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ellecdc · 4 months

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The Drink Snob (part 3)

mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3.1k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: attempted drink tampering, attempted human trafficking, a lot of swearing because it's Remus and reader (obviously)

Synopsis: You take Elle's advice, Remus returns the favour.

You waited at the end of the counter for your mocha to be called through the café. You were feeling pretty good about yourself; you had an interview lined up at a nice restaurant at the end of this week, you’d guest lectured for Minerva and got great feedback from both her and the students, and you’d found time to facetime Elle twice more.

The café was fairly busy with a fair number of students trying to get their caffeine fix between classes. The barista apologized to you for the wait, but you waved him off; “I’m not in any rush right now, take your time.” You had said to him.

“That was quite polite of you.” A voice to your right commented.

You turned and raised your eyebrow at the dark-haired man. His hair was an array of curls pulled back into a low bun, and he kept his onyx gaze fixed on you.

“And that surprises you?”

He smirked at you. “From a yank? I’d have to say a little.”

“Right,” You scoffed, “I’m not American.”

He looked at you strangely at that. “You sound like an American.”

“Maybe I’m just practicing for a part.” You shot back.

He hummed in response. “A budding actress, hm?”

Before you could respond, your name was called at the counter.

“Peppermint mocha for Y/N!”

You picked up your cup and turned back to the man. “As nice as this was, I have to take my leave.”

“Come to dinner with me.” He interjected quickly. You stared at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry?”

“Come on, I want to hear more about this budding acting career of yours.” He said as he winked.

Your immediate thought was hell no. But then you thought of The Man ™ from the pub last week, and how surprising and nice it was to finally connect with someone. Wasn’t this exactly what Elle was saying you should be doing? It went against every part of your better judgement, but this opportunity had been placed in front of you twice, were you really in any position to ignore it?

“What’s your name?” You asked. You were met with a victorious smile.

“Tan.”

You considered him for a moment.

“Fine, one dinner.”

He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, how about tonight? There’s a Spanish fusion restaurant that just opened downtown that I’ve been dying to try. I could pick you up. Say 7?”

You looked the man up and down; you may be stepping out of your comfort zone agreeing to a date with a stranger you met at a coffee shop, but you weren’t suicidal.

“I’ll meet you there.” You offered. Tan seemed to deflate a little, but the emotion passed quickly over his face.

He gave you the address and then actually kissed you on the hand before you turned and exited the café.

Were all Brit’s this bold? Was this just an English thing? You walked back to the faculty building hoping this was a meet cute opportunity you could tell Elle about.

“It’s kinda smart, really.” James commented, taking another drink from his water.

“What is?” Remus asked, not looking up from the salad he was pushing around on the plate in front of him.

“Scouting near the universities.”

Remus looked up at his mate then, his black hair as wild as ever as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His knee was bouncing under the table, and Remus knew he was just trying to make conversation while they waited for Lestrange to make his appearance, but James could be so thick sometimes.

“Yes, James. It’s almost as if the traffickers have a method that they follow to find young women they can pick up.” Remus muttered quietly, finally shifting his gaze up to the door.

“Sorry.” James muttered as he ran his hand through his hair again. “I just hate waiting.”

Remus chuckled. “I can tell.”

James made it through at least a minute and a half of silence before Remus finally took pity on him. “Harry’s so close to walking now, eh?”

James’ face lit up as he began a long tangent of his son’s different methods of movement which ranged from scooting, crawling, shifting, and rolling. “And Moony, yesterday he stood at the coffee table and walked around it all by himself! He was holding the coffee table, but still!”

Remus smiled at his friend’s happiness just as he noticed their target entering the building.

“He’s here.” Remus muttered into his collar which hid his speak piece.

“Greasy bastard, how do they manage to look creepier and creepier every time I see them?” Sirius muttered darkly into Remus and James’ earpiece from his car parked out front.

Sirius hated not being able to join on some stakeouts on account of his family. For example, Rabastan Lestrange is technically related to Sirius through marriage as he is the brother-in-law of Sirius’ first cousin Bellatrix. Sirius and Bellatrix, both Black’s by birthright, and the Lestrange’s have historically held ties to the mob boss Tom Riddle who had his followers call him Lord Voldemort. Pretentious fucks at best, but at worst they were prejuidiced, racist, bigots who were involved in human trafficking, which meant it was very important that they get caught and stopped, not the other way around. Which meant Sirius had to play back-up.

Remus was fine with that. James could be a little annoying on account of his ADHD, but he’d take that over Sirius’ inner rage any day.

Remus got it, he really did; Sirius had been surrounded by this his whole life – born and raised to carry on the Black line of arseholes, and he’s seen things many people haven’t. His family was awful and what these women and children went through at their hands was horrible, but being hot-headed in the field didn’t save them.

Remus figured Sirius would probably make a good police officer if they weren’t so corrupt, though he would struggle playing by the rules.

Maybe in another life.

“He’s got a seat in the far left. It’s secluded and near an emergency exit. Reg, are you able to get eyes back there without being caught?” James asked into his own speak piece.

“On it.” Was Reg’s response.

Remus watched the door as James watched Rabastan. People came and went but James never mentioned a change in our target, so Remus disregarded them.

Suddenly, Remus’ breath caught in his throat. No. Not her.

“We should try the croquettes.” James said - their code.

No.

“No.”

James looked up at Remus. “What?”

“It’s...” Remus started, but he didn’t know how to finish. James kept his eyes on Rabastan as you walked past Remus’ line of sight.

“Wait, is that-” James started but they were interrupted by Regulus.

“I’ve got eyes on the emergency exit.”

“Copy.” James muttered and looked back to Remus. “What is it?”

“What’s going on?” Sirius interjected in their earpieces.

“Is that the girl?” James whispered to him, causing Remus to scrunch his eyes shut.

“Wait, what?” Reg called.

James sighed. “Remus’ girl from The Drunken Sailor, it’s her.”

“Wait.” Sirius yelled causing both men to wince. “The girl Rabastan is meeting, it’s Remus’ girl?”

“She’s not my girl.”

Sirius called out the wrong name. “Right?” Sirius carried on over top of Remus.

“Y/N.” Remus corrected.

“Oh my God,” James said wide eyed at him. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I do not.” Remus started before changing gears, “fuck off, Prongs. Now is not the time. We’ve got to get her out of here.”

“Easy, Remus.” Regulus encouraged him quietly.

“Tell us how you want to go about this.” James added.

Both Black brothers shouted a what over the earpieces.

“The plan stays the same, Prongs. Same as it always is – get her out.” Sirius barked.

“No, Padfoot. This has taken on a new element. If Remus isn’t careful, he could be accused of nefarious actions himself. She’s scheduled for an interview at the restaurant in a few days.” James chided. “It’s your call.” He said to Remus.

She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in this.

She was supposed to go back to school and stay away from dingy bars – and dingy men. She was so clever; how could she have gotten swept up with Rabastan?

No.

Don’t be an arse, Remus.

These men were smart. They knew how to come off completely charming, and targeted women, well, women exactly like her.

She was a student, she was foreign, and she was probably alone when he approached her. She was their perfect target.

Remus just hoped she had kept her wits about her; she had noticed so quickly that his drink had been tampered with, hopefully she’d be just as alert tonight. Remus knew from the staff at the café that she had declined his invitation to pick her up, hopefully she didn’t give him her number, either.

“Do you want me to swap, Remus?” Regulus queried over our earpiece.

Did Remus want him to swap?

What did Remus want?

Remus kind of wanted to be the one to be sitting over there with you.

He turned to look at your table to see you place your jacket on the hook of the booth beside you. As your head was turned, Rabastan’s hand hovered over your glass of water which began to fizz.

“Moons?” James asked quietly again.

But before Remus could respond, you looked back up and your gaze found him. Your eyes and nose scrunched a little as you considered him as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You finally shook your head slightly and offered Remus a small smile before turning back to Rabastan.

Well, you knew Remus was here now.

So much for keeping her out of this.

“Now.” Remus said as he stood from his place at the table.

The world had to be fucking with you at this point, right? You weren’t actually seeing The Man™? He must just be a figment of your imagination?

Apparently, he was not just a figment of your imagination because he was suddenly standing at the end of your table as if he was about to take your order.

“We really must stop meeting each other like this.” He said with a smirk.

You chuckled nervously as you stared at his beautiful face. “Uhm, yeah. Haha. What are the odds?”

“Uhm, do you mind?” Tan said as he considered The Man ™ and you with furrowed brows.

“I do, actually.” He said severely, before a second man with a mop of curly black hair sidled up behind him looking far more pleased than his counterpart.

“Rabastan, my man, it’s been too long.” He said entirely too loudly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you offered the people around you a nervous smile.

Tan seemed to pale at the sight of the newcomer. Suddenly, his glass of water was turned over in front of him as he scrambled to stand. Before Tan could get anywhere, the curly headed man embraced him in an aggressive looking hug that involved an arm around his neck.

“You bastard, I can’t believe we let it go this long without catching up. Why don’t we have a little family reunion, hm? I know some cousins of yours who are just dying to see how you are.” He announced to the entire restaurant as he man-handled Tan to the emergency exit behind your booth.

You watched with your mouth hanging open as the door closed behind them and the restaurant returned to its appropriate volume.

You turned your head towards The Man ™ as he slid into the booth Tan had just been dragged out of for all intents and purposes.

“What?” was all you could manage to mutter.

“Don’t drink your water” was his response.

You looked down to see the table – now pooled with Tan’s water – and sat there in front of you was your water with a filmy layer on top.

“What the fuck just happened?” you muttered more to yourself than anything.

“I returned the favour.” The Man™ replied with a shrug as he mopped up the water on the table that was starting to spill onto the bench of the booth you were seated on.

“What? Were you following me around waiting for some guy to drug me?” You asked incredulously.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

You scoffed in outrage. “Do not tell me to relax you fucker, I was nearly drugged, and lord knows what else.”

“I know exactly what else.” The man snarked back. “He would have brought you out to a van that his buddies would have pulled up upon his command, they would have dumped your purse and all of your belongings in the dumpster behind some business a few blocks away, flown you to Portugal and sold you to the highest bidder, and that’s ignoring everything that would have happened in between. I can assure you, darling, that there was only one fucker here and he was just dragged away by my mate there. So please for all that is holy, relax.” He pressed the end of his sentence as he dumped your glass over as well just as a server came by.

“Oh, let me clean this up for you!” The server exclaimed at the mess just as The Man apologized in faux embarrassment. “I’ll get you two new glasses. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

Completely stunned, you decided to field the question to the infuriating man across from you who, fucking damnit, looked just as handsome as the first time you’d seen him.

“Just the waters for now, thank you.” He said with a smile which flashed his dimples, the bastard.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly which was in stark contrast from his demeanor before the server came.

“I’m fine.” You muttered probably more aggressively than you should have. “Fuck, I’m going to kill her.” You growled as you leaned your elbows onto the table and shoved your face into your hands.

“Who’s that now?”

You groaned, hands still covering your face. “My friend, the bitch. This is all her fault.”

“How so?”

“This was her idea! Going out with him, I mean.” You answered miserably as you leaned back against the booth and crossed your arms.

“Your friend knew that guy?” He asked somewhat alarmed.

You snorted a laugh. “No. She just thought I should get out more. Was so worried about me being all sad and lonely in this new city. This’ll teach her.” You muttered as you picked imaginary lint from your skirt.

The man was mirroring you; leaning against the back of his booth with his arms crossed as he seemed to consider you.

“Is that why you started handing out your CV?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow. “My what?”

The man dramatically rolled his eyes. “Oh, my apologies. I meant your resume.”

You nodded your head in understanding before slamming your hand down on the still damp table. “How do you know I’ve been handing out resumes? Are you actually stalking me?”

“No, even your luck doesn’t seem to be that bad. Though, being nearly drugged twice is not a good track record.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one nearly drugged last time.”

The man smiled at you and something about it felt far softer than you felt the moment called for. “You applied at my mum’s restaurant – the one on 72nd. She was going on about finally having live music in the joint; I saw your CV.”

“I didn’t apply as a musician.” You shouted somewhat panickily. You cleared your throat before correcting yourself. “I mean, I just...I was just looking for a job as a server.”

He squinted his eyes at you before responding. “Well, good luck trying to say no to my mum.”

“What are the chances of me getting drugged if I work at your mum’s restaurant?”

This surprised a bark of laugh from him. “Actually, your chances would be quite a bit lower.”

“I don’t know...” you said suspiciously. “Every time I’ve been with you, drinks have been drugged.”

He hummed as he squinted his eyes. “Hazard of the trade.”

“And what trade is that?”

“Crime.” He said simply. You chuckled, but as you looked back up at the man, you noticed he wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, you’re serious?” You commented.

The corner of his mouth seemed to quirk at your word choice, but he offered you one quick nod.

“But...you’re the kind of criminal to have your drinks drugged and to stop other people from getting drugged?”

He moved his head side-to-side as if to say sort of.

“And you’re telling me this...because?”

“Because” he said as he seemed to square himself, “you ought to know that before you accept the position.”

The Man stood and left some bills on the table. “Are you safe to get home on your own?”

Still reeling from this whole ordeal, you nodded dumbly at him. He offered you a soft smile.

“Take it easy, Y/N.” He said as he left through the emergency exit.

It was only at his use of your name that you realized you still haven't caught his.

Remus was kicking himself. He should have just asked if you were okay and went about business as usual. He shouldn’t have sat with you, he shouldn’t have confessed about his mother’s restaurant, and he definitely shouldn’t have told you about the nature of his career. But he couldn’t let you walk into that interview without knowing what you were potentially getting yourself into.

And what would have happened if you had taken the job and then seen him there? Then you really would have suspected him of stalking.

Well, Remus has technically stalked before, but not in like a stalkery way, you know? It was like...

It was surveillance!

Fuck, he was grasping at straws.

It just seemed like the world was hell bent on shoving you in Remus’ path. And when Remus first met you – he was insistent on keeping you away from him, from this.

But you just had to drop your resume off at his family’s restaurant.

And you just had to get picked up by a human trafficking sociopath.

So, if you were going to insist on walking this dangerous line Remus calls life, you might as well know where the line is.

He didn’t know what he was more worried about: that you’d take his warning or that you wouldn’t.

Continue to part four here.

#marauders era #marauders au #reader insert #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #self insert #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #background jegulily #Sirius black being a little shit #mafia au #remus x reader #remus lupin fic

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horrorstolemyheart · 29 days

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The Lost Boys + Severen With A Socially Anxious Reader

Note: This was a request from @slasher-male-wife. (I will link the original ask here) Thank you so much for this request! I can't apologize enough for taking over a freaking year to post... I kinda fell off the face of the earth for a while (mental health reasons) but I hope you see this and enjoy it though! I intended for this to be out waaayyy sooner, I'm so so sorry for an absurdly long wait 😑.... (also I hope this title is fine and I think I say this every time, but I hope the boys personalities seem pretty fitting and also that I title this as a socially anxious reader...)

Pairing(s): The Lost Boys x reader, Severen x reader

Warning(s): None except for one mention of weed and maybe a curse word or two. If I missed any please feel free to let me know!

David (TLB)

Your initial shyness is actually what drew him to you. It intrigued him. He wanted to break that shell you hid inside and obviously what was inside was an exceptionally attractive person.

It's no lie the moment he first saw you he thought you were incredibly attractive, and of course that meant he had to have you.

He can be a giant asshole, but David never puts you down for being awkward or feeling anxious. You make him soft in that sense.

However, that isn’t to say he hasn’t ever hit a nerve with you. He wants to support you, but he isn’t exactly the best at it. So there have been a few times where he’ll simply tell you to just ‘act like yourself’ in public.

Oh, how you wish it was that easy.

He doesn’t really understand the whole social anxiety thing. But of course, this is from someone who doesn’t give a single fuck what people think of him.

There’s also a possessive part of him, you’re like a little gem to him that only he gets to see. Only he gets to see the real you and that’s only reserved for him. It’s kind of an ego boost for him. And perhaps not the healthiest view in the world.

David does grow soft around you (whether he'll admit it or not, he isn't as subtle as he thinks he is about it) and will feel a little bad if he sees you try to talk to someone and you end up stuttering or stumbling over words though.

He loves to see your lively side. Taking you on bike rides, whooping and hollering along the way with the other boys and he is so very glad to call you his.

