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a-killer-obsession · 4 months ago

Note

Hiii !! Can I request Killer + somnophilia for the event that you're doing? And also wanted to say that I loooove your writing 💗💗 I hope you have a great day!

Combining a couple of requests that I think work well together!

Panty Raid

Prompt: Masturbation + Somnophilia

Additional Tags: afab reader, no reader pronouns used, panty kink, killer is a perver, dub-con, potentially read as non-con but it works out in the end, fingering, p in v sex, cum in panties

WC: 2.4k

Event Masterlist

Killer's obsession with your undergarments started in a totally innocent manner. A lost bet over a bad hand of cards had him doing your laundry for a month, a bet you never would have made with half the crew, knowing how perverted most of them could be. You thought Killer was more mature than that, but you should have known better than to tempt a grown man when it had been so many weeks since the last island, and most of the crew was in desperate need of a sexual outlet. The first few loads of laundry were done with little fuss, your dirty clothes disappearing from your room and reappearing the next day in neatly folded piles on your bed, freshly washed and dried. Killer had even ironed some of your items, the ones that tended to wrinkle in the wash. It was an extra step you appreciated, but it didn't surprise you; Killer had always been one for details.

It wasn't until the third load of laundry that Killer's more depraved thoughts began to win out. He knew you wore lacey panties, he'd seen them plenty of times before during sparring and in brisk winds, you were someone who was unashamed of your body, like most of the Kid Pirates, and you couldn't care less who saw your panties. The first time he'd seen your dirty panties in your laundry, he'd been quick to throw them in the machine. The second time, he hesitated, looking over his shoulder for prying eyes before holding them up to look at delicate garment better, imagining how they looked on you. He'd spent the next several hours with a half hard cock, much to his own shame. But the third time, that was when something really switched in his brain.

He looked over his shoulder to check he was alone before holding up the panties. They were a pale blue, the crotch still slightly damp, only recently removed. You hadn't even thought about Killer seeing them when you threw them in the laundry basket after touching yourself, not at all considering that they would still be a little damp when he found them. He ran his thumb over the damp spot, feeling the slick discharge still sitting on the fabric, his dick twitching as he realised what he was looking at. Without a second thought he brought the fabric to his face, pushing his mask up a little to press the panties to his nose, stifling a groan as he smelt your sweet arousal still on them. He shoved the panties in his pocket and hurried to load the rest of your laundry into the machine, switching it on and fleeing to his bedroom before the bulge in his pants became obvious to anyone.

As soon as the door was shut and locked he was unfastening his pants, tearing off his mask and throwing it to the floor as he collapsed on his back on the bed, bouncing a little as he landed. He pulled your panties from his pocket as he started to fist himself, bringing the panties to his face and taking deep inhales of your scent, letting himself groan out loud now that he was in private. Precum leaked from his cock, and he gathered it with his fingertips, and spreading it down his shaft to use as lubricant as his pumped his cock hard and fast, imagining you were sitting on his face so he could smell your sweet scent straight from the source.

Needing more stimulation, he shifted your panties to his cock, wrapping the fabric around his shaft and rubbing it up and down, his precum soaking into the fabric and making the satin slippery. His other hand travelled up, running under his shirt and tugging at his sensitive nipples. His hips bucked, fucking up into his hand, enjoying the texture of your panties against his erection. His other hand travelled down again, tracing over his stomach and running over his thighs, the coil in his abdomen pulling tight. He grabbed his balls and fondled them, putting himself over the edge, moaning your name as he spilled out over his fist and ruined your pretty panties with his cum.

Post nut clarity hit him like a truck as he looked down at your ruined garment still wrapped around his cock, accidentally torn from the pressure he'd put it under, and he flopped back against the bed with a guilt ridden groan. Later he would tell you the machine had chewed the pair up so he'd thrown them out, deciding it was less suspicious to be up front about it rather than wait for you to realise the panties were missing, and you would accept his excuse without question.

The next washing load he was more careful with your panties, making sure to not tear them as he fucked himself with the fabric before cleaning them and returning them with the rest of your laundry, no hint at all that he'd done anything untoward with them. He felt dirty, but it'd become an addiction, and he found himself smelling each pair he encountered, pocketing whichever was the most fragrant. Sometimes he even pocketed two at a time - one to smell, and one to fuck. Every time he finished he felt disgusted with himself, but he couldn't help seeking that rush again, knowing full well he was doing something wrong. It only served to turn him on more, especially when he'd cum over your panties, only to see you wearing the same pair a few days later when you sparred on the deck.

It was a particularly sweltering day on the Victoria Punk, with scalding temperatures as the ship travelled towards a hot summer island. With no cool wind to bring down your temperature, you'd retreated to your room as soon as your chores were done, stripping down to your underwear and promptly falling asleep on top of your bedding, spread out like a sweaty starfish. At this point, Killer never knocked before entering your room, he came and went often as he grabbed and returned your laundry. You had a wordless agreement, and usually you weren't even in there, since he usually came during the middle of the day while everyone was doing chores. He was surprised to find you in your room today, as he entered with an armful of ironed and folded clothing, even more surprised to find you face down in nothing but a pair of navy panties.

Killer felt all of his blood rush directly to his cock, putting down your pile of clothing carefully on your dresser. He knew for a fact that you were a heavy sleeper; much like Kid, you could probably sleep through a buster call if it came to it, and you'd absolutely slept through entire naval battles in the past. He knew he should turn around and leave, but his cock simply wouldn't let him, and he was feeling so pent up that he couldn't bring himself to deny his throbbing erection. Slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, he unzipped his jeans, lowering them just enough to free his erection. He bit down on his lip as he wrapped his hand around his cock, pumping it slowly as he admired your round ass and thick thighs, laying so deliciously on your bed, so close he could touch you if he wanted. He shouldn't though, he shouldn't touch you. Oh fuck he wanted to touch you.

His hand moved like it had a mind of his own, hesitantly breezing over your thigh. He held his breath as he waited for you to react, releasing the breath when you didn't even twitch and letting his palm rest fully against your skin. He stroked your bare thigh tenderly, precum leaking from his cock as his hand slid towards the inner side and ran close to your centre, his thumb breezing over the lace trim that ran over the round of your ass. His hand moved to your ass cheek, giving an experimental grope, fingertips sliding under the hem of the panties and playing with the fabric.

Feeling bold, his hand slid further down. Your legs were already spread so beautifully for him because of the heat, so it was easy for him to trace his hand down under the fabric, brushing over your folds. You shuffled in your sleep slightly, but made no sign that you were waking, so he pushed his luck further. He couldn't contain his moan as his fingers slid between your folds and found you wet, slick coating his fingertips. He gathered as much of it as he could, switching hands so he could spread your juices over his shaft to use as lubricant, mixing it with his precum as he pumped himself slowly. His thumb ran over the outside of your panties, pressing the fabric into your folds as he pushed against your clit. You made a soft moan in your sleep and his cock twitched in response, feeling how your panties got slicker as your arousal began to soak through the thin fabric.

His fingers slipped underneath again, and this time he couldn't help but take it further. At this point if you woke up there was no saving himself, no excuse could cover his ass with the way he was jerking off and touching you. He was already breaking the boundaries of what was right and wrong, so he decided to go all in. His finger slid inside you easily, making you whine in your sleep as he pumped you slowly, trying not to wake you. His second finger slipped in just as easily, begging to stretch you out. The idea that he was inside you without your knowing was making his cock weep as he fisted himself, biting back moans as your gummy walls fluttered around his digits. He pulled them out carefully, sliding his fingers under his mask and whining as they entered his mouth, sucking your slick from his fingers and tasting your sweet arousal coating his tongue. He entirely removed his pants and shoes and slowly slid onto the bed, trying not to shift you as the mattress moved under his weight. He knelt between your legs, groaning to himself as he pressed his cock against the grove of your ass, shivering at the feel of your smooth panties against his hard shaft.

He slipped his cock under your panties, rubbing his cock between your folds, soaking his shaft with your arousal and feeling the head of his cock butting against your panties with each short thrust. You made soft moans in your sleep, your legs spreading a little further. He was sure you would wake up soon, so he took one final risk, pulling your panties to the side and lining himself up with your entrance. The thick tip of his cock slid in easily, and he made shallow thrusts as his hands came to rest either side of your waist, biting his lip hard enough to break skin as he struggled to not just push all the way in and fuck you silly. Slowly he slid further in, trying his best to keep his sounds muffled as your pussy sucked him in, but as his base met your ass he couldn't help himself, making a deep groan that was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Killer froze as you started to wake, your face nuzzling against the pillow as you laid it on its side, eyes fluttering open and blinking at him as you saw him hovering over you with the one eye that could see him.

“Kil?” You asked sleepily, not quite awake enough to register what was happening. Killer was balls deep in your cunt, and said nothing as he struggled to find an excuse for his actions. Your hips rolled on their own as your body registered your fullness, making a confused, breathy moan as you realised he was inside you. “K-Kil… fuck.”

You rolled your hips more purposely, fuck he felt so big inside you, filling you so well, and he whined under his mask as you started fucking yourself on his cock. “Ohhhh fuck,” you groaned. You were just as pent up as he was, and his cock felt so fucking good inside you. You should have been mad, but Killer was fucking hot, and you felt unbelievably turned on that he'd taken advantage of you. “Fuck me, please.” you whined.

Killer didn't hesitate for a moment, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming it back in and knocking the air out of you. You clawed at the pillow as he grabbed your hips and made harsh, fast movements, grunting and cursing under his breath at each thrust, “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Killer growled as he used your body, grabbing handfuls of your ass and using them as anchor points as he fucked you mercilessly. It didn't take long for his rough treatment to pull your coil tight, your orgasm bubbling over as your cunt squeezed him tight, soaking your panties and making him throw back his head and groan as he got close. He pulled out, pulling your panties back over his shaft and grinding against your cunt, and you felt the hot flood of fluid as he came against your pussy, making your panties sticky with it as he pulled away and snapped the fabric back into place. He collapsed against your back, his helmet nice and cold against your bare skin as he panted, his hands apologetically running up the sides of your torso and touching you tenderly.

“Sorry,” he said softly, stricken with guilt, “I didn't… I didn't mean to. You were just so fucking sexy I couldn't help it. Do you hate me?”

“Killer, baby,” you sighed, “if you wanted to fuck me, you should have just asked.”

“Huh?!” He startled, “you would have let me?”

“Absolutely, are you kidding me?” You laughed, “have you seen yourself? Use me like a fucking cocksleeve whenever you want. You're fucking lucky I'm into you though, or you'd be fucking dead right now.”

“Sorry…” he apologised again, “can I make it up to you?”

“You're doing my laundry for a year,” you huffed.

“DEAL!” Killer replied, perhaps a little too quickly.

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Taglist: @daydreamer-in-training @chairmanraph @florcxo @luvnisstuff @nocturnalrorobin @fanaticsnail

#one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #AKO 250 event #killer x reader #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer

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onyourhyuck · 2 years ago

Text

GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK

— Prologue: “Excuse me waiter?”

— Summary: You’re a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.

— Genre: Smut, smut smut. Minors DNI. Badboy biker!marklee. Waiter!y/n. Lots of degrading terms as well as praising (we lot a degradation + praise moment) Public sex. Literally they do it on his freaking BIKE. Hairpulling. Teasing. Y/n is a big fucking tease. Playful banter. Enemies to ???. Y/n is made to humble Mark Lee. Mark calls Y/n Good girl. Y/n has a hand kink. Mentions of rings/jewellery. Mark is a massive ass guy here. Groping. Spitting on her ass. Ass play. Male receiving head. Mark literally grabs y/n’s face and made her to submission.

— Notes: Mark’s song Golden Hour inspired me by this…. I will write an apology for this filth you’re about to witness.

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You are a hard working woman, you love your work. You believe nothing comes easy in life so it’s useful to have hard shell around you to protect you from all sorts of evil this world has to offer. You don’t have the patience or the time to be wasting on useless things that do not serve you, your mind has always been set on this certain job you’ve been working on for a year nearly. You ended up loving it so much.

At first you weren’t sure if this job was the path you wanted to take but now you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You couldn’t careless if this job wasn’t going to pay you more than you needed in the next following years because as long as you are happy enjoying it; you thought screw it. This job may seem like a temporary waste but to you it was a long term source of your happiness and so many memories.

You’ve met good customers, some customers weren’t just as pleasant but nonetheless everyone you meet in this diner was a blessing in disguise.

Your coworkers were as equally happy to have you join them and light up this diner making it your own home. They wouldn’t change it for the world, you formed bonds no one could ever replace in your heart. To the point your boss was kind enough to promote you to head waitress diner and have made arrangements to have your own personal keys to the diner. So everytime you have yourself a night shift you can close down anytime you are done.

Your colleagues were glad to have you around the diner because without you many of them wouldn’t be able to get out there. Once a coworker you know couldn’t make it to the shift because of their blind date, you without any consideration stepped up and said you will take it. No matter how busy you are the diner comes first to you.

On this day you were opening the diner letting the customers in view come inside. It wasn’t busy and it was rather quiet in the morning. You couldn’t really tell what it was you’re feeling when it’s just you in the diner. No one else arrived and you were the first one.

You brush the broom on the floor sweeping the marble flooring the large diner owns, you hum a longing melody to yourself quietly as the empty diner leaves you waiting for anyone to come in, anticipating your colleagues and more. But the moment the front bell rang on the door making you swing your back straight to look at the front a gang of bikers pull up at the front entrance with their roaring lioness engines.

Wearing black and leather made up of straight skinned people, bandanas on the hairline or the beads — some wearing boots so heavy it made your own body shudder by the weight they are pulling on the feet itself. Streak of blonde hair entering the restaurant, wearing a brown leather jacket, a loose cast white shirt, the hair ruffled up and styled so lavishly it made him reek of trouble. You could smell it from miles away and it certainly wasn’t a pleasant fried egg smell it was a rotten roast of trouble smoking behind the young man.

It’s as if everything in the diner went dark and more silence came out than before even though it was only you in that diner. Somehow his company made you even more stunned. You don’t remember seeing him round here often enough because you remember everyone of your customers. You try to at least, and you’re more than sure that this man who strut in to your diner you’d remember a face like his.

Putting the broomstick on the wall you wipe your hands on the diner apron you have wore everyday your shift starts. Walking over to the table where that young blonde man with his obvious dyed hair and piercing cold eyes sat. Holding the menu in his hands you reopen you small notepad and take out an ink black pen.

You smile out. “Hello sir what will you be having today?” You say as if you weren’t saying this to everyone in your shift.

The young man hums out looking at you. “I have not decided just yet.” He was rather picky on which egg he wants today. You see, Mark loves his eggs a certain way. They have to be perfect and matching to the needs and cravings he has for a certain period of time. Unlike in your sight.

You tap your feet on the ground slightly staring him down after twenty minutes standing there. Mark kept his fingers gracing them on the menu at each egg point still not able to pick a damn meal. You slit your teeth together.

His fingers raided with diamond rings on them blink to the reflection of the light coming out the diner window could blind your almond doeish eyes. The way his hands were taking their dear sweet time reading every word, you couldn’t help but observe the size of his fingers and the beautiful flashy rings; you hated how your thoughts got unholy the moment his eyes saw your intense gaze at his fingers but he didn’t mention it. You wait at the counter staring him down into disbelief.

‘God I hope he didn’t see me staring at his hands.’ You wanted to mentally pray he didn’t. You told yourself to pretend like nothing has happened.

You’re back to being filled with annoyance to see more minutes passing by and the customer up front not choosing yet.

You love this job, okay, you really do. But you hate indecisive customers the fucking most.

‘Just pick something everything is eggs. What’s so hard about picking an egg.’ You wanted to scream to him, scream and tell him to get on with it. Eggs are eggs. They’re not much different to taste until you pick the seasonings.

“Are you here to eat or are you here to piss around causing trouble here?” You seethe gently trying to come out as passive aggressive. You don’t want to be rude but this boy was really tearing your patience apart from you. I mean, look at Mark. The young man came out lavish dressed just to look down at the diner menu and not pick a single thing over the next thirty minutes.

Mark flaunts at you with a wide smirk. “I dunno that depends on your answer.”

Your eyebrows rose up confused together, arching down like an innocent aisle. He couldn’t lie but he loved the way your reactions were so easy to read, he could tell he was annoying you and that’s exactly what he wanted to do. You cross your arms questioning that he might of came here with a higher purpose than to just eat eggs at your diner.

“What are you on about?” You ask out loud.

“What’s your name sweet lips?” Mark’s words echo right at you like a radioactive bomb flaming your skin open melting it like it were pure wax. You stare impatiently, clenching your jaw together. “It’s Y/n.”

Until you calm down your nerves you loosen up and reply unbothered, or you pretend to be. You won’t give him the attention. It’s clear he was flirting his way into your head and you can’t get away from it without putting on a professional fake smile. “Call me when you’re ready to eat.” You turn around walking away to clean more of the diner.

Mark’s eyes land on your back and down to your ass in that uniform the diner made all the coworkers dress in. He slants in the chair whistling as his eyes land on your legs, the thighs that touch each other, he loves seeing the way your thighs were both thick and soft looking. It reminds him of bedsheets in a way with how soft looking and clean they look. And your ass, don’t forget the way he could see it peeking out of that skirt. It was hard not to check you out. Actually it would be rude not to check you out, you look amazing. Your face card never declined in fact Mark saw you round the diner before but he never came to eat at this place he only saw you from afar. But everytime his biker gang and him rode in the street outside the diner, the boys mention you.

They speak often about you. It made him curious why they are talking so much about a young girl who’s just a simple diner girl, but now it all makes sense why they are talking. Why they’re discussing you of all people.

You were strong headed, professional, you were clearly smart enough not to fall for his lousy flirting skills he has to work on. But not only that it’s the way you were physically looking like straight out of a movie. Your body was indescribable. The way clothes made Mark frustrated on you, he never hated clothes so much before until now.

He shouldn’t be thinking these things but he was and unfortunately it was all your fault because you saw him checking you out in the corner of your eye, you knew and you saw it, it just left you smirking behind that innocent professional mask face you have on. In reality you were equally peeking interest at Mark when you saw a glimpse of his eyes stare at your ass.

But you didn’t want to show it. Of course you did not this is your workplace. You wouldn’t want someone as arrogant as Mark Lee to have the thing he wants so easily.

For once Mark looks like he actually wants something that is not eggs. He wants you.

“Excuse me waiter?”

Midway your work duties you hear the young man calling you over and you finally reach him with your impatient gaze. He loved seeing you worked up hearing him call you and somehow it made him want to sing to you. He looks up pushing the menu down. “Sunny side up.” Mark quotes proudly.

“Make the yolk in the middle right. I like it half cooked.”

‘God just make it yourself then.’ You wanted to say to him. Usually you’d be happy with suggestions, but not when a guy like Mark trouts in like he owns the freaking place.

You wanted to roll your eyes and tell him ‘Well now that wasn’t so hard was it to choose off the menu?’ But you hold your tongue tight and write it down. You gaze up at him.

