valley, and Norbert lifted his head, turning it to the noise. He snorted at the wild dragon, still just about visible as it flew in the distance.

“Norbert, I mean it. You want to go. Go. You’re ready,” Charlie told him. “You don’t need me anymore. You’re free.”

Norbert raised himself onto his haunches and looked straight at Charlie, who swallowed hard.

“And it’s not like we won’t ever see each other again. I still live here, and you’ll just be out there. It’s not like it’s goodbye forever,” he told the dragon, with a sad smile. “Just, you know, make sure you take care of yourself out there. There’s lots of stuff I’ve not been able to show you yet, and not all of it is safe. You have to be careful of things, yeah? And make sure you eat plenty of fish. I know they aren’t as tasty as steaks, but they’re really good for you. It’s the omega oils, they’re really good for your joints, and you’ll need that because you’re already pretty big, and you’re only going to get bigger.

“And try not to cause any trouble with anyone. Remember, lots of those other dragons are stronger than you, and most of them are probably fiercer. Especially the females, they are the most dangerous of the lot of them, so don’t go doing anything stupid.”

Charlie, having started talking with a lump in his throat that had made it hard for him to speak at all, was now finding himself unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth.

“Seriously, mate, I mean it. Even if she’s only small, and you don’t think she’ll be able to do any harm, you still have to watch yourself, because before you know it, it’ll be too late. She will have found some way of getting inside your head, and your heart, and soon you’ll be doing all sorts of stupid things, like fighting giant spiders, and stealing a car, and getting attacked by a chimaera, and walking a bloody dragon on a lead, all for…”

Charlie’s voice tailed off as he realised what he was saying. Where had all of that come from? Why was he saying this now, or at all? Why had he done any of those stupid things in the first place?

Well, that was an easy question to answer. He’d done those things for Artemis. Because, well, someone had to, didn’t they? If not him, then who would? She was his best friend, and she deserved to have someone do a few stupid things for her every now and then.

Although, looking back, he had done quite a lot of things for her, and not all of them had been stupid. Often, they were just little things, things that he knew would make her smile. He hadn’t thought about it before, because he had never minded. He still didn’t mind now, because he loved seeing her smile, and he loved being the one to make her smile. He loved…

“Her,” Charlie said out loud, and his breath caught in his throat. He frowned and swallowed again. “Huh.”

Dawn was breaking over the mountain, just as a realisation had dawned over Charlie. A realisation that he now wished he could go back and un-realise, because it was making his head spin, and his palms sweat, and his mouth go dry, and his heart beat so wildly he felt as if it might burst out of his chest and fly away across the valley.

Charlie was panicking, panicking more than he’d ever panicked about anything in his entire life. It was as if a great wind had suddenly buffeted him and sent him veering off course, and there was nothing to stop it, nothing to bring him back to his original path, or even to the ground.

Then, suddenly, there was.

A warm, gentle pressure and strange scaly texture against his palm brought him back to his senses. He looked down, and saw that Norbert had pressed his nose against his left hand. Charlie blinked, scarcely able to believe it.

He was touching a dragon. A real, live dragon.

By the time the thought had fully registered, Norbert had backed away from him.

“Thank you, Norbert,” said Charlie, his voice a hoarse whisper, “for everything.”

Norbert looked to the sky once more and took to it, flying off after the wild dragon and into the distance.

Charlie smiled as he watched Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback fly away from him, becoming smaller and smaller as he neared the horizon, where the mountains disappeared into the mist. Out of the mist the sky was lit up with every possible hue a sunrise could bring.

A new day had begun, and now Charlie was going to have to face that day all alone.

He felt happy for Norbert, but he felt sad for himself, too. And anxious, so very anxious. Most of all, though, he felt hopeful. For the second time that morning, he found himself wishing that Artemis had been there with him.

In spite of everything, Charlie laughed. Of course he wished that. He always did. At least he had finally learned the reason why.

And so, with a lingering warmth in the palm of his hand, the sound of dragonsong in his ears, and a heart that was both heavy and light, Charlie watched Norbert fly away from him, free at last.

[fandom-puff]

As Time Went On

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could I request a Tommy Shelby x reader where it shows your relationship throughout your whole life so like from being friends at a really young age until married in adulthood’

Warnings: mentions of war/violence/sex but nothing in detail. Also, drinking and smoking

Gif creds to owner

“Oi! You’re not allowed here. Girls aren’t allowed,”

You rolled your eyes, concentrating on scribbling the names of the horses your father had told you onto a bit of paper with a blunt pencil.

“Shut it, Shelby. Your Aunt Polly is a girl and she’s always here. Anyway, Dad doesn’t finish in the factory until after closing time and Mum’s too busy taking care of my brother, so shut the fuck up and let me put my bloody bet on,”

Polly smirked into her cup as she walked over to you both, trying not to laugh at the argument between the two seven year olds (although Tommy would constantly remind everyone that he was actually seven and a half). “Alright, Thomas. Go and help your brother, you know he’s bad at sums. You written those horses down for me , love?” She asked, and you handed her the piece of paper. While she checked over your wonky writing, tommy glared at you, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away.