Dwayne (TLB)

Dwanye thinks the shy side of you is pretty adorable.

He’s very understanding of your emotions (probably the most understanding of the boys) and unlike David is very good at discussing them.

When he notices you start to stumble over words or zone out in public, he’ll often grab your hand or wrap an arm around you and pull you close as an attempt to reassure you and help you feel more at ease.

Very protective bf.

Very willing to help you overcome the anxiety.

But as much as he wants to see you act the same way in public as you do around him, he’s never going to push you into a situation that would overwhelm you.

You were super intimidated by Dwayne when you first met him. And also incredibly attracted to him.

It took some time for him to get you comfortable around him, he was so gentle with you, and it took you aback to see his wild side as Dwayne has the capacity to be so incredibly calm and on the other side, he can be completely rowdy and wild.

Paul (TLB)

Let's just get this out of the way, Paul’s solution to your shyness and awkwardness?

WEED.

He’s a big believer in the power of the bud. However, if this isn’t something you choose to partake in or feel comfortable doing, he won’t force you. If you do great!

Oh, he may whine a bit and try to convince you it’ll help, but he’ll back off if you insist.

Otherwise, Paul is probably about the best person to be around next to Dwayne. His presence alone is almost like a security blanket. You feel more at ease with him at your side.

Paul loves you to death, and he wishes you would act the way you do when it’s just the two of you, but he understands it isn’t that simple, so he won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.

He knows people would love the smart, silly, lovable you that you are in private and he’s more than willing to help you reach that goal.

So he LOVES to dote on you and brag about you to just about everybody he passes by, talking you up is like a hobby for him.

It took him a minute to understand why you act this way, but he latched on pretty quickly.

Marko (TLB) (of course the only gif I found that fit good was one without Marko :I)

Marko likes to poke some fun at you for acting all shy, remarking that you aren’t that way around him.

He also finds it entertaining to embarrass you the slightest bit in public.

It makes you upset with your boyfriend when he does this, even if it isn't out of malice.

He seems to think if he can get a rise out of you in public that it might help you forget the stiff feeling and anxiety. that you'll realize that you're ok and no one probably even cares as much as you think they might.

In reality when you have gone off on him and someone glances over you feel like you want to crawl into a hole even more than you did before.

Marko gets frustrated. Why can’t you just be you with everyone else? Especially when you act perfectly normal around him.

That's one thing he'll never fully quite grasp the concept of your stiffness around strangers. He's quite capable of coming around after he's gotten over himself, but out of all the boys he seems to struggle the most with this.

He isn't beyond being encouraging, but it's a vicious cycle you have to contend with. You often have to sit him down to explain how he can best help you to be more comfortable and why you have such a hard time in public. After which he settles down and can focus on just being there for you.

Severen

Shy? Never heard of her.

This man is your complete opposite. Well, at least the opposite of what you project to the public.

An outsider would suspect you two to be the least likely pair in the world.

Severen thinks the shyness is very amusing and innocent and yes, he will tease the shit out of you for it. He almost feeds off of it.

Seriousness is very seldom part of this man’s outlook on life.

Don’t be deceived, he isn’t unsympathetic to your anxiousness. But he wants you to partake in all the wild and crazy with him.

He is quite content that he gets to know the real you though. Even if the rest of the world doesn’t get to see it.

“C’mon, sugar, you don’t act like this when it’s just the two of us…”

But because he loves you, he tries to show you there’s no reason to sit back and watch from the side lines.

He will drag you out onto the rowdy dance floor of a hole in the wall bar when he sees you sitting there, eyes as big as saucers.

Over time you will probably overcome some of the awkwardness simply by being exposed to everything that’s the opposite of that.

#My writing #The Lost Boys #The Lost Boys x reader #Near Dark #Severen x reader

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cowpokeomens · 6 months

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nicholas finger fucking you in front of the rest of the guys :(((( n theyre all degrading you for being such a slut that likes when her bf’s friends watch Oh my lord

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!! This started out as a headcanon then turned into 2.5k words. I'm not sorry, but I thought you should know.

It starts with a discussion.

Nicholas, sweet boy that he is, always wants to make sure all parties are enthusiastically consenting before getting into anything. You’re the one who brings it up first- the thought of being watched, the thought of being watched by those closest to him. You had been hesitant to admit how much it turned you on. But Nicholas is nothing if not a devoted boyfriend who will do whatever it takes to make you come, so he gets to work.

Noah is the first to agree. You, he reasons, are objectively hot. He is, objectively, horny 73% of the time. It works out well, he thinks. The nice thing about Noah is that he helps set boundaries with Nicholas. Nicholas quickly realizes that he’s fine with them watching you, fine with them talking to you. But touching you? Out of the question. The mere thought of it gets Nicholas feeling feisty so he decides to save that for another time, after he sees how this goes.

He also realizes belatedly that he's not sure he wants all his bros to see his fully erect dick yet, so that part gets shelved for another time, too. There's lots of ways to make you come without fucking you, though, so he's not even sweating it.

Next up is Nick- who would be the most surprised at the offer, I think. Like, again, hell yeah, you're hot; But also woah Nicholas is sharing? Inch resting. Asks lots of questions about what he can and can't do, makes Nicholas realize that maybe...... Nick has thought about this before. He bookmarks that thought, Nick helps plot how they're gonna do it.

Now Jolly. Jolly likes to watch and I'll die on this hill. I've seen this man on a stage, you’ve seen this man on stage, he has a commanding presence, okay? He very much enjoys the idea of watching a display, doesn't get too hung up on it being one of his best friends and said friend's partner, he's just down to clown.

So with the Avengers assembled, Nicholas gets to plotting. It starts with a cozy night in; There's wine, there's a movie, there's dinner. You're feeling loose as a goose, relaxing on the couch with your back against Nicholas' chest when he pipes up. “Remember what we talked about, about the guys watching?"

Um?? Fuck YEAH you remember!!!!

"Mhm" is your demure reply.

"Wanna try that tonight?" His voice is against your ear, kissing you softly there. You give it some real thought, wanting your answer to be honest, not clouded by worry or anxiety. Finally you realized that, yeah, you were ready, so you tell him so.

You could feel his grin. You didn't see it, but he sent off a quick text to the guys with your affirmative. "Color system sound good?"

"Yep. I'm green. Obviously."

He’d snort, hands coming around to tug at your nipple. It was just supposed to be a night in, so you were absolutely wearing the largest shirt in Nicholas' closet and a pair of shorts.

You’d arch into his hand as he rolled the bud around between his fingers, as his other hand would start tugging at the hem of your shorts, trying to get them off. Lifting up so he could pull them off, his hand immediately cupping your mound. You'd whimper slightly, grinding up into his hand as your eyes slip closed

"Good girl." He'd say sweetly.

"Good girl?" A snide voice repeats.

Your eyes fly open, landing on Noah's imposing figure standing in the kitchen.

"What kind of 'good girl' let's herself be finger fucked on the couch of a shared living room?" He questions as he fills a glass with water from the fridge. He's looking at you expectantly, waiting for an answer you don't have. You feel a rush of wetness at his gaze.

Finally he speaks again. "Folio, come check out the show."

Your cheeks turn crimson at his words, but soon Nick comes into view, freezing when he sees you. A smirk makes its way across his face. "Well, what do we have here?"

Your legs come together instinctively, trying to hide yourself from their hungry stares.

"Nope, open them up" Nick barks. "Noah got to see, now it's my turn."

Slowly, you open your legs back up for them, blushing profusely at the vulnerability. You could feel Nicholas' fingers back on you, stroking your folds softly. He went just a little deeper and you shivered, body arching into him.

"She's so fucking wet, dude." Nick said to Noah.

The way they talked about you- like you weren't even there- sent sparks up your spine.

"Of course she's wet." Noah said flatly. "Little slut likes being watched."

That made you gasp, grinding into Nicholas' hand again.

"Where's Jolly at? He'd get a kick out of this" Noah asked, still looking at you.

"I'm here." came a lightly accented voice in the doorway opposite them. You jumped again at his presence.

"Take a look." Nick gestured with a nod in your direction. Jolly finally looked your way, cocking his head to the side.

"Not much of a surprise, is it? I mean, we all knew she was a greedy little whore." Nick shrugged.

Jolly nods. He's the first to speak to Nicholas. "How many times can she come?"

Your mouth goes dry. You can feel Nicholas looking down at you, then he speaks.

"As many times as I feel like."

You gulp loudly, Jolly giving you an evil grin. "Bit late to be nervous, pretty girl. We can all see how wet your slutty little hole is."

Your mouth is open, panting. "Oh, she likes that." Noah is smiling too, the kind of smile you see in horror films. "Likes knowing all her boyfriend's friends know what a dirty girl she is. How bad do you wanna come?"

Your chest is heaving, you can't even think of words. Nicholas slaps your pussy once, to get your attention, making you moan at the contact.

"Stop being rude. They asked you a question." He pushes.

"I-" You stammer "I wanna come."

Noah rolls his eyes, Nick outright laughs at you.

"You can do better than that." Jolly finally says.

"Please" Your voice is barely above a whisper. "I wanna come so bad, please."

"The little slut does know how to beg, isn't that nice?" Nick croons at you.

They're all slowly moving closer to you, and you finally snap.

"Please, please, I'll be so good, please I wanna come-"

"That's better." Noah praised. "Now take off your panties. They look soaked anyways."

You were scrambling to yank off the garment before he had even finished his sentence. Before you could lay back down, Jolly spoke up. "Shirt too."

You felt your blush deepen, but did as he said, laying back against Nicholas again. "Color?" You heard him whisper.

"Green" you breathed, wriggling around, trying to get comfortable.

"Good girl." Jolly said before Nicholas could.

You didn't have time to linger on that before Nicholas was stuffing two fingers deep inside you. Your back arched off his chest, a wanton moan escaping you.

"Christ, didn't ease her into it, did ya?" Nick muttered.

"She likes it." Nicholas said flatly, pulling his fingers out to thrust them back in.

"Oh yeah? Do you like that, slutty girl?" Noah asked you, sitting down on the edge of the couch.

You nodded profusely, canting your hips into Nicholas' fingers.

"Look at her go, she'd probably just fuck herself if you let her." Noah sneered.

"Let's try it." Nicholas said, halting his movement, fingers still inside you

You understood immediately what they expected of you, shame coloring your cheeks as you began fucking yourself on your boyfriend's fingers in earnest.

You couldn't fight back the moan that you made, hands coming up to cover your face in shame.

“Hands by your sides.” Jolly commanded immediately.

Your hands came down instinctively, fingers digging into your thighs as you looked at them all helplessly.

“Think she could come like that?” Nick wondered aloud.

You could feel Nicholas’ smirk behind you. “Wanna see?”

He curled his fingers up inside you, aiming them just barely left, and- oh fuck.

“Fuck-” was your only warning before you were shuddering through your orgasm, walls clenching around Nicholas’ fingers. Your legs shifted as the waves passed over your body, toes curling. You were still panting when Jolly spoke.

“Again.”

You gasped, head swiveling around to look at each of them. Even Nick was grinning now, obviously pleased with the direction the evening took. Nicholas slapped your pussy once, again, directing your attention back to him.

“Ask to come again.” He demanded.

“What-” You were cut off by another slap, making your whole body shake with the stimulation.

“Color?” He asked quickly.

“Green.” Was your immediate response. He kissed your temple once, then slapped your pussy a third time.

“Ask to come again.” He repeated.

“Can I come again?” You whined.

A fourth slap. You could feel your own wetness leaking out of your hole, sliding down your thighs.

“You can do better than that. Put on a show for our friends.” His words were directly in your ear, breath hot on your neck.

“Please, can I come again, please- I need it so bad, please-” You were a stuttering mess, wriggling around in his lap.

“That’s a good girl.” Nick said approvingly, sounding smug. You didn’t have time to relish in your victory before Nicholas was rubbing at your clit, the slide of his fingers having virtually no drag amongst the wetness of your pussy.

“The little whore is gonna ruin the couch.” Noah stated flatly, as if you weren’t about to lose your mind in front of him.

Jolly snorted. “Like you won’t be in here trying to wring out the cushions into your morning coffee tomorrow.”

“Fuck off.” Was Noah’s quick-witted response.

You could barely hear them over the sensation of your clit being played with, the overstimulation pushing you so close to the edge.

“She wants it so bad.” Nick said with a soft chuckle.

“Tell Nick how bad you want it.” Nicholas’ voice was in your ear again.

“So bad.” Came your hoarse response. “I want it so bad, please let me come again, please, I’ll be good.”

“Such an obedient girl.” Jolly praised. “Do you always do what you’re told?”

A shiver went up your spine. “Um-”

“No, she doesn’t.” Nicholas answered for you. “I had to practically fuck her through the mattress the other day because she didn’t get her way.”

Your eyes glazed over at the memory. You’d been extra bratty that day, but putting you in your place was something you knew Nicholas enjoyed thoroughly.

Jolly tsked at you. “Maybe not so obedient. Maybe you shouldn’t get to come again, if you can’t be good.”

“I’ll be good for you.” Was your automatic reply. Nicholas’ ministrations slowed momentarily, then he plunged three fingers into your waiting cunt.

You came with a sound so carnal that it left your throat sore. You were shaking, whimpering, clawing at the couch beneath you as you all but convulsed in Nicholas’ lap.

“Look at how her pussy is clenching.” Nick sounded amused.

There were tears in your eyes now from the constant stimulation. Nicholas was kissing your head, petting down your hair. “Color?”

“Green.” You whined softly.

“Think you can ride my thigh?” Nicholas questioned, rubbing circles on your hip with his thumb.

“Yeah.” You responded, sounding pitiful even to yourself.

“Three?” Noah asked, looking surprised.

You could hear the smirk in Nicholas’ voice. “She’s had worse.” He shifted you so that his thigh was nestled between your folds, the friction already causing your legs to quake. “Whenever you’re ready, baby.”

You ground down experimentally, eliciting a moan from yourself that surprised even you. The glide was delicious, smoother and gentler than Nicholas’ calloused fingers. You knew you wouldn’t last long.

Still, you continued to ride his thigh, body on full display for the other three men in the room, who were watching you with rapt attention.

“Feel good, slutty girl?” Nick questioned, sounding like he already knew the answer.

You nodded, unable to form a cohesive sentence.

“You have a pretty mouth.” Noah said suddenly. “Shame to see it so empty.”

You shivered at his words, an idea coming into your head. Slowly, deliberately, you brought your hand up to your mouth, popping three fingers in and sucking deeply.

“Poor slut needs all her needy little holes filled, huh?” Jolly goaded, eyes dark. You realized belatedly that all of them were sporting obvious bulges, pants tenting over their cocks. Nick was outright palming himself.

While sucking on your own fingers gave you something to focus on besides the feeling of being set on fire, it wasn’t enough to fight off the tears of overstimulation as you grew closer and closer to your third orgasm. They rolled down your cheeks as you ground yourself further and further onto your boyfriend’s thigh.

“C’mon pretty girl, give us one more.” Nick encouraged, sensing how close you were.

Nicholas’ hands came up to your waist to help slide you back and forth on his thigh, fingertips digging into your flesh. Your free hand came up to rest atop his, as you popped your fingers out of your mouth.

“Nicky, I’m so close, I’m-” You all but sobbed to your boyfriend.

“Shh, I know sweet girl, it’s okay, let go.” He said soothingly.

“No, Nicky I- I-” You stammered.

Realization dawned on him. “That’s okay, baby, you can do it.”

That was all the confirmation you needed as you came with a sob, your slick squirting onto his leg in rivulets. You shook violently as you came, only staying upright due to his hands on your waist. Someone said “Holy shit.” but you couldn’t place the voice, overcome with pleasure as you trembled through it.

You were still shaking as Nicholas pulled you down into his chest, rubbing arcs onto your back. “Good girl, you did so good baby, good job.” He was whispering in your ear softly. A split second later, Noah was there with a glass of water for you. You took it and gulped it down gratefully, giving him a small, “Thank you.”

Jolly was next, laying a blanket over the both of you, hands careful not to brush against you. You hadn’t realized you were shivering, and you were about to thank him when Nick handed you a sleeve of Ritz crackers, making you giggle at the gesture.

“Thanks guys.” You gave them a small smile, tearing open the package and nibbling on a cracker.

