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ma1dita · 3 months

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crazy little thing

a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.4k

summary: (pre-established relationship) The one where he spends all his drachmas to make you smile. Sometimes, the Apollo kids are better matchmakers than Aphrodite herself. Everyone’s tired of you two dancing around each other. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: lil valentines day special though im working on more est. relationship fluff after this!! happy season 2 renewal babies

(posted 2/9/24 unbetaed)

—

“Come on, you gotta admit—it’s kinda funny!”

Luke is met with blank stares at the camp store after he places a few drachmas onto the folding table in front of the Apollo kids. They’re not sure if he’s trying to convince them, or himself.

Because yeah, that’s the excuse he goes for, wanting to spend his savings on having them sing to a certain head counselor instead of admitting his blatantly obvious feelings, so if you ask Lee Fletcher and his half-siblings, it’s kind of pathetic.

“What do we look like, a traveling mariachi band, Castellan?” he deadpans, watching the usually confident boy scratch the back of his neck with his face red like someone who’s been sitting out in the sun for too long.

“I’m not saying to follow her around all day or whatever, just pick a random time to sing a song and catch her off-guard,” he insists, before meeting the judgmental look of one of Lee’s younger siblings.

Lee chuckles, ruffling his sister’s hair before looking at Luke quite seriously, “She’s a good friend. You’re gonna have to pay us more than that. Special song for a special lady after all.”

The son of Hermes knows he’s gonna regret this sooner or later, but proceeds to throw the rest of his meager earnings onto the table. He has other ways of being resourceful anyway, the box of chocolates he nicked from behind the store counter feeling heavy in his jacket pocket.

“Right…she’s just a friend.”

Luke’s hands fidget at his sides as he stands there, feeling a little stupid.

Lee’s little sister scoops up the coins from the table, her raised eyebrows and light aura mirroring that of her older brother.

“What song were you thinking?” she asks, “Gotta make sure I know it if I’m singing it to your…friend.”

The 18-year-old boy tugs at his dark curls, getting more embarrassed and wanting to retreat with every minute that passes, but he’s never been one to back down from anything–swordfights, monsters, capture the flag, but this—trying to impress you...is a whole different story somehow.

Why are feelings so damn complicated?

It feels like being at the butt of a joke, or more accurately—at the sharp edge of a sword, and Luke never lets his fights end in a draw.

“You guys got it covered. Just…surprise me too, I guess,” he sighs, walking off without finishing his sentence. He wishes he could pray a little harder to his dad for luck, even if he’s unsure of what exactly he’s wishing for (or if his dad will even listen).

“Castellan’s hopeless. You think he knows it yet?” the girl asks her brother, to which Lee laughs.

“I don’t think she does either, even though everyone else can see right through them. The new bets are on who’s gonna break first. Chiron’s been keeping track, but don’t tell Mr. D.”

If Luke wants a show, they’ll make sure he’ll get his money’s worth—and hopefully, it’ll push you two along faster. Lee bet on you two getting together before the summer after all, and he’ll be damned if he loses to Clarisse.

—

Valentine’s Day might be the day of love, but for you, someone who’s single (not by choice), and heavily busy with making sure people aren’t so…enamored in public (you’ve lost count of the reports you’ve written out due to indecent behavior this morning alone)---this just feels like another Wednesday, except with more hormonal teenagers with uncontrollable urges than usual.

Oh, the joys of being the daughter of the camp director, also known as everyone’s favorite narc.

Honestly, love can suck it. With this much love in the air, you can feel it suffocating you like a plastic bag over your head.

That’s an uncontrollable urge. Too much?

Maybe Silena was right, you do need to open yourself up more to romantic opportunities. But if you have to watch another person swap spit and get pawed at like they’re the last dinner roll at the table….You might commit arson and set this place ablaze.

You just didn’t understand why people had to go all out today of all days. Shouldn’t love be shown year-round? Though you were a person of theatrics and enjoy a good show, it is amazing how much grandiose displays of affection make you cringe. It felt very performative, instead of genuine, and you would know, you’re the best actress at camp. You’ve acted out stories before, knowing all of the greatest romances and tragedies by heart. And you pride yourself on being a decent teacher to the campers, but for some of them, love still translates to a bad rendition of a ballad they heard on the radio.

Nothing gets past you at this point.

But that sucks too sometimes, you know?

Multiple failed flings and a heartbreak or two weigh down on you on days like this one, as you’re stuck being a bystander to outlandish displays put on by the Aphrodite kids being put to work. Love is their domain anyway, and yours…makes you feel a little less undesirable. Each demigod has their own strengths and weaknesses, but perhaps in the name of love, some of them don’t know how to take a hint. Several forgettable prose readings, a Sparknotes version of Eros and Psyche, and too many red roses to count have you reeling from exhaustion and a bit of disgust—-and it’s only lunchtime.

So yeah, maybe you’re a little jealous; they could call you Nemesis at this point.

The only flowers you got today were from the little kids from along the path to the strawberry orchard, and though it’s sweet—the human side of you misses affection.

Devotion.

To be a daughter of Dionysus meant to deal in extremes, obsession or nothing, and there are very few people who can handle that. Always being too much to handle, or uninterested as a defense mechanism. Perhaps that’s what scares admirers away.

That, or the fact that Luke Castellan is always attached to your hip. To be honest, you’ve always preferred it that way—the both of you working as a pair always gets things done faster around camp and he brightens your mood, whether you admit it or not.

But you two are just friends.

Really good friends who look for each other in crowded rooms, hands constantly brushing against the other for comfort, and able to pick up where the other one leaves off. Usually he’s the first person you see in the morning, and the last person you say goodnight to. You know how he likes his coffee and he cuts your apples for you as you two sit together in your unassigned seats in the dining pavilion. You watch each other’s workshops and if one of you is missing, everyone knows to ask the other to get an answer.

Right? That’s totally normal coworker/friend behavior.

If you were ever given immortality, perhaps they’d make you the goddess of denial.

You’re sweeping up confetti from the dining hall floor after an uncoordinated excuse of a flash mob was performed for one of the Demeter kids…and not to sound like a heinous bitch, but maybe next time they should use something biodegradable…or less messy. Sighing deeply, you feel someone’s eyes on you, and when you look up, Luke’s standing there with two full plates of food.

“Take a break, trouble. No one’s paying you overtime,” he jokes, and you roll your eyes as you put the broom aside.

“No one’s paying me at all…” you groan, before taking the plate out of his hands and knocking your head against his shoulder in thanks. He snickers as his hand brushes the small of your back, tickling your spine as he leads you to sit at a table.

“Just another holiday. You know how it is.”

“It’d be nice to have a night off though. Sometimes I regret taking up the position,” you mumble through spoonfuls of soup. He throws his large hand over your shoulder, kneading some tension from your trapezius. Head jerking along with the movements, you giggle as soup dribbles off your spoon, which makes his lips quirk into a small smile. Being around you felt so thoughtless and easy that if you told him to jump off a bridge he’d do it without question, which should be more concerning—the hold you have on him is irrevocable. Feelings are way too difficult for his teenage brain to comprehend at this stage. It’s easier to wash dishes with lava or fight off a dragon (bad example, he knows, but there’s something about you that already makes him feel like he’s losing before anything’s even happened).

Luke is someone who fights until the end, a soldier who’s always trained and so ready that sometimes it makes you wonder what war he’s preparing for. Infatuation, or the scarier, four-letter word was not something he was ever briefed on.

“No, you don’t. You’re a control freak,” he says with a grin.

Luke watches you play with the pendant on your necklace, the dragon scale he fashioned into your favorite accessory glinting in your hand. Running your fingers back and forth over the smooth surface, your other hand puts the spoon down and you place your head on his shoulder. He thinks if he had to describe the four-letter word on the tip of his tongue, he’d tell whoever’s asking about the way you kissed his healing cheek after you both left the Garden of Hesperides. More than a year later, Luke is still unable to find the right words even if the weakness has made a home in his heart with your name written all over it.

“I swear if I have to hear another person croak out a lovesong I might just drown myself in the Long Island Sound,” you scoff as his fingers trace circles onto your waist.

There’s a low strum of a guitar that reaches your ears and your forehead meets the cool surface of the table as you shut your eyes and grumble. It’s Lee and his half-siblings, beginning to walk through the hall seconds away from singing until they see Luke shaking his head and dragging his finger across his throat to please, gods, stop. The Apollo kids swivel and 180, walking out of the hall as the music stops dissonantly, rolling their eyes and dragging their feet.

“That was quick,” you say inquisitively as your head pops up from the table to see Luke looking off in the distance.

“Heh…I think they were just practicing or something…”

He then had to run off and pay them more drachmas for the inconvenience.

Fucking hustlers.

—

The sun sets quickly on Camp Half-Blood since it’s mid-February, and Luke finds you trying to calm your nerves as you look at the mess of glitter and paper mache that covers the arts and crafts hall from floor to ceiling.

“I can’t believe this!” you say in disbelief as you look at Luke, and he takes the can of Redbull out of your shaking hand.

“There’s just no fucking way everyone decided to use glitter. It’s everywhere! I’m—CONNOR, PUT THE SCISSORS DOWN!”

Luke sighs as he holds his hand out for his younger brother to give up the craft scissors, which he relinquishes with a mischievous grin.

“Guys, go find trouble somewhere else,” Luke mutters, pushing his head away, and where Connor goes, Travis quickly follows, tossing a canister of glitter back at him and not knowing it was still open.

“Oops.”

Immediately, the both of you are showered in iridescent particles, floating over your heads and stuck in your hair as the older Stoll brother looks at the two of you wide-eyed.

“You've already got trouble anyway,” he says teasingly, and this asshole winks at Luke before bolting out the door.

The room is silent now, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, before speaking, “I don’t care if he’s your brother, Luke. I might just fucking kill him.” You'd say more but your eyes are shut as you try not to breathe in glitter, and then the sound of the doorknob rattling catches your attention. Luke is standing there, finally faced with a door he can’t open, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance–but the effect isn’t as menacing as it should be when he’s covered in red and pink sparkles.

“Not if I get to him first, the little bastard.”

“Just open the door,” you say panicked, running over and forcing his hands off the doorknob.

“I can’t if you won’t let me do it!” He grits, elbowing you and trying to unlock the door with both his inherited gift and brute strength.

“What kind of demigod even are you? Lockpicking is supposed to be your thing!”

“Well OBVIOUSLY, but it’s not working, now is it, trouble?”

Luke finishes off the rest of your energy drink before throwing the can over his shoulder and he swears he can hear you cuss at him under your breath as you berate him about the mess, so he chooses to focus on busting the door down instead of looking at the glitter stuck in your eyelashes and thinking about how the idea of being stuck in a room with you makes him feel weak at the knees. Through the window, his eyes meet the group of Apollo kids staring at the predicament you two are in (and the barricade of chairs the Stoll brothers put in front of the door). He sighs, and Lee’s little sister flips him off as they start to walk away again, instruments in tow.

“You gonna charge him again?”

A tiny Will Solace looks at his elders for guidance as they walk along the path. As one of the youngest in the bunch, he especially idolizes anything his half-siblings do, going along with whatever they see fit.

“No, but we’re close enough to the archery range that I might just shoot them through their hearts myself. Eros and Aphrodite themselves are pretty much begging us to,” Lee grumbles.

“Why are we doing this again?” Will babbles, and his half-sister grabs his hand to help him walk faster.

“A crazy little thing called love. You’ll understand it better someday, kid.”

—

Thankfully, it all starts winding down after dinner. Luke finds you leaning against a tree flipping through your clipboard during the camp sing-along, so he tugs at your elbow to get your attention.

“Wanna get out of here?”

You look at him, slotting your pen behind your ear as you notice faint glitter particles still dotted along his cheeks. As your lips pull into a small smile, you say, "I still have a few things to do after this, don't you?"

"Cleared your schedule for the night," he mumbles, and whether it's the glow of the bonfire or he's actually blushing, a teasing expression crosses your face as you step closer and cross your arms at him.

"You cleared my schedule for the night. How on earth did you do that?"

Instead of a proper reply, he grabs your hand, tugging you out to the docks near the lake.

"Don't worry about it."

He's not going to tell you that he owes Chris and Annie a few favors before the end of the month to make up for the night shift they ended up taking. Instead, you both sit cross-legged at the edge of the dock, a gentle breeze brushing at your clothes and for the first time today, you're able to just exist.

"I hate Valentine's Day," you suddenly say, looking up at the night sky, and he's watching you closely as the gentle shine of the moon casts a cool glow on your face. Luke cringes at your statement, thinking he's already thrown away his shot.

"Why's that?"

"Tell me something Luke, am I unlikable? Like, is there anything wrong with me?"

He looks at you like you've told him you’re secretly a cyclops.

“The fuck? How many times do I have to tell you that everyone thinks you’re great?"

You don't even give him a chance to finish his sentence before you blurt, "I don’t want to be great, I want to be loved!" Reeling back a little, you lean back on your hands to create some distance.

“Sorry... that was a lot, and I’m just...wanting to be noticed. It's nice to have people's attention sometimes, you know?”

You’ve got all of mine, he thinks, realizing he never stood a chance at fighting it—this four-letter feeling you give him is the first and only battle he’ll back down from, and you're the only person he’ll wholeheartedly surrender to.

In short, he’s fucked.

"I always notice you." He pulls out a dented box of chocolates from his jacket pocket, opening it up for the both of you to share, and the look of amusement on your face makes him glad that at least one thing somewhat went to plan today, even if the chocolate truffles are a bit smushed. You’re popping one into your mouth and his dark eyes follow the trail of your fingers to your mouth, feeling his heart beat a bit faster.

But then you both hear the soft strum of a guitar from near the trees, and the two of you turn to hear some of the Apollo kids singing beautifully along the coastline.

I'll be seeing you, in all the old, familiar places...That this heart of mine embraces...

You gasp, grabbing Luke’s arm to push yourself up so that the both of you can turn and face a small group of your closest Apollo friends singing to the both of you. Luke’s eyes soften further when he feels you grab his hand and squeeze, leaning against his shoulder as you listen.

“Did you do this?” you mumble, still entranced by the performance.

“Only if it makes you laugh.”

And you do, in the way that he loves—a bit crazy and too loud, and it’s perfect.

I’ll always think of you that way…I’ll find you in the morning sun….

Whether it’s fireflies or Will bouncing light off the water to look like small, glowing candles, Luke can’t tell—he’s too busy watching your lips pull into a smile so confectionery his sweet tooth starts to ache. The little kid was never good at archery like his other half-siblings, but as your eyes shimmer under the ambient lights, you think his added romantic gesture shot you straight through the heart.

“You know, sometimes I really do hate you, Luke Castellan,” you whisper, and it couldn’t be more far from the truth.

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes flicker to you again, but you’re already looking back at him.

“I don’t.”

And when the night is new, I’ll be looking at the moon…but I’ll be seeing you…

It’s quiet now, and you’re unsure of where the Apollonian ensemble disappeared to but instead of worrying about if they’ll make it back before curfew, you stand there in front of Luke with your guard down.

Getting a little closer than he expected, your noses brush before you pull the slightly crushed wildflowers from your jean pocket, the only physical reminder you’ve kept from today, and tuck them into his jacket pocket, sitting right above his heart.

“Thank you.”

Luke doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he feels your lips gently kiss the marred skin on his right cheek, the blemish having an uncanny resemblance to a stroke of lightning; it serves as a reminder of his weakness. The lines blur as his eyes close to savor it and he doesn’t know if weakness is your kisses or his scar—but he is vulnerable to it all the same, realizing there’s a crack in the otherwise perfect persona that he’s worked so hard on. When his eyes open again, his Achilles’ heel has taken human form.

—

“This has got to be cheating,” Clarisse grumbles as she watches from the distance, hidden behind the trees.

“It’s not cheating if I’m winning. Silena’s gonna get a kick out of this,” Lee chuckles, ushering everyone back towards the cabins. It’s a bit harder to do this in the dark as they try to be quiet and not interrupt whatever will happen next between their favorite counselors.

“Well lucky for you, your gifts are cute and romantic, what am I supposed to do? They fight enough!”

“That’s what got them into this mess in the first place. Come on, curfew’s in 10. We’ll find out which of us wins the bet soon enough,” Chris mutters, pushing them along back onto the main path.

“Easy for you to say, Rodriguez, you live with Luke!”

“Would I ever lie to you, La Rue?” he says with a mischievous grin, and the Apollo kids giggle at the irony.

—

“My body ages,

my anger burns into a seam.

I am so annoyed by love

and still it comes.”

-Kate Baer

ask to be added to luke/general taglists!

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan fluff #made by ma1dita ♥︎#trouble!verse #thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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hyunfilms · 6 months

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blue side of the sky (lmh) | thirteen.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.8k

—chapter content/warnings: day with the boys!!, soccer games and new friends, oc tapping back into her drawing, small affectionate kisses, other small gestures of affection, a bbq at the house with some karaoke lol, alcohol consumption/intoxication (not oc), protected sex, clit play/fingering, neck kisses, very soft and tender moments between oc x minho

"Where's the cooler?" You ask Jisung as you neatly stack the blankets and bags of food into Chan's trunk.

"What cooler?" You cock a brow up and place a hand on your hip.

"You mean to tell me we were going to the park without any water or other drinks?" At this point, Minho and Chan are walking out of the house rolling a cooler and holding another tray of food.

"That's why you can't ask him to do anything." Minho chimes in.

"I remembered! I just.. was gonna do it last so the ice wouldn't melt, you know?" Chan laughs loudly.

"Mm, yeah sure." Chan responds after setting the cooler into the trunk, shutting it close and letting out a content sigh. "Are we ready? Where's Seungmin?"

"Seungmin is here." Seungmin walks out of the house and locks the front door before raising his camera. "Almost forgot this badboy." He runs straight to the passenger side. "Shotgun!" He laughs and slips himself into the seat.

"I'll sit in the middle." You shrug, sliding in so that the two boys can have their space at the end seats. Once everyone is buckled in and ready to go, Chan drives off to a park roughly 30 minutes away. You shut your eyes during the ride, leaning onto Minho's shoulder to offset the slight motion sickness you still experience. Your friends decided it was perfect weather to hang out, get some air and play some games before heading back home in time for dinner. A few of Chan's mutual friends and Seungmin and Jisung's close coworkers were also heading to the park, making it a nice get-together that wouldn't be too chaotic [hopefully].

Chan pulls up to a spot along the curb right in front of the large grassy field, surrounded by large trees that provided sufficient shade. Chan, Seungmin and Jisung's friends were already setting up at the center of the field, running over to greet your group. They all take their turns introducing you before you take your blanket and lay it under one of the trees. Chan sets the food and the cooler next to you, making it easily accessible for the group.

"Do you need anything? Water?" Chan says, digging through the cooler to make sure the ice is still covering the drinks properly.

"Please." You give him a toothless smile as he hands you a cold bottle.

"Medicine?"

"Took it this morning at the house."

"Food?" He points to the insulated bag that holds some gimbap that his mom made.

"Maybe in a bit." You giggle.

"Okay. Holler if you need us, yeah?" He calls out just as he's beginning to run over to his friends. The group starts acting chaotically, even as they work through dividing teams and back-ups. You giggle to yourself when Jisung gets way too carried away, acting incredibly sure of himself that he was going to carry his team to victory. Minho puts himself as backup for now, racing over to you on the blanket as the teams begin their first game of soccer.

"Fuck, finally." He says as he plops down right next to you, already exhausted by the commotion.

"Too much going on, hm?"

"Yeah, and Jisung's all hyped and loud." You laugh and continue to sketch the field in front of you.

"Be nice."

"I am nice. Always." He smirks at you, playfully pinching your side.

"Hey!" You giggle, trying to smack his hand away from another attack. He laughs as he re-focuses on the group's game ahead, cheering for his team in between claps and yelling for them to pick up the pace. When Minho looks over at you, he smiles to himself when he catches how focused you are. You hold the pencil delicately, but your lips are formed into a pout while your brows are tightly knit. He glances at the sketch, watching the way the tip of your pencil glides over the page so flawlessly.

You had always been talented, there was no doubt about that. Before Minho fucked this all up, he used to hang up your paintings and random sketches all around his room. Even kept a napkin sketch of Link Kirby in his wallet just because he liked it so damn much and thought you were the cutest in the world— why on earth were you scribbling Link Kirby during the high school graduation party?

Even now, Minho thinks you're the cutest in the world. He doesn't wanna break the silence, but he can't help himself when he—

"Y/N." You look up from your sketchbook, glancing over to Minho on your left. He gives off a tiny, breathy laugh before smiling toothlessly at you.

