#delilah stand up im begging | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pitaparka · 4 years

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lock, stock, and barrel

summary: your dog locks you out of your car. the locksmith who shows up to let her out? is kinda hot

pairings: scott lang x reader

word count: 1.7k

warnings: you have a big dumbass dog (but a cute dumbass) and your dad is your wingman (and if you dont have a dad im ur dad now have you taken your meds today? wanna go fishing?)

a/n: this is based off of a tiktok i found, which you can watch here (x) nobody requested this but i love scott so much. big love.

A van pulls up to the house, and parks in front of the driveway. It’s repurposed, definitely, with the words “X-Con Security Consultants” lovingly (read: clumsily) painted (read: scrawled) onto the side.

“That’s Hank Pym’s kid,” your father says to your mother, and she scoffs.

“No he’s not, he's the intern boy,” she argues, but you don’t care who’s son he is or if he’s interning. He’s beautiful. He has a wide smile on his face as he makes his way from his sketchy van with a bag of tools in hand.

“Scott!” Your father greets, leaving your mother to grumble amongst herself about the man’s origins.

“Hey! Morning, sir!” Scott calls back, and your father gives him a firm handshake. Your father doesn’t notice the pain in Scott’s eyes when he does this, but you do, and you like him immediately for it.

Your father leads the conversation as he guides him over to your car, you shamefully stand by the passenger side, treats and toys in hand. You come around to greet them both.

“—it’s good for extra cash since our expertise is locks and security,” Scott finishes, and your dad listens with intense curiosity.

“Tell Pym I said hi,” he says, before noticing you.

“Ah, Scott, here’s the culprit,” he says, leading him over to you.

“Technically, Delilah is the culprit, dad,” you complain, and he scoffs a little.

“Who locked her in there?” he says playfully, and you gasp.

“She did!” you say, laughing, and there are smiles all around.

“Hi,” you say, introducing yourself, and Scott holds out a hand for you.

“I’m Scott,” he says, and you notice his hands are firm and soft, “I’m here to save your dog. And also your car.”

You smirk, “Thank you.”

You notice he smiles a lot, which is not something you mind. He places a small work bag down on the ground near your driver’s side. He bends his neck at awkward angles to try and make out where your buttons are through your tinted windows.

“Tell him what happened,” your dad encourages, crossing his arms with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, though it doesn’t apply to this situation.

“I put her in my car to take her on a ride, and I was walking around the other side to get in, and she hit the lock button,” you say sheepishly, staring at Delilah.

Your father laughs and shakes his head, telling you to call him if you needed anything, returning inside to catch the rest of the baseball game for a team he couldn’t care less about.

“It happens to the best of us. She’s really cute,” he says encouragingly, and you smile, because she’s not the only cute one in your general vicinity.

“Hi Delilah!” He coos, and she barks at him.

“Delilah, no,” your mother scolds, and she stares at you from the passenger seat with her tongue out.

“Well, I see how it is,” he mutters, and you laugh. He looks back at you when you do and you notice the light on his hair and how he squints just a little bit when he smiles. He turns back to your car, and works a car door wedge into the window of the driver’s side door. His focus is intense.

“Where you guys headed?” He asks, budging the wedge in and turning a crank on the side.

“We were just going on a ride. I kinda wanted to take her to get Starbucks, but now I’m not sure she deserves it,” you say, crossing your arms, knowing full well Delilah would get her puppuccino anyway.

“Aw, of course she does,” he says, looking at her panting at him through the glass.

“Isn’t that right, Delilah?” He says. She pays no attention to him. But it’s okay. You’re paying enough attention for the both of you.

“She has beautiful eyes,” he muses, and you hum in agreement.

“You have really nice eyes too,” you compliment accidentally, and you can feel the heat on your face as you try to play it off.

“Thank you,” he says, and you note his smile in the reflection of your car window as he falters with the wedge and the crank.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you say, and he stops.

“Uh, sure,” he says. He kneels down in your driveway to look for something in the small bag of tools he brought with him.

“I think we have coke? And orange juice probably, unless you want like, a water or something,” you say, and he accepts the water offer.

You turn to leave, but your mom is already halfway in the house.

“I can go get it,” your mom says, throwing you a smile over her shoulder.

You’re stuck in an awkward silence for a few minutes as he wiggles and pushes and tinkers with wires through your window. He pulls out a malleable wire and shoves it through the window wedge. You watch him work, with precise hands and concentration plastered on his face. But soon enough, with persistence and skill, Scott unlocks your car from the inside, carefully removes the car door wedge, and subsequently frees your poor pooch from her automated prison.

