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twistedstxrs · 2 years

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Name: Steve Harrington

Nickname: Dingus, Pretty Boy

Alias: King Steve

Birthday: 1966

Age: 17-19+

Sexuality: Bisexual, Biromantic.

Location: Harrington house, Hawkins, Indiana

Species: Human

Powers: None

Occupation: Family Video employee, Scoops Ahoy employee (formerly) Student at Hawkins High School (formerly)

Height: 5′11″

Weight: 163 lbs

Eye Color: Brown

Hair color: Brunette

Piercings: None

Tattoos: None

Scars: A few

Faceclaim: Joe Keery

Biography

Steve Harrington was born in 1966 to Mr. and Mrs. Harrington in Hawkins, Indiana. His father owned an unknown business that paid predominantly well, giving Steve a large house and pool. This, however, didn't improve his relationship with his son, as Steve refers to his father as a "grade A asshole". Steve began attending Hawkins High School around 1981, eventually befriending Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins. His growing popularity landed him many girlfriends, including Laurie, Amy, and Becky. However, Steve has alluded that they were merely superficial. Eventually he became the boyfriend of Nancy Wheeler. When Nancy's best friend, Barbara Holland, disappeared, she became distant and Steve thought she was cheating with Jonathan Byers. Following a few ignorant actions, Steve had a change of heart, told his friends off and set out to make things right. By coincidence, he ended up heroically saving the day and reconciled with his girlfriend.

In 1984, following a falling-out with Nancy, Steve became a proper ally to the main party, especially Dustin, with whom he formed an unlikely friendship. He became a sort of authority figure for the party and solidified himself into becoming a major player in the battle against the Mind Flayer. Also in 1984, Steve attended Mrs. Click's history class two days a week with a band student, Robin Buckley, though he never acknowledged her existence. Steve always had the same breakfast; bacon, egg, and cheese on a sesame bagel, and constantly arrived late to class. Steve would attract the attention of Robin's crush, Tammy Thompson, making Robin jealous, which Steve was unaware of, as he did not return Tammy's affections.

In 1985, Steve would get a job at Scoops Ahoy at the newly-opened Starcourt Mall, working with a former classmate of his, Robin Buckley. Steve would help Dustin translate a secret Russian transmission, along with Robin's help, and discover there Russians in Hawkins, working underneath Starcourt. Working with Dustin, Robin, and Lucas's younger sister, Erica, Steve discovered the Russians were trying to reopen a portal to the Upside Down. Steve would also form a friendship with Robin and later accept her sexuality. Steve later learned of the Mind Flayer's return and helped the rest of the Party battle against it until the gate was closed again. Three months later, Steve continued to remain best friends with Robin as they applied for new jobs at Family Video

Personality

Prior to dating Nancy, Steve was well known among his peers as a popular boy with a terrible personality.

He displayed some insecurities, as he instantly believed Nancy was sleeping with Jonathan when he saw them together in her bedroom. Despite his flaws, Steve shows that he has a brave side and truly cares about Nancy, as he helped her beat the Monster. A month later, it is revealed that Steve and Nancy purchased Jonathan a new camera to replace the one he and Tommy broke.

Between his breakup with Nancy and Billy Hargrove quickly taking over his status as 'King Bee' and most popular boy, Steve was at a low point emotionally. While trying to make amends with Nancy, Dustin intercepted him and roped him into helping catch D'Artagnan. The boys quickly bond, and Steve is shown to have a more parental or mentoring side as he gives Dustin relationship advice. Steve took on the role of 'babysitter' for the kids and was willing to put himself in danger to protect them. He's far more kind and responsible than he used to be.

In 1985, Steve is a shadow of what he once was. Aside from his sarcasm and recklessness, a lot of his traits that he displayed in his high school years have disappeared from him. He's been shown to be incredibly awkward and unsuccessful with the girls he serves at Scoops Ahoy, and the only positive female relationship he seems to have is with his coworker Robin. His friendship with Dustin is still strong, if not stronger, and he seems to be on good terms with the rest of the Hawkins gang. Steve is also shown to be more kind-hearted and tolerant of things he used to poke fun of. Aside from engaging in nerd culture, he's also shed his homophobic views, which is shown when he still accepts Robin as a friend after she comes out to him.

Skills

One of Steve's incredible skills is his proficiency with his spiked bat. His adeptness with his bat was revealed when he displayed significant prowess in fending off the vicious Demogorgon that was attacking the Byers house. Steve used his spiked bat again during the events at the junkyard where he was almost overwhelmed in an ambush by the demodogs, if not for defending himself with it.

He was also shown to be physically robust during his fistfight with Billy, dealing some quick blows to defend Lucas. And even though he received major injuries in the process, Steve was still able to help enter and guide the kids out of the demodogs' tunnel after setting it afire. He is also able to knock out a Soviet soldier with a phone in a fight.

Relationships

Familial

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington: It is implied Steve doesn’t have a close relationship with his parents, or at the very least his father. While his parents were out of town, he held a party at their house without their knowledge. He later feared having to tell the police about the party, the reason being that his father was an “asshole”. In 1984, while working on a job resume, Steve tells Nancy that he will likely end up working for his father, something he didn’t seem very enthusiastic about. In 1985, in an effort to "teach him a lesson", his father did not allow Steve to work for him, which resulted in Steve getting a job at Scoops Ahoy. After the closure of Starcourt Mall, Steve put his mother as a reference in his resume when applying for a job at Family Video.

Non-Familial

Robin Buckley: Robin and Steve attended Hawkins High School together. Though Steve didn't know her during his schooling, they eventually became friends after working together at Scoops Ahoy. At first, they expressed a dislike towards one another. Robin would tease his attempts at flirting, and Steve judged her for participating in stereotypical uncool activities, such as theater and band. However, once swept into the mystery of the Russian messages together, the two learned more about each other and became closer. Steve started to develop feelings for Robin, despite previously dismissing her as "not [his] type" while talking with Dustin. While held captive for their interrogation by the Russians, Robin and Steve are clearly seen to care about each other’s well-being and enjoy each other’s company, talking and laughing together while alone. Once rescued, the duo shared an emotional moment on a bathroom floor where Steve decided to confess his love for Robin. Though she rejected him and came out as lesbian, Steve accepted her as a friend. They remained close friends after the Battle of Starcourt Mall and are seen three months later getting a new job at Family Video together, with Robin helping Steve get the job.

Billy Hargrove: Billy Hargrove was an antagonist to Steve and quite provocative from the day they met. After Billy's arrival to Hawkins High School, he was quick to gain reputation from the other students and ignited a rivalry with Steve after breaking his keg standing record. Even though Steve didn't bother much about his fame, Billy was always quick to taunt him for his failures, such as losing against him in basketball and failing to deal with his broken relationship with Nancy. Ultimately, Steve realized Billy's violent nature when he returned to the Byers residence to forcefully take Max and threatened the boys. This prompted Steve to intervene and a fistfight ensued. While Steve managed to protect the boys, Billy brutally wounded him before he was sedated. In 1985, after learning that Billy was one of the very people possessed by the Mind Flayer, Steve protected the kids from him by crashing into Billy's car before Billy could ram over the kids as they tried to escape Starcourt Mall. After the Mind Flayer's defeat, it is unknown how Steve felt about Billy's sacrifice to protect the kids.

Nancy Wheeler: Steve and Nancy first began seeing each other shortly before the events of the first season. While Nancy initially believed that Steve wasn’t serious about their relationship, this turned out to not be the case. In truth, Steve really loved Nancy, claiming she’s “not like other girls”. After having sex at a party held at Steve’s house, they officially entered a relationship. However, when Nancy became distant due to the disappearance of her friend Barb, Steve grew worried. When he visited her house to check on her, he witnessed Nancy and Jonathan together in her room, making him believe she was cheating. When Nancy confronted him, Steve gave her a chance to explain herself, though, due to the extraordinary nature of the events, she was unable to. After realizing his mistakes, he went to the Byers’ house in order to apologize. There, he unexpectedly helped Nancy and Jonathan fight the Demogorgon. A month after these events, Steve and Nancy had gotten back together. The two had dated for nearly a year when their relationship was once again put in jeopardy; no longer being able to bear the guilt of Barb’s death, Nancy told Steve they should tell the Hollands the truth. Steve rejected this idea, reminding her that doing so would put them and their families in danger. At a Halloween party, Nancy became intoxicated, leading her to reveal that she did not have feelings for him. This emotionally crushed Steve, and he broke up with her the following day. Yet, Steve still had feelings for Nancy, and after being goaded by Tommy and Billy, attempted to apologize to her. He eventually came to terms with Nancy’s feelings for Jonathan and told her she should be with him instead. After dropping Dustin off at the Snow Ball, Steve spotted Nancy and accepted she will never love him. A year later, in 1985, Steve confessed to Robin that he no longer loves Nancy and considers her a friend, as he's now looking for the perfect girl for him.

Jonathan Byers: During most of the first season, Steve had an antagonistic relationship with Jonathan, viewing him as an outcast. When Steve found out Jonathan had taken photographs of the pool party, including a candid photo of Nancy, he labeled Jonathan a pervert and broke his camera in retaliation. Following a misunderstanding, he believed Nancy was cheating on him with Jonathan, causing Steve to lash out at him. This resulted in a fistfight between the two, which ended with Jonathan getting arrested and Steve with a wounded face. After realizing he was in the wrong, Steve decided to go to the Byers’ house in order to apologize to Jonathan, resulting in him inadvertently helping with fighting the Demogorgon. In the epilogue of the season finale, taking place a month later, Steve and Jonathan were shown to be on good terms. A year later, in 1984, Steve and Jonathan were shown to still get along. After Steve got his feelings hurt by a drunk Nancy, Steve asked Jonathan to take her home as he felt Nancy would not want him to do it. After accepting Nancy’s feelings for Jonathan, he supported the two in getting together. In 1985, Steve and Jonathan were still on friendly terms, as Steve finally got over Nancy. The two worked together as a team to protect the Party from the Mind Flayer.

Dustin Henderson: During the events of the second season, Steve and Dustin formed an unlikely friendship. Steve was enlisted by Dustin to help him handle Dart when no one else was available. During this time, the two bonded over their relationship problems. Upon finding out that Dustin had kept Dart as an attempt to impress a girl (Max), Steve gave Dustin advice, telling him to “act like he doesn’t care.” He also willingly disclosed his hairstyling secrets. When everybody else failed, Dustin was the one who convinced Steve to put aside his responsibility of protecting the group and instead assist them in burning the tunnels. The two were shown to still be friends by the time the Snow Ball arrived, with Steve driving Dustin to the event and giving him a pep talk before wishing him luck. A year later, Dustin and Steve are still shown to remain friends, when they greet each other at Scoops Ahoy after Dustin returns from Camp Know Where. Dustin tells Steve about his new girlfriend Suzie and asks for his help with translating a Russian broadcast he picked up when trying to contact Suzie, which Steve accepts. When Robin hears of the message and translates it for them, Dustin and Steve work together, along with Robin, to find the Russians and get into the back room of the mall. After getting into the room with Erica Sinclair's help, Dustin stays by Steve's side as Steve opens a box of unknown chemicals, not wanting him to die, which touches Steve. When they are spotted by the Russians, Steve, along with Robin, help Dustin and Erica escape before Dustin tells him that he'll come back for him. Eventually, Dustin comes to Steve and Robin's rescue and helps them escape the Russian base while looking out and protecting them as they were drugged with truth serum. After Steve and Robin are cured, Steve reveals to Dustin that he told the Russians his name while being drugged, much to Dustin's shock, as Steve apologized. When Dustin revealed Suzie's existence by contacting her on Cerebro, Steve was shocked as he secretly did not believe that she existed and awkwardly listened to Dustin and Suzie singing Neverending Story together.

Tommy H. and Carol: Tommy and Carol are former friends of Steve. While the three spent a lot of time together, Steve did not appear to be exceptionally close to them. Upon realizing that the couple were not very good people, Steve ended his friendship with them. A year later, in 1984, Tommy still held a grudge against Steve, and gladly joined Billy in mocking him.

