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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Ache

Oscar Piastri x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: Leaving you behind makes Oscar’s chest hurt. Sometimes coming home is just as hard. Word Count: 1.9k

a/n: Remember a while ago when I threatened promised Oscar angst? I finally followed through.

Warnings: angst, sexual content minors do not interact!, cockwarming (who am I?)

Oscar stumbles into the apartment as quietly as he can. It’s nearing 3am, and the entire world is asleep, including you. He’s careful with his suitcase, opting to carry it instead of rolling it, trying his best to not make any noise. Somehow, though, when he looks up, he finds you standing in the hallway.

You’re in one of his hoodies, the sleeves hanging over your hands. He’s pretty sure you’re wearing his sweatpants, too, just based on the way they hang low and loose on your hips. He catches sight of a pair of soft pink panties beneath that, ones that would have him absolutely drooling in any other situation. Your hair is a mess, and he winces at the sleepy look on your face.

“You waited up,” he says with a sigh.

You nod and rub at one of your eyes as you fight a yawn. “Missed you.”

Something in his heart breaks at the raw sound of your voice. He knows if he looked hard enough he’d find tear tracks on your cheeks. They’d be his to take the blame for. He left four days ago as you held onto his arm and tried to convince him not to go. He knows you know he didn’t want to leave. That it’s his job, that he had to go. It doesn’t mean the leaving hurts any less.

Now he stands in the hallway of your shared apartment and feels the guilt all over again. He can put it out of his mind most race weekends, too busy and pumped up on adrenaline to really feel it. But he comes home exhausted and finds you like this, and it stabs him in the gut again.

“I missed you too,” he says, quietly. “More than you even understand.”

He winces when he says it, because he’s said it before and gotten varying responses. You insist that it’s easier on him, because he’s busy and having fun, and you’re at home, just waiting for him to come back. The first season of F1 has been hard on you both, an endless push and pull, tug of war. You come to the races when you can, but you have your own life. Oscar doesn’t want to take that away, but…

When he goes to bed alone, in an empty hotel room, and thinks of you on your own, too, it tears him apart.

He’s home now. For two weeks, he’s home. He’s waiting for you to make the first move. Sometimes he comes home and you fling yourself into his arms. Other times you sit on the couch and cry until you fall asleep, and then he carries you to bed. He wishes he knew what to do, how to fix it. He’s gone as far to ask Lando for advice- his teammate just smiled sadly at him, squeezed his upper arm, and admitted he was the worst person to ask.

You rub your cheek softly with your fingers. Oscar’s hand twitches. He wants to reach out and cup your face himself. The sweatpants you’re wearing slip down your hip, and you let them fall. He swallows tightly.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re not sorry.”

His eyes flicker up to the ceiling. His head hurts, right along with his chest.

“I don’t want you to be sorry, Osc,” you say. “I know you can’t change it. I just…”

He nods. “I know. I’m not sorry I was gone. But I am sorry that I hurt you so much when I leave.”

Those seem to be the magic words tonight. You stumble across the gap between the two of you and nearly tackle him with the force of your hug. He lets out a noise between a laugh and a sob. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face in the top of your head, breathes you in and lets the feeling wash over him. The weight of you soothes the ache in his chest just a little bit.

He starts to shuffle the two of you towards the bedroom, step by precarious step. He’s unwilling to let go of you, because he knows if he does you’ll start crying and that pain will be back in his heart. He carefully dodges the piles of clothes on the bedroom floor, and the two of you fall onto the bed with soft groans. He collapses on top of you. The weight of the world is on his shoulders. It feels better when he rests against you.

You reach up and run your hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I was such a baby when you left.”

He groans into the crook of your neck. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

He really does want to talk about it, because it hurts to leave and he knows it hurts you, too, but the way you beg him to stay makes it a million times worse. He’s torn, because he doesn’t want you to stop telling him how you feel, but the weight of your anxiety over his absence is so heavy on his chest every time.

But right now he’s here, and he’s laying on top of you, and this is all he’s wanted for days. Since the second he left the apartment, he’s been dreaming about this. He doesn’t want to ruin it with a difficult conversation.

You nod. He sighs again and rubs his nose against your jaw, presses a soft kiss to your pulse point. You sigh in response.

Daniel said it gets easier- the leaving, the distance. He also made a reference to money making it easier, to the idea that maybe eventually, you won’t feel the need to work and that you could just travel with Oscar. He wonders if that’s something you’d ever want. If you’d give up the other parts of your life, the independence, just to avoid saying goodbye. God knows he loves to have you within arms reach, attached at the hip, but he doesn’t want it to be at the cost of who you are, all the things he loves and admires about you.

He wonders if there’s a reasonable solution, a compromise in the middle, one that doesn’t leave him feeling so disconnected. The video calls aren’t enough- just a reminder of the distance when he sees the sun low in the sky in your background while he still has half a day ahead of him. The voicemails he listens to after he misses your calls sting like needle pricks on fingertips. There has to be a fix. Something he can do to make it better. He’s scared you won’t be able to go on like this forever.

The hoodie you’re wearing smells like him, but your perfume and shampoo overpower the scent. You kiss his temple and he groans at the feeling, the soft press of your lips against his skin. He pushes himself up so he can reach your lips with his. He kisses you hungrily, in a way that he hopes shows how much he aches for this every second he’s gone.

You meet him eagerly, lips insistent against his. When he swipes his tongue against the seam of your mouth, you open up for him, hands dragging down his shoulders as he sighs into your mouth. He’s exhausted, too tired to make it any good, but he still finds himself rolling his hips against yours, just to feel you, just to feel something. You laugh when he bites at your lower lip, and you wrap one leg around his waist and grind upwards in a way that makes him let out a whine.

“You’re too sleepy,” you say when you break away, even as your hand is brushing over the front of his pants.

He nods, chest heaving as he mouths at your jaw. “Mhm. But I- I wanna be close. I need-“

“Yeah,” you agree. He nips at the hinge of your jaw and you throw your head back. “Please?”

The sweatpants slip easily down your hips, barely hanging on. He tugs your panties off with exhaustion-shaky hands as you shove at his own pants. He doesn’t bother pulling them all the way off, doesn’t bother getting your hoodie off, doesn’t bother with anything other than you. He slips his fingers through the wetness between your thighs, just to make sure you're ready, and groans at the feeling, at the way you arch your hips against his hand. He can’t hold back, then, can’t wait any longer. You sigh happily when he slips the head of his cock into you, and he groans into your shoulder as he pushes all the way in.

This is coming home. This is safe and warm and right where he belongs. You’re the reason he’ll never quite feel comfortable in another country, another city, another empty hotel bed. He could cry with the way the weight falls off his shoulders, the way his headache and chest pain melt away. It’s not about sex. He doesn’t even move. He just buries himself inside you, buries his face in the curve of your neck, and breathes in.

“I miss you all the time,” he tells you, hoping he can find the right words this time, the ones that make it all okay. “Every second I’m not here.”

“I know,” you say into his shoulder. “I do, too.”

He’d carry you around in his pocket if he could. But he loves the way you light up when you talk about your friends, too, or when you tell him a story about work. He won’t ask you to change who you are for him. He just needs to find a way to fit your lives back together, in a way that makes some sort of sense. He’ll figure it out.

“We’ll figure this out,” he says, eyelids feeling heavy, lips against your skin. “You and I. We’ll figure it out.”

“I know,” you say softly.

He wonders if you believe him, or if the ache is too strong right now. He’ll believe it enough for the both of you if he has to. The two of you will figure it out. He won’t accept any other possible option.

“I love you,” you say against his temple, sleep coating your voice. “So much. And I’m so proud of you.”

The last of the tension in his body melts away. Sleep is creeping up his spine. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes- tears of exhaustion and frustration and all the emotions of coming home to you.

“I love you,” he answers, closing his eyes, teetering on the edge of sleep. “More than anything, I love you.”

He falls asleep like that, face buried in your skin, with you wrapped around him in every way possible. In the morning, when the sun rises, you brush your lips against his forehead and apologize, and promise to be nicer the next time he has to leave. He tells you the truth- that he understands, that he wishes he didn’t have to go, that he wants you there with him all the time. There’s no good solution, at least not at that moment. But for now, it’ll be enough. It has to be.

He clings to you the whole time he’s home and tries not to dread the day he has to pry himself out of your grip. Then, he tries not to imagine a day where you’re not there begging him to stay. He knows which one would be worse. So when he kisses you goodbye to head for another race, when he lets go of your hand, he decides he can live with the ache in his chest and the guilt in his gut. It’s better to hate leaving you than to not have you there to leave. It’ll get easier, eventually. He’ll figure it out. He has to.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

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jgracie · 2 months

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LOVER’S ROCK — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF PERSEPHONE

masterlist | rules

❝ could you write headcanons of percy x daughter of hades (or persephone) reader? ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of persephone

pairing percy jackson x persephone!reader

warnings none !

on the radio . . . lover's rock (tv girl)

an au where technology doesn't attract monsters! also i like to think that the cabins are magical and can alter depending on how many kids are in there so you have a big bed instead of a bunk

If there’s one thing Percy’s sick and tired of, it’s quests. For some reason, he seemed to be a quest magnet, never failing to end up on one at least once a year

After defeating Gaia, he thought this’d be it. No more quests. He could finally relax and focus on normal teenage boy things, like stressing over exams and skateboarding

He was, of course, wrong. As the summer flowers withered and turned into autumn leaves, Percy was ready to take on his senior year of high school. He packed all his belongings into his suitcase, excited to leave camp and head home to his mother, step-father and half-sister, when a certain someone stopped him

Nico Di Angelo, son of Hades. He didn’t come up to the mortal world often, opting to stay in his father’s domain, so seeing him was a shock. Still, Percy waved at him. Nico was a good guy and his friend, so he was always happy during the rare occasions the boy visited

When Nico explained the situation he was in, Percy couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. He was so close to experiencing a normal life! Apparently, Hades himself had requested his presence at the Underworld, having an important task for him

Percy didn’t care for Hades, but the look on Nico’s face told him this was something really important. Nico rarely asked for favours unless he seriously needed them, so he decided to do this for him, not Hades or the Fates or anyone else

Holding back a sigh, Percy put his hand on Nico’s shoulder, ready to shadow-travel to the Underworld

“Perseus Jackson!” He heard a voice boom as soon as they arrived. Looking up, Percy found himself face-to-face with the God of the dead himself. Next to him sat his wife, Persephone, who gave Percy a kind smile

“I have a very important job for you, boy,” Hades began, “don’t worry, I won’t be too long. You see, my dear wife here would like you to escort her daughter to the mortal world and train her. I think she’s around your age. Actually, where is she?” Hades said. Percy rolled his eyes. Great, he was stuck doing guard duty for some random immortal

He immediately took back all his complaints the moment he laid eyes on you. From the way you seemed to bring the land of the dead back to life, Percy could tell you were your mother’s daughter. He could also tell that you were a demigod, as your eyes seemed to lack the boredom most immortal beings’ had

Making your way over to him, you held out a hand, which he gladly shook, “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Perseus.” Percy hated it when people called him by his full name, deeming it too formal for him, but he’d let you call him Perseus for as long as you wanted

After that, it was settled. Turns out, you’d actually spent time in the mortal world before, only occasionally visiting your mother whenever she got lonely in the Underworld

However, your mortal parent didn’t want you engaging with your Godly heritage in fear of all the dangers that came with it, hence why you weren’t at Camp Half-Blood, and why Persephone took matters into her own hands

As you told Percy all of this, he couldn’t help but feel uncharacteristically shy. You radiated regality, but not in a scary way like a child of the big three. Your voice held power, but at the same time seemed to seep out of your lips like honey, coating him and rendering him helpless

Despite being in one of the busiest cities in the world, Percy was only able to hear you. When you finally got to your mortal parent’s apartment, he couldn’t help but be a little disappointed, wanting to spend more time with you

Sure, you were going to be going to his house the next day to begin your training, but Percy couldn’t wait a whole 24 hours

After dropping you off, Percy walked home alone, already daydreaming about what the following day held

The next day, you got ready and headed for Percy’s home (please don’t ask me how you know where to go you just Do), your nerves skyrocketing. You see, this was your first time hanging out with a fellow demigod, and so you really didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself

Since your mom did teach you whenever the two of you saw each other, you were pretty good at using your powers. However, you weren’t on the level of a demigod who’d spent their whole life fighting real monsters

“Okay, first, we have to work on your posture,” Percy said. The night before, he’d turned the living room into a training arena of sorts, moving all the couches, tables and any other furniture to the side. It wasn’t ideal, but it’d work until you found some other place to train or went to Camp Half-Blood during the holidays

You held the sword - a gift from Persephone a couple years back, one you had no use for until now - in front of you, unsure what to do, “like this?” Percy smiled fondly at you, remembering what it was like for him as a beginner

Stepping behind you, Percy guided your arms to the right starting position. He was really close to you. From this (minimal) distance, you could hear his breaths and smell the salty scent of the ocean that seemed to linger on him no matter what he did

The two of you stayed in this stance for a little bit, neither one of you wanting to pull away, before you cleared your throat and said, “okay, what now?”

Nothing much happened after that. You sparred a little, not stopping your training until you managed to land a hit on Percy, which you proudly celebrated. The moment he saw the look of triumph on your face, Percy knew he’d made the right decision by loosening up a little. You’d learn some other day

You were meant to go home afterwards, but his mother had insisted you have some refreshments, so you stayed to drink some lemonade and eat some of her freshly baked cookies. After that, Percy wanted to show you his room, so you stayed to see it. Then, he wanted to play Mario Kart, which needed a second player and you happened to be there so…?

Soon enough, it was nighttime and you actually needed to go. Your mortal parent had begrudgingly agreed to this and you really didn’t want them to change their mind

Since it was late, Percy did the chivalrous thing to do - he walked you home

Once you were there, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of deja vu. This was the second day in a row he was in this exact situation

This time, though, before you entered the apartment, you gave him a kiss on the cheek

After that day, you quickly became inseparable. You’d go over to each other’s places a lot, but not just to train - a lot of the time, it’d just be to hang out, maybe work on some exam prep together or beat him in Mario Kart (again)

With Percy, the school year flew by, and soon enough you’d graduated. Usually, during the summer, you’d just stay with your mortal parent, since Persephone wasn’t in the Underworld. However, this summer would be your first at Camp Half-Blood

Mrs Jackson dropped the two of you off at camp borders and to say you were excited would be an understatement. Percy spoke very highly of this place, and you couldn’t wait to experience it all

At your arrival, you were greeted by Chiron and Mr D, who gave you a basic summary of how things work at camp, relieved they didn’t have to break the existence of Greek Gods to another young camper. After that, Percy gave you a tour of the place

“This is my cabin, feel free to pass by if you need anything. I’m usually the only one here, but my brother Tyson comes to visit occasionally,” Percy said, presenting the cabin to you. It was gorgeous, just like him

Marvelling at it, you said, “yours is really cool, Perce, is mine that nice too?”

Noticing his silence, you turned to look at Percy, who was deep in thought, “now that you’ve mentioned it, I don’t think I’ve seen yours, not clearly at least. It gets busy really quickly here. I’m sure it’s awesome though, let’s go find out!”

The cabins looked close together from afar, but they were pretty widely spaced, and the walk from Percy’s to yours felt like an eternity. Getting there was all worth it though

As you stared up at your cabin, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through your body. Your whole life, you’d been in a limbo, stuck between two homes but somehow feeling homesick in both. From the moment you saw this cabin, you knew it was where you belonged

Percy walked you up the steps, and you couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, “we always end up like this, don’t we, Percy?”

The boy smiled, shyly running his fingers through his hair, “we sure do! Look, I’ll come over later and we can go swimming, the beach here’s beautiful. I’ll introduce you to all my friends, too!”

You unpacked your suitcases and put all your clothes in the closet that was provided. The cabin was clearly uninhabited as dust coated the tops of all the cabinets, but that’s nothing a little spring cleaning wouldn’t fix

Picking out a vinyl record from your large collection, you put one on and began cleaning

It was hard work, but you loved it. Your mother was the Goddess of springtime, after all. The act of decluttering and freshening up a space was named after her domain

Besides, you had a lot of fun discovering the things your mother left behind for you - a basket of fresh fruits, a lovely handwritten letter and a cute dress, which you gladly wore after washing all the grime from cleaning off of yourself

In fact, you had so much fun, you completely forgot about the plans you made with Percy. So, when he showed up at your front door, clad in fish patterned swimming trunks with a surfboard in hand, he caught you off guard for a second

You caught him off guard too. You looked ethereal in that dress. Something about it made your skin glow and your eyes glitter, as if it were woven by Athena herself

“Oh Gods, Percy, I’m so sorry. I got so busy with cleaning this place I completely forgot you said we were gonna go swimming. I’ll go change right now, don’t worry–”

Percy interrupted you, “it’s alright, I get it. I had to deep clean my cabin when I first got here too.”

Seeing as he was already there, you invited Percy in, excited to show him your new home. He wasn’t paying that much attention to your impromptu tour though, too busy admiring you to care about the designs on the wood of your closet

Your tour ended with your bedroom. You took Percy by the hand and led him to your bed, pulling him to you as you landed on the pomegranate patterned bedsheets

In the background, your vinyl continued to play. Of course, the song playing happened to be a love song. As you stared into the cerulean of Percy’s eyes, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming love swell in your chest for him. This boy had changed your life in a way you’d be eternally grateful for

The song progressed, and your faces got closer and closer. As it reached your favourite part, a part Percy knew all too well after the many days you spent making him listen to this song, your lips locked

They were a perfect fit

Dating hcs time hurray!!! (cynthia try not to write 5 pages of backstory challenge)

Percy always gets you fresh fruits. He plants a whole garden of fruits outside his cabin with the help of the Demeter kids and every once in a while he’ll show up with a fresh orange or pear or something

Honestly Percy wasn’t that much of a fruit guy before dating you but now he vows to try every fruit he can get his hands on!!! He rates them all for you too and gives little reviews

Sometimes you’ll wake up in the morning to 10 texts from Percy detailing how much he hated a particular fruit, all sent at 4AM

This resulted in the two of you trying the fruits out together since you had major FOMO, which then resulted in picnics becoming your thing. They’re not super traditional picnics most of the time but you call them that so that’s what they are

Your mom found out you guys were dating a week into your relationship and she couldn’t be happier. She left a cute little fruit basket on Percy’s bed the day she found out <3 he shared them all with you of course

He calls you his blossom!! This one’s kind of random I don’t usually do pet name headcanons but I had to just put that there

One of my personal headcanons for kids of Persephone is you become more closed off during the autumn/winter. You feel really bad whenever it happens but Percy’s always there for you, patiently guiding you through your mixed emotions as your mother transitions from the normal world to the Underworld

I also saw this headcanon that children of Persephone all smell like flowers so I’m including it in this. Percy thinks you smell SO good. At first he thinks its perfume so he asks you what it is and you show him all your perfumes and he’s like “nope it’s none of these,” so you guys are super stumped

Until he passes by the Demeter kids’ garden one day and smells the exact same thing. So he spent the entire day scouring it for the specific flower that smells just like you

They got really mad at him because once he found it he picked a ton of them so he could keep them in his cabin and use them as a reference point for florists in the mortal world for when he inevitably goes to buy more, but he didn’t care

You got mad at him too though, since you cannot justify the picking of flowers

“Look, Perce, this is really cute, but you shouldn’t have picked the flowers like that!” You said as you moved the flowers Percy stole from the gardens to pots, trying to salvage them as much as you possibly could

The boy in question sat on your bed, his head hung in shame. Not picking plants is the number one rule of dating a Persephone kid, and he forgot

A guilt washed over you as you took him in. He didn’t know any better, he was just excited because he finally found what was apparently ‘your scent’

After the flowers were all safely in their pots, you sat next to him, tenderly placing your hand on his face and turning it to look at yours, “it’s okay. The flowers are alive and healthy. I’ll help you grow more of them, ‘kay?” You stroked his cheek with your thumb before planting a kiss on his lips

With a goofy smile now plastered on his face, Percy mumbled, “okay, blossom.”

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x persephone reader #percy jackson x daughter of persephone #persephone pjo #children of persephone #daughter of persephone #cynwrites

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bahrtofane · 2 months

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soapy oh soapy

jude looses his lucky charm and looses his mind in the process

word count - 1.5K+

watch it - HAPPY ARPIL FOOLS. the most unserious fic to date ( jk theres one more coming )

p.s. -big shout out to my friends @aloejuicebr for fueling this madness u guys are real ones and even bigger shout to plooki @yayam26 for making soapy missing poster

-----

You end up forcing jude to do skin care with you after begging him for weeks because you just know you can work your magic and make him feel the best he’s ever felt. All you need is a night in. And time. Lots of time

After some persuasion and begging, pouty lips and puppy eyes, he gives in.

“Fine.” is all he says while you’re in his living room, legs over his watching a movie that you've long ignored in favor of bothering him.

But you’re already giggling. Picking out a headband you want him to wear in your head. Pink care bear one it is. The night comes on a rainy day, he has a rare day off the next morning, so you want him to start it on a good note.

You’re getting ready for bed, in your pjs, jumping about while you get your little baggie full of goodies out.

“Here,” you hand him the headband,” put this on” pink care bear one just like you envisioned.

He takes it, feeling the soft material while he hums, “what’s this for?”

“Keeps things out of your hair.” you smile, dragging him to his bathroom. You take about a hundred pictures, and he poses for you for each one. Giggling while you coach him into poses. You think you'll send a few to Jobe for good measure.

You face the sink and think of a game plan. Eyeing the counter

It’s here you first lay eyes on soapy.

“Jude what the hell is that? "You grimace, looking at what looks like a dry stump of white something, sitting on its own little ceramic dish.

Jude looks away, scratching the back of his neck, mumbling something under his breath.

You swing your little kit on the sink counter, setting a hand on your hip,”what was that?”

He sighs dramatically, putting his face in his hands,”it’s my good luck charm. soapy,” he wails.

You snort, patting his back, “I'm sure he’s very uh lucky,” you give it a small pat.

“No he is,” Jude brings his head up to face you, “ I know it. I've had him since before dortmund. “ he nods proudly.

You grimace,”you’ve had a piece of soap for years?”

He only nods harder.

“Okay jude. Whatever you say. “

“I am not getting rid of him,” he points a finger in your face. One that you gently move, pulling his hand into your own.

“I didn't say get rid of him. Let’s get your skincare started, yeah?”

He nods, following you through the steps like a lost puppy. leaning down while you help him apply the creams and foams just right

When it’s all set and done, he wiggles into bed happy as can be. Sighing deeply, “that was actually really nice. Thank you. “

peck! right on your nose.

you laugh, “told you it would be nice. “

your next plan is to find a way to deal with soapy…

——-

Jude loses soapy. It becomes a whole fiasco. He can’t find him in the usual small little pocket in his duffel bag in the usual ziplock baggie.

He’s frantic at his hotel, tearing his things apart, looking and relooking at the bottom of his suitcase. His jacket pockets, his pants pockets.

He tries to think. Did he leave him in his bathroom? No. Can't be it. He remembers putting him inside the familiar zip lock baggie while getting the rest of his things ready. Where in the world did he go.

His soapy. His poor soapy! How is he supposed to live in these conditions. He’s never. ever missed a single game without soapy. What is he supposed to do now? Loose?? There goes his good luck down the drain. Years of good performance is about to take a nosedive.

When he’s set to do his routine face time with you pre game, you pick up on his sour mood. But he only brushes it off, blaming it on pre game nerves

You don’t believe him, but don’t want to press

Jude pends 20 minutes locked inside the bathroom, head in his hands while he scolds himself. It’s a bar of soap he wants to scream, pull yourself together. But he can’t. Soapy has become more than just a silly little joke. He’s become attached to soapy, a part of his routine. He’d rather die than admit it out loud to anyone

For now he sighs, smoothing his jersey down and getting ready to get on the pitch.