“Thank you.” Nick said with a bow, making you laugh again.

“Seriously, I’m gonna go have some ‘me’ time and burn the last 2 hours into my brain so I can recall it when needed.” Noah said with a grin.

“I was thinking of having a frame by frame storyboard tattooed on my back.” Jolly added helpfully.

You snorted. “Guys, please no brain burning or tattoos. There’s always next time.”

They all froze, then spoke in unison.

“Next time?”

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #joakim karlsson fic #ramblin gal #jolly karlsson fic #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #jolly karlsson headcanon #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo rpf #nick folio fanfic #nick folio headcanon #nick folio x reader

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luveline · 1 year

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Hi Jade, I love your writing, I’d love to request more of Steve with his twins x the reader who’s looking for the cat, if you’re interested in writing that! I gotta know if Evangeline is okay

hey babe, thank you for reading! here’s a part two for this | single dad!steve x fem!reader, 3.5k

Despite their very best efforts, Steve's twins can't find Evangeline the lost cat. Sarah, the loudest of the pair, is passionately displeased for a while.

"Dad," she grumbles, hand in his as they walk back home, "I wanted a party."

You promised via a written message on a flyer you'd given Steve that you'd celebrate with him if he found the lost cat. Steve's obviously no stranger to flirting, it's how he ended up with a kid on either side of him at all times, but he figures it was an offhanded sort of thing, some throwaway sweetness. He wouldn't have given much more thought to it, but when Sarah asked him to explain what she'd written he phrased it wrong, giving Sarah the idea that finding the cat would result in a popcorn party with soda pop and karaoke.

"I can throw you a party," Steve says. It's not especially difficult. He doesn't mind expending the extra effort. "We can have a snack party even if we don't find Evangeline. How does that sound, Charlie?"

Charlie's the quiet one. "It sounds fun," he says.

Steve ruffles his dirty blonde hair. The older he gets, the darker it grows. Sarah's hair is already way darker.

"Do you think Evangeline will be okay?" Sarah asks.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Sar-bear. It's normal for kitty cats to run away when they're gonna have babies, they want to be alone."

"Why?" Charlie asks.

"Uh, well," Steve says, not really sure himself, "I think they're trying to keep the babies safe."

"Did you want to be alone?" Sarah asks.

Steve laughs out loud. He's relieved when they reach their front door, grabbing his keys from his coat pocket to unlock it. He doesn't know what to tell Sarah. Where to start? He didn't have the babies, and does she know that? He kind of thought she thought babies came from pumpkins and butternut squash like he told her a year ago. Lucky for him, Sarah forgets her question because she needs to pee, running up the stairs to the bathroom still in her shoes.

He'd rather her trek mud in than pee her pants, but he calls, "Take your shoes off, Sarah! And wash your hands after, please!"

"Yeah!" she shouts back.

Steve slings his backpack over the bannister and looks down at Charlie, who looks up with a similar expression. Rubbing his hands over his face, Steve drags his cheeks down and asks Charlie, "What are we going to do with her?"

"We could put her back in the pumpkin," Charlie says.

Steve beams. At least one of them still believes it. "We could," he says, kneeling down to help Charlie out of his shoes. "But I don't think she'd fit anymore."

Charlie puts his hands on Steve's shoulders and lifts his feet one at a time so Steve can take them off. He probably doesn't need Steve's help anymore, but Steve is genuinely horrified at the idea of his kids growing up, and he doesn't mind doing it a little longer anyhow. Shoes off, Charlie unzips his coat. Steve peels it off of his shoulders and hangs it up.

"Drink?" Steve asks.

"Yes, please."

He takes Charlie's hand where it's insisting at his hip and together they walk into the kitchen. There's no need for hand holding, but if Charlie wants it then Steve doesn't mind. Only thing is, it makes it difficult to pour juice into cups.

"Are you hungry, buddy?" Steve asks, lowering the cup to Charlie's level.

"Yeah. Dad, it's–"

"What do you want for dinner? Are you hungry enough for a big helping? Maybe I'll make lasagna."

"Dad, it's cold."

Steve frowns at Charlie where the little boy's curling in on himself. Steve picks him up, hands quick to cover his back but careful not to knock his drink over.

"Is it cold?" Steve hasn't taken his coat off yet. "I'm sorry, bud, let's turn up the thermostat."

"It's really cold."

Steve's feeling it now, a chill on his face that hints to an ajar window, or…

Steve carries Charlie the short distance to the dining room that leads off from the kitchen and opens the door. His suspicions are confirmed; the patio doors are wide open, letting the chill of a coming fall pervade the room.

"Woah," Charlie says.

"Woah," Steve repeats. He sits Charlie on top of the table and closes the doors, locking the leftmost with a concerned sigh. Open doors invite creepy crawlies that Charlie can't abide by, or worse, rats.

"Sorry, buddy, let's go find your blanket," Steve says, turning away from the doors. "And your sister."

He forgets about the open doors after a busy night. Sarah and Charlie make lasagna with him, and then they help him wash up. Sarah gets dish soap all over her and decides that she doesn't need a bath anymore because that's what dish soap is for, dad, she's clean now. He haggles with her, and they strike a deal that she will in fact be bathing tonight as long as they can have a party (sans Evangeline the cat) tomorrow.

She was going to get the party anyway. It's a sneaky dad win.

When they've both been bathed and dressed in clean pyjamas, Steve ushers the twins into their bedrooms and bids them both goodnight. Charlie falls asleep before Steve's even left the room, but Sarah takes a little more persuasion.

Steve sits on the side of her bed, his thumb stroking a line up and down the bridge of her nose to the spot between her eyebrows. Her lashes flutter with every crest.

"Do you think Evangeline will be okay?" she mumbles sleepily.

"Yeah, baby, I do. I think she'll be just fine. Don't worry about her, okay?"

"She must be lonely," Sarah says.

Steve leans in, speaking warmly. "What makes you think that? Because she's not home?" Sarah nods. Steve takes a big breath. "Well, think of it this way… She might be away from home, but she has her kittens with her, so she's not alone."

"Does she have a husband cat?"

"I bet she does. He might even be with her," Steve says.

"Maybe we can get a pet cat," she says.

Steve kisses the tip of her nose. "Nice try, Sar-bear."

She smiles, either from his joke or his affection, and touches his arm. "Maybe I can sleep in the big bed with you tonight?"

Steve would let her if he didn't think she was close to falling asleep already. "Tomorrow," he says, letting her down gently. He sits up, his hand on her forehead, stroking back her freshly clean hair. "I love you. Have good dreams, okay?"

"Okay, daddy. You too."

Her eyes shutter closed. He strokes her hair for a few minutes more to make sure she's asleep, before kissing her head, turning off her light, and closing the door.

He stands in the hallway for a second, checking his watch. It's later than they'd usually go to bed but still relatively early, nearing 10PM. He has enough time to swap the load of laundry from the washer to the dryer before he has his own shower, and he could probably squeeze some TV in if he doesn't mind falling asleep on the couch.

Steve does the laundry. He showers. He checks on the twins, peeking his head into their rooms. Sarah's asleep as he left her like a princess, and Charlie's curled up, a pill bug under three blankets.

Steve's scrubbing his hair dry with a towel on the way downstairs and wondering if there's any good ice cream in the freezer when he hears a weird sound. He knows what he thinks it is immediately, but the reality of it being said thing is too weird, too coincidental, and he really actually doesn't want to have to deal with it. His pulse quickens at a wooden knocking sound.

"No way," he says, ditching his towel on the kitchen counter top. He approaches the dining room door, resting his forehead against cold wood. "No fucking way."

The sound grows louder. Steve considers leaving the door closed and dealing with it tomorrow, but he can't. He has kids in the house. And if there's an animal in need of assistance, he doesn't wanna be the kind of person who doesn't help. Even if he's so, so tired.

—

"So you found her there?" you ask, eyebrows raised high.

Steve —Harrington, apparently, from your graduating class— rubs the back of his neck. "Would you believe me if I said the patio door was open?"

"I believe you, Steve, I'm just surprised at the coincidence."

Your neighbour, Serena, looks up from where she's poking at Evangeline the cat and her rabidly meowing brethren to grin. "It's a great coincidence. I'm so happy she's okay. And so sorry she decided to do this here."

Turns out you and the pretty dad from the park are almost neighbours, living one street away. He lives on Cherry Avenue. You live on Cherry Avenue West, as does Evangeline the cat.

"I can, uh, pay for the cleaning," Serena offers.

Evangeline has given cat-birth in the bottom of Steve's hutch, a solid oak piece with a glass front. It's the kind of furniture you'd expect in such a nice home, but the glass-fronted cabinet isn't lined with dishes. It's full of kids' arts and crafts.

Steve crosses his arms across his chest. "Don't worry about it. I've cleaned up worse stuff than that."

"Oh, no, please, let me pay for it. Or at least let me clean it myself."

"It's really no trouble," Steve says.

"It's definitely some trouble," you butt in mildly. "Me and Serena'll clean it, just as soon as we get these cats into crates."

You hadn't been expecting Steve to call you for a while. You'd hoped he'd find the cat, obviously, and hoped even if he didn't he'd try his luck with you. He's a handsome guy with big hands, lean arms, and a smile so gentle it tips into searing; you can't help smiling at him to get him to smile back. It makes your chest feel insanely tight.

There's nothing so thrilling as having a good-looking guy flirt with you. It doesn't happen often.

"If you think I'm gonna let you clean up in my house you've got another thing coming," he says with a bravado that's clearly self-aware. "You guys don't want a cup of coffee, do you? I need one."

"Sure," you say, "I'll help."

Steve's kitchen is the same as the rest of his house, cluttered and clean, lived in and proud of it. There's drawings on the fridge, homemade magnets, poorly painted mugs on a rack by the coffee pot. Kids live here, and they're loved here, evidenced by their artwork in pride of place, and the sheer amount of Goldfish you see in his cabinet when he retrieves a jar of coffee.

"The kids are in bed?" you ask.

"Yep. Though I doubt Charlie's sleeping, he can't sleep through the front door closing. The creaking scares him sometimes."

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," you say.

Steve shoots you a smile from over his shoulder. "Don't be sorry," he says, unscrewing the coffee jar. "It's not your fault the cat wanted to have her kittens here. It's not even the cat's fault. Charlie will come down in a minute."

Steve's eerily right. The quiet thump of footsteps patter down the stairs, and the blonde little boy you'd met that afternoon appears at the end of the hall with a mess of cotton candy hair sticking up and a blanket around his shoulders. Steve pours you some freshly brewed coffee and offers you the mug.

"Milk is in the fridge," he says, his arm held out as he approaches his son. "Hey, Charlie. Sorry, we were being too loud, huh?"

Charlie slides behind Steve's legs. "It's not morning."

"No, sorry."

"Who's the lady?" he whispers.

"That's Y/N, we met her at the playground earlier, remember? Because of her friend's lost cat?"

Charlie leans around Steve's legs to sneak a glance at you. You smile and raise a hand to wave at him. He hides.

You bend at the waist. "Hi, Charlie. Sorry to make so much noise while you're sleeping, but we had to come over and see Evangeline. You can tell me off for being loud, I don't mind."

"It's okay," Charlie says.

You beam at him. "Really? Thank you. I promise we'll be much quieter and you can go back to sleep soon."

Steve brushes Charlie's hair back out of his eyes and down flat. "Want to sit on the counter?" he asks.

Charlie nods.

Steve picks Charlie up and puts him on the countertop next to his cooling coffee. Things are quiet and slightly awkward for a minute. You fill the silence with sips of coffee, while Steve's too preoccupied with his kid to touch his own. He rubs Charlie's back, a chubby cheek pulled into his chest, offering up treats in a murmur, "How about something warm? I can make you hot cocoa, you can have marshmallows, too. Would that make you feel better?"

"Are you having it too?" Charlie asks.

"No, I'm having coffee."

"Can I have some coffee?"

"You can have a little sip to see if you like it," Steve says.

You're surprised by his willingness to let Charlie try it, but it's not like he's force feeding him caffeine by the spoonful. Steve blows on the coffee for a few seconds and then holds Charlie's back. "Just a little bit, baby, it's hot and I don't think you'll like it. Just a little sip."

Oh, no, you think. He's so nice.

He's a very tender father. Gentle and patient. He helps Charlie take a little sip and he doesn't so much as blink when Charlie spits it back out into his mug. Steve fills a new mug with water and helps him wash away the taste, laughing without malice.

"I didn't think you'd like it," Steve says. "But good job for trying."

"It tasted sour," Charlie says.

"Are you sure?" Steve laughs again. He looks up at you and lowers his voice. "Would it be a problem for him to see the cats?"

"Are you kidding? Of course he can." You put your coffee down. "Do you like cats, Charlie?"

Charlie loves cats. When Serena's sure that Evangeline won't go into a defensive mom rage, she beckons Charlie forward to watch the kittens wriggling. They're not very active, having just been born, but they're cute, and alien in a way that's boggling. You fawn at his fawning.

"Don't touch," Steve says softly.

"Where's the pumpkin?" Charlie whispers.

"What?" you ask. You can't help yourself.

"Um." Steve trips over his words, "Um– he wants to know where the pumpkin is, where the kittens came out of. Because… that's where babies come from?"

Your lips part. Serena nudges you before you can say something idiotic, and you thank her in your head. "Oh, of course! Well, we had to put the pumpkin outside so the kittens had room to lay down."

It's not smoothly done, but Steve nods appreciatively. Charlie hums and sits back in Steve's lap. "Does Sarah get to have two parties now?" he asks.

You'd thought yourself fine at understanding children, but you never realised they spoke in code.

Steve's voice is almost melodical in its cadence, and his hands do a sort of waltz, a slow, practised manoeuvre as they settle around Charlie's front. "I don't know, buddy. I think one party is enough."

"What was her party for?" you ask.

"Well," Steve begins, "your flyer, she wanted to know what celebrating means. So I told her it meant like when you have a party, and she really likes parties, so she thought if we could find Evangeline, we'd get to have one. But when we couldn't find her, I said we'd have one anyways."

So he's a sweetheart, you think. Good to know.

"It's too bad she's still sleeping," you say. While she might not have found Evangeline, and Steve may not have found her purposefully, she deserves a treat just for looking. You're about to suggest it when Steve tilts his head to the side.

"It shouldn't be too long, now. She always knows when Charlie's not where she left him."

"What, like a sixth sense?" you ask, charmed.

"Exactly like a sixth sense. He was in the hospital for a few days a year ago and she didn't sleep for two whole days. Which is weird 'cos they have separate bedrooms," —you bite back a huge smile at the impassioned tone of his retelling— "and she hasn't slept in the same bed as him in two or three years, but it didn't matter."

"That's sweet, though," you say.

"She loves him more than anyone in the world," Steve says easily. He dips his voice down into a playful grumbling, "But Charlie loves me most. Don't you Charlie?"

They must have had this teasing before, as Charlie knows exactly what to say, giggling and affectionately fond as he protests, "No, dad."

"What?" Steve asks incredulously.

"I love Sarah most."

"Sarah's not here to hear you, buddy."

"I love Sarah the most, and then you, and then Aunt Robin and Aunt Cory, and then grandma." He's apparently been coached on it.

Steve meets your eyes over Charlie's head. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

Sarah appears not long after, clearly surprised by strangers in her house and her dad on the dining room floor. She walks forward, bunny ears on her slippers wagging with each step, eyes blinking sluggishly.

"Daddy?"

"Sarah," he greets. "Guess what? I found Evangeline."

Sarah realises what she's seeing, and nothing can prepare you for how high-pitched she squeals. "Are those kittens?" she asks, stepping over Steve's knee. You stabilise her when she pitches forward and prevent a disaster. "Oh my god, dad! Can we pet them?"

"No, we can't, I'm sorry," he says, "they're still shiny brand new. And sticky."

Sarah's disappointed but doesn't whine. She sits politely beside you and watches the kittens climbing blindly atop one another, her pyjamas warm against your crossed leg.

"As soon as I take them to the vets, you guys can be the first to pet them," Serena says, finally tearing her attention away from her darling Evangeline. "How's that sound?"

"Really?" Sarah asks.

"If it's okay with your dad, absolutely."