***

“What if he kicks me? Or throws me off? Or bites me?”

Tommy laughed slightly. “He won’t. Shadow’s a good horse. Even our Ada rides him sometimes. C’mon, I’ll help you up,” Although a little apprehensive, you accepted Tommy’s leg up as you got onto the horse, eyes widening as he shifted. “It’s alright. He’s just getting used to you,”

“I thought girls were meant to ride with their legs on one side,” you said after a while as Tommy began leading the horse slowly around his paddock.

“Only rich, posh girls who don’t know anything about horses,” tommy said. “Us? We know horses. This is how we do it,”

You nodded, smiling slightly as you looked down at tommy. You were both fourteen now, him nearing fifteen, and he seemed to have grown overnight. When you were younger, you had been a few inches taller than him, which came at a real advantage when you played chase (or a fun game called Run As Fast As You Can So Polly Doesn’t Wack Us With Her Wooden Spoon) but now, even with you atop the horse, you could see how much taller he was.

A little while later, he helped you down off Shadow, and he gulped, feeling the softness of your waist beneath your dress. He cleared his throat and together you led the horse back to the stables, stealing glances at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

***

“My dad will fucking kill me,” you said in a hushed voice, barely suppressing your tipsy giggles as you and Tommy sat by the Cut, hiding in the shadows of Charlie’s yard.

“He’s more likely to kill me,” Tommy grinned, taking a swig from the bottle before passing it to you. “Sixteen years old and here you are, out past midnight, getting you shitfaced, smoking. I really have led you astray,”

You grinned, gulping from the bottle and sloshing it down your front. Tommy shook his head fondly. “You’re such a fuckin’ lightweight, YN,” he said, and you laughed loudly. “Shhh shut the fuck up,” tommy said, his own laugh betraying him as he pressed his hand ovef your mouth. You stared at eachother for a moment as he slowly moved his hand and you leaned in close, pressing your lips against his.

“Oi! Who’s there?”

“Shit, Charlie’s coming, c’mon! Grab the fuckin’ whiskey, YN, for Christ’s sake!”

Tommy grabbed your hand and pulled you up and you ran off, laughing into the night.

***

He was different when he came back from France. They all were.

Tommy wouldn’t let go of you when he stepped off the train, his tears soaking into the shoulder of your coat. It was only when you promised you’d stay with him at the little house in Watery Lane that he pulled away, and you walked arm in arm together.

He proposed that night, and it was the first time you and the Shelby’s (save for Finn, who didn’t quite understand why his brothers were so sad all of a sudden) properly smiled in years.

***

The arrival of Grace Burgess to Small Heath caused quite the stir, but you and Polly saw right through her. She expected her singing to entrap tommy into spilling the Peaky secrets, but when you cornered her before opening time, she soon backed off. Whether it was the butterfly knife you rammed into the bar, the ice cold look you fixed her with, or your silver tongue, she knew it was more than her life’s worth to cross Polly Gray and YN Shelby.

You and Polly made a point of ordering Scotch whiskey whenever Grace was around- much to the brother’s amusement.

***

You were furious with Tommy for facing off with Billy Kimber, and even more so when Sabini got involved.

That didn’t stop you doting on him, making sure his bullet wound from Kimber was cleaned daily.

And Tommy definitely milked it, even after it began to scar.

“Ay, where’s my kiss to make it better, Mrs Shelby?” He’d ask with a cheeky glint in his eye that was only ever seen by you.

“You’re pushing your fucking luck, you,” you’d say.

But of course, you’d press a gentle kiss over the bandage, and another to his lips.

***

When Polly grasped onto your breast after a family meeting, all hell broke loose. Ada, with little Karl on her lap gave you a knowing look, while Arthur and John cheered loudly (“about time, Tom!”). Finn was confused as to why you were recieving an impromptu breast exam at the table, and Tommy... just stared at you with wide eyes.

“Am I...?”

“Is she...?” You said at the same time and Polly just nodded, returning to her seat and giving you both a smile.

You and Tommy left early, with John and Arthur shouting after you both to be careful, ready to wet the baby’s head even though it was barely more than a tiny speck at that moment in time.

***

“Thomas Michael Shelby I am never sleeping with you again you utter bastard! Ah!”

Tommy paced in the landing, your pained screams driving him mad. He had tried sitting at the table and smoking with brothers as you laboured, but he couldn’t bare to be so far away from you. Polly, Esme and Ada were keeping him busy, sending him for more hot water every now and then.

When the piercing sound of a baby crying filled the house, he slumped against the wall with relief as everyone downstairs cheered.

Polly peaked her head around the door, smiling warmly. “In you come then. Come and meet your little boy,”

Tommy felt his eyes well up as he stepped over the threshold to the rest of his life, smiling down at you as you looked up, looking utterly worn out, but with a smile bright enough to power the whole country, a tiny bundle in your arms.