Dead By Daylight

Popular and arrogant, yet compassionate, Steve Harrington is an unlikely mentor and leader. He often acts as a surrogate big brother to a younger boy named Dustin. He even helped him find his slimy inter-dimensional pet Demogorgon, D'Artagnan. His reputation as a protector grew and he soon became a sort of "babysitter" for a group of kids in Hawkins with a knack for messing around with strange and dangerous things. His courage is unmatched so that he was even able to fend off a Demogorgon when it threatened his friends. One evening he received a call for assistance from his friend Nancy Wheeler. He drove all the way to the Hawkins National Laboratory to see if she was okay. He searched the area but only found her notebook. Before he realized what was happening the ground opened up and a swirl of black mist filled his eyes. When he awakened he was in a strange place that seemed familiar but unfamiliar at the same time.

Steve Harrington is a former jock, able to protect and support his fellow Survivors while providing his own brand of humor. His personal Perks, Babysitter, Camaraderie, and Second Wind, enable him to distract Killers, tolerate pain, and get back into the fight.

#♚↬Steve↫♚

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chaoticrebels · 2 years

Text

Name: Steve Harrington

Nickname: Dingus, Pretty Boy, Big Boy, Ninja, King Steve

Alias: The Badass Babysitter

Birthday: April 29, 1966

Age: 16-20+

Sexuality: Bisexual, Biromantic.

Location: Harrington house, Hawkins, Indiana

Species: Human

Powers: None

Occupation: Family Video employee, Scoops Ahoy employee (formerly) Student at Hawkins High School (formerly)

Height: 5′11″

Weight: 163 lbs

Eye Color: Brown

Hair color: Brunette

Piercings: None

Tattoos: None

Scars: A few

Faceclaim: Joe Keery

Biography

In 1986, Steve is still working at Family Video with Robin and he is still finding it difficult to move on from his breakup with Nancy. He learns about the murder at the Forest Hills Trailer Park of Chrissy Cunningham from the news on TV in the store. Later finding out more information about the victim from Max Mayfield and Dustin. They then trace down Eddie Munson, who was the the prime suspect of Chrissy's death. Steve along with Max, Robin and Dustin went to Reefer Rick's house (the drug dealer of Eddie) where he learnt about the dark wizard of the Upside Down named Vecna.

Personality

Prior to dating Nancy, Steve was well known among his peers as a popular boy and a high school sports star. However, he had a terrible personality. He is a pretty boy and was called King Steve as a nickname due to his high popularity.

He displayed some insecurities, as he instantly believed Nancy was sleeping with Jonathan when he saw them together in her bedroom. Despite his flaws, Steve shows that he has a brave side and truly cares about Nancy, as he helped her beat the Monster. At Christmas, 1983, Steve and Nancy purchased Jonathan a new camera to replace the one he and Tommy broke.

Between his breakup with Nancy and Billy quickly taking over his status as 'King Bee' and most popular boy, Steve was at a low point emotionally. While trying to make amends with Nancy, Dustin intercepted him and asked Steve to help catch D'Artagnan. The boys quickly bond, and Steve is shown to have a more parental or mentoring side as he gives Dustin relationship advice. Steve took on the role of 'babysitter' for the kids and was willing to put himself in danger to protect them. He has matured and become far more kind and responsible than he used to be.

In 1985, Steve is a shadow of what he once was. Aside from his sarcasm and recklessness, a lot of his traits that he displayed in his high school years have disappeared. He is incredibly awkward and unsuccessful with the girls he serves at Scoops Ahoy, and the only positive female relationship he seems to have is with his coworker Robin. His friendship with Dustin is still strong, if not stronger, and he seems to be on good terms with the rest of the Hawkins gang. Steve is also shown to be more kind-hearted and tolerant of things he used to poke fun of. Aside from engaging in nerd culture, he's also shed his homophobic views, which is shown when he still accepts Robin as a friend after she comes out to him.

In 1986, Steve is working at a local movie rental store Family Video, with him finding it difficult to find a suitable girlfriend for himself and still having romantic feelings towards Nancy. He becomes jealous of Eddie and Dustin's growing friendship as he feels Eddie is taking over his brotherly role. But softens when Eddie tells him Dustin is always talking about him and worships him. Steve has a heart to heart about his dreams with Nancy, having five or six kids and traveling around in an RV and he later tells Nancy the dream includes her. With Nancy later on telling Jonathan how much Steve has matured in the past 4 years.

Skills

Relationships

Familial

Non-Familial

Robin Buckley: Robin and Steve attended Hawkins High School together. Though Steve didn't know her during his schooling, they eventually became friends after working together at Scoops Ahoy. At first, they expressed a dislike towards one another. Robin would tease his attempts at flirting, and Steve judged her for participating in stereotypical uncool activities, such as theater and band. However, once swept into the mystery of the Russian messages together, the two learned more about each other and became closer. Steve started to develop feelings for Robin, despite previously dismissing her as "not his type" while talking with Dustin. While held captive for their interrogation by the Russians, Robin and Steve are clearly seen to care about each other’s well-being and enjoy each other’s company, talking and laughing together while alone. Once rescued, the duo shared an emotional moment on a bathroom floor where Steve decided to confess his love for Robin. Though she rejected him and came out as lesbian, Steve accepted her as a friend. They remained close friends after the Battle of Starcourt Mall and are seen three months later getting a new job at Family Video together, with Robin helping Steve get the job.

Dead By Daylight

#☯ 。゜ ⠀ ☆ ⠀ 。゜ ⠀ ★ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ﹕Steve

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

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The Pick-Up Line

A/N: Sooo here’s the next fic from my Request List, which I know for a while now has been sadly neglected! Based on the below request in which Jax has a crush on reader, who is Abel’s daycare teacher, and finally gets his chance with her. I got inspired to write it for my dear @happyhunnams’ birthday as I know she’s been excited for this one! 💝 This is also my next entry for @band--psycho’s Bingo Challenge! ✨

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, good teacher falling for that bad cock, Jax having a huge crush and being awk and adorbz as fuck Request: This anon request Bingo Square Filled: “Give me a chance”

Word Count: ~2.8k

He’s bad.

He’s cigarettes and drugs and guns. He’s stained in blood from all the dirty jobs he’s done, from all the shit he’s hit and run. He’s inked in black and leather-clad. Some time ago he lost his wife, love of his life, and the loss drove him fucking mad.

You look at him and you feel sad. He has two sons. Two little sons. Like he has any business raising little ones. A man like that—he really shouldn’t be a dad.

But so he is, and it’s so bad the way you almost just forget that he’s a criminal when he scoops up his young son in his arms and greets him with a tender kiss. You run the best daycare in Charming; somehow Mr. Teller always comes on time to drop off Abel in the morning, which is really quite alarming. Not so punctual for pick-up in the afternoon—but even when he’s running late Abel will squeeze your hand and say ‘he’s coming soon’—like in his bones he feels his daddy’s engine thrumming.

You yourself can feel a different kind of thrumming, every time you see Jax coming. Wish you weren’t that kind of woman. Kind of woman who would throw away her dignity to fuck the king of Charming.

God, he’s bad. And even worse, because you think about the bad guy every night and touch yourself until you burst. ‘Cause he’s the best wet dream you’ve ever fucking had.

***************

You’re good.

You’re pink apples and picture books and pinwheels spinning in the summer sun. You’re like a mother to his son. You’re everything he wants to have and hold, and fuck if only he should be so bold, but knows he never should.

It’s hard when every day he wakes and thinks of you as he rubs out his morning wood.

Ever since his most tragic loss, Jax hasn’t had space for a thing inside his heart other than hatred toward his sorry self for having been the cause. By now it’s been a while though. Some part of him is letting go. Yet even so part of him knows, he’ll never be the man he was.

Won’t love the way he did before. Loss changes as it ever does. Can barely recognize the widower, the killer in the mirror. Splashes water on his face, raises to meet his gaze, and takes a steady pause. Searching himself for any part of him that’s pure.

The part of him that’s real—that can still feel—that may at last have come to heal... won’t love the way he did before.

For shame, won’t ever love the same. But if his heart survives its self-inflicted war, then maybe on the other side there’s hope of loving more.

***************

Jax Teller owns exactly one (1) nice fucking suit.

He’s never been to a job interview. Never set foot in a corporate building or anything. Funerals and weddings? A few. But they’ve all been within the Sons’ crew; everyone knows what dress code they’re getting. All the men who attend wear their leather because showing up in a suit would be honestly rude.

Yet today Mr. Teller is asking a fine woman out on a date for the first time since... longer than he can remember. Feels like the first time in forever. He wants to dress up like a fresh fucking prince. He’s in a fucking mood.

Crisp white shirt. Sharp black slacks. Feels so spiffy it hurts; his reflection asks—you even Jax? Fiddles with this silk tie of dark blue, realizing he has no fucking clue. Glances back, checks the clock on the desk behind him, which reminds him, that he’s fucking screwed.

He’s already so late. It’s not even like this is an actual date. Hasn’t been on a real date since high school. Now here he is dressing up all nice as if this is prom night and practicing cheap pick-up lines in his room like an absolute fool.

Never once in his life has Jax Teller been anything other than cool.

Now he’s anything but, as he tries out this suit thing in place of his trusty old kutte. And it feels like he’s broken some unspoken rule.

The way that he’s clumsily fumbled his tie just resembles a soft fabric pretzel or some shit. Ugh, fuck it. This business is cruel. Roughly rips the ridiculous thing off his neck and unbuttons a couple shirt buttons, adjusting the collar in case that’ll look better—it doesn’t. Suits simply aren’t cut out for Teller and nothing is coming together. He still looks like a fucking tool.

It’s five minutes past the time he was supposed to arrive at the daycare. He still has to sort out his hair. Never felt so un-fucking-prepared.

His cell rings and he puts it on speaker, so he can use both hands to carry on primping herself for his kid’s pretty teacher.

“What’s up, Nero?” he greets his favorite wholesome sweater-sporting superhero. One of the few sources of comfort and calm in his life as a reaper.

“Hey, I’ve got Abel, Jax,” the self-proclaimed ‘companionator’ states and carries on before Jax can react. “I’m gonna take him to the playground. Told her she oughta wait up at the center in case anyone comes around, but you’ve probably got ten minutes max.”

Jax’s brows furrow. He doesn’t quite follow. “What—Nero...”

The voice on the other end lets out a gentle grandfatherly chuckle remembering what he had witnessed when he had stopped by Jax’s place a few hours ago. “Saw you practicing pick-up lines and picking out an outfit, mano. You’re not really subtle about it, you know?”

King of Charming is blushing he’s so fucking mortified. Crushing so hard he can’t hide. “Were the lines any good, though?”

Another lighthearted grandfatherly laugh makes it clear that the answer is no.

Jackson thanks him profusely before the call’s done. Asks him to send a kiss to his son. A big kiss. Fuck is he grateful that Nero did this. Though the presence of a little child would’ve kept his courtship a classier level of tame... Jax’s feelings toward you are wild and now he can flirt without filter and shame.

Nero has one piece of advice to lend, before the call comes to an end. Good father figure and an even better friend.

“And look I don’t mean to be rude... but ditch that stupid fucking suit.”

***************

You have no clue what Nero meant when he came by to pick up Abel and just casually suggested that you stick around awhile. But there was something... promising, in his persuasive smile. You’ve always gotten honest vibes from him and trust he’s one of the best guys around. Though you don’t know them very well, you’ve heard a lot of shit about the Teller-Morrow clan and Jax’s stepfather who’s now rotting in hell; something tells you that Jax has started to become a better man these past few years thanks to the influence of this new father figure that he’s found.

Told Nero you would wait ten minutes for whoever else may be coming around. It’s not as if you’re keeping count. You feel like it has to be Jax and just the thought makes your heart pound...

Pounds even faster, once you finally hear the rumble of his Harley and set eyes upon the sexy fucking bastard.

Typically of course he’ll come by in his car to get his son, but this fine afternoon it seems he knows that Abel is already gone. There’s no one else here at the daycare center either. Just the teacher. Owner of this place who’s desperate to get ravaged by the reaper. So if Jax is here to pick someone up you’re the only one.

You’re waiting inside and can see him through the wide window out front. Pretending to be sorting papers when your main focus is sorting out the fire in your cunt. It’s so insane the way the bright gold of his mane catches the sun. He’s in his blue jeans and black leather and although he probably left at home his go-to knife and gun, you have no doubt that in his crotch he’s still packing the biggest baddest fucking weapon, and you bet he walks with that signature swagger in his gait because his dick weighs a whole ton.