“Do you want any drink with that? Toast?” You trail and Mark smirks leaning forward. “Is your number perhaps on those lists to serve?”

Your heart might escape your chest if he keeps on pestering you with his flirtatious tactics, you aren’t sure what you can and cannot handle but this beautiful man was a creature you couldn’t tame. Oh no, he was a wild one.

Your lips fell in a thin line. Your feet move forward and lean down in a ninety degree angle to grab the menu off his table with a slam to your palm. Mark’s eyes land down to your eyes, then to your beautiful pink chapped lips with a soft lipgloss glowingly and then his infatuated eyes land on the cleavage of your uniform.

His stare was so hungry. But something tells you it wasn’t for the eggs.

“One more flirtation and i will personally charge you more on your meal.” You threat.

He smiles, delusion all the way. “Was that a threat or a dare?” He couldn’t take you anymore seriously, but the way you push him back. He somehow knew you wanted him too.

You walk away scoffing. “Fuck around and find out. The more money for me.” You shrug going to the counter to prepare the food.

The sizzling from where you stand handling the heat was an impressive sight to say the least, Mark couldn’t make eggs, but he loves eating them. Despite not being able to make them it’s okay, because he never goes hungry thanks you and your diner. It was cheap and affordable for a high quality egg food you could munch on any time of the day and week. Somehow he never gets tired of it.

But what he was curious about was you. When you prepared the egg he saw you walk with his plate putting it on the table. But as you walk away and he starts to dig into the food, something underneath the plate moved and he flipped it open lifting it up. As the plate was lifting in the air a small white paper note curled up was found.

The plate was on the side and Mark slowly reveals it curiously wondering what was this, but as he did all the things he could’ve imagined were incorrect. Your handwriting struck him and it gave him a lingering hope.

The paper said your number, underneath a little message making Mark want to laugh.

‘You’re paying extra five on your order for my number :)’

He turns to look at you in front of the cashier station but you were already staring at him looking so smug. Your smile increased widely and his did too. ‘So you were interested, you just didn’t want me to know. God, you’re interesting.’ Mark practically vows. You’re unpredictable but you were something he wants to know.

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The afternoon hits you and your coworkers trade the shifts. Your work has just ended but the moment it did one of your colleagues asked to to take her night shift.

You should have said no but you did not and instead you stayed behind watching everyone leave. Your boss told you to close up and you nodded bidding goodbye to them.

Now you’re alone and it’s getting darker outside. In fact it’s already quite pitch black and the stars are coming out alive and well.

You turn to the clock seeing the customer timings going by and closing so you walk to the door to turn the customer open board around to ‘closing hours now’ but the moment you did a hand on the door makes you jump.

He saw you scream holding your mouth but the moment realistically seeing Mark outside asking you to open the door made you feel slightly uneasy but you were glad to see the boy at the same time.

‘Geez he didn’t have to appear in like that.’ You swore he’s the death of you.

You felt embarrassed for becoming so jumpy. You open the door and Mark walks in. “Did i scare you out there?” Mark chuckles and you look away murmuring.

“I thought you were someone trying to break in.” You roll your eyes. “You never know what can happen in these areas.”

Mark follows you from behind as you welcome him into the empty diner leaving only you two. “Ay you won’t have to worry about that Y/n my darling, no one will break in with me here.”

Mark couldn’t help but check down your ass again as you turn around walking from the door. His playful voice carries in the distance of the diner like a tracking star. “Did anyone tell you that the diner uniform is hot on you?”

“You make me barf, Lee.” You scowl.

“You make me wanna do bad things Y/n.” He copies you.

‘He’s so childish.’ You state in disbelief.

“Do you always come in to bother me when no one else is around?” You sigh putting the cloth away on the counter and his torso leans on the cashier counter. He saw you behind leaning down with a righteous smirk.

“You haven’t kicked me out yet I must be doing something right here.” Mark really knows how to trick your buttons.

You clench your hands huffing. “The only thing you make me wanna do is wish i haven’t seen you tonight.”

Mark whistles. “God you’re so mean.”

You glare. “If you think I’m mean wait until you hear my thoughts.” You sent through your teeth at Mark and he smirks, no matter how much arguments you guys go through they tend to always end on a different note with him smiling and you becoming grumpy.

The conversation ended only to begin when the younger boy was busy watching you do your night shift duties. You were almost glad he was here in a way, it does her creepy at night when you’re the only worker here and only one person is closing down. It can get lonely and way too quiet for your liking. Mark is the perfect guy to keep around if you need a person who doesn’t know how to shut up.

He playfully adds. “I wanted to see you because i was nearby.”

You couldn’t believe him sometimes, but a small part of you wishes it was the truth coming out his mouth. Somehow this boy you only met this morning annoyed you, but he was damnly devilishly handsome no doubt attractive and he somehow got your number too.

You look down breaking away your hold eye contact, clearing your throat as you felt a sudden butterfly coming up your lips all the way from your stomach. “Don’t lie. You came here to annoy me isn’t that right. The Mark Lee i know only does it in for himself.”

He tilts his head grabbing a hold of your hand. “Well why don’t you come and get to know the real Mark Lee, Y/n?”

You twist your head at your hands touching it made your skin crawl eloquently as so calmly like the sea. Your eyes slowly began to walk towards his face. When mark saw your attention on him again, he spoke, even though your silence was deeply inside finishing him he wanted to try.

“What’s the real Mark Lee like?”

“I think you and the real Mark Lee, would get along quite well.”

Mark’s eyes look so pure in that moment you felt your heart pull on the heartstrings and you happen to find yourself choosing to be and go.

To try to persuade you to come with him. It made you think that maybe it’s not a bad idea to get to know Mark.

“How about we go see the Golden Hour together after your night shift ends?” Mark asked you,

And to his luck you were pretty convinced. Mark’s hands were attaching to yours, like a lock to a key. It felt right being held in his hands.

“Okay, take me with you.”

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On this night the natural black hugs the stars as a diner closes ending its peace and heading to sleep but only leaving to souls to find each other awake. You couldn’t help but dangle the keys to the diner, closing the door, making sure everything was perfect before you leave with Mark. The boy was patiently waiting for you in the front of the motor bicycle; his bike was an all black with two black helmets on the side in his two palms. He was watching you in that cute little diner uniform with heart eyes but you didn’t notice. You were too busy.

When you were satisfied you turn around and saw Mark smiling you down. You raise your eyebrows suspiciously, blurting out.

“What?” Your breathe was let out, approaching the bike now. Your eyes widen when the size of it was revealed and you can’t believe you’re going to be riding this now.

Mark turns around humming. “Oh nothing. This is yours.” He puts down his helmet and holding yours going towards you. You were stunned for a minute when two pair of hands put on the helmet for you on your head.

It felt like kindness has infected his pure heart with the love that you weren’t aware of yet. Mark freaking Lee was putting the helmet, strapping it down on your head without asking him to. At this point you weren’t sure what to say but his eyes saw your throat clench in surprise and your eyes widen a little on the front. He was up close with your heads nearing each other like cannon rounds because he wanted to strap the ends under the chin.

You murmur. “I could’ve done it myself you know…” mark looks up at you directly. “I know, I just wanted to do it for you.” He smiled and you saw him pull away like it was nothing.

He was the ace at everything. Mark lee had everything he could ever want but what he didn’t want before changed the minute he’s met you and now you’re everything he wants, needs and could possibly ask for for. You were someone he could speak to all day and feel as if you weren’t judging him you were listening instead on repeat. You don’t even have to talk because he could do the talking; instead you Will be listening to him with those beautiful robes your eyes provide and he will be happy. He wishes to see you smile again, and he’s going through changes he never expected from your presence. Such as helping you put the helmet on.

You approach the bike getting on. The helmet he has on covers most of his face but his voice was still the sameness kindness that attacks your hard solid heart you guard your heart with.

Mark looks down at his waist where he needed to see your hands and your hands were clinging on the leather jacket. Your hands were tempted to hold him there but your thoughts intervened making you pause and in panic you couldn’t bring yourself to hold him there.

“Hold me tight Y/n.” He says.

You were shy. “W…where? I am holding you tight.”

He chuckles a little bit wasn’t expecting it that your fingertips touching was considered ‘holding tight’ but nonetheless he pulled your wrists from behind suddenly and making you lean your chest on his back enough so your arms were wrapped on his waist like two red ribbons making a single knot together.

“No wrap it like this Y/n. Okay?” He softly spoke out and you couldn’t even comprehend the words were made with intention to have you safe.

You wondered if it just you or if it’s many people who see this side of him where Mark doesn’t have to keep an image around like a toy with a job constantly. Where he could just be Mark Lee. You wonder thinking perhaps not, because a guy like Mark Lee was trying to keep up to his reputation but around you it was getting no where near to impossible.

Your chin rests on his shoulders and the engine roars like a wild animal awakening. It terrified you but normally you would never get on this thing in your life, but now you’re not normal. You’re hanging out with Mark the guy who walked into your diner in the morning, made you annoyed but you found relatively attractive, ended up successfully getting your number and on a good note he waited for your night shift to take you somewhere else.

The man rumbled in the iron horse between his legs, and the miles sped away beneath its black wheels. He grinned despite himself through the shiny all jet black helmet as the wind whipped about it, and gave an unconscious squeeze to the lever on the great y-shaped rudder, coaxing yet more power from the magnificent machine. Ahead, in the distance, she spied the spires of the road, leaving the diner. Give him nothing but a straight up motorbike ride down the road right down to the sea, with a beautiful girl like you on it holding him tight because he could sense how terrifying it must be until the sight of the ocean hits your eyes you start to see the beauty of riding a rising bike everywhere, and he would ask for nothing more in this life or the next.

You see it was scary at first. Doing something completely new but you found yourself falling in love with how the nightfall beach looks like as the young man driving the bike slowly because he wanted to have you see it for longer. Or the beautiful breeze hitting your legs exposed and vast bits of your neck because your long hair was exposed to the wind flowing it back like a flag of a nation you’d be proud of. You felt surreal and it started to show that perhaps the driver riding you wasn’t a bad person but made up by your poor misjudgement instead. Your pride rather and he was simply an okay guy — actually not even an okay guy. He was just a straight up sweet guy underneath those needless reputation and hard tough persona. It made you conflicted at first before but now you’re convinced. That you might believe Mark’s got a side you haven’t met yet.

But that’s the story to living your life. You have to explore a new thing to be able to know if you like it or not and I guess it applies to Mark and You. You squeeze your arms round his waist and suddenly rest your head on his back as you listen to the quiet earth where everyone was asleep but you and Mark — listening to the wind that the wind blows from the front and you swore you could sleep to this tranquil silence and feeling.

He seethes out a smile feeling the arms tighten and he was happening to feeling a sense of proudness in him as he could make you enjoy this. From a severe anxious young waitress to a young woman enjoying the experience he couldn’t of been more happier than this. Than live in the moment with you.

He never lets anyone ride the motorcycle with him and you were the first woman and person itself to be able to go on. Even though he denies everyone he lets and offered you to go on. Even the previous woman he shown slight attention to in the past never had the chance because he flat out rejected the idea of anyone being on this thing. It was a precious item he holds dear to his heart and something within him accepted you to get on.

Treading to the secret location you’ve been waiting to know about you pull up to a mountain cliff sight area where the bike stops on the shoreline of the mountain. Not off the edge but close enough leaving you and Mark on the bike sitting at around five am. Mark lee was one of a kind man and when you tell yourself the view didn’t leave you gaping it left you gasping instead.

It was beyond anything you’ve ever seen. It was a whole different view of the city and you could see everything all at once. The glimpse of the beach was there in sight, the diner was somewhere around there, you could see the apartment blocks nearby which is where you live too. You were so far but everything you love dear to your heart was close in your eyes. All at once too. Mark truly knew this place would be the perfect fit for your bonding experience, or rather he would claim it as a date doing nothing but chatting with you.

Your helmets were off and he saw your moving gaze lovingly watching the beautiful scene. He smiles your arms never left his waist until you unlock them to get up and takes a closer look.

“Mark… when did you find this place. It’s beautiful. It’s anything I’ve ever wanted to see before.” Your voice itself was hyperbolic and hypnotising. You look thrilled and it was benevolently beautiful loudly.

He follows you standing on the edge of his bike and wrapping the helmets on the sides of the wheel where they hang. “Once I was driving one night and I happen to see this. I often come here when i can’t sleep so i go for a ride and come here.”

You turn around with crystal like eyes, they looked like pure gemstones with how shiny they are and even in the pure darkness they glow.

“Thank you. It’s very sweet of you to share this view with me.” You sigh out and let your arms roam the free air twirling around.

Mark grins out. “Any time. You’re the first person ever I’ve shown this too. So keep this a secret between us.” He told you. “I’d like it to be only you who knows of this place with me.”

The moment he said this your cheeks grew a little red and turning round to meet eyes with his personally grew stronger. There was a define element of possession here and you couldn’t help but let out a strain laugh hearing him.

You come forward slowly. “How come you’re so… nice to me? I mean how can i ever repay you for this. We only just met but you’re quite an enigma. You keep surprising me with your new sides.” Your voice trails softly easing your thoughts when his hands wrapped round your waist pulling you closer and seemingly you didn’t back or make any complaint you just stayed and following his strong hands where they push you in on his body closing your large gap that was punishing him by making you so far away.

His deep voice I’ve craved to answer me had a way of igniting my internal engine, just like he would light up a motorbike as if it knew I wanted to ride with him before I had a chance to process. “I don’t know I guess i… like you enough to say that I’d be raw and real with you.” He sounds husky and hoarse looking down with a dark half eye lid gaze. You couldn’t help but feel that maybe the tension between you was a sign call for help.

“How many have you been raw and real with like this?”

“None.” He quickly said. “Just you.” He told you softly It was the kind of deep voice that is so very easy to fall in love with, it was like a perfect harmony between cooking you have.

“You’re someone who’s… a first to my everything. My bike is off limits for everyone except me but here we are. You were sitting on my bike so nicely with that…” your ass was squeezed surprisingly you by that gentle yet hidden pleasing laying grope on your back.

Your face grew red but he knew that. It’s exactly why he did it and smirking down at you, you felt yourself feeling small and cautiously exposed but in a way you found butterflies in it.

He needed you just as bad and now you’re here needing him. He was real with you and that’s what made you shudder when you feel your heart escape your chest so much. All because of him and everything he does was a terror of attractiveness. He was breathing and you found his breathe even more beautiful. He was just there standing and breathing looking you up and down with an intense stare.

And you’re here trying to figure out what and how was this man created into existence. He felt like something you knew for years and years in your head and at the same time something you’ve never known in your life for years and years until now.

“Are you always this…” you stop talking and stare down at his lips. “Never mind… kiss me please… I’m going insane.” You held your teeth together for a minute until he was glad to hear you consent because God knew, he couldn’t stop you from kissing once he began tasting your lips.

It was a very easy decision to make when Mark saw the offer you made him, your lips crash on top of each other like a gentle road on a wheel. It was a smooth transition. It felt heavenly however. You couldn’t compare any feeling of Mark’s lips the way they made you feel so complete in many ways, it was a sensual passionate makeout between them leaving the air round them to be sucked in faster. Your breathes were doing magic together, compiling as one source keeping your fast bodies going somewhere.

The makeout was a speedy and intense success knowing your chest was thumping probably so freaking hard but you weren’t focusing on that. You were focusing on the way his tongue intrudes in your territory so freely and with ease across your tongue wrapping round it keeping you guessing what’s happening next. Your bodies swung around switching positions with Mark no longer slanting on his bike and you now pressed against the machine. Your back resting on the bike leaving you climbing on it where your hands were wrapping up and down his clothes chest and the neckline.

Your hair was pushed back because his hands were crawling down your legs caressing them and softly rubbing the softness of your thighs in that skirt that’s been driving him mad the entire day.

He couldn’t wait to just strip it fucking off your body you had no idea how much he’s been imagining it to the point his imagination couldn’t save him from holding back anymore. You were equally eager it seems though when your tips pinch the belt on his jeans he found himself growing exciting in the shares of your kiss.

His voice pulls you away and your mouth crawls to his jawline and on the sides, you lick down his Adam’s apple. “A bit impatient are we? You’re looking at me with so much impatience.” He felt so many shivers with your teeth grazing his skin so much it drove him right off the edge.

You bring your swollen red lips apart. He swore he saw fire in those awoken eyes of yours. You pull him on the bike and you swap positions once more where you suddenly go on your knees pulling down the trousers.

“You can’t blame me being impatient when you’re looking at me like that…” your words slant themselves and he chuckles deeply hearing this. When his pants fell down your eyes gawk at the sight of his rock hard member in the front your hands couldn’t hold back, you touch it instantly and he vows down at you going. “I’ve been here impatient a little longer than you darling. Why don’t you be a good girl and help me out and i promise — you will get a good reward.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Your saliva spits down on his erected cock and he could just twitch by the warmth of your shared saliva from your intense makeout a minute ago. His head swung back when you first take him in very softly by doing small kitten licks and eventually engulf him into a welcoming home of your inner mouth where your scorching tongue felt like million pieces burning. Somehow that burn became something enticing and thrilling though because even though it was so intense it became more intense that you get addicted. And that’s exactly what Mark went through.

Your mouth was an extraordinary thing and It certainly wasn’t the only thing it was good at. He watches you with a dark lingering gaze that could be darker than the night sky above you both. You fell in love with how he watches you, intensely with his eye locks on you sucking him in so deeply. Making sure every length and part of him was in your mouth. Your deep throating gave him enough time to clench the bike a few times and once even made him groan out a little louder than a few hisses there and then.

“That’s my girl. You’re doing such a good job.” His hands grazed your hair sweeping it up and gently holding it into a ponytail in his hands between the diamond rings that blight you. You felt your stomach turn hearing this and pull apart your lips to make a pop and only to go and suck him in again which leaves him expediting a whole new feeling in the world. You were throating him so hard, it could bruise your mouth but you could not care.

You wanted it to leave a mark. You wanted this to remind you of this experience that you’re doing in the wide open slot.

Mark grunts. “Shitshitshit, careful. I don’t want to cum just yet.” He said pulling your head apart from his cock that was twitching and begging to have a release of its own but Mark had other plans for you and him. As your head was thrown back with a rug to your hair in that ponytail he scraped the remaining drool around your mouth with his thumb.

You swore you could’ve melted on your knees if you weren’t on them already because it was unbelievably sexy watching a man like Mark touch your swollen and reddish lips all from sucking him near to dry and kissing him like it was the end of the world looking you down and gently wiping it clean, with his thumb. You could lose your mind. This man was effortlessly attractive. He was like a whole package to uncover.

Suddenly a pair of fingers have been crossed in your mouth and you didn’t fight back at it as Mark leers down at you. “Suck on them darling.” And you did just as he told you to sucking his fingers until he pulled it away from your lips coating them with your thick and warm saliva.