Tommy say carefully on the edge of the bed, leaning a little closer.

“Come here, you silly git,” you said gently, letting him shuffle closer. He peaked over the blanket and felt his heart melt as he stared at the tiny, sleeping baby with a shock of dark hair.

“Our little boy, Tom,” you said gently.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at you both in awe. “Our little boy. My little family,”

Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @imareallygrumpyme @acciosiriusblack

DM me to be on my tag list (with what fandoms you wanna be tagged in, as well as if you wanna be tagged in smut x)

[migilini]

Could you please write one of those Tiktok "I tried to kiss my bestfriend / crush" challenge for either Charlie or Owen. Thanks!

Crushtok - Owen Patrick Joyner

A/N: Yes ofc I can! I never wrote for Owen so let me know what you think! I hope you like it :)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: tiktok and noise (so none really)

Requests are open!

MASTERLIST

--------‐--------------

The sun poked through curtains and you swore that you had heard birds the day before but it was loud, uncomfortably so. All you heard was the clacking of metal and the rattling of the machinery that the construction in front of Owens Appartement made. All the unpleasant noises woke you up in the early morning. Grumbling, you tried to block out the noise with a pillow pressed against your face.

"That's not gonna work sleepy beauty" a lower voice croaked, catching you completely off guard so you let out a quiet shriek. "Oweenn why do you have to scare me badly in the morning?" You whined and took the pillow away from your face.

He sat on the other side of the couch, just underneath your feet and looked absolutely tired. His blonde hair was standing up in every possible direction, his normally piercing blue eyes trying their best to stay open. By the way, he was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips, you figured that you didn't look any better.

"Because it's 6 am on a Saturday morning and I didn't want to suffer alone. So lucky you for visiting me this week!" Owen exclaimed and hit your leg in a joking manner.

"I've got thrown out by my landlord. I'm not here on my own terms..." this earned you a shocked gasp from the boy sitting in front of you. "And there I was, thinking this friendship meant something to you." You just rolled your eyes with a smirk.

"Do you want to come back to my bedroom? With some music playing it's much quieter than out here." Nodding tiredly, he held out a hand to help you stand up; you only noticed when you nuzzled into his bed that he didn't let go of your hand.

You woke up a couple of hours later, quiet pop music filled the darkroom and it was hot, your bare legs sticking to the duvet covers. You turned around and faced a back with broad shoulders that were just moments ago pressed against your back. Groaning, you stuck your legs out of the bed, the cold air cooling you down immediately. Owen stirred next to you and sat up slowly.

"Morning part 2." you chuckled and automatically pushed some of his hair out of his face.

"Mornin" he mumbled back.

"You were right it's much quieter in your room."

You stood up, stretching your limbs, before heading back into the living room where all your stuff was stored, quite impractically but it was stored.

You heard a shower running, that gave you the perfect time to change from your big shirt and little pants sleep attire to a more comfortable day outfit. After rummaging through your boxes, that you packed in a freezy, you choose some brown cotton pants with a white body and to top it off your favourite purple cardigan that Owen gifted you one Christmas. With some extra time, you put on your glasses and started to search for a new place to stay.

"So what do you wanna do today? I have nothing going on so..." you stopped listening as Owen walked into the living room shirtless. He wore some blue sweatpants that hung quite low on his hips, his chest still sparkling from the water.

You would have probably started to drool if he wouldn't have worn his hair in a towel bun.

You let out a laugh that made him stop in his tracks.

"What?" he stared at you intensely.

"Oh, nothing princess... nothing. We uh... could look at some apartments for me and just go for a drive?"

"Am I that bad of a roommate?" he said and plopped down next to you on the couch his arm resting on the top comfortably.

"No but I would really appreciate a place to store my stuff properly." you continued to scroll through places to stay.

"This one looks good." he pointed out and put his finger on the screen, you hadn't realised that he rested his arm just above your shoulders so it took you off guard when you suddenly felt his arm on your neck.

"Mhmm, but you cant look at it today... This one though has a viewing in the late afternoon."

"Then that's our plan for today."

++

"Y/N! Y/N!" Owen screamed loudly from the kitchen "Come here real quick."

With your phone still in one hand, you waddled over to your best friend. "What's the emergency?" you looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Do this TikTok with me." he pleaded and looked at you with a slight pout, shoving his phone in your face. Your eyes scanned the screen and then you scoffed, "First of all since when are you on lesbian TikTok? And secondly, that's a bit... explicit... don't you think?"

"W- Our lips don't have to touch! I don't have anybody else to do it with! Y/N Come On!" he yelled after your figure who left the kitchen with a shaking head and hot cheeks.

Your thought didn't stop racing for the rest of the day. Did Owen want to kiss you? Or was he just so comfortable with your friendship that he really didn't care? You hated that you were a cliche, falling in love with your childhood best friend. Growing up you were always the one rolling your eyes at your parents who thought that you and Owen would make just such a cute couple but here you were, sitting on his couch, your heart beating in your chest and extremely conscious of his presence.