You’re dumb enough to make eye contact through the window and he greets you with a small wave and a smile. Sort of... awkward and a little shy—got no clue why—you’ve seen him interact with other women all the time and awkward-shy is really not Jax Teller’s style.

Just figure it’s because he’s here to have some unpleasant discussion. Maybe something serious that’s going on, relating to his son. You really hope that’s not the case because you’ve come to care for Abel so much after all this while—he’s a special one—sometimes you worry that you care too much as if he’s your own child.

Shove those thoughts out of your mind as Jackson walks up to the center. As his fine ass finally enters.

Damn is he working that leather. Sometimes you wonder how he’d clean up in a snazzy suit and tie but then again you just know this look is much better. It just screams Jax Fucking Teller.

The king of Charming in all his glory just stands there for a second in the doorway.

“H-hey,” is all he manages to say.

He bites his lip and tries to take a step toward you—almost trips over his stupid big white shoes—why is he tweaking out this way? Doesn’t seem drunk or drugged. Just weirdly sort of fucked.

You’d like to fuck him even more ‘cause you’re a dirty fucking whore. You may as well bend over now to fetch the fragments of your dignity from where they’re scattered all across the floor.

“Hi,” you reply and hope he doesn’t see the pornographic sex scenes playing out in your mind’s eye. “Can I...”

Now you’re the one who’s acting silly, as your inner slut silently finishes that sentence with a whole series of filthy. The teacher-themed puns that pop into your head are so painfully stupid you feel super guilty.

... Can I teach you the ABCs? Ass, balls, and cock—shove that cock in me—fuck it in deep till your balls slap my ass, baby.

... Can I teach you some calculus for a minute? With you I’m such a kinky bitch I have no limits. I’m serious, the limit just doesn’t exist.

... Can I teach you how to play nice during recess? You be Simon and I’ll do whatever you say. It’s the best way to play. Just tell me to bend over and I’ll let you fuck me to pieces. All day every day.

This is really not fucking okay.

“Umm...” you stammer, as Jax slowly crosses the room. Hoping he doesn’t hear your heart thud like a hammer. State something obvious because it’s safe although it’s dumb, and no doubt he already knows it anyway. “You’re a bit late for pick-up today.”

He smiles that sheepishly soft little smile again. The total opposite of classic hardcore Jackson. “Yeah, I’m not here to pick up my son.”

Rehearsed a thousand fucking pick-up lines before he came but for the life of him can’t even think of one.

It should be obvious he’s here to hit on you. But he’s not smooth enough to say it or to show you that it’s true. Instead he gestures at the room so full of playful toys and pretty decorations, this colorful haven of growth and education. “So, um... it looks like you know how to make learning fun.”

What the actual fuck, Jackson. He grabs his inner idiot by the scruff and fucking smacks him.

Meanwhile you’re swooning ‘cause you think his inner idiot is adorable as shit. And though what he just said was stupid, it provides you with a nice outlet to talk about your passions. “Yeah, I—I just remember back when I was young which classes were my favorite. When the teachers put the effort in to make lessons engaging it was always so appreciated. I was lucky enough to have lots of good teachers so I loved school as a kid.”

Probably just rambled way too much but it helps you stay sane and stable when you fill the space with words. Otherwise in silence, you feel yourself so tense, so wet it hurts. No man on earth ever looked so good but you still know he’s bad news and it’s the worst.

Jax looks as if he’s hanging hard on every single word you say. You still have no fucking idea what’s gotten into him today.

His smile softens and brightens a bit, as he hears how you loved school as a kid. “I bet you did. I bet you always aced it. Whereas me...” now finally he summons up the courage to say something just a little slick and nasty, though he’s terrified that it’ll go over badly, “...I’d always got a big fat D.”

A big fat—yes, he honestly just said that.

And he’s not the only one who can play bad.

Now that your inner slut has just been hit by Jax’s truck, she plays right back with a suggestive shrug. “Tough luck. If you’d just stooped a little lower then you could’ve had an F for Fuck.”

This game does not stop once it starts. You both play hard. He feeds ferociously off your flickering fire, triggering his own desire; he’s no longer shy and awkward as his stiff dick takes the focus off his nervous little heart.

“Me, stoop lower?” Jax echoes your words with a devilish snicker and takes a step closer. “Nah, I was always the one who made bitches go down and bend over.”

“Of course you were. Bet you think you still are, too. With a face like that, a dick so big and fat, I bet getting the girl was never hard to do.”

“Yeah, I could get any damn girl I want to,” he snarls. So close now that his maddening masculine scent makes your toes curl. Won’t touch you just yet, but in his gaze of brilliant blue you can read words unsaid: I want you.

This is what you want too. But for just a while longer, you want to prolong this dance. Further provoke his hunger. See if this is just sex or perhaps something deeper and stronger. Get back to that soft side of Jackson, a sweet glimpse of tenderness you would’ve never imagined. That Prince Fucking Charming who might really like you and give you a whirlwind romance... if you’d give him the chance...

But no matter how charming he seems, you remind yourself now that he can’t be the man of your dreams. He just can’t. He’s still so fucking bad in so many ways you simply can’t fucking stand…

And he’s reading your mind in this instant. The silent few seconds you’ve spent. You’re leaning against your desk now, and he still hasn’t touched you but feels like he’s fucking inside you somehow.

“Listen, Y/N,” he urges you gently, voice shaken yet steady. “Before I came over here, I practiced lines in the mirror. That’s not something I fucking do. I’ve been freaking out over how badly I find myself wanting you.”

You’re freaking out over how you feel all that he’s saying is true.

“Maybe that sounds like a line but it’s not. This is the only pick-up line I’ve got: I like you. A lot. And I know I’m not right for you. But I—I want to be, honestly, and if you let me then I’ll keep on trying to.”

No doubt he’s lied to girls before. And yet somehow you feel so sure, that you’re not someone he would ever dream of lying to. You have no clue just how you know but you just do.

“I don’t really do romance. But with you I’m fucking dying to. We can go on cute dates and star-gaze and slow dance. Be stupid and crazy. If you want that as badly as I do... then baby, just give me a chance.”

There is no way in hell you could say no to that. And you don’t even care if it’s bad, that right now from the start, as Jax Teller begins to make his way home into your heart... first things first, you want his dick to rip you apart. Now that his little pick-up line worked, he has won his way into your pants.

***************

... Continued in Part 2!

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

– Main Masterlist

– Bingo Challenge Masterlist

***************

Tag List – Join Here!*

*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

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stuckysdumbbitch · 3 years

Text

a worthy present

summary: Bucky loves to treat Steve on his birthdays

pairings: steve rogers x bucky barnes, dark! stucky x reader

warnings: 18+ content, kidnapping, noncon, smut, oral (m receiving), loss of virginity, slight blood, somnophilia towards the end, implied murder

happy birthday to this hot bitch

masterlist

—

Bucky was overjoyed when he heard the door opening, signaling Steve’s arrival to the big house they had on the private neighborhood. He looked at the big red box with the surprise he had planned for weeks before jumping from his seat at the couch to welcome his lover.

Steve smiled at him, lacing his arms at his neck while Bucky cradled his hips lovingly. They kissed, sweet and tenderly.

“Happy Birthday baby,” Bucky mumbled, his steely blue eyes locking into Steve’s sky blues. It was almost perfect.

Pushing his boyfriend towards the nearest table, the blonde began fumbling with his belt until Bucky playfully pulled him off.

“Wait! I have to give you your present,” he chuckled, side stepping him.

“Can’t it wait? you gonna give me blue balls!”Steve groaned, a smirk tugging at his lips as Bucky pulled him to the living room.

Steve eyed curiously the box, confusion and amusement in his eyes. Bucky pushed him towards the present like a little child.

As the bows were untied, the sides of the boxes fell. Bucky gazed into Steve’s expressionless face as a shocked gasp left his lips.

“Saw you looking at the café the other day,” Bucky explained, wrapping his hands around the soldier’s shoulders.

Steve bent down to cradle your face, a hot tear falling into his hand. He admired how your cherry red painted lips wrapped around the ball gag, and the 4th of July inspired lingerie Bucky had most likely put you. Your calves were tied to your thighs and your wrists were bound to your back in thick red rope that had left marks on your pretty skin.

He reached to undo the ties, you fell over from the strain of your muscles but remained in all fours. Your breath hitched when you realized how lovingly Steve was staring at you, and your gaze fell down to the notable bulge on his jeans.

“You like it?”Bucky asked, with the same calmness as if he was asking about a new pair of pants.

Steve’s lips curled into a wide smile, showing his pearly white teeth. He dropped to his knees, finally removing the ball gag while cradling your face.

As soon as the tension was relieved from your jaw, Captain America pressed a bruising kiss into your lips. Your palms curled against his chest, pushing him off with all your strength.

He chuckled at your attempts, scooping your panicked frame into his arms and standing up. He looked back at Bucky, squeezing you even harder from the adrenaline.

“Thank you Buck,” he whispered, holding you with one hand as he laced his hand with the other’s. He lead into the bedroom, you on his broad shoulder staring at Bucky’s triumphant face.

You were suddenly thrown into the plush bedding of the king sized bed, super soldiers peeling of their clothes in front of you. You scooted to the edge of the bed only to have Bucky tut at you, grabbing your ankle clad in stiletto heels with his vibranium hand.

“Why isn’t she screaming?” the blonde wandered, more of confusion than annoyance.

“Trained her well,” Bucky commented, naked body flopping on top of you to crush you with his weight. “spanked her when she tries to deny me; haven’t had her yet though, wanted to keep her pure for you,”

You winced remembering the “training” in the basement, dark and cold while he kept defiling you. You barely noticed Steve plopping on the bed beside you, transfigured on Bucky’s sloppy kisses on your neck.

“Move over jerk,” Steve teased and Bucky moved to the side, allowing him space “she’s my present, not yours.”

“getting jealous punk?” The brunet wondered, knitting his brows. Steve ignored him, pulling down your red and white lacy panties as Bucky unbuckled the blue see through bra with silver stars.

Bucky had taken time to expertly wax you, leaving you almost more bare than ever, along with the hormone pills he fed you to keep you aroused.

Steve’s splayed hands pulled you open, looking hungrily at your sloppy core.

“Please,” you begged Bucky, whose brows furrowed at your demand “i’m just a normal girl I-“

your pleas were silenced by him pulling out his thick veiny cock you had seen a hundred times, but he never did more than ask for a blow job or hand job. He began pumping while staring at you carelessly. You sobbed at this, and at the sudden prod of a wet muscle in your throbbing entrance.

Steve quickly latched into your clit, sucking at it while moaning at your sweet taste. You let out an unconscious whimper at the intrusion, back curving off the bed and lips turning into a perfect “o” shape.

Bucky slipped his cock inside your mouth at this, the length still hard to swallow. You relaxed your throat like he told you to do, groaning around it at Steve’s ministrations.

You came quickly at Steve’s mercy, but not quick enough to calm down before you felt an unknown dick prod at your virgin entrance. You gulped, making Bucky let out a deep growl and reach to squeeze your boob into his palm.

Steve’s hand trailed around your body until it settled on your hips. His thrust was quick, yet faltering to put pressure at the barrier; he admires the slight blood that dripped out of your entrance, staining his dick once he was fully seated inside.

His thrusts were slow and pasional, but strong. Each squeal meant her to clung into their dicks, fueling the super soldiers.

Bucky came first, spilling his salty load into her mouth before ordering to swallow. He knelt next to Steve, watching his lover’s dick disappear inside of you.

He soon went hard again, but conformed with jerking off using your spit as lube.

“Such a good bunny,” Steve panted, pushing your legs over his shoulders and bending down to kiss your tears away and place a tender kiss on your lips, to then straighten up and jack hammer into you.

“She really is a good girl,” Bucky praised, imitating Steve’s actions to kiss you, tasting himself on you.

Your squeals and yelps were so damn adorable for them, how you wiggled around, lost in pleasure. Bucky kissed the bulge on your stomach from how deep Steve’s cock was, trailing up to your sweet nipples.

“Look at this,” Bucky grinned, a hand delving into your slit to tease your clit. With just a few brushes of his metal hand, you let out the loudest moan of the night snuggling Steve deep inside your clenching walls. You panted for air, eyes fluttering close as you fell limp against the bed “sweet thing can’t even come without going unconscious,”

The sight was enough for both of them to cum, Steve painting your insides while Bucky shot towards your perky chest.