——-

The only thing that’s been in his mind is getting back home and getting to the bottom of the mystery. Unfortunately for him, soapy is nowhere to be found in the bathroom. Not in the living room. The kitchen. The hallway. He thinks of hiring a cleaning team, but what is he supposed to say ?

Oh hey guys clean my house and also be on the lookout for a dried out stick of white that looks like a finger haha.

No. Absolutely not.

He takes to his own devices and begins to tear apart his house in a desperate search for his beloved soapy. He spends the whole day on his hands and knees looking under places he didn’t even know his house had to begin with, squeezing under and into spaces he’s sure gonna regret tomorrow.

It’s already dark out when he calls it quits. Nothing but a few bruises to show for it.

He’s really lost him huh.

——-

His behavior is soon picked up by teammates, coaches and staff. The usual cheery youthful Jude is replaced by a damp sluggish cranky one.

He’s silent at training, chewing the inside of his cheek while going through the familiar motions of each drill.

Eduardo comes to him after they hit the showers, squeaky clean and ready to go home.

“You good?”

Jude gives him a bashful nod, “yeah man. just a little worn out, don't worry.”

He gets a clap on the shoulder in response, and gives a tight lipped smile back. He’s gotta figure this out or it will start to affect more than just his mood. How stupid of him to let an old slice of a soap bar affect him so much.

A little piece of him can guess why. Soapy is one of the very few stable things in his life. And perhaps the only stable physical thing. something to count on. Something to be able to rely on. Unchanging.

But now that he’s gone and lost it ? jeez.

——-

You show up to his house on a cloudy day, his favorite snacks under your arm. He greets you with a kiss, but you see the way his eyes droop and sag. What's wrong with your golden boy?

He leads you to the living room where you make yourself at home. Plopping down on the couch and handing him his things.

He takes them gingerly, setting them on the kitchen counter while he takes a seat across from you

you frown, “Jude. What's wrong? “

He looks away, playing with his hands, knee bouncing. Okay what is going on that’s gotten him so worked up

“Baby…” you try, scooting closer to him.

He screws his eyes shut, bawling his hands into fists, “I lost soapy,”

oh.

Your gaze softens, “You lost him? When?”

He sighs, cracking an eye open, when he sees you aren’t making fun of him he opens both, relaxing.

“I don't know. when we played villareal away I couldn’t find him. Then i got back and tore this place up and still no luck.” arms falling into his lap.

You place a hand on his knee. Gentle. Soft.

“He couldn't have gotten far. I'm sure he’s somewhere obvious. “

“I guess,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch.

You smile, letting him lean against you. He's so cute when he pouts. You like babying him anyway. The rest of the day is spent with his head in your lap while you press occasional kisses to his face, letting keeping up with the kardashians play in the background.

When it’s time for you to leave, Jude whines, pouting and asking you to stay just a little more.

“It's already late jude, I would if I could you know that. “

He huffs, “I guess. “

You forgot about your bags laying on the kitchen counter, might as well put them away before you go.

Jude gets up to help, sliding against the hardwood and meeting you in the kitchen

He grabs a chair from the island in the middle, bringing it to him and a little baggie falls from it. Is that what he thinks it is ? He picks it up faster than you can turn around and almost screams. He could cry tears of joy

It’s soapy.

You were right. It was right in front of him all along

He holds up the bar for you to see and you smile, “see. told you. “

He nods, “yes you did,” kissing your lips as a thank you

You hum, patting his head when you pull apart, “glad you found soapy.”

Maybe soapy isn’t so bad after all.

#bahr footy #jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude x you #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x y/n #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fluff

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the-daydreaming-show · 10 months

Text

❝baby mine, don't you cry❞ — Richard “Dick” Grayson

jason's version

The arrival of your first child and the chaotic energy he brings into your life (which is saying a lot, why chaos is a part of you). So imagine the gray hair you obtained thanks to your First Joy.

NOTE:

People forget that as Dick was a troublesome little sh*t and he still is. We love him but he is the chaotic son and @igotmessymind agrees with me!!!

This story is part or the BATMOM SCARLET WITCH UNIVERSE that i have create. I hope you enjoy!!!

𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

WARNINGS: Dick's parents die; a boy who is very angry with the world; a very stressed new mother (you); Bruce is there, but that's not what this story is about, but he is a good father in this world.

Technically, the first time you met Dick was directly after his parents died, but he wouldn't remember that until he was an adult. And you never counted that as your first interaction with your boy because of the tragedy of the whole scenario.

You and Bruce had gone to the circus that day in the subtlest way a Wayne could go anywhere. It was a date night, one that both of you had recently defined as mandatory every week. First so that Bruce could have a break, and second because that way you guys started spending time together somewhere other than the batcave. Something that, according to Alfred, you both desperately needed as a couple.

You two were in the front row when Mary and John Grayson plummeted to their deaths in the middle of their circus act, leaving a horrified ten-year-old Dick. The boy's scream was something that, even years later, if you closed your eyes, you could still hear with terrifying clarity. Once the tent was evacuated and the crime scene isolated by the GCPD, the newly promoted Captain Jim Gordon arrived and, before you left, he very subtly approached you and your husband. He asked you if you could do something for the child. The forensics team will arrive at any moment now, and they will have to uncover the bodies. Nobody couldn't get Dick to move or to react in any way, and Jim wanted to spare the boy seeing his parents like this more than he already had.

Jim had been aware of your and your husband's identities for a while, so the request didn't surprise you. To the contrary, you quickly agreed. He took you back to the tent. Dick had been lowered from the platform, but he remained curled up in a ball on the floor, next to where the bodies of his parents were covered in white sheets, which were turning redder from day to day. Little with each passing moment. You approached him, with the most delicate step possible, and placed a hand on his hundred, entering his mind gently and gently guiding his consciousness out of the shock of the situation. It was superficial magic that didn't get you into the boy's mind very much, just enough to help him and not force him. In a few seconds the boy's head snapped up, and you let Jim quickly take control of the situation, allowing one of his detectives to guide you back out of the closed area, then back to your husband.

You had to help your husband out of his own shock that same night, forcing him to stay home and not go out as Batman, without accepting any complaints. Alfred helped, agreeing with the idea immediately. The death of the Grayson's in front of his own son was something that came very close to Bruce's heart, too many buried memories that arose uncontrollably.

The first official meeting that both of you remember is almost two weeks later. After you and Bruce had decided to take care of little Dick into your own hands. All because you find out how the boy kept sneaking out of the houses where the state put him at least once a day since that fateful night.

“Dick, this is my beautiful wife, y/n Wayne” Bruce introduced them both that day when the boy arrived with his suitcase and his eyes wide open, surprised by all the luxury that Wayne Manor represents. Smile at yourself and look briefly at your husband in reproach for his choice of words. He just shrugged, not at all sorry for his words. It's the truth. You ARE beautiful, and you are MY wife, he thought in his defence, knowing you would listen. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to the child between the two of you.

“It's a pleasure, Mr. Wayne” The boy said suspiciously, but politely, not believing how good the situation looked for him and not trusting you or your husband at all.

“It's nice to meet you too, Dick” you told him, smiling sweetly “No need to be so formal, just call me y/n, it's fine”

Dick's mind couldn't stop thinking about how pretty you were. The way you were sweet in that first meeting was bittersweet for him, because he reminded him of his own mother, of that affection that she used to give him and that he would never receive from her anymore.

“Lunch is almost done” you tell him as you lean a little more towards Bruce for support, “Are you hungry?. Alfred prepared a buffet just to welcome you” you explained trying to push those thoughts away for now, you desperately wanted him to feel good and comfortable there.

“Alfred?” the boy asked, confused.

“Our butler” Bruce explained

“He's more like family than anything” you clarified, “Like a grumpy grandpa who won't let you touch the stove without breathing over your shoulder” you teased a bit.

“Did he say my name, Mistress y/n?” said the aforementioned, coming from the kitchen and looking at you accusingly.

“No, not at all” you denied it and Dick couldn't help but smile a little at the mischief, to which you winked at him and offered your hand.

“Come on, let me show you the dining room” you invited him and the boy left your hand dangling for a moment, thinking about his next move. But, since you didn't stop smiling or offering him your hand, Dick decided to take it last, mainly because he was hungry.

Dick let you guide him, serve him food. He talked to you a bit during the meal until Bruce had to go to Wayne Enterprises for a meeting, then you showed him the mansion and his room. You promised him that you would go shopping this week to decorate it to his liking so that he would feel more comfortable.

During that week was the honeymoon phase.

The social worker you and Bruce had meetings with before Dick arrived explained about the phase. It's when everything seems perfect and the child shares his best manners. Either out of fear of how you would react. Or hoping to see how long your stay in the house would last, if it's worth getting used to or not. But the act would end sooner or later.

And it was exactly one week later (a Tuesday to be exact), the day after Dick started attending his new school, that the boy act ended and the adjustment phase officially began.

“This stage is the most difficult, so I need you to be prepared for it, especially in a case like Richard's” the social worker explained to both of you with seriousness. You had taken every word she gave you with like it was the bible, but at the end you still weren't ready when it started and everything that happened hit you like a truck.

You were in your studio in downtown Gotham, having a meeting with the designers who work with you and discussing that winter's new clothing collection for the brand. When Nina, your personal assistant, enters the office after timidly knocking on the door with a worried face.

“Mrs. Wayne” she called out to you, to which you look at her, smiling kindly upon seeing her “I know that you asked me not to bother you unless it was an emergency” she said, remembering what you had told her, you frowned immediately worried, because Nina was extremely effective and if she was there it was because it was genuinely an emergency “Gotham Academy is on call, it's about your son” she told you, and you immediately called off the meeting before leaving on the phone.

It turned out that not only had the school called, but GCPD had called Bruce around the same time. Dick, your only ten-year-old boy, had run away from school and ended up being found in Crime Alley by an officer who recognised him from the news. The officer in turn informed Jim Gordon, knowing the proximity to the Wayne's, and he gave the order to bring the boy to his office in the centre of the city, to then call your husband. You never knew what god to thank for Dick that would have been found by one of the few good cops in Gotham, but you did anyway.

“What is he thinking?” you asked worriedly while talking on the phone with Bruce, already on your way to the police station, with Alfred driving, “Anything could have happened to him. If he didn't want to go to school he could have said, he insisted on starting this week, I don't understand!-” you stopped, passing your hand over your eyes and sighing heavily.

“That was probably the point, love” Bruce said softly. “He wanted you to leave him at school and not think about the matter anymore. It is likely that his plan would have always been to escape, surely he would have done the same yesterday if he had not been assigned a partner for his first day” he explained to you, his voice accompanied by the movement of papers on the desk in his own office.

The day before, which had been Dick's first day of school since the death of his parents, the school had assigned one of its older students to guide him on that day, so he had been watched all day. But that day had been different, and your son had gotten up in the bathroom in the middle of the first class, and had not returned to the classroom. So the school had called you when they realised the boy was missing. And Jim had called Bruce shortly after when the patrolman found him. And Dick had taken a cab to Crime Alley, of all the places.

“He's safe, you need to calm down, love” Bruce continued, getting up from his desk, to walk up to the large windows in his office and look out over the city, as if he could see you from the top of Wayne Tower “We'll talk to him when he gets home, before dinner, but upsetting you like that won't help” he advised you, even though he was just as worried about what had happened.

“Alright, alright” you whispered while taking a deep breath.

At the door of the police station you were met by a uniform who was waiting for Jim's orders, who took you to the captain's office where, sitting with his head down and his arms crossed tightly across his chest, you found Dick.

“Richard Grayson” you started in a stern tone, walking towards him and crouching down in front of him, to check that he wasn't hurt. “¿What were you thinking?¿Why do you think of getting in Crime Alley alone?” you asked calmly but firmly, looking at me as the boy avoided returning the gesture “Dick, look at me” you insisted, looking for his gaze, but the boy continued to refuse, almost tempted to close his eyes to make his denial clear.

“Mrs. Wayne” Captain Gordon called to you from his desk, where he had been watching the interaction, and you quickly stood up to greet him.

“Jim, you don't know how much I appreciate you for this. I almost had a heart attack when the school called me to say that Dick was missing” you told him as you shook his hand.

“Don't worry, your boy was just taking a walk, a bit of a dangerous adventure, but he came out without a scratch” he reassured you while looking at the crestfallen boy sitting next to you, and he did not miss the way your hand trembled slightly “Gomez” the officer who had brought you to the door looked at his boss ready to receive his order “Why don't you take little Dick to get something to eat from the vending machine down the hall?” and his question didn't need an answer. Dick left with Officer Gomez without saying a word, as you watched his back walk away through the glass in the office door.

“Y/n, please, sit down” Jim asked as he approached one of the chairs on the guest side of his desk, sitting down across from you immediately after you did.

“I'm sorry, I just-” You tried to apologise for how upset you were, but the man stopped you with an understanding smile.

“Don't worry, y/n. I was close to an aneurysm the first time my Barbs ran away from school” he told you trying to calm you down, to which you giggled at the thought of the adorable red-haired little girl who was the only daughter of the Gordon family.

“They start younger and younger” you plead, with a mixture of amusement and concern looking at the older man.

“Well this is Gotham, our kids have to grow up faster than others” he explained to you, while he served a glass of water from the jug that he had on his desk “Your butler had the same reaction when I found your husband walking in the same place years ago, shortly after the death of Thomas and Martha” he remembered, offering you the glass, which you accepted with anguish.

“God, he already acts like Bruce, and he hasn't even been with us for two weeks” you lamented, to which Jim couldn't help but chuckle a bit at your concern.

“Welcome to parenthood, your heart gets used to it sooner or later” he comforted you, running his hand down your back reassuringly.

Things got worse before they got better. Dick started running away not only from school, but from home, and he started yelling at you at unexpected times. There was no way for you to figure out what was making him mad because it was different what you did or didn't do every time he started his tantrum.

That was the case for more than two months after the first incident. Alfred told you that Bruce had been the same for a full year after his parents died. Bruce told you it wasn't your fault, despite what the kid was yelling at YOU all the time. But you could do more than feel guilty. You didn't want to fix things with your magic. When you retired you decided that your life could not be what you did with your power, it was more than just your power, and it was time to start accepting it, enjoying it. But you don't know how to help him without that power, either, at least not in a very deep way. So you did the only thing you could think of, you kept offering your hand to little Dickie, even though half the time he seemed to want to bite his hand.

It all came to a head one afternoon after you brought a very angry Dick to Wayne Manor from school. Gotham Academy had called you to talk after he tried to escape again. They informed you that maybe it was time for you and Bruce to look for another school for the boy, since his behaviour was not appropriate for the establishment.

“Dick, we need to talk” you called out to the boy, seeing him run towards the stairs as soon as you closed the front door. Alfred was shopping for dinner and Bruce was at League HQ, so you were the only one to argue with the kid that day “Dick Grayson, come back here, we're going to have a talk about this sooner or later” you said, going after the boy with a calm step, but Dick heard you coming and ran to his room at the moment he made the second floor of the house, slamming the door shut before you managed to finish climbing the stairs.

You sighed heavily as you stopped at the sound of the door slamming. You wanted desperately to go into the room and demand that the boy tell you what was bothering him so much, you wanted desperately to fix whatever was bothering him so much. But you knew you couldn't really fix the source of his problems, even if you had the magical potential to do so. You learned long ago that death is something even you must let take its course, for the sake of the very existence of the whole. You also didn't want to enter the boy's mind with magic, it wouldn't be fair to him to do that, so your options were limited at the end of the day. So you stood there, helpless.

You were having a hard time, not because you didn't want the task of taking care of Dick, but because it was a mixture of situations that seemed unfair to you. First the poor boy lost his parents together in front of his eyes, and he did so after the death of the Scarlet Witch, after you decided it was better to start a life without the chaos magic that characterised you. If the boy had crossed your path a couple of years earlier, neither Mary nor John had fallen to their deaths that day, you would have stopped it right there in that tent of the circus without much thought. But it hadn't been.

Although, you didn't need to read his mind to know one thing: Dick hated you. Totally and intensely. He had made it clear to you on more than one occasion.

And yes, he did. Dick hated everything about you. He hated the way you made his room look like the ideal in his mind of what he wanted. How you personally prepared his lunches for school. How you wore it and personally attracted you everywhere. How you smile with affection, how you patiently accept every insult and scream. I also hated how you tried so hard that he wouldn't notice that Bruce wasn't there much. Or how you always found him when he got lost in the halls. Also, when you brought him cookies and hot chocolate when he couldn't sleep, even though sugar didn't really help him sleep at all. He only made him happy for a while.

Why couldn't you be like the wicked stepmothers of the stories?

It would be easier for him.

He hated the way you loved him, because it made him want his mom back, and it made him remember that she was gone, it made him want to accept you and Bruce as his family too. But he didn't need a new family. He necessitated his family, his parents, and his circus friends. He wanted his life back.

He hated you. He hated you. He hated you.

Dick curled up on the bed, with the blankets you personally picked out with him, which were Superman, and hid his head on the pillow. There he remained. At eleven years old, Dick had never been the type to be capricious or suspicious. His parents had always taken pride in saying that his son was very well-behaved and fit in wherever they went with the show. But now he just wanted to hate and never stop doing it, he didn't want anything else because the world was cruel, and it didn't deserve more than his hate. You didn't deserve more than that for being so good that it made him want to feel like before, and it pulled his mind to a better place every time you caressed his hair lovingly and made him feel at home.

That night, after eating the sandwich that Alfred had kindly given him when he refused to come down for dinner, he went to sleep without expecting you to come and say good night, as you had done since he arrived at the mansion. Usually, he didn't go to sleep easily, but his desire to avoid you overcame the fear of his nightmares, so he quickly fell asleep.

You arrived after he began to snore softly, already sunk in sleep. You entered, opening the door as quietly as possible, to see him spread out on his bed, with his pyjamas on, and the sheets almost falling off the bed due to his movements. Likewise, you couldn't help but feel the tenderness warm your heart, thinking to yourself that this should be a good step on the right path, because the boy hadn't slept well since he arrived at the mansion and since before, according to the reports of the social worker. So that he was sleeping at that time was good. You took victory silently and closed the door to the room, using the surface of your powers to close the curtains that let the moonlight into the room before walking away.

You went down to the cave after that, where Bruce was getting ready to go out for the night.

“How is he?” he asked while putting on his gloves, as soon as he heard you walking out of the elevator.

“He's asleep” you told him with a big smile, happy for the small victory.

“Really?” Bruce asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes” you answer, reaching her side, unable to contain the smile of happiness, for that reason “I know it's not much considering what happened today-” you started, but your husband stopped you by placing his hands on your cheeks affectionately.

“It's a good thing” he assured you, smiling at you, and you kissed his lips lightly “We still need to talk to him tomorrow though” Bruce said, gently breaking your bubble, to which you sighed.

“If it makes you feel any better, Mistress y/n” Alfred began from the chair in front of the batcomputer “I could make you a list of the number of private schools Master Bruce was expelled from before he finally calmed down” he offered to what Bruce rolled his eyes in amusement “It's including Gotham Academy, of course” he clarified with amusement.

The night passed as normally as it could. But around one in the morning you went upstairs to check on Dick, as you always did at night when you stayed in the cave. It was the third time you'd checked, and he'd been fine the first two times, having started snoring louder on each visit.

So you expected to hear the boy snoring when you reached the hallway of his room, instead, you were met with crying. You stopped in place for a moment, because it was the first time you had heard Dick cry since he had arrived at the mansion.

“Mama” the boy cried, half awake and half asleep, “Mama” kept calling between sobs that shook her little body violently.

The most instinctive part of you walked quickly towards the door with a soft step, but the same logic made you stop at the door before even touching the handle, apart from that he told you that the boy was calling for his mom, for Mary. Not for you, he didn't want you. And for a moment you decided that you would not go in, and we let him cry all he needed, and tomorrow you would try to get him to talk about it. It might be a good time to suggest therapy. Yes, that was the best option and the best way to handle the situation.

“Mom, mom” you heard. Now fully awake, Dick continued to sob with his broken heart, and he broke yours with the sound of his cracking voice. So the institute won.

You walked into the room ready to be yelled at almost immediately. But you did it anyway, sure-footed and ready to do whatever it took to make your precious boy stop suffering once and for all. You knew that that would never leave him, but you would still try.

“Dickie, baby” you said as you approached the bed, to sit on the edge of the mattress next to him, running a hand over his back as he continued to cry and sobbed loudly “My joy, it's okay, you're-” and then the force of the child colliding with your chest stopped you.

In the time Dick had been there, he had never allowed you or Bruce or Alfred to get any closer than to hold his hand or stroke his hair. So when the boy threw himself at you crying and hugging your waist as if his life depended on it, he surprised you. He was hugging you as if he was afraid that you would disappear from one second to the next (theoretically you could do that, it was part of your powers, but that wasn't what the boy was afraid of). He sobbed into your chest as his knuckles turned white from clinging to you.

“It's okay, my joy” you comforted him, hugging him back and kissing his hair “Everything will be alright” you promised him, not quite sure what else to say to make him feel better and hugging him tighter to match his strength, so he would understand that you won't be leaving soon

“I want my mum” the boy sobbed, not with an internal intention to hurt you, but as if asking you to do something. You were an adult, you could fix anything, that's what adults do, and the ten-year-old was practically begging you desperately for a solution as he felt.

“Oh, I know, Dickie. I know” you said hugging him tighter “I'm so sorry, baby” you apologised, feeling bad for having no more than words to handle the situation, knowing that nothing will bring that child back to his parents, no matter how much you want to make it happen for him.

You would do anything for that boy. You would destroy yourself, and you would build yourself up again. Not only that, but you would empty out entire universes and kill God himself if necessary. But for now, you just held him while he cried, while he called out to a mother who lay twenty feet under. You knew, at that moment, that there would never be anything you wouldn't do for that boy. And Dick decided that night that maybe you weren't so bad.

Dick Grayson couldn't believe he was standing in the Batcave. He also couldn't believe his adoptive father was Batman. Now he understood why he was always missing for so long, it wasn't that Bruce was ignoring him, it was that he was down there, being a hero for Gotham City. His mind was racing as he walked around the place asking your husband questions and inspecting every nook, artefact, and blemish he found in the place. You and Bruce watched him from a distance, grinning like fools at the uncontrollable excitement of the boy who had long felt like he was your own.

“This is AMAZING” Dick would say whenever something particularly struck him, which means he said it every few seconds.

“See, he told you he would be excited” you told your husband while you took his hand, he smiled at you and brought your clasped hands to his lips to kiss your knuckles affectionately. A silent way of telling you: You were right, love.

“WOW” exclaimed the boy, he was now standing on the platform where the different suits that your husband had used as Batman are displayed “With all due respect, Bruce, but it's good that you left behind the combination of purple and yellow, it was too much” the boy scoffed, pointing at the first suit on display behind him.

“It was the eighties” your husband defended himself with a grimace, rolling his eyes at how similar the comment was to the one you had made the first time you set foot in the cave several years ago. You just laughed as you looked at him, happily remembering that moment.

“Purple looks amazing on you, my love” you assured him, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Very intimidating” you said, to which both you and Dick chuckled, while Bruce continued to regret his fashion decisions.

“I tried to talk him out of it, Master Dick” Alfred commented, joining the bandwagon of teasing Bruce about his old fashion decisions. “But he insisted,” he shrugged gracefully.

“Okay, I'm going to throw him out of my cave if you don't leave my purple suit alone” Bruce complained, to which you and Dick shared an amused look before the boy returned his attention to the suits on display. Alfred smiled as he watched you kiss your husband in compensation, earning me a goofy smile from him, the one the butler had seen a lot since you two got married.

“HOLY SHIT” Dick suddenly exclaimed, to which you and Bruce turned to look at him wearing it, your husband ready to spring into action at your son's exclamation “You've got the Scarlet Witch suit here!!” the boy exclaimed excitedly, looking at your husband in disbelief before running to stand in front of the glass where your old suit is on display. Well, the word suit was an understatement, because it was a red bodysuit, with a belt, the cape, and high boots. An outfit that was not the best choice for fighting, but you never question it too much, because you were always comfortable in yourself and in that outfit, too.