"Yes?" He shakes his head. He just likes to look at you because sometimes, it's hard for him to process that this is real. That you're real, that you're here. The light bounces off your skin so flawlessly and suddenly, he's filled with overwhelming emotion—

Maybe he's gotten another chance to love you, to love you right. And if that's so, he'll never take this for granted.

"Nothing." His hand comes up to cup your cheek and you feel his thumb caress the surface. You lean into it for a bit and smile softly at him before quietly returning your attention to the sketch.

Love.

You are what Minho loves the most.

"Yo! Get your ass in there, I'm tapping out." Jisung huffs and puffs with his hands on his hips, approaching you two on the blanket. "You can do all that lovey-dovey stuff later." He tries to shoo Minho away.

"Tapping out? You didn't do anything except fall on your ass the entire time." Jisung mocks him and makes a face before firing back with:

"I was falling on my ass because I was being a good guard."

"Yeah, whatever." Minho says, jogging towards the field.

"I'm just gonna lay here, cielo. Don't mind me." Jisung says, laying back on the blanket and closing his eyes. "If they ask for me, tell them I am off the clock."

"Of course, pachi. Whatever works for you." You chuckle to yourself as you start shading. You're convinced Jisung is fake-napping because he's awfully quiet during the time he's next to you.

Doesn't stop everyone from calling him out and telling him to pick up the slack.

You're alone for the next half, but you get lots done with your sketches despite the yelling and chaos going on on the field. You've drawn the field, the small pond across the street. A lady walking her golden retriever. Minho and Seungmin standing off to the side as they wait. You've eaten one of the sandwiches Seungmin made, giving a piece to Minho when he runs over and steals a bite.

It's good times, good vibes.

You wanted nothing more than to have time for yourself, time to tap back into your creative spark.

Back at the house, Jisung and Minho make way for you to shower first while they get the grill going in the backyard. Seungmin has his own bathroom in his room downstairs, and he offers to switch off with Chan once he's finished. You take a quick shower, throwing on some comfy cotton shorts and a shirt before heading down the steps to the living room and kitchen area. This gives way for Jisung and Minho to shower and switch off before running back down to help in the kitchen. Once things have settled a bit more, they have music going, the boys already a few shots in while sipping on beers. Minho is preparing some side dishes in the kitchen, while Jisung and Seungmin accompany Chan at the grill.

"Hey." You gently tap his side, making him look over his shoulder. "Do you need help?" He chuckles and shakes his head.

"No. They might though." He nods over at the boys outside.

"Do you need me to take anything outside before I go?"

"Mm, maybe just the water?"

"Okay." You smile up at him as you grab the water pitcher near him.

"Thank you." He says, giving you a quick kiss on the head before you turn on your heel and meet your friends outside. You set the water down near the fire pit and outdoor sectional before asking Chan if he needs anything at the grill. He shakes his head and urges you to sit and enjoy the fire pit, the sun slowly setting beneath the horizon.

So, you do.

You watch your friends enjoy themselves to the music, laughing and singing along from where you're at. You feel at ease, you feel alive. Everything is perfect tonight.

Sooner or later, Jisung plops onto the sectional with you, sipping on his beer before kicking his feet up.

"You doing okay?" He asks, leaning his head back against the couch.

"I am. Are you?"

"Kinda drunk already." He burps. "Shit."

"Kinda?" You chuckle.

"Mhm." He nods. "Were you able to draw a lot today?"

"Mm, I drew enough. It was nice."

"Good, cielo. Glad to hear." He taps your leg before letting out a breath, watching as Minho brings the side dishes out and joins Chan at the grill. Every now and then, he glances over at you two, giving you a tiny, toothless smile before returning his attention back to Chan.

"Pachi?"

"Yes?"

"Did Minho and I really go through a lot?" You prop your leg up on the sectional and place your elbow on the edge, cheek resting on the palm of your hand. He looks at you for a moment before shrugging.

"Yeah, as with anybody else. Probably the best way to explain it." He doesn't really dive into it much, and his answers are obviously vague. You're not sure if he's just letting Minho take the reigns on this, or if he says it that way because the history truly isn't that bad. Jisung looks at you with a tiny pout before following up with— "But, things are better now. Right? You two have gotten cozy." You chuckle and kick his leg.

"Don't say it like that."

"It's true, though. You two have always had love for each other." He grabs his glass and swirls his beer around for a second. "You're happy?"

"Of course I am."

"No, but. I mean with Minho." He finally looks at you with doe-eyes, partially filled with relief, the other.. [perhaps] worry?

"Oh, yeah." You shrug. "I don't have a reason to not be." Jisung looks back down at his glass before saying anything, and you're not sure what it means.

"Mm, that's good to hear." He meets your eyes with a faint smile at the corner of his lips. "All I want is for you to be happy." And Jisung says it sincerely; he means this with all his heart, even if he might've gotten too protective and tried to shield you from parts of the past. He sees you happy and comfortable with Minho, and vice versa. Even though he was mad at Minho for trying again, he was also Jisung's bestfriend and he knew he was trying. It's all he wanted after the disconnect in the beginning. He's come to understand that maybe, you'll just always have that pull to him, and there was no way Jisung would stop that. He is just afraid, and he hopes Minho has truly learned from his mistakes.

He traces the top of his glass with his finger while he listens to you playfully bicker with Seungmin now. His thoughts are bombarding him while he's drunk and he kinda hates it.

Jisung just wants you happy.

But, raw, true, genuine happiness.

That's where he messed up as your bestfriend. Because you may be happy, but he knows they've shaped it this way— they've shaped it this way so you know nothing but happiness, though there are so many things that could shift it all.

He molded your happiness. You didn't get a chance to shape that yourself, and this— this is where he feels awful.

"Food's ready." Minho calls out, making you, Jisung and Seungmin grab plates before walking towards the food. Chan gives you a good serving on your plate with a bit of everything, laughing when he sees you do a little happy dance back in your seat.

The rest of the evening is pleasant, with the boys continuing to drink after eating, moving the party inside to sing their hearts out on karaoke. Minho sits next to you the entire night, occasionally throwing his arm around you, playfully holding your hand and making sure you are comfortable. You sing along with Seungmin and Jisung from time to time, giving all the high notes to the boys to hit.

You were having a good time, and it was fun to be with your friends under one roof again.

When it hits close to midnight, you gather the trash and start to clean up around the house when you notice the liveliness dying down. Seungmin is still singing softly through the mic, while Jisung and Chan are dozing off after getting incredibly drunk.

"You didn't have to do that." Minho drags himself into the kitchen, watching you wash the last of the dishes with a huge trash bag next to you.

"It's okay. It wasn't much anyway." You chuckle as you set aside the last dish on the drying rack and shake off your hands. "Could you do me a small, teensy weensy favor?" He crosses his arms and leans against the counter.

"Depends. What's in it for me?" You laugh and playfully push him.

"Please take out the trash."

"Hm, but you don't think I'm serious, huh?" He playfully smirks. "What's in it for me?" He steps closer and challenges you.

"Minho." You whine. "Please?" He puckers his lips. He's feeling a little bold tonight because of the alcohol, but he also can't say that he hasn't been yearning to do this— sober or not. And he doesn't let up. But, you find it cute how he's being persistent.

One kiss wouldn't hurt, no?

So, you tiptoe and give the guy his little kiss. He immediately blushes, ears turning red in color before he clears his throat and grabs for the trash bag.

"Will that do it?"

"Maybe. But, since you're so cute, I'll take this out anyway." You roll your eyes just as he walks out to the back and heads for the garbage bin. Seungmin is starting to simmer on the mic once Minho comes back in and washes his hands. He turns off the machine and heads to his room, giving you a big bear hug and bidding his goodnights. He says he can't wait to sleep and he hopes you'll be able to sleep well in Jisung's bed since he's knocked out on the couch.

"Do you need anything before you go to bed?"

"No. I'm just going to wash up and change. I'll probably fall asleep as soon as I get to Jisung's bed." You tell Minho. He nods, giving you a quick hug and another kiss on the head before sending you off with a 'goodnight.' You quickly wash up and get ready for bed, changing into a crewneck and matching sweats to sleep in. Stepping out into the hallway, you see Minho's door cracked open with his tv illuminating parts of his room. You let out a breath before officially parting ways— walking into Jisung's room that is clean and tidy [for once]. You open his window a bit before drawing the covers back, slipping into his bed and sending your uncle a goodnight message.

Too bad you aren't sleepy as expected. Your body feels exhausted, but your mind is awake. You toss and turn a few times, grabbing at your phone to watch a few random vlogs to try and make yourself sleepy.

But, an hour passes— close to two— and you're still not sleepy. Though, you do find yourself needing to use the bathroom again.

The house is quiet.

Somewhat.

Jisung and Chan are still passed out in the living room, with snores bouncing off the walls and echoing throughout their entire house; Seungmin is sleeping soundly in his room, probably letting his music continue to lull him into a deep sleep.

As you quietly pad down the hallway and into the bathroom, you notice Minho's door still slightly ajar— lights from his TV reflecting off of the floor. You quickly relieve yourself in the bathroom and freshen up a bit, debating on whether or not you should bother Minho at this time of night.

What else do you have to lose? Sleep wasn't finding you, and apparently, it wasn't finding Minho either.

You give three soft knocks on his door before Minho lets out a small 'yeah?' on the other side— giving you the green light to poke your head through the crack and ask:

"Playing a game and watching tv?" You giggle as you glance between his computer screen and TV.

"I was, in between." He chuckles as you awkwardly stand off to the side and softly shut his door. "What're you doing awake?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't sleep and I saw the TV lights as I was going through the bathroom. I could go if you're gonna sleep?"

"No, it's okay." He pats his bed. "Sit and get comfortable. I just wasn't expecting you to be on the other side of the door, but I'm very glad it is you and not them bothering me." You chuckle.

"If you say so." You sit criss-crossed on his bed, letting your crewneck sleeves slip over your hands. Minho has Into the Spiderverse playing on his TV, his computer already shutting down and going into sleep mode. "Did you put this on?" You point at the screen.

"Mhm, it's the one movie series I don't mind re-watching."

"Nice." You focus on the movie for a bit, trying to pick up the pieces as to where the story was headed.

"Did you have fun today?" You glance at Minho before returning your attention to the tv.

"Yeah, I did. It was nice to draw and relax outside. Did you? It seemed like you guys had a blast playing."

"Mhm, sure did." Minho plops onto his bed and rests against his headboard, his arm lazily settling behind you with his hand on the bed. "I can change it, if you want?"

"No, you can keep it on." You give him a tiny smile before wiggling a little closer into his arm. "Minho?"

"Hm?" He hums when you turn back to look at him. You adjust your position on the bed, and Minho is able to rest his hand comfortably on the small of your back with the way you're angled.

"Did you need to tell me something earlier? At the park?"

"Mm." He squints his eyes and furrows his brows. He knows the answer is 'yes,' but his instant response happens to be— "No. I just.. like looking at you." Your eyes soften at his sudden [and unexpected] response. "Helps me remember you're real." You look at him, stare at him, for a good while, trying to read his body language and expression.

He is unreadable.

But, the one thing you do know is that you feel something for Minho. Almost like love, something that runs deeper.

"What do you feel when you look at me?" You ask softly, hand grabbing at his arm so that you can trace the faint lines on his palm.

"What do I feel when I look at you?" Minho repeats before swallowing the lump in his throat because he knows he should probably be honest— but he's conflicted on how deep he's willing to go.

Because he feels a lot when he sees you. He just doesn't wanna scare you or overwhelm you.

"Mhm." You look at him and he nods.

"Alot— I," He pauses, trying to figure out how he should put this. He didn't think he'd have to touch up on this now, but it's here and he's struggling. Moreso afraid than anything. He feels a whirlwind of emotions, but he'll focus on the positive because they outweigh everything else. How does he explain that he has always loved you, and doesn't think that has ever changed? Despite his period of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness. "I feel.. warmth? I feel attached. Adoration. Appreciation." He pauses again before looking you in the eyes. "Love."

"Love?" You face him a little more. "You feel love when you see me?"

"I do." He licks his lips before sitting up to feel closer to you. "It's always been that way." Your eyes widen a bit, but he can tell you're starting to shy away from all the things he's been saying. He means it though, he really does. You watch as he raises his hand to gently brush the hair out of your face and tuck it back behind an ear. His hand falls to your cheek, thumb caressing the surface before he lets out a small sigh. "You taught me all about it."

"I did?" You respond close to a whisper, now watching Minho's eyes drift from yours, down to your nose— to your lips. No other question comes to mind, being that you're drawn into this sudden force of attraction that's pulling you two closer, and closer, together.

And Minho knows; god, he fucking knows this is terrible. But, he's so caught up in this moment, in you. There is the devil on his shoulder, the majority of him that is screaming to keep going. Because he wants to love you so badly, to take this chance and do you right this time around. No distractions, nothing to stop him. He loves you, he has always loved you— despite his stupidity.

Then, there is the angel on the other; a small part of him that is screaming to stop what he's feeling so that he can just be honest and be upfront about the past, give you what you deserve to work off of even though he wants to start 'fresh.'

You're like a planet, all definitions astronomical. You deserve the world, and then some.

"You did." He says lowly. "Always." He pauses, lips inches away from yours.

"I hope that never changes." Though, you are his bestfriend before anything, before whatever the past holds, before whatever this history has written you two to be; Minho was also like love to you, and you didn't think there was any other word to describe it.

"I could never look at you differently, Y/N. No matter what." You cup his cheeks and make him meet your eyes once again. It falls silent for a moment, a comfortable silence.

You should've seen it coming.

You can't really remember how quick it happened, or who made the move first, but you do remember feeling fireworks.

Butterflies.

A bolt of electricity down your body—

Minho's lips are on yours. For a second, you inch back in surprise. You can see Minho starting to regret his decision and you don't want him to get to that point.

Because you don't regret that, and you probably won't regret what happens next.

You chase after his lips for another sweet kiss that he gladly takes. He lingers there for awhile before adjusting, allowing him to have more room to kiss you like he's been meaning to, like he's been yearning just as long as you have.

It feels so brand new, yet so familiar at the same time.

So natural.

He tries not to break the kisses for too long, even as he gently lays you back against his pillows and adjusts the covers— hovering over you and keeping his body close to yours. He continues because he feels your need behind your lips, the way you hungrily chase after him to close any distance. Almost like you can't be away for a second, like you'd lose him at the tip of your fingers.

Just like he's felt with you.

You do briefly pull away for a breather, your lips swollen and so majestic to look at while Minho continues to eye the rest of your features. He plants a kiss on your scars before taking his lips down to your neck, gently sucking at the surface before soothing it with his lips again. The need, want, for him continues to build when you feel him against you— every movement tickling your core and making you crave for his touch, for him.

"Y/N." He calls for you in between kisses, moving near your ear as his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your sweats. "Is this okay? Just tell me if you want me to stop and I'll stop."

"Keep going." He meets your gaze as you give him a shy, reassuring nod. He gives you another peck on the lips, hand now tugging your sweats down— tossed off to the side of the bed. At this point, you expect yourself to be nervous. You should feel nervous. But, you don't. Not an ounce of it. And it's probably because of the way Minho delicately touches you, kisses you, holds you.

You let out a small gasp against him when you feel his thumb pressed against your sensitive, clothed nub. He works in slow, circular motions, adding onto the pressure bubbling in your core. Satisfied with your reaction to his touch, he gives your thigh a squeeze before tugging your panties down. Minho's buried at the crook of your neck with your hands tangled at the ends of his hair, fingers now working their way into you at a slow, steady space.

"Minho. Need you." He hears before you let out a tiny whimper, body aching to feel more of him. He presses a kiss to your neck before adjusting to grab a condom at his nightstand. He's made sure he's tested and clean [mainly for his own sake], but tonight this feels different— he feels the need to take care of you, to be gentle, to be delicate.

To love on you properly.

This is where the universe has brought you two; this moment in time.

He fiddles with the condom for a bit before he's back to looking at you with the most adoration in his eyes. Soft, but so many feelings screaming to be let out.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks, and you simply reply with a nod. He lets out a shaky breath, lips grazing against yours just as you feel him slowly enter. There's a slight burn at the contact but nothing unbearable, nothing that settles for too long, until he bottoms out and tries to get used to the feeling. His eyes are locked onto yours as he adjusts to find a steady rhythm, listening to your soft moans and whines just as he's slightly picking up the pace.

You look so beautiful underneath him.

So right, so perfect.

"You're so pretty. So perfect for me." You hear him mutter against your ear, hands tugging at his hair as you find the courage to move with him and match his movements. He's wrapped up into you just as you with him, so wrapped up that he continues to praise you with sweet nothings; peppering your lips, face, neck with feathery kisses the hold so much behind them. His thumb finds his way back down to your clit, massaging tenderly until he feels you wiggling in his grasp. You feel the heat rising to your cheeks when you feel how quick you'll reach your high, but everything about this feels too good; feels too right.

"Minho— I'm gonna—" You pant out, chest heaving up and down as he's thrusting deeply and hitting all the right spots. You can't even form the rest of your sentence before you feel the immense wave of pleasure crashing over you. Minho watches your response, slipping out of his grasp when he feels your walls squeezing every bit of him. He gives it a good two, three more thrusts before he's unraveling; buried at the crook of your neck as he lets himself go into the condom.

"Are you okay?" He asks and meets your eyes once he's gathered himself. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, I'm okay." You reassure him, and he pecks you on the lips. He disposes of the condom and grabs a few tissues to help clean you up and get you comfortable in his bed. He lays beside you after shutting the tv and lights, arm draped across the pillow as you lay on it and press your back against him.

It falls into a quiet, comfortable silence again— one where you can listen to each other breathe, one where you can just feel and be in peace together.

Soothing.

"Hey." He says behind you, kissing the back of your head. You turn to face him, eyes slowly feeling heavy. "Are you comfortable?"

"Of course." You sleepily giggle. "I might fall asleep soon."

"Sleep."

"Goodnight?" He chuckles.

"Goodnight, princess." You snuggle against him some more and shut your eyes. It doesn't take long before Minho can tell that you've fallen asleep with the way your lips are slightly parted, breathing now at a soft, resting pace. Minho feels comfortable, feels safe.

Minho feels like love.

He doesn't fall asleep right away. Instead, he watches you sleep in his arms, kissing your forehead once more. He's trying to relish in the moment, but he's also wondering if this was the right way to go. Maybe he got wrapped up too into this and he should've waited.

Things happened so fast.

He needed to tell you.

You two have so much to talk about.

What does matter in this moment, is that he has always loved you and that has never changed. Despite his moment of stupidity, his lack of self-awareness.

Love.

"I love you." He whispers down to you before he finally feels like he can shut his eyes and try to get some sleep.

You, like a planet, all definitions astronomical; heavenly.

You, are love.

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siredtosturniolos · 2 months

Text

YOU

paring: chris sturniolo x reader

part 1 of ???

summary: your best friend madi set you up on a blind date with one of her closest friends. you go and have a decent time, but ultimately decide there’s no second date. chris doesn’t like that, and resorts to extreme measures to get YOU.

warnings: stalking, dumb!reader, mentions of drinking/going to a bar idk

authors note: guys i hope you guys like this as much as i do LMAO i just love joe goldberg (this is gonna be so long help) (also i love jake webber sm so he’s in this for a bit!) (everyone is a couple years older in this, the triplets are famous but it’s never brought up) (hopefully there’s not many mistakes i’ve read it too many times LMAO)

word count: 3,936

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

the last few weeks you can’t help but notice the unsettling sensation of always feeling like you have somebody’s eyes on you. walking around your house with the curtains open became such a hassle, always drawing them shut when chills would rake down your spine. you were constantly checking that your front door was locked, unable to shake the feeling of a presence that you don’t know about being with you.

you were getting more and more paranoid, traveling to and from work constantly having to look behind you, hearing things that aren’t there such as footsteps. slowly overtime you notice some of your belongings missing. such as your favorite lingerie set, your childhood blanket, and even t-shirts and shorts that you wouldn’t otherwise miss, until you were looking for them.

you finally confessed to madi what’s been happening, resulting in her and laura coming over. they helped you change your locks and make sure all of the windows on the ground floor of your two-story town house fully locked and weren’t able to open from the outside.

you were terrified to say the least.

you did your best to shake the feeling as you got ready for a date. you had met him at a bar just down the street, as you refused to let madi set you up with another friend after you had met chris. you had a good time with him, but he just seems slightly off in a way that you couldn’t place. it was like he knew you before he ever met you, and it kind of freaked you out.

at the time you just shrugged it off and assumed madi was hyping you up and telling him lots of things about you, but when you asked her about it a few days after the date, she said she hadn’t told him much other than your name and age.

chris kept texting and calling you, trying to make plans or inviting himself to your house, you decided to just block him. madi had reached out shortly after saying that chris was trying to get a hold of you. you had explained to her what was going on, feeling bad as you know madi would beat herself up over this.

madi was shocked and said that she would let chris know to leave you alone.

your heels clicked against the floor as you made your way around your apartment, doublechecking your back door was locked, you even put your trashcan in in front of it so if somebody did get in, it would be knocked over. you make your way out of your place once you feel everything is secure, locking and dead-bolting the door, you trudged down the steps.

before you know it you’re at the bar you met jake at, and quickly find your way to the bar, where the two of you agreed to meet.

you instantly spot his tall frame, grinning to yourself as you approach him. “jake.” you greet politely, sitting down on the stool next to him.

he greets you back enthusiastically, “you look great.” he smirks down at you, letting his eyes scan your body. you were wearing a black long sleeve dress, with black heels. you wanted to keep it basic as you were just meeting up in a bar to get to know each other over some drinks.

your cheeks flush, “thank you, you do too.” you shyly compliment him back. the two of you order your drinks, and begin chatting, finding that you both have lots of things in common.

at some point through the night, you found yourself scooting closer and closer to jake. your knees now pressing against one another. jake brought his hand down to your knee and began rubbing it. he leans towards you as the bartender took away your now empty glasses, a warm buzz setting over your body.