You reckon Steve couldn't say no if he wanted to. You all stay there like that for a while, talking in quiet tones until Charlie's falling asleep in Steve's lap and Serena decides it's now or never, attempting to usher Evangeline and the kittens into the huge cat carrier she'd procured. Thank yous and no problems are exchanged at the door, Steve with Charlie in his arms as though the boy, who looks to be five or older, weighs nothing. Sarah waves her hand at the kittens as Serena takes them to the car.

"Dad, we really need a cat," she says.

Steve pats her shoulder momentarily. "Maybe one day."

You hover at the porch step, because there's something you want to ask. It might be odd, but getting this little sneak peek into their life, seeing Steve in action, you can admit to both having a small crush on him as well as wanting to see him again. Even if it turned out to be nothing, you'd want to see him. He seems interesting, charming, and so ridiculously loving; you could use a little love in your life.

"Listen," you say, twirling your car keys around your finger nervously, "about that celebration…"

Steve hikes Charlie further up his chest. "The party?"

"I mean, you did find her. And I'd like to keep my end of the bargain, so maybe… we could celebrate sometime? Together?"

Steve's hand covers the back of Charlie's head. "Are you asking me out?"

You look away from him, accidentally locking eyes with Sarah, who's smiling at his hip like you're the best thing since sliced bread.

"Only if you want to," you say.

"We would love to!" Sarah says.

You can see the moment that Steve bites back a smile. "What she said. We'd love to." He hikes Charlie up again. He must be heavier than he looks. "I really have to put them to bed, but– I'll call you," he says. "Cool?"

"Cool," you say. He generously ignores how breathless you sound, and you say goodnight.

Serena's telling Evangeline off in the car as though she's a reckless teenager when you climb in, but it isn't without love. "What's so unsafe about your own home, Eva? We had that wardrobe all decked out for you, and you chose some random guy's dining room. Some random hot guy," she says pointedly. "Tell me you asked him out."

"What?" you ask, laughing nervously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She stares at you.

"Okay, fine! Yeah, I asked him out," you admit.

She cheers, "Woo! Good thing. He deserves a nice date with a pretty girl like you after that. We never cleaned out his hutch, you realise?"

You flush all over. "Oh, fuck."

"That might put a dampener on the appetisers."

—-

hello, thank you for reading! if you’d like to request more for this au please go ahead, I’d love to see some<3<3

#steve and the twins #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

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rainbow-nerdss · 2 months

Text

WIP Wednesday

A little bit of Buck and Chris from the Bucktommy fic 💙💙💙💙 (Aka: you can pry couch theory from my cold dead hands, actually)

“Why were you asking about me and Tommy, anyway?” He asks. “No reason.” Chris shrugs “Dad just mentioned it, that's all. Tommy's pretty cool.” “He sure is. Even if he's got terrible Star Wars opinions.” “Hey!” Chris protests again. Buck just shrugs. “I said what I said.” He thinks for a moment, then adds. “I guess I never really talked to you properly about me and Tommy, huh? I'm sorry about that, bud.” “It's okay. Dad explained it. I mean, obviously I know what bisexual is already, but he explained how you didn't always know. How there can be things some people learn about themselves as a kid, and other people learn when they're old.” Buck gets a little choked up by how simply put it is. Sure, he's always known Chris to be intelligent, and he's a proper little teenager now, but the way he says it so plainly, the way Eddie explained it to him, it's… Well, he's pretty sure it's love. “I'm not old,” Buck says, just to be a shit, and also to keep himself from bursting into tears. How'd he get so lucky to have this kid in his life? Chris shrugs. “That's just what dad said! Take it up with him.” “Your dad’s older than I am!” Buck protests, and Chris cackles. “Okay, so maybe I paraphrased a bit. Can you go away now? I'm trying to concentrate and you don't even have math superpowers to help anymore.” Buck sighs dramatically, but he does get out of Chris' chair. He sits on the couch, which is still perfectly fine, thank you. Usable, at least. Okay, so he'll probably need a new one soon, but he's sure the people at the furniture store will recognise his face by now and he just can’t deal with that. He turns the TV on low and flicks around for a while, then starts scrolling on his phone, just waiting for Chris to finish his work. They spend the evening playing video games—no more than two hours, Buck knows better than to incur Eddie's wrath on that, then they cook together, eating at the table like grown ups with good table manners.

tags below the cut:

@dangerpronebuddie @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @wikiangela @daffi-990

@theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @bidisasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @aspecbuddie @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan @loserdiaz @goforkinard @kwills91 @trenchcoatsandtimetravel @spotsandsocks @devirnis @steadfastsaturnsrings @sunflowerdiaiz @lover-of-mine @liabegins @lovelettertothewise @slowlyfoggydestiny @buddieboos @shitouttabuck @pirrusstuff @jesuisici33 @nmcggg @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @your-catfish-friend @eightpackdiaz @gigi-gigi @bisexualbuckleys @loveyouanyway @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @arachanae @dangerpronebuddie

#my fic #911 spoilers #evan buckley #christopher diaz

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findafight · 1 year

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Kinda want to write a one-sided ronance post S4 au (within a fix it obvs) where the older teens start actually hanging out and Stobin (eventually + Vickie)confuse literally everyone. They greet each other with cheek kisses, call each other babe (or "Stevie Baby". Listen. Robin calls him bud or buddy or bub or bubba or babe and it's like why so many B's?? Argyle is vibing with it though and joins the bud train) and one time at two in the morning had a coordinated ramble about the names of the cats they will eventually get. (Sassafras, moonshine, and Garborator)

Nancy and Steve haven't really talked about anything, other than Steve saying "hey. I'm sorry if whatever I said weirded you out. I was definitely a bit delirious and Robin and Eddie AND Dustin were all making comments about winning you back or whatever which is stupid, you made it clear where you stood with me. Which wasn't with me. That's fine. and like. Okay yeah when we were together I'd daydream about you being beside me in the motorhome but thats-- it was a daydream. I was sort of thinking I was gonna die and. I wanted to share a little dream that made me happy. And then got everything confused in my head and made it weird and I'm sorry. what I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for being weird and making things uncomfortable. I'm over you. I loved you then, and you were my first real love, and maybe if things were different I could love you like that again but. But neither of us want that or the same things out of life. And we'd crash and burn again. Plus you and Jonathan are together which is a non-starter. Cannot believe I forgot that when it was happening. Jesus. So. Yeah. Sorry for being not a great friend and hitting on you in the Upside Down." And Nancy had nodded and told him not to worry about it. He had been sort of bleeding out and planning on going back into the upside down. They could both be normal about it.

Sometimes Nancy and Robin try to have "girl time" at Nancy's suggestion because they're the only girls in the older group (sometimes. But Robin is not going to let that slip out) but it's awkward without a buffer. Robin is too nervous and rambles and Nancy is too annoyed by it. But they do get on well in group settings, and Steve and Argyle are actually the keenest to smooth over any awkwardness.

Robin laughs more with the group, and grins at Steve and smirks at Eddie and has a sharp tongue Nancy can admire. She's more comfortable with Steve around, insisting he sit beside her or on the ground in front of her so she can play with his hair. (And Nancy is shocked the first time she sees it, because Steve was notoriously protective of his "best feature", but she'd asked and he'd hummed quietly as she takes her fingers through his hair and put tiny, lopsided braids in it.) It's nice to see Robin less jumpy, and wonders what it would take to see more of the side of her Nancy only sees when Steve's around. She just wants to get closer to Robin. Wants a friend.

And somehow, beyond Nancy's notice, Steve and Robin's friend Vickie slowly joins the group. She wasn't involved at all in the spring, but has been hanging around Family Video and a movie night or two often enough that when she settles more permanently in the group it isn't a very big surprise. Eddie and Argyle welcome her in with open arms, Jonathan is only his normal amount of weary of new people, and obviously Robin and Steve are excited for their friends to be friends.

But it just doesn't sit right with Nancy. She can't pinpoint why, it just doesn't. When she sees Robin and Vickie giggling together, or having some back and forth banter that seems to feed into both of them smiling, or Steve throwing his arm over her shoulder, or Vickie leaning into Robin's space as they talk. She always sits beside Robin, Steve on the other, with Eddie beside him. It's usually a tight fit for whatever couch they're on, but the four seem happy as clams to not have any personal space. Once Argyle decided to lay across all their laps, and they just...let him. Finangled themselves so everyone was mostly comfortable.

Nancy figures she is uncomfortable with it because she hasn't ever had a close friend since Barb, and was possibly hoping she could be close to Robin along those lines. So seeing her so close with the others and mildly uncomfortable around her hurt, and seeing her and Steve incorporate someone unversed in the Upside Down into their little trauma club also hurt. Because what did Vickie have that Nancy didn't? That made Steve and Robin and now Eddie stick to her like glue? That made them want her there when she didn't know anything about what they'd been through and could probably never understand?

What made Vickie Summers so special that she's taken what should have been Nancy's place beside her friends? Because that's what really bothered her. It wasn't that Vickie didn't know, it's that Nancy felt she took her place. That Nancy wanted to be where Vickie was, and she didn't know how to ask for it. Asking, trying to talk about how Steve and Robin had bonded so well after Starcourt while she ignored them and then how they bonded with and absorbed Eddie halfway into their bizarre dynamic after vecna, would feel too much like begging or admitting that she isn't quite sure how to make friends.

Nancy is jealous. Jealous that she isn't friends like Vickie and Eddie and Steve and Robin are. That she isn't the one making Robin smile and giggle so cutely. So. She tries harder. Tries to be the friend that Robin and Eddie and even Steve deserve. She tries not to be annoyed by Robin rambling (it really isn't that bad, just. Not relevant. She likes heading Robin's voice, but thinks she could really work on having a filter.), or the way Steve always asks clarifying questions when he should really have known better, or Eddie talking half in different character voices. She thinks it's getting better, her relationship with them. But, still, Vickie is always there, glued to Robin's side almost as much as Steve is, and that always annoys Nancy. Niggles at her brain, that she doesn't deserve to be there because she didn't know what Robin had lived through and fought. Nancy did.

Eventually, Nancy figures out that she wants more from Robin. Doesn't want to be a friend she smiles at occasionally, wants to be the reason she smiles all the time. And that's terrifying. Because Nancy had never considered liking girls, never thought liking girls was a thing she could do. It was something other women did, not Nancy. She liked boys and always had, but. But maybe she always liked girls...too. maybe it wasn't something she that was one or the other. Being different in a town like Hawkins puts a target on your back, being queer in a town like Hawkins even moreso.

She's leaving Hawkins in the fall. But she thinks she wants someone to come home to. She wants Robin to come home to. Robin and Steve seem to be okay with it, from what she can glean of some veiled comments they've made that she's only caught now she's looking for them. They've made some remarks around the kids that make it seem like they'd be safe to come to, no matter what. And sometimes, some of the comments Robin makes about actresses seem a little...well. admiring.

They probably, hopefully, wouldn't hate her for this. And now Nancy and Robin have a friendship, she thinks she can. It's early July, and Nancy is going to ask Robin out.

She gets her alone, bites her lip, and asks Robin in no uncertain terms to go out on a date with her. Robin stares, mouth agape.

"oh," she says.

Nancy smiles, a little. "Yeah. So. What do you say?"

Robin blinks, and takes a shuddering breath. "Oh my god. I. Nancy I'm really flattered but I'm no-i dont- uhg. I'm dating someone." she groans, rubbing her hands over her face.

And oh. Nancy read the situation wrong "oh. Steve. It's fine! You don't like girls, thats--thats totally fine! Id just, um. That is,-"

Robin waves her hands. "No, no! I'm not dating Steve! You clocked me correctly. Definitely gay! Don't worry about that! Hah."

Something in Nancy twists. "Oh?"

"yeah. Yep. Not only am I a lesbian in a small town, I'm a lesbian in a small town that somehow also has a girlfriend." Robin says the word dreamily. Like she still can't believe it. Nancy's brain fills with static. She was too late. Too caught up with how she missed so many chances in the past, that she missed her chance now.

But Robin keeps talking. "And, like. Even if I didn't, I don't think it would have worked between us anyways. Too different, y'know?"

"what?"

Robin gestures with her hands between them. "Well, like. I like being your friend. But, I mean, I wouldn't date you?"

"why not?"

Blinking, Robin tilts her head. "Because of Steve?"

Something bubbles hot in Nancy. "What the fuck does Steve have to do with wether or not we would date?"

"Nancy. Steve's my best friend." As though that explains anything.

"yes? And?"

Robin looks uncomfortable, shifting sideways. "listen, Nancy. You're a good friend. And I've just rejected you. Maybe we should just. Ah. Leave this? I'm really sorry. I'll give you some space, just find me when you're ready?"

"no. What do you mean that we couldn't date because Steve is your best friend? Why would that have any effect on how you date?"

"it doesn't! Not really! Just. Nancy, you broke his heart. His soft, squishy heart! You kinda sorta cheated on him-details very unclear-and then just. Moved on. Pretended like nothing happened. I couldn't do that to Steve. Dating a friend's ex is a bad move. Dating an ex that broke a friend's heart is just cruel." She sighs. Looks sad. As though she isn't the one rejecting Nancy and tearing her apart for how a relationship ended almost two years ago. What did that matter, now? "You're my friend, Nancy. I like you! But even if Steve has moved on, forgiven and forgotten, and if things were a bit different given his full support for us dating if that's what I wanted, I think I'll always remember how he-- how much it hurt him."

"oh"

"I'm. Nancy I'm really sorry. I know how scary it is to put yourself out there, especially like this. It's not fair. I'm just sorry. But. It was true. Steve's the most important person to me. I couldn't ever hurt him. Not like that. Not even if he said he was fine with it."

Nancy stands and walks away. She doesn't cry until she locks her bedroom door.

#robin buckley #nancy wheeler #stranger things #ronance #one sided crush #spicy six #steve harrington #i just think a confrontation between robin and nancy would be really interesting #and robins feelings about things between nancy and Steve and how that would be something of a non starter for a romantic relationship #even if steve was like super cool with it i dont think robin 'held a grudge agaisnt steve for a year bc her crush had a crush on him'#would axtually let it go #and also nancy wanting friends! give her friends. i have so many emotions about nancy not really having friends #since barb died. :( i want her to have friends that she isnt dating ir wants to date!!!#finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #implied ships are #steddie #robin x vickie #robickie

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reccyls · 2 months

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Villain's Festival 2024 - Victor's Epilogue

Quick translationof the epilogue you get for ranking for Victor during the election/Villain's Festival event. Just a brief context as well for the actual story, since the epilogue takes place immediately after:

Context:

Crown is in a competition with each other, as Victor decided that whoever steals Kate's heart is the one who will get a bonus from the Queen. Since everyone's been trying to appeal to Kate to win that bonus, she's feeling a little exhausted. Victor calls a brief stop to things and brings Kate away to the lounge, declaring that for the duration of the day, nobody aside from Kate will be allowed to enter to give her a quiet space for herself. Kate thinks to herself that it's very kind of Victor to see that she's feeling tired. However, she also thinks to herself that she feels a little bit... lonely, that Victor hasn't also been trying to woo her. He is a member of Crown and part of the competition, after all, but he hasn't so done anything to try and appeal to her. So she says that she'd like to spend time with Victor in the lounge having tea. She asks why Victor chose this form of competition, making a couple of wrong guesses: it's not because that way the competition will be on even ground (since obviously Harrison would win a poker competition, Liam would win an acting competition, etc etc). It's also not for work purposes, so that Kate has the opportunity to get to know the other members of Crown better. When Kate gives up and asks Victor to tell her the real reason... He leans in to place a kiss on her hair. He says, "This gives me a reason to try and woo you without making any complicated excuses." He doesn't care about the bonus. This kind of competition gives him a chance to touch her, and that's more than enough for him. He moves in even closer and puts his hand on hers, and then asks, "So... who is it that has stolen your heart?"

And now, the epilogue proper:

Victor: "So... who is it that has stolen your heart?"

Kate: "It's..." Kate: "It's you, Victor."

Victor: "Then, may I shower your heart with affection?"

He lifted his hand from mine, and then tilted my chin upwards with the tip of his finger.

Kate: (Ah, a kiss...)

There were plenty of opportunities for me to refuse. If I pushed him away, turned my head, or just said "no", Victor would definitely back off. But I had no desire to refuse. It was as if Victor's gaze had a magical compulsion that made you want to have your heart stolen away. I was unable to look away.