He opens the door, and Delilah moves to the driver’s side to smell Scott. She jumps out of the car and starts sniffing around him, her leash hanging limply on the ground.

You retrieve it and let Delilah do her thing.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as he crouches down to say hello to your pup.

“Ah, it’s no problem,” he says, and begins speaking to Delilah in a baby voice, “especially when I meet cute puppies like you, yes I do, yes I do!”

Delilah is loving the attention, and she smiles as he pets her behind the ears. You give her butt a few taps and go to speak to Scott again, but your mom returns from the kitchen.

“I cut up some fruit for you guys,” she informs, like you two were best friends having a sleepover. She balances two cold bottles of water, and, sure enough, a plate of fruit she stole from a platter sitting in your fridge.

“Mom,” you whine a little, and your dad follows soon after, in pursuit of the fruit.

“I’m alright, ma’am. Thank you though.”

Your mom yells your dad’s name in the direction of the front door, clearly not seeing him behind her. He steals a chunk of fruit off the platter and complains, “I’m right here, woman,”

“Oh,” she says, laughing in your direction, before she informs him Scott had gotten Delilah out.

“Someone had to,” he grumbles, and he runs back inside to grab his wallet.

You watch as Scott stands and grabs his bag, smiling at Delilah and turning to return the stuff to his van. Delilah decides to follow him.

“Delilah, please,” you beg, and she stops pulling on her leash, sitting like a good girl. You watch as he puts some things in his truck, fiddling with something in there, before you realize you’re staring.

You open your driver’s side door, letting Delilah hop in that way instead, and climb in after her, bumping her off your seat. You stare at her intently. She smiles back, none the wiser.

“You, are going to be the death of me,” you assure her, and you're startled by a knock at your window.

You expect Scott, but it’s your dad. You roll down your window.

“I asked specifically for Scott,” he assures, and smiles at you.

“Dad,” you groan, head thumping your headrest. You sigh.

“Don’t be weird,” you plead, and he scoffs.

“When have I ever been weird?” He asks, followed by, “Don’t answer that.”

You absentmindedly pet Delilah.

“You want his number?” he asks, credit card in hand. You turn in your seat to look at Scott. He’s walking around to the other side of his van for something.

“Not from you!” you muse, and that’s all your dad has to hear, grinning in triumph.

“Dad!” you whisper harshly, “Don’t be weird!”

“I won’t!” he says, mocking your raspy whisper.

You watch in your rear-view mirror as your dad goes up to Scott and hands him his credit card. Some words are exchanged, and then your mother goes up to him too. You decide you can’t watch anymore, and you hide your face in Delilah’s fur.

“Delilah, what are we gonna do?” you say, and her ears perk up, because in her mind, you two are going to Starbucks for puppuccinos.

“Not that, Delilah. Scott is so cute,” you inform her. She already knows, her eyes tell you, and you look back over at them.

Scott is smiling at your car. He sees your face, and he waves, causing your parents to look over at you. You blush, and wave back at him. Your dad sends you a signal, but you don’t know what it means, and your mom’s exaggerated wink is overkill.

You sigh and check your phone. No alerts, alarms, or notifications to take your mind off of the situation.

You hear Scott’s truck start up, and he pulls away as easily as he pulled in, and that’s that. Just another candle in the wind, a cute guy you’d never see again. But apparently, your parents had other plans.

Pulling out of the Starbucks drive-thru, you pull into a parking spot to let Delilah enjoy her cup of whipped cream. You take a sip of your icy beverage, and you hear your phone ding. Checking your notifications, you realize it’s from an unknown number, and your heart jumps thinking who it could be.

Opening your phone, Delilah whines in anticipation for the whipped cream in the Starbucks cup in the holder.

“Hang on, ‘Lilah,” you say and you open your phone to read the message.

did delilah get her puppuccino?

You smile at the text, and move to take a picture while you let Delilah go to town on her treat. Your phone chimes again and you hold the cup with one hand, skillfully checking your messages with the other.

it’s scott by the way. didn’t know if you could tell.

You text back Delilah’s picture. You could tell it was Scott.

“Delilah,” you say, “thank you so much for locking my door. You’re such a good girl,”

She knows. She decides to accept her payment in puppuccinos from now on.