Your positions switch again this time you’re on the bike again forced to be seated on it with your legs wide open and spread ready for Mark who was leaving you impatient. The skirt was lifted up leaving your white panties exposed and he looks up at you, smirking. You could feel a slight warmth on your face growing again and not only that, once his fingers press on your clit through the panties lining all he could see was a soaking mess.

He was amazed, by this huge effort he has on you. “Y/n I wasn’t aware you’d be this wet i haven’t even touched you yet. ” He leans closer and you turn away avoiding his gaze as you stutter out. “I- can we…get to the fun part.” You mention and he lets out a smile leering it back at you. “Oh trust me love it’s coming.”

You weren’t a fan of his teasing but you couldn’t help but feel mesmerised when he slid down your panties to the side and an accidental touch on his metallic diamond rings makes you twist and turn your head back in a pleasuring awe. At first Mark thought it might’ve been his fingers but when he realised it was his rings he couldn’t smirk at the thought he had. The fingers coating by your saliva pushing deep in your waterfall of a cunt only to have the big diamond rings digging in too much. You choke out your words, but he wanted you to shout to the rest of your lungs till you couldn’t speak anymore tomorrow for your next shift.

Worst thing was that you’ve been imagining this all day since the morning you’ve met Mark. You were creating scenarios with his hands all along and which is why you’re so wet. It was sexual frustration but at the same time, you felt rewarded by this. Mark knew all along you wanted him just as much as he wanted you but of course you tried to hide it by being professional — now answer this where did all the professionalism go? He wanted to laugh but he wanted to see you lose yourself before he does.

Your eyes were obsessed by watching his hands go so deep into your hole that you wanted to see how much you will come. You were pressing at your deep end soon, you could sense a few strings in your stomach boiling for a release you were so close.

Mark mockingly adds. “This is what you wanted all along isn’t it? I saw the way you were checking my hands in the morning. You wanted them to do stuff like this to you.” He looks at your exposed cunt in the public domain with wind cushing at you and you weakly murmur your groans. “Maybe you wanted my fingers to do this?” His thumb pressed down on your clit moving it in circular motion. While his other fingers were occupied by your insides pulling it inside more and more.

The overstimulation did you great because the next minute Mark was welcoming a wave of gushing liquid running down your thighs and into his lap where you shockingly gasp out your high moans on your releasing resort. He was so proud of himself and of you for taking everything he gave you but that didn’t stop him from suddenly roughly slamming you down into the seat more and slinging his erected tip and length to your entrance, you weren’t given enough time but when he kissed you to lead you into him and to focus on to him and not your large orgasm; you couldn’t help but feel calmer and allow the burning stretch of his big girth cock entering you. Your body clench tightly but he massaged down your waist and hips when he feels the urge to your body to clutch.

“That’s right baby taking me so well. Now turn around and press your stomach flat on the bike.” You couldn’t help but turn around and you felt him go even more than before deep working you from head to toe making you squelch with how wet and lubricant everything you had. Mark was insane for just making you press hard on your back so your stomach was flatly on the metallic machine and leaving you on your arms supporting by your elbows.

He wants you to see the view as you’re getting your brains fucked out hopefully you’ll remember everything. He has no doubts you will because the minute the Golden Hour appears, your brain will be taking a photogenic picture in your memory engraved as you’re floating naked on his bike getting your shit wrecked by him. The first ram made you curse strings you weren’t expecting it to make you shake on the first try and go it’s as if he was exceedingly amazing to rock you back and forth in the middling position. Your body clenching underneath him letting your ass jiggle back and forth between the bodies. His weight was heavy on yours and he kept on ramming until he was satisfied with it.

The speed wasn’t slow at all. It was fast and hard. You weren’t sure what’s happening at one point you were lost in all the pleasure you lost your sense of time and presence as well as your self identity. You were going places with Mark Lee rucking against you so good his length tip touched the peek of your g spot making you come more than once, this man behind you fucking you made you come so many times it left you dripping out for everyone to see.

“If only you could take a look at you. You’re dripping on the grass and down my bike.” He roughly slits between his teeth, speaking in broken sentences.

You couldn’t help but grow embarrassed. But Mark loved it seeing you become so actively engaged in with him and his pleasure giving you whiplashes.

You’re in the public sector where people can come and go but since it’s this late you weren’t worrying but the thought of someone walking by at this time walking on you two made this everything ten times more arousing and thrilling for the both of you. You both enjoy being seen like this fucking like animals until you were stuffed and full of him and until you only can think about him, he won’t stop.

Mark bellows at you every time, he said all sorts of things but nothing crazier than him losing his mind to you. “I bet you want people to walk around us and see your dripping wet cunt getting stuffed with my fat cock. I bet you want them to see how much you’re soaking bending over my bike and getting slut out in the open shamelessly like this.”

His fingers tug on your hair lifting you up when the time has come suddenly swing your head upwards enough to leave you choking out your moans. “Now look up at this, beautiful. It’s the Golden Hour.” And your eyes widen seeing the magnificent skies.

The Golden Hour leads you like a tunnel into a whole new haven offering where the sunlight was waking up and so were the people around from the slumber. Your eyes welcome the Golden Hour, that iris of fire so pretty in its devotional image reminding you of the ocean waves but instead they were bright orange, mixing in with the beautiful ember red and the bright yellow equalling to the sun. It left you stunned for a minute and Mark saw your beautiful expression smiling at it. ‘It’s beautiful’ you thought.

He kissed your shoulders momentarily bringing you back and he thrusts deep within inside you again and again until your legs were physically turning into snapping bridges where no one could cross over again.

You cross out holding your mouth when voices in the distance has you questioning the whole presence you weren’t sure why people were waking up this early, but you’d effectively heard a man and a dog barking in the distance. Your moans were hidden into your mouth and Mark whispering chuckling at your attempt to hide them out.

But as much as you tried to hide and conceal your moans you could not thanks to Mark roughly punishing you with his cock growing deep in you. “Awh what’s this hiding your perfect noises you’re making? Darling let them see you so they know how perfect you are.” He gnaws at your brain leaving you helpless and you achingly whimper out.

He spanks your ass once more roughly and gropes it. He could never get tired of your ass for once more. “I’m going to come now.” His teeth clatter as he spoke out final words before grunting releasing bits of his come inside you but pulling out and covering your ass a little too. You ooze out and he couldn’t help but want to replay this image of you stuffed and oozing out him out of you was the hottest thing he could have witnessed.

You try to lift yourself up only to nearly fall backwards fixing your skirt but a figure behind you caught you and you make eye contact with him once more. Mark smirks down at you watching how your legs were shaking and he held your skirt get pulled down and your panties back up.

You couldn’t help but feel hopeless once more, murmuring. “I could’ve done it.” You say softly and he looks at you with eyes that resemble boba pearls.

“I know.” He leans down capturing your kiss softly, putting the belt around his trousers meanwhile he was lost on the feeling of you on his lips. “But I wanted to do it for you.”

“But i…”

He pulls away holding your face with his hands pulling you to face him when you were about to look away and disagree with him doing things for you. “No buts. How about we take a ride and see more of the Golden Hour and then…”

“And then?” Your eyes rose up waiting to hear an answer but Mark smirks shrugging. “And then you can stay over at my place and rest, how does that sound?”

You chuckle. “Okay sounds good to me, Mark.”

You feel yourself becoming part of him. This golden hour will forever hold a special place in your heart.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Please reblog and follow me for more updates it helps a girl out <3

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 10 months ago

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I have been wanting to binge some Xaden x you stories but there seems to be none! Thank you so much for writing Late Night Hours!! If you ever choose to write another one, would you consider a healer x Xaden?

-🖤🖤

So glad you enjoyed that story. I loved writing it. 🤍

My kind of girl

Was it an awful idea? Yes. Was it against all restrictions? Yes. Was this not at all how Xaden thought it would go? Hard yes. He didn’t even understand how it started. What brought it all on? He had visited many healers. Had been patched up by so many of them. He never given them any more attention that was needed. Done and forgotten afterward.

But that particular day most of the healers had been out on some sort of training. Spirits only knew what healers could train for but as if all odds were against Xaden, Garrick had a particular taste for blood that day and not even an hour into training, Xaden was clenching his wrist. The skin already blossoming with purple and reds.

“You should get that checked before you start crying”, Garrick chuckled, making Xaden growl, “Suck a bag off…”, “Manners”, Imogen chirped in, “We have a jar of coins remember? For every d and p that comes out of your filthy mouths”, she pointed a warning finger at the two males. “Mommy is mad”, Bodhi chuckled, earning a slap on the back of his head from Imogen.

So Xaden did go even if he was convinced that it was nothing. He still found himself rounding the corner to the healer's wing. Just the moment he kicked open the door his whole body suddenly stalled. It’s as if his brain shut off for a moment before it kicked start again at the sound of a book hitting the floor. The most beautiful eyes looked back at him. Xaden had seen a handful of pretty females. Had a pleasure to interact with them in more than one way but this. You. You made practically every single one of them look like average women.

“How can I help?”, you quickly bent moving to pick up the book. Your cheeks were already pink but that didn’t surprise Xaden, healers rarely left their wings. Rarely interacted with anyone but their patients. Xaden simply lifted his hand upward. He knew how it usually went. Most females clung to him. But you simply nodded, moving around the room and picking up different salves. “I will make sure you’ll be able to fly by the morning”, you muttered after sitting the rider down.

Oddly enough Xaden found himself unable to not look at you. He always liked his girls on the tough side. The more they snarled at him the more he was interested. Nothing was more attractive than riding leathers. But here he was mesmerized by the loose curls, a grayish gown, and even the colorful scarf tight around your head was beautiful to him.

“You’re new”, Xaden’s words were groggy because he had stayed silent for the past couple of hours. The tone was rather intimidating. But you didn’t flinch only blinked a bit faster. “Yeah…”, you muttered, “Only a couple of days here”. Your soft voice warmed parts of Xaden that had been ice cold for yours. He frowned not sure as to what was happening. “And you’re all alone here with only a couple of days of experience under your belt? I wouldn’t trust you to run this smoothly”, it came out more as an accusation than anything else. Making you pull back, “I can handle this. I can handle myself”, and oddly enough Xaden didn’t doubt that.

There was something different about you. Something way more intriguing. Something that caught Xaden’s attention. You also weren’t big on chatter. Nor did his broad shoulders seem to intimidate you much. You didn’t stop to hack at him and that rubbed Xaden in way that he hadn’t felt in a while. Your movements were calculated. As if it was second nature. Well, it very clearly was. It seemed like a dance. One practiced so many times that now it was easy to do it without being able to see. The same way fighting was for Xaden.

“If you won’t move it much today it will be good as new tomorrow”, you turned back, getting straight to cleaning your surroundings. “That’s it?”, Xaden questioned looking down at his bandaged wrist. One that felt perfect as it was now. But how did you manage to do it all so quickly? He usually sat here for ages while different girls fussed over him. “You want a kiss on the forehead too?”, you huffed, making the sides of Xaden’s lips curve upwards. “Do you offer that to everyone?”, he pushed on wanting to see just how far he could take this. “No, only to the ones who are as tall as they are stupid”, you crooked your head to the side, offering Xaden a mocking smile before continuing your way around the medical room.

“Ahh now that’s a low blow, baby girl”, Xaden gently caught your arm, turning you back to face him. Your eyes darted up to look at him. A look of surprise almost immediately replaced by annoyance, “You don’t scare me”. Yet your voice came out barely a whisper. You might not be a scared little girl but the guy in front of you sure was at least twice your size. A light shiver ran down your back. He could easily pick you up with one hand and just…

“Then why are you trembling?”, now it was him smirking once more. Satisfied that he managed to rile up a reaction from your body. But you swiftly pulled your arm out of his grasp, “I suggest you go, rider, before you find yourself unable to”, you pointed towards the door. Glad that there was some distance between you two because your heart was beating so fast you were convinced the male would be able to hear it drumming against your ribcage.

“Feisty little thing you are, huh”, Xaden whistled crossing his arms over his chest, “Unlucky for you, I like my girls prickly”. You lifted your head. Chin held high and fuck did Xaden’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of your delicate features shifting with that sheen of annoyance. “Unlucky for you I know at least forty-five ways to kill you and believe me you’re giving me ideas as we speak”, you nodded towards the door once more. Hoping that he didn’t see your crimson cheeks as he turned around. Xaden shook his head as he reached for the handle, chuckling under his breath. Chuckling… when was the last time he had chuckled? Maybe Garrick hit his head harder than Xaden initially thought. The rider ran a hand over his face but right as he was about to close the door he halted, throwing you one last look, “That pink on your cheeks suits you, sweetheart”. He simply heard a gasp before a cloth was flying right at him but Xaden managed to close the door in time. Frustrating grumbling audible from within the room. He surprised another smile before his cold side clinched around his throat once more. What the fuck was he doing? And why did all of a sudden you felt like his kind of girl? One that he had to win over.

#🖤 anon #xaden riorson #xaden x reader #xaden riorson x reader #xaden imagine #xaden riorson imagine #xaden fourth wing x reader #xaden riorson fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x you #fourth wing x reader

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localcanadiancreature62 · 10 days ago

Text

BillfordWeek2024,Week 4 - What Could've Been

Buckle up chucklefucks,this is the last week of BillfordWeek2024 and y'alls have until the 25th to finish your entries. Kiddingg,it doesn't matter if you get them done like two or three days after loll i just wanted the event to have an official end. This is also my own written entry that i was supposed to make at the 19th whoopsss. @aria-greenhoodie @aaabatteryy @wind-tail @spaghettipal @cecilscribbles

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Title - In a different life,in a different time (hehe. a different form,a different time)

Ford is drinking coffee in his bedroom at night while he writes about his new findings regarding the existence of Jackalopes and the Boogeyman in his new Journal 4,sighing contentedly as he recalls capturing the antlered creatures with his niece and nephew without feeling any sort of dread or paranoia this time. "Finally. A moment to myself without having to deal with the portal Bill's tomfoolery and alll of that nonsense. It's just me,and my wonderful memories of my family. Nothing can ruin this blissful moment." Ford says to himself as he embraces the peace that the universe has finally given him,he then continues documenting his findings as he sketches the Jackalopes into the Journal. He then pours himself another cup of coffee straight from the brewing machine,sniffing the bitter beans as he then slowly slurps the beverage while enjoying the moment. Only for him to drop the cup after getting startled by the sudden ringing of the telephone on the table. He then scoffs in frustration after realizing what he had done as he then answers the phone to see who is calling him at this hour.

"Stanley i swear if this is another one of your prank calls-." Ford remarks as he thought it was his brother trying to contact him for another one of his dumb jokes,only for him to hear a familiar high-pitched shrill voice yell into the other line. "SIXER PLEASE LET COME OVER HERE! I NEED TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING!. MAYBE THIS'LL MAKE YOU GET BACK WITH ME!." Bill exclaims as he desperately screams into the Theraprism landline while Ford sighs in exasperation after realizing that this is the billionth time his triangular ex has called.

"Oh. It's you. Bill,how many times do i have to tell you that we're done?!. I don't need you in my life anymore,all you did was ruin it whenever you were around!." Ford shouts as he then roughly puts the phone back on the rotary in anger,only for him to hesitantly grab it back after realizing that the triangle won't hang up until he gets what he wants. "You're still there,aren't you?." Ford asks as he then hears the isosceles practically crushing the phone in excitement. "Yes. Please come over. I found something that'll finally convince you. I'm begging." Bill replied as the genius can hear the pathetic desperation oozing from his voice.

Ford then pinches the bridge of his nose as he tries to consider visiting his dumb ex once more despite knowing that it'll end in them arguing again while the creature gets sent to solitary confinement for aggression,but part of him misses his muse and he remembers that they used to have such a great partnership before things soured between them. "Fine. I'll hear out your pathetic whining again. So much for a peaceful evening.." Ford says as he then hangs up,not allowing the triangle to excitedly ramble about how he's so happy that he's visiting again.

Bill then has the Axolotl prepare to teleport his genius to the Theraprism as Ford then puts his trenchcoat back as he then puts a laser gun into his pocket. As while the triangle won't be able to hurt him anymore,he can never be too careful and he figured that it'd be better to be safe than sorry especially regarding his volatile former muse who still has his powers albeit they're limited. The researcher then goes over outside as he waits for get himself transported to the glorified insane asylum that is the Theraprism,and he closes his eyes only to arrive at the asylum while eyeing the rows of prison phone cubicles before him. He then spots his former muse waving at him and urging him to come over. Ford then sighs as he walks over to the cubicle where the isosceles is.

"So what is it that you so desperately wanted to show me?." Ford questions while glaring at the triangle who's staring at him with an adoring eye only to snap out of it once the man calls his name. "You're so handsome- Wait huh?. Oh right. Check this out." Bill says as he then projects an alternate version of himself and Ford,where he appears to be human while his genius is like 80 years old via beaming up a holographic image of the other reality onto the glass wall of the cubicle. The holographic projection flashes images of the alternate Bill and Ford being so happy together,getting married having fun dates and even spending time with the rest of the Pines without any chaos or destruction caused by the triangle ruining everything. The og Ford has his mouth agape in shock over the projection,not expecting to see himself being so.. peaceful with his former muse albeit in a different reality. "Wh-Why are you showing me this?. Is this even real?,is this an actual alternate reality or are you tricking me again?." Ford remarks in confusion,only for the triangle to look at him distantly.

"It's real,i saw it with my own eye while sulking about the many realities where i succeeded in my plan but we're happy together in the end after some trial and error. I looked through a lot of different universes where we're happy to cope,but this one stood out. Look at this,look at the projection closely. This is what happens,when i actually talk about my issues and therapy works out and we make up instead of me pushing you away." Bill explains as he then started crying in guilt,big fat tears streaming from his eye.

"Look at what could've been,look at what happens to us when i actually deal with my dumb problems instead of ruining everything for myself like i always do." Bill says as he kept crying,the man wincing as he saw the isosceles cry while not knowing what to make of it as it could be another trick. "And you're telling me this,because?." Ford questions in annoyance despite also feeling bad about letting their relationship become so bitter.

"Because maybe we can be like them. Maybe we can make up and i can have the happy ending that alternate reality gave the other me. Where we're married and i actually get along with the rest of the Pines." Bill remarks while wiping off his own tears as the genius stares at him in disbelief. Ford then clutches the telephone as he watches the triangle keep holding onto the Theraprism landline while still projecting the image onto the wall. "I- Bill,i know you want us to get back together because you want to get out of this glorified asylum and for.. other reasons. But this is impossible with the current sluggish rate of your recovery. And i'm not even sure if this future scenario happens in our reality,for all we know this 'happy ending' that you speak of only takes place in that reality and you're destined to rot here for all of eternity." Ford says coldly as the isosceles gasps in shock over his reaction.

"Okay. If you want me to rot here,fine. Be that way. But i just want you to know,that you never stopped being my genius even after everything." Bill replied bitterly as the man ignores him and walks away from the prison phone cubicle. The triangle looks at his genius sadly as he watched him walk away but he knew it was for the best since all he has done is ruin him like Ford himself said.