“do you want to get out of here?” he quietly asks you, tugging one of his snake bite piercings into his mouth.

you bite your lip in anticipation, “my place or yours?” you seductively ask, making jake spring to his feet and instantly help you off the stool you had been sitting on all night.

the two of you quickly make your way back to your place, as it was closer than jake’s, his hands wandering your body as you pull out your keys. you look up to your door and freeze. shock courses through your body at the sight, it had been slightly left open.

“oh shit,” jake mumbles, turning to look down at you, “forget to lock up before you left?” he asked questionably, shuffling to the side slightly so he could enter first.

“no, i swear i had it locked. i even remembered to deadbolt it.” you nervously reply, no idea as to what could be lurking inside your home. you definitely didn’t want to tell jake you more than likely have a stalker, considering this was your first date with him.

“i’ll go check it out.” jake offers. he pushes the door open slightly, making it creek eerily, sending goosebumps across your arms.

“are you crazy? i’m not staying out here by myself. i’ll go with you.” you insist, taking a step to follow him.

he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, “fine, but just stay behind me.” you nod in agreement, lightly trailing behind him up your stairs.

the two of you slowly make your way into your town house and you quickly flick on the lights. you both observe the floor plan for any signs of movement.

when you see there’s nobody down here, you and jake look at each other before looking up the stairs that were right by the front door.

jake makes a move towards the stairs and you stop him, “shouldn’t we take a weapon or something?” you ask incredulously, making him freeze in his spot. maybe this guy doesn’t have the best common sense, but at least he’s hot.

“yeah, we probably should.” jake replies, as he slowly and quietly makes his way towards your kitchen. you grab the baseball bat behind your front door, thanking the gods above that it’s still there. jake shuffles about in your kitchen for a moment before he comes back with a knife.

taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, you follow behind jake as he leads the way up the stairs. you had two bedrooms and a bathroom up there.

your hallway light was on, so you had the advantage of being able to slightly see into the rooms. jake quickly enters one room and flicks on the light, holding the knife out from his chest, twisting his head back-and-forth looking for any signs of life. once you both deem the room as clear, you move onto the bathroom located right next-door.

you’re shocked when the light turns on, the shower curtain is open, and all of your shower products scattered on the floor.

“that wasn’t like that when i left.” you mumbled to jake, chills shooting down your spine.

someone had definitely been in here.

the only place left to check was your bedroom, and you were terrified as the thought of someone being in there someone waiting for you. what if you didn’t bring jake home with you tonight?

jake makes his move quick, turning on the light and stepping into the room. you’re right behind him, frantically searching to see if anything was missing or out of place.

your eyes land on your bed and a gasp escapes your lips. there’s flowers all over your bed, and a black velvet box sitting on one of your pillows. jake checks under your bed and in your closet before lowering his weapon setting it on your dresser

“this is freaky.” jake comments, rounding the bed and grabbing the black box. you move to stand next to him as he peels the box open, revealing a beautiful necklace. it was a pink diamond heart, with a ring around it to make it look like a planet on a silver chain.

“that looks familiar.” you murmured to jake, racking your brain to figure out where you had seen something like that before.

before you could place it, your front door slammed shut making the two of you jump in fear. jake raced down the stairs to see a man running away from your apartment, dressed in all black with his hood up.

“what the fuck?” jake yelled, while opening the door and stepping outside. it was no use as the figure had turned the corner and was out of sight.

“should we call the cops?” you ask jake, trembling slightly as you realize that more than likely, that man been in your house while you were still still looking for him.

jake turns to face you, “go pack a bag and you can stay with me or I can take you somewhere safe. it’s up to you about the cops, but by the time they get here he’ll be long gone.”

you nod wordlessly, and make your way back upstairs quickly changing into a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. slipping on your white nike’s you pack your bag. immediately once you’re done, you start texting madi saying that you needed to stay over.

“tonight was fun.” you joke softly to jake, as he drives towards madi’s home.

jake looks over you briefly, grinning, “i did have a good time but that ending was not what i expected.” he replied you, making you nod in agreement.

jake pulled into madi’s driveway, madi instantly running to the car.

“are you okay? is everything okay?” she hurriedly asks, helping you open the door and taking your bag for you.

“if you somehow want a second date, you have my number.” you tell jake as you shut the door. you wave at him, offering him a smile before you and madi make it inside of her house.

you noticed there’s several pairs of shoes by her front door when you kick off your own, you looked at her questionably, to find her already looking at you apologetically.

“who’s here?” you ask as the two of you made your way towards her living room.

“i’m sorry i didn’t you would be coming over but the triplets are here.” madi replies, just as you both enter the living room to find nick, matt, and chris sitting on her couch.

all three of them to look at you and madi, and you can’t help but feel incredibly awkward. you glance towards the tv, to see a movie paused about half way through.

great, i just interrupted their movie night, you think to yourself.

“hey.” nick greets you casually offering you a smile. you grin back at him in acknowledgment before taking a seat next to madi on the loveseat. nick had always been chill, occasionally crashing sleepovers at madi’s house. you didn’t mind, he was pretty fun to be around.

you had only met matt a few times, not really able to give an opinion on the man. he seemed very closed off, like he wanted people to work if they wanted to get to know him. you admired that about him, as you tend to have word vomit and end up oversharing frequently.

“okay, what the hell happened?” madi demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

biting your lip softly, glancing to the triplets, who are still focused on you. they were madi’s closest friends, there’s no harm in them hearing the story too.

“i was taking my date back to my place and when we get there, my front door is open but we ended up not finding anyone. they messed with my shower, and they put flowers all over my bed and gave me a necklace.” you explained briefly, shortening the story. you left out the part of seeing a guy running away from your apartment, you’d wait to tell her that when you were alone.

“what the fuck.” madi comments, raising her eyebrows in shock.

“damn, you have a full on stalker.” matt commented, making your eyes shoot to his. he had an apologetic look on his face.

“yeah, this isn’t even the first time they have been in my house though.” you reply, leaning back into the cushion behind you.

“what?” nick gasped, turning to fully face you. you decide to overshare, telling them all of the times you had noticed someone entering your home without you knowing. even when you were there yourself.

chris was rather quiet, his eyes darting from you to madi, to his brothers. he was nervously fidgeting with the blanket on his lap, subtlety tucking his necklace underneath his shirt.

you suddenly decide to let madi and the triplets know the full story, “i know it was crazy. we were in my room when we heard my front door slam, but by the time we got down there, we could just see the person leaving.” you tell them, not missing how chris’ eyes grow in size, a worried expression etching onto his face.

“that’s actually so scary. what are you going to do?” madi asked, resting her hand on your arm attempting to comfort you.

you shrugged, “i think i’m gonna go to the police station and see if they’re any help in the morning. i just know that i can’t stay there tonight.”

“i’m so sorry you’re going through this.” chris suddenly speaks up. you meet his eyes, and he genuinely looks apologetic for you.

“nothing i can’t handle i suppose.” you offer him a small smile.

you zone out for the next hour, overthinking every possible scenario of what could’ve happened tonight. the movie everyone else was watching when you got here ended, making madi announce she was going to bed.

“you sure you’re good to sleep down here?” madi asked you, as you offered to stay on the loveseat since chris was getting the couch and matt was getting the spare room.

nick was going to sleep in madi’s room with her and you didn’t want to mess up their plans any more than you already had.

“yeah, i’ll be fine. i’ve done it before.” you assure her with a shrug, before she handed you the pillow and blanket she had went and gotten for you.

“okay,” she sighs, “you know where i’m at if you need me.” with that, she turned on her heel and made her way to her bedroom where nick was waiting for her.

“do you fall asleep with the tv on?” chris asked, making you turn towards him. he had the remote in his hand, slightly leaning upwards to look at you from a few feet away.

“i do you,” quietly reply, “but if you don’t, i can survive one night without it.”

chris immediately shakes his head, “i fall asleep with the tv on too don’t worry.” he offers you a smile before loading up a random movie you had never seen before.

the two of you sit in a comfortable silence, leaving you to your thoughts. you can’t help but think about the date you and chris shared a few months ago, was it as bad as you really thought it was or were you just overthinking?

being around chris tonight made you realize he might just have a strong personality. he’s been rather low-key tonight and that’s something you’re deeply attracted to.

“hey chris?” you quietly ask, unsure if he’s sleeping or not. you turn your head to the right to look at the couch just in time to see chris fully sit up to look at you.

“what’s up?” he asked, bringing his knees to his chest as he looks at you.

“i’m sorry for how things went between us.” you quietly apologize, doing your best to meet his eyes in the dark room.

he offers a small smile, “it’s okay, i think i just came on a little too strong because i was so excited to even have a chance with you.”

your cheeks flush at his confession, “how was your date with jake tonight?” he asked, making you frown as you realize you hadn’t thought of him once since arriving.

you pause, slowly turning to look back at chris, “how’d you know i went on a date with jake?” you ask, knowing you hadn’t brought up his name when retelling the story an hour ago.

chris freezes, “i think madi mentioned it when you texted her earlier.” he replies after a beat of silence, leaving you on edge but letting it go anyways.

“it was fine.” you finally speak, answering his first question, while shrugging your shoulders. “he’s not really boyfriend material.”

chris’s eyebrows raise at your reply, “so what was the point of going out with him?” he questions, a puzzled expression set on his face.

your cheeks burn, even hotter, “think about it, chris. what else is there to do when you don’t want to date someone?” you sheepishly reply as you watch the realization wash over his face.

“oh, so you wanted to fuck?” he asked a small smirk appearing on his lips. bashfully you nodded, surprised that you’re keeping yourself together with this conversation. chris bites his lip as he looks at you, and you can barely see his eyes glance down at your lips before he briefly closes them.

“if you ever want to give me another chance, i’m here.” chris comments before he lays back down so now his back is facing you.

your heartbeat jumps at his words, and his low tone of voice. your thighs clench together, your brain fighting over which dirty scenario to think about first.

you get lost in your thoughts, and before you know it you had fallen asleep. you wake up pretty early as you never sleep well when you’re not in your bed. you sit up after you see chris is still sound asleep, this time facing you. you can’t help but think how cute he looks while he’s asleep.

his head is resting on the pillow, and his arms are tightly wrapped underneath. his lips are slightly parted, and his hair flopped perfectly over his forehead. it was longer than when you went out with him, and you can’t help but like it more.

you catch yourself staring and you quickly look away before you shuffle your feet to go to the bathroom. you do your business, brushing your teeth and changing your clothes.

grabbing your bag and you set it by the front door, returning to the living room to leave madi a note.

going to the police station, i’ll call you when i get home. love you.

you quickly scribble that onto a napkin, leaving it at the center of the table before you make your exit of madi’s house and walk to the police station. it was only a 20 minute walk, and you can feel your blood pressure rise as you enter the building, instantly meeting eyes with a woman behind a desk.

“what can i do for you, hon?” she asked offering you a wide smile. your nerves slightly washed away at her friendly expression, as you leaned against the counter.

“i have to report a break-in from my possible stalker, that I know nothing about.” you inform her, watching the smile slip from her face. instantly she’s on her feet searching through folders before handing you a sheet of paper and a pen.

“fill this out for me and we will get to the bottom of this for you.” she offers a sad smile, sitting back down you walked to one of the waiting chairs, and instantly fill out the papers.

your address, your name, and any incident revolving any sort of suspicious activity. you fill it out faster than expected, as she was shocked to see you back on your feet in front of her.

she glances over the paper curiously, “okay, i’ll see if we have any officers able to do an inspection.” the woman speaks, taking the paper with her, you watched as she disappeared around the corner.

10 minutes later, you’re in the back of a cop car getting driven to your house. you were silent for the ride as the cop instructed you to stay in the car until he does a sweep through.

once he comes outside, you instantly step out of the car, “i took some photos, but there’s not much we can do at the moment, unfortunately. you’ll have to keep reporting any incident’s, preferably as soon as they occur, so there’s a higher chance of finding evidence or whoever is doing this to you.” he explains, making your heart drop.

there’s nothing they can do for you.

he has a little plastic baggie in his hand containing some of the flowers and the velvet box that held the necklace.

“thank you for taking the time to come out here.” you reply, as you make your way inside.

you text madi, letting her know what the cops said, as you sit on your couch in silence. you lean back against your couch as tears brim your waterline, feeling completely hopeless.

you were surprised when you suddenly woke up, not even realizing you had dozed off amidst your crying. you push the blanket that was resting on your chest off, feeling overheated, before you freeze.

you weren’t using a blanket before you fell asleep. chills ran down your spine as you quickly glanced around the room. your eyes settle on the kitchen table, a vase of flowers now sitting in the middle.

you cautiously get up, checking your surroundings as you slowly walk towards the flowers. there was a white envelope resting in the middle of the bouquet. your hand instantly grips your phone from your pocket, wanting to call the police but something stops you.

you don’t know how long ago he was in here, what’s the point in calling?

you carefully pick up the envelope, barely touching the edges as you don’t want your finger prints on it. you lift the flap, shaking it slightly for the folded up piece of paper to fall onto your table.

you take a deep breath before you unfold the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount of writing.

baby, don’t be scared. i’m just trying to show you how much i love you with the gifts. i was really disappointed when i saw the cop leaving with your necklace. did you not like it? you looked so pretty when you were sleeping, your tear strained cheeks and your pouty lips looked so kissable. i controlled myself, you’re going to be awake for our first kiss. you’ll be begging for it. now, the real reason i gave you these flowers. they’re a reminder for you, and anyone else, that you are MINE. i don’t want to see you with jake again. you wouldn’t want him to get hurt, would you baby? i’ll be seeing you soon my love.

your jaw is on the floor by the time you’re done reading it, instantly pulling out your phone to call jake. you’re searching for what seems like forever, not able to find his contact in your messages. you search jake, and are shocked to see no contacts come up.

goosebumps cover your arms as you realize, he had gotten on your phone and deleted jake’s contact. the only way you could get in touch with him. your breathing quickens, as you feel a rush of panic wash over you.

before you could move, a warm cloth is placed over your mouth, and a body pressed against your back. instantly you’re fighting to get away from them, but the arm that had slipped around your waist, tugging you into their body tightly, prevented you from getting away.

“shh baby, just relax.” a deep voice whispers in your ear, as you begin to feel light headed. your eyes slowly start to droop shut, despite your desperate attempt to keep them open. the man slowly removes the cloth from your nose, letting you suck in a deep breath before you fall limp.

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #jake webber #youtube #writers on tumblr

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years

Text

Two Scoops (and a Danish) // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? Yes!

WARNINGS: minor physical altercation with a customer, retail (lol), fear gas, mention of the Joker, brief reference to attempted self harm while under fear toxin, swearing Summary: Part two to this.

Despite it being four in the morning, you were already in the kitchen when the familiar sound of your window being opened came from the living room. Tossing the rag in your hands onto the counter, you planted your hands on your hips and gave the kitchen a once over.

“Any injuries?” you called.

“No,” Red Hood replied. You nodded to yourself and snatched two cartons of ice cream out of the freezer. Grabbing two spoons, you balanced the ice cream in your arms as you walked to the living room to find Red Hood sprawled out on your couch.

He had already changed into sweats and a comfy shirt, but he left his domino mask on. You could see his leather jacket and gear propped up next to the bookshelf in the corner of his room and you appreciated the fact that he didn’t want to dirty up your couch.

“Stop a few crimes? Knock a few heads together?” You passed him the carton of cookie dough ice cream and climbed onto the couch to sit across from him.

“Of course.” A cocky grin crossed his face and you rolled your eyes in response.

“What about you? Scooped some ice cream? Sell some cones?”

“I quit,” you announced. He raised an eyebrow at your declaration, the spoon halfway in his mouth.

“I start in three days at the coffee shop on the corner of Hyacinth and Lilac. Day shifts instead of night so no more robberies hopefully.”

“This is Gotham, sweetheart. You could get robbed in broad daylight.”

You grimaced and he immediately winced, nudging your calf with his foot. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s just…you won’t be there.” Your voice quieted at the end of your statement and he sat up straighter, placing his carton on the coffee table. Hood leaned forward, clasping his hand over your wrist and drawing your eyes to meet the white lenses of his mask.

“I ain’t gonna let anything happen to you, sweetheart. You hear me?” He spoke with such ferocity and conviction that you had to believe him. He stroked his thumb along your pulse and smirked.

“Besides, who said that I won’t be there?”

A week later and you were finally getting the hang of your new job. It was easier to remember orders, drink styles, and prices. You were even getting to know the daily customers. But you had yet to deal with the infamous hellions your coworkers had told you about.

Sure, you had dealt with your fair share of shitty customers at the ice cream shop, but there was something different about coffee shop Karens. It was as if the lack of caffeine made them ten times more rabid.

Which is why you found yourself practically cowering under the snarling, frothing words of the bodybuilder as he screamed at you because of soy milk or something like that. His face was turning a bright red that probably wasn’t healthy and spittle literally flew out of his gaping maw and landed on your cheek. You raised your hand to wipe away the offending liquid when he reached out and grabbed your wrist.

It was a far cry from the tender hold Red Hood placed on your skin. When Hood touched you, it was soft caresses and gentle presses of his calloused fingers against your knuckles, as if he pressed too hard you would shatter beneath him. This guy, however, was all brute strength and bruising grip. You tugged your hand back but it was a futile attempt. His muscles rivaled bowling balls in size and weight.

Tears sprang to your eyes at the sharp ache in your wrist as he clenched down tighter, but just as soon as the pressure started, it left your arm. A hand firmly gripped the back of his shirt and then he was yanked back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Another customer had the guy in a headlock and made it look easy. This new guy somehow rivaled the bodybuilding douche in the muscles department and height, but he also had skill. In a few swift moves, he had the guy up and out the door with some choice words and threats.

“You alright?” the guy asked once he returned to the counter. You pointed at the door and then back at him, mouth agape in shock. He raised an eyebrow at your silence and nodded towards your wrist.

“Can I?” He waited until you nodded before he unfurled your fingers and checked over your wrist, pressing down on tender spots and examining for bruises.

“I think I’m alright,” you chuckled weakly.

“If he ever comes in again, stab him,” the guy said, entirely serious. You swallowed against the sudden dryness in your throat and refocused your attention back on the register.

“What can I get for you?”

“Large americano,” he ordered.

“And your name?”

Under the brim of his baseball cap, he met your gaze with gleaming teal eyes. A grin crossed his full lips and you tore your gaze away from his handsome face to the cup and sharpie in your hands.

“Jason,” he answered. “Name’s Jason.”

Jason became a regular. He’d come in once a day, get an americano and sometimes a danish, and sit in the corner with a book. Rain or shine, he always parked his ass in one of your chairs and sipped at his god awful bitter coffee and read some novel.

There were two constants in your life: Hood coming through your window at all hours of the night and Jason showing up at work and both instances had you craving more. Both made you feel impossibly safe, incredibly comfortable, and both made you laugh more than you had in years. You hated it. You never wanted them to leave.

But when Jason came into the coffee shop on a rainy day with a black beanie firmly pulled over his head and a sparkle in his eyes, you felt your heart fall when you saw him holding the hand of a gorgeous woman. She was saying something to him when they walked in and he grinned, adding the twist to the pain in your heart.

“Hey,” Jason greeted when he stepped up to the counter. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going okay. The usual?”

“Yeah, yeah. And this is my little sister, Cass. Whatever she wants.”

You hated the fact that a little thrill shot through your chest at the confirmation that she was his sister. She smiled, soft and gentle, and ordered a vanilla latte. Jason paid and tucked a few dollars in the tip jar as usual and then he and Cass headed to his usual table while you focused on making their order.