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sinfvls · 4 years

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hey all you cool cats and kittens ! it’s carole desi from big cat rescue and i’m here to deliver a tubular trio to this glorious group. i’ve been on the hunt for a solid supernatural rp for idk how long and i’m so stoked to find a home in bloodshq & begin writing / plotting with every single one of you ! admittedly, their backgrounds are pretty underwhelming because they’re all new muses ( lord help me ) and i’m still getting a feel for them, and i have just a few wanted connections up for grabs listed at the end of each of their blurbs, so if you see any that strike your interest please feel free to slide into my ims ( but i’m also super open to anything, so feel free to hit me with your ideas too ! ) & now without further ado, i give you DAMON BELMONT , NICHOLAS SPENCER & VERONA ADLER.

damon belmont has been seen walking the seattle streets. the werewolf has been in town for one week, and are known to be aloof but also very loyal. the thirty seven year old is the vice president of the mongrels motorcycle club. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble charlie hunnam. their pronouns are he/him. damon’s werewolf gene is triggered.

statistics & connections

doesn’t know who his parents are / were. he was found abandoned in the woods of hayfork, california as a wee babe by a pair of hikers. tossed into the social system, he hopped from foster home to foster home, until finally sticking with a woman named delilah belmont, who eventually opted to adopt him.

she lived off the grid, in the backwoods, where she fended for herself by hunting for meat, growing her own produce, and even tended to livestock. damon thrived in this lifestyle, learning how to survive in the wilderness. he didn’t go to public school. instead, he was homeschooled by delilah, who taught him only what she valued to be of great importance. she wasn’t gonna raise no soft, yellowbelly who couldn’t fend for himself.

however, one day while out hunting, the two were attacked by a grizzly bear and it mauled delilah nearly to death before damon put a few rounds of bullets into it. there was no saving her, and she knew it. instead, she begged damon to end the pain. out of mercy, he killed her, and thus triggered the werewolf gene he didn’t even realize was in him. the confusion he had to deal with alone as a result was heartbreaking. he didn’t understand what he was, seeing himself as a monster whenever there was a full moon to unleash his inner beast. damon thought he was the only one of his kind, until he met a group of mysterious travelers.

the mongrels motorcycle club, what everyone assumed to be a band of criminals. damon first met them at a dive bar in town, where he’d been planning to drink himself into a stupor. they knew what he was immediately and offered him a home; a new family with them. while he had so many unanswered questions, the young werewolf also had nothing to lose, and so he joined the bloodmoon pack and never looked back.

the acceptance and relief from knowing he wasn’t an abomination was overwhelming. never did he think that he would develop such a strong bond with another person, let alone an entire pack of werewolves. the bloodmoon pack has been travelling just about everywhere, stopping in areas to rest before carrying on again, living as vagabonds, and picking up “strays” / other packless werewolves along the way. he’s been with the pack for sixteen years.

( more tba yikes )

wanted connections

bloodmoon pack / mongrels mc members. still need a president, sgt at arms, road captain, enforcer, chaplain, etc. info can be found on the wanted connections page on the main !

soulmate. listen, he’s been around the block and i think it’s safe to say he’d have found his mate by now asdjkhg. she could have already been with the pack when he joined, or joined after him at some point. completely open to plotting all the details. filled by cleo clarke

( more tba maybe sdjhfg )

nicholas “nick” spencer has lived in seattle for twelve years, and are known to be broody but also very altruistic. the twenty one year old human goes to school at seattle university. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble finn cole. their pronouns are he/him. nick is unaware of the supernatural.

statistics & connections

born in los angeles, california to a pair of admirably gifted parents, nicholas spencer lived a fairly privileged first eight years of his life. his mother, a soap opera actress, and his father, a talented chef, gave both nick and his older sister a life full of love and luxury. yes, everything was absolutely perfect in their world. until it wasn’t.

at barely eight years old, nick was violently thrown along with his sister into one of the most traumatic experiences any child could go through; they lost their parents to a fatal car accident. being forced to move to seattle with his sister to live with their aunt, he didn’t fully understand what it meant; he couldn’t properly process what was going on. the pain of his loss was expressed more out of anger, feeling as though their parents abandoned them. and thus, nick’s out of control behavior was born.

suicide mention tw. he struggled in school. his emotions betrayed him. instead of relishing a happy childhood, nick found himself pushing everyone away, getting into fights, sneaking out late at night to run around the city with his friends and get into all sorts of trouble with them. he couldn’t count on his hands how many times the police picked him up and brought him to his aunt’s doorstep. it only got worse once one of his best friends was found dead, written off as a suicide, though it didn’t add up in nick’s eyes and seemed so much more sinister. the young man was nearly deemed to be a lost cause, until he discovered his passion for writing.