Kate: (If we could gaze at each other like this, if I could see myself reflected in his beautiful eyes...) Kate: (...how happy would I be, I wonder?)

As he drew even closer still, until our noses were nearly touching, I gently shut my eyes. --But, that moment never came.

Victor: ...Just kidding.

Victor suddenly withdrew, and I opened my eyes.

Kate: "Huh...?"

Victor: "Everyone was piling on the pressure, so I decided to try a little bit of appeal myself." Victor: "Being thrown a curveball like that and subjected to such a sudden change in attitude, it looks like you've been charmed."

Victor nodded to himself, as if saying, "Right, of course." He was saying that I had no particular attraction to Victor himself, and had only fallen under his charms due to the situation. It was as if he was emphasizing that I held no special feelings for Victor.

Victor: "...Regardless of who your partner was, whether it is me or someone else, of course someone's heart would start racing in a situation like that." Victor: "I'm sorry for using such dirty tactics."

Kate: "I-it's fine... You totally had me going..."

With such a total and thorough explanation, I had basically no choice but to accept that I had fallen for his so-called "dirty tactics". I began to wonder whether all my budding feelings for Victor were fake after all.

Victor: "As for the question of why I made the rule about stealing your heart... The true reason is..." Victor: "It's because I thought that if you were involved, everyone would really take this competition seriously. You are beloved by everyone." Victor: "I had wanted to see Crown fighting with all their heart for a cause completely unrelated to the darkness of the world." Victor: "But I didn't think that my selfish wish would place such a burden on you. I'm sorry."

Kate: "No, please don't apologize! It's true that I haven't ever experienced the pressure of so many people like this before..." Kate: "...But after hearing the reason, I understand why you did this. It's a very 'you' reason, Victor, because of how much you love Crown."

Kate: (It is a Victor-like reason, true, but...)

...(Flashback)

Victor: "...I don't care about the bonus." Victor: "This gives me a good reason to touch you, and that's enough."

...

Kate: (...As happy as I was to hear those words, I'm also sad that they were fake.)

Kate: "So it was a lie... It would be nice if they were true."

Victor: "...Kate?"

Victor's eyes widened after my true feelings slipped out.

Kate: "Hehe, just kidding! Call this payback for surprising me earlier."

--That was another lie, though. Since Victor had drawn a clear line between us, I wouldn't step over it.

Kate: "And... here, for you."

I handed over my heart-shaped necklace to Victor.

Kate: "I did end up falling for your tactics and my heart did start racing, so it's yours."

Victor: "Thank you."

Kate: "...I was surprised."

Victor: "Hm?"

Kate: "You're always so kind, but you have your own wicked side too." Kate: "It was a shock... but I'm glad to know something new about you."

I had inadvertently fallen for his ploy, and perhaps I had gotten all tangled up. However... More than that, I was happy that I'd learned about another new face of Victor's.

Victor: "...Well then, the next time we have a big group activity, I'll be sure to show you a glimpse of another new side of me!"

Kate: "Just a glimpse?"

Victor: "Playing hard to get is how I can get you to fall for me, isn't it?"

Kate: "Another one of your tactics? I'm not getting fooled again!"

Victor: "I was being serious."

Victor smiled. Regardless of whether it was the truth or a lie, I still felt happy. He'd stolen my heart, and it looked like I wouldn't be getting it back for some time. --What had been offered to the Reaper was a false heart shaped by his own two hands.

#ikemen villains #victor (ikevil)#my translation

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writtenontheport · 10 months

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Just a Night at Portland Row

(pt.1) (pt.2)

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Literal romcom, These people are silly, Everyone’s so sillycore here, teary confessions, someone accidentally confesses, nothing dramatic happens he’s just silly, Childhood friends to lovers, Lockwood is kinda stupid (affectionate), no smut or suggestive content, Lockwood and co and reader friendship, whether or not what Lockwood says at the end actually happens is up to you!!

Notes: I have quite a few issues with this one, and I’m not entirely satisfied with it, but I think it’s one of the better ways I could go about it. I also put all the flowers meanings at the bottom, so if you were curious I did in fact plan the flower meanings (I am a nerd). This finale has gone through about 20 revisions on the first day alone, so if anything seems jarringly out of place, I am so sorry 😭 I was all over the place with my ideas.

Summary: Just before supper time, you and Lockwood have a heart to heart, and it starts as it always has: with flowers, with tears, and a little funny thing called love.

word count: 2.4k+

“George,” Lockwood says seriously. It’s the first time George has ever seen him so serious about something that isn’t Lucy or him dying and it shocks him how quick he is to steel himself for whatever it is. “I need you to get Lucy to bring them down here, if you can, please.”

Now, ‘them’ is obviously referring to you, who’s laughing away upstairs with Lucy so loud they can hear it ring through the vents. If this wasn’t something George has genuinely been excited for, he would have smacked Lockwood upside the head for using that terrifying tone. “Don’t say it like that, prick. Thought someone was dying there.”

Lockwood grins at him from where he’s messing with the bouquet stood up on the table. The paper wrapping hasn’t been removed, courtesy of the empty vase and that water would most likely melt it; ribbon still intact. They stand, not quite fully in bloom (which is the best way to buy flowers, because otherwise they wilt right away) but just on the precipice of it. It’s packed with other, smaller additions, but at the heart of it, well. Maybe Lockwood did know something about the language of flowers.

“How’d you even pick them out?” George asks instead, watching Lockwood’s grin wobble.

“I made friends with the shopkeeper. He wouldn’t tell me what any of them meant, but he said they were good flowers— like the carnations. One of them though… these white ones here, just felt familiar somehow.” He kept messing about with the bouquet, meddling with any loose leaf or bud. “Can you please go get them? I want them to be able to see the flowers before they wilt.”

George does swat Lockwood for that, but he goes upstairs to get you. You and Lucy have moved to her room on George’s urging (he made Lockwood wait outside before coming in to make sure you didn’t know) and were lying in her bed on your stomachs, reading and sharing books. Lucy’s the first to look up at him, raising a brow as she nudges you.

“George? Everything ok?” You ask, propping yourself up to sit criss cross on the mattress. “Has Anthony come back yet?”

“He has,” he says simply, “He says he needs you in the kitchen. Lucy should stay since she must be tired from the case yesterday.”

From behind you, Lucy has a moment of realization that has her tucking her lips to hide a smile. Quietly, she puts a hand up to her forehead in a salute to George.

“You should go check,” she says, “Who knows what kind of trouble he might be in.”

“A lot of trouble,” George adds, nodding slightly along. You narrow your eyes in suspicion, but you get up off the bed.

“I’ll save your place!” She calls just as you’re headed down. George walks 2 steps behind you to hide his expression before he can school it, feeling giddy with nerves that aren’t even his to have. He wonders how Lockwood’s doing, stopping just at his bedroom door.

You turn back, asking “You aren’t coming?”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine.” He rocks gently on his feet and pulls his hands behind his back, reassuring you with a calm nod. “Off you go, Lockwood’s probably burnt himself making tea by now or something.”

“I’d hope not…” you mumble, each step down like a crescendo in the world’s most suspenseful piece of music— every floorboard creak like the lead instrument and your heartbeat acting a steady base. On a sheet you’re sure it looks hideous, but it levels out when you open the door and Lockwood’s waiting there by the counter, looking like he’s straight off a magazine. The silence creeps in, but the piece rises to new heights as the sound of everything— the floorboards, the vents— suddenly dulls out.

You step into the kitchen, and let the door shut behind you.

There is your Anthony, standing there in the middle of the kitchen with a bouquet full of dazzling pink tulips, red roses, and spots of white jasmine flowers. There is Anthony, the boy you’ve known and loved for years— looking at you like he always does: like you’re the whole world and sky and everything he wakes up for.

Neither of you speak for a good minute, but it’s not without trying. Lockwood spends that pregnant pause fumbling for words, before—

“I love you,” He says.

The words come rushing out his lips, hurried and desperate. It shocks you how simply he puts it, like a sudden rest in the notes that takes you by surprise. He looks surprised too; horrified, really, that he’s just blurted that out. He swallows thickly, steeling his expression into something determined.

“I—“ you pause, the words caught in your throat, blood pounding in your ears. You think you tear up, but you can’t really tell when the whole world narrows down to Anthony Lockwood across from you in the kitchen of Portland Row, professing his love in the spur of the moment. You grow warm with affection, taking a step closer to him as the music of your singing heart drowns out everything but his words.

He takes a deep breath, his face pale with fear as he swallows and says quietly,, “Today, when I went down to the shops to get you these flowers, I met the really old man tending to them. Don’t look at me like that, he was really old, alright?”

“Anthony,” you scold quietly, tutting at him as you wrap your hands around his.

He bites the inside of his cheek before he keeps going. “Anyways he isn’t the point— I brought him up because he made me realise that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I never gave telling you a shot. He lived loving someone else until they died— even after they did, and if… if there was a chance I could have that with you, I wanted to take it. I can’t promise you that I’ll be alive for as long as you will be, but I can promise you that I will love you for everyday I live and breathe if you let me.”

“Anthony,” you start, breathlessly. You take his face in your hands and he puts the bouquet down to cover your hands with his. He looks so scared like this, fragile like glass in your hands and pale with nerves.

“I can’t promise you forever,” He says solemnly, “But I can promise you my heart for as long as it beats.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, and will yourself not to kiss him. Years down to minutes— minutes to seconds. The silence hangs like a winding note. You glance back quickly at the bouquet, picking out one of the jasmine flowers before sliding it behind his ear and resting your hands on his face.

“Do you remember the first flower I gave you?” You ask just as quietly. He shakes his head, cheeks rubbing against the skin of your palms. “We were… quite young at the time, and I must have been mad, because I stole it from the neighbour’s garden. Yes, the grumpy one, you remember her. Well, I ran straight over from all the way from home with this crumpled little thing in hand— stop giggling. I’m telling you an important story— and you lit up like a light. Cheeky little thing you were, finding a way to give it back to me when I got scolded the same day for stealing and I was awful sore about the whole thing.”

“You looked all sad,” He cut in, voice hoarse in a mumble, “It made me happy, so I wanted it to make you happy too.”

You laugh, just as breathless, “And it worked, Anthony. It’s still one of my favourite flowers. Did you know that? They were the first flowers I read up on when I learned flowers could have meanings.”

“What’d you find?” He asks, the nerves fading into a hopefulness that fills his eyes with stars. It’s helplessly endearing where you see them shine, nearly nose to nose with how close you’re holding him.

You hum and close your eyes, pushing your forehead against his. “We gave each other white jasmine flowers, that day. A lot of people say they mean purity or innocence, but the one that stuck out to me was that people say it meant “everlasting love” too. When I look back on it now, it must’ve been fate.”

“Cause I always loved you and you probably realised that with how stupid I get about you?”He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

You chuckle quietly, just as helplessly lost, “Not quite. I didn’t even think there was a chance you could love me back, though that does make everything a bit easier… because I’ve always loved you, Anthony.”

Like a child on Christmas day, Lockwood’s eyes grow wide; he’s helpless to the grin that splits his face. “Really?”

“I’m no liar, Anthony, and certainly not about this,” you laugh, unable to help yourself as you tip back and rest your nose lightly against his.

“No like— you mean it?” He asks, voice cracking with hope as he searches your face, “You love me? You love me?”

You’re helplessly endeared, helplessly in love and helplessly lost to it, so you just whisper back with a grin as wide, “Yes, Anthony. I love you.”

What little space between you both is gone in a second when he pushes his lips against yours. It’s a desperate thing, all relief and comfort and love pouring out. At some point, you’re both smiling too wide and too much for it to be anything more than just pushing your lips against each other’s and you pull away with a wet laugh.

He grins wider, and you didn’t think it was possible but he manages it. “I’m so glad, because if I had to go back to the shopkeeper with a terrible story about how I got rejected by the love of my life—“

You giggle and swat at his arm, wrapping your arms around him, “Of course that’s what you worry about. This is all a publicity stunt, yeah? To boost your ego.”

“Of course,” he says, with no weight to the words as he sniffs and blinks away the last of his tears, “Though that just means we should make it a bigger stunt and get married. I’ll even invite Kipps just to rub it in his face.”

You hum, helplessly amused, when the door slams open and George shamelessly walks in with at first his usual deadpan, then a pleased expression. From behind George, Lucy is brimming with happiness, smiling cheek to cheek.

“Gross,” George says, simply and without malice. He steps around you and Lockwood, patting you both on the back sincerely and pulling out pots and pans. It occurs to you a little late that he’s starting on supper. “Took you both a while to actually confess. Mental, the two of you.”

“It was cute,” Lucy says kindly, taking you from Lockwood (he does pout lightly, but she just sticks her tongue out at him) hugging you dear. “George just means that we’re both very happy you two finally got together. He was starting to go bald actually from pulling his hair out too much, look at his hairline—“

“You can’t even pretend like you weren’t too, Lucy.” George sends her a glare as she separates from you. Lockwood quickly fills the space at your side again and all but wraps himself around you. Lucy pats him on the back with a congratulatory smile.

“You can’t go bald before my wedding, George, that’d just ruin it,” you say, clicking your tongue as you reach over (not without struggling over Lockwood) and pat his curls into place. The pot nearly slips out of his hands while Lucy’s eyes grow big as saucers.

“Wedding?!?” They ask simultaneously. Lockwood giggles into your neck, the cheeky bastard.

“This one here,” you gesture at Lockwood with a look, “said we should get married since this whole thing is a publicity stunt or whatnot. Said he might even invite that Kipps bloke he hates.”

“That is the lamest proposal I have ever heard,” Lucy immediately cuts in, the most disappointed scowl pointed at Lockwood’s head.

“I’ve got to agree. You could absolutely do better than that, Lockwood. Also, Quill Kipps? Do you want to have start a fight at your wedding?” George asks, his back turned to everyone. You pull away from Lockwood to pick up the flowers, but not without him frowning as you do. He stops frowning as soon as you smile at him, though, before he turns his attention to Lucy and George when they both pretend to gag.

“I gave them flowers, a really sentimental bunch I think, then I had a good speech,” He says to Lucy first, who raises a brow at him.

He turns to George next. “I need to rub it in his face that he’s probably miserable and forever alone.”

“I thought it was gonna be a publicity stunt, not a revenge plot,” You mutter, clicking your tongue.

“I’m not letting you have a lame wedding, Lockwood, because that means they—“ she points to you “— will have a lame wedding and I will not let that happen.”

“But you’d let me have a lame wedding if it was just mine?” His face is scrunched in offence as he ‘discreetly’ wraps himself around you again.

“Yes,” Lucy and George say simultaneously.

“I’d marry you at a lame wedding.” You play with his hair where you can reach it, pressing a kiss to his forehead where he’s dumped it again on your shoulder. Lucy and George gag, Lockwood beams so bright you’d think he won the lottery that night.

They manage to convince you that it’s too dark out to leave (it was past curfew, the sun had set already) so you spend the night recounting everything you can with them until the stars had gone to sleep and the sun started rising.

The next day, he brings down the bouquet of carnations you’d first given him, and you mix both the bouquets into one. A year later, Portland Row becomes home to not only to the people living in it, but a garden full of flowers blooming with love, laughter, and a lot of hard work. White Jasmine flowers bloom on the veranda and a house of three becomes home to four.

A/N: Finally finished this series!! Whew, that was… hmm!! And just because I couldn’t add it to the story without it getting clunky, have these idk, headcanons? fun facts?:

Reader tells Lockwood all about the flowers after, and informs him about why the Jasmine flowers were so familiar

The grumpy neighbour reader stole the white jasmine flowers from was actually the old man gardener’s wife

Lockwood goes back to tell the old man, and they have a laugh about the whole thing

It is so hard to get one straight meaning for a flower, but if you dig enough you can find flowers that mean so many cute things:

Red carnations mean deep love and affection

Pink tulips mean caring and affection

White Jasmine flowers can mean many things but for this story I went with: Eternal love, persevering love, and new beginnings

Everyone knows red roses, but I also like to think Lockwood’s bouquet had thornless red roses because they mean love at first sight

Yes he one upped the reader even without knowing what all the flowers mean because he’s a competitive little freak (affectionate) and I love him

This series has been very dear to me, and I am especially thankful to @tangledinlove <3 Thank you for your kind reblogs, I hope you know I read them and always look forward to seeing how you find each part in the series even if I don’t respond to them <33333

Also @milesmorals asked me to tag her too!!