Little did you know that Owen felt the exact same. Over the years and especially puberty, he started to develop feelings for you. At first, he tried to deny them, telling himself that it's just that he's used to you being around but then he left to pursue his acting career and he missed you more than everything in the world. Not a single day went by when he didn't think of you or tried to call you. Ever since then, he tried to be close to you in one way or the other, he didn't care if it was just his leg touching yours or your body heat warming him up.

Due to the fact that you were both anxious people, neither of you ever made a move. He missed your longing stares and you missed the way he was checking you out every time he looked at you.

His friends finally talked some confidence into him and so he took little steps into what should eventually lead to him confessing his love for you. He started to flirt more with you, give you loads of compliments and asked you if you wanted to do some TikTok or lives with him.

Tapping on your shoulder made you look up from your phone, the TikTok you've been watching looping on your screen. Owen stood next to you, his phone pointed to you, a mischievous smirk prominent on his face and whipped cream can in his other hand.

"No." you tried to be serious but a chuckle escaped your lips. Owen turned the camera to him and sprayed some cream into his mouth then stared at you with squinted eyes, the whipped cream flowing out of his mouth.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds, your brain in overdrive, hands sweaty and heart beating rapidly. An idea washed over you and you tilted your head before leaning in close. Owen's eyes went wide and he nearly choked on the cream. But you weren't gonna kiss him seconds before your lips would have met, you halted. Then you slowly took the can of whipped cream out of his hand and sprayed it all over his head.

"You didn't!" he gasped with a full mouth while you laid on the floor, holding your stomach in laughter. Something wet hit your face that stopped you from laughing further. Owen had a massive grin on his face, one hand dripping slightly and his hair, less creamy.

"Be cautious Joyner" you warned standing up on your tiptoes to be as close to him as possible, your pointer finger pressing into his chest "I know where your bed sleeps."

You tried to back out of the situation, knowing damn well that it can easily get out of hand with you two and a whipped cream match would make a lot of mess. But Owen being the child he is, didn't back out, instead, he ripped the can out of your hand and sprayed it down your back.

The war ended peacefully. The cans of whipped cream, yes you found more cans, laying somewhere in the living room both of you covered from head to toe, breathing heavily. Owen held his hands up in surrender and looked up to your position on the coffee table.

"Ha! I win! Told you I didn't want to do the TikTok." you smiled triumphantly. "I say loser cleans this up." before Owen could protest you sprinted to the shower. Lucky for you he actually started to clean up when you walked out of the bathroom, dressed in comfortable sweats and one of Owens hoodie, your damp hair falling over your shoulders.

"Hey Y/N?" Owen asked somehow nervously. "Yes darling?" you answered with a bad British accent.

"Can you come here for a second?"

"Owen I'm not doing that TikTok with you, you just saw how that ended," you argued but made your way over to him. He stood in the middle of the room, his phone propped up on a shelf.

"You have something on your face." you chuckled and whipped away some dried leftovers from your previous war.

"Can you react to this song? I don't remember where I know it from" he asked, his voice shaking slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his odd behaviour just moments ago he was normal and now he acted very strangely.

"Sure." he pulled you in front of him, his hands resting on your shoulders.

'Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle

I can't let you go now that I got it'

“Sounds like BORNS…” you whispered more to yourself than to him and continued to listen to the song “Are you sure you just haven't…” you turned around to face him.

Owen took this as his opportunity to cup your face with both of his hands, softly pressing his lips to yours.

Your breath hitched and it took you a second to realise what was happening. The confidence Owen had just moments ago vanished when you didn't kiss him back immediately. Why should you? You never gave a hint that you liked him like that as well.

Just as he was about to pull away and apologize profusely, you overcame your state of shock. Your arms grabbed his hips to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. You felt him smile against your lips. Your stomach erupted with butterflies, your whole body tingled and your cheeks felt hot.

He was the first one to pull away, resting his forehead on yours. Both breathing heavily, the filming camera was completely forgotten, you looked in each other's eyes.

“I wanted to do that for so long,” you admitted and unconsciously bit your lip. Owen gulped heavily, “Me too but, what the hell! I mean how crazy is that?!”

[gruesomejack]

The way Charlie closed in felt magnetic. Vico watched his face and listened to the quiet drawl that fell from his lips and took in a shaky breath. He wanted to hear that against his ear in soft, blissful purrs; he wanted to hold Charlie even closer than he had that night in his room. "It's not ending yet. And I promise you, I have no plans to rush it." He whispered back, smiling again despite the soft ache in his chest. They had the rest of the night still, and he was going to do his best to make it as lovely as Charlie made him feel. "I-"

Vi's breath hitched. The palm on his hip felt hot and sent a pretty little jolt up his back. Their foreheads met, and he squeezed at the handle of his cane, his chin lifting just barely to rub their noses together. For a moment, the world around them melted away. It was only him and this beautiful man in a dream of their own. Lashes falling shut, he let out a shaky sigh and quickly nodded as Charlie moved back. "I'm not sure I've ever been more certain of anything in my entire life." He said and broke into a breathy laugh. "C'mon, sunshine."