Bruce and you shared a look. It was time to drop the second bomb on the boy. Now you were the one worried about her reaction.

“How did you get it?” Dick asked excitedly, his nose glued to the glass, pawing it with his breath “I thought the Justice League couldn't get her body back from the Dimension of the Damned after she closed the portal to save us” he said, thinking aloud, while analysing the garment.

Up close, he could see the details of the fabric, the way the cloak had a texture and wasn't smooth as it seemed watching it from the television. It was as if magic was embedded in the fabric, and it moved even when she was still on the mannequin. The boy was fascinated, definitely marking this as the best day of his life.

“Well that's true. The League was unable to recover her body after she closed the portal” explained Bruce, as he hugged your waist, pressing his fingers against you at the memory of those events that still haunt him “But the suit is here for its protection, nothing more, it still belongs to its owner” Bruce finished, letting the boy think a little about his words.

“Wait,” Dick said, frowning and turning away from the video, to walk to the railing of the platform. And how do you have it, if she never left the Dimension of the Damned?” the boy frowned, thinking hard that how could it be that this was the original costume.

“It's more like early retirement than death” Dick jumped in place when you appeared next to him, speaking sweetly to him “But yes, the Scarlet Witch never made it out of the Dimension of the Damned” you explained to him, while you crouch in front of him, the boy turned to face you still confused by what he was saying “Dick, do you remember that we told you that we had to tell you a couple of things?” you asked him and the boy quickly nodded “Well first we wanted to tell you that Bruce is Batman, as you already deduced” you pointed to your husband on the lowest platform “And the other one is that I'm-” Before you could say more, Dick squealed with excitement again.

“YOU ARE THE SCARLET WITCH, HOLY FUCK!!” the boy yelled with his eyes as wide as his eyelids would allow.

“Language, Master Dick” Alfred scolded absently from below.

“OH-MY-GOD” The boy yelled again, looking at me as if you were hanging the stars from the sky, throwing himself on you, hugging you with his arms around your neck “I knew you weren't dead, I argued every day with my friends about this, it didn't make sense for YOU to die just like that, no amount of spawn could kill the Scarlet Witch, it's absurd-” The boy began to ramble as you picked him up in your arms, he hug your hips with his legs intuitively, and you walked down with him in your arms. Smiling softly at the boy's excitement, it was Bruce's turn to give you the Told you so look “This is the BEST day of my life” Dick finished his ramblings as you pulled up next to Bruce, with him still sitting on your hip, and proceeded to grab your husband's neck and hug you both tight. The pull made your husband laugh at the boy's sudden outburst. “My parents are the coolest people on the planet next to Superman, this is the best” the boy declared proudly, ignoring the surprised looks you and Bruce shared immediately after that.

It was the first time his parents had called you, and Dick didn't even think about it much longer, it came out of him so naturally that you two didn't say anything else either. You were mom after that and Bruce was dad, as if the boy had forgotten how to say his name from one moment to the next. And he did it with the greatest happiness in the world.

That night, after Bruce went out on patrol, and you dragged a still very excited Dick to bed, as you tucked him into bed, tucking the covers over him, your son's face suddenly scrunched up at a particular thought.

“What's up, Dikie?” you asked, as you ran your hand over her forehead, concerned at the sudden change in expression.

“Weren't Batman and the Scarlet Witch supposed to hate each other?” he asked you confused, looking down with his head tilted from his pillow.

You laughed, relieved and amused by the question.

“That, my boy, is a story for another day”

And that was it.

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#batmom #all for us #batfam x reader #dick grayson x batmom #bruce wayne x fem!reader #batman x scarletwitch #scarletwitch!reader #scarletwitch!batmom!reader

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kyemna · 4 months

Text

Predatory Instincts

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(i apologize for any possible grammer mistakes)

Tw: blood, chasing (not scary though)

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[Hide and seek]

The rules of the game were:

The hiders will get a 5 minute headstart.

Your only found if the seeker touches you, so run if you can.

Your not allowed to hide outside of the Hotel.

No locking doors of any kind.

Only the seeker is allowed to use magic powers.

The seeker has 1 hour to find everyone. If the time runs out and the seeker hasn't found you.

You win.

The players were:

Angel dust

Charlie

Vaggie

Husk

Nifty

Alastor and you.

You wrote all of the rules down on a piece of paper passed it around, letting everyone look at it.

You grabbed a bottle from the cabin.

"I'm going to spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on, will be the seeker."

Everyone nodded.

You put the bottle on the table and gave it a good spin.

It went around, and around...

It started to slow down... stopping at.. oh no.

Everyone slowly looked up from the bottle.

Nifty giggled.

Alastors grin widened, and you guessed it.

The tip of the bottle was pointing at him.

"Well, let's get to it then." He grabbed his watch out of his pocket.

"Better find a place to hide. Time starts.. now."

A shiver went down your spine.

You didn't like this one bit..

You pushed the feeling aside and quickly made your way up the stairs, running through the long halls of the Hotel.

With only 5 minutes on the clock, you frantically looked around.

After what felt like forever, you spotted a suitcase. Hm.

20 seconds left. This was your only option. You opened the suitcase and hurriedly got in.

"Times up!" You heard Alastor yell from downstairs.

Your heartbeat picked up.

There was a small opening in the suitcase, but big enough for you to get a look outside.

You heard a loud yelp from downstairs, that sounded like Charlie.

She said something shortly after, stuttering:

"Oh, Alastor, y-you scared me.."

The lights flickered.

"I apologize dear."

That's one out.

Not long after that he found: Vaggie under her bed, Angel Dust in the supply closet and Nifty, in the bathroom cabin.

Only you and Husk were left.

Half an hour passed and you still heard nothing.

The suitcase was starting to get suffocating too. You wished you could just-

All of a sudden Husk ran by, with Alastor following close behind him.

That was your cue to get the hell out of that suitcase and make a run for it.

You quickly got out, and ran in the other direction.

You turned a corner, looking behind you, not noticing the cabin infront of you. You ran right into it, cutting your knee.

You fell to the ground, a groan escaping your lips.

Blood trickled down your leg.

Thinking it couldn't get any worse than this, you heard footsteps slowly coming towards you. Shit.

It's just a game of hide and seek right..?

Just quit, your hurt.

No.. Alastor would never let you quit.

Either he finds you, or the time runs out.

He wouldn't let you surrender.

You knew him like that.

He always got way to competitive with these kind of games..

But you weren't planning on loosing either.

"(Y/n) dear.. where are you hiding?~"

Either you get up now, or he's going to find you. Get up.

Your blood dripped to the floor as you tried to stand.

You stumbled towards a nearby closet, and got in, swiftly closing the door.

Alastor came around the corner, his hands behind his back.

He was humming a song you didn't recognize, but it sounded some what.. dark.

He looked around, tracing his finger across cabins, and storage room doors, but he didn't open them. Why wasn't he opening them..? Shouldn't he be trying to find you..?

The stinging in your knee got worse the longer you stood still.

You looked through the opening between the two doors.

He had stopped at the few drops of blood on the carpet. Your blood.

His grin widened.

You always found Alastor to be quite the sadistic man. He really gave you the chills, everytime he was near.

He looked up from the blood, looking directly at the closet, you were in.

10 minutes left.

"(Y/n) dear, won't you come out so we can get this over with?~" he said, slowly approaching you.

You had two options.

Either 1: you stay in the closet, hoping he was bluffing. But if he wasn't he was going to find you, and then you would loose the game.

Or 2: Getting out of the closet and trying to make a run for it, knowing that, with your open knee, you probably wouldn't stand a chance.

You were trying to decide when suddenly, you remembered something.

Cherry had gifted you a small smoke grenade for your birthday last week, that you kept in your pocket.

It wouldn't do any damage, nor was it dangerous, but it could work in your favor as a decoy.

Technically it didn't count as magic, so it was allowed.

That creates plan number 3.

You'd have to act quickly if you wanted this to work. And so you did. You grabbed your diversion out of your pocket, stepping out of the closet.

You pulled the pin out of the smoke grenade and threw it at him, immediately running- well, trying to. You were sure it looked more like stumbling, but oh well.

He coughed.

"Oh? Your running? Are you sure that's the best idea, dear?"

You ignored him and made your way down the stairs.

You just had to get to the kitchen and-

Before you could process it, your body duck down, and fell backwards.

Alastor stood in the door opening, hand leaning against the wall.

You avoided being touched by a hair..

Something was off.. he was breathing so heavily..

He had this look in his eyes, as if he was-

Oh. Oh, shit.

You realized it.

Ofcourse it's not smart to let a predator such as himself be the seeker. How could you be so stupid..

3 minutes left.

He just stood there.. menacingly.. looking at you, as if he was waiting for you to run.

You slowly got to your feet, as your hand found a door handle. You pushed it down and entered the kitchen, stumbling towards the counter grabbing a knife.

How did a simple game of hide and seek turn into a murderous pursuit.

Alastor entered the kitchen as well, closing and locking the door behind him.

His eyes fell to the knife in your hands.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, dear."

He said.

One of his shadows grabbed your wrist, pinning it behind your back, and twisting it.

You hissed, dropping the knife before it would actually break your bone.

Alastor picked up the knife, putting it back into place, on the counter.

He took a hold of your face, his grin grew.

"You loose"

The look in his eyes was gone.

His shadow let of your wrist and disappeared.

"Everything okay in there?" Charlie said, from the other side of door.

"Ofcourse!" Alastor answered, sounding like his usual self. He had his fun.

He walked to the door and unlocked it.

Charlie looked around, her eyes finding you.

You still kind of.. well.. petrified, looked at the black mark on your wrist.

"Oh my devil's, (y/n), your bleeding!" She ran to you, grabbing your arm and putting it over her shoulder, supporting you, taking some of the weight of your knee.

"Let's get you patched up."

She took you to the lobby and sat you down, grabbing the first aid-kit.

Alastor followed close behind her, whispering something in her ear. She stopped in her tracks, as she nodded slowly.

She made her way to you again.

"(Y/n), you won the game by the way. Congratulations!"

She smiled widely, cleaning the wound on your leg.

You frowned. You were sure there were 40 seconds left..

Oh well. Maybe the adrenaline of the whole thing got to you..

Thank you for reading!

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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year

Text

When witches turn eighteen years old, it’s customary for them to be sent out into the world, to practice their magic and find their calling. So when Eddie Munson’s birthday passes in July, he packs a suitcase, says goodbye to his Uncle Wayne—the best garden witch in the tri-county area, ask anyone!—zips his cat into the neck of his leather jacket (whom he’d cleverly named Kitty when he was six years old), climbs on his broom, and sets off for the city on the coast.

Once he gets there, Eddie’s not entirely sure where to go. He’s never actually been to the city before, but he’d heard so many stories—from classmates and friends, from travelers passing through his small town who’d come searching for Wayne’s recipes, from the witches who returned after their year-long apprenticeships—that he’d known since he was thirteen that he had to see it for himself. He wanders the cobblestone streets with his broom and his bag and marvels at the crowds. He watches a magician perform on the street—doesn’t miss it when he slips a card up his sleeve or shifts a coin through his fingers, but it still makes him smile—before he stumbles onto a ‘help wanted’ sign in a shop window. Kitty lets out a tiny meow from where she’s tucked under Eddie’s chin, like she’s trying to get his attention. Eddie glances down at her and she shifts her gaze from his face to the sign and back again.

“Alright, I hear ya,” Eddie murmurs, grinning and cupping a hand over her head for a quick pet.

A tiny bell jingles overhead as Eddie pushes open the front door. Immediately, he’s met with the smell of baking bread and sugary frosting. He breathes deep, giving Kitty another pat on her head. He stands at the counter for a moment before a boy around his age appears from the back room.

“Hi, welcome to The Bakery. What can I help you with?” The boy is grinning wide, wiping his flour-covered hands on his apron. He’s got soft brown hair and eyes to match. Eddie meets his gaze and feels himself blush.

“Um, you have a ‘help wanted’ sign in your window?” Eddie hooks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing at the sign.

“Oh! Yeah, we just put that up today actually. We’re looking for a delivery person,” the boy is still grinning, eyeing Eddie’s broom. “I’m Steve.” He holds out his hand over the counter for Eddie to shake.

“Eddie.” Steve’s hand is surprisingly soft when Eddie shakes it.

“The job comes with a room over the bakery, our hours are from 6am to 5pm every day but Thursday, and we’d like you to start immediately.”

“Oh, um. Just like that?”

Steve grins again. “I may not be smart, but even I know not to turn away a witch when one comes knocking.” He knocks his knuckles against the wooden counter and Eddie returns his smile. “Come on, I’ll show you the room.” Steve turns to head back the way he came and Eddie takes a moment to look down at Kitty. She blinks at him, all-knowing, and it makes Eddie blush again. He rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at her before following behind Steve.

He follows Steve out the bakery’s back door and up a set of wooden stairs that lead from the garden to a small deck, where Steve pulls a key from his pocket and unlocks one of the two doors. He gestures for Eddie to step through the doorway before following behind him.

“The room is furnished, there’s a small stove there in the corner with a sink and a washroom just over there,” Steve gestures to a door on the opposite wall from the tiny bed. “My apartment’s the next door over and I have a full kitchen, which you’re welcome to use if you need to. Here’s your key,” Steve drops the warm piece of metal into Eddie’s palm, “and I’ll have the spare key to my place and the bakery for you tomorrow. Make yourself at home and head down to the bakery tomorrow morning.” Steve pats him on the shoulder before heading back out of the tiny room and down into the bakery.

Eddie is left to do nothing but blink at the empty space Steve had left behind. He’s not entirely sure what just happened, but he’s pretty sure he’s landed both a job and a place to stay. Not bad for his first day in the city.

~*~

A year passes and Eddie is happy. He writes to Wayne and tells him all about Steve and the recipes he tries out in the bakery. Tells Wayne that he suspects that Steve might have some witch blood he doesn’t know about; the things he can do with buttercream are pure magic. Eddie visits Wayne once for his birthday—it’s a long way by broom—weighed down by pastries and cakes that Steve insists he take home with him.

Eddie starts to learn the landscape of the city, learns when to fly over the coastline and when to keep tight to the city streets. He makes his own posters, starts to do some deliveries after hours too, which leads him to meet all sorts of interesting people. He meets artists and performers, writers and teachers, even the man who services the big clock at the center of the city (which Eddie finds particularly impressive).

He spends time with Steve. Steve is funny and smart, despite what he’d said the first day Eddie had met him. He can cook, not just bake, and he insists that Eddie joins him for dinner at least three nights a week. At first, Eddie had tried to say no to Steve’s invitations, thinking that Steve was just being polite, but Steve had insisted and Eddie realized that Steve was actually pretty lonely. He wasn’t from the city and he didn’t have much family; he’d come here when his parents had died. He’d apprenticed with an older woman named Claudia, who’d left the bakery to him when she’d retired not too long ago. Steve’s eyes go soft whenever he mentions her. Her son, Dustin, still helps them around the bakery three days a week, counting down the days until he leaves for university (he only ever relays the amount of days and Eddie’s pretty bad at math, but by his count, Dustin’s still got about three years to go).

Steve also talks about his best friend, Robin, who’s away at art school. Steve is hoping when she comes back in the spring, she’ll work at the bakery decorating the cakes. Eddie’s surprised to learn that Robin is also a witch; he hadn’t known many witches to go to art school.

The year passes in dinners and picnics, in deliveries and odd jobs, and when spring is finally turning over into summer again, Robin arrives home to the bakery.

“Stevie!” A voice calls from the front of the shop, scratchy and warm, drowning out the jingle of the bell. Eddie is sat on the counter in the back room, completely entranced by the way Steve’s arm muscles jump under his skin as he kneads bread dough. He’s barely listening to some story Steve’s telling about something Dustin had done the other day.

Eddie watches as Steve stops what he’s doing completely. “Robbie?” A smile spreads across Steve’s face, quick and involuntary. He doesn’t even pause to wipe his hands before he’s rushing into the front of the shop. Eddie watches through the door as a pretty girl with short blond hair throws her arms around Steve’s neck. He lifts her off the ground, spinning her around, leaving flour fingerprints across the back of her navy t-shirt.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming today?” Steve asks when he’s finally returned her to an upright position on her own two feet.

“Because then it wouldn’t have been a surprise, dingus.” She pokes a finger into his ribs and he half-heartedly tries to shove her away.

Watching them, Eddie feels something tighten in his chest that he can’t quite explain. He knows this is Robin—he’s seen pictures of her before—knows she’s Steve’s best friend, but this is more than mere friendship. This is something else entirely. Something magic. Eddie’s a good witch. He knows true love when he sees it.

“You have to meet Eddie,” Steve says before calling through the doorway, “Eddie, come meet Robin!”

Eddie hops off the counter and does as he’s told.

~*~

A few weeks later, Eddie wakes with a pounding headache. There’s a breeze coming through his window off the coast and it makes him shiver. He coughs and looks around for Kitty, but she isn’t curled in her usual spot on his pillow. Eddie sniffles.

He pulls himself from his bed and feels dizzy. He washes his face and drinks some orange juice before he heads down to the bakery.

“Wow, you look awful,” Robin says by way of greeting. She grimaces as he comes through the doorway.

“Gee thanks,” Eddie grumbles half-heartedly in her direction. His voice sounds heavy and hoarse.

Steve crosses the room from where he stands in front of the ovens and presses the back of his hand to Eddie’s forehead. “Eddie, you’re burning up. You should go back to bed. I’ll bring you soup later.” He pushes Eddie in the direction of the back door.

“But the deliveries,” Eddie mumbles, eyes already half closing as he dreams of getting back into his sleep-warm bed.

Steve smiles softly. “Don’t worry. Robin and Dustin can handle it.” Eddie glances behind Steve at Robin, who nods at Eddie reassuringly.

“Okay.” Eddie’s voice is a whisper and then he’s stumbling back up the stairs and falling into his bed. He wonders again where Kitty’s run off to.

~*~

Eddie is in and out of consciousness for three days. He has strange dreams, some of them nightmares where monsters chase after him as he tries to fly away on his broom; others are about Steve and Robin and even Dustin, good dreams of the life he’s made here for himself.

Steve keeps his promise and brings him soup every day, helping Eddie sit up against his pillows and even helping Eddie spoon the broth into his mouth. Eddie thinks he maybe should be a little embarrassed about it, but it’s so nice and comforting that he can’t. It reminds him of home, of recipes from Wayne’s garden.

Robin comes to sit with him on the second night, stroking his hair and humming lullabies while he drifts off.

On the third day, when Eddie is starting to feel better, Kitty finally reappears. Eddie asks her where she’d run off to, but she doesn’t answer. She’s been keeping secrets lately.

~*~

After three days, Eddie finally returns to work. Steve gives him the first delivery, tells him Dustin and Robin can continue to help out, just for a few days, so Eddie doesn’t overexert himself. Eddie nods.

He ties the tiny pastry box to the handle of his broom and mounts it on the sidewalk outside. He kicks off from the cobblestones. Nothing happens. Flying had always come easily to Eddie. It was second nature to him, something he never really had to think about. Not all witches could fly, but Eddie can’t really remember a time when he couldn’t.

He tries to kick off from the sidewalk again. Again, nothing happens. Eddie can feel the panic rise in his chest. He swallows, tries again. Still nothing.

He hears himself let out a small whimper and he’s glad Steve’s gone back inside and can’t hear him. He glances through the shop window and sees Robin’s clever eyes watching him. She meets his gaze. He can see the naked concern there. He swallows again.

He climbs off the broom and unties the package. He carries both as he re-enters the bakery.

“Something’s wrong,” he says to Robin and Steve.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks coming out of the back room again.

“Dunno,” Eddie replies. “Broom’s broken or something. Can’t fly.” He shakes the broom in his hand.

“Does that happen?” Steve’s brow furrows. Eddie shrugs.

“Maybe you’re still sick,” Robin says. “You should go back to bed. Try again in a few days.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Eddie looks down at his feet. He passes the box to Robin and then decides she’s right. Decides he should go back to bed.

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Steve says, reassuringly. “It’ll pass. Robin and Dustin can keep doing the deliveries for a little while.”

~*~

Eddie’s magic doesn’t come back. It’s not just the flying either. Kitty stays away longer. Eddie finds himself misunderstanding her more often than not. He keeps messing up simple cleaning spells and the easy home remedies he’s been brewing since before he can remember.

He takes his broom out every night and under the cover of darkness tries and tries and tries again. Sometimes he feels eyes watching him from Steve’s apartment, but when he glances up, all he can see is the flutter of curtains.

~*~

After three weeks of a miserable, magic-less existence, Robin knocks on the door of Eddie’s small room.

“Wanna talk?” She asks from the doorway.

Eddie considers saying no. Instead he nods and gestures toward his small kitchen table. She sits.

“I saw you practicing,” she says, diving right in.

“Yeah.” Eddie doesn’t try to deny it or even play dumb and ask what she means. She’s a witch. She’ll know. “Flying used to be like breathing. I didn’t even notice I was doing it half the time. Think I learned to fly before I could even walk. Now it’s all I think about. Feels like something’s missing now, like my lungs or, like, a part of my heart or something.”

Robin nods, knowing. “That happened to me, you know. Lost my magic. Felt like I lost an arm.”

Eddie swallows. “What helped get it back?”

“I met Steve,” she says softly, a fond smile playing around the corners of her lips. “I left home earlier than other witches. I never really fit in. I wanted to go to school. Didn’t know if I even wanted to practice my magic at all. My parents said if I stuck it out, I could leave when I was fourteen. So I did. I waited and counted the days and finally it was time. Spent a year in the city. I loved it. But then, one of my friends… something happened to her.” Robin looks sad and twists her fingers together, fidgeting. “She had to leave the city. When she left, I got really sick. Couldn’t do magic for almost a year.”

“A year?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open. “I can’t not fly for a whole year.”

Robin hums. “You figure it out. You have to. Some days it’s more noticeable than others.”

“But you met Steve. And you got your magic back?” Eddie prompts.

“Yeah. It’s like that saying, you know the one? ‘True love makes the best magic.’” She says it like she’s said it a hundred thousand times before.

Eddie grumbles. “Don’t think I’m gonna fall in love and magically fix my flying problem.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“I didn’t say anything about falling in love.” Robin smiles again, big and bright this time. “There’s more than one kind of true love.”

~*~

Eddie thinks about what Robin had said to him for days. He turns it over in his mind again and again and again.

He starts laying out treats for Kitty. He misses her. Even before he got sick and lost his magic, he’d started to leave her behind more and more on his deliveries. He’d realized he could fly faster without worrying about her falling from inside his jacket.

She’s hesitant, but she starts coming back more. When they sleep, she returns to her place on Eddie’s pillow and Eddie feels good with the soft, warm weight of her next to his head as he slowly drifts into sleep.

Before he’d gotten sick, he’d taken on too many deliveries. He’d stopped having time to chat with the customers, to hear the little stories of their lives, of cleaning the clock tower at the center of town or a new plot point one of the writers had just figured out. He’d missed hearing the explanations of what celebrations he was delivering cupcakes or tarts or heart-shaped cakes for. Delivering on foot gave him a lot more time to stop and watch the street performers, to help tourists with directions. On foot, Eddie began to appreciate the city again, like he had before, when he’d first gotten here. When it felt like he’d been dropped right into the center of a dream realized.

He starts having more dinners with Robin and Steve. He’d stopped doing it so much, not wanting to feel like a wonky third wheel. But they slot him in right next to them, right in the middle. They fill him in on inside jokes and old stories. Sometimes Dustin joins them and Eddie tells stories of Wayne and the strange people who used to appear on their doorstep in search of some of his magic.

Eddie starts to feel happy again.

~*~

A week after he talked to Robin, Eddie brings his broom out into the center of the street. It’s close to dusk, the sun low in the sky, and the bakery is closed for the day. Steve, Robin, and Dustin stand shoulder to shoulder on the sidewalk, waiting.