#portie writes fanfic #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year

Note

Oh my goodness Jake Seresin!!! How much is your going rate for bribery? (Seriously tho I obviously don’t want you to be under any pressure and like you’ve probably got other priorities but wow I’m in love - total sucker for the innocent character becoming more confident and experienced)

Wake Up, Kid

Notes: Going rate is a soul, but if it's previously promised, we can discuss first borns. Reader's callsign is Gambit (only used a couple of times). No y/n; no physical descriptions.

Based on this post

Warnings: unrequited love to allies to lovers; angst; ends happily

Summary: It was the closest he’d gotten to you, staring down the bridge of his nose at you.

“What do you expect? That this is all going to be easy? That you’re gonna get up there and everything is gonna just click? It takes work. It takes perseverance, and practice. You’re wasting valuable time. Wake up, kid!”

“Wake up, kid.”

It was chuckled at you then, a handsome smile curling his lips. You didn’t know Jake Seresin well at the time, despite your best efforts. You’d been following him around, asking him questions and disguising your budding attraction as curiosity. You’d asked him questions before, but this latest one was a goad.

You wanted something out of him—an answer that was more than one word, or a shrug. This question had been purposely stupid, and he seemed to have mistakenly taken it as a measure of your intellect. He turned to you with raised brows, his eyes cool as his toothpick shifted between his smug lips.

“You really think that’s possible?” He scoffed. “Wake up, kid.”

“Wake up, kid!”

It was snapped at you, then. A cruel look twisted his otherwise handsome features, irritation bright in his gaze. He didn’t seem annoyed—he seemed downright pissed. It was the closest he’d gotten to you, staring down the bridge of his nose at you.

His gaze swept you once more before he whirled away, storming down the tarmac, away from you.

He hardly gave you a second thought, a second look. You stood stalk-still for a moment, embarrassed and stunned, the blood rushing to your shock-stricken face.

“...C’mon, kid.”

It was spoken gently, with that charming, irritatingly attractive curl of his lips. You knew better than to trust it. Hangman had been nothing but an asshole to you since you arrived on base. He told you to wake up, and you had. You’d stopped mooning after him. You’d come to realize that for as smart as he was, as quick as he was, he was fallible, and cocky. As you gained a greater understanding of yourself, your job, the limits of your skills and craft, you'd found him less and less attractive.

Well, less attractive personality-wise, anyway. He was still frustratingly handsome.

Now, Hangman leaned against the bar beside you, his sweet gaze trying to draw you back in. You nearly fell for it, too—but you shook your head a touch.

“No thank you.”

“One game of pool!” He urged.

“I don’t know how to play.”

“I’ll teach you.”

“I’m fine.”

“Then come watch me win.”

“No thanks.”

“...C’mon kid.”

He took a step closer as he said it, dipped his head in to drop his voice to a murmur. Your fingers flexed around your glass.

“You want someone to swoon over you, I’d recommend getting a hand mirror.”

Hangman whistled low, slapping his chest over his heart as he leaned more heavily against the bar.

“Look,” He said after a moment. “I’m sorry, alright?”

You frowned, casting a skeptical gaze in his direction. He did look a apologetic as he gazed at you from under the sweep of his lashes.

“I was…” He trailed off, searching for the right words before he offered, “An ass.”

“Yes, you are," You agreed as you turned back to your beer.

“...I said I was an ass.”

“Not sure that’s changed, Seresin.”

He didn’t answer for a moment. Then, finally,

“So that’s an absolute no to pool?”

You turned to him, stunned and irate—but your annoyance broke when you found him smiling at you. You couldn’t help the way it triggered your own smile, and you turned away from him, shaking your head.

“You get away from me Seresin, or I’m putting my phone on the bar and telling Penny it’s yours.”

I need you to wake up. You gotta wake up, kid.

It was a figment of your imagination, you were sure of it—a hallucination as you’d made an emergency landing, your oxygen running low. Your body had been put through the wringer, battling blood loss and a concussion. You could hardly make out his voice over the beeping monitors, and the footfall of doctors and nurses.

You’d asked about him when you’d come to in an empty room, but your nurse told you that she hadn’t seen anyone. You’d tried to push the disappointment down, to focus on what she was telling you about your progress, your health. But it was so strange—it was like you could hear his voice so, so clearly in your head.

You gotta wake up, kid.

It had been a rough sound—a plea, the likes of which you’d never associate with Jake Seresin.

I need you to wake up.

Your fingers flexed in the sheets, a wince twisting your face up at the feeling. It was surely a phantom feeling, a false memory—the heat of his palm and fingers twined around yours.

A shaky breath down in, then pushed out from his lips. A broken, determined, godless prayer.

You gotta wake up, kid.

It must have been a figment of your imagination, some fabricated solace in what you’d believed to be your final moments.

You gotta wake up, kid.

You hadn’t thought about it in years, but as he twisted around to look at you for the third time in the middle of the detachment briefing, it sprang back into your mind. The sound of those words, the ring of what was surely a false memory played through your ears. It was chased by the sound of the hospital monitors, the months of recovery. It made your stomach lurch as you turned your attention back to the admiral at the front of the room.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It really, really did not matter to you that Jake Seresin had been the last person you’d been in contact with as you’d grappled with control of the craft that day. It didn’t matter that he’d told you he’d see you on the ground, that things would be fine. It didn’t matter that you woke up alone, and that he hadn’t bothered to check in on you once. It didn’t matter that you’d once been on the way to considering him a friend—and that he’d made it clear that he didn’t give a damn what happened to you.

It certainly didn’t matter that Seresin was turning around to look at you for a fourth time.

“The hell is he looking at?” Was grumbled beside you. You couldn’t help the twitch of your smile as you glanced at your wingman, Baker.

“Bet he likes the look of you,” You teased. Baker snorted, slouching down in his seat and leaning into you a bit. You hardly noticed as he tipped his head toward yours, as if he was trying to get a better look at the Admiral. It was a moment of quiet between the two of you before Baker muttered, “He’s looking again.”

“Quit looking back.”

“I should do something.”

“If you lick my cheek, I will not hesitate to give you a whack in the sack.”

“That was one time.”

“Don’t make it two. And just ignore him. S’what I’m doing.”

“Not ignoring him well enough if you noticed him in the first place…You know him?”

You couldn’t lie—Baker could always tell when you were lying.

You used to think that you knew Jake Seresin. After that night at the bar—after the urging of C’mon kid, and that smile that always hit you right in the heart, you and Jake had waded into a tentative friendship. You hadn’t mooned over him like you had before…Well. Not in the same way. You’d mostly managed to keep a lid on it in his presence, and hadn’t even dared to voice any lingering interest to your friends. But you’d realized quickly enough during your recovery that Seresin cared just enough about you as he needed to, and dropped you when it seemed you wouldn’t return to service. He was an emotional deadweight. You’d spent the last three years convincing yourself that you were glad to be free of him.

“Used to,” You finally offered.

“I thought you couldn’t play pool.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you didn’t let your concentration slip. You didn’t let your hands shake with nerves like they would’ve back then. You pointedly ignored the warmth radiating from him, and the scent of his cologne as it wafted toward you. You just jabbed your stick forward, whacked the cue, and sank the six ball.

“That was a long time ago,” You insisted as you straightened.

“Yes it was.”

You rounded the table, away from where he’d taken residence at your side, your gaze fixed pointedly on the table. You bent at the waist, lining up your shot, and fighting off a smile as Baker stepped up beside you.

“This guy bothering you?” He asked.

It was wholly unnecessary, but also hilarious.

“Nope,” You answered simply, jabbing the cue ball. The shot just glanced off of your intended target, just barely missing the mark. You sighed through your nose, turning to find Baker holding two bottles of beer. “One of those mine?”

“Sure is,” He passed one over.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t think we’ve met.” Jake’s voice was just a little too loud, and a little too pointed. You had to hide your amusement with a swig.

“Don’t think we have,” Baker agreed. The two went quiet, and you felt each of them turning to look at you.

“You gonna do that honors?” Baker pressed. You shrugged, eyeing Jake dispassionately.

“No need. He’s never had a problem speaking up for himself.”

Jake’s self-assured smile stayed frozen in place, even as his eyes narrowed a touch. Then he forced his lips to widen to an award-winning-put-me-on-a-poster-Uncle-Sam-Wants-You grin, chin tipping up, despite the fact that he was already taller than Baker.

“Hangman.”

“Oh,” Baker chuckled, grinning. “Bagman? Yeah I heard’a you.”

“Can’t say it’s mutual.”

“Baker,” He waved to himself before nodding to you. “And you clearly know Gambit.”

“Sure. The kid and I go way back.”

The Kid. It made your stomach flip with equal measures of elation and queasiness. You pushed the gulp of beer down painfully, your eyes beginning to water from the exertion. You chanced a glance at Baker and found his dark brow knitted together, lips twitching with a frown as he looked down at you. It was a mistake to look at him—Baker knew you better than anybody. If there was even a hint of upset or discomfort, he would catch on it.

Before he could, you shoved the pool cue in his open hand and nodded toward the table with a mutter of, “Your turn.”

You turned from him, walking back to lean against the wall and watch. You forced your body wide—legs pointed outward, arm propped up against a ledge—rather than curling up and hiding yourself like you would’ve back when you first met Hangman. He took it easy, drifting steps toward you as if he was wary of spooking you, nearing in your periphery as you watched Baker sank the eleven.

“What do you make of the run?” Jake asked, leaning beside you.

“Should be fine.”

“You say fine or fun?”

“The roar of the jets finally getting to your ears?”

Jake huffed a soft laugh beside you, shifting from foot to foot.

“...Can we take this outside?” He asked after a moment.

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s my turn,” You answered, straightening up as Baker rounded the table to pass you the cue.

“What about after the game?” Jake pushed on, undaunted.

“I got next game!” Pym warned as he rounds into the room. “Gambit owes me a rematch.”

You couldn’t help but smile then, glancing back at him. You'd worked with Pym on your last detachment, and had gotten a little more involved than you’d normally allow yourself with one of your fellow service person. You turned toward the table again, letting yourself gaze at Hangman from beneath your lashes as you set up your shot.

“Occupied.”

You fired at the eight ball and sank it.

He didn’t know when to quit.

He lingered through multiple games and hung around for over two hours, waiting for Baker and Pym and the others to trickle out without you.

“You got a moment now?” He asked as you paid up your tab.

“Not really.”

“Someone, uh,” He looked around at the dwindling barflys. “Someone else coming out of the woodwork for a game?”

“It’s been a long day. I’m tired,” You excused, heading for the door—and hearing Hangman’s footfalls chasing you down.

“I’ll drive you back,” He offered, darting around to the front of you, walking backward and trying to catch your gaze.

“I’d rather walk.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” He reached back blindly, pushing the door open and letting you both out into the night.

“And it’d be my hell—Look, Hangman,” You raised your hand to staunch his argument. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying.” You stepped around him, walking determinedly away from him.

“Who’s selling anybody anything?” Jake asked, half-jogging after you. “Would you slow down? And what the hell’s with the attitude?—Hey,” He caught hold of your wrist, giving you a tug to try and slow or still you. “C’mon, kid—”

“Don’t!” You snapped, yanking your wrist out of his grip and turning to glare at Jake. “Do not call me that.”

Heat rose to your face at your outburst, and you drew in a deep, cool breath to steady yourself. Jake’s smile dampened. His expression was slowly shifting to confusion, his brow furrowing.

“...Alright,” He agreed softly, “I won’t.”

You clenched your jaw, turning away from him and beginning to walk away.

“Lemme walk you back,” He insisted again, catching up.

“I’m a big girl, Seresin, I can take care of myself. Have been for a long time.”

“I know.”

“So you can go back in and find someone else to give you attention for the night, seeing as that’s only as long as you need it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, please,” You scoffed. “The second someone stops giving you the attention you want, you drop them.”

“Hey!” Jake snapped, gripping your wrist again and yanking you back toward him. He kept his grip tight, even as you gave your arm tug after tug, trying to get him to let go. “I don’t know where the hell you go that idea, but you are dead wrong.”

“Bullshit,” You spat, even as Jake tugged you closer by his grip on your wrist. “You’re a narcissistic, self-centered ass. You don’t give a damn about anything or anyone but yourself!”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“Do I?” You scoffed a bitter laugh, “How the fuck would I know—”

“I told you I needed you to wake up, kid!”

You stopped struggling, your heart stuttering in your chest as you stared up at Jake, stunned. Your eyes searched his face for any falsehood, but you can’t find any, not a single spec. You finally yanked your wrist from him, backing away slowly as you shake your head.

“You weren’t there,” You managed.

“Yes, I was—”

“I woke up alone—”

“—I was reassigned, I stayed for as long as I could—”

“—You weren’t there, the nurse told me no one was there—”

“—They were wrong,” Jake insisted, closing the gap, taking hold of your shoulders to still you again. “They were wrong, I waited for you to wake up, I needed you to wake up.”

“Why the hell didn’t I hear from you?” You shook your head, “Why didn’t you reach out, or—or call—”

“You didn’t, either, so I didn’t think you’d want me to.” He swept his tongue across his lips, shifting from foot to foot. “I heard that you were doing well from other people, I just resigned myself to it. It drove me crazy, letting you go.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes prickling with stunned, stubbornly uncried tears.

“Then you shouldn’t’ve. You shouldn’t have, the one goddamn time you decide to let something go—”

Jake’s hands raised to cup your cheeks, drawing you in and covering your lips with his own. You felt your knees go a little weak, your hands grasping at his shirt as you pressed your lips to his. Jake smoothed a hand down your side before curling his arm around your back, drawing you into his chest to steady you. You puffed weakly as he broke the kiss, his forehead tipping to rest against yours.

“Don’t think I’m making that mistake twice, kid.”

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin x You #Hangman x Reader #Hangman x You #Jake Seresin fic #Hangman fic #Wake Up Kid

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sunoooism · 1 year

Text

> summary : how txt reacts when you dodge their kisses (separately)

› fluff / wc: 2.6k

› warnings : profanity, worrying, self doubt, pranks (obviously), gn!reader

⊹

→ choi yeonjun

petty af.

LIKE EXCUSE YOU⁉️ HOW DARE YOU⁉️

u were just sitting in his lap, scrolling through your phone and using his shoulder as a pillow waiting for the opportune moment.

when he leant down to give you a loving kiss you obviously dodged his lips.

no biggie, he figures. you must have been interested in whatever you were watching, that doesn't bother him.

"can I have a kissy? I didn't mean to get in the way of your phone, promise." pls he's so genuine it hurts.

you're weak for your boyfriend, who wouldn't be, so you're trying with all your might not to crack.

he is flabbergasted when you shake your head and answer with a no.

he knows you love his lips a little too much to be serious.

is confused, so therefore is trying to figure out what ur up to.

when he finally finds out it's a prank.

o h m y g o d.

tortures u 4 the next week.

"Junnie, can I have a kiss? pretty please? :)"

"no."

😦

go along with his game just to piss him off, it's only furthering your original trick.

see who cracks first.

spoiler alert it's him.

→ choi soobin

a tad bit hurt.

you can see his cute little smile drop, and the way he just stares at u. :(((

why would u even do that to him ?

panics a little.

did he make you uncomfortable ? do you not love him anymore ? is his breath smelly ?

you have to try and keep your composure when you see him out of the corner of your eye practically panting into his hand just so he can get a whiff.

even if his breath is completely fine expect to find him scrubbing his teeth and tongue like a maniac.

you'll go looking for him and find the man in question with a toothbrush half way down his throat, save him please.

feel bad and tell him it was a joke rn!! (or else)

he's pouty.

keeps asking for kisses and if you say no-

"you're so mean, after what you put me through? I think I scrubbed off my taste buds !! >:["

except to be trapped in his arms for the rest of the day.

→ choi beomgyu

this guy....

slightly offended and slightly amused, doesn't know which one to fully commit to.

he'll figure out a way to get kisses from you somehow.

the guilt tripping is insane tho.

like.

"I can't believe you don't love me anymore :("

it's all in good spirit tho, he knows u still adore him.

which is why he's now demanding kisses !!

if that doesn't work he'll try to melt u down until you're putty .

the bastard knows his glasses make your knees weak.

if you withstand the all powerful gyu with glasses then he moves onto his deep voice.

um, sorry to say but no one survives that.

he's clingy 4 the rest of the day, it's your fault.