'And you never stopped being my dear muse.. I wish we could make up too,but things have just gotten so difficult for us.' Ford thought to himself as he voices what he wanted to say to his own mind rather than his beloved muse whom a part of him still missed even with everything the isosceles had done to hurt him,he secretly yearned for the great partnership they used to have before the betrayal but he knows that he can't fix something that's been broken beyond repair.

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mysadcorner · 2 years ago

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I have a request (if you're still taking them) fem!reader x Jesse Pinkman fluff hcs, I love your writing so much 😍😍

Jesse Pinkman x Fem!Reader Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

Masterlist Navigation

• Straight away you can see how sweet Jesse is towards you, and he genuinely keeps this up for the entire relationship no matter how long. He isn’t given many personal chances in life, so the fact that you’ve taken a chance on him means that he wants to give you as much appreciation as he can.

• When you stay over at his place, or the other way around, he always tries to make you a decent breakfast or goes out pretty early so you have something to eat when you wake up. It’s one of the only reasons he gets out of bed, and if you drag him back into bed with you after eating you can expect him to happing stay there for many hours.

• Jesse follows you around when you’re shopping like a child. He’s pushing the trolley for you while you walk ahead and help him figure out how to actually buy proper meals and what he might need to make them. He isn’t really listening though, he’s in his own little bubble which means he’s watching you and just being happy that you’ve gone out with him to do this.

• Jesse would hardly ever forget an event such as your birthday or anniversary since they mean so much to him and he wants to show how much effort he puts into dedication towards you. He’s more so the kind of person to put a lot of effort and be overly prepared and then forget everything on the day because of how much build up there’s been until he sees what he’s done for you in the morning.

• Jesse doesn’t need long term commitment since he’s used to not having long relationships, but when he’s finally in a long term relationship with you he can clearly see what he’s been missing out on. He can’t image you ever leaving him, and if you ever do he probably wouldn’t know what to do anymore and would spiral.

• Jesse doesn’t need to go out partying to have a good time with you. Usually he wants to be along with you, especially when he’s been busy, so you’ll have a nice meal together and watch some movies you’ve been meaning to catch up on together as a way of having a nice night.

• Jesse is constantly doing little favours for you before you even need to ask him to, and some of them aren’t even that small. He’ll gladly go out of his way to buy something across town for you or will take you places. He’ll even help you with anything you could ever think of without ever needing to be asked.

• There are some things about Jesse that he makes you swear to not tell anyone, but these things only make him more adorable. Things like how cuddly he is, or the things you two do together while goofing around would seriously embarrass him if you told them to anyone he knew.

#jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #jesse pinkman x you #jesse pinkman x y/n #jesse pinkman headcanons #breaking bad #breaking bad x reader #breaking bad x y/n #breaking bad x you #breaking bad headcanons

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jacksdinonuggets · 3 months ago

Text

Separated

Summary: Carmilla tries to get Vaggie to go to Daycare but it doesn’t end up well.

featuring Permaregressor and Autistic Vaggie

Notes: I spent like 2 hours straight writing this because i didn't want to lose the motivation.

It was early in the morning and Carmilla was trying to get Vaggie to wake up. Today would be the permaregressed girl’s first day at daycare. Even though she was not happy with the idea of being away from her Mami for more than an hour, she reluctantly complied. It was mainly because Carmilla promised that if she didn’t like it, they would go out for ice cream.

However, waking up when the sun rose was pretty hard. Vaggie really wanted to go back to sleep and didn’t want to do their normal morning routine.

“Vaggie, come on, Bebe, it’s time to wake up,” Carmilla lightly shook Vaggie. The girl whined in response.

After many tries of waking her up, (Giving her a glass of water, turning the lights on, playing some music) she finally got out of bed.

“Alright, sweetie, before we get you changed, you can tell me how old you are?” The overlord asked. They did age checks every morning and whenever it seemed like Vaggie dropped in age. Even though she mainly stayed at 4 or 5, she could easily drop into babyspace. Dropping into babyspace was quite common for her, so it was important to do these checks to make sure she was prepared for the day.

“Four…” Vaggie mumbled.

“You think you can get ready without the changing table?” She asked. Vaggie nodded.

“But can ‘ou still help me?”

Carmilla smiled, “Of course, baby,”

After getting Vaggie changed into some overalls, a pullup (just in case), and her favorite socks and shoes, she started to do her hair. Usually, Vaggie would just have her hair down or on hot days, she would put it up in a pony tail. But today, Carmilla wanted to try something different to see if she would like it. She had braided her hair into two pigtails and had two red bows at the bottom. Vaggie gave her a thumbs up, saying that she liked it. It really made her look how she felt!

Once they got her backpack all ready with her communication cards, her paci, a diaper, her sippy cup, a few toys, her ear defenders and her lunch, Carmilla buckled Vaggie into her booster seat, before they started their drive to daycare.

Vaggie was still pretty sleepy so her anxiety wasn’t all that bad. Until they pulled up to the daycare.

When Vaggie stepped inside the colorful building, holding her Mami’s hand, she immediately got anxious. She could hear a bunch of other little’s running around and yelling and she started to whine, holding her stuffed koala tightly to her chest. The noise was a little bit overwhelming but she was a big girl! She could handle it. Hopefully.

“Don’t worry, Bebe, It will be okay. You’ll make lots of new friends. Can you give me a few deep breaths?” Carmilla squeezed her hand lightly to give reassurance. Vaggie nodded and took a few breaths, feeling a little bit better when she was done. Whenever Carmilla would notice she was getting a little anxious, she would squeeze her hand and help her with some breathing exercises.

Vaggie stayed really close to Carmilla the whole time she was checking her in, dreading the part where she would drop her off and leave. However, the time came too soon and Vaggie absolutely did NOT feel ready.

“Alright, sweetie, I have to go to my meeting now. I love you,” She gave Vaggie a quick little kiss on her forehead.

Before she knew it, she was watching as her Mami walked out of the door.

One of the staff took Vaggie’s hand and guided her towards the playroom where everyone was. It was very colorful and full of littles running around. That made Vaggie very nervous. She hated crowds and loud noises. She desperately wanted to reach into her backpack and grab her paci and ear defenders, but then saw no one else was wearing them. She would be the only one having to wear them. What if it was seen as weird? Or none of the other kids wanted to play with her because she looked too sensitive? Or what if they sent her to the nursery with all the babies?

Vaggie made her decision. She would go sit in an isolated corner without her sensory accommodations and sit there until her Mami came back for her. Surely she wouldn’t leave her there. She would probably realize that she made a mistake and come back for her. Right?

As time passed (like 30 minutes) and Vaggie realized her Mami wasn’t coming back for her anytime soon, she started to feel herself drop. It wasn’t too bad, maybe like a year or two, but she was still a big kid! She wasn’t full on baby yet.

That didn’t stop her from crying a little bit into her koala plushy. The teachers were busy with some of the other littles that they didn’t even notice. However, someone, another little did.

“Hey, are you okay?” They crawled over to her. She looked tall, even while crawling. She had long blonde hair and red circles on her cheeks. She was wearing red overalls with a chew necklace hanging around her neck. It was in the shape of a shark tooth, which looked really cool!

Instead of doing what was right and telling her the truth, she nodded. The blonde didn’t really believe her but just shrugged.

“I’m Charlie! Wanna play with me? I have a couple of dolls we can play with?” Charlie pulled out a couple of calico critters. Vaggie used her breathing exercise and decided she would try to play while she waited for the day to end. She picked out the doll she wanted to play with and they started to play.

It was actually quite fun! They played with them for about an hour in that corner. It all started to go downhill when Charlie suggested they play house with them. She wanted to be the mama.

Just the words “mama” got her spiraling again. Her breathing started to get a bit ragged once she realized that she wasn’t with her Mami. Was Mami ever going to come back? Did she just drop her off, never to be seen again? What if she left her? She wanted cuddles from her. She wanted to be around her. She needed her Mami now.

“You..okay?” Charlie asked, putting down the dolls.

Everything seemed so loud now. There wasn’t anyone to protect her anymore. She was alone and vulnerable. Dropping even lower and faster, she backed up in her corner again, trying to find her Koala plush. It had a voice recording in it, maybe that would help her feel better? However, she looked but couldn’t find it. Then, she spotted a kid from the other side of the room playing with it. This just made her start to sob. Someone else was playing with HER special stuffy!

“Vaggie? Hey, it’s okay, what’s wrong?” Charlie tried to get closer to her.

“Wan M-Mami! W-wan Wally!” She cried. Wally was the name of her Koala plush.

“Who’s Wally?” Charlie asked.

Vaggie pointed to the little playing with her plush. Charlie luckily recognized the stuffed animal and knew that it was probably Wally. Knowing she couldn’t help with her wanting her Mami, she could at least help with getting her Wally back.

Charlie walked over to the kid and started to say something to him. They argued a little until Charlie started to walk back to the corner with Wally in her hands.

“I got him back for you,” Charlie said, handing her the plush. Vaggie snatched it and hugged it tightly, pressing the little recording button to play it. She really thought it would help.

However, Vaggie was wrong. Hearing her Mami’s voice made her want her even more. She needed to be near her. More ‘What if’s entered her brain and her anxiety started to rise even more. Sobs and wails escaped her throat, causing the teachers to be alerted. They crouched down to the small girl and tried to asked her what was wrong.

“Wan Mami!!” She screamed.

One of the teachers reached their hand out to her, trying to pop in a paci for her.

“Sorry, little one, But your Mami’s at work right now. Can you maybe try-”

CHOMP!

Vaggie had bitten down on their hand, hard. She didn’t want the teachers, she wanted Mami.

Finally, the teachers complied. One of them went to the front where the phone was, the one that was bitten went to the nurses station, and one of them stayed with Vaggie, making sure she didn’t hurt herself or any one else.

Charlie managed to help the teachers by comforting her new friend and asking a few questions. Vaggie ended up being in babyspace. Charlie wasn’t really sure how to help since she doesn’t know how to comfort a baby, but she did give her her ear defenders to provide some comfort.

Carmilla was in the middle of her meeting, talking with the overlords when she heard her hellphone ring. She cursed, forgetting to put it on silent. However, when she saw that the caller id was from the daycare, she immediately got worried. Did something happen to Vaggie? It’s only been about 2 hours since she dropped her off.

Her anxiety didn’t let her send it to voicemail.

“Excuse me, one moment, I really need to take this,” She excused herself from the meeting room. Clara and Odette looked a bit worried but they tried to continue on with the meeting.

“Hello?” Carmilla answered the phone once she was in the hallway.

“Ms. Carmine? There’s uhh, a situation here at the daycare. It seems like your daughter isn’t adjusting well and has slipped into her babyspace. We do have a nursery in the other room, but I’m afraid it wouldn’t be beneficial. If you could please come pick your daughter up soon, we can talk about this when you get here,”

Carmilla knew that if she were to say no and leave Vaggie there, all the trust she gained would be ruined.

“Alright, I’ll be there in about 10 minutes,” She said before hanging up.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I have to leave. My daughters will continue the meeting without me,” She told the group.

When she arrived at the daycare, the teachers brought Carmilla to the back of the playroom. She could hear Vaggie’s cries loud and clear. When she saw her baby, curled up in the corner, sobbing hard, she immediately regretted taking her to daycare.

“Hey, Bebe, it’s okay, Mami’s here,” She crouched down in front of her. Vaggie immediately jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly.

“D-d-dun w-weave me!” She cried into her shoulder.

“Shh, I’m not leaving you,” She lifted it up and put her paci into her mouth. She grabbed her backpack and started to carry her out of the building.

“Ms. Carmine… I don’t think your daughter is ready for daycare. We recommend getting her diagnosed as she seems to have some separation anxiety. Until you can get all that worked out, we don’t think she should be in daycare,” The teacher with a bandage around his hand told her. Judging by the bandage, Carmilla could tell what probably happened.

“I understand, I’ll make sure to get her diagnosed too. Have a good day and sorry about the injury,” Carmilla said before walking out.

The rest of the day, Vaggie was deep into babyspace. While she was napping, Carmilla made sure to book an appointment to get her diagnosed. She had been putting it off because she thought that maybe she was just a tiny bit attached. But what happened today was more than just being a bit attached.

But no matter what, Carmilla still loved her baby and would be willing to make accommodations for her if it was necessary.

#agere fanfic #agere writing #hazbin hotel agere #age regression #padded agere #hazbin hotel age regression #fandom agere #sfw littlespace #little space #little space fanfiction #little!vaggie #sfw diaper wearing #babyspace #baby regression #baby regressor #baby regressor vaggie

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qqueenofhades · 5 months ago

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Ok, unsolicited rant, I’m sorry in advance. I used to love reading when I was a kid, and read frequently and often. I read a lot and I read books that I wouldn’t be able to understand now, like Anna Karenina when I was 12 (I am a native Russian speaker so it’s not that impressive but still) and a lot of Thomas Mann when I was 17-18.

It’s all gone now. I became extremely picky, but also it seems to be harder for me to understand books now? Like I’ve been trying to read “demons”, “Oliver twist”, “Ulysses” - too hard, and I can’t concentrate and in case of demons there are so many ideas and historical tidbits that I have to sit with Wikipedia and a notebook. And yes, as a kid I would have checked certain things and be able to hold a connection in my memory without a notebook (although I’m not sure if I would have done that with demons in particular, I’m bad at Dostoevsky and hated “crime and punishment”). And it doesn’t matter whether I’m reading in Russian or in English. I almost got it with Arundhati Roy’s “the god of small things”, then there was a very upsetting and triggering scene and I had to put it down.

And if I try to get into something nicer and easier my picky side comes out and I just drop books one after the other. Murderbot diaries and the Locked tomb were the only two books series that captivated me in two years.

Anyway I miss that soothing state of being engrossed with a book. And I so rarely get it now! So I wanted to ask, do you maybe have some advice? I saw your book stack and felt both envy and fear, like I both wanted to read and didn’t. Yikes.

And also, I can still read fic and your fics got me through terrible time and soothed me! So thank you!!!

Aha well. I will say that my current monumental book stack is not technically the norm for me, though I do usually have 3-4 books on the hard-working bedside table and read for several hours every night. Said giant book stack was a confluence of factors (picking up a bunch of holds from the library after asking the people for book recommendations and then going to the bookstore yesterday and hilariously telling myself that I would only get one book max). So it's not like I have ginormous amounts of TBR at all times, and in that giant stack, there are likely to be several books that don't grab me, are not particularly interesting, or technically good and well-written but just not engaging with the Brain Gremlins at this particular point in time. So I will put them down and move onto the next one, and this will keep me from being bogged down, because why read if you're not enjoying it/yourself/the book? It's not a punishment or a character-building ordeal. It's supposed to be fun, and if you're reading things that, as noted in your ask, just aren't grabbing you and feel like a chore, then stop! Find something else that makes the Brain Gremlins go ooooh shiny, regardless of what it is. It doesn't have to be Fine Literature.

I also had to get back into the habit of reading for pleasure, and it took me time and effort to do it due to various external circumstances. From about 2015-19, while I was doing my PhD, I had less than no money and absolutely no spare brainpower, so while I did have a few books that I collected along the way, I barely did any reading for pleasure at all (though I did do a frankly alarming amount of writing, including fic writing). Looking back, that seems insane to me, but it was something that had to change step by step, and it wasn't as if I just finished the PhD and went straight back into pleasure reading. I moved back to the US in 2019 and had a part-time job at a bookstore, which was very dangerous for my minimum-wage paycheck, but it did get me back into the habit of looking at books and reading books and being able to take home advanced-reader copies for free and otherwise start exercising that muscle again. I didn't have a library as an option for quite a while because I was living in a tiny town, then COVID hit, then I moved to another tiny town, where there was at least finally a modest public library at my disposal. But it took time.

Now I live in a city with a great public library where I can get almost anything I want, and I went accordingly hog-wild, but if you don't have readily available reading resources, obviously it's hard to get your hands on stuff that you like and will make the brain gremlins go brrrr. There are some public libraries that offer cards/user privileges even to people who don't live in the geographical area, especially if you are a young adult. Check out Books Unbanned by the Brooklyn, Boston, Seattle, and San Diego (US) libraries, which aims to provide access to ebooks and other digital collection items for young adults facing challenges to access, regardless of where they live. You can get a card up to age 18 from San Diego, age 21 in Brooklyn, and up to 26 for Boston/Seattle.

I also now have a little more disposable income, so I can buy books if I want to, though it's true that I also bought books when I couldn't really afford them (shh). But it's still the fact of my access to a good public library that enables me to have stacks on stacks rotating through the bedside table, and I use it constantly, so there's that. I'm of course very glad to hear that you can still read fic and that you have enjoyed my stuff, but I do also feel that you have to read fic AND books/published writing/stuff that's not fic. So the best way to get back into the habit is by practicing, not forcing yourself into stuff that isn't fun or feels like a slog, and finding a place where you can consistently obtain other stuff that's good for sparking joy. That is not the case for everyone, it will impact what you are able to do, and you should not feel like you have to do some kind of "good" reading model, especially since a lot of people seem to think that what you read is directly representative of your intelligence, moral character, or some other important part of you, and it's not. Humans like stories, the end. We like being given stories, fiction or nonfiction, in a format that we can digest and understand, and we always have. It's that simple.

Basically, I feel like reading for pleasure should indeed be fun, I love reading for pleasure and encourage everyone to do more of it, I now am fortunate to be able to do it extensively, and it has taken work of various kinds to get to that point where I can in fact just set myself up with a ginormous stack and dive in. As noted, however, if any of the books currently on hand are boring or just not doing it for me, I will move onto the next one, because the fun thing is that there are always more. So yes. Go forth and read. Good luck.

#anonymous #ask

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obislittleone · 9 months ago

Text

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 12

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: this might be the saddest one... or maybe I'm delusional and it can only get worse from here. Anyways, death, canon typical violence, drowning, my sweet baby Lukas is trying his best as always... oh yeah a hUGE AMOUNT OF ANGST

Chapter Summary: This is the endgame, there are four tributes remaining. Who will live, and who will die? The choice has never been up to the tributes.

Word Count: 3.8k

my live action cinderella dress (movie accurate) is finally done so expect me to have a lot more editing time. I will also probably have more writing time so expect some endings to unfinished series.

“He had f-feelings for me?” Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth. “He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

You’d been silent. Not quiet, but absolutely silent. Lukas didn’t try to make you be anything else… but he did have to keep you moving. It wasn’t much later in the day, but the sun was already setting. The minimal amounts of light only being shown through the small openings of the tree canopy. It was harder to tell where you were going. Nothing looked the same as it did yesterday, or the day before. You could swear you’d walked through here to get to the stream, but the path had somewhat changed along the way.

As drowned in your thoughts as you’d been right after it happened, your entire body, including your brain, had been numbed to Rodey’s death. His blood was still on your hands. Figuratively and literally. You didn’t stare at it too long, forgetting to let your gaze linger on anything except the path ahead, and Lukas, who was three steps in front of you.