Eddie breathes deep. He swallows. Breathes again. And then he mounts his broom like he has a million times before. He grips the polished handle. He feels it thrum beneath his fingertips. He takes another deep breath, closes his eyes, and kicks off from the cobblestones.

There’s a strange sort of hush to the street. Eddie can’t tell if he’s in the air. He squints an eye open and sees Steve, Robin, and Dustin waving up at him. He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. He lets out a shout.

He does a few circles around, just above their heads, while they all scream and clap for him. Eddie can’t help but laugh. He’d missed this.

When he finally lands, they all rush to hug him. Dustin lets go first and then Steve.

Robin’s arms are still around him when she whispers into his ear, low enough so only he can hear it. “See? True love magic.” Eddie smiles again and gives her one last tight squeeze before letting go.

Dustin and Robin head back inside, leaving Steve and Eddie to stare at each other in the empty street. Steve is still grinning, his hands in his pocket.

“How’s it feel?” Steve nods toward the broom.

“Feels like breathing,” Eddie tells him, closing the space between them. Steve’s cheeks flush and Eddie doesn’t miss the way his eyes flick from Eddie’s gaze down to his lips and back again. Steve licks his own lips. “Feels like home.”

Steve is breathing a little harder now as Eddie continues to slowly close the distance between them.

“Feels like magic,” Eddie whispers, before he brushes his lips against Steve’s. He pulls back slightly. “Feels like love.” Steve’s hand comes up to curl around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling Eddie in close for a real and proper kiss, right there in the empty street, under the setting sun.

now on ao3 :)

(For @outpastthebrakers for commenting on the post where I mentioned this!!!! Warning: this was fully written under the influence of a sleeping pill in abt an hour and a half. Don’t hold that against me :P)

#steddie fic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie ficlet #stobin #platonic stobin #Eddie munson is a witch #Robin buckley is a witch #Robin buckley #Kiki’s delivery service au #steddie au #steddie fluff #sorry abt not putting a read more I still can’t figure it out on mobile despite 3000 of you trying to explain. it to me #I’m too exhausted to fix it rn literally abt to pass out as we speak

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thebestofoneshots · 14 days

Text

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.6 K Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort (but also not?) Prompt: At the Potter's. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovely: @aremuslupinsimp

Chapter 49: High Hopes

January, 3rd, 1977

“Kids, come eat something before you leave,” Hope called from the dining room. You were just finishing up packing, Remus had borrowed you his wand and you were putting everything in place (including a mild arrangement of his room that had been evidently changed since you got there) and he had also allowed you to gemino some of the pictures he had in his wall.

You had picked one with the four Marauders, one of 11 year old Remus and Sirius smiling at the camera, one of James and Sirius when they got on the quidditch team, one of Peter working on the map, the one of Sirius you thought was adorable the first time you saw it, one with Lily and Remus doing a presentation and a few others with Sirius and Remus in which you thought they looked adorable or that you could use to tease them later (Hope had given you a few of Rem that were basically gold).

“Coming,” you said as you grabbed the pictures and started arranging them back onto his wall with a flick of his wand. Thankfully Remus’ wand seemed to like you since every time you used it she would respond and do exactly what you’d intended. “Rem, I’m leaving your wand on the desk,” you said after closing the suitcase and taking it in your hands as you stepped out.

“Sweetheart, let me help you with that,” Hope said as she saw you walk with your suitcase in hand and was surprised when she pulled on it and it shot upwards pretty fast. You managed to catch it and her before she tripped backwards. “Levitation spell,” you said with an apologetic smile.

“Sometimes I forget how many useful spells you wizards have for things like this,” she said with a smile and carefully took the suitcase from your hands and sat it in a corner of the room. “Could you add a spell like that to my suitcases, honey?” she asked as she turned to Lyall who nodded in return. “I don’t get why he didn’t tell me about those earlier,” she added as she shook her head. “I’ve got some fruit in the fridge, could you help me get it?” she asked you.

You nodded and followed, this time the fae had sent her an assortment of tropical fruits, everything from bananas to watermelons and dragonfruit. You weren’t sure how they managed to get such a harvest in the middle of winter, but it probably had to do a lot with fae magic that you didn’t yet understand.

Remus was out of his room with a band shirt and a pair of light-wash jeans. He had one of his jumpers in his hands, but his house was warm enough for him to only wear his shirt and clearly he was confident enough to not wear thousands of layers at home. He didn’t mind if you or his parents saw the scars on his arms, you all knew he was a werewolf, and while he was sometimes self-conscious about you seeing them, you had made it clear –on countless occasions– that you would never be repulsed by them.

So when you saw him, with his sweater casually crumpled up in his hand, you couldn’t help but smile. Hope was looking at you attentively, and she was even more confident about her initial thoughts now than she had been by everything she’d gotten from the letters, she just hoped Remus would understand the reference she had given him so she wouldn’t have to be blunt about it.

“What are Sex Pistols?” Lyall asked in a judgeful manner as he stared at Remus’ shirt with a frown.

You laughed because that was the exact reaction you expected a wizard to have after seeing the shirt and Hope was the one to answer, “A muggle band, you’ve heard them!” She said and then she started singing “Now I’ve got a reason, now I’ve got a reason…” Lyall seemed as puzzled as before and Hope just sighed in defeat, “He’s truly hopeless.”

You refrained from making the “Well he has a Hope” pun since it didn’t seem proper to make puns with the names of your friend’s parents. Although, a big part of you thought Hope wouldn’t really mind.

“I thought you said she was a drummer when she was in a band,” you said, turning to Remus with a gasp.

“I was,” she said with a shrug.

“But your singing is fantastic!”

She smiled. “Someone appreciates it,” she added in an exaggerated tone and walked your way, placed her hands on your back and motioned for you to sit on the table. “Come, darling, you can have all the strawberries left.”

“Mum!” Remus complained.

“You’ve never told me I sing nice, Beag Gille. Suck it up, as you kids would say.”

You had to hold back the giggle that threatened to escape your mouth as you sat down next to Hope. She had prepared some toast for jam. Of course, it wouldn’t be just any bread –this was Hope Lupin we were talking about– it was sourdough with dried cranberries and spices. You were going to eat it with butter and jam (that she had made with fae fruit, obviously) and even cream cheese (that one she bought on the muggle market a few miles from the cliffs, she was extra, but she wasn’t that extra).

Hope really had served all the leftover berries on your plate, and she wouldn’t let you offer them to the boys. “They can eat them whenever they’re here, who knows when you’ll come back,” she explained and told you to ignore their pretty puppy eyes.

At least you weren’t the only one who thought Remus had pretty puppy eyes.

You nodded and continued eating, although you slipped two of them under the table in a very muggle magician kind of way, and nudged Remus’ leg with your own. He looked at you confused and you merely nodded downwards as you brought a piece of bread to your mouth. He looked down and instantly noticed your closed fist.

You nodded again and he pulled his hand down in a casual sort of way, brushing his fingers over your hand to let you know he was there since you were telling Hope something about the floating spell. Eventually, he pulled his palm down underneath your fist and you turned your wrist over to let the berries fall on his hand. He allowed his hand to linger just a little bit more, enjoying the fact that he could touch you, and pulled away eventually. Grinning as he brought a piece of bread with peanut butter to his mouth.

After breakfast, you waved your goodbyes to Remus’ parents. Lyall gave you a quick friendly hug and told you to take care and stay out of trouble while Hope embraced you for at least a minute, pulling you close to her as she did and squeezing you tightly.

“Take care, all right? Cailín álainn?”

You recognised one of those words, It’s what Remus had called you and Sirius once. But why would his mother call you “shit”?

“Álainn?” you asked.

“My beautiful girl, of course,” she added and pressed a kiss to your hair.

What did she say? Beautiful girl?!? But wasn’t that–

“Off you go,” she added after finally separating from the embrace. “To have fun and all of that.”

“But not too much fun,” Lyall added with an accusing finger directed towards Remus, but Hope was quick enough to push that finger out of the way and sigh at her husband.

“All the fun you want,” she said and took a small box from the mantel and opened it, revealing the very classic green of the floo powder.

Remus took a handful and you did the same afterwards. “I’ll go first,” he said and threw the powder on the chimney as he said, “Potter’s Manor,” in a very clear voice.

You were about to do the same when Hope pressed a hand on your shoulder. “You are a very strong woman,” she said as she stared at you directly. “A true hero.” You frowned, ready to refute her when she shook her head. “Take care of my Remus, will you? I know he’ll be taking care of you. You’re very dear to him.”

“Always,” you replied, without family left, your friends had become their equal and you would defend them with all your might if the situation needed it. Something like Christmas could not happen again. You refused to lose any more of your people.

Hope smiled and pulled you into a quick hug, before turning you around with her hands and pushing you towards the chimney, “All right, Cailín álainn, no stalling, there are handsome men waiting for you on the other side.” You threw the powder into the fire. “Oh, and write me, darling. I want to hear all of your misadventures!” she said as you murmured the words and disappeared into the fireplace.

Remus was on the other side, dusting off some remnant ashes from his pants as he looked around the living room, it seemed empty, he had already put on his sweater since the living room was chillier than his house, he was probably also being careful, in case there was anyone other than the Potters in the house.

“Did we arrive at the right time?” you asked with a frown as you too dusted off your shoulder.

“Yeah, they said about 10,” Remus replied as he checked his watch. It was 10:15, not English punctuality but that had been on his mum stalling the two of you.

Then you felt a hand gripping you from behind and pulling you upwards from the waist, you would have panicked, if you hadn’t instantly known it was Sirius. The invisibility cloak he had been wearing slipped from him as he buried his head on your neck. You had talked to Sirius and James every day, but that didn’t stop him from clinging to you the minute he spotted you.

“How are you?” He whispered into your neck.

“Kinda constrained,” you replied as you nodded towards his caging hands.

“You know what I meant.”

You swallowed, not quite sure if you were ready to talk about it all again. Thankfully, Prongs was there to save you. He took off the cloak with a rather exasperated sigh. “Pads! We were supposed to get them at the same time!”

“Sorry,” Sirius mumbled in the least apologetic tone you’d heard.

James shook his head and then pulled Moony into a short hug, “Merry Christmas, mate,” he said and then quite literally ripped you from Sirius’ grasp to give you a bear hug.

“James, James, James,” you said as he overdid it with the squeezing.

“Sorry,” he said as he pulled apart and you just shook your head with a smile in return. Sirius had pulled Remus into a similar hug, and he was still hugging the taller boy when James let go of you. You smiled when you saw how cosy they looked against each other and James placed his arm around your shoulder.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” James said with a smile. “We need to discuss Marauder’s business.”

“But Peter’s not here,” you said. Sirius pulled apart from Remus who looked a little phased, took your suitcase and placed it on the table before plopping down on the sofa.

“He’s on a family trip in Italy, he won’t be back ‘til after vacation, but we’ll write him the details,” Sirius said and then opened his arms and looked at you. “Come?”

You rolled your eyes but did as told, secretly enjoying how clingy Sirius was, and sat on his lap like you often did. James sat on the table in front of you and pulled Moony by the arm so he would sit on the right in front of him, next to you and Sirius.

“We were thinking about a small little prank,” he said, “to mark our coming back to school and all that.”

“Yeah?” You asked, reclining onto Sirius and getting a little more comfortable. Remus, who had had you all to himself for more than a week, was having a rather hard time coping with the sudden space between the two of you. He was tempted to place his hand around Sirius’s shoulders and bring both of you closer to him, but he knew it wasn’t possible.

“So Sirius and I were talking about the time you used the swamp bomb and how we had accidentally trapped a creature inside of it.”

“And,” Sirius started from behind you. “We thought it was really interesting how the creature quite literally busted out the minute you exploded the bomb.”

“It was not interesting,” Remus said almost bitterly. They hadn’t seen you fall, they hadn’t seen you in the water and they hadn’t smelled your fear as you stepped away from the murky water and frosted the lake.

“From an impartial point of view,” you added with a shrug, clearly trying to excuse the boys’ words, you wouldn’t have used interesting to describe it either, but you kind of got what they meant by it. Remus had to hold back a scoff. He was having a hard time tolerating the bursting of the comfortable bubble you had both been immersed in.

“Sorry Vix,” Sirius said with an apologetic look. “But hear us out. What if we put not one, but several creatures inside of a swamp bomb.”

“Define creatures…”

“Tadpoles,” Sirius said from behind, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“You want them to turn into toads,” Remus said as he looked at the two boys, now a bit more invested in the prank. “Why?”

“Because we want to infest Hogwarts with Toads,” James said with a satisfied smile. Sirius pulled a small crystal ball from his pocket and handed it over to you. Very condensed inside it, there was thick murky water.

You took a look, “How many of them did you put in here?” you asked as you handed the ball to Remus, he pulled his hand faster than he normally would from yours, which made you frown. What’s with him?

“About 17 dozen, Peter found a spawning bed filled with hundreds of them and the idea just came to us in an instant.”

“We’ve been flying through the grounds to find some more, but most of them are frozen due to the snow.”

“How many have you made?” You asked.

James smiled, pulled a handful from his pocket, and placed it between your hands. Then he pulled another one and left it in Remus' hands. “Peter will be getting more in Italy, he promised.”

“So we’ll have at least a hundred of these?” Remus asked. Sirius nodded. “How are you planning to explode them all at the same time?”

“That’s why you two are here. You’re good with this kind of thing.”

You scoffed with a smile, “You left us the hardest part!”

“Try finding spawning beds and catching them in spheres, Vix,” Prongs retorted with a daring kind of face and stuck out your tongue to him. He gasped as he pulled back and played offended.

“We could time-set them?” Remus offered.

“Yeah, but what kind of charm would do that?” You asked. “A freezing charm, hiding them in the corner of classrooms and having them fall during first period?”

“Told you they would figure it out,” Sirius said as he looked at the two of you with a proud smile and side eyes James who had a small frown and pursed lips.

“Oh, that could actually work, but we’d have to perfect the charm so they all fall at the same time, if not they could figure it out and stop them from exploding,” Remus responded to you.

“Does that mean one person would have to charm all of them? There’s no way in hell we’d have enough time.”

“Not if we make the spell and teach the others how to do it,” he retorted. “Maybe we can run some tests… with toadless swamp bombs.”

“Got some of those?” you asked James.

“We can make them,” he responded with a shrug.

And that’s how you set yourself up for the task, while Remus and you figured out how to deal with the spell, James and Sirius went out to make some toadless swamp bombs for you to test them. You didn’t see the Potters until it was dinner time.

Effie was more than thrilled over the fact that you were staying at her house and she asked Mellie and Picksie to prepare some treats for you and Remus while Monty cooked dinner. “Boys, we’re talking girls stuff,” she announced after setting the table and pulled you to the side. You looked at them with a worried expression and Sirius shrugged, while James gave you a teasing thumbs up.

Effie took you to a room filled with books and looked at you with a small frown. “You’ve already talked to Dumbledore?”

It might have been toned like a question, but it sounded a lot more like a statement. “Yes.”

She nodded and placed her hand on your shoulder, she had a sad sort of look on her face that made you feel like you were being pitied, which had you shift uncomfortably. It was completely different to the way she had looked at you back at the train station when you first met her, and you felt like the memories were flooding back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked simply. “Have you talked about it to someone?”

You hesitated to answer. “I don’t,” you said honestly. “I’d rather not think about it altogether.”

She sighed and then nodded, as if she both knew it was a bad idea to suck it all up, and understood exactly where you were coming from. “You should process it, not now–” she added when she saw the deepening of your frown. “But you should eventually talk about it, even if it’s just to yourself.”

You nodded to her words, “Now… since you’ll be staying with the boys and I know you’re dating Sirius, I’ve brought you this,” she said, handing you a crystal bottle with greenish liquid inside.

You knew well what it was since McGonagall had shown you an identical potion back in her special class.

“Monty has already talked to the boys, but I wanted to make sure you were also taking care of yourself. Especially now that–” She didn’t finish, but you knew exactly what she meant.

Especially now that you don’t have a mum.

“Thank you, Effie,” you said honestly, and she instantly pulled you into a hug.

“I’m really sorry for everything you’ve gone through. I’ll work even harder so these kinds of things don’t happen again.” You didn’t say anything, and she continued. “You were incredibly brave,” she added, “defending a friend against them, it must have been a tough call to make.”

That had been the easiest part. You had never hesitated on whether to try to save Nina and your mother. The hard part was failing and having to live with it.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for showing them that we aren’t all on their side and that we won’t stand down to their bigotry.”

You didn’t speak much, but Effie continued to give you praises for a couple of minutes, and then she told you a bit about the order and gave you a small keychain with a protean charm that would allow you to call her in case you ever needed her help. After that, she gave you a small pat on the back and told you dinner was ready.

You were still a little shaken by the time you stepped out of the room and Remus was struggling not to wrap you in his arms and pull you into a tight hug. But it was Sirius the one who did it, he pressed a bunch of kisses to your face and then one on your lips. It was quick, and it had been a second, but it was enough to have James grumble something about being forgotten because you were around, and complaining to Moony when Sirius had you sit next to him, on his usual spot.

Even though the talk with Effie had shaken you again, you were quick to let yourself be drowned by the merry atmosphere, James and Sirius complaining and somehow managed to flip the switch, leaving the problems at the back of your mind and actually enjoying the dinner and conversation even if the words wouldn’t quite reach your mind.

Anything to avoid, anything to forget, even if only for a minute.

Remus had been looking at you attentively throughout the dinner, the way Sirius was being extra touchy with you, he had probably noticed how upset you were too. Sirius wasn’t stupid. But he was waiting for the right time to talk to you. He was giving you space, but holding you close while at it. It was sweet, the two of you were a really sweet match, one made in heaven. And he was nothing more than a serpent, a tempting –or perhaps tempted– serpent that had fallen in love.

He would have to put up some space, he would have to step away, because if any of you had a taste of his apple then that beautiful relationship, that made him feel so many things at once, would crumble, and he would be to blame.

But how could he step away? You had been through hell and back and you needed your friends, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, you needed them. And he was your best friend, for fucks sake. How could he prioritise his feelings over yours? Remus started to feel like a monster again, and it was not because he was a werewolf. But rather because he had allowed himself to bask on the idea of being with you and seeing you with Sirius, how close you were to each other, it just reminded him that it wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible to have either of you.

You might have allowed the conversation to swallow you, but you weren’t blind, you could tell there was something going on with Rem, he was different, he had been different the instant you appeared in Potter’s manor. And while at first, you thought it might have been because he was in a different house, it was like you could almost see the inner conflict inside his eyes. It was something similar to what you saw when you looked in the mirror, but at the same time, it was vastly different.

Whatever it was that was troubling Remus, wasn’t related to what had happened that night, even if he had cried for Nina when you told him the story, even if he had been sad about your mother and had hugged you until you stopped crying, Remus’ mind was plagued with a different feeling, you weren’t sure why, but you knew.

“That was delicious,” you said with a polite smile. “Thank you, Monty.”

Monty beamed at your praise and sent you a very James Potter-like wink, “You’re welcome darling, you may dine here whenever you want. And I mean it, I don’t care if James and Sirius are busy, you’re family now.”

It had been a short, almost throw-away comment, but you felt your heart swell with warmth when he said it. You had lost your parents, but you had gained Hope and you had gained Effie and Monty. You might have felt lonely, but you wouldn’t be alone.

“That’s right,” James said as he placed his hands around your shoulder. “She’s like the sister I never got, isn’t she boys?”

“Well she’s not like a sister to me,” Sirius said and sent you a wink that pulled a small chuckle from you.

Remus didn’t respond.

And again, you noticed. It was like you were noticing many things and a lot of them had to do with Remus. Like that one thing that you had seen hints of in the past was finally revealing itself and you weren’t sure exactly what it was, but you had the feeling that you’d be able to tell soon enough.

“Gross,” James said and pulled you closer to him.

“You’ll take her to her room?” Effie asked.

“Indeed,” he responded as he dragged you up their stairwell, “I’ll even give her a short tour.”

“Aha?” you asked.

He nodded in return and stepped right in front of you when you reached the end of the stairwell. “So, that way we have the office, the library and my parent’s room,” he said and moved to the other side of the hallway and pointed at a door. “This is mine and Sirius’ room, Mum and Dad used an extending charm to make you a room and Rem will stay with us.”

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble…”

“Because you always end up sleeping all together?” James teased. “Mum is open-minded but not that open-minded.”

You gasped and punched James on the shoulder, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He replied. “I believe Mellie and Picksie have already taken your stuff there, so you should be set to sleep if that’s what you want. You have your own bathroom, although there is also one at the end of the hall, you already know the one that’s downstairs, yeah?”

You nodded in response.

“Good, any questions?”

“Nope.”

“Excellent. Now, it’s not that late, and we’re planning to play a muggle board game Sirius got sent by Andromeda. It’s called Monopoly.”

“Oh, I know how to play,” Remus said casually.

“Meet you in our room?” James asked.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod and walked inside yours.

You took a quick shower and changed into a pair of comfortable pyjamas. With a towel still around your shoulders to catch the wetness of your hair, you knocked on their door. James was setting up the game and Sirius looked confused as Remus tried to explain the instructions to him, the three were sitting on the floor. You approached them and after sitting down, you carefully took the instructions from Remus’ hand. Again, he was quick to pull away from you and you tried to ignore the feeling as you sank into your seat and started to read through them. You were also slightly confused. The whole “put houses and hotels” was a concept you weren’t really familiar with, it was nothing like Wizard’s Chess!

“So, you got it?” Remus asked.

“I have to pay if I fall on your property? But why? You would never charge me, we’re friends,” Sirius said.

“Yes, but it’s the game’s rule. If he doesn’t charge you because you’re friends then he wouldn’t charge any of us and he would lose the game,” you explained.

“And what’s with this money?” he added as he took one of the bills from the game. “It looks so weird. But muggles also use paper, I remember that. How do they protect against falsification, like gemino and muggle forgers?”

“Sirius! You’re not thinking of using magic while playing, are you?” You said as you threw him a look.

“Is it against the rules? It’s not in here,” he added as he took the paper from your hands and showed it.

“Of course, it isn’t,” you said as you took it from his hands. “It’s a muggle game Sirius, they don’t add ‘Spells are forbidden’ in the rules like we do.”

“So that means no magic?” he asked.

“No,” Remus and you said at the same time.

“And no duplicating the money if you ran out either,” James warned.

“I’m just saying, it wouldn’t be against the rules.”

You gave Sirius a stern look and turned to Remus, it was as if he instantly knew what you wanted since he handed over his wand. “Accio pencil.”

A pencil flew from James’ desk and towards your hand. You caught it with ease and wrote down two new rules on the paper.

THE USE OF ANY KIND OF MAGIC IS FORBIDDEN

FORGING THE MONEY (BE IT BY MUGGLE MEANS OR WIZARDING ONES) IS ALSO FORBIDDEN.

“Now it’s against the rules.”

“I’ve always found it fascinating how Moony’s wand just works when you use it,” James said as he looked at the item in question in disbelief.

“You’re just jealous you can’t use it,” Sirius said as he took Remus’ wand and effortlessly levitated the pencil back to the desk.

“I’m sure I can if I try hard enough,” James said, taking the wand in his hands and flicking it about. Nothing happened. He flicked it again and still nothing. He did again, with more force, and the pencil flicked from the spot and launched towards him. You were quick enough to move the game board over his face and the pencil’s tip crashed against it.

“Shit, it made a dent,” you said as you pulled the board down and looked at the place that the pencil had, pretty much stabbed into. Right above the Angel of Islington, there was a dent in the shape of the pencil, the graphite tip had broken and was now stuck in the cardboard.

“That would have been your face, mate,” Sirius said while James took Moony’s wand between his thumb and index fingers –as if it had been a bomb– and placed it in front of Remus’ crossed feet.

Remus rolled his eyes and took his wand, he flicked in the air and both the chipped pencil and the gameboard were repaired, he didn’t even have to say a word.

“Yeah, thanks Vix,” He said as he turned to you. You just shrugged in response. It had been almost instinctive, you didn’t even think before acting, you saw the pencil shake and you knew something bad might have happened. “Be my team.”