Both soldiers shared a loving look before kissing deeply, the blonde still balls deep inside of you.

“Thanks Buck,” Steve smiled, hand tugging the brunet’s long locks “I loved it,”

“We keeping her?” Bucky asked shyly, hopeful glint on his eyes “she just isn’t like the other girls,”

“Can’t let this sweet pussy go to waste,” Steve replied, pulling out his blood stained dick for emphasis “our sweet little bunny,”

905 notes · View notes

littlepadika · 3 years

Note

You asked for daddy whiskey ideas so here I come!! <3

I just know he loves cookouts, so what about him just having some fun with the grill on a sunday and he teaches his little how to make some burgers and maybe then, they can have some fun together in the pool!

OMG such a cute idea 😭 thank you! Daddy Whiskey is the king of the grill 👑

Warnings: DDLG, age regression

Jack was a bit nervous to have you working the grill with him. he didn't want you to burn yourself but you were just so eager to learn how to flip a hamburger. He let you flip pancakes for breakfast so why was this any different. He made sure you were in a cute pink apron to protect yourself from the heat and grease. He had his own black apron with the words "Big Daddy on the grill" printed on the front. You had gotten it for him for his birthday and he always wore it.

"I'm daddy's wittle helper!" You waved your pink spatula in the air.

"Sure are." Jack smiled affectionately, wondering how he got so lucky to have a precious gem like you. "Okay, go ahead and climb on up but don't stand too close." Jack put down your pink plastic stool so you could reach the burgers already cooking.

"It's burning." You commented with wide eyes when you were right in front. You could feel the waves of heat coming off the grill. You could see little orange flames beneath the metal grill plate.

"Yes that's why we gotta be careful. I don't want you to get burned."

"I'll be careful." You vowed.

"Okay, are you ready my little grilling partner?" Jack came behind, looking over your shoulder and holding your hand that had the spatula in his so he could guide your movement.

"I'm rwedy!" You announced, all too eagerly scooping up the burger.

"Now hang on-"

But before Jack could steady your hand the burger fell off the spatula and slipped beneath the grate with a splat.

"Oh no!" You instinctively went to jab it free with the spatula.

"Wait- wait don't touch." Jack chided tightening his grip on you. "It's gone, baby girl."

"I'm sowwy daddy!" You felt your eyes water. His sharp tone and grip caused immediate tears.

"Hey it's okay it's okay, little lamb." Jack turned you around, shutting the grill top. You leaned into his chest, hiding your face. "Daddy's not mad. We can try again. There are plenty of burgers." He kissed your cheeks then your lips. "I've lost a burger or two in my time as well. It's all part of the learning process."

"Okay." You smiled after a moment feeling renewed determination.

"Now... let daddy help okay?" Jack resumed his position behind you, holding your hand. He opened the grill and slowly guided the spatula under the burger.

"Now I flip?" You asked, freezing for the next step.

"Yep, nice and easy." He gave your hand a tug and the burger went up a few inches before flipping face down onto the grate. Not quite onto the spatula.

"I did it!!!" You squealed, turning around to see your daddy's proud smile. That's why you did it after all.

"Couldn't have done it better myself, little lamb." He cheered rubbing your back gently. "Now five more to go and then it'll be time to eat!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My masterlist

Littlespace taglist: @lafresamilk @dobbyjen @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @bluevxnus @spacenerdpascal @bac-1 @dincrypt

#daddy!cowboy #daddy!whiskey #little!reader #agent whiskey x reader #anon #ask padika

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honeyedhoseok · 3 years

Text

8th MEMEBR OF BTS

• STAGE NAME: Kim Yvonne (김 이본)

• BIRTH NAME: Park Chanelle

• BIRTHDAY: December 31st, 1995

• HEIGHT: 5"9

• PROFESSION: K-pop Idol

• GROUP: BTS

• LABEL: Big Hit

• POSITION: Lead Vocalist, Visual,Sub-rapper, writer, producer.

• DEBUT DATE: June 13th, 2013

• FACE CLAIM: seunghwibaby on ig

• VOICE CLAIM: Madison Beer+Ariana Grande. Rap voice claim: Lisa (BP)

EXTRA INFO ABOUT KIM YVONNE

• NICKNAMES: vonnie, nellie, baby, Big Hit's princess

• TALENTS: can play drums, electric guitar and piano.

• HIDDEN TALENTS: can hold her breath for 4 minutes, is very felixible, excellent at volleyball and basketball.

• LOVE LIFE: is currently single, has 4 exes.

• SUBLINGS: 1 twin brother, Park Jongin.

• SEXUALITY: she's bisexual

• AESTHETIC: femme fatale

• HER PERSONALITY: she's the sweetest little thing ever. everyone's first impression of her was 'bubbly, adorable and sweet'. she's extremely selfless and is constantly putting others before herself in any situation even if she's at a disadvantage. very smart, a little introverted. can be really quite or really loud, no in-between. can seem cold on the outside but she's the warmest person on the inside. broken gen z humor. clingy baby, loves skinship.

• was diagnosed with ADHD Inattentive was she was 13, anxiety and depression when she was 19.

• is unsecure about her looks

• fake maknae

• has three awards on her solo project

• her voice is on the deep side but she can go really high

• MUSIC GENRE: loves pop, RnB and Trap.

• PETS: two chow chow dogs, Oliver and Sirius Black.

• TATTOOS: A sun and a Cresent on her hand, a cloud on her middle finger and ARMY'S shield on her ring finger, 'kookie'on her wrist, a heart in her palm, and a ⁷ behind her ear

• PIERCINGS: three on each ear, nose piercing.

• SOLO PROJECTS: 'Selenophilia' three singles and 10 songs in total.

'Venus Records' two singles and 9 songs in total

CELEBRITY CRUSHES:

• People Crushing On KYV:

• Jackson Wang (GOT7), Wooyoung and Seonghwa (ATEEZ), GRAY and Jay Park (AOMG), Jennie Kim (BLACKPINK), Chan and Han (STRAY KIDS), KAI (EXO).

• Crushes KYV has:

• Seonghwa (ATEEZ), Wonho, Jay Park, Hwasa (MAMAMOO), Jennie Kim (BLACKPINK), Madison Beer, Yeonjun (TXT).

A GUIDE TO THE SHIPS: withing BTS

VONJOON/RAPVON

• 45% family, 55% romance

• fourth biggest ship in K-pop.

• she's his baby, you can't convince me otherwise.

• she looks up to namjoon alot.

• king and queen of destruction

• writing duo

• calling eachother 'honey' platonically

• too many inside jokes

• can be annoying, because who ever is around them WILL third wheel.

• "BTS and the world third wheeling joon and vonnie for 25 minutes straight" videos

• back massages because carrying the music industry is painful

• they trust eachother so much

• will always spill to eachother about their worries.

• the respect is through the roof

• love for days

• vonjoon/ rapvon stans are either rock hard or soft af

• HUGS

• this man is a giant and the hight difference is just enough for him to scoop her up in his arms and squeeze the life out of her.

• they can carry smart conversations most of the time, but not all the time

• "joon, what's the difference between horses and donkeys?"

• "°_°"

• "deadass"

• wholesome relationship :)

SEOKVON/ VONJIN

• 70% family, 30% romance

• will babie her, he must babie her.

• he's so protective of his wittle vonnie

• is always checking up on her.

• he thinks she's the most precious angel in the world that need to be rocked to sleep and fed every couple of hours.

• gives everyone normal cups, but Yvonne get a sippy cup with sunflower prints on it.

• THEY LOUD AS HELL OH MY GOD

• one can spot their shenanigans from a mile away.

• a lot of "Jin and von being chaotic neutral" for an hour straight videos

• he taught her how to fish

• cooking buddies

• making cookies at 3 in the morning

• crackhead energy that fills up a tank

• will shamelessly stock up tampons and pads for her

• THE LOVE IS CONTAGIOUS

• INFECTIOUS LOVE

• sibling fights for no reason

• seokvon/vonjin stans are the softest ever

• wholesome babies

MINVON/ VONGI

• 65% family, 35% romance

• IS VERY VERY PROTECTIVE OF HER.

• has the biggest soft spot for her

• he's her little meow meow

• they go fishing together (w/ Jin)

• she has the passcode to his studio

• PRODUCER DUO

• the amount of unreleased tracks is insane.

• he pretends he doesn't like her hugs, but in reality he instantly melts in her arms.

• the only person he'll let cuddle him.

• deep convos

• stargazing

• sharing bandanas

• not a lot of skinship

• keeping eachother entertained during award shows

• WIGGLY YOONGI DANCE TOGETHER

• gummy smiles :')

• minvon/vongi stans are soft and well fed

• playing basketball together

• armys making "suga and yvonne being babies" compilation videos

• they're the type of duo who you be in a room doing literally whatever and someone you'd walk in, stare at them and slowing retreat thinking they just walked into some cult activities

• silently take care of eachother

• smallest acts of intimacy

• tiny babies

JUNGVONNIE/VONHOPE/HOVI

• 50% family, 50%romance

• team chaos

• THE ULTIMATE DANCE DUO OH MY GOD

• doing the weirdest things ever without questioning it

• compliments that turn into, "no u, no u, NO I SAID YOU"

• he's secretly her favourite

• yvonne and hobi are basically what its like to mix gummy bears, skittles, rainbow belts and honey. SWEETNESS AND HAPPINESS AND SUNSHINE ALL AROUND UWU

• THE VOLUME IS ASTRONOMICAL

• but like thank god one of them has an iq above 6

• the amount of "hobi and voni being rays of sunshine" for 30 minutes straight videos is insane

• Comfort Inn ™

• CUDDLES

• she will cling to him as if he's the last human alive.

• they're in their own universe almost all the time

• jungvonnie/vonhope/hovi stan are so soft if they see a video of hobi and voni laughing they will cry

• loveliest relationship

TAEVON/ 2V/ VONHYUNG

• 20% family, 80% romance

• third biggest ship in K-pop

• they get a little too hot on stage

• she's his favourite person

• she makes him feel so safe

• the walking memes

• GUCCI EVERYWHERE

• being weird together

• always teamed up in any situation

• DEEP VOICE DUO

• dog parents

• yeontan, Oliver and Sirius are literal siblings

• coffee 'dates'

• actual fashion icons

• king and queen of resting bitch faces

• skinship at its finest

• a new dating rumor every other day it's not even shocking at this point

• they are always taking naps somewhere, can be backstage, can during an award show, can be during practice, doesn't matter. naps.

• they're always there for eachother, mentally and physically.

• "tae and vonnie being adorable for 10 minutes straight" videos

• t r u s t

• are always playing with each others hair

• taevon/2V/vonhyung stans are either hardcore af or soft af

• sweetest relationship

( i can't add a jimin gif due to a limit in submitting)

JIVON/VONMIN/2PARK

• 2% family, 98% romance

• biggest ship in K-pop

• they're always together no matter what

• skinship to the literal max

• holding hands, cheek kisses, cuddling, hugs, sitting on each other's laps, all of it.

• matching hair colours.

• they're either being the tiniest babies together or everyone's OTP, no in between.

• 'power couple' at award shows, matching outfits, dance solos, harmonizing together, they got it.

• all over eachother on stage, as if no one is watching.

• Yvonne 'platonically' calls jimin baby, but he blushes everytime.

• him calling her noona

• they don't give the army the chance to breath, because they are never here to play

• they have the most iconic lines that genuinely sound like fake subs

• que the "jimin and yvonne being a married couple for 20 minutes straight" videos

• they are either really chill or hella energetic

• the jivon/vonmin/2park stans are probably the hardest stans in the fandom.

• sweethearts :')

( I can't add a jungkook gif)

VONKOOK/ JEONVONNIE

• 10% family, 90% romance.

• second biggest ship in K-pop

• golden maknaes

• vocal duo

• "_____ hyung won't scold us"

• they're banana milk addicts

• poutty bunnies

• she's literally kookie's role model

• he always has his head on her shoulder

• they have several matching tattoos (a heart on their palms, he has 'vonnie' on his wrist and she has 'kookie' her wrist, and a '⁷' behind their ears).