You both were half of the remaining tributes. It was a miracle you both had made it this far, but now that the numbers had dwindled, there were two other tributes left who were hunting the both of you. It was better to keep moving than to sit like a duck and let one of them take their victory.

The longer you went without finding the stream, your need for freshwater had grown exponentially. It was strange how the past few days it would rain for hours, but now that you actually needed water it ceased to exist… in a literal rainforest. That was the peak behavior of a game maker, to play sinisterly.

“We can stop here for now. Maybe if I can get up one of these trees I’ll be able to spot the stream again.”

You barely minded what he was saying, giving a small nod to at least show you heard him. You didn’t care much to speak anymore, not even to the person who you felt the most patience from. He was doing fine without the constant dialogue of the days before, and you knew he’d be fine without it till the end. He was going to win, there was no doubt in your mind. You’d thought that perhaps it could be him or Rodey, but Rodey died saving you. Now you would do the same for Lukas, whenever the situation finally came.

You sat down, back against a tree trunk and head dropped forward, eyes making an instant connection with the dried blood on your body. Even if you scrubbed at yourself for hours, there was no chance you could get rid of it all. You have the blood of two allies on your hands, now. That’s as many as you’re willing to have.

Lukas had set down his pack, starting to climb the roots and knots of the tree’s enormous base, when a tiny parachute descended straight towards him. You looked up when you heard the familiar sound it made, watching it fall into the boy’s hands.

“Head’s up,” he called, tossing you one of two canteens full of water. You took it gratefully, beginning to drink up as much as you could take.

Lukas smiled before looking down to the note included.

Talk to her for me, tell her it’s not her fault. - F

He sighed, trying to come up with any ideas on what he could possibly say. There’s no way to know if she’ll even be open to a conversation. There’s no indicator that she even wants to speak at all. But this is a sponsor that keeps them from having to exhaust their resources, and Finnick asked for something simple in return. He doesn’t understand why Finnick is so dead set on coddling you in this arena. It’s not like things are going to get any better from here. It’s an absolute fact that the time can only become worse, until everyone meets their end but one.

But against his logic, and against what his brain is telling him, his gut wants to follow his mentor’s instructions… So he does.

He sits beside you at the base of the tree, his own canteen in hand and his pack in the other.

“Listen, I know you don’t wanna talk about it,” he assumed, given the fact that you’ve literally said nothing since it happened. “But what happened, it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

You reasoned with the scene over in your head, and the only way it didn’t end the same way is if he didn’t choose to jump in front of you. It was hard to think about, because you feel responsible. He wouldn’t have jumped if you weren’t there. But if you weren’t there, she’d only have him to charge at. It all ends the same every time. He was faster than you, braver than you. He would have stepped time and again, and you couldn’t stop him.

“He s-saved me. It was f-for me.”

“I know.”

You closed your canteen and let it roll out of your hands and onto the ground next to you, curling your legs to your chest and trying to comfort yourself. You really didn’t want to talk about it, but if he was adamant for you to do so, it was going to be on your terms.

He seemed to be stumbling for more words, and only came across some having rambled a thought from his head.

“I wish he’d never told you…”

“T-told me what?”

He hadn’t caught onto the fact that you had no idea what he was talking about. So like a dumbass, he kept going.

“About his feelings for you. I told him a few days ago it could only hurt you. Then again I also told him it was a good idea so I guess we were both stupid,” his rambling of a response made your eyes widen in both shock and anger.

“He had f-feelings for me?”

Lukas was dumbfounded. The poor kid didn’t even get to tell you. He tried to speak, opened his mouth to do so, but froze upon not knowing what he could possibly say in response. Maybe just start with the truth.

“He did,” his head fell when the words finally escaped. “I’m sorry, he wanted to tell you.”

For some reason, this information didn’t hurt you as much as it should. Instead, it angered you. How could he possibly have been so stupid to sacrifice himself in the name of feelings for someone he’d only recently met? How could he have given up a possible win, just to show his devotion. Had it been an instinctual move of protection, you could have accepted it… but no.

“I s-should be dead r-right now. All these p-people around me, dropping l-like flies. And I’m still h-here.”

“Don’t say things like that. Look, I get it. You feel responsible…”

You nodded, because yes, you absolutely did. Your ally’s blood is on your hands, and no matter how many times you scrub it away, it will always be there.

“But I feel responsible for you. I’d rather it be any of them than you, understand?” He finished off, his look of seriousness piercing yours of confused emotion. Sadness, anger, guilt. Probably more, but you can’t identify them.

You nodded, but his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything it just made things worse. He was still trying to protect you, and you couldn’t stand losing one more ally. Especially not him. He had to be the one to make it out of here. You’d been thinking about it so much more the past several hours, now that only four remain. You’ve only gotten this far because of your allies, but now they are almost gone. It’s on the verge of every man for himself, but you know Lukas won’t let you die on your own. If it comes down to the two of you, you have every intention of throwing yourself from the top of a tree so he can go home. You don’t think you’ll survive the other two tributes, however.

“You’re g-going to win, y’know.”

He sighed, looking at the ground and shrugging. Maybe they are true, the things that you say. He just hopes they aren’t.

“I’m not so sure anymore. If I were a gambling man, I’d have to put money on you.”

“Well then it’s a g-good thing you don’t gamble,” you smiled, trying to expel every other feeling you had, and only hold onto one emotion at a time. The air was light, just around the two of you. Old friends, fighting for their lives, but they can still make the other smile, or laugh. It’s simply what friends can do.

Lukas hopes that he doesn’t leave this arena without you. He is praying to anyone that can hear his thoughts that if he watches you die, he’ll die too. It’s not like he has anything to go back to, anyway.

“Promise m-me something, for when you get h-home?” You asked, his curiosity piqued. “Promise me that you’ll take care of m-my family. My brother, make sure he d-doesn’t ever have his name in the bowl more than it h-has to be.”

He smiled. He hadn’t even thought about his own family, his mother. Probably because he didn’t consider her to be so, anymore.

“I promise, if I get out of here, I will.”

“T-thank you, Lukas.”

He leaned against you, his head resting on the tree while your own head was on his shoulder. You’d be perfectly content with dying if you could just drift away like this. Everything now was peaceful, and you’d left no stones unturned. Your family would be taken care of if Lukas lived, you know he’s good on his word. You know that having spoken with him, and even sitting here with him now, you will have resolved everything with him. There’s nothing else you need to know… except-

“Lukas?”

“Yeah?”

“W-why did you volunteer?”

He took a deep inhale beside you, then went stiff as the reasoning coursed through his mind. He could lie and say it was an impulsive mistake. He could come up with literally a million other things that would sound plausible for any kid on why they would do something so stupid. But he wasn’t any kid, and you weren’t just some bystander. You were his best friend. Either of you could die any moment, so he wanted to make sure you got nothing but the truth.

“The morning of the reaping, my mom and I had that argument,” he recalled. You nodded along, remembering the scene vividly. He hadn’t been himself until he’d gotten on a boat. The water always seemed to calm him down. “I’d been feeling better after work, but I went home to shower and get dressed.”

He stopped for a moment, his brow furrowing as he tried to bring it all back into recollection. The nasty look on his mother’s face, the way she swore at him and spewed her insanity. Thinking back to it now, him volunteering is just what she wanted. It would have been better to refuse volunteering out of spite.

“She told me I would never measure up to my father, and that there was no point in trying. When I asked her what she wanted from me, she told me she wished I had died in his place.”

Your hand immediately found his in a tight and reassuring grip when you heard this. It was just like his mother to go off and say some shit like that. Something that would scar him the rest of his life and force him to go immeasurable lengths, and for what?

“I told her I would volunteer if she wanted me dead so badly. She said I might as well, because it would be the only way to bring some pride back to our family. The sad thing is, I didn’t regret it until they called your name…”

“I’m s-so sorry,” you whispered to him, barely heard above the humming and buzzing of the rainforest. You clung to him, hoping that this could bring the smallest semblance of comfort in a place that exudes horror and danger. He clung right back to you, being still in your embrace as it was one of normalcy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to hug you, or look at you, or talk to you. Even simply being in your presence wasn’t something he was going to take for granted, because he knew that soon, he would never be able to again, whichever way it went.

The day continued on, and the sun was setting much faster than you would ever anticipate. Probably because it wasn’t a real sun, and any glimpse of normalcy was non-lasting. It couldn’t be, because there had to be reminders that this was not the wilderness, and you were not safe. You would die any second. There were only four tributes remaining. You could imagine that things were getting tense back in the capitol. You couldn’t imagine the kid from eleven had garnered much of a fan base with Lukas being the prized tribute this year. You doubted the girl from one was getting any special attention, either. Not that they needed it. Estelle was most definitely the most qualified remaining tribute, a career who has trained for this moment all her life… but still, you’re sure Lukas will win it from her.

While walking in the marshy rainforest, you’re quickly reminded how easily this game can end.

You hear a branch snap a bit down the trail behind you, and you freeze.

“Lukas…” you whisper, drawing the knife from your hip.

He heard another branch, and turned his head, the boy named Brock from eleven quickly approaching, with Estelle on his heels. Whether or not she was chasing him, no one could be sure, but they both had a determined look in their eye, and all it took was one word for you to bolt ahead like lightning.

“Run.”

The branches below you snapped in half, the pressure of your rapid footsteps was intense enough to squash any animal or snake that dared slither into your path.

You could hear Lukas’ hard breath intake, as he was passing you every few seconds, then trailing a step behind, only to look back and make sure they weren’t gaining too quickly… except for they were. This was going to end in a face off, whether you liked it or not. You couldn’t run forever, and it was just a matter of time. You were ready to die, and you would protect Lukas.

You tripped over your steps, holding your hand out to stop Lukas in his tracks before he fell.

Well, at least you’d found the waterfall. The only downside is, you were at the top of it, having run onto a ledge that was at least a thirty foot drop into deep waters, raging from the pressure of the falls. There was no way you were making that jump without drowning. You’d probably have a heart attack on the way down and die before hitting the water.

“W-what do we do?” You turned to your counterpart, and he whipped his head back at the two approaching tributes.

“We’ve gotcha, now!” Estelle could be heard shouting, the sound getting far too close for comfort. It was now evident that they had been teamed up on this effort. “Nowhere to run!”

Lukas yanked your arm, pulling you beside him.

“Do you trust me?” he asked sincerely, the look in his eyes made you scared, like he was thinking irrationally, and he was… but it was all he could come up with.

“Yes,” you nodded, but grabbed his hand which was still on your arm. “Lukas?”

He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t answer your call of his name. He didn’t even give you a second to understand what the hell he was about to do. He just did it.

Within a moment, gravity became your enemy, and you went flying backwards off the edge of the cliffside, arms and legs flailing as you screamed all the way down into the waters. You sucked in a quick breath before being fully submerged, hammered down by the constant onslaught of heavy water.

Lukas took off, running away while the others were distracted by your fall into the depths. He ran towards the forest again, trying to jump logs and dodge trees, anything that could make their path to him harder.

Brock was still looking over the edge, having been surprised by the play of events.

“Let’s go, we can’t let him get far,” Estelle pulled him by the shoulder, turning him to the rainforest patches again.

“What about the girl?”

Estelle scoffed, “We’ll hear a cannon in a few minutes, she can’t swim.”

And with that, they took off.

Immediately being in water, the panic set into your mind. You were clawing around, trying to make it out, reaching out for anything that you could use to pull yourself up… but with the pressure beating down over you, you sank deeper, and deeper, with no savior to jump in after you, now. This was it. This was the moment you had to choose.

Live, or Die.

Last time you chose to die, but there was nothing on the line. Lukas is on the line now. He is the only person you swore you were going to protect in this arena, and you had to find a way out of here if that was going to happen.

You tried to quiet your mind, to forget the past and just how much you hated being in this water. You were ignoring just how badly your arms ache while attempting to paddle to the surface. You forgot it all and remembered the boy you’ve known since childhood. You remembered all the times he stood up for you against the kids mocking your stutter. You remembered just how much he’s done for you and is still doing for you… and suddenly, your head breaks through the surface, and you’re able to crawl into the small cavern behind the waterfall.

You start heaving breaths, rapidly letting the air tear through your lungs, now that they had access to air in the first place. You smiled to yourself once you were able to get high enough on the rocks to stand. You survived. You’d been dealt a hand that was completely out of your favor and you managed to climb out and breathe the air around you.

Your excitement was immediately cut off when you heard a cannon sound.

You didn’t waste a minute in climbing the rocks as fast as you could, albeit a little clumsy from having wet hands and shoes. Your mind raced, and you hoped that your heart pounding would be eased, and you would be wrong about your suspicions.

“No, n-no,” you shook your head, running into the rainforest and looking around frantically. You took several turns, and couldn’t see anything or anyone, but you had your knife drawn anyway. You were practically panting by now, the heaviness in your breath never dwindling.

The minute you came to a clearing, your eyes falling on the person in front of you, your eyes watered with tears.

“Lukas,” you slid down to your knees next to his limp frame, pulling him into your lap to hold him. “Wake up. W-wake up, Lukas, I’m h-here.”

He didn’t budge, but as you rocked him, you were able to see the source of this tragedy, the trail of blood, streaming from his chest and over his body in gushes. It was all over your hands, and it was all over your arms. It was all over you. You were covered in his blood, just like you were covered in Rodey’s dried blood. You’d let another ally sacrifice themselves for you. You swore you wouldn’t.

This wasn’t just another ally, and this wasn’t just a tribute you’d met a week ago. This was the best friend you’d ever had. The person who grew up alongside you into a wonderful man. He was the person who comforted you when you felt too embarrassed to go to a family member. He was the boy who’d complimented you when no other boy would dare. He was the one who brought you shells every morning from his walk to the docks. And now he is the boy who’s blood you are covered in, crying over miserably.

You can’t bring yourself to part with him, to let him go. You know if you do, something different will become of you. Something you have never been before. So you don’t. You cling to him, and you cry, and you let the thunder that begins to rumble above you reflect your emotion. It’s been a day since it’s rained in this rainforest, but even still, the rain doesn’t pour, it only trickles slightly. Enough to remind you that despite this loss, and despite the fact that you will never be the same, you are still in this arena, and there is only one way out.

You raise your head, and hear another sound of a cannon. You look around, but there is no sign of movement or of other tributes.

There’s only one left, and despite what you’ve said since the moment you entered this God forsaken place, despite your morals, and despite these tributes not being your real enemy, there is only one thing on your mind, and you will not rest until you’ve attained it…

As you move to stand, you roll Lukas’ body on his back, placing his hands over his chest to be at rest. You hate that this is how his story ends. You want to bury him, you want to give him a proper memorial, but you know this arena will be scrapped by the capitol for next year’s use, and this spot will be desecrated soon after you arrange it. So you’ve decided you will raise a memorial of him back home, when you arrive there.

Your tears are still running hot, but there’s a new fire under them that hadn’t been there before. There’s an anger you’ve never felt before. There’s a glint in your eyes that will not be satisfied.

You turn your head at the familiar sound of an incoming parachute, the contents of the container seem to be large, as there’s an entire box being lowered in. You watch it fall to the ground, in disbelief at the sheer size of it alone. It comes up to about your knees, and you wonder, what could Finnick have sent me?

You flick open the top, and immediately see the contents of the inside. Rope, lots and lots of rope. Several carabiners are included that could be used for rock climbing, but you know, and he knows, that’s not what you have in mind.

You pick up the note, two little wet spots appearing from the tears in your eyes, and the rain from above.

Show no Mercy… - F

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

#finnick imagine #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair thg #thg finnick #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #hunger games #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin

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eff-plays · 9 months ago

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On these notes, can I umm ... have Tavs who are like ... their own people. With personal issues and hangups and conflicts and preferences. I need Tavs who have spines, who don't just exist to be soft and gentle for Astarion's sake, who don't exist to be therapists for him. Like I get it, it's self-care for writers to some extent, but it just makes for such boring reading when a Tav is always 100% understanding and pliable for Astarion. When they're head over heels instantly and understand him perfectly with minimal explanations. When they can somehow tell, feel his pain through nothing but his eyes. After knowing him for days, hours, seconds.

Need Tavs who don't let him drink from them and/or tell him to only bite enemies because it's more pragmatic. Tavs who don't get off to his bites and in fact find them painful and inconvenient. Tavs who disagree with him to his face. Tavs who call him out when he's being a cunt.

"I didn't tell anyone you're a vampire because it's not my secret to tell" but why? He never asked to keep it a secret, and he attacked you. In your sleep. You owe him nothing, and he could pose an active danger to the others if you don't tell them? How do you know he doesn't? He's done nothing to earn your trust, yet you offer it anyway. And you're not written to be stupid, just that you innately know he's important/damaged somehow, so what gives?

It annoys me that the only time meta knowledge is used it's in his favor. Like Tav just knows he's good deep down somehow. Despite him being a huge cunt constantly. Like, he kills Tav if they fail to make him stop. Without remorse. He even jokes about it later when they have the audacity to be upset about it. But that's never even a fear some Tavs have. When it makes far more sense to be suspicious he'd do that than trusting him instantly.

And another thing like ... So many Tavs are just orbiting Astarion. Just straight up fail to make connections of friendships with anyone else. They'll also have some sad backstory of course, but only Astarion is somehow aware of it, he's the only one who has any insight into their inner turmoil while everyone else doesn't give a shit, I guess. Which is just. He gets to both have the benefit of the doubt and special insight and understanding of Tav. He gets to have all the cards.

Where's the mess. Where's the conflict. Where's the intrigue and fun of two actual individual people learning to overcome their differences and/or finding comfort in their similarities?

Idk I realize I'm barking up the wrong tree because this is generally the state of most fic and the romance genre in general but it's extra evident in the Astarion fandom where he's elevated to the status of the ultimate victim and ultimate sex god so any conflict is untenable because he's soo vunlerable and sensitive and all situations must have him coming out on top or else it'll be ... idk, problematic? Abusive? Traumatic to him? What's the reason?

It ends up just doing him a disservice? Part of what makes the romance so compelling-in game (at least the Spawn route) is that Tav challenges him and his assumptions. That they push back. But in fic these Tavs "push back" by just accepting his bullshit with a smile and waiting for him to realize he's being a bitch on his own, I guess. He's also rarely allowed to be silly or cringefail, which he canonically is, and he's so coddled that it makes it look like this grown-ass man can't handle anyone disagreeing with him or teasing him, so he's always paired up with the most weaksauce spineless soft quirky manic pixie dream Tav imaginable.

Like. It's always "Uwu how can I make him happy? Anything to make him happy!" What about you hon? What do you get out of this relationship, babygirl?

And tbh this is headcanon of course but I just don't think he'd respect a doormat Tav very much. He needs to be sprayed with water every now and then. For his own good.

Whatevs. I mean write whatever you want. But. Man. I just want more cool Tavs. And less stunted and flattened Astarion who can't take a joke or a goof or a gaff, who's always too cool to fail or be wrong.