When you brought their coffees over to their table, however, you found that they were joined by four other people. Jason looked murderous as a handsome man slung his arm over his shoulder and greeted you cheerfully.

“Hi, Dick Grayson. Jaybird’s been talking about how great the drinks were here so I figured I would stop by and what do ya know, my two favorite siblings are already here.”

“Considering Jason gets the same drink every time, I don’t know if he has the authority on our menu,” you joked. “Is this all your siblings?”

“Not all,” Jason sighed. “Dick, Damian, Tim, and Duke. Steph is probably off somewhere ruining lives for good reason.”

“Nope.” A blonde girl slid into the booth next to Cass. “I only ruin lives between the hours of nine and ten AM.”

Jason hauled himself out of the booth and pointed at the gaggle of siblings around the table. “Text me your orders. Or don’t. Perish, for all I care.”

“Awww, he’s buying our drinks!” Dick cooed.

“And poisoning it too!” Jason scowled at his brother but nothing would stop the wide grin on the older man’s face. Jason grunted and followed you back to the register, waiting until you were back in your rightful place behind the counter.

“I’m sorry for them. They’re…a lot. I know.”

“Nah, today was slow so it’s a nice change. Besides, this reminds me of the time Batman came into my old job.”

“Oh, no shit?”

“Oh yeah, all of the bats and birds. It was wild.”

“Wow, you’re practically a celebrity.” He held out his phone for you to read the note on the screen that listed out everyone’s coffee order

You snorted out a laugh at his comment and shook your head. You began to type in the different orders as you continued talking. “As if. If I were a celebrity, I wouldn’t do any work. Like Bruce Wayne.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I do actually work sometimes.”

You dropped the cup you were holding and looked up to find Bruce motherfuckin’ Wayne standing next to Jason with an amused smile playing on his famous features. Your eyes darted between Jason and Bruce motherfuckin’ Wayne as you tried to make sense of why Gotham’s most famous billionaire was standing in your shitty little minimum wage job. Your gaze drifted over to the pack of siblings arguing at the table in the corner and then you thought back to all the times you had heard about the Wayne kids, but you never cared enough to look up their pictures.

“Jaylad,” Bruce motherfuckin’ Wayne said in greeting.

“Dad,” Jason replied.

“Oh, what the fuck?” you exclaimed.

After working at the coffee shop for four months, you were finally given the opportunity to close. Your coworker, Macy, handled the more advanced things you hadn’t been trained on, leaving you to clean up around the store. It was only eight at night, but the two of you were eager to close and get home. There was an Arkham breakout four days ago and the city was on edge waiting for the inevitable attack. Both Jason and Hood hadn’t made their typical appearances since the breakout and you were starting to get worried.

But you couldn’t think about that right now because the toxin sirens started wailing the second Macy locked the doors behind you.

“Fuck!” she shouted. “You got a mask?”

“Of course.” You yanked the collapsable Wayne Enterprises gas mask out of your purse. It was given to every citizen who signed up for it at the local post office. She pulled out her own and shoved it over her face before waving goodbye and sprinting off towards her apartment.

You were glad that your apartment was a fifteen minute walk from your work instead of the thirty minute commute you had at the ice cream shop because it was moments like now that had you running faster than you had ever ran before. A yellow-tinged fog rose up from Gotham Heights and you swore. Fear toxin was barely better than Joker toxin, but it wouldn’t be instant death.

Gothamites all around you ran for safety, various styles of gas masks covering their faces. A dark shadow flew over your head and you glanced up for a moment to see Batman blot out the moon before he disappeared into the shadows with the bright traffic color lights of Robin on his heels. Good, this would all be over soon.

You stumbled as a small body crashed into your legs. Thinking quickly, you caught the kid around the shoulders and absorbed the hit by careening into the brick wall next to you.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” You crouched down so you could see the little girl better and grimaced when you realized she didn’t have a gas mask. The fog was coming closer and you thought about it for a moment. You were older. You could handle fear toxin better. It would be horrible and you would see things that weren’t real. It would feel like your mind was being torn apart…but you would be able to handle it better than an innocent little kid.

Without hesitating, you ripped off your mask and secured it over her face. She sobbed and clung to your neck as you hefted her up into your arms and scanned the frantic faces around you in hopes of finding parents. A woman across the street was searching for something and you made the guess that she was looking for her daughter.

“Ma’am!” you shouted as you crossed the street. “Is this your daughter?”

“Oh god, Maria. Thank you. Thank you so much. I was looking for a mask for her and she ran away because of the sirens.”

“You’re alright. Get to safety, okay?” She thanked you one last time and disappeared into the throng of the crowd, leaving you behind without a mask and a quickly approaching wall of fear toxin. If you sprinted the last remaining ten minutes, you still wouldn’t make it in time. The streets were clearing quickly, along with your chances of sanctuary, as the fog grew closer. You cursed yourself for not bringing two masks along and decided you should just take your chances and wade into the fear gas.

The gas was starting to creep around your feet when the sound of wire snapping and a creak of metal met your ears. Heavy boots thudded next to you and then thick leather covered hands grabbed your shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing out here? Without a mask too.” Hood snarled. “Are you stupid?”

“No! No, I gave it to a kid. I was trying to get home.” Your explanation fell flat as he yanked off his helmet and shoved it over your head. You jerked your head back in surprise as the darkness enveloped your vision, but you quickly adjusted to seeing out of the lenses.

“What the hell are you doing?” you shouted back. Your voice sounded weird being all distorted from the helmet. “Gotham needs you!”

“And I need you safe,” he snapped. The gas was obscuring his face from view and quickly, Hood wrapped one arm around your waist and aimed his other arm towards the sky. He fired his grapple gun and you shrieked as your feet lifted off the ground. Hood dropped the two of you on the fire escape of your apartment and stumbled away from you, falling to his knees.

“Fuck,” you whispered. You grabbed his arm and threw it over his shoulder, but hauling six feet of pure muscle wasn’t easy. You needed to get him inside and out of the gas. “C’mon, Hood, help me out here.”

He groaned and pushed himself up against the railing, but kept his eyes screwed shut. You shoved open your window and practically threw him in before sliding in after him and yanking the window closed just as yellow gas began its steady ascent against your building windows. You collapsed against the couch and looked over at Hood, but he wasn’t looking at you. The lenses of his domino mask were fixed on the corner of your living room and you swore under your breath.

He had given up his helmet, his gas mask, to you so you wouldn’t be affected. But now he was seeing the stuff of nightmares and, you could guess, he had seen far more in his life that kept him up at night. You yanked his helmet off and tossed it onto the ground.

“Hood, what do I do?” You grasped his cheeks and forced him to focus on you. “How can I help?”

“Make him stop…make him stop. fucking. laughing.” He clapped his gloved hands over his ears and you surged forward, clutching at his wrists as he clawed at his skin.

“Hood. Hood, please,” you whispered. You slid your hand between his ears and his fingers and felt a small device. Yanking it out of his ear, you fixed the communication device in your own ear and tapped on it. A steady stream of chatter filled your ear and you saw Hood relax when the noise left him. He was still rigid as a board, but he stopped trying to claw his own ears off.

“Hello? Hello, does this work?” You desperately hoped your hunch was right.

The line went silent and then a low, gravelly voice spoke up. “Who is this?”

“My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. Red Hood saved me but he was hit with fear toxin. He’s currently in my apartment but I don’t know how to help him.”

“Nightwing. Take an antidote to Hood. Now.” Batman, motherfuckin’ Batman of all people, ordered.

“I won’t hurt him,” you blurted. “I know that sounds exactly like what someone who planned on hurting him would say but I won’t. I’ll take this thing out so you guys can go back to talking, but please, until you can get here, how can I help him?”

“Keep talking to him,” a new voice spoke up. “Talk about anything and everything. Keep him focused. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“The window is unlocked. Thank you.”

You tossed the device onto the coffee table and stroked your thumb across Hood’s cheeks. “I gotcha. I gotcha.”

He twitched as some sort of fear-driven vision flitted across his mind and you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his temple. “Did I ever tell you about how I spilled coconut milk all over my shoes?”

You kept talking, even as he clenched his teeth and broken screams escaped the back of his throat and his domino mask started to come off his face due to a mixture of tears and sweat. You just shut your eyes and continued regaling him with stories about your time in school, your friends, jobs you’ve had in the past. Anything but the horrors in his mind.

The window slid open and then shut quickly. You looked up as Nightwing tilted Hood’s head to the side and injected a needle into his neck. He pushed the edge of the syringe down and Hood’s body relaxed as the antidote began to course through his veins. The black and blue vigilante reached up and removed his rebreather once Hood relaxed.

“Thank you,” he murmured. You blinked up at him and then looked down at Hood. You smoothed your hand over the edges of his mask to make sure it stuck and shook your head.

“He did it to save me,” you murmured. “I should have been smarter.”

“Nah,” Hood panted as he finally regained his mind from the influence of the toxin. “I just had to make sure the best barista in Gotham was safe. Need that Americano to keep me going.”

Your jaw dropped as the pieces fell into place and Nightwing let out a gleeful chuckle. “See you both on Sunday for brunch. Hood, you’re benched today.”

He strapped on his rebreather, opened your window and climbed out before shutting it, and promptly did a swan dive out of the window before grappling away.

“Does that mean…holy shit I’ve met Batman twice?”

Jason peeled off his domino mask and threw it down next to his helmet. He yanked you onto his lap, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Please stop talking about Batman like he’s better than me,” he grunted.

You woke up to a thud and then a muffled “shit!”. Rolling over, you pressed your face into your pillow to stifle your giggle.

“Shut up,” Jason whined from the floor. “My hands are full.”

“I’m sorry, aren’t you supposed to be the all-feared Red Hood?”

“That’s it. No ice cream for you.”

That got you sitting up. You flipped on the lamp next to you, finding him next to your bed in full gear. He set a cup of ice cream on your nightstand and then held out a white paper bag that you recognized from the old coffee shop you used to work at a year ago.

“Two scoops and a danish,” he reported.

“Well, look at you being all sappy,” you hummed.

Jason stood to his full height and dropped a kiss to your forehead. He moved to strip out of his leather jacket and you settled back against the headboard to watch him. Your boyfriend paused and gestured towards the food he had brought.

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to actually enjoy anniversary gifts instead of letting them melt,” he grunted. “Unless you’re not hungry. I can put it in the freezer.”

“Oh, I’m hungry all right. Continue.”

“You’re objectifying me right now. I’m being objectified.”

“Happy one year to me, baby. Now, strip.”

Tag list: @annalayton19 @tiannamortis @khaetiin @mcrmarvelloki @gone-batty-fics

#jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #red hood fluff #dc imagine #dc x reader

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explicitred · 10 months

Text

Noises

June 19, Post 15 of the "30 Days Fanfic Event"

Alhaitham x Male Reader

“I hope my roommate won't be hammering away on another one of his projects in the dead of night... Actually, I'd prefer if he wasn't home at all. I really don't want to wear my soundproof earpieces to bed.”

synopsis: In which Alhaitham can’t sleep from the sounds of Kaveh’s architect duties, and needs you♡

Hammering noises echoed throughout the house, harsh sounds reaching Alhaitham’s room.

Alhaitham’s immediately opened after a particularly loud noise. The scribe’s eyes trailed to your hand, the one that he held in the middle of between you both. You laid on your back, eyes closed with a peaceful expression. Alhaitham was on his side, so that he could hold your hand, yet the space between you two put a small distance.

A stoic and intimidating man to the Akademiya and the public, yet he was shy for you since he wasn’t used to physical contact or initiating affection. Whatever you did, heat would rush to his cheeks. Alhaitham would reread the same sentence of the paragraph in his book multiple times without stopping as he subtly stiffened, his breathing quickly becoming uneven.

The hammering only grew louder and louder, leading to Alhaitham deciding to close the gap between the both of you on the bed. The scribe didn’t want to start wearing his soundproof earpieces to sleep, but he was seriously considering it. The better and more preferable option was to dig his face into your chest or neck to hopefully sleep peacefully and not hear the irking noises in your warm and comfortable embrace.

Alhaitham’s heart hammered in his chest, his body pressed against and on top of you. Surely, you could hear, how loud his heart was beating. Suddenly, he felt as if he couldn’t hear Kaveh’s hammering anymore. Alhaitham’s eyes slowly closed, as your fingers ran through his hair.

The hammering only grew louder, yet Alhaitham slept peacefully in your embrace without any interruptions.

Huh, he was going to have to do this again.

I might digitally draw the scene I was thinking of to give a better visual of when they were holding hands and sleeping in the future

Dont get your hopes up though, and if i do draw it its gonna be bad lmao

(it takes me like 5 hours to complete a drawing, and i draw traditionally :c)

Its been 2 months and i still havent finished this one drawing of a character i like… aku im sorry😅

i also drew alhaitham but its still not finished yet after 2 months too lol

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angelltheninth · 9 months

Note

Do you think Lauren and Keiran would be good in an undercover/fake relationship scenario with Reader? A bisexual girl like me would be so flustered to have wither one as a fake partner, let alone a real one,

I do have to agree with you Anon, I wouldn't be able to handle this either.

Pairing: Lauren Sinclair, Kieran White x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, teasing, co-worker relationship, kissing, fake relationship, hiding, feelings realization

A/N: If this webtoon was more popular or got an animated adaptation I think that Lauren and Kieran would be the bi awakening for many.

LAUREN

Keeps a lid on her emotions at all times during the mission yet plays her role as your girlfriend very well, easily able to fool those around her and for someone who can detect lies is a pretty good one herself

Almost impossible to tease and fluster under any circumstance, which makes it a little hard to sell the idea that you're head over heels in love, so to make up for it she decides to be the one to tease you, drawing random patterns on the small of your back, narrowly missing your lips when going for a fake kiss, staring at you for too long after paying you a compliment

Never lets you out of her site, not necessarily for protection but because she can easily use her ability to tell if you've finally caught your suspect and thinks you work better as a team

Brags about how hot you are to all other people to further convince them that she's in love with you and has been caught staring at your breasts, which she tells you is part of the act, her only bad lie because you've seen her looking at you while getting dressed for the mission

Doesn't take well to being confronted about this and tries to leave, resulting in you pulling her in by her tie and kissing her, asking if she's really gonna keep lying while giving you kisses like those to which she responds with another kiss, the next time you go undercover there will be no pretending

KIERAN

Sells the role of your loving, charming boyfriend almost too well to the point that you begin to think he's being serious only to have that idea ripped from you when he mentions seeing the man you're going after and the reality that this is only a mission crashes on you

Opts to follow the guy through the hallways, soon realizing that the two of you are also being followed by someone and without much warning other then for you to trust him, he hooks one of your legs on his hip and kisses you until the man following you lets his guard down, think you to be another drunk couple

What you find out is that he is a very good kisser and is ready to do anything to complete his missions, even it regrettably includes playing with your heart

You're used to Kieran playing with you, teasing you, blurring the line between co-worker and something more but never has it been more blurry then now when he's kissing you one moment and in the next he's collecting himself, ready to finish the mission without so much as looking at you, but at least that kept him from noticing how flustered and out of breath you were due to his kiss

To your surprise he shows up in front of your door a few days later, flowers in hand and asking you on a date, a real one this time, no tricks or missions, just two people who hopefully like each other an equal amount

#purple hyacinth x reader #lauren sinclair x reader #kieran white x reader #purple hyacinth #lauren sinclair #kieran white #webtoon x reader #manhwa x reader #webtoon imagine #webtoon headcanons #webtoon fluff #manhwa imagines #manhwa headcanons #manhwa fluff #webtoon x you #manhwa x you #x female reader

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world-of-aus · 1 year

Text

More than Business

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Authors Note: I was not expecting the first part to get as much love as it has but I can’t thank you all for the excitement you showed on that first piece. Hoping you all enjoy this second part as much as the first, there will be a third and hopefully final piece to this installment. As always happy reading buns!

Warnings: Pinch of angst, fluff

You’re stifling back another yawn as you go to open the wooden case that holds your pastries. “You alright there sugar, you look about ready to drop and it’s only 8 a.m.” You shake your head, pulling on a smile as you will the sleep from your eyes, “just a long morning,” you answer as you reach for the baked treat with the tongs you had in hand, “wanted to display the newest pastries out front this morning – spent most of the morning moving the other pastries around because of it.”

The elder lady is laughing softly from behind you, soft hand meeting your back as she rubs it comfortingly, “well it looks lovely, and it’ll have business booming for you with the way you chose to display this newest release.” A genuine smile pulls at your lips as you place the tongs back in their place, shutting the wooden cabinet as you pass her the bag of chosen pastries. “I hope so, but if sales don’t go as planned, I’ll be sending you and Willie some as I close shop, hope you don’t mind.”

She’s mirroring your grin as you she moves the two of you to the next display, “as if Willie could ever turn down any of your pastries, you know it’s a battle to tell that man no to any baked goods from here even though he’s well aware I stop by daily.” You're laughing softly as you repeat the action of grabbing the tongs, opening the case and pulling the amount of baked goods she requests. “Well, I’m hoping he’s going to be thrilled with any extras I send your way.”

She takes the bag from your hands as you walk the two of you up to the register, “he’s gonna have a field day,” she laughs as you weigh her bag reading her the total. “You should be charging more,” she says as she dips into her coin purse, “lord knows these treats are worth more than you charge.”

Warmth floods you, as you take her change, “oh I don’t know,” you murmur, as the register opens change sliding into its place, “I sometimes I feel I overcharge.” Meredith waves a hand at you dismissing the statement, “nonsense, with the fees from the 107 and how slow business can be some days, you deserve to price according to your work and your work is worth it sweetheart.”

You pass her her bag with a warm smile on your lips, “I’ll consider it, but with the money I bring from the other shop I don’t see it in my future anytime soon.”

Meredith is laughing her hand falling over yours, “well at least consider a tip jar, it’ll help you with those ridiculous 107 fees.”

The smile falters at the mention of the 107, mind drawing a picture of the broad eyed brunette, “they’re not too bad,” you find yourself saying, “I can respect the care they have for their people even if it costs a little extra to do so.”

Something flashes in the elderly lady’s eyes, “they do care for us don’t they,” she hums, “well still sweetheart consider the tip jar, any amount helps you know, times can be tough.”

And you did know, you knew how hard it could be for some of the other business owners to gather the remaining amount as the time for the fees drew closer and closer. You decided then as you bid Meredith a farewell that you would set out a tip jar. A tip jar not for your store, but for the other stores who needed that extra hand when it came time.

After Meredith leaves to tend to her flower shop with her husband Willie the shop is at its usual business of a flow of your regulars. Each one taking their usual along with the new bake that waits for them at the front of the shop by the register.

“Goodness y/n you’re going to have me rushing over here before your bakery closes for the evening these are wonderful!” Your smile is bright as you take in the delight of your neighbor, “please stop by, I’ll have some saved for you free of charge.”

You laugh at her surprise, “now y/n, I couldn’t let you give me these free,” she argues but you wave her off, “really it’s no trouble, I’d rather these go home with someone then in a trash bin at the end of the day.” And although you can see the argument that sits on her tongue, she thanks you anyway, leaving her extra change in the tip jar before promising to see you later in the evening.

The tip jar slowly fills as regulars drop their extra change along with their warmest welcomes and promises to see you tomorrow filling not only your jar but yourself with their kindness. The hours tick by and before you know you’re flipping your sign and your lock for lunch, the thirty minutes giving you time to relax and enjoy yourself as you decide which pastry and drink, you’d like for lunch.

Your thoughts of lunch are forgotten at the sound of a knock at your door. Your brows furrow as you turn your head, heart catching in your throat as you meet the familiar ocean greys. He offers you a small smile through the glass door, mouthing if he can come in.

You’re twisting on your feet before you can give it a second thought. Fingers twisting the lock as your hand wraps around the knob pulling the door open. “Bucky,” you greet, “is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine sweetheart, can I come in?”

You’re unsure what to say, the 107s leader never had reason before to come in outside of coming for their money at the first of the month, you wonder what’s gone wrong, were you short? Surely Steve and Sam had double counted the amount you were sure was there.

“I promise everything’s okay,” Bucky says as if reading your worry, “just came to talk.”

You want to say that he’s never come to just talk but you bite back your tongue choosing to hold the door open instead as you offer him room to come in. “Look if this is about yesterday evening Buck,” you begin as you walk further into the shop with the brunette, “there really are no hard feelings, I should have known I just -”

He’s turning on you then closing the last foot of space between the two of you, a shake to his head as he looks down at you, “you didn’t deserve my behavior in your office yesterday and for that I’m sorry. The first time we met you welcomed us – welcomed me with a kind smile, sweet words, and an even sweeter pastry, despite knowing what we were here for, despite our name you never looked at us any differently, never cowered away from me in fear.”