• they're always covering songs together

• crackhead energy is through the roof

• they are the chaotic good/evil

• hands all over eachother all the time

• on stage

• during practice

• on vlives

• awards shows, whatever

• fancams of their solo performances always tend to go viral

• whenever they're are in the same room, just know something is going to get spoiled. always.

• king and queen of highnotes

• "jungkook and yvonne being BTS' babies" videos

• they (+tae) are rapline's biggest fans

• the weird drunkies

• they are always eating something, can be ramen, can be an unpeeled banana, you never know.

the vonkook/jeonvonnie stans are the most confused turned on stans ever, but they are quite well fed.

( lmao I hope u liked this)

#bts x reader #bts layouts #btsgif #8th member of bts #8th member au #denoire #submission

156 notes · View notes

emblazons · 1 year

Text

“I’m stealthy, like a ninja.”

@kingofscoops 30th Birthday Bash day five: skill: free space // color: free space concept: Steve, the "King of Scoops"

520 notes · View notes

simonrriley · 3 years

Text

FAMILY

tags: @thatsmycigarbutyoucanborrowit, @ryanseamans, @love-pyramus, @babymushroomboy, @n-noelleholiday-y, @panicky-pancakes warnings: drug use, rape mentions, victim blaming, church mentions, implied suicide attempt, mentioned abuse, swearing and family conflicts/arguments note: happy birthday king (and saturn)! y’all are old now! here is a very sad fic! if you cannot read something like this rn, given the warnings and all, please do not, your mental wellbeing isn’t worth reading it, so. note two: this fic switches between past and present often and jumps around in time a bit, if you need help figuring out the timeline, let me now, it’s my first time experimenting with jumping around in fics like this!

Taste bitter on the guilty tongue It's hard to see I'm the chosen one

King sighed, sitting at his desk, staring back at his laptop. The screen was bright and white, a contrast against his dark office. He rubbed at his eyes as he felt Bastard winding around his legs, letting out a loud ‘mrrow!’, trying to get his attention. He chuckled, reaching down and scratching him behind the ear briefly before straightening back up and casting a glance at the clock. 2:15 AM. Their eyes trailed over to the half empty cup of coffee to his right, a ring forming on the stained white desk and what he was sure was mold growing on the inner side of the cup. How long had he been at this? Bruiser or Spot hadn’t even come in to check in on him. Which meant they were either both asleep, “busy”, or they knew not to disturb him, especially with him writing this. It was important. It was personal. And for once, it really was personal, and they recognized that. They could see it in his eyes when he woke in the morning, the dullness and the emptiness. There was something else behind there, something looming and dark, like an oncoming storm. And they didn’t dare want to be caught in the rain. So they let him write. They let him write and write and write, until his fingers grew blisters and his laptop had to warn him of its battery percentage a few too many times a night. With a heavy sigh, King pulled himself away from their work, sitting up from his slumped position and getting out of his desk chair. They popped their back with a groan and Bastard meowed, trotting up to him, expecting treats or more attention. King smiled tiredly, reaching down and scooping up the furry mass of black fur. “You’re not getting anything out of me. You’re gonna wanna see B, she loves you,” he cooed, as he opened the door and made his way down towards the hallway.

Fake friends with a camera phone Ugly, drunk, cold, and missing home

They figured he’d go and grab a snack, make another cup of coffee and return Bastard to the others. As much as he loved when the cat slept on his lap during long nights of writing, Bastard had a bad habit of throwing up just about all the time and he was too tired to deal with that for another night in a row. So tonight he’d be B and Spot’s problem.

For an hour or so more, King stared at the screen until the pounding headache that formed in his head told him he should probably go to sleep sooner or later. Staying up for three nights in a row writing probably wasn’t good for his health. He shrugged as he got up, pushing his chair in and clicking off the light. He’d gone longer, it didn’t really matter. He’d be back to writing the next morning anyway, that is if Spot and B didn’t perform an intervention. They chuckled at the idea, it wouldn’t be the first time they had tried that on him, it hadn’t worked the first time and it wouldn’t work this time either. They both knew that.

He glanced back at the desk as he made his way towards the door. “Tomorrow,” he sighed. And then the lights clicked off.

This home of mine I see it in my dreams

King stared back at himself in the mirror, the sink running endlessly below him. He was tired. He was so, so tired. He bent down, cupping his hands under the running faucet and splashing some water onto his face, hoping to clear some grime from the past few all nighters. He really needed to shower. They glanced towards the shower curtain. Maybe tomorrow.

He grabbed his toothbrush, wetting the bristles under the water for a moment before squirting some toothpaste onto it. With a sigh, he began brushing, gazing into the mirror as if it was the portal to another world. A time before. A lifetime before. A home before. “King! Hurry the fuck up!” King laughed, spitting his toothpaste in the sink and tossing his brush into the holder and racing down the hallway, stomping all the while. It might’ve been 7 am in their house, but Mouse and King were ready to play at any time.

“I’m coming!”

Where everyone looks happy And everyone still likes me

King chased Mouse around the corner of their kitchen island, almost slamming himself into the side as he tried to catch up.

“Shortie I swear!” He shouted, turning to chase her down the hall. She’d stolen one of his hoodies and was now racing around the house with it. There was no actual problem with that besides the fact it was going to be cold that day and she’d stolen every single other one he owned.

“Swear what?” She taunted back from the top of the stairs, waving the hoodie around.

King gave a frustrated growl and sprinted towards her and the chase began again.

Until King collided with a taller body.

“Levi,” the voice scolded.

“Oh, shit, sorry mom!” He yelled, ducking around her and going to chase Mouse again.

“Don’t you two have anything better to do on a Saturday morning?” She asked tiredly, although she wore a warm smile on her face. She could never be mad at them for having fun.

“Would you be mad if I said no?” Mouse chirped in, laughing.

The other two burst into laughter, shaking their heads. “No, I wouldn’t,” Mom said. “But I might be mad if Levi doesn’t do his laundry soon. Maybe you’d find another sweatshirt in there.”

“It’s Mouse’s turn to do laundry!”

“I’m not touching your boxers!”

“But it’s your turn!”

King rolled his eyes. “See what I have to deal with?” He whined jokingly as he looked up at his mother, using fake puppy dog eyes.

She brushed his hair back with another laugh. “Yes Levi, I see it all.”

Mouse pouted. “That’s just mean!”

“C’mere then,” King said, opening his arms towards Mouse, and in a moment was rocked by her body slamming into his arms. “There we go,” he chuckled as Mom wrapped her arms around him.

Just one happy family.

This home of mine I miss it all the time

Mouse sat herself down on the counter, watching as her mother shuffled around in the kitchen, in the middle of making a casserole or something, Mouse didn’t actually know. It was some suburban mom food that she didn’t really want but would have to suffer through because she loved her. Which reminded her of the fact she should look up some Italian recipes to try and cook for the family and King, mostly King. All that man ate was pasta and toast. He was 90% gluten and 10% caffeine. He could probably make a fort out of the amount of monster cans lingering in their bedroom. Well - his bedroom, not theirs, but Mouse never stayed in her own room. And King never put up a fight over it. She sighed, tuning back into the actual world and hoping that the note of Italian food would stay embedded in her mind for later. She needed a lot of things to stick in her mind actually, but it was hard when there was a lot going on behind the scenes. Mouse looked up, world coming to standstill as she listened to one of the cabinets squeak open, the hinges rusty from use, and the rattling of a bottle of pills caused every part of her to tense, remaining cemented to her seat, eyes wide. “Anyway, I was thinking that next weekend we could arrange a dinner with the Larkins and-” Her mom cut herself off, staring at Mouse, a frown falling on her face. “Ilaria sweetie, what’s wrong?” The words fell on muffled ears, the world submerging itself underwater, she could see mom’s lips moving but the words never came, never hit her like the weight of what she saw. And what she saw really wasn’t anything, it was just her mother taking Advil for her back. It wasn’t anything bad. Tears welled up in her eyes before she could will them away; the sound and memories of countless nights pressed up against the bathroom door, listening for any signs of distress from her brother, for any sign he was still alive after everything, rushing after her. No matter how much she tried to run, it would always follow her. Did it follow King? Did King care what it did to her?

Did King care at all? “Ilaria,” the mother repeated again, voice a little louder but not any firmer, her tone still gentle, something Mouse would come to appreciate. “Sweetheart what’s going on?” Before Mouse could even think, even think to stop and protect herself from the embarrassment, tears came rushing out. She hated crying, at all, but in front of someone? It was completely different. She curled into herself on the counter, trying to become smaller than she was, hoping that maybe some dark pit would open up and swallow her whole so she didn’t have to face her, to face any of this. It wasn’t fair. The cries quickly turned to sobs, sobs that brought out every bottled up emotion and words, all the fear and the nightmares, nights locked outside of King’s room with terror racing through her system. She just wanted a big brother. Her sides shook and her ribs ached as she tried and failed to take in heaving gasps of air, only working herself further into a panic, she could taste the saltiness of tears slipping into her mouth and she couldn’t be bothered to care anymore. King didn’t care, why should she?

What happened to this family? What happened to this family?

Gentle hands grabbed at Mouse’s wrists, pulling them away from her face and forcing her gaze upwards, light blue eyes meeting soft and worried warm brown ones. “What’s going on?” “I-I’m gonna lose him,” she choked out, shaking her head as she tried to pull away from her, although Mom had tightened her grip almost instantly, not in an angry way, just to stop Mouse from running like she always did. “Lose who?’ “King!”

(Have I let you down?)

The yell later that afternoon shook the house, echoing up the stairs and slamming its way through King’s headphones. “Levi Santos!” He paused, taking one earphone off and glancing towards his shut door. Had he done something? “I emptied the dishwasher, did my laundry this week, I haven’t vacuumed but she knows I have homework so she can’t be mad about that, done all the church work, haven’t gone to the park in a while - she’s grateful for that… My stash is hidden, so it can’t be that either…” he mumbled to himself as he got up from his chair, trying to run through the list of anything else in his head that he might’ve done wrong. Maybe it was like those pranks where you fake being mad at someone and then give them a present? ‘Those pranks only existed on TV though,’ he reminded himself. ‘Nobody really does that.’ With a shrug, a heavy sigh and pounding heart, King opened his door and began his painfully slow trip towards the stairs and then down them, suddenly mindful of every noise he made, the squeak and creak of each stair and the way his shaky breath rattled in his chest. He finally made it down the steps and turned the corner into the kitchen, moving his eyes from the floor up towards the owner of the voice. His heart sank down into the floor as he made eye contact with his mother, who looked both concerned and so pissed off he was worried he might have to take cover - he hadn’t worried about that in a while. Her arms were crossed over her chest while Mouse sat on the counter behind her, sniffling and wiping at her eyes constantly, gaze fixed on the floor and her eyes had only met King’s once before she instantly turned away, the guilt seeping out of her immediately. His father stood to the right of his mother, leaning against one of the kitchen chairs as he stared him down, a clear, disappointed look on his face. Finally, he spoke. “Yeah?”

Texts, calls, hugs, birthday cards Being thoughtful can be so hard

King rolled over in bed at the sound of his phone buzzing. He groaned, turning towards his nightstand and out of Bruiser’s hold. He could tell it was Bruiser’s by the way her hands curled around his waist, whereas Spot would hold him around the chest.

He reached towards his phone, nails scrabbling on the case and pulling it loosely towards him.

He pressed on the home button, wincing instantly as bright white light filled the small space between him and the phone.

“Shit,” he cursed, hearing B groan from beside him at the disturbance and began to turn down the brightness until he had to squint to see properly.

His gaze flickered over the few notifications he had, one from a family group chat so old he forgot when it was made, most of the numbers not in his contacts anymore, but he’d always recognize the date.

It was mom’s birthday.

First fifteen years, I'm the favorite son Last fifteen years, I'm thе hated one

Multiple messages flitted across the screen of best wishes and of happy birthdays.

He almost smiled fondly, but then quickly remembered the deafening silence that came from the same group chat on his own birthday, which hadn’t been more than a month ago.

He celebrated all their birthdays, or tried to. Wishing them well on social media and in private, but the sentiment was never returned.

It felt like a chore to even lift his fingers to type.

‘Happy Birthday Mom, I love you <3’

He set his phone down and tried to roll back over and ignore the heavy weight on his mind.

It had been years. Nearly 12 years ago.

Why couldn’t they just forgive him?

Why didn’t they care?