Hand in hand yet, Vi wet his lip and grinned brightly for him, tugging him along with a little more insistence. By the time they were off the grounds and back at the car, he couldn't help himself-- Pinning Charlie to the door, he kissed him again and pressed until their bodies were flushed. His lips moved slowly, his tongue soft and searching, teasing the roof of his mouth with the smooth metal pierced through the muscle. Vi gave him a few quicker kisses, just as gentle. Pulling back, he brought a hand up to scratch along his blonde beard and smiled for him. Pressing his lips together, he let it drop to Charlie's chest to rest over his heart the same way he had the last night they spent together. He felt it beat under his fingers, and for the first time since he was a child, he silently thanked the Mother Mary for keeping him alive. This was right where he was supposed to be.

Vi stepped back and offered him another bashful, pink cheeked grin. "I'm not sure how much longer I can keep my hands off you." He teased and moved around the car to duck into the passenger side once more. Tossing his cane in the back, he waited for Charlie to follow and chewed a little at the corner of his lip. Vico smiled and rubbed at his jaw, "I hope I wooed you enough."

It'd been three weeks. Nick was tired of him coming home exhausted and heartbroken, but for every shop he crossed off, he was one more closer to finding Charlie-- And this time, he had a good feeling. The last shop he'd been to focused mostly on bodywork, and the owner mentioned a younger guy who occasionally came into do paint work for them. Charlie Reimes was the name he eventually shook out of him. And the description was dead on. Lonely, blonde, a little scruffy-- It had to be him. After getting the address to his setup, there was no reason to wait.

Pulling up outside of the garage, Vi took in a shaky breath and parked. He glanced back towards the road and fought down the anxious bubbling in his stomach, threatening to make him sick. Yanking down the sun visor, he grimaced at himself in the mirror and flipped it back up. He didn't have the time to worry about dark circles. Vico grabbed his cane from the passenger seat and slid out.

If anything was clear, he stuck out. The area was a little outside the more urban parts of the city. It was green and homey and he-- Well. Brushing the wrinkles from the shirt he wore, he peeked at his reflection in the maserati's window and wondered if pink leopard print was too much. He debated for a moment on zippering up his leather jacket and decided it really didn't matter. One hand in his pocket, the other on his cane, he moved toward the open garage doors.

Vi peeked in and hummed, his eyes moving over the tools and parts scattered around the place. After three weeks of bouncing between shop to shop, the metal clutter and thick scent of grease and gas almost felt comfortable. Lifting his cane, he used it to knock on the frame and cleared his throat. "...Anyone around?"

@purposefully-lost

[missymurphy1985]

The Writer (part eight)

Warning - angst / kidnapping / character death

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch

"Y/n.... Y/n wake up..." A woman's voice dragged you from the darkness. You were in bed. Thomas's bed. A tight grip on your hand and something gentle stroking your face.

"A shot..."

"Yes. But you're fine."

"I got shot?"

"No y/n, the shock made you pass out."

"Tommy?"

"I'm here. I'm fine."

Your eyes opened to find it was his hand holding yours, and his other one stroking your face. You smiled at him and his smile in return made your heart jump.

"What happened? Is Charlie safe?"

"He's in his room with Finn playing with his train set.

"Thank god... Lucille..."

"Dead. She didn't know I was right behind her with a pistol at her neck," Polly smirked. The relief flooded through you. Pulling yourself up slowly, with Tommy's help, he sat next to you on the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Gave me quite a fright. I didn't see Polly either, I just heard the shot and you go down - " he held you tighter as you relaxed into his embrace.

"I thought you'd been shot... I was so scared!" The door to the room opened and little Charlie ran in, standing at the foot of the bed. The boy was the image of his mother, but with Tommy's piercing blue eyes.

"Charlie, I'd like you to meet someone very special," Tommy patted the space in front of him and the boy climbed up, sitting in front of you. You held out a hand and he took it gently.

"Charlie, my name is y/n. I'm so happy you're home and safe!"

"Daddy saved me," the three year old gave you a big grin making you smile.

"Yes he did. Can I come and see your train set Charlie? I used to love trains when I was little?"

"Yes!!" He pulled your arm to drag you out of bed and you dutifully complied, allowing the little boy to lead you to his room. Thomas chuckled watching you, warning Charlie to be careful with you as you were still delicate.

You sat playing trains with Charlie for most of the morning - making small villages with his toys.

You could see his eyes growing sleepy, and right on cue Tommy appeared with a cup of warm milk, scooping his drowsy son into his arms. Charlie drank the milk and settled on his Dad's shoulder, happily being rocked to sleep. Your heart melted watching them - the love Tommy had for this small boy so clear in his eyes as he held him close. Small kisses to the top of his head, humming an old Romani song you recognised from long ago when Polly would sing it to Finn as a baby. Within minutes, Charlie was asleep, and Tommy placed him gently in his bed with another kiss to his head. He kneeled next to him, stroking his face and whispering words you couldn't quite make out. You slowly tiptoed out of the room to give them a moment together, and headed down the stairs where Polly was fixing some lunch.