And before someone says "this is why Durge is better!" I have no interest in Durge and do not read Durge fic sorry. Also that wound't even be true.

#bg3 #'noo tav makes him realize the world is a good place by being kind and patient' ok but can they not be kind and patient at their own expens

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45cementry-gates · 10 months ago

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Ishman has officially Taken over my brain and so I decided to write a fanfic because why not. ʕ•ε•ʔ

~•~•~•~••~•~•~••~•~•~••~•~•~••~•~•~•~

This Starving Heart

#1. You feed it lies.

Shubhman Gill was many things… a talented and promising cricketer, a good brother, a great babysitter, part time voice-actor, part time entertainer, an unfairly handsome man; and yet instead of all these fields, he was, as usual, giving an outstanding performance in being a fucking pain in the ass.

Ishan knocked on the door thrice.

There was no response.

Not even a sound of acknowledgement.

He could hear faint beats of a song along with water being splashed and hitting the ground From inside the bathroom.

Ishan wasn't sure if he wanted to bang his head against the door until he passes out or just break the door down.

He lets the overwhelming urge to do something stupid wash over him and walks back towards his bed.

Afterall, this has become a fairly common routine from the past week.

Shubhman would wake up at ungodly hours, (Which, according to Ishan, was concerning as the guy had always hated waking up for early morning practices and sulked for half of the day whenever they had them.)

Then he would spend most of the extra time he had from waking up at 4 in the morning in the bathroom by throwing himself a rock concert while taking a shower.

(Also very concerning as he was the one bitching about Ishan's habit of playing songs while getting ready until last week.)

But perhaps the most shocking change was in Gill's attitude.

Instead of their usual banter which often ended up in full blown screaming matches (and sometimes straight up fights), he had…mellowed out.

He didn't throw a temper tantrum whenever Ishan played movies without using earphones anymore, did not call his outfits stupid, did not call his music taste lame 40 times a day and did not throw clothes in his face whenever he left his discarded clothes on the bedside table. Instead he actually picked them up and took them for laundry!?

It was almost as if……he was trying to be polite.

Which….what?..... Why??

Lost in his own track of thoughts, Ishan didn't hear the bathroom lock sliding open and Gill walking out.

"Sorry for the delay, you can go now."

Ishan almost said 'thank you' but realized who he was about to thank at the last second. Instead, he responded with,

"Finally Done with your item numbers in the shower?"

Usually, Ishan would get a sassy answer or something flying towards his face as a response.

Instead, what he got was a simple -

"Sorry…didn't mean to block the bathroom like that."

Ishan simply rolled his eyes,grabbed his towel and walked inside, trying his best to shake off the odd sensations buzzing in his head.

Afterall, he wasn't supposed to be concerned in the first Place. That was not the type of relationship he shared with his roommate.

They had unscheduled screaming matches once a day and flipped middle fingers at each other during practice sessions.

There was no friendship, only tolerance.

...And yet, Ishan couldn't help the unease he felt in his gut.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

A hand around his wrist, holding tightly with an unrelenting grip.

Another sneaked behind his neck, yanked at his collar and pulled him back.

His back is pressed against a wall and nimble fingers run across his body.

He feels them sneak in his shirt, but the touch feels nice. Warm.

Then they tug at the belt loops of his jeans and pull.

He moves without complaint.

He's pressed against someone and the warmth grows stronger…until it spreads like wildfire everywhere…he feels it as he curls his toes, arches his back, jerks his legs backwards…but it never stops.

He doesn't complain.

Then those hands trace his collarbone and slowly come up…gliding across his neck and jaw and finally cupping his cheek.

A soft kiss is placed on his forehead, then his nose and finally his lips.

(It's odd how both hands are caressing his face, yet it feels like he's being tickled on the stomach…but he ignores it.

He wonders if this is how butterflies kiss.)

The kiss feels like hot melted Jaggery on a cold day. He never wants it to stop.

But it stops and something moves-

And then he's staring straight into the gleaming eyes of his roommate.

Shubhman wakes up and barely holds himself back from screaming in horror.

He rubs his face and sits up in his bed.

His body feels uncomfortably hot, his clothes are sweaty and…his underwear feels weird.

He almost gives himself a panic attack on the off chance that it could be pee before the fuzzy edges of his dream become clearer and-

Shame churns out from his gut and burns him from the inside out.

He can't even remember the last time this happened.

And before he can even begin to process the fact that he dreamed of his roommate, of all people, he nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears a slurred "wha.t… happen..ed?" three feet away from him.

He suddenly remembers he's still in his hotel room that he shares with the same roommate.

"nothing. Washroom."

He gets out of bed and almost runs.

His roommate responds with-

"Mm…hmm" and promptly goes back to sleep.

'It's Just a one time thing'....he tells himself as he lets the cold shower cool his body down.

'It's Just a one time thing'....he keeps Chanting in his head as flashbacks from the dream filter through his head.

'It's Just a one time thing'.....he tells himself firmly as he goes to bed with the literal root of the problem in front of him.

Just a one time thing.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Pls tell me if it was good ♡(∩o∩)♡

Tagging :

@hum-suffer @bimesskaira @ishuess @fortunatelycrazyyouth @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @athena-swords @happypopcornprincess @deeee60 @melancholicmonody @hanaahaa

(if you want me to add or remove the tag pls tell me)

#ict #indian cricket team #desiblr #bcci #ishman #shubman x ishan #shubhman gill #ishan kishan #shubish

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year ago

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ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇ ɪɪ - ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɢɪʀʟ

Trigger warning! This one-shot includes the topic of an eating disorder, illness and an unhealthy eating behavior. These plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle those subjects, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

Authors note: Finally a little update on this story, yeay!

You leaned your forehead against the window before the train drove the last few meter into the station, seeking the comfortableness in it while calming your mind in a way. It was already dark when you arrived in National City and you got off exhausted. The nervousness and tension that had steadily increased along the way made your heart beat faster. The recurring dizziness forced you to get a small snack during the stop in Carthago.

A soft sigh left your lips as the native air crept into your nostrils. On the one hand you were happy to return home, but on the other hand you were afraid of it.

The first semester at Aetherford University had passed calmly but with a lot of stress. You had the chance to be mostly left alone by your and avoided engaging with them via video chat. Even Kara had avoided asking for a video call every third day of the week, otherwise she always had shaky hands just to see you again.

You needed this break, you had to think about a few things. A few months ago your body and mind had started playing against you. A trap had formed, which created more and more problems for you and also caused great fear.

At first you thought it was just happening because you were so stressed and everything was new, but it was not. You quickly found that trying to fight back was useless, because no matter what you did.. It got worse.

You were glad you were able to hide it; you did not know much people at university. At least not someone, who would really care. But it was slowly becoming clear to your professor and your room mate that you seemed emptier and weaker.

It started with just skipping breakfast, but over time it got worse. Breakfast turned into meals that were skipped and you started to survive only on snacks. Protein bars, apples, broccoli. Several times you came close to writing to your sisters, but immediately dismissed the idea. You were sure that they would immediately worry and take you out from university to bring you home.

At moments like this you wished Maggie back. The brunette would certainly have known a good solution or advice without telling Alex anything. But you could not ask her anymore, the contact broke apart.

Memories came flooding back of how Maggie and Alex had split up and you saw her boarding a train to another city right here where you were standing now. And even though you have been talked out of the fact that you could have done something about it, you still berated yourself for not at least trying. It had just been, on the whole, a heartbreaking disaster. Not just because Alex wanted to have children back then, no. Alex could not imagine a life without them and was forced to separate from her great love.

A final sigh left your lips and you took one step after the other in agony. Your head hurt and you did not know if it was because you had not eaten and drunk much today or if it was simply because you sat on a train for five hours straight with a baby crying almost non-stop.

But one thing was certain: It could not be because of the many books in the library.

Over the last six months you have been looking for answers and self-help in the library, but unfortunately you have not found any that helped you. Instead, it kept getting worse.

At first it was difficult for you to really take this problem seriously, as it was often unclear or you had suppressed it. It changed quickly, however, and the consequences became clearer and sharper over time, especially since spring.

That is why you were reluctant to let classmates touch or hug you. You also no longer voluntarily sought physical contact. You were afraid that others would be afraid of you.

A loud horn honk pulled you back to the here and now and you saw none other than Alex on her motorbike. You just hoped that the redhead would not get the idea to hug you right away. You did not want to let it happen until you got your illness under control.

"Look who we have here, the missing Danvers!" mocking, her voice cut through the street noise. You closed your eyes briefly and took a deep breath; now it was going to get serious and you had to be careful at everything. "C´mere, kiddo."

You quickly raised a hand in front of your body, and held it in place. "No hugs please. I, eh… pinched two of my ribs and it hurts like hell," you lied and in the same moment you could have slapped yourself for this statement.

Your sister eyed you intently. You looked ill in her eyes and even though she could not see your face directly because of the darkness, she still noticed how pale and tired you looked.

For several months, Alex Danvers wondered what was wrong with her youngest sister. He had noticed the rapid change in you, even when you were miles away. After all, she was not a DEO agent for nothing. And she wondered why you did not talk to her, you always did.

"Well, can I give you at least a kiss on your cheek?" she asked with a slight smile on her lips. You nodded and mirrored her facial expressions. Putting on a mask, a smiling face. A breathy laugh escapes my mouth so she can not see my pain. The redhead quickly leaned down and gave you three small kisses on the cheek before placing a helmet in your hands and gently wrapping an arm around you.

You felt her hand on your shoulder and instinctively wanted to shake it off when she pulled it back on her own to get her keys out of her leather jacket. You knew from her lingering eye contact that she was not satisfied with your previous answer and that she suspected something. Nevertheless, you were glad that she left you alone without forcing any questions on you.

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luxaofhesperides · 2 years ago

Text

those who serve.

CHAPTER THREE: a transition.

chapter one, chapter two or the full fic on ao3.

how did i write 10k.... my self-control is nonexistent. enjoy.

“Is there anyone else who works here?”

Alfred stops to consider the question, then turns to face Danny, bringing a stop to their tour of the manor. “On occasion. Many galas or events require specific companies to set up and organize the spaces open to the public. I also hire a landscaping company once a year to tend to the yard, and a cleaning company to set every room in the manor straight.”

Danny hums thoughtfully. They’ve been walking through the manor for around an hour now and have only just finished the first floor. Alfred is very in-depth for this tour, speaking of not only what each room is, but also brief snippets of the history of the Wayne family, supplemented by a multitude of portraits hanging in the hallways.

“But there’s no one else to help with daily tasks? It’s just you?”

“That is correct. There was a full staff many years ago, but they had left after Master Bruce’s parents had died. I alone remained to care for Master Bruce and the Manor.”

“And no one else ever came by to help? Bruce didn’t offer to hire anyone to help you?”

Bruce had been nice so far, letting Danny into his home and office, promising to work out the details for him alongside Tim. They had gotten a strange look on their faces when Danny reluctantly admitted that he didn’t legally exist and had no social security number to put into the paperwork. Stranger, though, was the fact that they didn’t ask any follow up questions besides basic information about himself: age, date of birth, allergies and medical conditions.

And then they said they’d get it all sorted out and sent him on his way with Alfred, who had appeared behind him without him noticing.

It’s all very suspicious. Danny’s starting to worry that the Wayne’s might be leading a mob; he knows getting legal identification and records for him will involve some illegal work. Nice of them to do it, but still a reason why he can’t trust them.

“Though it has come up occasionally,” Alfred says, “I have refused each person who sought employment here. There have been too many people who wished to take advantage of the Wayne family’s wealth and fame. I have found plans for hostage situations, theft, even selling personal secrets to magazines.”

“Yikes,” Danny winces. “That sucks. So why did you agree to take me on? Shouldn’t you have done like, I don’t know, a background check?”

“I only need to know if you are a good person.” Alfred smiles at him and places a hand on his shoulder. “You are a very good person, Danny. I would be honored to entrust the family to you.”

Tears well up in Danny’s eyes. He blinks them away quickly, trying to hide how touched he is. No one’s ever trusted him so much, or so quickly. Even as Phantom, back in Amity Park, it took a long time for people to trust that he wanted to keep them safe. Sam and Tucker may have believed in him to protect them when things got rough, but they also saw first hand all his blunders and mistakes.

Alfred doesn’t see any of that. He sees a homeless teen with nothing to his name, no family or home or possessions, and is willingly putting his trust in him.

Danny wants to prove him right. He wants to show that he can be trusted, that this isn’t a mistake. He’ll take on the whole world if that’s what it means.

“Thanks,” he manages to get out.

“Think nothing of it, Danny.” With a final pat to his shoulder, Alfred steps away and continues the tour, leading Danny through the second floor.

Much of the manor looks the same: big and expensive. There are so many paintings and portraits and fancy rugs everywhere. There’s potted plants and vases set out on display, statue busts and sculptures. It’s a little dizzying to think about so Danny tries to put it all out of his mind and just go with the flow.

He’s going to spend so much time getting lost here, he can already tell.

Alfred is a good guide. It’s too bad that Danny’s spotty memory is going to make this tour be mostly useless.

Still, walking through the manor is a nice reprieve from his conversation in Bruce’s office.

It stays nice up until they reach the family wing, where everyone’s bedrooms are. Alfred’s just going over whose rooms are never to be entered without explicit permission, and whose rooms need to be checked every few days to be cleaned.

Danny’s listening attentively, trying to memorize each name and match it to a door, noting which ones are keep out and which ones are clean occasionally.

He’s listening until a sudden chill races up his spine and his spins around, placing himself in front of Alfred on instinct as he readies himself for a fight. He didn’t hear anyone behind him, didn’t feel the same coldness that alerted him to a ghost nearby, but there was a shift in the air, a warning that he needs to be on his guard.

There’s a girl in front of him. She had snuck up behind him completely silently and he almost didn’t notice her presence at all.

It’s hard to tell how old she is. She must be older than him, surely, but she looks youthful enough to be any age over fifteen. Her eyes are dark and even though she smiles at him, Danny can only see her as a threat. It doesn’t matter that her body is fully relaxed and her hands are open; she doesn’t need to move to be dangerous. She just is.

“Miss Cassandra,” Alfred greets warmly. “You didn’t come down for breakfast.”

“Slept in,” she says, “Smoothie?”

“I shall make you one after I finish giving Danny a tour of the manor.”

Cassandra nods and looks over Danny, eyes scanning him carefully. “New brother?” she asks.

“No,” Danny says before Alfred can answer. “Definitely not. I’m… working for Alfred? Will be working with Alfred? I don’t know the official name for the position I’m going to get.”

“You are to be my apprentice. And later on, a butler much like myself. Traditionally, there is strict schooling a butler must undergo to gain that title, but this family has never been traditional itself. It will work out with time.”

Butler school is a thing? That almost distracts Danny enough to stop paying attention to Cassandra. Almost.

He steps back when she reaches for him and Alfred moves out from behind him. “She will not harm you,” he says to Danny quietly, though he has no doubt Cassandra can hear every word, “And she will not touch you so long as you tell her not to.”

“I will not hurt,” she confirms. “Hand? For hello?” Then she signs something and looks at him expectantly.

“I don’t know ASL.”

She holds out a hand. “For hello,” she repeats.

It clicks, then, that she’s asking for a handshake. Warily, he reaches out to shake her hand, and despite his fear, her grip is light and easy to break if needed.

“Cass,” she says. “Welcome.”

“Danny,” he returns, “Thanks. I guess I’ll be seeing you around a lot? Since I’ll be working here.”

She nods. “My room is off limits. Ask first.”

“You got it.” Danny pulls his hand away, glad that she didn’t pull a Bruce and keep hold of him. He gives her a weak thumbs up which she returns enthusiastically.

Then she turns to Alfred and asks, “Little brothers?”

“Master Damian has gone to school and Master Tim is in the study. Though he may have left to work downstairs. I shall call you up when I have made your smoothies.”

“Lots of fruit,” she says, “No green.” And she waves goodbye and disappears down the hallway, heading for the staircase.

It’s only as she’s leaving that Danny realizes he can’t hear her footsteps at all. She’s clearly not floating like he is, but she’s completely silent anyways. The way she moves makes it seem like she’s either about to start twirling around and dancing, or throw herself into a fight.

This family is definitely a mob family. She’s probably one of their best enforcers.

“Miss Cassandra will often leave without warning. She will return just as suddenly. She can take care of herself more than other members of this family, but she cannot be trusted with laundry,” Alfred says.

“Oh. Okay.”

Danny stares at Alfred, wondering if he’s going to say anything about how obviously dangerous she is, but all he does is nod and start walking again. He doesn’t want to bring up her unusual way of speaking—it’s probably rude to ask about such things, and Danny doesn’t want to be kicked out for being insensitive—and chalks it up to a language development issue and puts it out of his mind.

He can understand her and she can understand him. That’s all they need.

The tour continues without any issues. No one else pops in to surprise him and the walk through the yard to the greenhouse is nice and relaxing.

Danny’s especially looking forward to helping Alfred out there. Trimming back hedges, weeding flower beds, tending to the herb and vegetable gardens; it’s so nice to live someplace that isn’t ecto-contaminated. It’s actually safe to eat all the plants that are growing out there.

It’s a nice change from what he’s used to.

By the time they get back to the kitchen, it’s been a few hours. Danny’s starting to feel the pull of sleep, unused to being awake while the sun is up. He’ll have to stop being nocturnal if he intends to work this job.

He can’t help Alfred during the busiest hours of the day if he’s knocked out and snoring before ten in the morning.

Alfred, being who he is, gently ushers Danny into a seat at the table then bustles around the kitchen, setting out a blender and a few large glasses.

“I can help,” Danny starts, rising to stand.

“I’m sure you can, but not today,” Alfred says, pinning Danny in place with a stern glare. “I know you are tired. Rest a while and we shall work out your accommodations after I am finished here.”

“I can just come back later. I’ve got a place to sleep in the city.”

“Absolutely not. We have more than enough empty beds here.”

A bed does sound nice. Waking up on a concrete floor or with a crick in his neck from sitting up against a wall all day is unpleasant. A bed with pillows and blankets? While it was normal for him once, now it sounds like heaven.

He’ll ignore the Wayne family being a mob for a good bed.

In fact, Danny will even settle for a subpar bed, though he’ll be bitter about rich people not spending their money on decent mattresses.

So he sits and watches Alfred make smoothies, chopping up fruit and dropping ice into the blender. His eyes start closing, slowly, and he forces himself not to slump onto the table and pass out. Falling asleep in the kitchen is nothing new to him, but this isn’t his home. This is his future workplace and he needs to learn how to be professional, but he’s sure step one is don’t fall asleep at the table.

Danny is so close to failing step one.

“Hey Alfred,” he says, trying to stay awake, “How much time do you spend cooking?”

“Quite a lot. I often spend mornings preparing every meal for the day so lunch and dinner can be quickly made.”

“It doesn’t leave you much time to do other things, right?”

“I suppose so.”