King turned back to his phone at the sound of it vibrating again and he glanced at the lock-screen, the sole notification reading:

Message not delivered.

This heart of minе Gets blacker all the time

King curled up, kicking his phone off the bed and causing it to hit the floor harshly, knocking against the wall with a thud.

He blinked rapidly to try and clear tears from his vision as he stared at the floor, ignoring the feeling of B stirring beside them. They didn’t really care at the moment.

It felt like there was a cage around his heart, locking him up and swallowing him whole. He couldn’t be bothered to care. About his family or anyone else. He just felt bitter and alone. Like a kid again.

They brought their knees up to his chest, resting his head on them with a shaky sigh, tear tracks forming lines on his cheeks as he began to break silently, hoping to not disturb Bruiser or Spot. They needed the rest. They needed a break from him, from all his shit.

There was no need to annoy them all now.

King sniffled, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve as he tried to force himself to calm down, chest heaving and shaking. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Who really cared? ‘Well obviously not them’, he reminded themselves.

He took in a deep breath, hoping that slowing down his breathing would do the same for his tears and panic.

“King?”

Affection makes me nauseous Believe me, I don't want this

King turned, sniffling again and rolled over, seeing Bruiser sitting up, looking over at him with worry shining in her eyes, even King could tell that much in the dark.

“Baby what’s wrong?” She asked gently, shuffling closer to King, who shuffled farther back in response, almost falling off the bed.

“It’s nothing, just go back to sleep,” they mumbled. That was always how it was. Bottle it up and be the big brother, the perfect son.

Fucking hell he was sick of that, and he wasn’t even in the damn house anymore.

“You can tell me kotik.”

‘You don’t want to hear it. You really don’t.’

“I don’t want to talk about it,” King answered dryly, voice hoarse from how little he had been using it.

Bruiser gave a hum in reply. “Okay love.” An arm snaked around King’s waist, pulling him close into a hug and holding him tight despite the way King tensed and froze.

It made him want to curl up and cry again, to vomit off the side of the bed. He loved Bruiser, but now was not the time. It felt like too much, his skin was crawling and he shuddered.

‘I can’t take this anymore.’

“Please let me go.”

“Oh, kotik, I’m sorry—“

“Just go back to bed.”

I hurt my blood tonight I made my sisters cry

King stomped up the stairs, anger forcing away the thoughts of panic and terror, forcing away all the tears.

“Ilaria!” He practically screamed as he trudged into their bedroom, door slamming behind him; both his tone and the slam making Mouse jump from where she sat on the bed.

Mouse only squeaked in surprise and fear, curling close to herself and remaining silent. Her ice blue gaze flickering from him to the bed, too scared to actually meet his eyes.

“Ilaria what did you tell them?!” King screamed, hands balling up into fists, nails digging into his palms to stop himself from blowing up too quickly. He stopped himself, holding a hand up to stop Mouse from saying anything. “No. no, WHY did you tell them?!” Mouse gave a small mumble in reply though King couldn’t catch what she had said. “What was that?” “I had…” “Shortie, for once in your damn life, speak up. Cause this time it matters. Speak. The fuck. Up.” A stifled sob came from Mouse, placing her sleeve covered hand over her mouth to try and muffle it further. She couldn’t cry, not in front of him. “I-I had to! Okay? You’re killing yourself every day with this and you don’t even care! You don’t care about anyone, not me or mom or dad! Nothing matters to you and I couldn’t lose you like that!” She admitted, voice cracking and breaking periodically throughout her speech as she shook her head, unable to hide her tears. “Lose me?” King repeated with a bitter laugh. “Lose me? Seriously?” “Look- I’m sorry but-” “No. You don’t get to do that!” King snapped, fire blazing in his eyes as he took a few powerful steps towards Mouse’s bed, the girl pressing herself into the wall in fear. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to apologize and move on. It’s not fair! It is not your business or your thing to tell! It wasn’t your problem! It’s not all about you!” “And this isn’t about me! It’s about helping you!” “Oh sure,” King scoffed, rolling his eyes and taking a step away. “Like anyone would believe that.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “All this; when you think about it, is about you. It’s always been for you. I have to go and be the big brother, I have to go and hold you till you forget the nightmares and all the other bullshit. I have to help you on Christmas, I have to be there for you, all the damn time. You don’t really want me, you don’t want me to stay. You just want a therapist. Because you know nobody else can tolerate all this bullshit!” Mouse stared back at him, tears forming in her eyes and spilling over easily, like a waterfall held back by a dam ready to burst. She couldn’t hold it back anymore; horrible ugly sobs began to claw their way up from her throat and escaping from her mouth. “You are the worst brother!”

I never say, "I love you" Even though I want to

“So? You think I care what you think about me? You think I ever cared about you?” King snarled, glaring back at Mouse. “You don’t mean that!” “I do. And you know that I’m gonna leave regardless.” “You can’t.” “I will. I’m done being here.” Mouse let out a frustrated and hurt growl, chucking her pillow at King as she got up and stomped towards the door. She shoved past him, knocking him to the side as she left, slamming the door.

Her voice was filled with tears and unbridled anger as she left, hurt shining clear through the cracks in the façade Mouse always kept up. “You are an asshole, King. I wish we never met!”

I'm just my father's son My mother's kid

King slid down as the door slammed shut, his breath rattling in his ribcage, his heart finally starting to pound in his chest, threatening to escape somehow. The adrenaline was beginning to fade, the pain and fear of the situation taking over. It was over. Well, part of it was. Part of his life was, really. An era was coming to an end. He took in quick, heaving breaths as he worked himself into a panic, not on purpose of course, but he couldn’t stop himself, listening to the heavy footsteps of Mouse and the sobs that echoed throughout the house from the rest of the family. He’d let everyone down. The tears he’d been holding back for too long finally were let loose and he began to sob, rocking himself alone on the carpet, his clothes scattered, half thrown into a suitcase. Had Mouse been packing for him? Why did she care? A shitty brother I'm nobody's friend

King began to sob, curling up further on the floor while the bottle a few feet away taunted him, calling out to him. They’d always win in the end. They’d always have some power over his life. There was no stopping it. There was no stopping the way he sobbed and rocked himself and eventually crawled pathetically towards the bottle. There was no stopping his shaking hands from cracking open the lid and shaking more than enough pills into his hands. It was fate. Connected by a red string. Tethered.

This is all my fault I only make you cry I don't deserve this family

Just about an hour later, an hour of sobbing and silent screaming, pleading for something, anything to take him out. If there was a god, why didn’t take him out now? He was tired, he was done. An hour of packing and wondering, why him? Why? Why was he the one that was all messed up? Why did he have to take on everyone else’s stuff? Why was he the one who had to go to church? Why was he the one born into all of this?

(You're better off without me) It really was just his fault. He was the one who had convinced his parents to leave him, somehow. Although he was only eight. Something about him convinced them so easily. It was his fault, he had caused it all, if you thought about it. If he didn’t make them leave, this wouldn’t be happening. If he didn’t make them leave, he wouldn’t be trudging down the stairs, a far too heavy duffel bag slung over his shoulders. If he didn’t make them leave, he wouldn’t be grabbing the smallest amount of water and granola bars he could to take away with him. He had no idea when he’d eat next. Or where he’d be. If he didn’t make them leave, he wouldn’t be making his way down to the skatepark, puffy eyed and red faced, sniffling all the way. Why did he make them leave? 'Cause I let you down And I lost my fucking mind

-- “Yeah?”

King’s gaze timidly flickered between mom and dad’s faces, scared for what was going to come next, and be rightfully should’ve been.

“Why have you been doing drugs?”

“What?”

“You heard me. Why are you doing drugs?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” King spat back , throwing his hands up in defense. Unless they had evidence, he was going to deny it. He already knew their stance on drugs, saw all their propaganda the church had given them about it. He knew. It had been drilled into his brain at every school assembly since the age of five.

“Ilaria told us!” His mother shouted back, tears in her eyes. “She told us everything.

“Oh everything? Really?” He asked, leaning to the side to look around at Mouse, who went to go hide more.

His mother nodded. “Yes, everything. I can't believe you would go and betray me like that after everything we taught you.”

“Betray you?”

Then everything got messy And everyone got angry

“You betrayed us! Losing yourself to these drugs, it’s selfish! You only take things for yourself. We gave you everything and this is how you repay us!”

“Maybe it’s all I could do to cope with all this bullshit!” King snapped, taking a step forward as his mom, with an arm around Mouse protectively, took a step back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dad asked, staring him down. He’d been mostly silent for the entire time.

“Maybe, it’s the only way I can deal with everything happening around me! Everything you forced me to be! The honors student! The perfect big brother to this nuclear family! All the stress and shit I have to handle on top of everything else that’s happened in my life!”

“You could’ve talked to us!”

King couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter at that, head thrown back for a moment as he laughed. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why couldn’t we talk? It’s how normal people sort things out.”

I cursed my blood tonight It happens all the time

King pointed at him, anger surging through his veins. “You knew,” he said. “You knew from the moment you took us both in, that we would be nothing but less than normal. The opposite of normal!” He snapped, eyes narrowed.

“You could’ve at least tried!” Dad interjected again.

“I’m not normal!“ He yelled again. “I’m a kid! A traumatized kid!”

“Oh Levi come on,” mother began again. “You’re hardly a kid anymore, and you’re not traumatized, you know this.”

“Really?” King asked, head cocked to the side. “Then all the shitty foster homes we were put in, everything that you know happened there, that’s not traumatizing, for young kids? Being bullied at my school? That’s not traumatizing either?”

“Now, listen—“

“—Oh! And I don’t know, being raped and beaten for the past four years at that stupid fucking church you make me go to constantly, that’s not trauma either?! Because I think that was pretty damn traumatizing!”

“You think you were what?“ Mother asked, voice now gentle as her eyes filled with tears.

“He raped me, mom.”

Is everyone against me? Has everyone goddamned me?

“No.”

King’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest, straight through the floor and to a faraway place. If he ever got it back, he’d be surprised.

Tears finally began to form in his eyes. “What?” He asked, voice small and cracking.

“No.” Mother said again, pulling Mouse to her chest. “That’s not true. You are a liar and we both know that. That didn’t happen.”

“But it did!”

“No, it didn’t, Levi!”

“Father Jon touched me!”

“No he didn’t! Father Jon is a nice man and you just want an excuse to get out of working and this argument. It doesn’t change the fact that you still have to work and you have to stop with the drugs if you want to be part of this family.”

“Then I guess I’m not part of this fucking family then.”

What happened to this family?

With a sob, Mouse fled upstairs, rushing to her room.

“You don’t mean that,” Dad sighed, shaking his head.

“I do. I’m done with all your bullshit. And if this is my way out, then this is it.”

“Levi!“ Mother scolded.“You can’t go.”

“Watch me!”

The door slammed harshly above their heads, Mouse had presumably slammed it.

The house shook with the force and a framed photograph behind them, a simple one of all of them together, smiling at the camera, hit the ground with a loud clatter.

His mom rushed to go pick it up, but shouted in response to finding glass all over the floor.

It had shattered.

When she finally picked it up, King saw that the most damage had been done to his part of the photo, the glass angrily cracked over his part.

He was done.

What happened to this family? King had made it to the skatepark successfully, although it had begun to rain.

He leaned against the duffel bag, teeth chattering as the rain went on, thunder rolling in behind it.

“Just great,” he grumbled to himself, gaze fixed on the street and the lights reflecting off of the puddles on the cement. It was pretty, it was something to focus on and remember.

Remember for what? He didn’t know.

He had about an hour until the street lights turned off and then he’d be pretty alone out there. Just him and his phone, which he’d forgotten to charge, stuck with 15%.

He sighed, bringing his knees up to his chest as he let himself begin to sob again. He’d been holding everything back since the house. They always made him hold it in. Every emotion and thought that wasn’t perfectly positive.

Why did they hate him?

Why did Mouse have to hate him?

He thought he’d at least have her in this mess, but he lost her too. That was his own fault.

It all was.

What happened to this family?

The sound of car tires on the pavement and the low hum of an engine pulled him out of his thoughts.

A woman leaned out of the window of her Jeep, black hair hanging down out of the window with her.

“Hey kid!“ she called, a clear Russian accent clinging to her voice.

He looked up more, straightening up. “Yeah?”