“Ma said it was never polite to judge a book by its cover, everyone’s got a story and I had yet to know yours.”

In that moment Bucky can’t believe you’re real, can’t believe he gets to know you and your kind heart. “I know you say everything’s okay, but I need to make it right. I hurt you last night y/n, and you didn’t deserve that, you’ve done nothing to deserve that behavior.” You’re the one shaking your head now, hands coming up to cross over your chest, a form of comfort as you choose your next words. “But you weren’t wrong Bucky, your visits have only ever been purely business, a simple transaction; you had never given me any reason to believe there was something more there aside from what I wanted to believe, what I let myself believe.”

“Do you really believe that, that it's just been business, a transaction?”

You want to say ‘no’, that you don’t believe it's just been business, but the uncertainty, the rejection has you biting your tongue. “We’re not friends outside of the business we do every first of the month Bucky, to an onlooker they might at most call us an acquaintance if they were to see our interactions, but I don’t think they would call what we do more than business.”

Bucky knows that you don’t believe that, can catch it in the way your gaze leaves his to instead look at the wooden floorboard of your shops. “Does it really matter what others think?”

“Does it,” you throw back, “it sure seemed like it mattered to you the other night.”

Bucky deserves it, despite the non malicious way your words came out he knows he deserves it, because he hurt you and despite this you’re still so kind to him. You don’t allow him a chance to get a word in as you shake your head rubbing lightly at your eyes.

“I’m sorry, look why don’t you join me in my office and we can talk about what you came here for over a pastry and your choice of beverage, I only have,” you looked at the grandfather clock, “22 minutes before I have to flip my sign over for the afternoon and I’d really like to eat something before the rush whaddya say Barnes you willing to sit and eat something with me, forget about the other day?”

Bucky knows there’s no forgetting that pain he saw flash across your features but he’s willing to start somewhere. “You going to let me pay for my meal?”

That draws a genuine smile out of you, “no can do Buck, but you can leave a tip in the jar if you’d like,” you say pointing to the tip jar sitting on display at your register.

“Everything okay, you in some trouble?”

You’re shaking your head with a laugh, “nothing like that, it’s not for me,” you say drawing a look of confusion from the brunette, “Meredith mentioned me putting one out despite my protests that financially I was okay, business might not be slow for me but it can for the other businesses on the block – it’s my way of giving back and lending a helping hand at the first of the month.”

“No one's mentioned struggling,” he murmurs, “I’d be willing to cut rent if I knew - if I have to get cheaper supplies to keep their shops up and running, we’d find a way, is this happening with all the shops?”

“Meredith was the first to voice something like that and I mentioned to her that despite the price it was a price paid to take care of your people – despite your grumpy demeanor,” you add with a smile. You’re moving around the shop then grabbing two pastries and two beverages, “c’mon Barnes, this way,” you say leading the way into your office, his hand shutting the door behind the two of you.

The two of you take the seats in front of your desk, your hands placing the sweets and drinks down on your desk as the two of you get comfortable.

“So, Barnes, what did you want to talk about?”

He reaches for his pastry wanting to busy his hands as he tries to find the words of the plan he had shared with Steve and Sam earlier this morning. “Our conversation last night really had me thinking,” he begins, “that can’t be good,” you tease. He shakes his head giving you a look that has you hiding your grin behind a bite of the pastry. “Like I was saying,” he continues, “our talk last night, and the moment you shared with Meredith has me thinking, I don’t want my people to fear me, it shouldn’t be me they fear, I should be the one they’re able to come to, talk to about problems they face. I should be the one they come to when something goes wrong. Who am I if they fear me just as much as the others, who am I if the people I'm meant to take care of are they very same ones that cower from me in fear?”

“I don’t think its entirely because they fear you buck, do I think you intimidate them yes, but I don’t think it’s fear.”

Bucky reaches for his beverage next, needing to clear his throat, “fear or not, I don’t want them thinking they can’t come to me, that they don’t have a friend in me.” That has you smiling, an uptick to the corner of your mouth, “so what exactly are you going to propose to change this?”

“The guys and I have been talking with the holidays rolling around we thought we’d give something back to our community.” “Oh,” you question with a brow raised, “we were thinking we could bring everyone together and host a fall carnival of sorts.”

“I think everyone would enjoy that, would the 107 be hosting?”

“We would be,” Bucky nods, “but this is where you come in, I need your help.”

“My help, how?”

“I know it’s going to take some time for everyone to warm up to the thought of us like you have, so I was hoping you could help me spread the word. I’m hoping we can get all the businesses on the block to set up a table or booth courtesy of us to help them bring in more money.”

Your smile warms the brunette, a smile of his own pulling at his lips, “I’d love to spread the word, does this mean I'm getting my own booth?” Your brow raises at the smirk that tugs at the corner of Bucky’s mouth, “actually sweetheart, how good of a teacher are you?”

You let out a laugh, “uhm last I checked I was working in a bakery not a preschool, so I'm not sure how good of a teacher I'd be.”

“You think you’d have enough patience to show 8 bikers how to bake?”

“Is your baking as good as your driving,” you question, “my ma taught me a thing or two in the kitchen,” he answers, “well then it might not be such a lost cause,” you tease, “though the other seven, well I can’t speak for them.”

“So you’re in?”

Your smile is warm, “you can count me in Buck, I think it’ll be a nice change for all of us.”

He matches your smile, “I think so too.”

“So, you think this’ll work,” Bucky questions as he steps out onto the pathway, your sign flipping from closed to open.

“You can count on me to spread the word,” you offer with a warm smile, “but you should really try and stop in more often with the other shops, don’t let them judge your story by its cover, let them read it, let them see the you I see.”

Both your attention is pulled from one another by one of your regulars coming along, her eyes wide as she takes in the man before you. He offers her a smile, “good afternoon Alice, was just getting out of y/n’s hair, your pops still have that pasta special on Tuesday’s?”

The teenager nods not quite finding her voice at her first ever interaction with the biker, “Perfect I'll see the two of you later today if you can let your old man know I’ll be stopping by.” He’s turning to you then, “mind if I stop by later with the boys to grab some pastries from you, the ma’s will be visiting the club tomorrow, I'll even bring you a plate of pasta for the lunch today.”

“It was on the house Bucky, but I wouldn’t mind a plate of pasta from my favorite diner,” you say as you beckon Alice over, the teenager closing the distance between the two of you as she steps into the offered open door.

“Well then I'll be seeing the two of you later, you have a great shift sweetheart, Alice,” he nods in farewell.

You and Alice are seeing the man off, the loud rumble of his bike sounding through the block before he’s kicking off the curb and off onto the street. You two watch as he disappears off into the distance before you’re ushering the two of you into the quiet of your shop.

“The usual,” you say as you grab a paper bag for the girl, “I thought the others were just talking but Bucky Barnes was really here, is everything okay, did you run late on rent, I can talk to my dad, the others we can figure something out.”

You look at the girl over your shoulder a smile on your lips, “No, I gave my rent like all of you, Bucky was just here to tell me about a fall festival the 107 wants to host for the block.”

“Fall festival, the 107, are you sure we’re talking about the same biker group.”

You laugh softly as you turn back to your display grabbing the tongs from the side, “they’re not as scary as everyone makes them out to be, in fact they’re all a couple of sweethearts once you get to know them.”

“And how well do you know Bucky?”

You’re looking at the girl over your shoulder, dropping two extras of her favorites into the bag, a grin on the girl's face. “It’s not like that Alice, he’s just a -”

“Just a what,” she encourages, you’re looking down in thought before meeting her eye, “just a friend.”

The look that crosses the girls' features Is thoughtful as she asks her next question, “is that why the 107 lingers around here longer at the first of the month, because its more than just business?”

You’re turning toward the girl, handing her the bag as she moves over to the next case, “it’s still a transaction between two people but, yeah,” you nod, “it's definitely more than just business, just like when you come in.”

Alice smiles, “do you really think the 107 is going to be able to put on the fall festival you know with all the talk that surrounds them?”

“I’ve come to learn that actions speak louder than words, so yeah, I'm hopeful they will.”

“I hope so too, Mr. Barnes seems like a nice guy, under all that tough exterior,” Alice says as she follows you to the register.

He is you think, he really is.

#biker!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes au #biker au

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pimosworld · 4 months

Text

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He’s tasked to find Frankie’s, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, Angst,Fluff,Hurt,Comfort, Eventual smut,MMF dynamics, a lot of music references, best friends loving each other. Individual warnings will be added to chapters with sensitive topics.

WC-5K

A/N- Dave is basically a stalker but it’s hot. Alicia is the best friend everyone wants and poor Frankie is gonna go through it for a bit I’m sorry.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter II

Three days

That’s all it takes for Dave to find you. Even the most conscientious person does not realize their social media footprint. Tattoo artists have taken to posting their portfolios online to help show off their work and maybe connect a few soulmates.

Image searches and his confidential connections are what helps him be so successful. It’s not often he has to give a refund for any reason other than the person he found has no interest in meeting their soulmate.

It’s a feeling he can’t describe when he sees your photo. You have a face like someone he’s known his whole life, yet he’s never met you. Your smile lights up his screen as you stand next to an albeit conventionally attractive woman but just not his type. He knows nothing about you, even with a file on his desk with all the details he could gather about your life.

Francisco is a very lucky man

With his flight booked and a hotel for a week, this should be a fairly quick trip. Once he confirms that it is in fact Frankie’s soulmate, he’ll approach you with the details and hopefully or regretfully connect you with Frankie.

****

Dave doesn’t get nervous. He’s usually all business, not caring much how the person is going to react, he just wants to get it over with so he can be on his way. He spent a little extra time this morning in his hotel, checking over his appearance. A little over dressed for a first meeting, not a single hair out of place.

The record store you work at is not very far from his hotel but he decides to drive anyway. Sweating through his dress shirt isn’t really a good look for a glorified stalker. Yes of course he was a private investigator but people didn’t always kindly take to being told he was hired to find them…as romantic as it may seem to some.

He parks his rental across the street from the record store but he can’t see much with the windows decorated with drawings and a floor to ceiling plant wall. He takes one last look at himself in the rear view mirror, trying too hard not to focus on the lines he’s never noticed before etched across his forehead.

Dave walks the short distance across the street and stops to admire the small easel outside. Buy one get one half off records with today's date written in cute bubble letters. He imagines you spent some time on it but obviously he can’t be certain it was you.

He enters and a bell chimes above his head as you look over busy with another customer.

“Welcome to spins, I’ll be with you in a moment.” You give a half wave and a smile in his direction and he forgets how to be a human for a second. He stands stupidly in the doorway watching you as you animatedly describe something about a hidden poster in the vinyl jacket to the older woman you're helping.

He finally wills his feet to move and picks a random aisle to peruse while he waits for you. He had something prepared to say to you but now he can’t remember for the life of him how to do his job. He looks around admiring the colorful orange and yellow walls. The natural light brightening the small store that you seem to be running on your own. There’s a small nook in the back with an old zenith and two leather chairs on either side. This place feels cozy like a home he’d blend right into. Very unlike his gray drab living room back home.

He stares down at the random assortment of vinyls in front of him and picks one up so he doesn’t look suspicious. Frankly he has no idea what he’s looking at while he racks his brain for an appropriate introduction.

“You don’t strike me as a Grateful Dead fan.” He turns to see you standing there, with that same bright smile on your face when you waved at him. He’s not sure if you said something as you wait patiently for a response, nervously biting your bottom lip between your teeth and he wants to pull it down with his thumb. He’s completely lost it at the sight of you in some worn overalls and orange top matching the decor of the room.

“I’m sorry did you say something?” You duck your head and laugh a little and he can’t help but laugh with you. He hasn’t been this nervous to talk to a woman in a very long time.

You gesture to the record in his hand. “Are you a fan?”

“Oh, ugh honestly? I just picked up the first thing I saw.” He sets it back in its place, careful not to mess up the order now that you were watching. “What do I strike you as?”

You smirk and study him up and down, you start circling him like you’re stalking your prey. He follows you with his eyes until he’s forced to turn his head, to which you protest with a stern look. Maybe it’s the way you don’t seem to be intimidated by him or the way you’re so blatantly checking him out that has him so intrigued.

“You look like a Journey fan to me.”

“Well it seems your inspection is correct because I love Journey.” Your squeal of excitement takes him by surprise as you jump up and down.

“I was totally joking…I’ve literally never done that before.” You don’t really know what’s gotten into you but this is quite possibly the most handsome man that’s ever walked into the store and Alicia would kill you if you didn’t at least have a little fun with him.

“I’m glad I could help you find a hidden talent…” He leans in to see your name tag and you can smell the woody scent of his cologne and fresh laundry. You don’t miss the way he licks his lips after he speaks and you would be a complete idiot to not notice he’s flirting with you.

“You look a little overdressed?”

“Dave.” He holds out his hand for you and it nearly dwarfs your own when you shake it. He holds it for a moment longer as he stares down at your wrist. Men always had a weird reaction to seeing your tattoos.

“Well Dave, you’re very dressed up to look at records in the middle of the day.”

This is the part where he says he’s a private investigator.

“I’m an insurance agent.” You raise your eyebrows at that.

This is the part where he says your soulmate hired him to find you.

“I’m here for work for a little while. The store caught my eye.” Chances this man walked into the store on a whim are pretty slim but you don’t really care at the moment.

“Well Dave the insurance agent…sounds fake if you ask me.” You turn to walk away but don’t feel him following you. “The section you want is over here.”

Dave has been having a moral dilemma ever since he saw your photo. It’s being made all that more difficult at the confirmation of your hummingbird tattoo on the inside of your wrist. The same one that he noticed on Frankie when he rolled up his sleeves at the coffee shop.

He follows you to the end of the aisle trying not to look at your ass in those overalls that seem to fit you perfectly. You have a bounce in your step and he can’t for the life of him remember the last time he saw someone so adorably happy.

“It’s hard to pick just one. Departure is a great album but Frontiers has some of their best hits.” You chew on your lip again as you flip through the stack. “But Escape has some amazing songs.”

He can’t help the smile on his face as he listens to your detailed synopsis, it’s something he could listen to everyday. He’s lucky he’s the only customer in here at the moment. He’d kill someone if they dared interrupt his private hand picked selection from you.

“Honestly I would just go with their greatest hits. It has most of the songs you’ll want, maybe missing a few in my opinion.” You say the last part like it’s a special secret that only he and you share. “Don’t mind my rambling…my mom always said I didn’t know what to stop.” Hence the tattoo

You’re holding it out for him like a silver platter, practically beaming and that little part of his brain ticks away again. This is someone’s soulmate. He takes it from you gently and tucks it under his arm.

“We have a player back here if you want to check for any scratches. Everything here is pretty much donated or thrifted by yours truly.” You do a little curtsy and suddenly look nervous for the first time in the conversation.

“I actually have to get going but I really appreciate the hand selection.” He doesn’t miss the way your face drops a little and he so badly wants to stay but if he doesn’t leave now, he never will.

“I’ll get you rung up so you can get out of here. I’m sure you have very important ‘insurance’ matters to attend to.” He lets out a hearty laugh, one he didn’t know he was still capable of.

You enter the total into the old school cash register, everything about this place makes him feel like he’s in the twilight zone. You place it in a paper bag along with a cleaning rag and some random coupons.

“Here you go Dave…bring it back if you’re not satisfied.” He’s trying to be completely normal about you… but the way you emphasize satisfied has him thinking inappropriate thoughts.

“Thanks hummingbird, I’ll be back soon.” He winks as he exits, the bell chiming above his head.

There’s no way he can know your nickname, it’s just a coincidence since he saw your tattoo. Except no one’s called you that in years.

****

“Tell me more.” Alicia hasn’t stopped pacing since you got home from work and told her about Dave.

“I don’t know what else to say.” You sigh as you stare up at the ceiling from the couch. “He was just easy to talk to.” And extremely attractive, charming, well dressed…

She leans over the couch as she cradles your head “Oh babe, you’ve got it bad.”

“Stop, we talked for like five minutes.” Your best friend knows you better than you know yourself. Something about Dave just felt like more than a chance encounter with a stranger. He cared what you had to say, respected your opinion…

“I’ve lost you again.” She’s sitting beside you playing with your comfort blanket, giving you that look.

“Sorry…I’m just overthinking this. I don’t even know anything about him.” You furrow your brow and she leans over to smooth it out.

“Stop that, you’ll get wrinkles.” She’s like a fussy mother sometimes but you love her. “Listen, I'm gonna give you my honest opinion.”

“I’d be disappointed with anything less.”

She grabs your hands and holds them in hers. “I know you just met him, but he sounds nice. So why don’t you just have some fun with it.”

Easier said than done.

“Fine, but I won’t be surprised if I never see him again.” You don’t want to get your hopes up anymore than you already have.

“Oh ya I’m sure he won't be able to pull himself away from his ‘insurance job’ to pay you another visit.” She puts the latter in quotations and you both laugh.

“So you do agree with me! His job sounds so fake.” You shove her lightly as she leans against the headrest.

“I can't judge, I don’t even have a job.”

“So what do you do all day?”

She taps lightly on her chin, fake pondering. “I mostly sit by the window and sigh until you’re off work.”

“Well you should come hang out with me when you’re bored. Who knows you might find yourself a Dave.” You wink at her as you stand from the couch and head over to your record player.

“I might take you up on that. If not just to watch you nerd out over music all day.”

You playfully flip her off as you flip through your personal stack of vinyls. Some from your dad and some you’ve accumulated over the years. Others more recently from the store when a special one catches your eye.

“First of all, you love my taste in music.” You hold up the Prince record and she enthusiastically nods her head. “Second of all, you get to pretend to know all about music on your dates because of muah.”

“Touché. Now put that shit on so we can have a dance party.”

You cue up the music as she dramatically flings off the blanket. You don’t even have to turn around to know she’s standing behind you with her invisible mic in hand.

Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to get through this thing called life. Electric world life, it means forever and that’s a mighty long time.

“Must you do this every time?”

She grabs you by the collar of your sleep shirt, pulling you face to face with her as you try not to burst out into laughter.

But I’m here to tell you there’s something else. The afterworld, a world of never ending happiness. You can always see the sun, day or night.

You sigh in her face and bring your invisible mic up.

So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills, you know the one. Dr. Everything’ll be alright.

You both take a step back and point to each other as the music picks up. These are the moments you live for with your best friend. Soulmate or not.

And if the elevator tries to bring you down. Go crazy.

****

Frankie slides into the booth with a pitcher of beer and three glasses.

“You find your soulmate yet Fish?” Ben pours a glass missing the way Santi rolls his eyes.

“Let the man get settled in.” Santi leans over grabbing the freshly poured beer from Ben and hands it to Frankie.

Ben sends Frankie an apologetic smile but he waves him off.

“It’s only been a few days Ben, but I’m feeling optimistic.”

That surprises Santi a little but he would never tell Frankie that he was skeptical of his friend being receptive to this whole ordeal.

It wasn’t a lie, Frankie was feeling very optimistic these days. He spent hours reading through the testimonials of people who had success with Dave’s services. After their awkward meeting at the coffee shop Frankie needed to put his mind at ease. Majority of the connections had been made in no less than three to five days. This was the end of day three. If his reputation was as good as people said then he should be expecting a call pretty soon.

“How’s Will?” Santi asks, trying to change the subject.

“Hopefully on a beach enjoying some overpriced cocktail with his Wife.” Ben tilts his glass toward the other men as they silently cheers.

His attempt at changing the subject only made Frankie’s mind wander. Thinking of how much fun he had on his honeymoon. How could someone say they were there for better or worse and then decide one day they had enough? He didn’t want to feel like a placeholder in someone’s life.

A light buzzing in Frankie’s pocket brings his attention back to the present. Dave’s name illuminates on the screen of his phone.

“Sorry, I should take this.” Frankie excuses himself from the table and steps outside the bar.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Francisco, it’s Dave York. Do you have a minute to talk?” His tone comes off a little apprehensive but he doesn’t want to assume.

“Ya I have a minute, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a lead I want to follow up on tomorrow.I just wanted to give you an update on how things are going.”

“That’s…amazing. Is there any more you can tell me?” He hears Dave sigh on the other end. “I understand if you can’t, obviously you’re the expert, this is all very new to me.”

“I don’t like to give too much information, just in case it’s a dead end. I will say this person is only a few hours from you.”

Frankie understands what a tough position Dave is in. If this person isn’t his soulmate or for some horrible reason it just doesn’t work out, he’s got his hopes up for no reason.

It stings a little knowing that his soulmate isn’t halfway across the world. They’re potentially in his backyard and quite possibly have been for some time. He doesn’t want to get ahead of himself so he tucks that thought away.

“Thanks for the update Dave, hope to hear from you soon.”

“Hopefully I’ll have some good news for you in the next few days.”