"Polly, where's Frances?" You asked.

"She.. she was in the house y/n, but we'd got there too late. She was already dead when we arrived, her heart gave out from the stress of it all. She wasn't involved. We put the husband through his own personal hell before we took his eyes, he told us she'd been forced to collect Charlie and take him to the hall. Her family had been threatened with torture if she hasn't. Poor woman had no choice."

"Oh Frances... Tommy must be devastated..."

"He's experienced more loss in his life than anyone should have, love. Which is why I have to say this... If you don't feel the same as he feels for you, you need to walk away now y/n. He can't handle another heartbreak, it'll kill him."

"Polly, the things I feel for that man can't be put into words.. he makes me feel alive. Like I'm walking on air when he's with me. I feel so free, and happy. Like I can take the world on as long as he's by my side. It feels comfortable, like being at home."

"Very similar to how he described you, actually," she smiled and gave you a hug. "About time you joined the family, although I was sure it would be John, not Thomas!"

"No, he only had eyes for Martha and I only had eyes for Jack. Until.."

"Everyone is allowed to move on Y/n. Jack wouldn't want you to be unhappy forever, would he?" You shook your head, swallowing back the tears. As much as you were falling in love with Tommy, there would always be a place in your heart for Jack.

The rest of the day was spent playing with Charlie. Tommy was reluctant at first, he didn't know what to do and was thinking about paperwork he needed to complete, but the way you and Charlie looked at him through puppy dog eyes had him beat. Charlie loved the new attention from his father, showing him all of his toys. You ended up in the garden that evening, taking a walk around the grounds and letting him explore.

"Thank you." Tommy smiled, his arm over your shoulder.

"For what?"

"For this. For showing me there's more to life than paperwork."

"Charlie just needs you. Not the toys or the fancy clothes, he needs his Dad."

"I guess I didn't know how - Grace always took care of this side of it. Then Frances.."

"I know - listen, my flatmate is looking for work. She's amazing with children. Why don't I talk to her, see if she'll come help with Charlie while you're working?"

"Can she be trusted?"

"She's marrying my brother, and I've known her since we were babies."

"Then yes." You smiled and turned to Charlie who was fascinated with the flowers.

"What do you think Charlie, can we run faster than Daddy?" You laughed, hoisting the boy onto your back and pointing to a tree the other side of the garden. Tommy smirked at you, taking his jacket off.

"Not a chance!" He laughed.

"Daddy old - too slow!" Charlie giggled behind you.

"Sounds like a challenge to me, boy," Tommy smirked before setting off in a sprint. You quickly ran as fast as you could, Charlie's laughter spurring you on.

"We win!!!" Charlie laughed as you easily reached the tree first, even with Tommy's cheating head start.

"It would appear your Dad is too old for this!" Tommy laughed, laying down to catch his breath. Charlie's hands reached for him, and you placed him on top of Tommy's chest. He quickly nuzzled into him, his eyes growing heavy. You watched the two of them for a few minutes, your heart felt like it would explode.

"Come on little man, let's get you to bed eh?" Tommy sat up gently, lifting his son into his arms. The three of you headed back to Arrow House.

Once Charlie was in bed asleep, he joined you in the sitting room. You already had the whiskey and two glasses ready.

"I hope you don't mind, I wasn't planning on going home?" You smiled, pouring two glasses.

"I thought you said you already were home?"

"You listening into my conversations Thomas?"

"Did you mean what you said?"

"Every word. Want me to show you exactly how much I meant it?"

He sat next to you on the sofa and shook his head.

"I'm going to show you how much I meant it when I told Polly the same thing. Brace yourself, y/n. You're in for a very long evening."

[angstyaches]

Space

From 🍄 anon after I basically begged for angsty requests:

hello flick, if you want to write hunger with little to no comfort,,,,, consider this,,,, shayne,,,, not letting himself eat back when he still lived with madeline and watson,,, and not telling charlie,,, because he doesn’t want to worry him,,,,

This is closer to a whump fic than a hurt/comfort fic, so be warned. Also, just a reminder, these OCs are 19-20ish at the time. Shayne gets a little comfort, just not the right kind.

CW: emotional whump, disordered eating, low self-esteem, hunger with pain and affecting cognitive function, little/no comfort, psychological abuse.

___

He woke for what seemed like the fiftieth time that night, groaning as he took in the appearance of his room. He sluggishly rolled over, frowning in the direction of the little clock that sat on top of his set of drawers.

5:35am. An acceptable time to give up on sleep.

He sat up slowly, trying to gauge how much he could move without making himself dizzy. He rubbed his eyes, the stray ends of sleep disappearing and leaving a stabbing pain in the pit of his stomach. He pressed a hand over the pain, frowning when he felt his stomach rumble under his palm.