“You need somewhere to go?” She asked, squinting at him through the wire fence.

“Uh… sorta.” He knew it was bad to take shelter from strangers, especially this young. But if he was being honest? He didn’t care what happened to him now. Maybe it would get his family to care again, if something tragic happened.

But then again, they didn’t care when he told them something tragic already happened.

“Get in here then. I have a couch, a pull out.”

King quickly got up, grabbing his soaking wet bag and hauling it towards the Jeep.

He opened the back door and tossed his bag in before climbing into the passenger seat.

“My name is Natasha. You’re safe here.”

King looked up at her, nodding gratefully.

“What’s your name?”

“Le- King. My name’s King.”

What happened to this family? King had stayed at Natasha’s for a day or two, until he found a motel nearby. It was just until he picked up something to do for work.

He would’ve loved to stay with Natasha, she was wonderful and told him many stories of her life in the few days he had been there. But she had her own work, one that mostly involved being home, and King couldn’t be home for that. So they parted ways, although he wished he would see her soon.

So there he was, sitting on the edge of a motel bed, swiping through his old pictures on his phone. He didn’t know how long until they cut him off of their phone plan, so he was trying to make the most of it while he could.

But there in front of him, he found more and more photos that made him feel sick to his stomach.

Their middle school graduation, countless Christmases and Halloweens (even though they always told them that they were too old for trick or treating. They didn’t care) were on display for him to see.

He broke at the most recent photo, the one of them on his birthday.

He was smiling still.

Mouse’s arms around his neck, he was giving her a piggyback ride, even though it was his birthday.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, running his hands over the photo before he began to sob, sides shaking as he dissolved into inconsolable sobs, as if he had anyone there to console him.

He was alone.

Don't hate me And he was alone again in the hospital after he had tried just about everything that night to leave.

It was past 3 am and he laid there, curled up and alone. Nobody had come to see him, they had called, even though King begged them not to, and nobody showed up.

Not even Mouse.

He sighed, rolling over onto his side, tears slipping from his eyes for what must’ve been the thousandth time that day.

Why did he have to go and screw everything up?

No wonder they left him.

Everyone leaves.

Don't hate me

Eventually, he found somebody.

Somehow.

He had reconnected with Natasha, who decided to set him up with Spot, another boy in search of a roommate for his apartment.

So, King had settled in with him and Natasha, thankfully, had set him up with a job, working with her technically, even though it wasn’t legal. It worked though, he worked, and it helped pay the bills, which was all that mattered to him.

Spot was a scrawny boy with blonde hair, from Brooklyn. He had a clear accent and was dead set on becoming a tattoo artist. And to be honest? He was pretty damn good at it.

Spot had given him his first tattoo.

It was just a simple crown on his collarbone, but it had meant the world to him.

Ever since then, they had become quite inseparable and King had turned into an occasional practice canvas.

That didn’t matter too much to him though. He was just glad to not be alone anymore.

And for once, the hauntings of his nuclear family days stopped chasing him.

Maybe he’d be okay.

Don't let me drown

King sighed as he clicked off of his laptop. The song, well the writing part, was finally done. Which meant he could go back to lounging in bed with Spot and Bruiser.

That was all he wanted to do.

To lay with them, to be alone together.

With them, silence was comfortable.

He glanced down at Mouse, there was a missed call. He chuckled, probably her being eager to get on the guitar parts of the new song.

They made their way into the bedroom and leaned through the door.

“Loves,” he began. “Can I steal Bruiser for the studio?”

“It’s 9 in the morning,” B groaned in reply, pulling a pillow over her head.

“You can steal her,” Spot added with a chuckle, his voice was rough and deep from how early it was and King would be lying if he said that the sound of it didn’t make them flush slightly.

“Bruiserrrr,” King called. “Come onnnn.”

King waited by the door for a few minutes until Bruiser was finally up and ready and he pulled them along towards the studio, waving goodbye to Spot, who was most likely asleep again.

I hate goodbyes So cringey, I could die

“So, I’m thinking Mouse you can come in like… here, with the guitar, y’know to start?” King tried to explain, hands up in the air as he tried to visually section each part off. “And then everyone else comes in?”

Mouse gave him a confused glance, but gave it a shot anyway, beginning to strum at her guitar.

“This is all my fault, I only make you cry, I don’t deserve this family, you’re better off without me,” King had begun to sing after they had gotten all the other parts down.

Letting all of the words and feelings out at once, stuck in the cavern of his chest, felt therapeutic in a way, even though his voice was shaking more than the rest of his body and tears flooded his vision.

“Cause I let you down!”

We only say, "I love you" 'Cause that's what we're supposed to

Now came the part King was both the most and least excited for. He loved his idea for the music video, but getting to execute it? He had no idea how he was going to do that.

He had the projectors and everything, he’d had the band help him paint the barn floor and walls white in that spot so it was easier to see and Mouse was able to get some footage from their childhood.

Of course they let her have some.

He couldn’t even get a text from them, let alone a damn video.

He sighed, feeling anger bubble up inside him. He’d be able to let all of that out soon anyway.

He sat himself down in front of the wall and set the lights to blue and started the camera and music again.

“Let’s just try this again…”

‘Just keep your head up and look at the camera and…’

“Taste bitter on a guilty tongue.”

And most families lie But I meant it every time

King squinted at the bright screen, the dark of the barn settling in around him. Katniss settled at his feet, purring quietly while he worked, arranging the clips in different spots.

He was almost done, and he was very done with watching his own face for more than two days straight. But everything had to be perfect.

He needed to be perfect.

They needed to see it. They needed to know.

Someone needed to know the pain of the past fifteen years. He couldn’t keep holding it in like they wanted him to.

He wasn’t the perfect son they wanted. There was no way he could be.

But sometimes he still wished he was. Sometimes he longed for the boy who was trapped in his room, with a cavern for a heart and no time to breathe.

He missed being that hollow but at least having arms around him, warmth to come home to and guide him.

But then he stopped and glanced towards his house in the distance, it was only a quick walk away from the barn and he could see the lights were still on.

They were waiting for him to come home.

He already had his family waiting for him.

Then treat you like you're worthless I never said I'm perfect.

#oc king #oc mouse #oc bruiser #marked monarchs

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twistedstxrs · 1 year

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Get to Know The Mun:

name: AJ gender: Female star sign: Scorpio my time is: 1:58pm height: 4′11 - 5′0 age: 30 (today is my birthday so) wallpaper on phone: dreamcatchers house: Slytherin ever crush on a teacher: Yeah, only reason I enjoyed gym in high school lol coolest Halloween costume: Scoops Ahoy Steve Harrington ;3 favorite 90s show: Sailor Moon, The Little Mermaid last kiss: Uh my babe gif kissed me the 29th, emoji kissed me the 31st.. does that count? have you ever been stood up: Ehh, sorta. favorite pair of shoes: My black and pink lace converses. have you ever been to Vegas?: Nope favorite book: DKHM by Dacre Montgomery. stupidest thing you’ve ever done: Uh, honestly there is a few stupid things I’ve done so really lmfao. all time favorite shows: Sailor Moon, ER, Cold Case, Masked Singer, CSI, Saved By The Bell, Stranger Things, The Little Mermaid, Wizards Of Waverly Place, Queer As Folk, 13 Reasons Why, Full House. last movie you saw in theatres: Do believe it was either Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom or Godzilla: King Of Monsters... Lmfao

Tagged by: Stole it.

Tagging: Anyone that wants to do it

#✪↬ɪ ωαѕ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ; ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ↫✪ ✘Mun✘

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bowieandqueen11 · 4 years

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Birthday Queen / Jareth Headcanons

Request: Hiii, love! I just fell in love with your last Jareth headcanons, you’re simply awesome! I was wondering when you have time could you please write some headcanons about our dear Goblin King celebrating his girl’s birthday? I have a birthday at the end of August and this will be just amazing! 😘😘😘😘

Ahh happy early birthday, I hope you have a wonderful day my dear! <3

Jareth, of course, would spoil you in the only way he knows how, by going completely over the top.

He manages to find some old decorations stored away in one of the dusty old rooms of the castle. It was definitely an interesting sight, walking in on him and about a dozen goblins on ladders, or trying to jump onto the ceiling, gold and bronze streamers hanging down around your head. Jareth would be half standing off one of the ladders, elbow resting on a step as he huffs, shouting directions at the poor goblins who are running about the place trying to put up banners.

The sentiment was nice - the execution, perhaps, not so great when one of the goblins runs into the ladder Jareth was resting on and sends them both tumbling to the floor at your feet.

He would also make his goblins help him bake a massive cake, about eight tiers, in all your favourite flavours. Baking it in his tight black trousers and nice white dress shirt was perhaps not the best idea though, as he ends up covered from head to toe in chocolate, sprinkles, cream, as if he had rolled around in all the ingredients first before baking them.

In the end, when the huge cake finally collapses under its own weight and slides in a wet lump onto the floor, he decides to bake you a more manageable one himself.

Swiping a bit of cream off the floor and placing it onto his nose was fun though. His frown instantly turned into a grin, and you laughed and turned on your heel to run when he started scooping up bits of cake and throwing it at you in a massive food fight.

Kissing it off his lips when the two of you were covered was definitely the best present of all.

He would spend the whole morning of your birthday with you, cuddling up to you in bed. He would be the big spoon, his hair tickling your cheeks as he pressed warm, slow kisses up your neck and pulled you against his chest. When he finally decides to entangle his legs from yours, and leaves you sighing on the four poster bed, he returns after a few minutes with your favourite breakfast on a tray.

He would bring you a really rare flower as a present, one only to be found in the hidden forests right at the edge of the Labyrinth, saying it reminded him of you, his precious flower.

He also gives you a locket with your initials carved into it, to remind you of him whenever he had to go away for a while.

Coming towards the end of the evening, he would surprise you with a massive ball he had thrown in your honour. Ignoring all the beautiful ballgowns and the sparkles that seemed to float through the light like stardust, he kept his eyes on you the whole evening with such a gentle, from the heart smile. His hand never led your waist, his lips brushing your forehead as the two of you spent the whole night dancing as the King and the beloved Queen of the Labyrinth.

#jareth #Jareth x Reader #jareth imagine #david bowie #Labyrinth #labyrinth movie #labryinth imagine #labyrinth x reader #The Goblin King #the goblin king imagine #the goblin king x reader #the goblin king fluff #bowie #david bowie imagine #bowie imagine #jareth headcanons #labyrinth headcanons #the goblin king headcanons

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high-warlock-of-brooklyn · 3 years

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take every chance, drop every fear

Note: The art is made by the brilliant and amazing @miss-shiva-adler Thank you so much for agreeing to collab with me, you have been so terrific 💙

Summary: The Clave has given a mandate for Simon- a new mission. Get the dagger that killed the first Shadowhunter, and get it quickly. Only problem? The dagger is in possession of Jace Herondale, the continent's most notorious Vampire King. Simon has to fulfil the mission, come what may. Except, the Vampire is already aware of his intentions, and is ready to face him. The result is sure to be deadly for at least one of them. Except, the mission doesn't go the way either of them expect.

Ao3: LINK

---------

“I’m going.”

“No you’re not.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“Like hell I can’t.”

Simon sighs, putting the briefing file back on the ops table. “Are you going to be like this the entire mission?”

“No.” Raphael shakes his head. “I’m not. Because there’s not going to be a mission in the first place.”

“Raphael, this isn’t your decision to make.” Simon crosses his arms.

“Okay. You’re right.” Raphael scowls. “This is your mission. But I have to say, it’s a very stupid mission.”

“What’s so stupid about it? It’s literally the simplest mission we’ve ever done. Even the Clave signed off on it.” Simon shrugs. “Get in, get the dagger, get out. It’s that easy.”

“Except for the part where you’re going into the lair of a Vampire king who’s been known to hold grudges against Shadowhunters in the past, and who guards his property more fiercely than a Draconea .”

Simon seems to bristle at that. “You don’t think I can do this?”

“I didn’t say that. I just don’t want you going in without backup. We’re Parabatais, we’re supposed to watch each other’s backs.” Raphael explains, his tone softening. Simon’s face brightens like a Mundane child on Christmas morning. “Aww you want to come with me! You want to keep me safe! I knew you were a softie inside, you big ole huggy bear.”

Raphael’s scowl deepens. “I know two hundred and sixty ways to kill someone and make it look like an accident, don’t tempt me.”