Frankie ends the call and enters the bar to rejoin the guys and give them the good news.

****

Dave sits at the hotel lounge, the ice in his drink melted long ago making his whiskey nearly tasteless.

He’s lied to clients before, but never for his own benefit. He’s spent most of the day deciding what to do about you. His mind is going in all directions of how he should handle this situation. From the outside the answer is obvious. This was literally what he was hired to do. He’s connected so many people he’s lost count.

This isn’t the first time he’s found someone’s soulmate attractive…attraction was only one piece of the puzzle. He’s never felt this level of excitement and anticipation of possibly seeing you again. You didn’t belong to him by nature and yet he felt like you were meant for him to find you.

He had to give himself a push in one direction either way, so he decided to call Frankie and tell him he might have found you. There was no going back now, he was going to tell you tomorrow who Frankie is and watch his heartbreak in real time when he sees that look on your face.

You belong to someone else

****

Dave hovers for a moment outside the store. For some reason he feels more uncomfortable in plain clothes than he does in his suit and tie. His reflection in the window of the store feels foreign as he takes in his t-shirt and jeans appearance.

He’s not even sure you’re working today and he’s been trying to catch a glimpse of you in the window but to no avail. Pretty soon he’s going to have to call it a day and head back to the hotel, he thinks he’s getting weird looks from people or perhaps he’s just being paranoid.

He sees some movement finally as you make your way down on the isles. You look flustered when he waves at you and he notices a less than happy gentleman hot on your heels as you head to the register.

When he enters the store and the bell chimes, the man pays him no mind as he continues to raise his voice about a record being scratched.

Dave’s eye twitches a little at the tone he’s taking with you, he clenches his fists at his side as he pretends to look at something in a nearby aisle.

You flinch a little as he points his finger in your face.“So there’s nothing you can do for me? That seems a little ridiculous.”He slaps his hands on the counter and Dave inches a little closer.

“Sir, we listened to the entire album and it didn’t scratch once. I can offer you a copy if I find one or you can pick out something else.” Your eyes are a little glossy and your voice is quivering. There’s a slow rage building in Dave at the moment that he hasn’t felt since he quit his previous job. “Unfortunately, I can’t offer you a refund, it’s store…”

The short disgruntled man cuts you off before you can finish and Dave’s had just about enough.

“I’m sure you can refund me -.”

“I’m sorry did you not hear what she said!?” Dave steps behind the man and he turns to protest but swallows his words before he can speak. His nostrils are flared as he stares the man down. “You can take this one.”

Dave holds his hand out and you look down realizing you’ve been clutching the vinyl close to your chest. You slowly hand it to him as he asks if ‘you’re okay’. The way his hands brushes yours as he winks at you is enough to make you forget that it’s not just the two of you standing there. He’s completely bewitched you and he’s barely said a thing.

The menacing look he gives the man as he hands him the vinyl is quite the inverse to the look he just gave you. The switch was so sudden it made your head spin.The man sends you an apologetic smile and scurries out the front door leaving you with Dave and this unresolved sexual tension building between you.

“Are you here by yourself?” He asks as he glances around the store.

“Well you’re here at the moment…so no.” He smirks at your obvious flirting.“Thank you by the way…you didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s lucky that’s all I did.” Something flashes in his eyes when he says that…

“You’re pretty intimidating.”

He steps closer to you but you don’t move. “You don’t seem intimidated.”

“That’s because I’m not.” You watch his Adam's apple as he swallows your words, stepping impossibly closer.

He’s so close you can smell the mint of his gum mixed with the intoxicating scent of his cologne. His eyes flit to your lips so briefly you might have missed it.

The door chimes and you both break apart.

“Oh shit!” Alicia stands at the door and smiles at Dave.

You try to look anywhere but at her face as he awkwardly clears his throat.

“I’ll just…” She points to the back of the store and walks behind Dave down the aisle. She runs her fingers through her hair mouthing ‘oh my god’ as you try to suppress your chuckle.

He shakes his head not bothering to turn around and ruin your moment with your friend, he’s certain he recognized her from one of your photos.

You practically begged Alicia to visit you at work and of course she picks this exact moment to take you up on your offer.

“So what brings you back to the store? Hopefully you don’t want a refund.” His genuine laugh at your joke is drowned out by the sound of music playing.

I just died in your arms tonight

It must have been something you said

“Oh my god I’m going to kill her.” You hide your face in your hands, unable to hide your embarrassment.

I keep looking for something I can’t get

Broken hearts lie all around me

“Cutting crew…she doesn’t have bad taste.” The look on your face lets him know you’re impressed.

Perhaps bad timing but definitely not bad taste.

“I ugh…there was something I forgot to give you last time.” Frankie’s information

You humm awaiting his response as he nervously tucks his hands into his Jean pockets. “I wanted to give you my number…if you’re alright with that.”

Your mouth hangs open in shock. This gorgeous man, who has consumed your thoughts for the last several days, came back just to give you his number.

You both react to a squeal from the back as you take note of the music that’s now stopped. His cheeks hurt from smiling so much, it seems he’s not used to using those muscles in his face.

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and open your contacts. He should feel bad when you hand it to him, but all he feels is excitement as he enters his contact in your phone and hands it back to you.

“Bye hummingbird.”

You laugh as you glance down at the contact in your phone. Dave-insurance guy

The door barely closes before Alicia is bolting to the front counter. “I’m sorry I interrupted your moment but holy shit.” She wraps her arms around you as you both jump up and down.

“Holy shit is right.” You exhale as she holds you close after your impromptu dance moment. “Thank you.”

She lets you go, giving you an inquisitive look. “For?”

“For always being here.”

She scoffs mockingly offended by your words. “I will always be here for you.” She kisses you on your forehead. “Hummingbird is new?”

“Shut up.”

****

Dave’s finger hovers over the contact in his phone as he sits outside the record store.

Make the call Dave

“Morales.” His cheery tone is not matched by Dave on the other end.

“Francisco, it's Dave. Are you free to meet tomorrow? I'm a little over an hour from you.”

Oh no, Frankie can hear the seriousness in his voice even through the phone. He knew he shouldn’t have got his hopes up. He should’ve just told Santiago to leave it alone.

“Ya, we can meet at the coffee shop from before.” Frankie hangs up the phone after Dave agrees on a time to meet.

Dave smiles down at the phone as the call ends when he sees a text from you.

Here’s my number I hope you like texting 🥰

Works for me hummingbird

****

Santi reaches for the remote to turn down the tv. “That didn’t sound like good news.”

Frankie exhales as he looks up at Santiago. “He wants to meet in person.” It’s safe to assume he doesn’t want to break any bad news to him over the phone.

“You want me to come with you?”

“No hermano, I should handle this myself.” Frankie sits on the couch next to him and pats him on the shoulder. “I don’t blame you if this doesn’t work out. Maybe it’s just not meant to be, you know.”

“Ya…maybe.”

Santi can never quite explain what goes through his head when he gets these grand ideas, for whatever reason he’s going to leave Frankie out of this one and handle it himself. He knows next to nothing about Dave, but something in his gut is telling him things aren’t quite right.

****

If there was a Guinness book of world records for being late to a job you live down the street from, you’d have the award.

The bathroom is still slightly steamy from your shower and you can hardly see yourself in the mirror. You didn’t usually spend so much time on your hair and makeup but if Dave was going to stop by again you wanted to look nice.

Your phone pings as you finish the wing on your liner.

Dave: Are you free for lunch today?

Yes I’m free at 1 if that works for you

Dave: See you at 1 hummingbird

You stare at the text with a giddy expression on your face. Your phone is flying out of your hand before you can stop it as you collide with Alicia as you exit the bathroom.

“Shit I’m sorry.”

She picks up the phone before you, holding it just out of reach. “If I read this…will it be naughty?” You note the playfulness in her tone.

“No.” Although the thoughts you’ve been having about him late at night definitely are.

She pouts and hands it back to you. “You almost sound disappointed.”

You didn’t really mean it to come off that way, but you can’t help but think how long it’s been since you’ve been with anyone.

“He asked me out to lunch.”

The look on her face is borderline psychotic as she grabs your shoulders. “Please tell me you said yes. I can figure out how to sell records if you need me to cover you, it can’t be that hard. No offense babe.”

You giggle at her excited rambles. “Thanks but I usually just close during lunch anyway.” You pry her hands from your shoulders and walk towards her room with her hot on your heels.

“Where are you going?”

“To your closet to borrow that blue blouse that makes your tits look great.”

She moves you aside aggressively shuffling through the hangers. “I meant where are you going to have lunch?” She rips the blouse down and tosses it to you.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” You glance at the clock as you finish getting dressed. “Shit, I have to go babe. Love you.”

You yelp as she slaps your ass when you walk away,she calls out to you just as you're closing the front door.

“Don’t do anything I would do.”

****

Dave scrubs his hand across the mirror in the hotel bathroom. Even with the blur he can see the extra lines in his face, his tired eyes illuminating under the bright fluorescent lights.

Sleep hadn’t come easy if at all the night before. He was flying so high when he left the store after he gave you his number.

He couldn’t get the image out of his mind of you so obviously turned on at his show of protectiveness. Your pupils were blown wide as you inched closer to him. He could practically reach out and touch you. He wanted to kiss your perfect lips and have you pressed into his body.

He pictured your hands in place of his as he stroked himself in the shower, your soft voice in his ear and your pliant body beneath him as he came painting the walls of the shower. His mind cleared as the water ran cold. How was he going to explain who he was? His job was a lie, besides for his name, everything he told you was a lie.

There was no rational thought when it came to you. A night of no sleep didn't make the situation any better. He’s asking you to lunch before his brain can catch up with the action. You’re saying yes before he can stop the train that’s in motion.

He keeps telling himself he’ll figure the rest out later…but later was coming up on him fast and he needed to come up with a solution.

Thankfully Frankie wanted to meet early. That would give him plenty of time to get there and back and pick up lunch for the both of you. Maybe in the meantime he’ll come up with a plan…or he’ll continue on as he is completely fragmented from reality.

****

He was determined to get here before Dave

Frankie’s starting to hate this coffee shop. It tastes a little more bitter than the last time. The lights are just a little too bright for his liking. The noise is just a little too much. Everything seems turned up too high and he wants to crawl out of his skin.

He talked about this with his therapist. When he starts to feel like this he should take a few deep breaths and try to ground himself. With every deep breath he tries to take, it’s like his lungs won’t fill up enough.

Maybe he should’ve let Santiago come with him

“Hey Francisco.”

Frankie nearly jumps out of his skin when Dave greets him at the table. His whole demeanor is much lighter than the first time they met here.

Dave takes in his frazzled appearance…he’s like a caged animal ready to strike. Dave’s seen this look before, in others but mostly himself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Frankie waves him off. “It’s fine…just had too much coffee.” His smile doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “You can call me Frankie by the way.” Formalities out the window when you’ve hired someone to find the love of your life.

Dave swallows thick at the way Frankie disarms a little. The last thing he needs is to start liking the guy who’s girl he’s stealing. Even admitting it to himself feels like an incredible violation.

“Listen Francis…Frankie-.”

“Before you start.”

They chuckle after speaking simultaneously and Frankie clears his throat. “Look…it didn’t sound on the phone like you had good news. So please just give it to me straight.”

Dave looks away from his eyes, focusing on his large hands virtually dwarfing the small coffee cup. Focus

“I found a lead, but it turned out to be a dead end. Trust me these things take time and I’m working as hard as I can.” Lies

Frankie briefly removed his hat to run his fingers through his hair. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I know we got off on the wrong foot but it means a lot that you’re trying.” Being paid to at least

Albeit a flimsy bridge, they manage to bridge some gap that had formed when they first met. Dave almost forgets he needs to make his way back in time to meet you for lunch.

They say their goodbyes and part ways.

Santiago watches Dave exit the cafe from across the street as he starts up the car.

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

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infictionalwonderland · 2 years

Note

A request from this thirsty fellow — being in a poly relationship with Klaus Mikaelson and Stefan Salvatore I know you've written them already but i crave for more But ! I totally understand if you don't have motivation rn it's okay no problem JUST KNOW I LOVE YOUR WORK 💞

thank you angel! and i understand the craving, trust me — so, you ask and you shall receive 😩

you have these fossil men reduced to hopeless simps

and they have each other reduced to balls of fluff

I WILL NOT AND WILL NEVER GET OVER HUGS FROM BEHIND.

they will both come up behind you and gently entangle their arms over your waist and pull you back into their chest

you have to settle so many debates for these two.

‘y/n, love, will you please tell our boyfriend that he’s wrong and i have the best hair out of us two’

‘y/n, sweetheart, please inform nik that he is extremely incorrect and overall uneducated on the matter of what actually good hair looks like’

baby i’m sorry but you’re never gonna catch a break with these two

nik will randomly request that the two of you pose together and then he’ll spend hours drawing you, music playing in the background

you love seeing the soft moments between klaus & stefan :)

when klaus tucks stefan in after a long day and presses a kiss to his forehead with adoration in his gaze

or when stefan blushes at the range of adoring nicknames that klaus has for him

or when they both apologise at the same time after an argument and end up goofily grinning at one another

they always put your needs above their own

‘have you eaten today?’ when they haven’t even had a blood bag or any sustenance for a while

you go to concerts sometimes together bc stefan is actually quite a fan of various singers/bands

and you all get separation anxiety so therefore you must go together

klaus protectively wraps his arms around both of you and acts as an affectionate bodyguard

he glares at anyone who steps in your personal space which is practically everyone around

if either of you want to see better he will unabashedly hold you in his arms and hoist you up high so you get a good view

OMG ALL THE CAMERA BOOTH PICS

klaus will definitely be reluctant at first but gives in when you and stef start pouting

your fav photo is one where klaus is in the middle — you and stefan each sitting on one of his thighs, kissing either of his cheeks as a soft smile twitches at his lips

stefan’s fav photo is one where he had pushed klaus so his head was resting in your cleavage and the hybrids face was bright red, he ( stefan ) was mid laugh and you were sticking your tongue out at the camera — eyes happy and mildly intoxicated

klaus’ fav photo is when you’re sitting on his lap, sideways, and both him and stefan are tickling you with wide grins as you throw your head back in uncontrollable laughter

all the photos are placed around your shared bedroom along with the drawings and paintings nik has made <3

stefan put both yours and his ringtones for klaus as ‘wolves’ by selena gomez and marshmello

klaus retaliated by putting yours and his ringtone for stefan as ‘bunny, bunny, bunny’ by the golden orchestra

if either you or stefan can’t sleep then klaus will stay up with you and tell you stories from his life in a soothing, hushed tone to hopefully lull you to sleep

adding the hand combing through your hair

most adorable & most chaotic couple!

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 1 year

Note

Ugh you did so great with the hurt/comfort I requested!! 🥺

If it’s not too much to ask, is there anyway I could get a smutty spin-off? A couple days later and Billy is still feeling guilty for how he acted at the party.

He’s been in heavy service dom mode, focusing most on reader’s pleasure 😩

Thank you once again Anon! 💛 I wrote this on my lunchbreak as I couldn't stand putting it off any longer. I hope I did your prompt justice. Now I really want to write Mean!Billy smut. I'll add these requests to the masterlist eventually as the 'Sunshine Series', which is something I'll hopefully be expanding on once Friendly Sex is completed.

Warnings: Explicit sex, Dom!Billy, Dom/Sub undertones, overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), tongue fucking, vaginal fingering .

Heartbreaker.

It had been just over a week since Tommy Hagen's party, just over a week since Billy had shouted at you and made you cry. Being the wonderful person you are, you had forgiven him. Billy however had not forgiven himself.

Which is how you found yourself lying on his bed, legs hooked over his muscular shoulders, his tongue pressed deep to your dripping core, he was eating you alive; you were sure of it.

"Billy, Billy, Billy…" You pant, arms feeling heavy and boneless as you rake through his curls.

His strong hands hold you about your waist, fingers spread wide covering your abdomen, he was unrelenting, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your exhausted body.

"I can't." You whine desperately, his eyes are burning with lust as he pulls himself away from your swollen clit, face glistening obscenely with your release.

"You can angel, and you will." He growls, two fingers slipping into your puffy cunt, finger fucking you rapidly, making your back arch and your throat constrict with choked sobs. You can feel how soaked the sheets are below you, but try as you might you couldn't muster an ounce of shame.

"Gonna take such good care of you baby." He soothes as another orgasm wracks through you, you reach for him weakly, tongues slipping together tasting your musk.

You cry out, feeling the mushroom head of his hard cock sliding against your over sensitive bud, using your slick to rut and drag, vision whiting out as he pushes in, coming from the penetration alone, nerve endings strung out completely.

"Tell me you're mine" He grunts, brushing your hair back from your flushed face, kissing away your tear tracks.

"M'yours Billy, never gonna stop being yours." You hiccup, velvety inner walls seizing around him again, both of you losing count at this point.

"Mine, always mine." He breathes, pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach, bringing your hips up to meet his pelvis, cock slamming home with ease.

He hauls you up so your back is pressed to his chest, one arm holding you steady across your breasts, the other hand snaking up to press against your throat just how you like.

He's got you positioned so you're facing the mirror on his dresser, you whimper watching him piston into you, like an animal.

"You feel me angel?" He coos, hand pressing on your belly so you can feel the bulge, his cock wrecking you. "Does it feel good?"

You nod vigorously, sniffling pitifully through more sobs of overwhelming pleasure, this was the only way he would ever make you cry again.

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x AFAB Reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove drabble #stranger things #billy stranger things #dom!billy hargove

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ronearoundblindly · 10 months

Note

Evil chuckles *rubs palms together*

Sorry I can't help it!

Imagine his coworker, Bailiff Bucket Barnes, notices that Steve seems to (unintentionally) put a little more detail into his courtroom sketches when reader is in them.

Ohhhhh let the teasing commence 😏

- 👜

court sketch artist!Steve Rogers x lawyer!reader drabble

[super short, just trying to get back into the swing of things. No warnings.]

Steve uses his middle finger to smudge the line of your leg just as the judge adjourns the court for jury deliberations.

It's not quite perfect, so he focuses on fixing the exact angle of your bare calf in those delicate heels.

"Punk," his friend rumbles from the doorway, securing the emptied room, "kinda missed your cue to leave..."

Whoops. Steve hadn't even sketched the judge behind the bench yet.

"Right. Sorry, Buck. I'll get out of your hair."

"Don't bother," Bucky says, stopping Steve's hand as it rushes to replace the charcoal in its tin. "Not expected to take long for a verdict."

The bailiff adjusts his uniform tie and takes a seat next to Steve.

"Ohhh," he coos with a craned neck, "I see why you lingered. 'Bout time you asked her out, ya think? You've been pining over her for six months."

"Have not, jerk," Steve practically squeaks.

Bucky puts up his hands in defeat. "You're right. You're right. It was this time last year that she started with the DA's office."

"I'm not...pining," Steve muses, running a nail through some black buildup on his thumb. "She's just photogenic."

"Then take a picture. With your phone. And then put us out of our misery and use that phone to get her number."

"Us?"

"The poor stenographer lost her bet in the fall. She was so sure you'd make a move after the Kinsey case."

Steve shrugs shyly. "Nah, that was such a big win for her. I bet the office took her out right after--had a party maybe."

"So? There are seven nights a week, big guy. Court is closed two of those days, too."

"Buck, I'm not gonna--"

"Bud, I'm gonna die of old age waiting for you to get your ass off this pew. Shit, my hair will be down to here--" Bucky gestures to below his shoulders "--by the time you--"

"Language," Steve warns.

Bucky relents and settles on a judging look.

After a long pause, he shrugs.

"Fine. Maybe I'll ask her out. She's got great legs."

Steve's head whips up so fast that his blond hair falls across wide eyes. "You wouldn't dare," he bites back.

Another shrug is his only answer.

A door at the back of the court creaks open.

"Barnes, call them back in."

"Damn," Bucky cards his fingers through his dark locks and whistles, "my girl's fast."

Heat flares across Steve's disbelieving frown.

Bailiff Barnes stands up with a chuckle.

"See, when you recreate that look at home, the color you're gonna wanna pick is Fuschia."

No sooner has Bucky opened the double doors than you flit past him and down the aisle.

"Barnes," you nod politely before your eyes meet Steve's.

Your head cocks to the side in surprise. "Mister Rogers."

It's a split-second in time, but Steve loses all ability to form words. He had no idea you knew his name. The smile you flash over your shoulder after setting your briefcase down, too, isn't just a polite smile or a confident 'I've won this case' smile. No. That smile is just for him.

Steve gulps, letting that gleaming gesture sear into his brain so he can sketch it later.

He plucks out his charcoal again.