→ kang taehyun

can't be arsed w your bullshit.

the epitome of 😐

knows it's one of your little jokes the moment he hears a hushed giggle.

subtle revenge bordering on yeonjun's pettiness.

no, nevermind. just pettiness.

will deny kisses from you for as long as it takes for you to admit what you did or say sorry.

he might not even stop once you do either of those.

bro's a menace.

It's gotten to the point where you just sneak kisses to his cheek whenever he has his guard down.

he obviously wipes it off tho.

evil.

flash those puppy eyes and his lips r urs again.

→ huening kai

poor bby get's worried he did something wrong :((

panic mode 2

"sweets? are you mad? :(("

gets in his own head a lil bit.

is thinking about everything he did that day in order to deduct how he upset u.

comfort him rn.

he just kind of floats around you for the remainder of the day feeling shitty.

when you ask him what's the matter with an underlying giggle he lies and says nothing.

the immense guilt you feel when you spot him lying on your bed and staring at a plain wall, ignoring his usually overly loved plushies :{

if your heart doesn't get soft who r u.

apologise to this overthinking man.

u r now smothered with kisses and cuddles for the rest of the day, he should have compensation for this outrage !!!

man baby.

©sunoooism

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sgt-morgan · 2 years

Note

Angst related to season 2 with elektra coming back and current gf struggling with insecurities regarding her relationship with Matt

Deserving ❤️‍🩹

Summary: You and Matt are in a situationship, and Elektra seems to spell trouble for your budding romance.

Warnings:AFAB & Female identifying reader, angsty, hurt comfort. I am not super versed in the art of angst, and I don’t know what to tag. If you want a warning here it is.

A/N: I hope this satisfied your ask, I want more of them! I hope this is what you wanted!

Daredevil Masterlist

Jesus sweet Christ. She was back. Long black hair, Hot as the ninth level of hell, knows how to kick ass, clever, rich. Not a lot to compete with there, you supposed, she’s just… hotter? It just… didn’t make sense to you, if Matt had access to all… that. Why in the name of all hell was he choosing to date an obnoxious, mouthy, poor, accident prone lawyer with no notable features to mention. It made exactly no sense. You weren’t that serious you supposed, you sort of dated, three real dates, patching a lot of bruises, snuggles on couches, you supposed that you were considered his girlfriend. Maybe not though, I mean Jesus, she is both named and dressed like a mortal combat character. On a good day all you could compare yourself to was someone from street fighter two. How were you to compete? Someone was clearly winning here, and you didn’t feel like it was you.

They had totally fucked too. The body language, the smiles, the communication? They knew each others bodies. No denying chemistry. You were confused about all your feelings too. Was this jealousy? No, it felt more like… resignation? Like okay, hot boyfriend has a super, SUPER hot ex, there’s very obviously some unrequited feeling, you are a worm and they’re bald eagles. Eagles don’t date worms, they consume them then fly off to their hotter eagle-y girlfriends and sometimes maybe reminisce about how good the worm was, before remembering how much cooler their girlfriend was. God, this sucked. But, then again, you remembered them dating in college, and she made Matt miserable for a time. You remembered stories from college, you remembered how long putting Matt back together took for you and Foggy. You remembered how hard he fought being loved. Remembered his belief that he was a terrible person. Remembered the long road back to happiness. Surely, you thought, surely there was no love lost there. She just needed his help, Daredevil’s help. They didn’t want each other. They were like oil and water. It would be fine. You decided to give Matt the benefit of the doubt.

You two worked and acted as if nothing was wrong. However, while for you it was an act, for Matt, he saw it as a sign that he could lean in on what he was trying to accomplish with Elektra. It was taking its toll, but Matt was yet to notice. It was horrible, you felt miserable, and you had no other choice but to simply wait it out. You knew he would make the right choice eventually, but when?

Sometime in the middle of this you’re approached by Jeri Hogarth. It’s a good offer, smart, pays good, right in your wheelhouse, and with a shining endorsement from Jessica Jones. (Or as shining anything Jessica says can get.) It seems tempting, but you don’t accept. You can’t, not when you Foggy, and Matt have built so much. Then he doesn’t show to court.

“Mathew! You can’t just bail on this case! There’s no way we can do it if you’re not-“

“We’re sorry, you’ve run out of time.”

“Damn it!” You slammed your phone down and continued to pace, waiting for Matt but he never showed. You knew about the Roxxon Gala, but with him putting all of your necks on the line for Frank fucking castle, you expected him to show. Not only that, but he’s bailed on dates, she’s staying in his apartment, she looks at you like you’re garbage and Matt just… lets her. Jeri’s offer weighs. It gets more attractive by the hour.

“I’m here!” He cries, finally bursting through the first set of doors, you usher him in, and witness the whispered argument between him and Foggy and don’t really think much of it. One time mistake, he will do better, besides, we’re saving the world here.

Things keep spiraling though, and you’re having to do friendship triage. You have to take the brunt of his and Foggy’s headbutting. It’s obnoxious, when you built this practice, you did it to make your lives better, not ruin your friendships. It’s weighing on you. Matt can tell, and the guilt he feels is unmatched. He just can’t stop. This feels too big too… important. Then one ninja battle too far puts you over the edge.

“Matt! Are you here? We need your he-“ there she is. In his bed. In your clothing. “Oh.” Your voice comes out strained and small. Matt has never heard it that quiet. That defeated.

“Honey it’s not-“ but he doesn’t get that far. Your whole body just… deflates. He can hear the silent tears, feels the shuddering. You’re done. This was the last straw. He can tangibly feel you slipping through his fingers, hears the shatter of your heart and that’s when he knows he’s been a fool. “Oh. Oh my love.” He coos, reached for you, desperate to put back all that he’s broken, trying to stop the sand spilling out the hour glass. You flinch away. His whole heart shatters. Breaks to a million pieces and falls there at your feet.

“Matt I-“ you shrug, a mirthless laugh shudders through your tears. “I don’t even know what to say here.” He drops his head and nodded, properly scolded.

“No. I- I don’t blame you.” He nods, gesturing towards the bedroom. “She was stabbed, it was poison- I… It’s not about that though. I know.”

“Do you?” You sniffle. “I don’t think you do. Matt I-“ You sighed and gathered your things. “I had to help put you back together with my own two hands Matthew, she ruined you, and you’re letting her do it again. I don’t even recognize you anymore. That’s sad Matt, because I was just starting to love you. I’m… I’m done.”

Then, you were gone. Your letter of resignation was on their desks promptly by 7 am, you accepted the job with Jeri Hogarth, and that was it. Matt fucked it all up. He kept fighting, but there, all day every day was this immense pain. He has lost You. You, the woman who every day smiled at him, and made him a coffee, and joked about his night life, you who never once required him to give up a part of himself to save your friendship, you, who had loved him. Loved him completely. He’d lost it all. Then, he lost some more. Frank castle had disappeared, and they had lost the case. Foggy and Karen left, Elektra died. He was all alone.

Then like the warm sun after a long winter, you came. It was the day of Elektra’s funeral.

“You’ve gotta let ‘em all go Matty. It’s time. I’ve told you, over and over, going have to let go of your emotional ties. You’re weak with them.” Stick shrugged, “without them, you could accomplish so much more.”

Matt chuckled bitterly, “No. You’ve taken too much from me already, but you won’t take my heart. Elektra is dead, we defeated the hand for now, but I never would have even thought it was worth it if it weren’t for them. For Elektra, Karen, Foggy. They are worth it. My love for them is worth it.” He shook his head, and tears welled in his eyes. “Y/N was worth it too, and you took that from me, you and Elektra and your little games. You took it from me, and Y/N may hate me. God! I hope she does hate me! She was the one good thing I had Stick, she put back together all those little shattered bits, and built me back into the man I am today. Then, I repay her with this.” He gestures to Elektra’s grave, to the city at large, to himself. “She was beautiful, and kind, and perfect. She made me happy. She made me want to keep fighting for this stupid city, and now Elektra is dead, you’re still here ruining my life, and Y/N hates me. Even with all that, it was worth it. Because if for one second, she is safer than she was before I made this sacrifice. Then fighting to the death, for this city, for her, is worth it. I love her Stick, that’s the only thing that keeps me going. I love her, and now she’s safe. Safe from the hand, safe from Frank Castle, and she’s safe from me. Knowing that Y/N has a chance to flourish and grow, that’s what makes all this fighting, this pain, the devil. It makes it all worth while. If I give that up, what is it all for?” Then he sat in silence, and stick went away.

At first, sitting there at Elektra’s grave, he thought the smell of your perfume was a hallucination. Another stray temptation, another ghost of a memory come to haunt him. He treasured it though, even the idea of you was a beautiful thing. He embraced the memory, though it was painful. Then he was enveloped on it, the smell surrounded h, then he realized he was no longer alone. He froze. Then his senses started to catch up to his reeling mind. The smell, the faint taste of the sweat of your brow in the breeze, the sound of your breath. You were there. You were there, sitting and staring at Elektra’s grave, holding flowers. Then you reached out a hand, and stroked his cheek. He pushed his face into your palm, starving for your touch. He whimpered, the tears he was holding finally let loose. Then you were speaking.

“I don’t hate you Matt. I couldn’t if I tried.” You sighed and bundled him to you. Placing the flowers on the bench and holding him as he cried. You had heard everything.

“I never got the chance to tell you.” He cried, “you were gone- I let you go. But I never told you.” His sobs wracked his body, and you ached with their severity.

“Tell me what Matty?” You shushed, drying tears and attempting to coax him to an answer.

“I never told you I loved you.” He sighed and clutched your face in his hands. “It’s you, it’s always gonna be you. I love you, I love your humor, your laugh, your smell, the touch of your hands can cure my every wound. It’s always been you. I was just too stupid to see you slipping away. I never wanted to loose you. You’re my everything, I just never said anything because- because you deserve so much better than me. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh Matthew,” you began to cry as well, “My sweet, imbecilic devil man. You always deserved me, every day you throw your life on the line for us, for this city. I always thought you deserved me, and I deserve you. I didn’t see that at first, and I should have fought for it. I left you when you needed me, and I’ll never forgive myself”

“No!” He cried, pressing your foreheads together frantically. “You will never take the blame for this. I was wrong you deserved the best of me, and I didn’t give it. I gave up? I was a fool.”

You laughed and nuzzled your noses closer. “Then let’s call it a draw and say we were both foolish. We can be fools together. We deserve each other.”

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irondad-defensesquad · 1 month

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You're all I need to get by

Also on AO3! FINALLY!!! I FINISHED THIS!!! I can't believe this was meant for Sicktember of last year, I feel so ashamed 😭 Anyway, the original prompt was "But if you stay, you'll get sick too". Just a fluffy sickfic with some tiny bit of angst :)

“Mr. Stark?”

Tony feels like he has just returned to reality. Was he sleeping? Was he awake? Was he not even here?

Either way, Peter is shyly appearing in his room.

“Oh, hey kiddo,” Tony sniffs, unable to move without everything aching and burning. He checks his phone on the bedside table. “Shoot, sorry I’m late. I’ll get ready and we’ll fix your suit.”

“Actually… I brought you hot chocolate.”

Tony freezes, right when he’s about to remove his blanket. Peter is gently holding a customized Spider-Man cup that the kid made for him. Hopefully, Peter won’t know that it’s Tony’s most treasured cup.

“I noticed you weren’t feeling well yesterday,” the teen explains. “So… I thought it might make your day a little better.”

The man feels like he could cry. Peter is so shy. So adorable. It doesn’t help that he's wearing one of Tony’s old MIT hoodies.

“Gee, thanks, bud,” Tony smiles, taking the hot chocolate like it’s a precious invention. Anything Peter Parker creates is indeed revolutionary.

Peter grabs his chair and puts it next to the bed, sitting next to Tony.

“Wait, you’re staying?” The latter questions.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”

“If you stay, you’re gonna catch whatever gross thing I have.”

“I’m not gonna get sick, I’ll be fine.”

“Peter…”

“I mean,” the teen suddenly grows nervous, “do you want me to stay? Because it’s okay if you wanna be alone.”

Peter is already standing up.

“No, no,” Tony stops him, “you can stay if you want.”

The other is sitting again. He stays quiet for a moment, watching the sick man.

“You don’t usually get sick, do you?” Peter asks.

Tony shrugs, muttering, “I’m just good at hiding it.”

Peter obviously hears it and doubts him, even if he doesn’t verbally say it.

“Did you take any medicine?” The boy asks instead.

“Yeah. I’m still feeling like shit, though.”

Peter hums. “Can I help with anything else?”

“I dunno.” Tony takes a sip of the hot chocolate. “I miss my lab,” he whines.

“Maaaaaybe I could bring DUM-E here?”

“And have him fire extinguish me to help with my fever? No thanks.”

Peter blinks. “Did- Did that happen?”

“Yeah, when I was doing the first flight tests for my armor. I wasn’t even on fire.”

The kid snorts, wanting to laugh really badly. Tony glares at him.

“Oh, you think that’s funny?”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah, yeah, you little shit.”

“Jesus, Mr. Stark. You’re so grumpy when you’re sick.” Peter then lowers his voice, “More than usual.”

Tony’s glare becomes a face of betrayal. “Well, why wouldn’t I be grumpy when literally everything hurts?”

Peter smirks, “Okay, that’s fair. Sorry.”

Tony sighs.

“But you know DUM-E loves you, right?” The teenager reminds him.

Tony’s face softens. “Yeah,” he says. Like a liar.

He briefly faces the hot chocolate before taking another sip, feeling it warming his soul, before he gazes at the sun again. The brightest smile of all. It’s impossible not to smile back.

“Yeah.” This time, Tony sounds a little more confident.

Peter’s grin becomes brighter, somehow. The man doesn’t hide his eyes behind his loyal sunglasses, instead welcoming the warmth.

They share this moment in silence, but a comfortable one. Tony finishes the hot chocolate, taking a relieved, deep breath. There’s still too much snot inside him, but it helped, a lot.

He wishes he didn’t get sick, because he’s the one who should look out for the kid, and he misses working to keep his active mind busy. Still, Peter convinces him to relax and stay in bed with delicious hot chocolates and those big puppy eyes.

“I think I’ll have one more, please,” Tony requests, handing the empty cup to Peter.

“Wow, really? I didn’t think you’d like it that much. I mean, the chocolate is super fancy, but…”

“It’s because you made it, Pete. It’s special.”

Peter blushes. “Um… thanks. I-I’ll be right back.”

Tony smiles and watches him leave, waiting patiently.

It’s a quiet, easy day today. Things haven’t gone as planned, but that’s not all that bad.

Peter is eating now mostly due to Tony’s insistence. He’s checking social media in the meantime, and with his spider-powers, he makes sure Tony is doing okay even from afar.

That’s how he realizes his mentor has fallen asleep, judging by the loud snores coming from his room. They might sound a little stuffed, but it shows that it’s a heavy sleep.

He smiles to himself, glad to know that Tony is finally getting some rest. The hero is the kind of person who can’t stand still, not even when he’s sick. He didn’t stop working last night and Peter didn’t mean to pry. Knowing how stubborn he is, Peter admits he’s a little surprised that Tony is complying.

The teen decides to go there and check on him, doing as little noise as possible. Tony doesn’t seem to have noticed him. Peter then realizes three things: one, Tony drank all the hot chocolate given the empty cup on the bedside table. Two, there are many dirty tissues around the cup. Three, the blanket is on the floor. Peter throws the tissues in the small trash bin near the desk, then he uses the tiny hand sanitizer to quickly and carefully tuck Tony in again, hoping he’s not feverish. To confirm that, Peter lightly touches the older man’s forehead. It’s mild. That’s a good sign, he thinks.

Tony quiets down at the touch, like he’s relaxed.

Peter grins.

He bends down…

He doesn’t really notice what he’s doing until Tony lets out confused noises.

“Hm…? Wha?”

Peter is…

He’s kissing Tony’s forehead.

Shit.

Peter doesn’t know what came over him. It was completely automatic.

He, unfortunately, is not quick enough to run away before Tony catches him on the doorstep.

“Pete?” His mentor calls, sniffing.