Maybe that’s what had been keeping him from sleeping.

Are you hungry, Shayne?

A shiver ripped up his spine. He stood up, shaking his head to chase out the phantom voice; he couldn’t deal with the Madelyn in his head, especially not while she was also in the house with him.

He tried to remember what he’d eaten recently. He’d been shaky after school yesterday, and he’d tried to eat a cup of instant noodles, but he’d only managed a few mouthfuls before starting to feel nauseous, and the cup had ended up in the bin along with most of its contents. Before that, he’d had a granola bar for breakfast, and before that –

No, wait, the granola bar hadn’t been yesterday. It’d been the day before that. It was definitely that week, for sure…

He swallowed, wondering if he should have breakfast today. It was always a gamble; he never knew when Watson or Madelyn would expect him to work, and it was always much messier and more painful when he had food in his system.

Not to mention that food always came with a side helping of judgment in this house.

He took his time getting ready, though there was little to relish about the morning. He crossed the dark hallway to the bathroom, took his usual lukewarm shower and brushed his teeth, towel-dried his hair, put on the grey-and-navy uniform that would keep him relatively invisible for most of the day.

In this house, though, it was impossible to stay invisible.

Madelyn was in the hallway as he made his way downstairs with his backpack. His stomach dropped, her gaze making the hairs on his forearms prickle. He quickly tugged his sleeves down from his elbows to hide the goosebumps that sprung up.

“Morning, Mads.”

“Good morning,” she snapped, eyeing him up and down as he stood, silent, on the last step, gripping the handrail. She had piercing amber eyes and dark, silky hair that fell to her waist when loose. That morning, she’d twisted it into an elaborate structure at the nape of her neck.

Shayne shrugged his backpack a little higher on his shoulder. “Do… Do you need me for anything?”

She scoffed at that, eyes turning away from him. “If it were possible to prove yourself useful this morning, don’t you think I would have already informed you?”

He nodded. “Sure. Sorry.”

“Could you tell me what time you’ll be home after school today?”

Shayne swallowed, only hesitating for a second. “Five o’clock. As soon as the bus gets in…”

“You have no… plans?”

He shook his head. There was no way he’d let Charlie rope him into hanging out at the Mulberry house, not while he was feeling so weak and drained. Even worse, he’d probably be offered dinner if he showed up there.

At just the vague thought of food, his stomach shifted and let off a low growl. He quickly crossed his arms, shuffling his feet and clearing his throat at the same time. With her heightened senses, Madelyn surely heard it, but she didn’t react beyond narrowing her glare.

“Nothing?” she asked. “We’ve seen so little of you recently.”

Shayne shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Do you need me for something then?”

“Full of questions this morning, hmm?” Madelyn shook her head and took a step towards the kitchen. “Just be home when you say you’re going to be home. Otherwise, you know… I’ll have to send Watson out to find you again.”

A chill rolled down Shayne’s back as he watched her step out of his way. It was vague, but it was a threat, not just to him, but to Charlie and his parents. He bit into his cheek, hot streaks of anger flashing through his head and tightening the muscles in his chest.

Madelyn raised her eyebrows. She didn’t quite gesture towards the front door, but it felt like an instruction to leave. He stormed past her and out the front door, letting it slam behind himself in what instantly felt like the pettiest form of rebellion ever.

He spun around and lifted both his middle fingers towards the door; Madelyn had several supernatural abilities, but seeing through doors wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck you,” he mouthed silently, with enough force that he might as well have screamed it. He took several steps backwards before he turned to face the road, proceeding like a zombie beneath the rain-dampened trees.

His hands felt funny. He lifted them slightly and frowned when he found he couldn’t hold them steady. He crossed his arms over his chest and held himself, taking gulps of air into his lungs to try to calm himself.

But even when he managed to tame the fiery, hateful anger, he was still shaking. The centre of his stomach ached as waves of hunger weaved back and forth inside of him. As the rusted sign for the bus stop came into view, its edges seemed to blur, and the road tipped to the side.

Shayne freed one hand from under his own arm and pressed it to his mouth, wondering for a second if he was going to be sick. Instead, it was just a shallow burp that rolled up, churning his stomach and making it growl violently.

“Mm. Fuck,” he whispered to himself. He glanced down the empty road, checking that the bus wasn’t arriving just yet. He held a hand over his stomach, pushing against it and rubbing harshly, hoping to coax the growls out before he was surrounded by other students. He realised he’d forgotten to fill his water bottle before leaving the house, so he couldn’t even get some liquid into his stomach to shut it up. He’d need to remember to go to the water fountain before his first class.

As the bus crested the hill, he shoved his hands in his pockets, staring down at the ground. He always wondered what he looked like to the students looking out the bus windows. He’d never figured out how to hold himself in a way that seemed natural.

The bus driver didn’t even bother to look at him, which was normal. Shayne glared at a first-year student who was staring at him while whispering something to his friend. He was used to hearing himself being talked about, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. He already hated that he took up physical space; he could barely stand the idea that he also took up residence in people’s minds.