“There are no teams in Monopoly,” Remus said with a sigh.

“Well we could change that,” James said with a shrug.

“If they didn’t change the rules for me to forge money, then they’re not gonna change them for you to steal my girlfriend.”

“How about we just start playing instead?” you offered, and in between you and Remus started distributing the money and placing things on the board.

“I’ll be the dog,” Sirius said, instantly taking the small metal dog from Remus’ hands.

“I’ll take the car,” James said.

“And you, Little Witch?”

“You pick first,” you said simply, and Remus stared at the pieces left in his hand like he wasn’t sure which one to take, and eventually he took the thimble. Pushing the rest of the pieces your way.

You took the small battleship and placed it on “Go”. The rest of the boys did the same.

“Hey Moons, can I have my £200?” James said.

“It’s only after the first round,” he explained.

“It’s on the rules Prongs, didn’t you read them?” Sirius added as he handed him the paper and James scoffed at his hypocrisy.

You laughed at their interaction and took the dice in your hands before shaking them and throwing them on the board, “Seven? Alright you go,” you said as you handed them to Remus who got a 10. James got an eight and Sirius got a 3.

“Good, so I start,” Remus said and threw the dice again, moving towards the spot marked on the board.

The first couple of rounds were uneventful. You were all just playing around, and it wasn’t until at least 40 minutes later that things started to get a little more complicated.

James had gotten possession of all the orange properties after making a deal with Sirius to exchange an orange for the last railroad that he needed to complete the set. Remus had somehow managed to get the entirety of the 3rd line and while you had 3 houses on Park Lane, no one had fallen even close to either of them in the last two rounds.

“Remus please,” Sirius pleaded. “Please, please, let me go, just this once, I’ll pay you as soon as someone falls on Kings Cross. James is super close, look.”

Remus shook his head. “I’m sorry Pads, rules are rules.”

“But you let Vix go a couple of rounds ago.”

“She gave me her get-out-of-jail card in exchange, and I’ve fallen there twice already. What would you give me in exchange?”

“Moony!” Sirius whined. James had already taken his pink cards a round earlier when he fell and also had no money to pay for it. He would have to mortgage his properties to pay off, and James had already done it once and he had been terribly upset over just getting half of the money he paid for it.

You sighed, you didn’t want Sirius to lose, but you didn’t want him to be kicked out of the game so suddenly either. “How much do you have?”

“£100.”

You nodded and checked your money. You weren’t much better either but you had a bit of a cushion so you pulled the £150 he needed from your bill stack and handed it over.

James gasped, “That’s so not fair! You made me mortgage White Chapel Rode to pay off my debt!”

“I want it back with a 20% over the total when you have capital. And I will not be charged if I fall on your properties until you’ve paid up the debt.”

“Never mind,” James said, swallowing his own words. “Not even because he’s your boyfriend. I mean he would have been better off getting a mortgage.”

“No,” Remus said, charging the money Sirius owed and placing it on his own stack of bills. He currently had the thickest stack and the most properties. Unless there was a massive turn of events, he would win, and you definitely did not need him keeping Sirius’ properties. “Sirius would have had to mortgage at least four properties to get enough money to pay, that would mean he’d have to sell one of his railroads and therefore he would have lost his set, decreasing the total amount of profit he’d get if one of us fell on it. He would have also had to sell the houses in Islington and sell one of his blue afterwards. And only for half the money he spent on them initially. Besides, even if she won’t get charged, we will, so he has a 2/3 chance of getting the money to pay her back. If any of us fall on Kings Cross –and we’re both close– he’ll have enough to pay Vix back and he wouldn’t have sold off any of his properties.

“But only to pay back, and then he’ll be broke again.”

“He’s close to ‘Go’, he’ll capitalise then, and he’ll manage to survive for at least a few more turns. She’s actually saving his ass.”

“That’s because she’s the best,” Sirius said and placed a kiss on your cheek before handing the dice to Remus and he threw them, falling on Park Lane and finally giving you enough money to continue with the next round without major issues.

Sirius and James survived for a couple more rounds, but eventually, they both went bankrupt, James couldn’t pay a debt to the bank and he had to give all his properties back, and since you and Remus had enough money, you had to fight it out to get them on an auction. Sirius lost to Remus later, but this time around he didn’t even ask for a waiver.

“Here, take it all Moony, I cannot fight against your economic skills,” he said dramatically and handed his leftover money and properties to Remus.

James had pulled a pillow from the bed and was soundly sleeping beside you and Sirius, who had pulled you onto his lap shortly after he lost the game and was paying close attention to everything you did within the game. Then you fell into the dеathtrap that Remus had designed on Fleet Street and Picadilly. Losing most of your money after two rolls of the dice. Luckily he fell on Mayfair and Parklane afterwards and you managed to get back most of what you’d lost.

A few more rounds went on and Sirius yawned. Pulling you closer to him. “Just give up, neither of you it’s going to win this one. Moony allowed you to pay half the debt last time you fell on Coventry and you let it slip when he fell on Kings Cross because he promised to do your Herbology homework. At this point, you owe more favours to each other than money.”

“But you can’t give up on this game.”

“Then be ruthless to each other and have one of the two go bankrupt.”

You pouted, and James mumbled something in his sleep, “Moony, no. Let me keep my deed card, please…” The three of you laughed and you leaned down to place a deed card on his hand. He was quick to grip it and smiled.

“How about a truce?” Sirius offered. “I really want to go to bed.”

“Well then go,” Remus said with a shrug.

“I meant all of us to go to bed,” he said nonchalantly. “We haven’t cuddled in a while.”

Remus swallowed, so much for space. “You mean– we’re still doing the cuddle thing?”

“Just in case,” you said, “Moony took Vixen in, but we don’t know if it was just a one-time thing or not.”

Remus knew. Moony had accepted Vixen already, he wasn’t gonna try and eat or chase her unless it was a game. He could just tell you and be done with it. No more Sirius on top of him in the mornings, no more you laying your head on his shoulder before you turned into Vixen. Just him and his own bed. The idea sounded like a nightmare.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, agreeing. “We shouldn’t let our guard down. Just in case.”

“So, shake hands, kiss kiss, and you both win,” Sirius said as he placed his hands on your shoulder and shook them a little.

You laughed and extended your hand for Remus to shake, “Truce?”

“Truce,” he replied with a nod.

“Let’s go then,” Sirius said as he patted your leg and pushed you to stand.

“I’ll go wash my teeth,” you said as you waved at the boys and exited their room.

“How is she?” Sirius asked the instant he was alone with Moony. Well, technically Prongs was there too but he slept like a log, so he might as well be in Narnia altogether.

“You’ve seen her.”

“Yeah, I can tell she’s shaken. Heck, I am shaken and I barely knew the girl. You knew Nina better, didn’t you?”

“Vixen said she was crushing on me after the first study club, remember?”

“That was Nina?” Sirius asked, shocked as he took a deep breath. “Anyway, how is she?”

“Quiet,” Remus admitted. “She prefers avoiding the subject entirely. She only told me what happened the day after it happened and then one time when I found her crying outside, she mentioned how she felt. I think it’s much better not to pressure her to talk about it.”

“I assumed as much,” Sirius said with a sigh. “But I’m worried, her smile it… it barely reaches her eyes now.”

Remus had noticed that too. The façade you had created was not enough to hide how you truly felt from either of the two, “I know.”

“How can we change that?”

“We can’t. We can only support her until she feels better.”

“It’s agonising,” Sirius breathed and hid his face in between his hands. And he hasn’t even seen her cry, Remus thought. “You know the way Nina diеd–” Sirius started and looked up, his eyes were glassy with tears. “Vix was trying so hard to defend her, so hard to escape and then she– it was a split second Moony, barely a minute, she was trying to repair the path to continue and they sent a course her way, Nina stepped in, she took the blow instead because she new Vix was already rather weak…. Nina saved her.”

“I know,” Remus said.

“You know what’s the last thing Nina told her?” Remus shook his head. “That she was pleased Vix was the last thing she got to see. She thanked her for saving her, even if she didn’t…” Sirius stopped and wiped his eyes. Witnessing the entire thing in first person had taken a toll on him too, Remus could tell. Sirius wasn’t only suffering for you, but with you as well. He felt tempted to bring Sirius into a hug, even more when he wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

Sirius didn’t feel worthy of crying, albeit he had done it more than once when he was alone, he thought that he didn’t have the right. It had been your mother and your close friend, he had been merely a spectator. What Sirius didn’t understand was that pain wasn’t something to be measured and weighed, it was not something to compare and pin against each other, you can’t say “I don’t deserve to cry” just because someone else has it a lot worse. Your feelings, no matter where they stem from, are valid since they are true for you.

“She stayed there, she was crying on top of Nina, that was the last thing I saw. I– I didn’t think she would move.”

“She wasn’t going to,” Remus said. You had never said that explicitly, but it had been obvious from the way things happened. “She would have kept trying if it hadn’t been for Barty.”

“Barty, of all people,” Sirius said in disbelief. There was a second of quiet and then Sirius turned to look at Remus. He was as beautiful as he remembered, he hadn’t quite realised how much closer he’d veered to him while they talked but they were now much closer, his knees brushing against each other and he was close enough to get a whiff off Remus’ chocolaty scent, he smelled of you too.

Then the knob twisted and the door opened, Remus pulled back hastily and Sirius turned into Padfoot before you noticed he’d been crying. “Everything all right?” you asked with a frown when you felt the tense atmosphere.

You looked at Remus but Padfoot was quicker and ran your way, jumping and placing his paws on your shoulders, his size made you stagger back a little and you laughed when he started to lick your face. Remus stared for a second and then flicked his wand so the game would go back to the box and then took it in his hand to place it on the table, avoiding the sight of the two of you almost entirely.

“I missed you too, big boy,” you said as you brushed your hand over the back of Padfoot’s head, he barked softly in return and then dug his snout into your neck in the same way he did to Remus when you cuddled. You were petting him as Remus finished setting the bed.

The second Remus sat on the bed, Padfoot barked again, softer than he had earlier.

“Go ahead,” you said. “He’s better at petting you than I am anyway.”

Padfoot gave you another short lick and jumped from you and towards Remus, throwing himself over in the same way he had with you, although Remus hadn’t even staggered. You smiled when you saw them.

Sirius was just happy he could hug Rem more now that he was Padfoot and was bossing him around so he would lay on the bed properly by biting his shirt and trying to pull him back. “Oi, Pads, I’m coming,” he said as he carefully unclasped his watch to set it on the night table. Padfoot barked again to hurry him.

“You know Rem,” you said with a sneaky little smile. He hummed in return. “I think Sirius missed us more.” Padfoot’s face changed and he turned to you instantly, barking in retort. “I mean he was calling us often, he had me on his lap whenever he could, and I’m sure he would have asked me to play with his hair if it hadn’t been that we were so busy with the prank.”

Remus smirked. “Oh, he definitely missed you more.” Padfoot now turned his head to him and barked.

“I suppose I win the bet then,” you said with a smile and Padfoot barked one more time before running your way, but you were quicker and turned into Vixen before he placed his paws on your shoulders, sneaking in between his legs as he fell again, slightly startled.

You ran under the bed and crossed the entire thing before jumping over and climbing onto Remus’ lap who was still sitting. He laughed as you brushed your head to his stomach and Padfoot barked at you for being so sneaky. You must have been saying something to each other –since you kept barking– but Remus was clueless as to what that might have been, so he just carefully raised you up and accommodated, allowing enough space for Padfoot to climb into and get comfortable himself.

“Didn’t you say you were tired?” he said with eyebrows raised at Padfoot who had now rested his snout on Remus’ shoulder. “Stop arguing with Vixen and sleep then.” Padfoot lifted his head and barked in return. “If not, we might as well finish the game.”

The dog whined and sank back into Remus’ shoulder. After that, it didn’t take much for Remus soft and purposeful petting, for both you and Pads to fall asleep. Sirius now much calmer, he had both you and Remus around.

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munson-blurbs · 4 months

Note

The ending was adorable 🥹 Everyone is going to ask for the proposal and the wedding and all that amazing stuff… but I really want to see the Disney trip and Wayne on Its a Small World 😂

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: The whole Munson clan embarks on their first trip to Disney World; as expected, it's filled with both magic and mayhem.

WC: 1.8k

A/N: Also requested by @tvserie-s-world!

June 2002

The Munson chaos, as it turns out, is not limited to Hawkins. It tags along everywhere, including family vacations.

Especially family vacations.

“Babe, where’s the sunscreen?” “I wanna see Mickey!” “Ed, have you seen my hat?” “I’m hungry!”

Taking a deep breath, you toss Eddie the bottle of Coppertone, remind Harris that you actually had to get to the Magic Kingdom before seeing any of the characters, find Wayne’s ball cap in the bottom of his suitcase, and scrounge up a baggy of Cheerios for Hendrix.

“Okay, are we ready to go?”

Your question is met with an emphatic chorus of yeses as the five of you leave the hotel room and make a beeline for the shuttle bus.

Eddie tries to scoop Hendrix into his arms; try as he might, your two-year-old’s chubby legs just can’t carry him very far, very fast. He scrunches up his face and squirms out of Eddie’s grasp.

“Wan’ walk!” Hendrix pouts, lower lip jutting out in sheer defiance.

An exasperated sigh escapes Eddie’s lips. “There’s gonna be a lot of walking later, buddy.” But he knows there’s no sense in arguing, and he settles for holding the boy’s hand. He’s heard tales of Disney meltdowns, but he was hoping to avoid one before the day even started.

The Florida heat is no joke. It envelops you like a casing, and you’re grateful for the air conditioned bus. Everyone sits down, Hendrix on your lap, and you lean in to discuss the day’s plans.

“So,” you begin, “I really want to get a picture of all of us in front of the castle. After that, we can split up. I know Harris wants to ride Space Mountain—”

“And Splash Mountain and Big Thunder,” he interjects, a seriousness in his eyes. As though you could have forgotten—all he’s talked about for weeks are those three rides.

You nod in acknowledgment. “One thing at a time.” The reminder is gentle, a nudge to keep him focused on a single goal so he didn’t overwhelm himself. Turning back to the group, you continue the rundown. “Wayne, you’re fine taking Hendrix on a few rides by yourself?”

The older man grins. “Can’t wait to have that damn doll song stuck in my head.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie raise his hand.

“Yes?”

“I’m actually gonna sit Space Mountain out,” he says, sheepishness seeping into his cheeks. “So I can go with Wayne and Hendrix, and then we can all meet up after.”

Harris looks at his father in bewilderment. “Dad, are you afraid?”

“N-No!” Eddie sputters, sighing when you shoot him a glare that tells him to be honest. “I mean, yeah, a little. But you and Mom should still go on it.”

“It’s just you and me, kiddo.” You smile at Harris and return to the task at hand. “And then we’ll all go on the Peter Pan ride together before we grab lunch.”

Everyone nods in agreement, though you know that actually executing the idea will be much more of a challenge. You take the win for now, climbing off of the bus with Hendrix in your arms with the rest of the family behind you.

A jovial melody surrounds you as you enter the Magic Kingdom, putting some extra pep in your step. You feel the excitement building; not just from the boys, but from the adults, too. Neither Eddie nor Wayne have been here before, and they’re just as eager to start the vacation.

Your breath hitches as you make your way down Main Street, U.S.A. and Cinderella Castle finally comes into view.

“I’ll be damned,” Wayne mutters under his breath, his voice breaking slightly. “Looks just like the movie.”

You reach out and take Eddie’s hand, squeezing it gently as the five of you take in the sight. Tears blur your vision, and you can only imagine that Eddie’s experiencing the same.

We did it. We’re at Disney World with our family.

You manage to stave off the tears long enough to ask a Cast Member to snap a photo with your disposable Kodak camera.

“Say cheese!” The woman chirps with a smile of her own, and you all comply–even Wayne.

As soon as the shutter clicks, the usual pandemonium resumes. Harris is tugging on your hand and dragging you towards Tomorrowland.

“Remember, Har,” you say, “we might have to wait in line for a while.” It’s a concept you thoroughly went over prior to the trip, but it never hurts to remind him.

Since you’d started out early, the queue isn’t terribly long; nothing that can’t be handled with a few rounds of I Spy. Before you know it, you’re boarding your tiny rocketship right behind Harris. The ten-year-old is practically bouncing out of his seat, and you’re more than grateful for the lap bar holding him in place.

Harris squeals with delight at each banked turn, even putting his hands in the air as he gets braver towards the end of the ride. Adrenaline buzzes through him when the ride comes to a stop, and he darts for the exit.

“Wait for me!” You call out, and he pauses until you get your very not ten-year-old body out of the cramped vehicle. It used to be a lot easier to stand up when you were his age, but you eventually catch up with Harris to head to Fantasyland.

What you find there is the last thing you would have imagined.

Eddie walks out of one of the myriad gift shops, with Hendrix in his arms and Wayne beside both of them. Your younger son has a pair of Mickey Mouse ears on his head, and one in his hands–for Harris, you assume–but what’s out of the ordinary is what the men are wearing.

“Oh…my…god!” You cackle, and Harris joins you when he sees his dad and grandpa wearing matching tall Goofy hats, the floppy ears swaying against their cheeks.

Eddie grins, doing a small spin that proves more difficult when carrying a two-year-old. “How do we look?” He asks.

Stifling further laughter, you shake your head. “Incredible.” When you reach him, you give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ve never been more attracted to you than I am right now.”

“I think that says more about you than it does me, Sweetheart.”

Harris takes his souvenir from his little brother and slides the string under his chin. Both of them look absolutely precious, and you snap another picture before either can protest.

“Oh, one last thing.” Eddie reaches into a mouse-printed bag and pulls out a gold plastic tiara, covered in glitter with a photo of Belle in the center. He carefully places it atop your head and you secure it against your scalp. “There,” he murmurs, “pretty like a princess.”

A warmth settles into you that is unrelated to the humidity. You swear you could gaze into his eyes for an eternity, losing yourself in the hazel flecks that accentuated the chocolate irises—

“It’s Mickey!”

You follow where Hendrix is pointing; sure enough, the world’s most famous mouse was walking to a designated spot, flanked by an entourage of handlers. It’s the opposite direction of Peter Pan’s Flight, but you’re not about to compete with Mickey Mouse himself.

Hendrix’s jubilation wanes as he gets closer to the character, chubby fingers digging into Eddie’s biceps. When he reaches the front of the line, he begins outright wailing, face buried in his dad’s shirt.

Frowning, you try to peel him away. “Hendrix, it’s our turn!” You tell him, trying to rebuild the excitement with no success. “Don’t you wanna meet Mickey?”

“Too scary!” He sobs, his little body shaking with fear.

You look at your husband, pushing away the urge to freeze up and throw a tantrum of your own. “Okay, I’ll take Hendrix; you and Wayne stay with Har—”

But Harris is faster, nudging between you and Eddie to place a hand on his brother’s back. “Hen, you don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna be right there with you.” He glances at Mickey, then back at Hendrix. “I know he’s a lot bigger than on TV, but he’s not going to hurt you.”

The crying subsides, save for a few hiccups. Hendrix sloppily wipes at his damp cheeks and holds his arms out so Harris can take him. They walk hand-in-hand, the youngest Munson glued to his big brother’s side.

Harris waves at Mickey, imploring Hendrix to do the same. He obliges, albeit timidly, but there’s no mistaking the joyful giggle that escapes him when Mickey returns the gesture.

Eddie laces his fingers with yours, metal rings warm from the summer sun. “Can you get a picture of this?” You nod and reluctantly let go of him, forever capturing the moment with the click of a button.

The rest of the day is spent waiting in line, riding attractions with colorful scenery, scarfing down Mickey-shaped food items, and taking a much-needed midday nap at the hotel. The sleep recharges you enough to head back out to the park after dinner.

The sun begins to set, though the temperature barely drops a single degree. Your group finds a bench right outside Liberty Square. Wayne sits with Hendrix on his lap, Eddie next to him, and you take a seat at the end. Harris stays standing, leaning against the wooden back only to help him get his jumps out.

“Ladies and gentleman, boys and girls!” A cheerful disembodied voice comes over the park’s sound system. “Our fireworks presentation, Fantasy in the Sky, is about to begin. Thank you!”

You dig in your bag and pull out some wax earplugs for Harris. Hendrix extends his hand for his own pair, always wanting to be just like his big brother.

Fireworks light up the sky, bright pink and blue and green hues that leave wispy trails of smoke in their wake. Harris keeps his fingers pressed to his ears to block out any additional noise, but it doesn’t detract from the smile on his face.

Perhaps the only person more enamored with the show is Wayne. The lights illuminate his awe-struck face, mouth agape, as though he’s in disbelief of the magic surrounding him.

Eddie leans down to kiss your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Havin’ a good time, Sweetheart?” he mumbles against your skin.

You nod, looking up and pressing your lips to his cheek. “Are you?”

He takes in the sight of his sons and his uncle, together in a place he’s only ever dreamed of visiting. And he has you by his side; more than that, you are the reason he’s here at all.

“I’ve never been happier.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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wardenparker · 3 months

Note

Heeeeyyy. Congratulations on 2.5k followers. Great Milestone you got there just know we're all proud of you.

Anyways, can I request an angst fic from the propmts "Wait! Please don't go!" and "There is no 'us'." for none other than the slick cowboy, Agent Whiskey/Jack Daniels?

I can wait. Thaaaanksss!

Agent Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels. 1,373 words. "Wait! Please don't go!"/"There is no 'us'." (Warnings: angst) Co-written with @absurdthirst

The house is a disaster when he opens the front door. Making his heart drop and his instincts take over, reaching for the side of his hip even though his pistols aren’t there. He never wears his guns home. “Sugar!” He calls out, eyes searching and trying to make sense of the items strewn around.

If he follows the sounds and the trail of items that have been moved around and messed with, he'll find most of the commotion centered in the bedroom. That's where the most things have changed. Where they have been torn apart and not put back into any semblance of what they were before. Where the center of the heartache really lives.

“Baby! What the hell is going on?” He’s relieved to find you, bag opened and shit being shoved into it like you have thirty seconds to evacuate. He’s also confused as to what is happening. There’s been no alert, no word from Statesman.

"What does it look like, Jack?" You don't stop moving, spitting the words out at him while you shove some rolled up jeans into a travel bag. "I'm packing."

“Why?” His hat is off his head, a frown on his handsome face and his hands on his hips. “Where are you going?”

"I don't want to tell you that." If you tell him, he'll inevitably show up there in a day or two, and you might be weak enough from missing him to undo this stance that you're taking and come home to him again. Your mother said you could come home, so that's where you're going. Your old home. The home where you don't go crazy wondering if Jack is safe or what it is the two of you even are despite the fact that you've lived together for months now and been sleeping together far longer.

“Well sugar, how in the fuck am I supposed to accept that?” He asks, frowning deeply. “Talk to me. Everything was just fine and dandy when I left for work this mornin’.”

"Everything was not fine and dandy." Throwing the jeans down in anger, you whirl around on one ankle to face him with tears pricking at your eyes for only the fourth time today. The decision to leave wasn't an easy one to make, but you've convinced yourself it's for the best. "It hasn't been fine and dandy in weeks, but you refuse to see that. The issues don't magically go away just because the arguement is over, Jack. Or did no one ever teach you that?"

“We talked.” Jack defends, huffing. “What more do you want? We said our piece, what more was there? Did I miss something?”

"We talked but nothing changed." Angry steps seem to be the only ones you have in you today, and you storm across the bedroom to sweep your books off the dresser on the other side of the bed. Your side of the bed. Or it used to be. "If we have a fight because things aren't going well and we talk about the things we need to fix, then we actually have to fix the shit we talk about afterward." There are four novels in your hand, but you notice one of them is a Louis L'Amour novel -- one of Jack's -- so you put it back down and stalk back to your suitcase. "You never fix anything I ask you to unless it's a Honey Do chore. The apartment and the relationship aren't the same thing. Hell, I don't even know what our relationship is anymore."