Danny nods, biting back a yawn as Alfred looks over, pausing for a moment to give Danny his full attention. “I don’t know how to cook or anything, but I can help with other things while you’re in here.”

“You do not need to worry about that right now, Danny. I plan on having you shadow me for a week and learn how to do many of my tasks. And I would always appreciate a hand in the kitchen; previous experience doesn’t matter at all when I can teach you everything you need to know.”

Job talk is out of the question then. Alfred’s just going to shut it all down until Danny’s more awake and capable of keeping focused. Totally fair, even if Danny wants to keep prodding to get all the details he can about this job.

“Can you tell me more about everyone who lives here?” he asks, turning the conversation down a different path.

“I do believe you will learn more about them on your own,” Alfred says, popping the lid back onto the blender, “They will be eager to meet you, now that you’re here.”

“We will have a family dinner,” Cass says from behind him, just before the blender starts up and swallows up every other sound in the kitchen.

Danny flinches hard enough to bang his knees against the underside of the table. He’s wide awake now, adrenaline running through him, and he has to hold his breath in an attempt to stop from gasping or having his heart give out from shock.

“Cass,” he says, “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she says, raising her voice to be heard.

A moment later, the blender stops and Alfred starts pouring it into one of the tall cups. “Miss Cassandra,” he says, somehow knowing she’s there without turning around or hearing her, “Your smoothie is ready.”

She crosses the kitchen in silent steps and takes the offered cup with a smile. “Thanks,” she says, signing at the same time. “Family dinner tonight.”

“I see. Will Master Jason be returning as well?”

“I will get him,” she promises. There’s a glint in her eyes that speaks of nothing but trouble. Danny feels bad for this Jason person, but has no intention to help him. Cass is not someone he wants to go up against, no matter how friendly she acts.

She turns to Danny just before she leaves the kitchen and tells him, “Go sleep.”

He can do nothing but nod, but it’s enough for her and she walks away without another word, sipping on her smoothie.

Alfred begins preparing another smoothie, and Danny considers asking who it’s for. If it’s for him, he’ll need to find a way to politely decline it on account of not being used to having a full stomach these days and starting to feel a little sick at the thought of more food.

Thankfully, he doesn’t offer it to Danny once it’s made. Alfred just keeps the glass set aside on the counter and starts washing the dishes.

He has to bite down an offer to help; Alfred has made it very clear that Danny isn’t doing anything at all today besides meeting the family and getting a look around the manor. It grates at him, having to sit and do nothing, but he doesn’t want to overstep his bounds and get kicked out before he can do anything.

That would be a terrible start to his career. Whatever his career ends up being.

Just as Alfred’s putting the last of the dishes onto the drying rack, Tim walks in and says, “Cass has a smoothie.” Then he spots the glass left on the counter, untouched, and goes, “Oh.”

Danny considers this more proof that Alfred has magic. It’s just a magic specific to predicting the people he considers under his care.

“I thought you would want one as well,” Alfred says.

Tim nods and grabs the glass to take a sip. “Mhmm. You can’t expect me not to come running when you make smoothies. Could use a little spice, though.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s good! I swear! Sweet and spicy is a good combination.”

“I will not be putting spices in my smoothies, Master Tim. I do have some self-respect.”

Tim shrugs and stops arguing. “All right. Your kitchen, your rules. I’ll get my spicy smoothies elsewhere.” Then he turns to Danny, looks him over with a critical eye, and says, “You look tired. Do you wanna crash in one of the guest rooms for a nap?”

“I was just about to have Danny pick out his room,” Alfred says, “If you would follow me, Danny.”

He hurries to get up, hastily pushing the chair back in, and falls into step behind Alfred. Tim joins them, for reasons unknown to Danny, but his company has been nice during the few hours Danny’s been in the manor, so he doesn’t mind.

They don’t go to the family wing. There’s apparently a servants’ wing, and though he isn’t a fan of the name, he’s glad to be put somewhere far away from the Wayne family. With them being the way they are, he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up with them standing over him in the middle of the night if his room was in the same wing as theirs. Maybe not to hurt him, but just to watch him and make sure he’s alright.

There’s nothing that says they would do that, but it’s the vibe he’s getting. Nice, a little prone to worry, and very much capable of going about the wrong way to make sure everything’s okay.

Hell, they’re making him a new identity through definitely illegal means just because he can’t do anything without legally existing.

He’s better off not thinking too hard about the Wayne family, honestly. At least, not until he can do some research on them once he can access the internet again.

“Here are my private quarters,” Alfred says, nodding to a door. “I would like for you to choose a room in this hallway, so that I am nearby in case you need anything.”

There are only six other doors in the hallway, which means these are fairly big rooms. Danny looks over his options and goes for the door on the other side of the hallway, a door down from Alfred’s room. Close enough to hear Alfred if he needs help, close enough to call for help, but far enough that Danny doesn’t feel crowded.

He opens it, hesitating slightly until Alfred nods at him to go in, then tries very hard not to gape too obviously.

Servants’ wing brought to mind an image of small, cramped rooms that held only the bare minimum. A bed, definitely, maybe a desk, possible a closet or wardrobe. The bathroom would be separate, maybe down the hall in its own room.

That is not what the room looks like. It’s big, larger than the living room and kitchen of his old house combined. There’s a couch and a low table in what must act as a lounging area, then a desk on the far wall just beneath a window, and a large bed in the back of the room. A door off to the side goes to the bathroom and another is open to show an empty closet. A drawer is set beside it, a ship in a bottle on top of it as the only decoration in the room.

“Oh wow,” he says, taking it all in. “Are you sure I can have this room? I can take something smaller.”

“No way. If you’re going to be working with us, the least we can do is give you a good room as thanks for all the things you’ll have to deal with from us.” Tim nudges his shoulder, a gentle, friendly little gesture that forces Danny deeper into the room.

“You can redecorate it however you like,” Alfred says, “And we shall go shopping to get everything you need once you’ve settled in a little more.”

This is way too much.

Abruptly, Danny feels lightheaded.

He hasn’t even done anything yet. And here’s Alfred, and by extension the Wayne family, offering up not just a job, but a home, a future, a place to belong.

“Woah!” Tim grabs his arm suddenly and Danny slumps against him. The world feels a little more real now that he has someone keeping him from drifting away. He must have been swaying a bit because the room settles into stillness just as he realizes that the floor is tilting out from under him. “Let’s get you to the bed.”

Tim leads him across the room and Alfred follows, a hand against Danny’s back to hold him steady.

“I suppose this was a little too much excitement,” Alfred says, “Get some rest, Danny. We can work everything out later.”

“No,” he mumbles, but can’t fight back as he’s gently maneuvered onto the bed. “I’m supposed to shadow you.”

“There is no rush.” The pillow is heavenly soft beneath his head. All the strength leaves his body and Danny realizes just how exhausted he’s been, running on fumes for the past month and not noticing because there was never time to notice. Now his body is making the executive choice to rest, uncaring of his concerns of sleeping in a strange new environment, of the responsibilities he needs to take on in order to survive in this dimension.

“I’ll let everyone know to leave you alone,” Tim says, voice lowered until it’s just louder than a whisper. Danny forces his eyes to cooperate and squints in Tim’s direction just to see him leave the room—Danny’s new room—and that’s all he sees before his eyes slide shut, unable to resist the siren call of sleep.

It feels like he’s falling. Like he’s sinking, neck deep in quicksand with no way out. The world quickly fades away, and the last thing he hears is Alfred saying, “Sleep well, my boy. You are safe now.”

And, despite all his doubts, Danny believes him.

Danny must be dreaming. None of this feels real, certainly, but he’s not sure if that’s because of the twisting and confusing nature of dreams, or the absurd and unreasonable behavior of rich people.

He sleeps.

He had (allegedly) woken up after six hours, just after Damian had returned from school. After he had felt a little more human and cognizant, he wandered the manor until he managed to make his way to the kitchen. When Alfred wasn’t there, he searched every room and hallway until Cass appeared behind him and pointed him towards the family den, where he was dusting.

From then on, Danny stuck close to Alfred, following after him as he spoke about what he was doing, how he was doing it, and how often he does each task. It’s easy enough to understand, and Danny’s confident that he can pick it up quickly enough and help Alfred out by reducing his duties some.

The idea of working for the Wayne family isn’t so alarming now that he knows what he’ll be doing. It’s all just cleaning and taking care of the manor. Alfred can handle tending to the actual family, and he can ask Danny for help on anything.

This could actually work out well, which will be a first for Danny.

He thinks it’s all fine up until Cass meets him in the living room, takes hold of his arm, and grins at Alfred. “Got everyone,” she says, without offering any context, then drags him into the dining room.

Too many people are in there and they all stare at him.

There are plates set on the table and almost everyone is seated. Cass direct him to a chair and Danny suddenly realizes that this is a family dinner and he’s expected to sit and eat with them.

He must be lucid dreaming. It must be a nightmare. But when he discretely pinches himself, he can feel the sting of pain clearly.

“Sit,” Cass tells him, and he sits because he doesn’t want to know what will happen to him if he disobeys. Especially since it’s Cass, especially since Bruce is watching him.

Distantly, he wonders if he can fake his death and run away to another city. Before he can go down that train of thought, Bruce clears his throat and gathers everyone’s attention. They all look to him, then glance back at Danny, trading knowing looks with each other.

“Everyone, I’m sure you’ve heard already, but this is Danny,” Bruce says, “He is not mine. He’s Alfred’s. Any comments can go to him this time instead of me.”

“Thank you, Master Bruce,” Alfred says with a polite bite in his voice. “Danny has graciously offered to help me in my duties of taking care of the manor. Do treat him well.”

Apparently, that’s all the introduction he gets. Everyone returns their attention to him, blatantly staring. Some look annoyed, others look excited. All of them have a hard light in their eyes, as if they can peel back every layer of him and find all his secrets just by looking.

It’s unnerving.

Danny, hesitantly, waves to the room at large, then tucks his hands back under the table.

Across from him, a man with a bright grin and the bluest eyes Danny’s ever seen leans forward. “Hey! I’m Dick, Bruce’s oldest.”

He almost asks what he did to earn the name Dick before his common sense smacks him in the back of his head and stops him. “Hi,” he returns weakly.

Taking their cue, the rest of the brood go around introducing themselves. Besides Dick is Damian who gives him a curt nod, then Cass who waves at him happily. There’s a blond girl who has a smile that screams trouble; she introduces herself as “Steph, not Stephanie unless you’re looking for a throw down”, then adds that she’s not Bruce’s kid, she just likes Alfred’s cooking, which is very valid.

On the Danny’s side of the table is Tim, who rolls his eyes at the man beside him, who has a streak of white hair above his forehead who gruffly introduces himself as Jason and says nothing more. On the other side of Danny is a a boy who looks to be the same age as him and so far has the calmest demeanor of everyone in the manor.

“I’m Duke,” he says, “I’m mentoring under Bruce right now, so I’ll be hanging out here often. Usually during mornings or evenings, so I probably won’t be in your way too much.”

“There are a few others,” Bruce says, as if this group isn’t enough, “Though they weren’t able to make it tonight. I’m sure they’ll come by to meet you soon enough.”

“Great,” Danny says, trying not to sound like he’s dying. He fails, and Steph’s muffled laughter makes heat rush to his face. Would it be too much to go intangible and just sink through the floor? Surely once dinner comes out they’ll be too busy eating to notice Danny melting from the sheer mortification of being so lame in front of the family he’s going to work for.

Luckily, Alfred comes to his rescue by announcing that he’ll bring dinner out now. Before Danny can offer to help, yet again, Jason roughly pushes himself away from the table and declares that he’ll help. He’s walking into the kitchen before anyone can respond and Alfred just shakes his head with a fond smile on his face.

Maybe that’s the way to do it. Say he’s going to help, then get to it before Alfred can do anything to stop him.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks. Danny startles, looking away from the door to the kitchen, waiting for Alfred and Jason to reemerge, and blinks at Bruce.

“Fine?”

“I was a little worried when I heard you had passed out.”

“I didn’t pass out,” Danny refutes immediately. “I was just tired. I’m a little nocturnal right now, but I’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

“It sounds like your sleep schedule is like a lot of ours,” Steph says.

Dick shoots a sharp look at Bruce as he says, “Sounds like you’ll fit right in.” Somehow, it sounds like a threat.

“I’ve got your paperwork figured out. We’ll just need to get your picture taken for your ID.” Bruce completely ignores Dick.

“I can do that,” Tim interjects, “We just need a good backdrop, something in a neutral color.”

“How about using one of the bedsheets?” Duke suggests.

“Yeah, that would work. Can you hold it up for me?”

“Sure, just let me know when you wanna do it. We’ll have to find a good one.”

“So!” Dick claps his hands together, “Tell us a bit about yourself, Danny.”

Danny freezes. These people definitely know something’s up with him. They helped create a new identity for him! They heard his conditions for staying! They know he’s not normal, but he doesn’t know what they might be thinking about him. What’s something mundane he can share that doesn’t have anything to do with death or ghosts or experiments?

“What do you want to know?” he asks slowly, wondering if he’s just offered himself up for the slaughter.

“Who’s your favorite hero?”

…What. What?

Danny casts his mind around for an answer. He hasn’t really kept up with comics back home, too busy with ghosts and school to do much of anything else. The video games he usually plays don’t have superheroes, and there haven’t been any good superhero movies to come out, so he hasn’t watched any in years.

Even then, none of the superhero characters in his dimension were particularly interesting to him.

“I don’t really have one.”

“Come on, I’m sure you do! There’s so many options, you have to like at least one!” Steph insists, looking overly invested in his answer.

“Um.”

Once again, Alfred saves him by entering the dining room again, pushing a cart full of plates. Jason follows after him with a cart holding empty glasses and two pitchers of water. All conversation comes to a stop as they eagerly wait to receive their plate, each member of the Wayne family thanking Alfred.

Bruce is the only one to thank Jason, who just huffs and quickly moves away from him.

Danny quietly says his thanks when he gets his plate and tries not to feel too touched when he sees that his portion is visibly smaller than anyone else’s. He hadn’t even asked, but Alfred noticed and adjusted accordingly, plating only what Danny would be able to eat without getting sick.

Yeah, Danny can ignore any suspicious mob activities so long as he can stay with Alfred. The man deserves the world for all his kindness, but the best Danny can do is give him a little help.

He thinks he’s managed to dodge the question, now that everyone is digging into dinner, but Steph is nothing but relentless. Mouth full, she says, “Come on, Danny, you haven’t answered yet!”

“Miss Stephanie, please do not speak with your mouth full,” Alfred scolds.

“What question?” Jason asks, glancing towards Danny for a split second before quickly turning away.

“Favorite superhero,” Tim answers.

“So?” Steph prompts, looking at him expectantly.

Why is this such a big deal? Danny tries to think of an answer, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe they’ll accept someone he looks up to as an answer? And there’s someone who pops into his mind immediately.

“My big sister,” he says, “She’s my hero.”

“Aww!” Dick coos at his answer, looking touched. “That’s so sweet!”

“Yeah.” Danny smiles, relaxing a bit now that he can speak about something that’s actually happy for once. “She’s great. She’s taken care of me for a long time, and even though she can be annoying, especially with her bad habit of psychoanalyzing everyone around her, I could always trust her to have my back no matter what.”

Cass taps on the table to get his attention. “Where is she? Safe?”

“I… I hope so. She’ll be safer now that I’m not around her, in any case.”

“If you are in any danger,” Bruce begins, then Danny catches the sound of multiple people kicking at him from under the table. “We can discuss this later,” he amends.

Okay. No longer a happy topic! He’ll remember that for any future discussions.

“As sweet as that is,” Steph interrupts, “I was looking for an answer about an actual hero. Like, someone from the Justice League maybe.”

The what now?

“Wonder Woman is obviously the only correct answer,” Jason says.

“Batman and Robin are far superior. They can keep up with all the others without any powers,” Damian argues.

“But they’re not Wonder Woman,” Jason says, as if that’s all the argument he needs. “Besides, Batman is a loser who can barely keep Gotham safe.”

“Black Bat is better than all of them,” Tim says, throwing in his two cents.

Cass smiles at him and says, “Red Robin. He is kind and smart.”

“I think anyone from the Titans is a good choice,” Dick says, “They’re all skilled and have saved countless lives.”

“I guess Nightwing’s pretty cool, but the Signal is better,” Duke adds.

“So?” Steph says, leaning onto the table in an attempt to bridge the distance between them. “C’mon, pick anyone.”

Danny blinks, then slowly looks at each person around the table. In his mind, superheroes are fictional. Just a fun genre to play in, a poplar media that nerds gravitate towards. Technically, Phantom counts as a hero, but he’s also a non-sentient entity according to the government and only operates in Amity, rather than across the Earth.

The way everyone at the dinner table is talking about superheroes as if they’re real has him concerned. On one hand, they could just be a family of nerds who love their comic books. On the other hand, this is an entirely new dimension where superheroes could exist and Danny didn’t notice because he hasn’t looked into the happenings of this world yet.

This is clearly going to out him as Not From Here, but he needs to know, so Danny slowly asks, “Are you… saying that superheroes are real?”

The entire room freezes. Half the table looks at him incredulously while the other half look deep in thought, as if they’re realizing something unfortunate.

“Heroes are real,” Bruce answers. His voice is calm, neutral, but his eyes are stormy. “Some work with governments. Others operate outside the law in order to protect people. But there are many, all over the world, and some join forces to create teams that deal with certain threats or cover specific locations.”

Heroes are real.

“Are you fucking with me,” Danny says without thinking.

“Though I am sure this is a surprise to you Danny,” Alfred says from the end of the table where he’s refilling Duke’s glass, “Do remember to eat.”

Moving on autopilot, Danny stabs his fork down and shoves a stalk of grilled asparagus into his mouth.

“No?” Dick answers, looking hesitant for the first time that evening. “They’re real. We have a group of heroes in Gotham: Batman and his birds. Also Oracle and sometimes her Birds of Prey.”

“So you just have people who become heroes and fight crime? Regular people?”

“Some have powers due to the metagene. Others have powers from… other means that are not well understood. And some heroes have powers because they’re aliens.”

“Y’all got actual aliens?!” Danny shouts. He realizes belatedly that he’s jumped out of his seat to stand, hands on the table and leaning forward towards Dick, eagerly awaiting his answer.

“Superman and Martian Manhunter,” Tim helpfully supplies.

“Is Martian Manhunter an actual Martian? From Mars?”

“Sure is.”

“He’s my new favorite,” Danny declares.

Almost immediately, everyone at the table, sans Bruce and Alfred, start throwing out their objections, insisting that other heroes are better and demanding to know where his Gotham Pride is at, nevermind the fact that he’s not even a citizen of Gotham.

“I don’t care,” Danny says, “He’s from Mars. That automatically makes him cooler than anyone else. I am not taking criticism at this time.”

The rest of dinner is spent arguing over who’s the better hero, during which Danny stubbornly refuses to change his stance. Despite the raised voices and the dramatic threats, everyone is smiling, having fun as they shout at each other.