He walked until he reached the seat where Charlie was sitting, staring down at some loose sheets covered in notes while wearing in-ear headphones. He looked up after a few seconds, breaking into an easy smile.

Fuck. That smile. It usually pissed him off so much that he would just look away whenever it popped up on Charlie’s face, but for some reason, Shayne found it hard not to stare this morning.

“You want to sit?” Charlie asked, pulling out his headphones.

Shayne swallowed, unable to bring himself to nod. Charlie’s backpack was in the seat next to him. It would need to be moved if he was going to sit down.

You take up so much fucking space –

Without even waiting for an answer, Charlie pulled the backpack towards himself, propping it on his lap.

The hollow space inside of Shayne throbbed, ached.

You're like a black hole.

"Go ahead," Charlie urged him, nodding to the free seat.

Shayne swayed a bit, though he could pass it off as though the motion of the bus had caused it. He held in a groan and sat down next to Charlie. He shoved his backpack down between his feet. He was tempted to just let his head rest against the back of the seat in front of him. The bus had only been in motion for a few minutes, but he was already light-headed again.

A flutter of panic hit his chest as he realised Charlie had said something else, and he’d missed it.

“What?” he asked, slumping back in his seat.

“I said, ‘how are you?’” Charlie shrugged, still wearing that smile. “You okay?”

Shayne nodded briskly, glad that Charlie provided him with an adjective that he could lie and agree to. It saved him having to fabricate a lie himself.

“You?” he asked, feeling secure in the knowledge that anyone – including Charlie – could easily be distracted if they were coaxed into talking about themselves.

“Yeah, I’m…” Charlie sighed, glancing at his notes. “I’m half-dead this morning. Just hoping my coffee kicks in before second class, for the history test.”

As a fun kick to the ribs when he was already down, Shayne had forgotten about the test. He’d also likely forgotten every word of their history textbook. His found it hard to concentrate these days, and everything that passed in front of his face seemed to dissolve somewhere between his eyeballs and his brain.

“Hey, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fuck. Charlie had wasted no time in swinging the focus back towards Shayne.

Shayne felt his heart start to pound, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. He hated this. He wished he’d found somewhere else to sit. He missed the days when nobody gave a shit, nobody asked him questions like how he was or if he was feeling okay. He’d blacked out in art class the previous term, and nobody had even noticed; they’d all just assumed he’d put his head down to go to sleep.

And yet, Charlie… Charlie saw him.

He wondered what would happen if he told him the truth. If he said that he was scared and ashamed to eat anything, that he was so hungry his stomach hurt, that this was still so much better than the alternatives...

Shayne glared at the back of the seat in front of him, hating himself for even considering burdening Charlie with all of that. Charlie was staring, still waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t exactly look worried yet. One advantage of being a miserable bastard was that Shayne didn’t have to put up an exhausting, cheerful façade.

“Kind of tired,” he said finally.

“Okay." Charlie frowned. "Well, I’m going to read over my notes a few more times, but if you’re really tired, I’ve been told my shoulder makes a good pillow.”

Shayne blinked with genuine incomprehension. The words didn’t stick in his brain long enough for him to dissect them; all he could really focus on was trying to breathe in time with the hunger pangs fluctuating in his stomach. He could usually keep it relatively quiet that way, but being this close to Charlie was making him even more anxious than usual.

“What?” he mumbled.

Charlie’s eyelashes fluttered as he broke into another smile, his gaze flicking away from Shayne’s. “Um, you can sleep on my shoulder, if you want.”

Shayne scoffed under his breath.

“Or don’t,” Charlie laughed, turning his attention towards his notes. “Whatever.”

Shayne’s gaze wandered towards the paper in Charlie’s hands, skimming over the headings that he’d jotted down in his annoyingly pretty handwriting. The topics sounded vaguely familiar, like he remembered them from a movie he hadn’t watched since he was a toddler. Like he’d last heard them from the other side of a thick veil.

His stomach pinched, and he realised he was hugging his waist again in an attempt to ease the pain and muffle any unwanted noise. He swallowed harshly, glancing from Charlie’s notes to Charlie’s shoulder and remembering his offer.

It was so silly. And yet Shayne wriggled a little closer.

The fabric of Charlie’s jacket was cool, unpleasantly so, against his cheek at first, but he quickly got over it. His head instantly felt better, supported by something solid instead of trying to follow the turns of the bus. Shayne inhaled deeply as his stomach squeezed and his shoulders tensed against the pain. A low grumble began to surface, soft enough that he covered it up with a sigh.

“I know I sound like a broken record,” Charlie said, startling Shayne a bit, since he’d thought he’d gone back to revising. “But… you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“I’m fine,” Shayne said. The words felt like shards in his throat. He didn’t know – wouldn’t realise for a while yet – why it was getting more and more difficult to bring himself to lie to Charlie.

Charlie nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Shayne closed his eyes and continued taking deep, delicate breaths.