language arts or literature was the last thing anyone would ever think to group with nick spencer. he was quite eloquent, sure, but the one thing he always did was play basketball at one of the outdoor courts in seattle. anytime he needed to blow off steam, to contemplate life, or just to shoot hoops, you could always catch him at the court. but his english teacher noticed how well he could articulate his thoughts and feelings on paper, and submitted one of his pieces to a writing contest, which earned nick the win and three thousand dollars as a prize.

bewildered by a talent he hadn’t even realized was in him, nick embraced it. he started writing in a journal ( which he keeps safely tucked away beneath the mattress of his bed ), documenting every feeling and thought as a way to express his emotions in a more productive manner. this talent earned him a full ride scholarship to seattle university, where he’s now a literature major with plans of either becoming an author or perhaps an english teacher, to follow in the footsteps of his high school teacher who he came to idolize.

( more will be added later oop )

wanted connections

his three best friends ( see listed in wanted connections on the main ! )

someone he doesn’t see eye to eye with, maybe opposite in personality or morals. most likely someone he went to high school with or someone who also attends seattle university ( bonus points if they’re supernatural )

some bad folk he may have accidentally gotten mixed up with, either in the past or current ( or both sdfhkjg ). could literally be ANYTHING, maybe he saw something he shouldn’t have, maybe there’s some drug scandal he got mixed up in and now can’t get out of ??

more tba eventually !

verona adler has been seen walking the seattle streets. the fae has been in town for three years, and are known to be restive but also very fervent. the twenty four year old works as a bar & grill waitress. if you tilt your head and look at them in a certain light they might resemble dove cameron. their pronouns are she/her.

statistics & connections

oakdale, louisiana. born and bred. she was raised middle to two brothers, one older and one younger, but was the absolute apple of her mom and dad’s eye, being their only daughter. her family was reputable, as were the strawberry fields they owned. people from all over the state would pay a petty price to pick a few cartons full of the famously juicy adler strawberries.

at a very young age, verona had to learn how to better control her emotions, which is very difficult for a child to understand and do. she was known for glowing tantrums, and levitating when particularly elated over something. however, in due time, the young faerie learned to hide these paramount parts of herself from the world surrounding them, out of fear over the potential backlash of human ignorance.

she’s been very personable her entire life, much like a light in a dark room. excelling in school, she mastered both academics and the social aspect, she was on the school’s yearbook committee as well as the cheerleading squad, and played an active part in her community as best as she could, generally through volunteer work. a true southern belle, through and through.

however, verona was exhausted. she couldn’t stand pretending to be something she wasn’t; hiding her true colors from the world just because the world was deemed to be much too censorious when it came to being different. while she adored her family and friends, she wasn’t being true to herself which left her unhappy behind closed doors. so, at the age of twenty one, she found an ad in the paper for a roommate in seattle and the city was evidently huge in comparison to her small town. the thought of living somewhere that was hopefully more accepting was an absolute dream, so she packed her things and made the move.

she’s been living in seattle for three years now, working at the same bar & grill she started off with as a waitress and she loves it. she loves meeting people that come from all different walks of life, the mixture of humans and supernatural is perfect. though she’s still a little put out by hiding her true self, she enjoys being surrounded by a bigger populace of supernatural beings that she generally doesn’t have to hide around.

( more tba probably ... eventually )

wanted connections

exes / flings / one night stands. her friends calling her a slut is just teasing and gets a laugh out of her, a stranger calling her a slut will put vee in a full on rage, but all in all .... girl gets around. NOT because she’s a sex fiend, but because she loves the idea of being loved, and therefore looks for it in all the wrong places sdfahkfjg.

best friend ( supernatural only pls ! ). she needs someone she can fully open up to without worry of being judged, rant / vent to each other about all the shit in their lives, talk about things they wouldn’t normally be able to talk about in the public, etc. a good wholesome friendship.

someone she annoys / who annoys her / or both. girl is basically a constant ray of sunshine & agonizingly curious / nosy, and that probably presses at least one person. she can’t stand some who’s a grump without a cause & has an insatiable need to pick people apart in order to find out wtf happened to them / the reason why they are the way that they are.

maybe her brother(s) ? i mean, if anyone wanted to pick them up, they’re free to snag !!

more tba later !

#bloods.intro #* 𝙙 . 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙩 ╱ intro .#* 𝙣 . 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro .#* 𝙫 . 𝙖𝙙𝙡𝙚𝙧 ╱ intro .#suicide tw #murder tw #death tw #made individual intro tags thinkin i was gna post individual intros #i played myself

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