At least he has this chance to draw the judge behind the bench...and put all the others he forgot on the page, too.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

Oh boy. Yet another mini-series taking up real estate in my mind... Hopefully, none of you guys are taking bets about how long all these things are taking me!! Luckily, this one is pretty straight-forward fluff--which is, of course, how Threadbare started and that ended up ::checks notes:: at 20,000 words... Whoops, indeed...

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x you #law and rogers #steve rogers drabble #steve rogers and bucky barnes #ro answers #👜 anon

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dreamersparacosm · 2 years

Note

can you do a little fic based off ❝ well, honestly i’ve never really had sex before and was kinda hoping you would teach me. ❞ with austin please?

sfw!

note ; *taps mic* hello i am back again with another friends to lover fic bc clearly i didn’t give a fuck abt what that anon had to say SKDJDJD (so sorry bae)

warnings ; talk of sex, losing virginity?

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“What the fuck?”

You shift your weight to your other foot, gnawing at your bottom lip, enough to draw blood, “Uh… well. You know. Like I’ve never really had sex before… and, I don’t know, I was kinda hoping that you would… teach me.”

There. It’s out. Can’t swallow that kind of statement back into your mouth. It lingers in the air, plagues the room and you feel it suffocating your chest. There’s really one of two ways this can go: one, your best friend in the entire world, your confidante, and possibly the boy you’d been in love with for years, agrees to have sex with you for scientific purposes. Two, he tosses you out onto the street, slams the front door behind you, and you never hear from him again.

You’re not sure which is the better option.

He blinks again, swallowing thickly as he scratches the back of his neck. You just stare back at him, unsure of where to move, or if you can even muster enough courage to get out of your chair and motion towards the door. “[Y/N] —“

“Listen, you don’t have to say yes —“

“Well, I’m not gonna say no.”

He leans forward from his position on the couch, spreading his legs open as he props his arms on knees. His ice-blue eyes bore into yours, and you almost shrink into the chair. “…You’re not gonna say no?” Your voice comes out as a squeak. Suddenly, you feel your entire body go limp. Just sitting there like putty.

“No,” He shakes his head, clasping his hands together.

“…Like no ‘no’ or no yes?”

“[Y/N]…” He trails off, giving you a stern look that stops you from continuing to chomp down on your lips. You stop twiddling your thumbs, look at him as he readjusts his pants that are now a little too tight for him. “Like, I just need more context. What are you doing this for?”

“I’m 30, Aus. Thirty. I need to have sex,” And it’s a lot for a Thursday afternoon. He’s not even sure if he’s fully sold, he raises an eyebrow suspiciously and eyes you. It’s not that he’s opposed to the idea — you’re hot, he’s hot, what’s the issue? — it’s just that he never expected his best friend to ask him to take her virginity. Honestly, you never expected it either. “I need to have sex or I’m going to die.”

He snorts at your exaggeration, “I thought you were waiting for marriage.”

“Do you see a ring on my finger?” You hold up your bare ring finger for emphasis, wiggling it in the air, waving it like a white flag that hopefully stops the questions from barreling off his tongue.

“These are fair points,” He muses.

“…So, you’ll fuck me?” You say, lifting your body a bit out of the chair, eyes gleaming with excitement. And he doesn’t want to say no, not at all, because he could never say no to you. It’s a little depressing for him, because the way he saw it, he imagined that maybe, just maybe, he would take your virginity on your wedding day. Not like this. Not with the implication that he’s taking your innocence for someone else to take advantage of. Not with the idea that you’re just using him to ‘get it over with.’

He just bites his tongue, leaves the poisonous words behind, shrugging nonchalantly, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll fuck you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

thank you for joining my 3.5k celly! requests are now closed!

#answered #anon #angelina’s 3.5k celly #austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler angst #austin butler blurb #austin butler fluff #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #austin butler smut #austin butler gif #austin butler elvis

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pullhisteeth · 11 months

Note

okay so… i’m aspec, and i wanted to start off with how much i love how you characterize eddie! his sweet persistent attentiveness is totally what draws me to him. anyway… since you asked for requests, what about eddie reacting to being told reader isn’t ready for sex yet, or maybe that juxtaposed with when they are ready? eddie being patient and happy to hold off… maybe putting an emphasis on nonsexual intimacy or even nudity without it being sexualized? idk just a few ideas, you don’t have to include the aspec stuff if you don’t want but just the reader not being ready and focusing on other ways to feel close to him would be amazing 🥺

hi!!! I found this in my drafts - I am so sorry it took me so long! big love 2 u. <3 (gn!reader, suggestive themes, angst, Eddie being a sweetheart, mention of drugs)

Frustrated, you bring your knees up and kick your comforter down, over your legs and to the end of the bed. The cool air hits your skin like a wave, and it brings enough relief that you can close your eyes for a moment.

The sheets feel like wet sandpaper tonight, clinging to every inch of you. Your pyjamas are nearly as bad.

You turn over and squint through the darkness at the clock beside your bed. It's just past two in the morning, and you huff another irritated noise when you realise you only have four hours until you have to be up for work. You can see it now: you'll drift off, hopefully, at some point in the next few hours, only to be rudely awoken at 6:15 by your alarm. You'll drag yourself into work, where Fiona, the lady you open with on a Friday, will tell you that you look like hell and offer you a modafnil. You'll decline, and when you clock off in the afternoon, you'll head home, fall asleep, and wake in the middle of the night to repeat the process.

You're not sure where she gets the myriad of drugs she seems to carry with her. For a while, you assumed she just had a hefty prescription – she's at least in her late fifties, and age hasn't dissuaded her from smoking a pack a day – but sometimes you catch her at the dishwasher or by the bins out back, swallowing something from another orange bottle. Once, when you were emptying the trash, you found one. It was Xanax.

Maybe there's a drug for this, you think. Because, surely, it's some kind of disorder, a syndrome, something abnormal. Your beautiful, lovely, sexy boyfriend, kind and wild and falling for you, and you still can't find that urge to rip his clothes off.

You turn onto your back again, head slotted between two pillows, and stare blankly at the ceiling, turning over the previous evening in your head. It burns, the embarrassment, like white-hot fire under your skin. Your hair flares, lifting from the hot shame, when you think about his face, the drop of his hands from your waist, the awkward way you let yourself out and came home. He didn't call.

"I'm gonna go clock out."

You reach behind your back to untie your apron, using your elbow to push through the kitchen door back into the diner. Fiona barely turns to acknowledge you from where she's hunched over, polishing a glass, giving a short noise of agreement as you make your way to the staff room. You pull yourself through your routine, throwing the apron in the hamper and shoving your timecard into the machine, before you stop before you reach for your bag.

You realise that you have no way of getting home.

Eddie usually picks you up, but he won't be here today. And you're tired, so tired, too tired to walk home. You'd only finally gotten to sleep a few hours before you woke, just as you'd expected. Your legs feel like lead.

As you mull over your options, you pull your bag over your shoulder and grab your jacket. And when you push the door open, you nearly cry, because sat in his usual spot, right by the door, is your stupid, lovely boyfriend.

He looks up at you when he hears the door, and the first thing you notice is how tired he looks, too. He's a little puffy, almost like he's only just woken up – his hair tells you the same, curls going wild amongst one another, sticking out at every angle. He wears a sad smile as his gaze lingers on you, and you feel yourself nearly crumble under it.

He stands as you make your way over. Just as he does every day, he takes your bag from you and slings it over his own shoulder, and he reaches out and takes your hand, and it's then that you let go.

The tears come quicker than you can stop them, silent, hot rivers running down your face. He tugs gently on your hand, urges you out of the door, not giving his usual quick-whip goodbye to Fiona, and pulls you across the lot to his van.

When he opens the door for you as he always does, helping you in and dropping your bag by your feet, he rubs your knee with one hand and takes your face in the other.

"We're gonna talk about it when we get home, 'kay?" he says, and his voice sounds just as tired as he looks. "Please don't cry."

All you can give him is a nod, but he takes it, squeezing your knee as a quick goodbye before closing the door and jogging around to his side. The ride home is quiet, besides your sniffling, and his hand plants back on your knee for most of it. You look out the window and feel the sun on your face, made hotter as it passes through the glass. Your eyes close and you breathe, and as it paints your skin with a golden heat, you begin to think that maybe this won't be as bad as you've made yourself believe.

You like Eddie's home, perhaps moreso than your own. Yours is lonesome, but Eddie's is full of love. His uncle likes photographs and souvenirs and clutter, and it makes their little trailer feel like the warmest place on earth.

Today, though, it's tainted, edges burned by the memory of the night before. You daren't think about it, too worried about crying more than you already have, but it's difficult when you have to look at the door you slammed in Eddie's face 18 hours ago.

"C'mon," he says, squeezing your thigh and opening his door. You pull your bag onto your knee and do the same, hopping out and following him slowly up the steps. Inside, he takes your bag again, hanging it on a hook by the kitchen, while you take off your sneakers and traipse over to his couch. You don't dare to sit down, though, until he's back by your side pleading with you to.

"What's got you all wound up, hm?" he asks, taking your hand in his, and his voice is like honey, making you want to cry again. You breathe in a short, sharp breath instead and try desperately to ignore the white-hot burn of exhaustion and shame behind your eyes.

You sit and he follows, using his other hand to wipe away the tears as they come. You must look a mess, you think, all tired with huge, dark marks beneath your eyes and cheeks wet from crying. But he's looking at you like he always does, fond as ever.

"Why'd you run off like that last night?" he asks.

"I-" You try to answer, but the words are lost on you, lodged in the thickness of your throat. His arms wind around you and you lean in, lost to the familiarity of it. Your sobs, broken by hiccups and broken breaths, are in freefall.

He soothes you, leaning back so you're lying on his chest. His hands run up and down your back as he kisses the crown of your head and whispers that it'll be okay, that you're okay, we're okay.

"I'm sorry," you say into his t-shirt.

"For what?"

You wish you could tell him, and you wish he wouldn't ask. Isn't it obvious? You stormed out, you slammed the door in his face, you didn't call, you let it get this far, you led him on knowing you'd feel like this.

"For crying on your shirt," you say.

He chuckles and you feel it, the deep rumble of laughter in his chest. He twists underneath you, turning the two of you on your sides to lie facing one another, mostly so he can get a good look at your face.

"I have other shirts," he tells you.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologising."

"Sorry."

He laughs again and you can't help but break a smile.

"So," he begins. "Why'd you go?"

"I just…" You sigh and he sees the way your face twists, contorting into something like frustration, so he eases the grip of his arms around you to let you sit up. You do, leaning on his bent knees, and look up to the ceiling.

"I feel… I feel like I've led you on."

"What?" He sounds surprised, which in turn surprises you, because surely he can see that that's what's happening here.

"Eddie, I don't know how to… I can't explain it."

He doesn't say anything. The couch dips and creaks as he sits up, knees crossed, opposite you, imploring you to try.

"I... I can't give you what I'm meant to."

He looks back at you bewildered, and for a brief flash you feel the burn of frustration. You'd usually find this endearing, but all of this would be easier if he would fill in the blanks by himself.

"I don't want to have sex, Eddie."

You watch the dawning of realisation on his face, the twist and the widening. His eyes search your face as you hold it in, the dam close to bursting again, and then he softens.

"Oh, baby, you should've just said."

He reaches over, a hand on your ankle, holding you there as if to stop you leaving.

How could you ever?

"What do we do?" you ask him after a beat. You're looking at one another, you at him because you're sure this is the final time you'll get the chance, and him at you because he's sure he's never loved anybody like this before in his life.

"What do you mean?"

"Eddie, don't make me-"

"You're not leaving me," he tells you. It's not a question, or a plea, but a statement of fact. You're here, with me. You're not going anywhere. I'm not going to make you go anywhere.

"I don't want to," you say quietly.

"And," he begins, inching closer, taking your waist in his big hands to pull you in. "I'm not leaving you."

He resumes his position on his back, you pressed comfortably to his chest. You feel his heartbeat, quicker than usual, and feel a pang of remorse that you've made him so nervous.

You think back to the evening before - when he'd got handsy, and you'd liked it, but then the clothes had started coming off and you'd freaked, pulling your things into a bag and running out the door before he could stop you - and it's suddenly muddied by distance, a memory trapped somewhere far away.

"I'm just not ready," you tell him, cheek to his chest, feeling his fingers run through your hair.

"'S'okay," he murmurs. "I'll be here if you ever are. Or if you never are. Either way."

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader

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reigenkills · 1 year

Text

girl why is there plot

You keep an ear out for news of the old man and his cursed son Elrick. Being a cursed creature yourself, you've have some sense of solidarity for your fellow unfortunate bastards. And while you don't trust yourself not to go into a depression nap if you try only to fail to save this kid, you still hold on to some hope that he's somehow gonna pull through with this.

A day and a half after the incident at the bar, you hear from local gossip that Elrick is still holding on. Somehow. Whatever's going on with him, ol' Wolfie himself hasn't come to collect yet.

Maybe it's not his time. Death had said something about not meddling with the affairs of life unless it concerned him, and for all that you've bit him, he's refrained from hurting you too badly even though you know full well he could. You don't know all the rules and regulations of being death incarnate, but there must be some line in the sand he can't cross.

You crack the Evil Witch's spellbook and start hunting down whatever you can find that can counter a sleeping spell.

By the afternoon, you've got little scraps of notes bookmarking possible answers. There's, of course, the classic cure-all - True Love's Kiss; there's the Fountain of Youth, where someone gives a part of their lifespan to someone else, but it won't break the sleeping spell, only buy time until you find another solution; there's a Crossroads Deal, where for a price, any spell can be broken; and there's, of course, finding the original spell caster and having them break the curse.

Things aren't promising, but at least you've got something.

You ask Muffet for directions to Elrick's house. She draws you a map on a napkin and tells you to mind the potholes on the way.

The boy's family lives in a farmhouse in the outskirts of Poisonapple. According to Muffet, the father is a farmer, Elrick's older brother is a Huntsman, and Elrick himself is a shepherd boy. Less than ideal for whatever his beau's family's status is. You can see why he'd get screwed over.

You trudge down the pathway to the farmhouse, pulling your hood up as a cold breeze blows by. The sky is heavy with clouds tonight, and you can hear the rumble of thunder in the distance. Hopefully you won't get caught in the storm on your way back to your inn.

The lamps hanging from the farmhouse creak and rattle in the wind. You eye them warily, stepping away from them, and raise your fist to knock on the front door.

A tall, burly, man with tired eyes opens it for you. He looks like he hasn't slept in days, and it shows in his voice when he croaks out: "Yes?"

"I don't have a clear cut answer for how to wake your brother up, but I might have some things that can help," you say.

The Huntsman narrows his eyes at you, studying you from head to foot. "You don't look like no witch."

"I'm not, I just know some magic." Just like you know how to hit a drum. No training and no intricate knowledge of tips and tricks, but you know you have to hit it in order to make a noise. It's not the best method for magic, but as long as you follow the instructions, you should be fine. It's worked for you so far.

The Huntsman grunts. After a moment, he steps aside and lets you in.

You pull your hood off and let out a sigh of relief, realizing you'd been freezing in the cold outside once the warmth of the house hits you.

"What do we do?" The Huntsman asks.

"I was told you live with your father," you say. "I think we should discuss this with him."

The Huntsman grunts again, but he leads you to the living room and ushers you to sit. He disappears into a hallway right after, and you hear a door open; he's in the backyard, probably. As you wait, you pull out your spellbook from your satchel, arranging the notes you've pinned between the pages on the table.

The Hunstman returns with his father a few minutes later. The old man's eyes widen as he recognizes you.

"Witch," he says.

"I'm a mercenary, not a witch," you say. "I just have some knowledge from dealing with witches."

"You can help us?"

"I have some terms, first."

The old man nods, quickly moving to sit down while his eldest son eyes you with suspicion and remains standing.

"When you address me, please say can you, or may you, or please," you say. "I am not a dog. Don't tell me what to do so flippantly."

"...and?" the Huntsman asks.

"That's it. Overstep and I'm out the door." You smile thinly. "All I ask is some politeness."

"Huh." The man lets out a huff and takes the seat beside his father. "Okay, can you help us?"

You nod, and present to them your notes, turning the papers around so they can read it, as they're both sitting across you. "Obviously, there's True Love's Kiss, but we have no idea how we can contact your son's beloved, and we might not have enough time to save him if we kidnap her. The Fountain of Youth can buy us some time, but it swaps a portion of someone's lifespan for someone else's."

"That wouldn't wake my brother up, would it?" the Huntsman asks.

"No, it's a transference spell. Nothing to do with breaking curses, but it'll reset our clock." You push a sheet of paper towards them. "This one isn't the most optimal, but I've worked many a job concerning Crossroads Deals. As long as you pay up, you can just about ask for anything you want."

"How much is the payment?" the old man asks, wringing his hands together.

You glance to the Huntsman with some pity. He, at least, seems to know what a Crossroads Deal entails. "It's a what. It's demon magic. They ask for your soul."

The old man sags back in his seat. Alarmingly, a deep look of thought passes over his face. The Huntsman flips the page over to hide the instructions on a Deal away. "You got anything else?"

"We can find the original spellcaster and get them to undo the curse," you say.

The Huntsman's face falls. There are barely any witches in the area, so if the aristocratic family that's cursed his brother got a spell from one, they probably live miles from here. Maybe they're from a completely different island, even.

"Could you find the spellcaster?" he asks.

"I could try, but your brother doesn't have enough time," you say. He nods jerkily, frowning down at the table in silence. You lean back in your seat and turn your attention to the window, watching the storm and giving the father and son some privacy.

The Huntsman clears his throat. "Can you…give us some space?"

"Of course." You rise from your seat, taking your spellbook and your notes and tucking them under your arm. "I'll be outside."

Outside is cold and windy, and half of the lamps have already blown out from the chilly draft around you. You draw your hood up over your head again and stuff your spellbook back in your satchel, drawing the rest of your cloak closer to yourself.

A gust of wind snuffs the rest of the lamps at the front of the house out. In the dim light, you can barely see anything.

There's a flash of lightning to your left. You turn, attention instinctively caught by light, and find yourself looking up at the tall shadow that looms over you.

Twin pinpricks of red stare down at you. In the cold and the dark, you remember exactly how menacing Death can be when he wants.

"Mercenary," he greets.

"Señor Muerte," you say, because you've got manners and he's probably on duty and not in the mood to mess with you, if he's so serious. "So the boy dies, then, after all?"

He chuckles, a low throaty sound that comes out more intimidating than mirthful. "We'll see. His brother's still thinking things over."

"So you're…waiting to see if he does?" you ask. "And then you're scaring the dad into a heart attack?"

"They can't see me, Mercenary. You only can because I want you to." he says. "And Death is patient. I always wait."

"I thought that was supposed to be Love is patient." You snort. "So the kid's either gonna live or die tonight depending on what his brother decides?"

"Yep," he says. "Would have been a straightforward visit if you hadn't come here telling them about the Fountain of Youth, but, look at you. Altruistic little thing that you are."

Ah, shit, is he here to kick your ass for meddling with death or something?

"At ease, Mercenary," he says, laughing slightly. "I'm not going to collect your soul just yet. You didn't completely overturn the balance of nature, don't flatter yourself like that."

"I thought you just, like, knew when it's people's time."

"I do. Every action has its equal opposite reaction, and when people make certain choices, they shape and change their paths," Death says. "Sometimes those paths get them killed, sometimes they don't. When they're on track to kick the bucket, I come fetch them."

"So is Fate, like, bullshit?"

"No, my sister's very real. She's a lot less complicated than you people think she is, though."

You hum, nodding. That…makes sense, you suppose. And it's somewhat comforting to know free will does exist, to some extent.

There's a clatter behind you. You look up just in time as the breeze bangs a lamp against the underside of the overhang. Ugh. It'll be a strong storm tonight.

"Don't suppose I can hitch a ride for when you do your whole disappearing act," you say.

"Hah, tough shit," Death says. "Walk in the rain on your own; maybe then I can snatch you off this mortal coil a little earlier."

"Pipe dream if I've ever heard one, lobo." You chuckle. "You're not getting my soul until I wring every ounce of misery from it by my own damn hands."

"Eh, your lifespans are barely anything to me."

"Yeah, yeah, flex being the grim reaper or whatever." You turn around to glance in the house, and smile as you spot the Huntsman by the window. You know he probably can't hear you over the wind, but you ask anyway: "Well?"

The man blinks, like he's waking from a trance. He moves away from the window and opens the door, beckoning you back inside. Behind you, you can hear Death move, but just as he's said, the Huntsman doesn't appear to notice him.

He steps in with you, ducking under the doorway carefully. You have half a mind to ask if it's possible for him to bump into it if he's somewhat incorporeal, but you'd probably look like you're talking to thin air in front of the Huntsman.

"So?" you ask the Huntsman instead.