The Waynes may be a mob family, but they’re also nerds and, even better, fans. It’s so fun that Danny doesn’t even realize that he’s managed to clean off his plate now that stress isn’t making his stomach twist itself into knots. In fact, he’s managed to forget that he’s eating dinner with a rich family in their giant manor because the atmosphere reminds him of a group of friends hanging out at Nasty Burger, all laughter and good vibes.

It lifts his mood and makes him more comfortable walking through the halls, listening to everyone chatter about various topics. They split up near the family den; Dick, Damian, and Steph go in to watch movies while Tim grabs Jason and mentions getting some more work done on a project they’re working on together, while Duke leaves to do homework in the library.

Bruce has vanished along with Cass and Alfred had insisted that Danny get some more rest while he washes all the dishes.

Despite his earlier sleep, exhaustion still hangs heavy in his limbs. Having a full stomach only makes it more obvious just how much rest he needs still. Every part of him wants to curl up under a blanket and forget about the world outside, but he can’t.

He still needs to be vigilant. The Waynes may be fun, but he still can’t trust them not to suddenly stab him in the back if they discover his halfa status.

And Alfred will need his help. He needs to stay up just in case Alfred needs something.

Danny, unsurprisingly, falls asleep within ten minutes of sitting down on the couch in his room. He intended to wait for Alfred to show up or for someone else to ask for his help, but the room was quiet, far away from everyone else, and he was so comfortable that he just… dozed off.

He stirs just slightly when he feels someone pick him up; whoever it is has large arms. Like his dad. Jack Fenton hadn’t picked up Danny to tuck him in for years, but only because Danny got used to staying up absurdly late on account of fighting ghosts and homework. It’s the safest he’s felt in months, cradled by those arms that gently set him onto the bed and tuck him in.

It takes no effort at all to sink back into sleep, dreaming of nothing but the peaceful quiet of the stars.

The second time he wakes up, some of the heaviness in his limbs has eased, but it’s still there. How much sleep could he possibly need as a half-dead boy? More apparently. His body is making its demands very clear.

Still, Danny forces himself up. If he’s going to work with Alfred, he needs to cut off his bad habit of staying in bed when he wakes up in the morning. He needs to be better. He needs to prove that he can earn his place here and make something worthwhile of himself.

That he’s even been given the chance to do this is nothing short of a miracle.

A quick look at the clock tells him that it’s barely six in the morning; this is usually around the time he starts looking for somewhere to settle down for the day. Now it doesn’t mark the end of his day, but the beginning.

Danny moves to get up and head to the bathroom, wash his face to look a little more put together, when he catches sight of something on the bed that wasn’t there yesterday.

Folded clothes. And the note on top reads: We will buy you new clothes soon. For now, Tim has extras that he will give to you. -B

Bruce Wayne, resident rich man and future boss, delivered Tim’s clothes to Danny. Everything about that sentence is absurd, but it’s apparently what happened.

He’ll… worry about all that later. He can only focus on so many things at once.

He needs to get it together. Make a plan. Some kind of to-do list. Something like:

Wash your face to look less like a very sad racoon.

Wear new clothes that haven’t been stuck on your body for weeks.

Breakfast?

Do stuff????

Job accomplished.

It needs some work, but it’s a good starting point. He’ll figure out the rest as he goes. Step one is easy enough to accomplish, as is step two. Wearing something clean has never felt so good and Danny has a new appreciation for the wonders of laundry. It helps that Tim has good taste in clothes; everything he’s given to Danny is soft and slightly oversized, just the way he likes it.

Breakfast is a little harder, as Danny wanders through the halls in search of the kitchen. He must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because he ends up at an indoor pool?

No one’s around.

It’s as good a time as any to go invisible and start walking through walls until he finds some familiar rooms.

Or familiar faces, he thinks, as he stumbles upon Cass hanging upside down from a light fixture. He stares at her, a little worried but mostly bemused, as she scrolls on her phone as if this is completely normal. And maybe it is for her, who is he to say?

Just as he wonders if he can go down the hall and walk back, visible and completely human, to ask her for directions, Cass tilts her head and looks at him.

Or rather, in his general direction, dark eyes scanning across the hallway before settling almost directly on him despite his invisibility.

“Who?” she calls out, searching the area.

There’s no possible way she could have known. But somehow she does. Cass knows he’s here and that’s really not great. How is he supposed to hide if things go wrong? She’ll just hunt him down through instinct alone and that’s more terrifying than any GIW agent or his parents.

Danny all but hurls himself through the wall and hurries away, looking over his shoulder as he recklessly goes through the manor.

It’s almost an accident when he phases through the wall into the dining room; seeing that long table, the chandeliers, the stillness of the room is an honest relief. Here’s somewhere he’s more familiar with.

And through the door is the kitchen where Alfred is already getting started on his work for the day.

Danny drops his invisibility at the doorway, stepping into the kitchen with a quiet, “Morning, Alfred.”

Alfred doesn’t startle. He just looks over with a small smile and asks, “Danny. How did you sleep?”

“Fine. Slept longer than I’m used to.”

“Do take a seat and I’ll have breakfast ready for you shortly.”

Danny steps up to the counter, hovering beside Alfred, calling upon his ingrained stubbornness to ignore Alfred’s not-orders.

“I can make my breakfast,” he says, “Or, like, you could teach me how to make breakfast.”

Alfred doesn’t respond for a long moment, looking only at the eggs sizzling away in the frying pan, then sighs. “Very well. Though you do not need to start your workday before eight in the morning.”

“I want to learn,” Danny insists.

“So you shall, Danny. Let’s begin with making some French toast.”

From then, Alfred shifts seamlessly into teaching mode, showing him where everything in the kitchen is and watching over Danny carefully as he cracks an egg and adds milk and vanilla extract. He moves to the side to give Danny space at the oven, taking over the front-left section with his own frying pan.

He’s nervous about burning it, but Alfred is keeping track of both their cooking, instructing Danny when to turn down the heat and flip over the bread.

It gets easier the more he makes them, going through nearly an entire loaf of bread, each slice of French toast better than the last. Danny plates them carefully, trying not to tip over the stack as he sets them in each family member’s plates. Five plates is a lot, but knowing how many more people are in this family make Danny all the more glad that he’s here to help Alfred.

This is a lot of work for one person. Alfred is definitely magic. There’s no other explanation as to how he’s managed all this time.

Danny gets to work in peace with Alfred for just over an hour before the residents of the manor begin to trickle in. He’s working on carefully cutting strawberries to go with the French toast, keeping his fingers curled just as Alfred instructed so he doesn’t accidentally cut them off.

It’s strange being the only thing in the kitchen that can hurt himself. None of the food comes to alive and tries to attack him, nor are there stray experimental weapons lying around ready to be set off as soon as he gets close.

Tim enters the kitchen silently with Cass by his side. Somehow, Tim already has a cup of coffee in hand. They both greet Alfred, then Danny, and Danny does his very best not to look too nervous in front of Cass.

Dick cartwheels into the kitchen two minutes after them, and Danny applauds him when he gives an exaggerated bow.

Damian follows, a cat trailing after him, and Bruce is the last to arrive.

They all settle at the table, quietly talking or trying to get a little more rest as they sit with their eyes closed. He feels awkward trying to navigate around this commonplace family moment, an outsider who suddenly forced his way in.

Each person he sets a plate in front of thanks him quietly, though Damian does so with some hesitancy and clear distrust. Alfred follows with cups of water or juice, then sets out syrup with a warning “not to cause another Incident.”

“You will get used to this in no time,” Alfred reassures him as they walk away from the table to get started on washing dishes. “There’s no rush.”

“If you say so,” Danny replies, twisting his hands in an attempt to get rid of some of his restlessness.

“Now, what do you feel like eating?”

He honestly doesn’t feel hungry at all. Not with how much he ate yesterday. “Nothing. I can wait until lunch.”

“That won’t do at all.”

“I really don’t think I can eat anything right now,” Danny says, “But I’ll probably have a bit of an appetite in the afternoon.”

“At least have some tea,” Alfred insists, and it sounds like a good idea, so Danny agrees and listens to Alfred talk about the different temperatures needed to brew different teas, as well as what can be added to certain types of tea but not others. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other, but Danny’s sure he’ll appreciate all this knowledge later once he’s expected to make tea alongside his other butler duties.

The first task that he’s given, without having to ask for it, is to fetch a mug, a teapot, and a tin of tea leaves. It takes some searching through the drawers and cupboards to find everything, but Danny manages to gather everything just as Alfred finishes washing the dishes.

With nothing else to do but watch as Alfred prepares tea, Danny sits on one of the bar stools, trying not to fidget too much as he listens to the Wayne family move at the table.

They’re all so quiet. No one speaks as they eat and it’s almost like they’re not there.

It’s so quiet, in fact, that when Tim pushes himself up from his chair, making it skid back across the floor loudly, Danny flinches.

He’s tired of being so jumpy and on edge all the time. The sudden surge of adrenaline that hit him leaves his heart stuck in his throat and his lungs stuttering around every breath. He’s better than this, he knows he is, but after all he’s gone through over the past few months, Danny can’t help it.

“Hey,” Tim says as he passes by, setting his empty coffee mug into the sink after rinsing it out.

Behind him, Danny can hear the rest of the Wayne family finish up their breakfast, standing and gathering empty plates. He manages to keep perfectly still this time, acting normal as they pass by and leave to get ready for their day.

Tim doesn’t leave. He hops up onto the bar stool beside Danny and rests his elbows on the counter with his arms folded, hands dangling above his lap. “Sleep well?” he asks, voice still rough with sleep.

“Yeah,” Danny says, “You?” Tim looks worse than yesterday, somehow. The bags under his eyes are dark enough to look like bruises and his eyes are slightly glazed over from exhaustion.

He shrugs. “Some. Only a few hours. Managed to fall asleep around… three in the morning?”

“How are you awake right now?”

“It’s not a big deal,” Tim says, “Comes with insomnia, I guess. Hard to fall asleep and harder to stay asleep.”

“If you say so,” Danny replies, feeling his concern for Tim rise with every word he says. Danny never got this bad, even during the worst of the ghost attacks that left him flying around Amity Park late at night with unfinished homework waiting for him in his room.

Alfred sets a cup of lightly steaming tea in front of Danny, but his eyes are fixed on Tim. “Master Timothy,” he says, disapprovingly, and Danny knows it’s bad since that’s the first time he’s heard Alfred full name Tim..

Tim wilts where he sits. “I know, Alfred. I’ll get more sleep on the weekend, promise.”

Bruce clears his throat, cutting off the conversation about Tim’s unhealthy sleep habits. Danny flinches again, his tea spilling over the side of the cup just slightly.

When did Bruce appear behind him? Danny didn’t hear him at all, had no idea he was there until he let his presence be known.

The last time someone snuck up on him like that—

Well, it’s best not to think about his parents. Nothing good will come of it.

“Danny,” he says, moving around to be in Danny’s line of sight instead of standing behind him. “We’ve gotten your paperwork sorted out. Would you like to check over them in my study or here?”

“Here,” Danny answers immediately. Bruce’s study felt too… formal. There’s too much pressure put on him in there and he feels more out of place there than anywhere else in the manor. The kitchen, in comparison, is safer. Warmer. More casual and familiar.

“Alright. Tim, would you mind running up to grab everything?”

Tim gives Bruce a lazy salute, hopping off the bar stool and leaving the kitchen without another word. Bruce sits beside Danny in the newly unoccupied stool, moving carefully so he never gets into Danny’s space.

He’s very considerate and far too observant. With how quiet and sneaky the entire family is, Danny isn’t sure if it’s a good sign or proof of something that will hurt him later on.

He sips on his tea to avoid looking at or talking to Bruce. Alfred returns to washing the rest of the dishes and Danny focuses on that, listening to the running water and the sound of dishes clinking against each other.

It feels like barely a few minutes before Tim returns, somehow crossing the distance between the kitchen and Bruce’s study on the second floor quickly without being out of breath. In his hands is a black folder, which apparently holds Danny’s new life.

“You stole my seat,” he says as he drops the folder onto the counter.

“It was open.”

“I was sitting there.”

Bruce shrugs, the small quirk of his lips the only thing revealing his amusement. “Not anymore.”

Tim glares at him, then leans against the counter, sprawling into Bruce’s space. He’s practically lying on top of the counter, shoving Bruce’s arms out of the way to make himself comfortable. “Look those over,” Tim says, tapping the folder.

“We’ll fix anything you want changed,” Bruce adds when Danny makes no move to grab it. He even helpfully moves it closer to Danny.

Slowly, Danny opens it. Papers fill both sides and he can see some square lumps hidden in the pockets. He carefully pulls those out first, finding a credit card and a debit card, which. Holy shit. He’s going to freak out about that later; there’s still an entire folder left to shock him.

The first few papers are simple. Information about his new identity, under the name of Danny Jameson. Yes, it is his first name and a modified version of his middle name. No, it’s not a very good fake name but Danny was stressed and tired and didn’t want to think about it for too long. Now it’s his name and he’ll have to live with it, so it’s a good thing he’s already familiar with it.

The next few papers hold his social security information, health insurance, the works. All of it means nothing to him, but he appreciates the effort they put into this!

He’s a little concerned about how quickly they got so much done, but he appreciates it!

The words blur together as he flips through the pages. The only thing that he needs left is an ID and Tim wants to be the one taking his picture, so he’ll just wait until Tim brings it up.

“It all looks good,” Danny says, trying to hide as much of his confusion as possible.”

“We can always change it later,” Bruce reassures. “Now, why don’t you take a look at that last document, stating you job position and salary?”

He helpfully pulls it out of the folder where it had been stuck to the back of another paper, making Danny miss it completely.

It doesn’t have as much written on it as the other documents. Words only fill half the paper and everything is in short phrases or bullet points, contained in little boxes to make finding information easier.

His official title is Apprentice (Butler). There are no formal work hours as he’s on call and the small description of his duties reads: Attend to the manor and its inhabitants while learning the ways of a butler. Apparently, he has unlimited sick leave and vacation is negotiated with a month guaranteed.

All this sounds pretty good up until he sees what his salary is. The fact that he would be getting that much monthly…

“Mr. Wayne,” Danny says, very calmly.

“Please, just call me Bruce!” he says with a grin.

“Mr. Wayne,” Danny stresses, “Remove some of these zeroes or I am leaving Gotham to find work somewhere else.”

Tim leans over to get a look, then turns to Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce is unrepentant. “I will remove one zero but I will move your planned pay raise forward by half a year. And I’ve already put one month’s pay into your bank account so you can buy what you need when Dick takes you shopping later.”

“A pay raise?! Actually, hold on, since when am I going shopping?”

“Since… now? You need clothes. And whatever else you want to buy. It’s your money now.”

Danny turns to Tim. “Help.”

“This is actually the best you’ll get,” Tim says unhelpfully, “The fact that he actually agreed to take off a zero means he really doesn’t want to scare you away.”

“I would be quite cross if he did,” Alfred interjects. “Do drink your tea, Danny.”

Danny knocks back the rest of his tea and says, “I understand you are slightly out of touch with reality as all rich people are, but this is ridiculous. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“You saved Alfred.” All of a sudden, Bruce’s voice is serious. There’s an intensity about him that was hidden before, something that screams both danger and protection. Something almost more than human. “You saved Alfred. You don’t need to do a single thing here and I would still give all this to you.”

“But…” Danny trails off, trying to swallow around the lump in his throat. “I just wanted to help.”

“So allow us to help you, now, Danny.” Alfred takes his cup out of his hands and sets it on the counter. He places his hands on Danny’s shoulders, holding him steady, and says, “We know you are in a difficult situation and have no one else to turn to. We know you are a good person who deserves to be safe and happy. Allow us to help you as much as we can.”

And what can he say to that?

Nothing, apparently, because he’s two seconds away from crying. He leans into Alfred’s hold and nods, just slightly, and tries to blink back his tears.

“Very good,” Alfred smiles. “I do think it’s time for you to go shopping. Take today to gather everything you need. I can begin teaching you what to do tomorrow.”

“Okay. And… thanks.” He can’t quite make eye contact with anyone, but Alfred pats his shoulder before moving away and Bruce ruffle his hair.

Tim straightens up, pushing himself off the counter, and rounds it to be by Danny’s side. “Let’s go bother Dick into getting ready to take you shopping.”

Danny stands, clumsily shuffling the papers into order and shoving them back into the folder. Bruce takes it before he can worry about what to do with it, and sends him off with Tim.

“Are you coming with us?” he asks as he’s lead up the staircase and down the hallways to the family wing.

“Huh?”

“Are you coming with us? When we go shopping?”

“Oh, no. I need to do some work today. Mostly just meetings, but I can’t skip out or Tam might actually kill me.”

“Tam?”

“My personal assistant,” Tim answers, like this is normal.

Danny starts to wonder if Tim really is close to him in age. It seems like it, but it also sounds like he has a legit job (with a personal assistant!) and is not in school. Did he already graduate college? Is he actually 30 years old and stuck with an insane babyface?

It feels rude to ask, so he doesn’t, but he can’t help but wonder.

“Okay,” he says. There’s really nothing else he can say.

“Don’t worry, though. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Dick is great! He’ll keep you safe.”

Safe from what, Tim doesn’t say, and Danny decides to just not question anything else during the day. It’s happening whether he understands it or not, so better to not worry about it. The key to being stress free is to not care and vibe. He can totally keep his cool. Not a problem at all.

How bad can one shopping trip be?

(“Are you planning on enrolling him in school, Master Bruce?”

Bruce sighs, running a hand through his hair. “If he agrees to it. I can’t ask anything yet, not until I find out more about where he was and who had him. I don’t want him out there on his own when someone could be looking for him.”

“He must have been held captive for quite a long time to be so unfamiliar with the world.”

“I’ve only seen this sort of thing with labs and cults. I’m not sure yet which one he came from, but neither are good.”

“Once you do find them,” Alfred says, rather calmly, though the steel in his eyes tells another story, “Do give them hell. If you do not, I shall.”

“I’m half tempted to set you loose on them,” Bruce jokes tiredly.

“I’ll keep my shotgun ready. Just say the word, Master Bruce. I will ensure no one touches another hair on Danny’s head.”

“We’ll all keep him safe, Alfred. And he’ll be here with us from now on, anyways.”

“So long as he doesn’t run off into the night to be a vigilante,” Alfred says, “Lord knows we’ve seen that happen too often.”

Bruce sighs. “Well. There’s hope for him yet. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the normal one in the family.”

“I would certainly like that more than sending another child into danger,” Alfred agrees. He has never been able to stop this family before, but perhaps he will be able to save Danny from the dangers of their nightlife. Danny may be the only one he saves, in fact, but Alfred still has that chance.

He intends to make the most of it.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc fanfic #alfred's apprentice au #butler danny au #my writing #fic #i PROMISE next chapter will have actual butler danny. im fr done w set up now. except the shopping trip #its fine i'll figure it out i'll add anothr chapter #dont worry abt it i know what im doing

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