“This is why you’re mad?” Jack sputters and then huffs. “Because I’m not jumping up and down to talk about my feelings?”

The books follow the jeans into the bag you are haphazardly filling, and you groan at the disbelief in his voice before facing him again. "Yes." You tell him flatly, hating that you let it get this far in the first place. "I'm allowed to be upset about the fact that you are never willing to talk about how you feel about me. I am entitled to be mad about that."

“I show you how I feel.” Jack manages to flash you a grin and waggles his eyebrows. “As often as you let me.”

"Jesus fucking Christ." The groan that rips out of you is downright angry, which holds well enough in line with how you're feeling that you don't bother to stifle it. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Right there."

“Sugar….” Jack lifts his hands, helpless as he realizes that you aren’t taking his little act as something cute. Not like you had before. “What do you want me to say?” He asks seriously.

You pause in your steps, sighing heavily and shrugging your shoulders with so much defeat that you feel like you might just collapse backward on the bed. "Nothing," you admit after a long pause. "I don't want you to say anything. I just want you to let me finish packing so I can go." As much as it makes your heart break, as much as you feel sick to your stomach, this is the decision that you've made. You can't give all of your love to a man who refuses to acknowledge that love even exists.

Jack’s brows pull down, knitting together and he shakes his head. “I don’t want you to go.” He admits quietly, a shiver of dread rushing down his spine as he hears the quiet finality in your tone.

"It's too late." A last sweeping look around the room says that you've packed everything from the bedroom that you care to. This room was last, and then that's it. You'll walk out of this place for the last time and battle with your regrets on your mother's couch for however long it takes. "Maybe the next girl will avoid having her heart broken for a little bit longer because of me, maybe not."

The panic, the fear that he has been avoiding when it comes to emotions starts to set it when you pick up the bags and start to walk out of the room. Jack waits for you to stop, to change your mind like you have before. Never actually going so far as packing before. “Wait!” Jack rushes out of the bedroom when you don’t turn back, don’t come back. He chases you down the hall and into the living room. “Please don’t go!” He begs, his eyes wide and worried.

There are a few things to gather along the way, but your car is almost full and you have your arms full when you pause in the front hall to turn and face him one more time. "Give me one reason to stay," you challenge, knowing you won't forgive yourself if you don't at least let him try. If you don’t give it one last ditch effort. You've been in love with Jack Daniels since the day you met him, but this is the last chance you're going to give him to disappoint you. Unless he's ready to actually say something about real emotions, you're walking out that door. "Tell me why I should."

“You belong here, with me.” Jack tells you stubbornly. “You’ve practically moved in and I’ve - we- we are good together.” Saying the words, truly saying them, has scared Jack to his core. Even with the boss ordered therapy. Afraid the world will rip away another person he loves if he says those words, so he doesn’t.

“If you can’t even muster up the words when I’m about to walk out the door, I think that just proves my point,” you murmur sadly, reaching for the door handle. “Have a good life, Jack.”

“Baby girl, wait.” He reaches out and takes your hand, heart pounding and he feels like he’s about to throw up. Swallowing harshly, he stares into your eyes, trying to say the words you want to hear. “But I have plans for us.” He promises seriously. “Big plans for us.”

“There is no us, Jack.” You whisper, hand on the knob and tears in your eyes. “Goodbye.” His hand falls away and his world crumbles as you walk out the door and out of his life.

______

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nincompoopydoo · 4 months

Text

CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE

BETRAYAL — ; PART 8 / 9

PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.7k SUMMARY: Awakening in an unfamiliar setting with restored memories, you encounter someone familiar. However, a lingering sense of betrayal clouds the reunion. Meanwhile, Theseus uncovers a concealed message in your letters, hinting at the potential discovery of your location. A/N: Hi everyone! I know I said I was going to put this on permanent hiatus until I was ready to pick it up again, but your girl finished her degree (kinda did badly, but glad it's over!), and now I have ample time to put all my energy of my one brain cell into finishing this series before I fall into depression again lol. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for all the love for this series and my baby, Theseus <3 I'm also sorry for ending it with another cliffhanger haha WARNINGS: Angst. Kinda scary shit (I literally scared myself while writing this lol) no beta we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

Your environment is an enigma through the lenses of tunnel vision—hues of darkness circle in textures, contrasts of colour that dance along with your darting eyes. Your slow mind tries to keep up with your sight, unravelling the mysteries of your surroundings.

You first notice wood. Brown, battered, dim–a wooden beam trailing along the expanse of plastered white walls, grimed with dirt and age. Through blinkered sight, you catch a glimpse of light, dim orange hues casting fluttering shadows on the wall. You see it now, a flame dancing upon melting wax perched on a rustic candlestick.

Flame. Fire. Heat.

You remember it all now.

Inferno swept through the foundations of your tiny household, leaving you and the fragility of your lungs gasping for air as you stumbled around for an exit. Yet, things were dense, billowing colours of deep grey and red, blinding your vision. You still feel the parchedness scratching down your throat.

You remember how your hands clambered to grasp something before falling to your knees. You remember how your environment began to twist and spurn before your very eyes, vivid colours of the blaze swirling.

Then, everything went black.

…

…You…

You remember emerald cobblestones—a mesmerising golden statue.

You remember the warmth of the colour red – the trees in fall, the crackling of a fireplace, a desk with scattered papers across its surface.

You remember.

Theseus.

Dim blue eyes. Sad. Freckled cheeks. Flushed. Brown hair curled and tumbled in autumnal hues. Trees. Barcham trees that line the sidewalk are carpeted in autumn gold. The tenement. His home. Warm, petite, charming. Gardenias. Tea. Your suitcase. Magic.

Little glimpses of returning memories flood your whirling mind like gushing water. It’s overwhelming. For weeks, you sat with a sense of longing, a missing piece, settled within the depths of your mind. And now, it all traces back to the odd familiarity of the man you met on the bus. Perhaps you recognised the glint in his eye when his eyes met yours or the patterned freckles along his cheeks, tinted in blotches of red from embarrassment.

You remember.

Your elbows immediately shift under you, perched as you rose midway, wondering yet blurry eyes moving along your surroundings. You’re in a room, and it’s not your own. Small, humble, solid walls encircle your surroundings. You have seen places like these during the war. You push yourself up, weight now on your splayed-out palms on what you realise to be a settee. It creaks at your very touch, and every little shift echoes throughout the room.

Its walls are far from pristine, with petite flowers scattered across the yellowed wallpaper with tears at its curling edges, perfectly still yet timeworn.

Your eyes trace the trails of sunlight that glow through the room, diluted by a translucent curtain that hangs before a window, shadows of a tree swaying in the gentle wind.

There’s a bed on the far left of the room, narrow and meticulously made with a quilt reminiscent of autumn hues. You can barely distinguish its patchwork from where you are, and it itches a part of your brain – a sense of familiarity.

Before you can make sense of that feeling, you are overcome with searing pain. Tearing through your head and coursing through the very confinements of your skull as if something was begging to break free from the back of your mind.

Eyes squeezed shut, you cannot help but bring your palms to the sides of your head, the heels of your hands harshly pinned to your temples, yet all you see are flashing lights dancing around in the darkness.

Then, a flash. White. Blinding.

At that moment, you found yourself transported to an apartment. Yellow-bricked, warm honey-coloured hues of Autumn. Golden, falling leaves. Bright eyes, cheeks tinged with a touch of red. Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun. Like you hold a weight of significance, a tapestry to his existence.

“I know I’ve said this a thousand time before, but I’m sorry. Truly. You don’t deserve to be involved in this.”

You feel yourself smile; tears threaten to slip from your saddened eyes.

“I would usually say it’s alright, but I don’t think I can say it for everything that has happened. But, thank you.”

A hand reaches for his, gentle and soft to the touch. You feel his fingers twitch under your hold.

“Truly.”

Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun.

Theseus looks at you…

Theseus…

Suddenly, you find yourself in a narrow bus. You see him blinking wide-eyed at you, his expression paled. You had said – no, asked something.

“No. I don’t think we do.”

You see it, the pain in his eyes, the sadness in his tone. It clenches your heart, but you don’t know why.

That was the first time he had lied to you.

…

You hear your name.

Distant but frantic. It repeats again and again and again.

A grip on the curve of your shoulders, and you find yourself back in the narrow, unknown room you awoke in moments ago.

But then you see his eyes, his tousled hair. It’s him who calls you.

“Theseus?” you breathed, disbelief flickering in your wide eyes. Without a second thought, your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress shirt as if to ground yourself in the reality of his presence. A counterpoint to the disarray within your mind.

But as Theseus meets your gaze, a furrow forms on his brow, and a shadow eclipses the warmth in his eyes. The frown, subtle yet profound, settles an uneasiness in you. Your grip weakens.

“We need to go. Now.” His tone is cut-throat, laden with urgency, and you cannot help but jolt at his words. You find your fingers slowly releasing their hold as the weight of his statement settles in the room.

He pulls away and reaches for your elbow, swift and deliberately, that reflects the gravity of the situation. His touch is so firm that it prompts you to stand. Questions hang heavy in the air, but you know you’re in some kind of trouble. Yet, you catch your eyes lingering on the dark look in his own, and you can't help but think he's changed since you last saw him. Since you last remembered him.

Something feels…wrong, but you don’t give yourself a chance to even think about it before you’re being led out the door.

The narrow corridor stretches ahead, dimly lit, bricked walls with a single lamp casting a glow across the space, revealing its worn walls and your flickering shadows. The air is cool, carrying a faint scent of dampness that permeates the space. All you hear is footsteps reverberating along the narrow passage, echoing against the walls. You realise you are underground and feel your stomach lurch at that thought, making your skin crawl.

“Come on.” Theseus pulls you along, the grip on your elbow never weakening. You can feel the tension emanating from him, the stiffness in his movements, the rigidity of his jaw.

You find yourself staring at the back of Theseus' head, studying how the dim light catches on his hair. He seems so different.

“Where are we going?” You finally ask.

He doesn’t respond.

Theseus continues to pull you down the corridor, and you take the time to scan your surroundings despite the quickened pace. You see the occasional rusty pipes that snake along the ceiling, contributing to a low mechanical hum and the flickering of overhead lights that seem to swing periodically at a light rumble that makes the ground shake for a second or two.

Then, he eventually comes to an abrupt halt, revealing a dead end. Your feet stagger back, trying to stop yourself from bumping into him. You see Theseus' brows furrowed in thought, eyes darting between the walls, searching. His fingers trace the rugged surface and abruptly pause as you catch sight of a carving on a specific brick, nearly invisible.

Theseus taps it, and a warm glow emanates from the wall. The carving becomes illuminated, and the wall seems to dissolve into seemingly ethereal dust. It shines golden under the dim buzzing lights. What once was a wall reveals an entrance to an alleyway; it greets you with a rush of cool air and the sounds of the city.

You step through the entrance after Theseus as he beckons for you to follow hurriedly. Yet, your focus is elsewhere as you close in on the intricate symbol carved into the brick. As you inch nearer, the features sharpen, and a sudden recognition sparks within you.

It's a Gardenia, delicately depicted.

Gardenias always had a particular significance in your life, and it’s all because of your mother. That same Gardenia on your mother’s necklace is an heirloom that spanned many generations. It was important and personal to her, and you don’t know how or why it is doing here.

Flowers for your mother – a bouquet of Gardenias.

The bigger picture materialises as if the puzzle pieces are beginning to click.

Your place in the unfolding mess remains unclear, but it hints that you've anticipated the arrival of this revelation for a long time.

Theseus is calling for you, a slight note of panic in his voice, but you ignore his calls, remaining rooted in place. As you watch the glow that details the symbol disappear, you wonder if Theseus knows everything, even though you swore you never told a soul.

Unless…

You still don’t know how you got your memories back.

As you finally turn to Theseus, there’s a gripping sense of uncertainty. His approach, marked by a frustrated expression, erodes the strong familiarity you once held for this man, a trust built in such a short time. With each step towards you, that trust begins to dissipate.

That vulnerability quickly turns to anger – betrayal.

“What the hell is happening, Theseus?” you question fiercely, pressing him for an explanation.

Again, Theseus dismisses your insistence and attempts to reach for your arm, but you instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance.

“Answer me.” you insist, voice growing louder, eyes boring into his.

His gaze lingers on your face, and you watch his expression harden, jaw tense.

“Look, you’re in deep trouble right now and it’s best we leave right now he’ll come looking for you.”

He.

Not they. Not she.

Not The Restoration Movement. Not Morrigan.

Something is very wrong.

And his eyes. You can’t quite place it, but something about the look in his eyes has shifted. They look so different.

In moments like these, you aren’t sure what to do, but you know to trust your gut. Your mind races at the possibilities of how this could all end, and the only thing you can think is to run.

And so, you run.

—

Theseus believes he has only survived through self-deceit – the deception of his ability to stay grounded and keep his emotions at bay. His heart was never to be trusted, never to give in or give up. Yet, how does one cope when a situation relies on promised perseverance but is tangled amid his emotions he suddenly lacks control of in your presence?

Theseus knows there was something between the two of you, but he will never admit it despite his now aching heart caused by your sudden disappearance, even though you might as well be considered dead to the muggle world. The thought of your death pulls his thoughts to the night he first met you, how an unforgivable curse nearly struck you, how you looked at him, knowing you couldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been there in time.

Merlin, he hopes you aren’t dead.

No, you’re not. He knows it. You’re relentless. So relentless that death would never want to claim you without a fight. So relentless that you manage to squeeze yourself into his thoughts at every waking hour. Every fibre in him wishes he hadn’t let you slip away that day, wishing he hadn’t abandoned you, betrayed your trust.

He wishes you hadn’t agreed to leave.

To leave him.

Now all alone.

Alone.

Theseus was never certain of his feelings for you when you were ambling within the expanse of the four walls he calls home. Whether affections were simply out of pity or was it his admiration for your entire being, your perfections, blemishes, and everything in between. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn’t be more unequivocally sure that his affections are true because presently, you have consumed all his waking days and nights, leaving a hollowed space perhaps once filled by your presence. The constant worry in his brow made his eyes tired but sleepless due to his fear of the worst for you.

Dread fills his senses, and tears threaten to seep through the cracks of a carefully sculpted, hard-headed man he had spent years practising, performing as a so-called war hero. Theseus never let himself cry, especially over you, not even when you parted with a touch to his cheek. Not even when he set his eyes on you again and you were completely unaware of him.

Yet, it’s the possibility he has lost you forever that he’ll never see you again. Never.

Theseus breathes a shaky breath, fingers clamped in his trembling hand as he tries to remember what he’s been told to do. To find you. To stop Morrigan. To stop whatever mess he has landed you in.

No, you’re not. You’re not dead. He reminds himself again.

The sun had set moments ago, darkness creeping between the cracks of light, shimmering from the candle alight by his tableside and the flames of the fireplace. Its crackling grounds his very notion of stirring into panic. Theseus finds himself tucked in the same corner of his living room, and his couch now houses a collection of books and particular pieces of evidence of your whereabouts.

He merely fears this has everything to do with Morrigan, the Restoration Movement, your supposed living brother and perhaps your mother – also dead. Theseus gains a strong premonition, a gut feeling that your disappearance is all a part of a larger plan than he had initially expected. Your disappearance may have caused a flurry of commotion amongst the Aurors. Still, the ministry has its sights on the movement rather than your supposed connection as more than just your brother, which Theseus feels strongly about. Yet, with Travers breathing down his neck to arrest Morrigan and her acolytes, Theseus needs solid evidence rather than vague instances and misdirected clues that all seem to lead to spiralling trails.

Frankly, his career is at stake, but he couldn’t care less.

He just wants to see you again.

Theseus heaves, fingers carding through his deep brown locks when his eye catches sight of the only two letters that he found to be related to you in one way or another. He finds himself drawn to it, finding the letter from your brother within his grasp for what seems like the millionth time this month. The same words, again and again, were already engraved in his mind.

When he shifts his elbow, the letter catches the candlelight from behind, and something immediately seizes his attention. Something he hadn’t recognised before now.

Inscribed in the very material of the parchment – the symbol of a Gardenia, its intricate lines glowing against the candlelight, seemingly burning. Theseus props up in his seat, back straightened, shoulders tensed, and eyes wide.

Bloody hell…

He scrambles for the other letter, holding it up against the light, eyes settling on the darkened edges of the page only to discover the very same symbol.

A Gardenia.

How could he have been so blind?

It must have been instinct when he decided that the two letters were puzzle pieces meant to be joined. Theseus would try anything at this point.

Seemingly, luck was finally on his side when he pressed the letters together, above one another – new words formed before his eyes, written with burning lines, every curve of each letter appeared between the gaps of the original text to only form a new paragraph.

Sister,

If you're reading this, I'm likely gone, and you're in trouble. Morrigan and The Restoration Movement hide a darker truth. Their agenda involves our mother and a woman named Miriam Monet. I'm unsure of the details, but Miriam plays a crucial role. Stay safe.

As his eyes shift down the page, his heart nearly stops when his name comes into view.

To Theseus,

If you see this, my sister is in danger. You know more than you think.

TAGLIST (tagging everyone who commented in my last post just because it's been awhile <3):

@crumpets-are-better-with-jam

@inlovewithfictionalcharacters27

@aterriblelangblr

@yournewmommy

@mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@never-let-them-change-your-self

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #theseus scamander x you #theseus scamander oneshot #caught in a crossfire

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legendary-pink-dot · 11 months

Text

Airport Pickup

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x female reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected PiV, fingering, semi-public sex, established relationship, light dirty talk because I like to think Frankie is a Sex Talker, Tom has a cousin and he's an asshole too

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Frankie hates airports when he isn't there to fly or work. The crowds, the noise, endless passengers complaining to airport employees who were just trying to do their jobs and get through the day. But he’s sitting there waiting today for you.

Notes: No use of "Y/N". No mention of Frankie's child. Frankie starts off grumpy but gets a happy ending. Thank you @goodwithcheese for the prompt and prodding, and to my magic slut coven for cheerleading @arcanefox207 @magpiepills 💜

Fuck. Frankie hates airports when he isn't there to fly or work. The crowds, the noise, endless passengers complaining to airport employees who were just trying to do their jobs and get through the day. But he’s sitting there waiting today for you, through a lengthy delay of your flight arrival and then another one.

Six weeks was a long time to be apart. Way too long. It didn't help that you'd been halfway across the globe -- the time zones and your respective work schedules had made it almost impossible to stay in touch other than a couple quick calls and some texts. He missed your conversations, the shared dinners after work, the drawn-out nights of sex. Right now, especially the sex.

Frankie frowns as your text comes in: Just landed. Delayed b/c crew was late. Pilot is Cpt Davis 🙄

Captain Davis -- fuck. Tom's idiot cousin Chad. Frankie hated him. Not only was Chad an asshole, but a shitty pilot too. Frankie had had the misfortune of flying commercial on one of Chad's flights and knew within two minutes that the minor pitch, yaw and roll corrections -- or lack thereof, in this case -- during the particularly turbulent takeoff were an indication that this pilot didn't give a shit about his passengers. Sure, a captain's primary job is to get people safely to their destination, but what happened to having pride in your work? Fucking jerk.

Frankie shakes his head in disgust as he heads to the coffee shop for your favorite order, stopping at a convenience kiosk on the way to pick up an extra pack of Dramamine for you. Just in case.

~~ * ~~

You stare dumbly at ten identical black suitcases endlessly rounding the baggage carousel as people push past you. Why is baggage claim always a shitshow? You were exhausted from 18 hours of travelling and jetlag, and the turbulence during the flight had stirred up your motion sickness so badly that you’d run out of Dramamine. Bed sounded good right now. Just your cozy bed, 10 hours of sleep, and Frankie waking you up with kisses and hot licks of his tongue. Is that too much to ask for?

Frankie had texted to say he was in the waiting area, and you were so eager to see him. Six weeks was way too long to be apart, and everything ached to be reunited -- your heart, your fingers, your cunt. Anticipation had gotten too much on the last leg of your flight and you'd even tried getting yourself off in the tiny airplane bathroom, but no luck. It just wasn't happening and you'd given up in frustration, ending with no orgasm and also a nice bruise from banging your elbow against the sink.

Finally, your neon blue bag (chosen specifically to be unique and bright so you didn't have to think at times like these) comes into sight. You haul it off the carousel and head straight for the exit.

Frustration melts away as you spot Frankie waving, making his way through the waiting crowd. He's wearing a green sweater, the one he only puts on for special occasions as his version of "dressing up". It would be an awful color on most people but it perfectly brought out the golden tone of his skin, the richness of his brown eyes, the chocolate of his curls peeking out under his navy blue cap. It makes your heart skip a beat that he still makes an effort to look good for you.

"Come here." He envelops you in a bear hug and you bury your face into his neck, inhaling the smell of fresh coffee, his leather jacket, his freshly washed hair curling out under his cap. The scent of Frankie. You drink your fill of it, of him, cinching your arms around his broad back and letting your body sigh and melt into his. "I missed you so much."

~~ * ~~

Dim lighting in the parking garage makes it feel even colder despite the long welcoming hug, the hot coffee you’d downed in the elevator, the extra Dramamine, even the pre-warmed comfort of Frankie's leather jacket. You hadn't missed how his eyes had travelled up your bare legs as you put the jacket on, taking in and appreciating the sight of you. He did love when you wore sundresses. Which is why you had changed into one before getting off the plane.

Tucked into a dark corner space is his truck, looking lonely with few other vehicles around. Frankie tosses your suitcase into the bed of the truck and immediately pushes you up against the passenger door to kiss you hungrily, his hands firm on the back of your neck and around your waist to press you closer to him, giving you a proper welcome home. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you slip your tongue inside it to generate and seek out more heat.

"Tired?" he checks in after a couple minutes, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. "How's your motion sickness?"

"The Dramamine's kicking in now." You shiver involuntarily in your thin dress. "I'm cold though."

"A sundress, in this temperature? Didn't you check the weather here before your flight took off?"

"But I wore it just for you, Francisco," you whisper, nipping at his mouth. "I know it turns you on."

Frankie groans as he slides his hand along your bare thigh, a featherlight touch against the chill-textured flesh. "You're too good to me. Let me warm you up, cariño. Get in the back seat."

Last time you'd been in the back of his truck, you had been splayed across the bench seat, hands tied by and gripping the seatbelts on both sides as he ate you out, coaxing two strong and heady orgasms out of your body as the sun rose over the beach you had parked at. A good memory, one you had recalled several times during the long lonely nights in your hotel room on this trip.

He opens the door, and you eagerly climb in.

Frankie slides onto the seat, closing the door with a firm but quiet click. You climb into his lap and straddle his thighs, letting him pull you close again, his hands roving under the jacket and rubbing your back while yours snake underneath his sweater to borrow heat from his chest. The curve of his neck and shoulder is warm and you gratefully nuzzle your face into it, inhaling his scent again to imprint it in your memory, so happy to be back.

"Mmmm. Really missed you," you breathe into his skin, the cold tip of your nose rubbing circles over his throat and poking under the neck of his sweater to tease his collarbone. "Missed this."

"Me too. So much," he croons, sliding a hand through your long hair. He adjusts the angle of your head just perfectly to kiss you again, gentle at first and with increasing hunger until your tongue traces his plush lower lip, dipping in to slide in and out of its cleft, and he moans into your mouth.

"Fuck. Do that again."

You continue teasing his mouth with the tip of your tongue as his hands descend to grip your ass and grind his hardening cock against your core, rough denim snagging on thin cotton and lace. You're toasty warm now and you shed his leather jacket, also taking his hat off so you can weave your fingers through the curls in his hair, pulling gently as you rock against him, feeling his heat transfer to your center, the tip of his length in his jeans making contact with just the right spot to make you moan as you rut against him.

Frankie takes advantage of your open mouth and slides a finger in. "Suck. Get it wet for me." You comply and swirl your tongue around his finger, licking and sucking and slurping as if it were his cock, savoring the anticipation of knowing it would soon be inside you.