"Uh - my dad and I talked," he says, motioning to where his father was still sitting on the couch, his hands wrung together and a concerned, but resigned look on his face. "We want to buy some time for Elrick first."

"Fountain of Youth, then?"

"Yes," he says. "I'll swap a week of my life for Elrick."

"And after?"

"We want you to find the one who made his curse," he says. "But - we probably can't pay you in money, but we can give you our harvest - "

You raise a hand, motioning for him to stop. He does.

"Even I don't know if I can find this spellcaster on time. Think about that if I'm successful," you say.

Death leans over to you and says: "Not really selling your services as a mercenary there."

"My skills are more suited for clean-up," you say, both as an answer and a clarification for Elrick's family. "Not detective work."

"That's fine," the old man by the couch says. "Please just help us."

"I'll do what I can." You turn to the Huntsman. "Now, the Fountain of Youth?"

He nods. "Tell me what to do."

You've packed spell ingredients in your satchel just in case they chose to do the Fountain of Youth. You wouldn't have brought it up if you didn't think there was a possibility they wouldn't bite. So you spend the next few minutes throwing yarrow, lavender, and dragonfly wings into a bowl and mashing it all into a poultice. Afterwards, you pull out a dagger from your boot and motion for the Huntsman's hand.

"I need you and your brother's blood," you say. He warily offers you his palm, and you pull it closer so you can get to his lower arm, cutting a thin line near the elbow and catching the dribble of blood in the bowl. You do the same to the unconscious Elrick, mix everything again, and pour the mixture into two different glasses.

The blood-mash-potion is barely a few centimeters from the bottom of the glasses. The Huntsman looks at you skeptically.

"You said a week," you say. "You underestimate how human lifespans can be."

Behind you, leaning on the wall, though nobody else can see him, Death chuckles.

The father lifts the glass up to his unconscious son's lips while the Huntsman, though grimacing, knocks the whole thing back. A flash of cold sneaks up behind you, and the candles in the room flicker. You look up just in time as Death approaches and reaches a claw out.

As both Elrick and the Huntsman drink, a faint, thin line of gold loops around their necks. Your eyes widen, though neither the Huntsman nor his father seem to see the glowing string. Death slowly, carefully, grazes it with the tip of a sharp nail, and the color melts into bright, searing red, before it vanishes from existence.

"I honor this exchange," he declares. The candles in the room die out, and in the next instance, spring back into brightness, strong and steady.

Oh. Oh. That's why he stuck around. Because an exchange of lifespans means someone's trading in death for that missing life.

"There," you say. "It's done."

"And…Elrick's got a week?"

You glance towards Death as discreetly as you can.

"About a week and two days, you flubbed the amount of blood," he says.

"About a week and two days, made sure to give us a bit of wiggle room," you say.

Death lets out a bark of laughter. "Hack."

"I'll get to looking for that spellcaster as soon as I can," you say. "I'll try to get correspondence sent in a few days."

"Thank you," the father says, the most relieved you've seen him. "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me yet," you say, eyeing Elrick's sleeping form. He looks way better, less starved, but it'll only be for nine days.

You have to work fast.

#puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the last wish #muerte x reader #fic #fanfiction

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munsonownsmyass · 11 months

Text

Matt Murdock x tattoo artist reader

Summary: Finally working at the place of your dreams, you get the hardest client of your career.

Notes: When I read The Sweetest Pain (and part two) from @e-dubbc11 it sparked something in me. So I really wanted to make a little piece too. This one takes place in Billy's shop and the stories are intertwined, but can be read separately.

Warning: None. Just some flirting, pining and yearning for hot Matt. What?! So no spice in 3.8K words?! No, sorry. But there will be in part two (if anyone wants a part two, that is 😅)

Words: 3.8K

Standing outside the Anvil Tattoo Shop, you take a deep breath. For longer than you remember, you’ve wanted to be a tattoo artist. For years, you’ve practiced and been working in small, sleezy parlors, anything to get some experience. It had all been leading up to this. Hopefully a place at one of the finest shops you’ve seen.

Whenever you’ve walked past, you’ve been dreaming about working here. The owner, Billy and his employees are immaculate in their work, truly amazing and you want to be part of their team. With another deep breath, you pull yourself together and walk through the doors.

It’s still early, so there’s only three guys there. Billy you recognize instantly, but the other two you haven’t seen before. They all raise their gaze as you walk up to the counter.

“What can I do for you?” Billy asks, looking up from his sketch.

“I was hoping to get a job. I… I love your shop and admire your work so much and I want to be just as great as you some day, so-“ You stop, mentally scolding yourself over how awkward you are. Word vomit as if you’re some crazy fan. Hugging your folder full of your drawings and tattoos, you look to the men before you. “Sorry. I just-”

“Let me see.” Billy gestures to the folder and you hand it to him, hoping it’s good enough to land you a spot in his shop. “Why do you want to be a tattoo artist?”

“Because I’ve been through so much shit in my life and I’ve only ever felt happy when I draw… Or get a tattoo.” You chuckle softly, looking at Billy as he goes through your stuff. “Getting a tattoo is pain, but it’s a pain you control. It’s therapeutic. So whether I’m the one wielding the needle or getting a new piece on my skin, it’s like therapy. It’s something I can control.”

Billy stops and look at you, his eyes looking you over. You see in his eyes that he gets it, that he too have been through some shit in his life. And maybe that’s why no more than 10 minutes later you’ve signed a contract to work at Anvil Tattoo Shop.

The first few days go by so fast. You get your own space and some new gear, watching as Billy works. One of his buddies, Frank, lets you do a little piece on him so they can see how you work. Billy looks over your shoulder at the little skull you’re tattooing onto Frank’s chest.

“Your linework is amazing. You’re already on your way to being a great artist, Shortcake.” Billy rubs your back softly before he walks back to his own station. You blush, thinking this is probably the best day ever in your life so far.

“Easy there, kiddo. Billy is taken.” Frank whispers with a smile, looking at your flushed cheeks. You just laugh, before putting the needle back to Frank's skin.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s not my type.”

You could swear you hear Frank's heart stop for a second. You just grin, dipping the needle again, before tattooing again. “Okay, he is hot. Even a blind person could see that, but… I dunno, just not what I’m looking for.”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that before.” Frank chuckles, looking over at Billy. “I’m gonna rub that in his face.”

“Oh, I believe you.” You both grin as you finish up your work.

You’ve been there for almost a week now, when a new client walks in. Billy had already said that the next one through the doors would be yours and you’ve been sitting on the edge of your seat all morning. But your mood falters when you see his cane and glasses.

“I’m sorry, Sir, but this is a tattoo shop, just in case you didn’t see it. Fuck, I mean-” You bite your tongue, ready to bury yourself in a hole. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He chuckles, showing off a beautiful smile that leaves you weak in the knees.

“My brain stops working around hot guys.” You chuckle, but then shake your head, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole at this point. So fucking embarrassing. “Fuck. I’m sorry. Again. Look, I can get another artist for you.”

“I think you’ll be just fine.” He chuckles. Lucky for you, he seems to find your awkwardness adorable. You look to Billy, silently asking if it’s okay or if he’d rather pull you from this client, but all you see is him and Frank trying not to laugh.

“Okay, good. So what can we do for you today?”

“A tattoo would be nice.” He grins playfully and you hate the way you react to it.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place then.” You bite your lip, hating the fact that your first real client is this hunk of a man and not just some random girl. You really don’t want to make a fool of yourself but it seems like that ship has already sailed. “Right, if you come with me, we can discuss the design.”

“Would you mind?” He extends his arm for you to take, so you do, guiding him to a little desk where he can sit while you draw.

“Looks like we know what her type is now.” Frank whispers, making Billy break. They both laugh and you flip them off, making a mental note to kick their asses later.

“Hey Frank.” The man says, smiling in Frank's direction.

“Hey there Red. Didn’t picture you as a tattoo guy.”

“I’m full of surprises.” He smirks and you sense there’s some kind of inside joke between the men, especially when you see the way Frank just smiles, before he turns back towards Billy.

“So, uhm…”

“Matt.”

“Matt.” You say softly, thankful he is blind and can’t see the heavy blush on your cheeks or the way your eyes study his face. He is really handsome and you're instantly drawn to his lips. Really beautiful lips. This is bad. You should focus.

“What type of tattoo were you looking to get?” You question, but you’re not even sure you hear the answer. Something something catholic. Look at that jawline. And that scruff. Wonder how he’d look with a full beard?

“Okay, good good.” You cough, scribbling something down on paper. Matt laughs, placing one of his hands on your arm.

“You want me to repeat it?” He smirks. Shit. He knows. Of course he knows. He probably has this effect on every woman he meets.

“Yeah, that would be nice. Just so I’m sure we agree.” You say, this time really listening to him. You love the idea he has, already doing a little sketch as you talk. It’s a typical catholic tattoo, a cross, rosary and a text, but you’re determined to make this great and special.

Soon you’ve done talking, already have a time booked and an outline to work with. As Matt leaves the shop, you sigh at the counter, not being able to think about anything else than what color his eyes might be. Frank and Billy come up on either side of you, both with shiteating grins.

“You want me to help with the sketch? I think I paid more attention than you did.” Billy grins and Frank cracks up.

“Fuck off. Fuck all the way off.” You flip them the finger before walking back to your desk. This was probably going to be the hardest job in your career.

When Matt returns a few days later for his first appointment, you’re nervous. Not just because you’re going to be so close to the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but also because you want to do a good job. You want to do Billy proud and Matt trusts you. He’s put more trust in you than anyone before. You’ve thought about it, him not being able to even know what you’re putting on his skin. So you’ve done something you never thought you’d do.

With help from an old artistic friend, you’ve managed to make a sketch he can feel. Each line is raised from the paper, almost like braille. You know he probably can’t make out everything, but at least it’s something. You slide the sketch over to Matt and watch as his fingers touch the paper.

“I know it’s not perfect, but I hope you can feel some of it.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, studying his face. He smiles as his fingers dance over the sketch and you see the surprise on his face when he reaches the text, made in braille. You already had another sketch with the actual text, this one was just for Matt.

“You-” He looks up, his eyes almost finding yours as he searches for the right words to say. “This is incredible. Thank you. You didn’t have to do all that for me.”

“Yeah, well… I know how much a tattoo can mean to a person and it’s something you’re gonna have with you forever, so… wanted you to know what I made for you.” You shrug, blushing again when you see the smile on Matt’s face.

“It’s perfect. And the most thoughtful thing anyone has done for me.” His hand lands on yours, giving it a soft squeeze. “So thank you. Well, should we get started then?”

“I’m ready when you are. Just let me prepare the stencil.”

You lead him to the chair before walking over to get the stencil ready. You hear Billy and Andy snicker softly, but you try to ignore them. But when you turn around, you stop dead in your tracks. There he is, shirtless. His body is beyond what you could even conjure up in your mind, muscular and hard. So hard.

You’re not a believer, but you almost feel like thanking God for bestowing Matt and his perfect body upon you. You praise yourself lucky he wants the tattoo on his back, cause if he had faced you, you’d never get it done.

After everything is prepped and Matt is ready, you start. He doesn’t even flinch as the needle pierces the skin.

“Just tell me if it hurts and you need a break. It is a big piece for a first tattoo.”

“I’m used to pain.” He smiles over his shoulder before laying down again and you continue your work. Billy walks over every now and then, complimenting your work. You’re happy for the praise, you really are, but you barely notice him, all your attention on Matt. How he breathes softly as you work, a small sigh or groan if you hit a sensitive spot.

“You have a very gentle touch.” He says at one point and you almost combust, thoughts about how you wish you could have your hands on Matt in a not so gentle manner. But you just bite your lip, trying not to say anything.

“You making Matt feel good over there, Shortcake?” Billy teases and you just shoot him a grin, shaking your head.

“Are you jealous?” You ask, making sure to look him in the eyes as you dip your needle. “I can do you once I’m done with Matt.”

“Oh, you got a deal.” He grins and you turn your attention back to Matt. It was all just for fun, both because he was your boss and he had a girl. But you enjoyed the playful banter and flirting.

All too soon you’re done with the first session and clean up Matt’s tattoo. You’re really proud of it so far and you make sure to tell Matt all about it, trying to give him a mental image of how it looks. At the counter, as you make his next appointment, he leans in close.

“So you and Billy… Are you dating?”

“What? No!” You say a little too loud, causing Andy to chuckle as Billy feign being hurt. You mouth a sorry before looking at Matt again. “No, we’re not. I’m single. Very single.”

“Good to know.” He gives you another one of his radiant smiles, before taking the card with the time of his next appointment. At the door he pauses. “So. How am I supposed to care for this when it’s on my back?”

“Oh, uhm… Maybe a friend… or your girlfriend can help you?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend. I’m very single too.” With a grin, he leaves the shop and you don’t even try to hide the grin on your face. He’s cute, single and you’re pretty sure he just maybe a subtle, but lewd suggestion. Oh, you’re definitely in trouble.

The next few days you try to forget about your hot client and luckily, Billy has some clients come in with wishes that match your style. So you emerge yourself in work, trying to make the days go faster.

When you walk into work, everyone else is already busy with clients. You greet them and see Billy’s girl is in for her second session. You’ve been dying to meet her, so you walk over. But before you say hi, her beautiful tattoo steals your attention. Billy’s work is always beautiful, but this octopus is something else. You lean in close to really see all the fine details, putting your hand on Billy’s shoulder very carefully.

“Wow! Billy, that’s incredible.” You say with a big smile.

“Thanks…” He pauses and looks up at you. “Shortcake, this is my sweet girl. Baby, this is my new artist, Shortcake.”

She extends her hand and you shake it, noticing the beautiful rose tattooed on the back of her hand. “Hi there. It’s nice to meet you.”

You could see what Billy saw in her. Beautiful and she seemed kind. And she did have very good taste in tattoos, so you already knew you’d like her too.

“Oh jeez, I should have recognized you from your pictures. Why didn’t you tell me she was coming in today, Billy?! It’s nice to meet you too.” You say, genuinely happy to finally meet her.

Sitting down at your station, you pull out some sketches for tonight’s client. “Wish I’d known she came though, so I could have made a better impression.” You gesture to your clothes and makeup which was very basic this evening.

Billy just smiles before looking over his shoulder. “You always look good.”

“Aw, thank you.” You smile with a shy shrug. “You too, by the way. Love the new hair.”

You don’t even think about it, always being flirty by nature, so for the rest of the evening you and Billy keep it up, all for fun of course. Your mind is still on Matt and your appointment tomorrow. You can’t wait to see him again.

“You’re daydreaming again.” You hear Billy say as he keeps working on Rose. “Thinking about anyone special?” He grins and you know he’s referring to Matt.

“Oh, you know there’s only one guy for me.” You wink at him, before returning to your client. You focus on your work, but the mention of your name makes you look up in time to see Rose walk out the shop.

“Done already?”

“She was just tired.” He looks after her and you don’t press him further and just return to your client.

One of your favorite things was to sleep in, just laying in bed, maybe reading a good book. And even though you had no plans before later today, you had woken up at dusk, unable to fall back to sleep. Today was Matt’s second appointment. A small part of you had thought about being slow today, dragging it out so he had to come back.

You had heard about Billy’s little trick with Rose, making sure she’d come back. You noticed it quickly. He works fast, but not with her. It was kinda cute. So maybe you could do the same? No, it wouldn’t be proper. You shake the thought as you get ready, deciding to head to the shop early. Better to use your time cleaning than just pace your apartment.

Getting there, you restock on colors, gloves, needles. Clean around your station and the others too. When Billy walks in, he seems pleasantly surprised, but also has a worried look on his face.

“You okay there, Shortcake?” He walks closer, leaning against the counter as he looks at you.

“Yeah, just… Getting ready for Ma- my appointment. Thought I’d clean a bit.” You smile, continuing to sweep the floor. But Billy's hand on yours stops you.

“I can see you’re not.” He takes the broom from you and puts it aside, getting you to sit down on your chair. “You really like this guy?”

“Well, I don’t have to.” You shrug, looking away. Even though Billy has mixed business with pleasure, it doesn't make it okay for you to do it too. He and Rose had been friends for years, so that was different. “I know it would be unprofessional, so-”

With raised brows, Billy looks at you and for a minute you’re not sure if he truly is offended. But his face makes you giggle. “I’m sorry, Billy. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He reassures you as he pulls you in for a quick hug, before he lets you go again. “You’re talented and you’ll do great. And if that Murdock guy doesn’t like you back, he’s a fool. Now, back to work.”

He pats your back as you walk away and returns to his own stuff. You look over your shoulder, thankful for Billy and for him taking a chance on you.

Walking through the doors to the Anvil Tattoo Shop was the highlight of Matt’s week. Ever since the last appointment, he had been thinking about you. Besides being one of the most thoughtful women he’d ever met, you were funny, flirty and smart.

Throughout the session he had a hard time focusing with your hands on him. Surprisingly gentle, considering the needle in your hand. He hadn’t felt the pain, not really, too focused on you. How your heart would beat faster whenever he touched you or gave you a compliment. How your blood would rush to your cheeks at his smile. But most importantly he was surprised at how much he loved his name on your lips.

“I’m ready for you, Matt.” You say softly and Matt has to fight not to smile like a fool at your sweet voice. He follows you to the chair, smirking as he hears the way your breath hitch at seeing his bare chest.

Like the last time, time flies by in the chair. He should feel bad for being here, for enjoying your company as you defile his skin, but he doesn’t. He’ll atone for it later. Atone for the impure thoughts about you.

He knew he would feel everything more given his heightened senses, but this he would never have expected. How soft your touch is, how your breath ghost over his skin when you lean in closer. Your body pressed against his all while inflicting him with this sweet pain.

Between your flirty remarks and your genuine attempt to get to know him, you ask if he’s okay. How can he even answer that? Now that he’s felt this, he will never be okay again. He is exposed in a way he’s never been before, completely at your mercy.

“How’s it going here?” Billy asks as he inspects the tattoo. There’s about an hour's work left and you’re so happy with what you’ve done so far and by the look on Billy’s face, he's proud of your work too.

“With me or her?” Matt questions, making you smile again. “Cause even though I’m no stranger to pain, it’s starting to hurt a little.”

You all laugh and before you can stop yourself, you gently caress Matt’s arm, promising him it’s over soon. Billy gives you a soft pat on the back and notices how some of your hair has gotten loose, so he tugs it back behind your ear, so it’s not blurring your vision.

“Don’t worry, Matt. I’m sure she’ll make it up to you.” Billy winks up at Matt and you can’t help but play along.

“Oh, you know me, Billy. Always leave ‘em feeling good.”

He just about to say something back, when you hear Rose call him from the counter. You’d been so busy with Matt and Billy, neither of you had noticed her come in. She seems upset, so Billy quickly leaves you to your work and follows her out.

“You know what's happening?” Andy asks quietly and you just shake your head. You’re suddenly nervous on Billy’s behalf. You know he’s in love with Rose, that’s clear to see, so you really hope there aren't any problems.

“So, if Billy isn’t your type, who is?” Matt’s question takes you by surprise. You had never mentioned that to anyone besides Frank.

“Ehm, well… I’ve always had a thing for mysterious guys with red glasses. And I do have a thing for eyes, especially if they’re-” you drag out the last word, watching Matt smile as he removes his glasses, revealing the most beautiful hazel eyes you’ve ever seen, “-hazel. I was gonna say that, you know.”

“Oh, I believe you.”

You work a little more, seeing out of the corner of your eye how Andy is making his way to the door, trying to eavesdrop on Billy and Rose. Dipping the needle again, you sigh. “I hope he’s not in trouble.”

“He’s not anymore.”

Before you can ask how he knows, they return and everyone in the shop pretends nothing is wrong. When you find out the reason behind Rose being upset, you could kick yourself. You apologize to her several times, promising you didn’t mean anything with the flirting. It’s in your nature, but you promise not to do it again.

Everything seems to fall into place and you finish up Matt’s tattoo. It’s beautiful, if you had to say so yourself and you knew Matt would love it when you tell him about it.

“You know-” he starts, smiling softly, “- the last time it was quite hard to do the aftercare properly. And my friend Foggy was not too pleased with rubbing my back.”

“Well, we can’t have that. So what do you suggest then?” You laugh seductively.

“What if I buy you dinner?” He gives you a flirty smile, making your heart beat hard in your chest. “Then you can tell me all about the after care or… You could show me?”

“Dinner sounds great.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks burn. “But I’m not off until 9.”

“I can take your last client.” Billy says behind you. “She can be ready at 7.”

You look over at Billy with his arms around Rose, both of them giving you a big smile. You mouth a thank you, before returning to Matt to discuss the details about tonight. When he leaves, you can’t help but smile. Dream job and maybe soon, a dream man. You couldn’t really imagine life getting any better than this.

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