“H-Hey, Mr. Stark! I just came to get your cup, nothing important!” Peter can’t contain the nervousness in his voice. “Sorry for waking you up, y-you can go back to sleep! Okay, bye!”

He leaves before the conversation goes any further, and he runs to his bedroom with the empty Spider-Man cup. Leaving it on his bedside table, Peter takes his pillow and screams in it, still not wanting to be too loud.

“Why did you do that?! You stupid idiot! That was so creepy!” He curses at himself.

Uggghhhh. He can only hope that Tony wasn’t too conscious when it happened.

Why? Why is he like this?

Walking on tiptoes, looking behind to see if he’ll get caught, Peter approaches the bed and the stuffed breaths in the half dark room.

“... Uncle Ben,” Peter whispers. “Hey, Uncle Ben!”

“Eh?” Ben moves around, smiling when he sees the boy. “Ah, hey sport. You shouldn’t be near me, or you’ll catch my bug.”

“It’s okay, Uncle Ben, I don’t mind. I just wanted to give you hot chocolate.”

“Aww, thanks, Pete. You can leave it here, I’ll drink it soon.” Ben grins like his nephew is the whole world to him. “You’re an angel.”

Peter grins and puts the cup next to him, but he’s quickly busted when the door opens behind him.

“Peter, I told you to let your uncle rest,” Aunt May scolds him. “And you’re going to get late for school!”

“Ah, it’s alright, May. He just wanted to look out for me,” Ben argues. “But really now, you should get going. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I hope you get better soon, Uncle Ben.” Peter approaches and plants a little kiss on the man’s forehead. “I’ll see you later!”

“Alright, kiddo. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

Peter, already in school uniform, is walking away to follow his aunt, who despite being initially stern, seems to have softened.

But before he leaves…

“Pete?”

Except it’s not Uncle Ben calling for him.

… Peter has been staring at the Spider-Man cup for what probably feels like hours, when he sees that his door is open wide (though it was never actually closed), and Tony is gazing at him with his big concerned eyes. Peter has been sitting miserably at his bed this entire time.

Apparently it’s dark out.

Tony looks a little better now, no longer pale or dead-looking. He still sniffs every now and then.

“Are you okay?” The man asks.

Peter puts the cup aside, on his bedside table, and completely ignores Tony’s question.

“You look so much better, Mr. Stark!” He comments, forcing a smile. “Do you want anything? You’re probably hungry, right? I could make more hot chocolate too–”

He’s on his way to the door when Tony goes in, not allowing him to leave.

“Kid, you’ve been looking after me all day. Obviously, I’m glad you’re here with me, but you don’t have to push yourself aside to take care of me.”

Peter looks down, not sure what to say.

(He keeps wondering if Tony remembers the forehead kiss. He’s scared of bringing it up.)

“... I’m sorry.”

“What?”

Oh, that wasn’t supposed to come out.

“I mean…” Peter sighs. “I-It was automatic, y’know. I can tell when someone isn’t doing great, a-and I- I have to help them. I want to help! And I know you don’t rest a lot, so that’s why I thought…”

He’s kind of rambling, not really knowing where he’s going with this.

“But what about you, Peter? Did you eat? Did you rest?”

“Well, I ate breakfast.”

“But not lunch?”

“I wasn’t hungry–”

“Peter–”

“Look, I’m sorry! I’m sorry I did- anything, and I’m sorry I kissed your forehead!”

Truly he understands why everyone else tells him to shut up.

“... oh.”

Tony doesn’t actually sound surprised, but maybe he thought he had imagined it. He was half-asleep, after all.

“I don’t know what came over me,” Peter says, when he knows what did. “It was stupid and probably creepy and- and maybe we shouldn’t bring that up again–”

“Hey, kid, I’m not mad about that.”

Peter covers his eyes with his hands. “Ugh, it was so dumb.”

Tony sighs.

Defeated, the teenager sits on the bed again, glancing at the cup watching them.

Suddenly, Tony is kneeling down in front of him.

“Peter,” he begins, “you have a big heart. You have so much love to give, it’s no wonder why you’re a hero. And I’m glad to know I’m worthy of your love.”

The boy sees the hidden tears in his mentor’s eyes.

“I don’t want you to feel that I don’t want you here,” Tony insists, “I just don’t want you throwing away your needs to focus on me or anyone else. Sure, you have responsibilities… but you’re still a kid.”

He doesn’t mean that pejoratively.

“Seriously, thank you for everything. But you’re important too. You’re important to me, kid,” Tony affirms, smiling sadly.

He gently cups Peter’s face with both hands, gazing at him for a few seconds before Tony stands high enough to kiss the teen’s forehead.

“Sorry for getting my germs on your head,” the man jokes. Still, he looks at Peter like he’s Tony’s whole universe.

Peter can’t even react properly. He thought he ruined everything between them, and here is the man he’s admired for years acknowledging and praising him, and reminding Peter that he’s worthy of love.

Tony is not outright saying he loves Peter… but does he have to?

The boy wraps his arms around Tony, who hesitates, probably because he doesn’t want to get Peter sick. Then his mind must say “screw it”, because Tony is hugging him back.

Peter never imagined he needed to hear Tony’s words this badly.

They stay there for a while, before Peter’s stomach rumbles, and Tony decides to do something about it.

“Wanna order something?” He suggests.

“Oh, that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, you choose, kid.”

“Okay.”

They order burgers and fries. Part of it is because Tony loves them, but Peter has been craving some all day.

They watch some TV, and this time DUM-E is here. The bot is happy to join them.

Tony mostly keeps some space between him and Peter, though he eventually wraps an arm around him to lightly squeeze him.

“Nothing better than spending time with your kids at home, right?” Tony smirks.

Peter blushes and smiles. “Yeah.”

DUM-E agrees.

#lotus speaks #irondad #fics #my fics #sickfic #anti starker

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pigeonwit · 5 months

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hello again mr pigeon 'pidge' wit i come to u with a writing req ....... no pressure to write obviously!!!!

but consider ur shitface drunk davey w jack (potentially friends too) at a restaurant ... javey aren't together at this point ... but davey is just a little too drunk and ends up pretty much lying with his head on jacks lap ... cue 'jack, I don't wanna go all the way home all by myself ....... can I come home with you?' and jack being the smitten pushover he is of course lets David 'Lightweight' Jacobs sleep in his bed with him ...

davey wakes up has no recollection of what happened and is SO concerned when he wakes up in jacks bed - jack is shirtless - and oh lord he's SO hungover .... anyway ...

consider also jack waking up and saying 'hey beautiful' and Davey short circuiting and jack shrugging and saying 'well u seemed to like it just fine last night'

sorry for the long af ask but this????? in your writing style!!!!! I would shit myself /pos

roman i have had this in my inbox for so long cause i want to write this so goddamn badly but alas uni is killing me, so that's probably not gonna happen for a while. BUT! i do have little snippets for your convenience, because again, this idea was so fun and i wanted to write it so so badly. hope these can tide you over:

“Davey,” Jack says, far more charmed than he should be, because he is pathetic, “maybe you oughta take a break for a bit, you’re-”

“Don’t worry yourself, handsome,” Davey winks, and Jack immediately feels his stomach drop. They have entered Flirty Drunk Davey, which means Jack is going to be of no help for the entire evening. “I’m a big boy, I can make my own decisions, and I’m deciding to get sloshed tonight.” He drums his hands on the table as he gets up and shoots Jack a finger-gun as he stumbles only slightly. “Livin’ la vida loca!”

Oh, Jack is a sad man. Jack is a weak, pathetic little man who is in love with someone that just said livin’ la vida loca unironically. Jack is a sad, sad man.

[…]

“And iguanodons,” Davey says quite seriously, with one finger raised like a very wobbly professor,“iguanodons, they walk like – like this…”

He shapes each of his hands into three-toed points and leans forward to plant them on the floor.

“Oh, no-” Jack says quickly, taking his wrists and gently pulling him upright. “No, Davey, that’s okay, don’t – don’t crawl on the floor, pal.”

Davey looks at him with the largest eyes Jack’s ever seen in his life.

“But that’s how iguanodons walk…” He says plaintively, like Jack is a monster who is stifling a very important display of science, and Jack is so pathetically gone for him that he’s almost tempted to say, ‘I’m sorry Davey, by all means crawl around on the floor like a dinosaur, I love you so much.’ Christ, he needs to skip town, go somewhere so repressed he’ll never even think about feelings again without curling up and dying of shame. Britain, maybe. Or wherever the Amish live.

“I know, bud,” Jack soothes, rubbing a hand down his back. “You, uh – you just show me later, okay? We’re going inside now.”

[…]

Right. Right. Breathe. Facts. That’s what Davey needs. Facts.

Fact one: he is currently in Jack’s bed, in Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact two: he cannot remember how he got into either Jack’s bed or Jack’s sweatpants.

Fact three: Jack is making pancakes. Shirtless. With a bit of batter stuck to his collarbone that Davey really wants to lick.

(Fact three, subheading: Davey might still be a little bit drunk)

Conclusion: Davey had literally mind-blowing sex last night while more drunk than a Baltic tide and has thus not only ruined the best friendship he’s ever had, but can’t even reminisce over the memory of it to soothe the wound. Fantastic.

#again - the iguanadon thing is a real thing that has happened.#newsies #uksies #(it's always uksies here)#pigeon scribbles #fic thoughts #loiteringandlurking #javey #davey jacobs #david jacobs #jack kelly #javid

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emotionaldepravity · 1 year

Text

How various FE Engage Characters would react to receiving Valentine chocolate....

Alfred

-Alfred would be so pumped! He would pull you into a hug as soon as you handed it to him.

“Wow these are so nice! I feel so loved! Though I feel a bit bad that I haven’t gotten you anything yet.”

-He eats all the chocolates immediately. He does mention that the chocolates that have a floral notes are especially tasty.

-To make up for his lack of a present, he tries to take you on a run so you have to get him to let his stomach settle before he makes himself sick.

-Later, he gifts you a large and beautiful bouquet of Firenese flowers as thanks.

“Thank you, [Y/N]. Though these beautiful buds will one day will

Diamant

-Diamant would look quite stoic as he gracefully takes the chocolates from you.

-He sneaks a bite of one of them and hums as he savors the taste of it. He mentions that the grape flavor reminds him of some of his favorite dishes.

“You are quite skilled in making chocolate. Perhaps I should hire you personally to make chocolate for me.”

-He blushes at his own words.

“Obviously you mean more to me than just making sweets tolerable. What I mean to say is thank you for the gift. It is very lovely that you considered my tastes so carefully.”

-He offers you a polished and cut gemstone set in a bracelet made specially for you. Though he wouldn’t say it, it took a lot of effort to get it crafted from the gem he mined personally for you.

Alcryst

-Alcryst would be so confused. He wonders if someone dared you to give him a gift.

“I’m so sorry that you would even have to waste this precious chocolate on me.”

-Once you explain that you made them specifically for him and put a lot of love into making them, his eyes get wide.

”I’m so sorry if I was insulting your feelings. How rude of me! I just never thought you would give such a lovely gift to me of all people. Even if I had really hoped you would find it in your heart to offer it to someone as lowly as me.”

-He quickly opens them to eat a few to show his appreciation. He picks out the flavors exactly and asks how you made them. He might not actually try to make the chocolate himself especially since he doesn’t often eat sweets, but he wants to show he really does appreciate the effort you put in for him.

Griss

-Griss would look oddly disappointed as you hand him the box of chocolates.

“What’s this? Chocolate? I’m not about that sweet stuff, babe. You know I like something more... substantial.”

-When you tell him that they are for him to give to you as rewards as you dish out his real present, a wicked grin stretches across his face. He seems extremely pleased at the thought.

- He pulls out a necklace with a small empty vial as the pendant.

“I thought we could at one more event to tonight. I even know exactly where you should carve me open to really fill that thing up.”

Mauvier

Mauvier at first would be concerned at the chocolates that you present to him.

“I can’t accept these, [Y/N]. I’m afraid that I do not enjoy them all that much. Please gift them to someone who will truly be able to accept them wholeheartedly.”

-When you explain to him that they are specifically filled with apple and nut milk pie filling, his serious expression melts.

“Forgive me for jumping to conclusions. These are especially thoughtful. Would you like to eat these with me? There is a particular hill I think that would make a fine place for a picnic.”

-He does have a gift for you that he crafted himself, but he’d rather give it to you once sitting among the flowers looking out over the beautiful scenery.

Pandreo

-Pandreo would take the chocolate and immediately start praying for thanks that you would give him a beautiful gift like this.

“Bless you, [Y/N]. May your kindness be returned to you ten-fold.”

-He of course invites you to his Valentines party in return. Normally he would go around to other people, but even in the crowd, his attention never leaves you.

“I can’t wait to party with you till the sun comes up, [Y/N].”

-During the party, he sings you a song that he wrote specifically for you.

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the-ghost-king · 2 months

Text

[Part 1]

"You can just call me Persephone you know," there's a slight tremble to her voice, Will can't quite place it, and it's not obvious enough to call her out on it, he only even catches it because of his musical inclined ear (Apollo score 1-2). He tried to ignore it, but he can't help but notice the weight her hesitant pause causes in the air around them.

He debates whether or not to say something, but she beats him to it.

"For you, at least, I'm not so nice to everyone so don't be giving anyone else ideas. However you can address me without my title, it's fine."

"It's an honor then," Will catches himself before he addresses her too formally, "Thank you."

She nods, somewhat stiffly.

They continue their walk down the hallway, there's a tension in the air Will hasn't felt since he tried to date Drew. Not a mistake but, not his best decision either.

“Would you like to cut through my garden on the way back?”

He’s not sure where this is going, or what is happening, but she has always been kind to him so far. He, against the advice of many hero’s stories, will trust a god not to lead him wrong. To her credit, Nico is still alive and not killing your husband’s secret bastard has to require a lot more restraint than not killing his boyfriend.

Really Will is more like an accessory. He's like Ken. He thinks it would be nice if his job was beach. Though he thinks of Percy, and decides he would not like to be Percy.

He realizes then that Persephone is staring at him, he can see her move her thumb to press on the joint of her pointer finger and the soft “pop” that emits as she cracks her joint.

“Oh yes, of course, I'm sorry- please, lead the way.”

A smile blooms across her face, “Wonderful! Off we go then!”

Will is pleased to get a good grade in appeasing goddesses. Or goddess. But he'll take it.

She leads him this was and that, her steps both meandering and direct, until they arrive at a large open space. The ground is soft and plush, but it's the plants that take his breath away.

The garden is obviously meant to be approached from a certain angle, as his awe from seeing it before cannot be compared to his awe at seeing it now. Will is well versed in plants, demigods tendency to try and self destruct and his ability to patch them back together means he is well versed in many healing arts and plants are just another aspect of that. There are plants here though that Will has never seen or heard of, their leaves glisten in the ambient light, and each petal looks like it was cut from gemstones. There's a bioluminescent glow coming from many of the plants and the provide a soft patchwork of light that fills the space with many colors.

“It's amazing,” Will says, at a loss for more eloquent words.

“I'm glad you like it, I figured you would understand it's beauty. I'm glad you can appreciate it.”

Will turns to her and smiles, “Well, of course, thank you so much for sharing.”

“C'mon,” Persephone waves him forward into the stone pathways of the garden, “we still have a ways to go.”

They walk in a more comfortable silence now, Persephone pausing briefly here and there to give extra attention to a flower or a bud. He watches her place a kiss to a glowing pink rose at one point and then feels confused as her face turns red. After that he feels nervous to touch anything, worried about the possibility of an allergic reaction if it was able to have such an effect on the goddess of spring and flowers.

“I actually was hoping to catch you alone,” Persephone rubs a hand up and down her shoulder.

Will hesitates again, but he would like to think he does a better job of masking his hesitation in his footsteps this time. He debates speaking but worries about ruining the moment.

“What did you want to talk about? Or tell me I suppose?” He finished awkwardly.

“Oh umm,” she twists a vine around her fingers, tumbling it over and over with a feigned causality, “it's a little complicated?”

Will looks around and all he can see around them is an expanse of abundant wildlife growing, above water dripping of stalactites twinkles.

“I think we have a little while before we reach the dining room again.”

He gives her a comforting smile, and she smiles back.

[Part 3]

#pjo #persephill #fanfic #part 2 and 3 have arrived!!

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