"Good girl." His finger drips with your saliva and he slides it through your folds, his other hand pulling the crotch of your lace panties aside and holding it there. Letting the cold air kiss your heated flesh. "Hmmm. So wet for me already though, aren't you? So hot," he rasps against your throat, feeling the vibration from the sound that travels up and out of it as he slides a second thick finger into your pussy. You clench around their sweet pressure, his fingers always able to reach places inside you that your own can't.

Within seconds you're shamelessly fucking his fingers, rocking back and forth and building more and more heat in your core, his thumb doing a better job against your clit than your own had in the airplane bathroom, when a bright light flashes through the windshield. Frankie grabs you and pulls you down to lie on the seat, covering your body with his as if shielding you from gunfire. Years retired from Delta Force but his combat instincts never fade, apparently.

"What's happening?"

"Security guard on patrol. I know most of them here and don't need 'em catching me fucking in my truck like a teenager," he whispers into your ear as the flashlight glare fades away. "I'd never hear the end of it."

You stare into his eyes, his face hovering just an inch from yours, those brown eyes you love so much looking darker than ever in the dim fluorescent filtering through the truck. You kiss him with hunger and want. "I need you inside me. Please. Can't wait until we get home."

"I got you, cariño. I'm gonna fuck you good. Get up and turn around."

He hauls you back up and turns you to face the front of the truck this time, straddling his thighs again, and you plant your feet on the floor as he pushes you forward, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free his cock, hard and leaking precum, eager to sink home into you. His hands roam up the front of your dress and gently squeeze your tits. You feel the prickle of his mustache caressing the back of your neck as he presses kisses there, and you shiver from pleasure this time, not the cold.

"Patrol will be back soon. You're gonna be the lookout while I take care of you, okay?"

You hook your fingers around your panties and slide them all the way off.

"Fuck yes, Frankie. Show me how much you missed me."

Frankie groans and grabs your hips, lifting up the hem of your sundress, and you grab the back of the front seats for leverage and control as he slowly guides the thick tip of his cock through your folds and into the first few inches of your entrance, setting on fire every nerve ending along the way. It's a stretch, always a stretch with Frankie, but especially in this position, your thighs spread wide across his lap and toes just barely brushing the floor. Your back arches against his chest as he slides the rest of the way in, all the way to the hilt, your moan mixing with his grunted sigh to echo through the small enclosed space of the truck.

"You like that?" He gives an experimental thrust and you cry out, for another, for more. "Did you miss my cock?"

"Yes," you whimper, your voice shaking but not hesitant. "So much. Give it to me."

The leather of the seats in front of you is smooth on your fingers as you bend further forward, changing the angle, inviting him to fuck you in earnest and he does, his practiced hand finding your clit without you needing to ask. Frankie always wants to give you the world if he could.

You forget the security guards, the time on the clock until they come back, not caring and soon no longer cognizant of whether time is passing normally or whether you've been suspended in it. The only thing in your orbit is the feeling of Frankie's cock travelling deep into your heat and discovering every sensitive spot inside as if it was the first time he's explored it. Fire and tension build in your core as his fingers dig into your hip to hold you in place, his thumb working your clit in tandem with his thrusts, the rough texture adding an extra sensation that you've never managed to replicate alone.

"Fuck." Half a whimper and half a plea, and Frankie answers it with a loud groan. Your fingers grip the seats so tight that you create marks in the leather. "More, Frankie, please, don't stop. "

"So fucking tight for me, cariño." Frankie sounds utterly wrecked behind you, voice rich and full, his free hand snaking up to clutch the back of your neck, holding you at the perfect angle for him to drive in and out relentlessly, deep and hard the way he knows you crave. "So sweet. Always so good to me when you come home."

Sounds reverberate off the windows: heavy breaths, flesh against flesh, your moans, Frankie's grunts and whimpers as his rhythm inside you starts to falter, both of you close.

A final few strokes of his fingers across your clit and the tight coil inside you snaps, his other hand slapping over your mouth just in time to contain your sounds as you cry out, feeling his cock twitch and pulse as he comes hard, spurting hot inside you. He buries his face in your hair to muffle his own loud groan and it vibrates loud across your scalp and down your spine as you grind your ass into his lap a few more times to draw out the pleasure for both of you, your walls fluttering around his softening cock, until the sensitivity becomes too much.

Collapsing back against his chest is all you can manage and his arms encircle you, holding you close and breathing heavy into your hair. You feel his heartbeat as it winds down, slowing its thumping against your back through the thin cotton of your sundress. Your surroundings take shape as you come down from your high: Frankie has got you. You're home again.

A sudden flash of light through the windshield blinds you both. "Morales? Hey man, I thought that was you! Have fun with your girl, see ya at the bar Friday night!"

You both groan. It wasn't even a security guard -- it was Chad Davis and his frat-boy smirk.

"Fuck me," Frankie sighs in disgust. "I hate airports."

#frankie morales x reader #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales x you #triple frontier fanfic #pedro pascal #brown eyed pilot #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fic #pedro pascal characters

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lainiespicewrites · 4 months

Text

Electric Summer

I decided to start something new! I know I said I was going to try to finish Coach Sy first but I just don't have ideas for it. And this would not leave me alone.

Summary: OFC is a camp counselor. She and Sy used to be childhood besties and used to have a summer fling. But when they get older and school ends. She thinks she'll never see him again.

Warnings: none

Let me know what you think. Comments and Reblogs are always welcome

This work is totally my own and I own all my mistakes. Obviously, I don't own Sy.. man I wish

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was easily my favorite time of the year. I love the fall and the smell of the leaves and cozy blankets and warm drinks. It was a beautiful time of year. Fall was my favorite season. But this was not that. This was magic. Summer’s always were. Even when the sun went down at 9pm and the sky faded to black there was still an electric energy that burned in the air. The nights weren’t over just because the sun had fallen. In fact that was the time when the best memories were made. Especially here. It’s so cliche, but to me this is the happiest place on earth. Forget Disney world. No, the best times were had slipping away from mom and dad and spending the summer with friends you hadn’t seen all year, jumping in the lake, tipping a canoe, hiking through the woods at night, sneaking off to steal a kiss with your crush behind the cabin, and warming up around the campfire at night.

This camp built me. It holds my dearest memories from my childhood and adolescents. When they messaged me and asked about coming back as a counselor it was an easy answer.

I looked over at my best friend pouting on my bed while I packed my suitcase.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna be gone all summer!” she grumbled. I laughed, shaking my head at her.

“I told you, you could come too! They need more counselors.” I stated, matter of fact. She scrunched up her nose and raised an eyebrow.

“I love kids but I’m not very outdoorsy, no way I’d last all summer! I’m too pale to be in the sun that long.” she retorted

“Fair, we’ve been swimming once this year and you’re already burnt.” I chuckled. I put another towel in my bag and she took it out and threw it on the bed. I sighed.

“It’s not forever V, you can literally come visit me.” I said “I won’t be on my phone much at all but I can give you nightly updates before lights out!” I promised.

“Fine,” she conceded, repacking the towel for me. “But if you meet somebody and start some whirlwind summer love you better tell me immediately! I want all the details! We haven't spent this long apart literally since we became friends!” I laughed

“I doubt it, but if the perfect man somehow manages to show up to sweep me off my feet at summer camp I’ll let you know!” I told her.

“It could happen! Didn’t you have a lil summer boyfriend when you were younger?” She asked. I thought back to my days as a camper. All the friends I’d made, the silly little camp crushes. Then there was him. For 3 straight summers there was him. I tried to resist it at first. He was incredibly charming. A lot of the girls had a crush on him. He was energetic and funny and he had this big smile. That first summer we became fast friends. I tried to ignore him but he wouldn’t leave me alone. If I got up to leave the group he’d get up and ask where I was going. When we had to use the buddy system for a game or a hike. He would claim me before one of my girls could. His friends would get mad at him for it. I never understood it. But camp was only 2 weeks long. I didn’t have enough time to dwell on it.

The next summer. He grew. He had to be at least a foot taller. His hair had grown out into these beautiful wild curls. I think maybe he’d started working out. He mentioned he was playing football in school. So maybe that was why he seemed more toned. He still had that big sweet smile. He’d grown into a gentle giant. It must’ve been fate that once again our cabins were paired together as a group. And because we’d become such good friends he sought me out immediately. Pulling me into a big hug.

“Hey girl!” He beamed, squeezing me tight. “Glad we’re here together again, how have you been?” He asked enthusiastically. I chuckled, my arms still wrapped around his middle as I found my footing again. He’d practically lifted me off the ground.

“It’s good to see you too, Logan.” I smiled. Despite how hard I tried, That summer, I could not deny that I had developed feelings for him. I was too shy to tell him. And I loved being friends with him. I didn’t want to lose that. However even though Logan didn’t seem to notice it was painfully obvious to one of my bunkmates.

“You should tell him you like him!” Tasha said, sneaking up behind me. This particular day the girls in our cabin decided to ditch the boys, who were off playing ultimate frisbee or something, and go on a hike.

“What?” I said quickly. She shook her head.

“Girl, you obviously have the biggest crush on Sy, you should tell him.” she repeated herself. I started to chew on my lip nervously.

“Logan? I… tosh… he’s my best friend. Aside from you of course,” I assured her, “I can’t tell him.” I said. She sighed dramatically.

“Why not? He’s literally so nice, the worst that would happen is he’d say he wants to stay friends.Plus I really think he likes you too!” she said hopefully.

“You can’t know that.” I retorted. She shook her head at me again.

“I’ve heard people talk about it. I was in the bathroom last night and I overheard these girls from cabin F talking, one of the girls said she’s really jealous of you because of the way Logan clings to you,” she argued.

“He does not cling to me,” I said.

“We had to tell him our hike was no boys allowed because he was gonna ditch the boys to come with us!” she cried.

“Maybe he wanted to hike?” I argued. Tasha gave up and just laughed.

“Girl you’re hopeless.” she said, as we continued to walk.

A few days later the boys and girls cabin went on a night hike together. It was a tradition. Something we did every year. We walked through the woods when it got dark and played games as a group. I hated it. It freaked me out. I was not a horror movie fan and this was like an invitation for a demon to jump out and attack you. Needless to say I was scared the whole time. Sy picked up on it immediately. Sticking with me the whole time. Distracting me and making me laugh. And when I got really tense on the walk back he grabbed my hand. When we were back in the clearing by the cabins Tasha looked back at us and noticed our hands smiling to herself. She stopped walking until she was next to me on the other side and whispered in my ear.

“Girl if you don’t tell him I will.” I pouted and gave her a look and she just laughed skipping ahead again to hold the hand of this year's camp boyfriend. Needless to say I still didn’t tell him. I spent the next week and a half doing everything I could to avoid it.

On the last day of camp a few of us were sitting in the grass in the sun soaking up the last few hours together before our parents arrived and we had to say goodbye. We were talking about our favorite things we’d done this summer. What we were gonna miss. Promising to keep in touch.

“Hey Logan, you know you only live like an hour from Lainie?” Tasha said all of a sudden.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, looking over at me with a big smile on his face.

“Mhmm.” she continued, "You guys could totally hang out sometime!” she exclaimed.

“How did you know that?” I asked her suddenly.

“I looked it up,” she shrugged. I rolled my eyes but then looked over at Sy, his long legs stretched out in front of him on the grass, leaning back on his elbows, the sun shining down perfectly warming his face. He looked beautiful. He had a sparkle in his eye when I met his gaze.

“What, you don’t wanna see me?” He pouted. “I think it’d be fun! You get your license in a couple weeks right?” He raised his brows eyes hopeful. I was surprised he remembered. We talked about it at campfire a couple nights ago. He told me he was saving up for his own car so he didn’t have to drive his brothers hand me down anymore. And I said I just couldn’t wait to be able to drive without my mom in the car.

“Yeah,” I said, “I do, and of course I wanna see you Logan,” I blushed.

“That’s perfect,” Tasha spoke again. “You guys could go on a date or something!” she winked.

“Huh?” I choked. Glaring at her. Logan didn’t say anything. Or if he did I was too shocked to hear what he said.

“Girl, don't act like you don’t have the biggest crush on him. We all know it.” I could feel everyone's eyes on me now and my cheeks were burning.

“Is that true?” Logan asked softly. I couldn’t look at him. I chewed at my lip trying to come up with anything to make this go away but I couldn’t .

“I-I …my parents are gonna be here soon! I need to finish packing!” I said and stood up quickly running toward the cabin. That wasn’t true. I packed everything this morning. I was bragging about it to him saying I had the whole rest of the day to enjoy what we had left of camp. He knew I was lying. I heard him call after me but I didn’t stop. Not until I got back to our cabin. The boys weren’t allowed there. I could stay there and hide until It was time to go. And that’s what I did. An hour later our counselor came to find me telling me my parents had arrived to take me home. I didn’t see Logan when I was leaving. I didn’t look for him. I was too embarrassed to find him to say goodbye. So I didn’t. I left without a word. And I felt horrible about it.

Another year came and went. Logan and I never met up after summer. I didn’t text him. I was too afraid. And I’d never given him my number. I was beside myself with nerves about returning to camp that next summer. It was my favorite place on earth. And my worst nightmare all wrapped into one. After the way I’d left things with him last year I was afraid to see him. I thought that maybe I’d get lucky and he wouldn’t be there the same week I was. Or we wouldn’t be in the same group. So at least I could avoid him. Even if it was gonna hurt.

Of course that’s not what happened. Again our cabins were in a group. The first day I avoided making eye contact with him. And I always stuck with the girls. I didn’t want a chance for us to be alone together. Conveniently Tasha couldn’t make it to camp this year. So I was stuck in the mess she’d made without her help. He and I were together for group activities but I didn’t talk much. I kept to myself. That worked for the first day. But it didn’t last long. During the afternoon at camp we didn’t have a lot of scheduled activities. So we could pretty much run around and do whatever we wanted. And since we were the late highschool aged group. We didn’t have to follow the “buddy system,” They encouraged it but I guess if we went missing that was on us. It was just after lunch. Maybe 2pm. There was this little circle of bench swings in the park. It was a great place to gather as a group. A lot of times we would sit and reflect on the day there before the campfire at night. But right now no one was there. I liked to keep a journal while I was at camp. To keep all of the memories. So I sat on one of the swings with one leg folded under me and the other dangling off to push myself on the swing. I didn’t see him coming. I was too busy scribbling down all of my thoughts. I didn’t notice anyone was there until I heard the creak of the chains from the swing directly across from mine. I looked up. Logan was sitting on the swing, his arms stretched over the back of it and rocking back and forth on his heel pushing the swing. I set my pen in my journal, closing it slowly, before I could speak, he said.

“Please don’t run,” His voice sounded deeper somehow even though he spoke softly. I knew he was from the south. He always had a bit of a twang but I’d never noticed that drawl like I did now. When he was pleading with me. I swallowed hard and nodded. “I don’t like this,” He spoke again when I remained silent. “I hate that you’re ignoring me.”

“I’m not…” I started

“You are,” He interrupted, letting out a deep sigh. “Lainie,” he said, my childhood nickname. The one he’d started to call me after we all shared fun facts about ourselves. It was the name all of my mothers family had called me since I was a baby. He’d never actually addressed me by my name from that point on. It was always a joke between us. A little sentiment that he claimed as his. It sounded sad now. As he pulled his eyes from the mulch on the ground to meet my gaze. “You are my best friend. You can talk to me. About anything. Hell, I’m closer with you than I am with any of my friends back home.” He said. “I know that things were kinda awkward when we left last summer but you didn’t even say goodbye.” He paused. I bit my lip, starting to feel emotional.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I was so embarrassed.” I finally admitted to him. “I didn’t mean to leave like that. But everyone was looking at me. And I was scared and I was afraid I was gonna lose you as a friend. But I guess I did that all on my own.” I sighed.

Sy stood up and crossed the space from his swing to mine. He paused waiting to see if I’d make room for him. Naturally I did. He sat next to me. Stretching his arm out behind me on the back of the swing.

“You couldn’t lose me if you tried darlin,” A soft smile formed on his lips. If I didn’t know any better, it almost looked sad. I could tell that he was having an inner battle in himself. “Why were you scared?” He finally asked. I swallowed a lump that was forming in my throat. There was no point in avoiding it now. He had to know that I’ve had a crush on him. Even I know that he isn’t too oblivious to realize that much. I felt my breath hitch when I felt his hand cover my shoulder. A gentle squeeze and a soft storking of his thumb brought my eyes to his.

“Because I didn’t want anything to change, what we’ve got going is good,” I spoke barely above a whisper.

“Why would…” He started. But I cut him off before I lost my nerve.

“Because Tasha was right. I did..do have a big crush on you. But it’s silly, and you’re such a great friend to me Logan, I didn’t want to lose that because of how I was feeling.” I rambled.

“Huh,” He breathed. “You have a crush on me? I never would of guessed.” He smirked. I pouted and smacked his shoulder.

“Sy, I’m serious!” I ran my hand through my hair and turned away from him to nervous to hold eye contact. I heard him chuckle softly before I felt his fingertips gently brush across my jaw turning me back to face him.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he paused regaining his composure. “You really think I didn’t notice?” He raised both brows and had a gentle smile on his lips.

“You knew?” I muttered softly still so embarrassed about the whole situation.

“It’s kinda what I what I was hoping for, I’ve only been flirtin’ with ya for two summers now,” He laughed. It was my turn to be confused. I raised an eyebrow. This only caused him to laugh more.

“You?” I paused trying to wrap my head around what I was trying to say. “Wait so?”

“I’d have loved to have taken you out, If you’d have given me the chance.” He explained. I hung my head resting it my hands and groaned.

“I’m an idiot.” I sighed.

“No,” Sy said, “I should have said something sooner, and Tosh shouldn’t have called you out like that. I’d known for a while but, I really liked the way things were between us. I didn’t see a reason for us to push anything.” He said slowly pulling my hand away from my face and lacing his fingers with mine.

“You really liked me this whole time.” I said finally looking up at him, relaxing a bit when he smiled.

“Since the day I met you.” He admitted. I smiled. And squeezed his hand I sat up moving to sit closer to him. I opened my mouth to speak but before I could one of the counselors was interrupting us.

“Hey guys you know the rules. No purpling, No PDA,” They warned us and stood there until Sy let go of my hand. They nodded at us before walking off to montier the rest of the play ground. Some of the younger age groups were playing in the park. ‘No purpling’ such a stupid metaphor. Girls are red boys are blue if red and blue touch it makes purple. It was so annoying.

“I hate that damn rule.” He grumbled. I giggled softly.

“Yeah, me too.” we both just looked at each other and smiled.

After that moment we spent the rest of that summer by each others side. Camp always seemed like such a short time and this time it seemed like it was slipping away even faster. We never made anything official but we did hold hands when no one was looking and occasionally we would sneak off from the group to have time alone.

One evening after dinner a few of us decided we wanted to take out some canoes on the lake. Of course the two of us took one out on our own. For some reason that night Sy was quiet. He had been a lot of the day. I finally decided to ask him about it. “Are you okay?” I asked after a few minutes of silence had passed while we floated in the middle of the lake.

“Yeah,” He answered quickly “Why?” He wouldn’t meet my eye.

“You’ve just been quiet, is something bothering you? You can talk to me.” I assured him. He sat there for a few seconds without saying anything before letting out a deep breath.

“This is gonna be my last summer at camp.” He said softly. My heart sank. I knew he was about a year older than me. And we could only come back as campers through the year after we graduated high school. But he was about to start his Senior year. He still had one more summer.

“But you haven’t graduated yet. You can still come back next year!” I said hopefully.

“It’s not that,” He bit his lip looking out at the water still refusing to look at me. “I signed up for the military. I’m gonna be in the army. I start basic right after I graduate. And then they’ll send me wherever they need me.” He said finally meeting my eyes.

“Oh,” I nodded. “So, after this summer, we won’t ever see each other again.” I said sadly.

“Hey, no,” he said, grabbing my hand, “We still got a whole year. I could come see you or you could drive to me and we… we could make this…” He trailed off.

“Logan,” my voice cracked as I started to speak. “You and I both know it’s not going to work. You’re going to be so busy with football and your friends and your family. And I will be too.” I felt him squeeze my hand and he nodded, a sad look in his eyes.

“I know, but I just got you, I don’t wanna let go yet.” He said. I felt a tear fall and I wiped it away quickly, not wanting to make him feel any worse.

“Maybe, we were only ever meant to have summer.” I said.

“Yeah,” He whispered. “Guess we better make the most of it.”

We spent every second we could together the rest of camp. Hell he even walked me to the bathroom. It killed me to know this was all we were ever going to be. I’d never met anyone like Logan before. I hated to say that I was in love with him. I mean I was only 16 but. It sure felt like it. We did every activity together, sat together at dinner. And he’d put his arm around me at campfire when the adults weren’t looking. The night before camp was over was the annual night hike. He knew how much I hated it. So while the rest of the group headed off into the woods he grabbed my hand and led us to another trail that led to an open grassy field. The boys usually played frisbee or softball out here.

“Logan,” I whispered. “We’re gonna get in trouble.” I said.

“They’ll never notice we’re gone.” He said. Pulling me into his chest and hugging me tight holding me for a moment. “I just wanna be alone with you.” he mumbled into my hair. He walked us out to the middle of the field and sat down pulling me down with him. “Come here.” He said laying back on the grass and pulling me into his side. I snuggled up to him laying my head on his chest. We laid like that for a while just silent. Looking at the stars above us.

“I don’t wanna leave tomorrow. I don’t want to have to say goodbye.” He said. I felt myself start to tear up but I forced them down.

“Are you scared?” I asked.

“No,” He admitted shaking his head. “My dad was in the service and my grandpa, my older brother. It’s just what we do.” He said.

“I hate this.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie to myself anymore or him.

“Me too darlin.” he said. We laid there in silence again. Until he spoke. “Would it… would it be too selfish to ask you to wait for me?” He asked. I felt tense. I sat up laying my hand on his chest and turned to look at him.

“Logan, you don’t need me to wait for you, you’ll meet some pretty girl in your home town. Some girl you can come back home too when it’s all over. You’ll have long forgotten about me when you come home.”

“I could never forget you Lainie,” He said softly. My breath hitched. His eyes bore deeply into mine. Even with nothing but the moon light and the stars lighting his face I could see he meant it.

“Sy,” I whispered. He caressed my cheek sitting up to close the distance between us. This would be the first time we’d ever kissed. Maybe the last. I could feel his breath against my lips as my eyes fluttered shut.

“There you two are!” The boys councelor called from across the clearing. “What were you thinking you had us all worried!” We’d been caught.

We didn’t kiss that night. We never did. The next day when my parents came to get me. He stood there outside of our cabin holding me tight. Neither of us wanted to let go. But he didn’t kiss me goodbye. We couldn’t do it. I guess it was better not to know what we were missing.

“I’m never gonna stop thinking about ya,” He said. As we finally pulled away.

“Neither will I.” I said

That was 7 years ago. We didn’t see each other after that. I cried and sulked the rest of that summer.

I shook my head bringing me back to the present. My best friend still sitting on my bed looking at me expectantly.

“Hello, Lainie,” she snapped her fingers.

“What? Uh yeah, I guess I did have a summer fling. I mean, we were never official, never kissed or anything. But that was years ago. Who know’s where he is now.” I said.

“Who knows. Fate has this way of bringing people together.” She said. I shook my head.

“You’re such a hopeless romantic.” I laughed.

“And you’re hopeless, would it kill you to belive in fairtales. Or romance.” she argued. I just laughed.

“You know what you’re right. You never know what will happen this summer, camp always has been a magical place.” I said.

A few hours later I was finally on the road. I felt the excitement rise up inside me as I passed the familiar rode signs. I was almost there. I thought my heart was gonna burst when I pulled into the long drive under the main archway. After parking my car I walked up to the main building to meet with the camp director.

“Lainie!” She smiled greeting me with a hug. “I’m so happy you were able to join the team this year!” She beamed.

“I jumped at the opportunity Becca, I wouldn’t miss it!” I said.

“We’re glad to have you, I’ll get you checked in so you can get settled and get your cabin set up and meet your co-coucelor. You’re with one of the boys cabins. You’ll be in cabin E and He and his boys are in A.” She smiled.

“Okay sounds great!” I was buzzing with excitement.

“I’ll let you get to it,” she said “I’m sure you remember where everything is!”

I unpacked my car and carried my bag and suitcase to my cabin. It felt so good to be back. I started to unpack and make up my bunk when I heard a knock on the screen door. I figued it must’ve been my co-concelor coming to meet me. I walked to the door stepping out on to the porch of the Cabin, seeing a man standing there. He was maybe 6,1 his hair was buzzed short. And he had a full beard. He had broad shoulders and a warm smile. His eyes went wide when they landed on me. And the moment I met the I knew why. “Lainie?” He asked. Still with that deep southern drawl.

“Logan?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagging my usual suspects, but let me know if you'd like to be added!

This is not the end of this story at all! There is much more to come here I can't wait to get started!!

Link for pt 2

@enchantedbytomandhenry @summersong69 @carrie80reads @identity2212 @caramariehurst @redheadrouge @warriormirkwood @gummydummy19 @deandoesthingstome @shellyshellshell @mary-ann84 @starfirewildheart @foxyjwls007

#captain syverson x ofc #fanfic writing #captain syverson #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #captain syverson smut #august walker #august walker fanfiction

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babyleostuff · 7 months

Text

MY BIG SMALL GREEK WEDDING

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: a greek island + your husband Joshua = the best honeymoon ever

pairing: idol!joshua x fem!reader

genre: fluff | word count: 2k

warnings: taking a bath together (in a non sexual way)

“Josh, honey, you’ve packed everything,” you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at your husband. “And if you keep adding stuff we’ll have to pay for the excess baggage.”

“I just want to make sure we have everything,” he said, rummaging through your suitcase. “Have you packed the swimsuit I got you for our anniversary? You said you wanted to take it with you.”

Usually it was you who panicked before flights, running around the house checking if you had turned off all the electricity, if Joshua’s favourite snacks were in his bag, and if your documents hadn’t magically expired. But this time it was Joshua who for some reason had turned into a panicked mum, his usual calmness nowhere to be seen.

“You’ve asked me that at least three times now,” you smiled, shaking your head. “Yes, I have.”

Walking up to him, you put your head on his back, running your thumbs over his waist. He looked cute with his eyes wide, and a slightly panicked face, but you didn’t want him to stress over a swimsuit, especially not before your honeymoon. “We don’t have time for this, darling. We have to leave in ten minutes,” he said, straightening his back to look around the room for the hundredth time.

“Joshua Hong, what has gotten into you?” You asked, smacking his shoulder. “I just want everything to be perfect, Mrs Hong,” he said and pecked your cheek. “Now go and get dressed. We really have to leave.”

Biting your lip, you nodded and quickly moved towards the hall, so Joshua wouldn't see your smile. You had been married for two months now, but you still couldn't stop giggling like a little girl when your husband called you that, especially since he did it with such ease, as if he had waited his whole life to do it.

And you were convinced that you’d never get used to it.

[...]

“Come on! Hurry up grandpa,” you yelled at Joshua, who was huffing and puffing behind you. The trail you chose wasn’t the easiest, but the website said it had the best views, and the photos taken there supposedly looked like from a fairy tale. “Aren’t you a pro idol?” You asked when he finally caught up to you with a red face and a sweaty forehead.

“I-I am,” he gasped, bending over and resting his hands on his knees. “But they did not train me in climbing,” you giggled, smoothing out his hair that was messed up because of the wind. After a few days spent in the sun, lighter streaks began to appear in them, intertwining with his natural hair colour. “This is a hiking trail for families with children, I don’t think you can call this climbing, honey.”

As if he realised how dramatic he was, Joshua laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “You should take a picture of me and send it to Coups,” he said and grabbed your hand, pulling you to continue walking along the path. “He’d have the perfect blackmail material.”

You smiled, as your gaze followed the curve of the cliff, white houses with blue roofs perched like pearls and the waves of the Aegean Sea crashing against the cliff edge at a rhythmic pace. A gentle breeze carried the scent of the sea and a faint hint of salt through the air.

You unconsciously slid your hand around Joshua's bicep, pulling him closer to you, so your hips bumped into each other when you walked.

“Did you ever think of saying no when I proposed to you?” He suddenly asked, his hand still in yours. You furrowed your brows at his question. “No,” you said immediately. “I always knew I’d say yes.”

A comfortable silence fell between you once again, but you could practically hear your husband think. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just that…,” Joshua sighed, running a hand through his hair. You squeezed his hand a bit harder, as if you tried telling him “it’s okay, i’m here with you.” “I won’t be able to give you that usual married life, and sometimes I wonder whether it was a good thing I proposed.”

You knew exactly what he meant, because you had to deal with it from the day you started dating - you couldn’t go out to a restaurant to eat like a normal couple, you couldn’t say goodbye to him at the airport, and you had to set your Instagram profile to private. There were so many things that you had to give up on, but it didn’t change the fact that you’d do everything over again if it meant being with Joshua.

“We’ve talked about this so many times, honey. If I wasn’t okay with all of this we would’ve broken up a long time ago,” you stated, leaning your head on his arm. “Besides, we’re literally married, stop worrying about whether I wanted to say yes or no. Now come on, we have to reach the top before the sun starts setting.”

Joshua groaned, throwing his head back. “Ugh, give this grandpa a break.”

You laughed, bumping your hip into his. “You could've just said you didn’t want to go hiking, we would-.”

The words died in your throat and you let out a small cry as you felt Joshua’s arms wrap around your waist, as he picked you up and spun around. “I was just joking, darling,” he smiled, pecking your forehead, your back still close to his chest. “I would go to the end of the world with you if I had to,” he said, making kissy noises at you.

“Ew, stop saying stuff like that, or we’ll have to get divorced,” you whined, cringing at his words. You knew he was joking, but you couldn’t help but gag a little. “That was disgusting. Never say that again.”

Joshua laughed, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sure thing, darling.”

You continued walking along the path, immersed in a conversation, your hand in his, to the point where the sky started slowly turning into a mix of pastel pinks and yellows. Neither of you seemed to care, though, it’s not like you could get lost on this little island.

“I don’t know if I’ve told you this today,” Joshua swung your intertwined fingers back and forth. “But you look very beautiful today,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear, as a light blush creeped up on your cheeks. You tilted your head to look at him and scold him for being so sappy, Joshua was never the one for being so dramatically romantic, so you were really taken aback by his sudden change of behaviour.

But his gaze made you even more shy than his words. “Stop looking at me like that,” you mumbled, leaning your head on his arm, so you could escape his eyes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You just… you look so in love,” you bit your lip trying to find the right words without sounding pretentious, but that was exactly how he looked like. “Isn’t that a good thing?” Joshua laughed, his eyes turning into two crescent moons. “Aren’t I supposed to be in love with my darling wife?”

“Stop calling me that!” You slapped his shoulder, making Joshua laugh even more. He threw his arms around your shoulders, and trapped you in a warm hug, your face pressed against his chest. “You have no idea how glad I am that we're married,” he sighed, kissing the top of your head. “Now let’s go, I think there’s a path leading to the beach over there.”

[...]

“I should just pee on you.”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“I won’t let you pee on me!”

“Well, I told you not to go near that jellyfish,” you said, splashing some water onto Joshua’s face. “It’s not my problem that you’re so stubborn.”

Joshua rolled his eyes, grabbing your foot, so you couldn't move.. “No matter how much I love you, I won’t ever let you pee on me,” he smiled, suddenly pulling you closer, making you yelp. “Joshua, you’ll make a mess,” you groaned, looking at the amount of water that splashed out of the tub.

The last thing you wanted was to clean up the bathroom on your first honeymoon night, just because your husband was in a silly goofy mood. “Oh come on, it’s not like you’ll drown.”

You huffed, resting your head on the edge of the tub, staring at the man in front of you. "When we first met, did you know that we would get this far?" He looked away thoughtfully, but you noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes, the same one he and Jeonghan had every time they were about to play a prank on someone. "Honestly, I didn't even like you at first."

“Joshua,” you whined and splashed his face again, but no matter how much he loved to annoy and tease you, you would let him do it all day long if it meant he’d smile as sincerely as he did in that moment - the corners of his mouth sweetly turned up and his eyes crinkled with laughter. “No but seriously, I have no idea. I think I didn’t think about a relationship when we met,” he looked at you, more serious this time. “It was after that one party at Mingyu’s-,”

“Which one? There were so many.”

Joshua laughed, brushing his wet hair away from his forehead. “You know which one. It was then when I started looking at you as more than a friend. But don’t you think that’s a good thing?”

“I guess so,” you slid your fingers over his hand that was resting on the edge of the tub. “We had the time to properly get to know each other, we didn’t rush into anything,” you murmured. “We didn’t feel any pressure. It all happened so naturally.”

“Like it was meant to be,” Joshua finished, grabbing your hand.

His slender finger ran over the ring on your finger, which you still couldn't get used to, but already loved with all your heart. The purple stone contrasted perfectly with the gold wedding band, and you knew someone would have to cut off your finger to get you to take the ring off.

"Why did you choose an amethyst? Wouldn't it be better to use a love stone or something?" Joshua asked thoughtfully. You smiled softly, stroking your thumb over Joshua’s hand. “Amethyst is a symbol of peace,” you said. "And that's what I want for us. For our future to be filled with love and happiness, but also peace."

"I know that not everything will be like in a normal marriage, at least in the beginning, but I want us to always keep that peace and remember that no matter what happens, we are in this together.”

You looked up at Joshua, whose eyes were welling up with tears, and it wasn’t easy to make your husband cry, so you weren't quite sure what to do. “Hey, honey,” you awkwardly moved closer to him, as much as the tub would allow. “Don't cry,” you grabbed Joshua’s face between your hands. "I'm not crying. I just..." he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I'm really glad I have you in my life. I love you."

You felt your own eyes fill with tears, but you didn't let them fall - you wouldn't cry on your honeymoon. “I love you too, Joshua Hong,” you rested your forehead against his, caressing his cheeks gently.

"As long as my heart is beating, I will always love you."

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arent-i-the-fairest · 1 year

Note

If you were aware there’s a theory going on that Rollo will be expelled from NBC and be forcibly transferred to NRC and become a student of Ramshackle. I’m pretty sure that’s not going to happen, but it’s fun to think about.

I wrote a thing earlier about it on my blog, and I can’t help but like the idea of Rollo’s redemption. MC is uneasy at first about their dorm situation, but they slowly get used to it. It gets to the point where they accidentally act like a domestic couple raising Grim and it pisses the NRC students. Jealousy ensues! Can I get headcanons of that?

𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

author’s note : merry christmas-eve everyone! (or merry christmas to those in timezones where it’s already dec 25th!) hoping everyone enjoys the holiday! ♡

⚠️ spoilers for masquerade event !

“long time no see, prefect.” your new dorm student greets. you don’t respond, too stunned to speak.

rollo flamme. the guy that cultivated a supposed to be extinct species of flower to try and rid the world of all magic— and he’s been dropped right into your dorm with no warning whatsoever.

grim took it upon himself to break the silence. “there’s no way you’re stayin’ here! i still don’t forgive you for what you pulled during that trip!” rollo’s forced attempt at a smile finally fell.

“i have just as much of a say in this as you two do; and that is none.” he scowls. “i would’ve taken a different punishment if i could’ve. but this is what my headmaster— old headmaster saw best fit for me.”

“oh.” you cough. “i’ll.. give you a tour. starting with your room.” you give rollo a hand by carrying one of his suitcases for him, and he quietly thanks you.

grim huffs, annoyed that you don’t put up a fight. it’s not like you don’t want to, though. but the cat-monster scampers off somewhere to sulk, and you walk rollo up to his dorm room.

“as run down as it is..” rollo cringed at the sight of dust flying up from his bed when he set a bag down on it. “..i’m glad to have been placed in this dorm.”

you wore your heart on your sleeve— surprise and confusion written all over your face. “you were the only one i could find tolerable to be around when i met you at the symposium.” he shows you one of his rare genuine smiles. “i trust i’m in good hands.”

a tender moment was how it all started.

settling in was a bit of a challenge. grim held a huge grudge against rollo. (a few tuna cans from rollo though, and suddenly he felt a slight change of heart.) you were weary of him as well, but didn’t necessarily hate him. but not even considering the.. incident, it felt strange now having to share a living space with someone other than grim. but you got used to it relatively quickly.

rollo actually settled in quite nicely to the dorm. only to the dorm.. well, and his classes. but he failed to even attempt to get along with anyone from the other dorms, choosing to only hang around you and grim instead. he has no desire in getting along with other mages— he’s only really tolerating grim since he’s so beloved by you. (though he does genuinely start to become fond of him at some point, as much as he hates to admit.) so the three of you became pretty close knit.

trays in hand, you made your way towards your dorm mates.

“lunch is served.” you grin, handing each of the boys their meals. grim hops up from his spot on rollo’s lap, but pouts when he sees the lunch given. “henchman, you promised i’d get a tuna sandwich today!” he whines.

“you had one for dinner last night because you couldn’t wait until today, remember?” you put a hand up, stopping him from protesting. “you can’t have another! tuna every day is bad.”

“listen to the prefect and eat what you have here.” rollo says flatly. grim begrudgingly surrenders, ears flattened as he starts picking at his food.

you place your hands on your hips, grinning triumphantly before finally taking a seat next to rollo. “thanks. putting my foot down is a bit of a struggle for me.” you casually place an arm around his shoulder, and he leans into your touch. ever since he met you, he’s been more thankful that he has such a good poker face than ever.

“could’ve fooled me. you were quite stern.” he smiles.

you start chatting away with him, completely unbeknownst to the fact that there were 21 pairs of eyes, gaze set towards your lunch table— more specifically, glaring at rollo.

the people most bothered by rollo’s arrival were literally all of your friends. especially the ones who came to the symposium— feelings were (understandably) still quite bitter. but anyways, there are different types of jealousy among them. they have different reasons for disliking rollo and different ways of dealing with their feelings and him.

there are 3 groups i’ve generalized—

there are the ones who dislike him because they don’t trust him. of course, it’s mainly the symposium-goers. but there are also ones who didn’t go that just.. get a bad vibe off of him, i suppose. in any case, they keep as close of an eye on him as they can. they want to protect you from him in case he tries anything. (riddle, deuce, jack, ruggie, jade, jamil, vil, epel, diasomnia)

then there are the ones who are sullen. honestly, the main reason they harbor hatred towards rollo is because of how close he is to you. time that you’re out spending with rollo could be used hanging out with him! (ace, leona, azul, floyd, rook, idia)

then last but not last, there are the normal ones. (concerningly, the group with the least people in it lol) the jealousy is there, but they don’t hate rollo like the rest of these guys just seem to do. they’re quiet about their feelings as well. but they cherish every second of attention they get from you. (trey, cater, kalim)

. . . too bad rollo doesn’t care about a single one of them though, lol. he actually sort of enjoys the fact that he’s peeving so many people.

he may not have successfully carried out his crimson-flower plan, but at least he gets to sit in your arms while gloating at a bunch of mages who wish they were in his place.

staying at nrc for his redemption isn’t going as miserably as he thought. (though it’s debatable whether he will ever truly be redeemed or not..)

#i suppose this is my christmas gift to rollo likers lol #gn reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #rollo x reader

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random-fandom-inserts · 1 year

Text

Oswald

After your hippogriff injures his wing, you send a letter to your old friend Newt Scamander, asking for help. Will it spark up old feelings?

Newt Scamander x F!Reader

My first fic with him, so I apologize if it’s bad but for the release of Hogwart’s Legacy, I felt the need to try💖

He hasn’t seen or heard from you in years. Ever since you guys left Hogwarts, contact with each other kind of faded. You’ve been busy with magical beasts, like him, going to remote locations to do so, even discovering a new one. As a Ravenclaw, he knows that your studies matter before all else, but Newt hoped that you guys would keep some sort of contact.

Of course, he could’ve sent you something, but he was too nervous.

Newt had a crush on you back when you guys were fifth years. You seem to care for creatures just like he did. He’s always wanted to say something, but he was too shy. Then you guys grew up and Newt became busy with his own work. Right now, he was back in America after his brother pulled some tough strings to allow him to travel internationally again.

“What’ll it be this time Newt?” Jacob asked his friend from behind the counter. The magizoologist was in the bakery, leaning against the counter with his case by his feet. Deep in thought, he jumped a bit at the voice.

“O-Oh...just the usual, Jacob.” Newt said while also bending down to clip shut one of the locks on his case, which flipped open for a second,

“Oh come on. But that’s so boring.” The man before him tried to push Newt to get something else, anything that he has put more time into, but the wizard wouldn’t have it.

“My usual, please.” Newt said while flashing a tiny smile. Jacob just sighed before grabbing him a blueberry muffin. He grabbed the baked good and began to unwrap when the sudden sound of something hitting the window startled both him, Jacob, and every other customer in the building. Turning around, Newt recognized your owl sliding down the glass.

He quickly rushed outside, where your owl had come to its senses. The bird fluffed its feathers a bit as Newt offered his arm as a perch. The owl flew up there and landed, and that’s when the wizard realized there was a note tied to its leg.

With shaky hands, he undid and read the letter...

“Newt! Where are you going?” Jacob voiced when the wizard rushed back into the bakery and grabbed his suitcase before rushing out again. Your owl has since vanished.

“I need to get to Scotland.” Newt replied, not stopping his gait. As he left the store, Jacob continued to follow, mumbling “Scotland” under his breath with a confused face. However, as he was wondering about that, Newt was already far ahead of him.

“Wait! Newt! Aren’t you gonna pay-” Jacob called out, but Newt had pulled out his wand and apparated.

“...Never mind.” He then mumbled before walking back into his bakery, trying to calm the public down while also generating loud excuses as for what just happened...

Newt landed in a forest. Based on the smell and surrounding vegetation, he would say that he reached his destination. Your letter said that you would be in this area, so he began walking. It didn’t state much besides that you had an injured creature on your hands. He didn’t know what he would be walking into, but at least his case would have everything that he might need. A small chirp in his pocket made him look down to see a dazed and confused Pickett.

“Sorry about that Pickett. Nearly there I believe.” Newt said to the bowtruckle, looking down.

Around a half hour or so, Newt left the cover of the trees and found himself on a dirt path. Upon following it for a bit, he was led to a grassy clearing that had a broken-down wooden cabin and barn. But that wasn’t what caught his attention and stole his breath away.

An onyx-colored hippogriff was laying in front of the barn with you by its side, gently stroking its feathers.

“H-Hello Y/N...” Newt said nervously, catching your attention. You looked over at him and it stole his breath away. You were still just as beautiful as all those years ago if not more so.

“It’s good to see you again Newt.” You said softly, smiling a bit. The hippogriff next to you lifted its head, noticing the wizard. Newt set his case down and lowered his body slightly in a bow, but the hippogriff didn’t seem to care as it got to its feet and hissed at him.

“Oswald! Stop!” You shouted at the beast as he clawed at the ground. Newt bowed even more in hopes it would appease the hippogriff and keep it from attacking, remaining calm as he did so.

But as the hippogriff spread open his wings to show dominance, he squawked in pain before falling back to his feet, where you began to pet him again.

“What happened to him?” Newt asked, concern for your beast overtaking any nervousness he has around you. Upon further inspection, he realized that the hippogriff’s left wing was bent awkwardly. You scootched a bit so he could crouch down next to you.

Close to you.

“He likes to fly, but I can’t always be with him. One time when he went out, he didn’t return for a while. Finally came back, but on foot. I noticed the wing and how his behavior changed each time I touched it.” You explained to him, keeping Oswald calm as Newt examined it. Your hippogriff seemed to calm down, sensing now that you trust this man to help him.

“I’m not to good with injured beasts, especially wings, I thought that you would know what to do...and I knew it would be nice to see you again.” You said with a smile, petting Oswald’s flank as the hippogriff shut his eyes. Newt nearly stopped breathing at your words but managed to compose himself for the sake of the injured creature in front of him.

“Yes, me too, I also am...I mean, I do know how to help him.” Newt struggled with his words, causing you to giggle a bit and his face to flush red.

A bit of prodding and beak-snapping later, Newt managed to secure and set your hippogriff’s wing. Give him around a month or more, and he’ll be back up in the skies in no time. A broken wing was indeed the culprit.

“Oswald...is he yours?” Newt asked as he watched the hippogriff sniff and bite at the work that was done on his wing. You were shoving his head away each time but nodded to answer the question.

“I saved his life and in turn...he saved mine.” It was all that you told him, and Newt didn’t pry. He knows that look in your eyes because he’s had it himself. Oswald was taken by poachers, probably like some other hippogriffs that weren’t so lucky. Newt didn’t even want to imagine what he looked like before you saved him.

Perhaps you could tell him the full story some other time.

“Anyway, what’s been up with you?” Your tone changed from one of sad to one of joy, and the smile was back on your face. Newt has been waiting for a chance to catch up with you, and here it was. He told you all about his travels, America, and so forth. All the creatures he discovered, Pickett popping out to say hello at this point, making you giggle. In turn, you’ve told him how busy you’ve been exploring and studying creatures. He was eager to hear about the new creature you discovered. Tanukisunes (created by yours truly), name meaning something along the lines of “tricksters”, which resembled foxes with multiple tails while having beautiful navy blue fur. Apparently, they like to trick travelers and steal their belongings, guiding them off the path until they are utterly lost. But they aren’t cruel, guiding the lost traveler back to their path after they’ve had their fun-granted, with some items missing.

“Sounds like they’d get along well with my niffler.” Newt said and you laughed, nodding. The two of you then watched Oswald, who has now gotten on his feet, eyeing the both of you, but Newt in particular, this stranger who you seemed to trust.

You guys watched as the hippogriff took a couple steps forward. Ready to intervene, you stood up, Newt mimicking your actions. However, Oswald did something you weren’t expecting.

He bowed.

“It seems Oswald has taken a liking to you after all. Trusts you as much as I do.” You said softly to Newt, causing the wizard to smile to himself at your words. He seemed to shift on his weight as your hippogriff got to his feet. Newt was nervous about something he was going to ask.

“I-I’m happy to hear that about Oswald because...” He hesitated a bit, swallowing nervously.

“Yes?” You urged him gently. Oswald walked over and nudged his shoulder, encouraging the wizard slightly. Pickett poked his head out and began to chatter incoherently, trying to persuade Newt to speak up. He was grateful for the creatures, feeling comfort from their actions.

“Because it’s not safe out here, and...I think it would be best for me to keep an eye on Oswald...j-just until his wing heals so...maybe you could come with me? There’s room.” Newt offered before gesturing towards his case. He was expecting you to hesitate before saying you were too busy, but you just smiled.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make any woman’s heart soar. Pickett chattered in delight, causing you to give him an odd look with a smile. Newt covered up the bowtruckle and gently shoved him back in his pocket. Oswald nuzzled you and you pet his beak in response.

“You’re very sweet, you know that?” You told him with a blush on your face.

“It’s because of you Y/N...always.” Newt told you, smiling softly. Oswald gave you guys looks before swishing his tail a bit, wanting to get on his merry way with you guys. So, Newt opened his case, and the hippogriff took a running leap into it, disappearing inside the larger space hidden within. Relief went in you to know he was safe now.

“After you.” He said politely.

“Such a gentleman.” You teased lightly before going into the case. However, before you disappeared entirely, you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you so much.” You whispered lovingly, and then you went in, the case clicking shut behind you.

Newt was glad you vanished because you missed the lovestruck smile that he couldn’t wipe off his face. And knowing that you might care for him back made him a bit giddy. However, he was mostly relieved to know that you and your hippogriff were safe and sound with him. It was creatures that introduced you guys to each other, and now it was creatures that brought you together again. In the end, maybe creatures will bring you guys together for good.

But for now, Newt knows he has to return to America, with you in tow this time.

He still has to pay Jacob for that muffin.

#fantastic beats and where to find them #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts imagines #newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander imagine

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