“Noted.” Simon offers him a lopsided smile. “This isn’t gonna be a cakewalk, I know that. I just- I know I’m up to it. And I’m long due for assignments anyway, I’ve been on patrol duty for way too long.”

“Nothing wrong with good old fashioned Shadowhunting,” Raphael remarks. “But if you’re so adamant, I’m going to help you with the plan.”

“I already told you my plan.” Simon reminds him.

“Yeah and I said it’s a stupid plan.” Raphael rolls his eyes. “Listen, I might not be inside watching your back, but I’ll be damned if I send you in without a proper plan. And no- don’t you dare-” he slaps away Simon’s attempt to squeeze his cheeks, “Don’t try to stop me.”

“Aye aye boss.” Simon offers him a mock salute, earning another eyeroll.

“Now I was thinking we could chart the ins and outs of the DuMort, maybe get some floor plans from the Archive.” Raphael says.

“I have a better idea,” Simon follows him out of the ops centre. “There have been missions of this type that I’ve seen before, and I was thinking we could maybe go through those. Learn how it works.”

“There has?” Skepticism clouds Raphael’s face, “I thought the Clave didn’t normally allow missions like this.”

“I know,” Simon nods gravely, “But these are crucial. You could even say that they provide- leverage .”

That stops Raphael in his tracks, the older Parabatai groaning as he pieces it together. “Simon Levi Lovelace, tell me you’re not going to put me through hours of a Mundane heist movie.”

“Of course not. I won’t make you sit through a movie.” Simon assures him, before breaking into a shiteating grin. “It’s a tv series!”

“Ay dios mio.”

---------------

“I can’t believe you’re still grumpy about this.”

“I’m your Parabatai, I’m allowed to be grumpy about your lack of self-preservation instincts.” Raphael tells him flatly.

“Why are you so upset? I’ve done vigorous research as you’re aware!” Simon protests weakly.

“Watching hours of tv and reading up on the man is not enough. What if you need an exit strategy quickly?” Raphael holds out a hand, a tiny round disk on it. “I asked Lily to make this specifically for you. Put it in your ear.”

“If I had a dollar for every time someone asked me to put something in my ear, I’d have two dollars. Which isn’t much but it’s weird that it has happened twice.” Simon looks at the device, debating the decision in his mind. “I know you’re concerned about my safety, and I appreciate the gesture, but I can’t take it.”

“Listen-”

Simon cuts him off before he can complain further. “I’m not refusing it because I want this to be a solo mission. I’m not taking this because Jace Herondale is the most powerful vampire on this continent and I’d rather not be caught with a device on me that crackles every time it turns on. He’ll expose me in a second. I have to focus on keeping my heartbeat even and my glamour intact, I can’t have any other distractions.”

Raphael stays silent for a moment, and Simon worries that he has insulted his best friend by declining the clearly thoughtful gift. But Raphael is nodding in agreement the next moment, and relief almost knocks Simon off his feet.

DuMort looks as sullen and abandoned as it perpetually does, and Simon feels tendrils of insecurity creep in as he stands outside wearing a white t shirt under the black leather jacket he raided from Raphael’s closet.

What if the intel was wrong and there’s no party at all and he looks like a fool when he has to go back to the Institute empty handed?

His hands fly to fidget with the cuffs of his jacket, nervously bouncing on his toes. Finally, after an excruciating wait of three minutes, Simon spots the stray lights of a strobe, a distant thumping vibrating the ground under his feet. He walks into the building, his senses at the highest of his abilities. Simon isn’t sure if it’s because of all the runes he’s activated under his glamour, or his anxiety sending a tingling sensation at his fingertips.

A healthy dose of each, he supposes.

The thumping of bass increases tangentially the closer he gets to the party venue. Simon spots no less than six vampires lounging in the dark corridors, a few perched on the banisters. It’s not something to inspire confidence, but it’s certainly a manageable number, if a situation rises. Finally, after a few minutes of going through some of the most complicated floor plans he’s ever seen, he comes face to face with the actual venue.

The party is….well there is a reason the Vampire king’s parties have a certain reputation .

There are aerial acrobats hanging from the chandelier that’s roughly the size of Simon’s room in the Institute, worth way more than he can probably imagine. The buzz of music is ever present, the bass shaking him to his very bones. Numerous waitstaff in wide ranges of clothing mingle in the crowd, offering drinks to the patrons.

The Herondale Clan symbol can be seen standing stark against the ashen skin of their wrists, the tattoo of a set of fangs biting a dagger dripping blood seared in his memory from Raphael’s in depth briefing. The knowledge does very little to soothe his nerves, hands flying to fidget with the decorative chains on his jacket.

One of the waitresses approaches him, and Simon debates between turning her away to remain alert but risk sticking out, or drinking anyway and take a gamble on his generally lightweight nature. But turns out he doesn’t need to make a decision after all, as she puts a glass of golden liquid in front of him, gesturing to the back of the club when he looks at her curiously, leaving just as gracefully as she came.

Simon picks the glass up, the doubtless expensive glass a comforting weight in his hands. The back of the club is darkly lit, adorned with only a single leather sofa big enough for two people, three at most. Simon tries not to stare, all the wheels in his mind whirring loudly to figure out just who would send him a drink so soon since his arrival.

Call it a professional curiosity.

At last, the strobe overhead flashes in the direction he’s been squinting at for the past three minutes, and Simon catches a flash of golden hair, and a set of glowing mismatched eyes, and all the bells in his head go off at once.

-----------

Jace is trying really hard not to be offended. He really is.

It’s one thing to come to the farce they call Clave Downworlder Relations meetings and lie to his face. He expects that after so many years in the Shadow World. It’s another thing to plan to steal from right under his nose.

The moment his informant at the Institute told him about the operation, he was ready for the Shadowhunter to step into his club, so he could rip his throat out and get on with his night without a hitch.

He just didn’t expect the guy to be so non threatening. Almost……. cute .

Well it’s not a hindrance really, definitely not a wrench into his plans. More like a ring lost in a birthday cake dough that you only notice after baking. A spilled ice cream scoop at most.

Whatever, Jace thinks. He’s just going to have to toy a little with the guy before he kills him.

----------

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

Simon tries not to bristle or let any excitement show as the golden haired vampire claims the seat next to him at the bar, the crowd parting reverently to make space for him. Simon fidgets in his seat, hoping the man assumes his racing pulse as excitement rather than the truth.

He’d rather not die so soon into the assignment. Who’d finish his new Lego set?

The vampire gestures at the bartender for a drink, not taking his eyes off of Simon even for a second. The bartender, a wiry pale man, almost passable for a Mundane were it not for the purple eyes devoid of any iris. He hands over a drink to Herondale’s hand, the liquid sloshing against the rim in his hurry. Simon notices the dark red of it in the pulsing strobe light, and shudders inside.

Blood .

Simon takes a deep breath, settling his nerves. He’s a Nephilim. This is a mission. There is no room for error. He takes a swig of his drink before speaking, the alcohol warming its way down his throat. “You know everyone who comes here?”

“I never forget a face. Besides, I’d remember a face that pretty.” The vampire answers smoothly. Simon hopes the warmth in his cheeks is from the alcohol and not the implication of whatever this is.

Hope being a loose word.

“I’m Jace Herondale, I own this place.” the blond nods at him, lips stretching in a brilliant smile. A set of fangs behind his flawless set of teeth glint in the club lights, and Simon feels a shiver go down his spine.

“Simon.” He offers, stopping himself before he blurts out the Lovelace part. Herondale raises an eyebrow.

“Just Simon?”

“Just Simon. For tonight anyway.” The brunette purses his lips.

“Well then, Just Simon ,” the vampire’s eyes sparkle with mirth, looking Simon up and down, then offers an elbow casually, “You look like someone who could use some air. Fancy a tour?”

Simon straightens in his bar stool. “Mr Herondale, I-”

“Jace, please. I insist.” Herondale smiles dangerously.

“Jace.” Simon says slowly, as if feeling out the sound of it first. “I have to say, I’m not as easy to impress as I look.”

“Well then,” the blond smirks, “I guess I will have to try my best.”

Simon takes the offered arm, walking towards the back of the club, and up the stairs towards a lavish penthouse at the top of the DuMort.

The eagle has landed in the nest, Simon thinks, the eagle has landed in the freaking nest!

---------------

It’s like taking candy from a baby honestly. Well, not that he’d actually take candy away from a child. He might be a bastard Vampire king, but even he’s not that much of an asshole.

Jace guesses it’s more like tearing throats of pretty, unaware Shadowhunters.

The Nephilim gapes as they step into the penthouse. Jace suppresses the urge to laugh as the boy stares at the glass ceiling, the New York sky resplendent with millions of stars, the Milky Way partially visible this time of year. “Cat got your tongue?” He asks. The Shadowhunter almost forces himself to tear his eyes away, as if regretting it the second he does.

Jace feels curious if Nephilims do ever get to have the time to look up at the stars.

“This- this is, just brillian- wait.” Simon stops in the middle of the drawing room, “Don’t sunlight also come in?”

“It’s reinforced. UV resistant.” Jace explains. “Made for people with sun allergies.”

Simon nods in understanding, face sincere. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Jace answers. “Come on, I have something to show you.”

Simon follows him wordlessly, remnants of the childlike wonder still on his face, until he notices the narrow lobby and hand flies instinctively towards the breast of his jacket.

As if Jace wasn’t already feeling the glare of the adamas stele in his pocket.

Jace resists the urge to scowl. In his long life, if he knows one thing, it’s that Shadowhunters respond well only to one language.

He’ll show them what violence can mean.

-----------------

“Why do you have four different bathtubs? In four different bathrooms as well?” Simon asks confusedly. “Seems kind of overkill.”

“So I can bathe however I like.” Jace shrugs. “Three of those are for specific moods, and one is for spaghetti baths.”

Simon stares at him for a moment. “I honestly don’t even want to know.” Jace laughs, throwing his head back. Simon tries not to pay attention to how beautiful the man looks when he smiles.

“It’s an inside joke.” Jace explains, before straightening up, expressions smoothing to neutral ones. “There’s something I’d like to show you. Come on.”

The man moves closer into the penthouse, and Simon follows, mapping out the escape routes almost instinctively, noting how far they are from any immediate help should he need to avail it in an emergency. There’s a twinge of disappointment somewhere underneath the part of his brain that has been trained for two and a half decades to be vigilant, and Simon has to remind himself to focus on the matter at hand.

Right. The mission.

“Here.” Jace gestures at an open door to a separate part of the structure, light from inside the room illuminating his golden locks into a resplendent sunlit glow. The Vampire offers him a tight lipped smile, and Simon notices the deadlocks on the door, and a set of biometric scanners that shouldn’t be needed for a vampire.

What the hell is he keeping in there? And what exactly does he want with Simon?

“Listen.” Jace says hesitantly before Simon can step inside, hand on the doorknob. “I haven’t really shown this room to anyone. This is somewhat of a private indulgence, and you are one of the only few to ever witness everything that’s in this room.”

Simon’s heart lurches, but he tries to keep the ruse going, lips stretched into a practiced smile. “Hey, at least if something’s missing, you’d know who to ask.”

“Yes I would.” Jace answers, fangs shining as he offers a sharp smile.

Simon is so fucking screwed.

----------------

“By the A-”

The Nephilim clamps both his hands over his mouth, possibly to keep himself from saying the name of their precious Angel. Jace pushes the eyeroll down under the feeling of knowing he rendered a Shadowhunter speechless.

“You- you have- this is- I mean I expected- but- but this- I-”

Simon sputters on, and Jace debates over how to approach the situation. He could keep up the ruse of this being a date and show off his prized possessions, and this would definitely send a clear message to the Clave not to mess with the vampire king ever again. Or he could step back and let the boy intimidate himself.

Oh well, his best friend has been telling him to practice subtlety for the past few centuries anyway.

Jace lets Simon go up to the aisles between the artifacts, eyes weaving between all them, as if trying to take them all in at once. Jace waits for a reaction, ready to relish in the knowledge that he outsmarted the Clave.

“This is the best day ever!”

Wait what?

-----------

It’s been a little over one and a half hours. They still haven’t left the collection room. Jace is beginning to fear he never will.

The Nephilim, to Jace’s utter astonishment, and more than a little disgruntled feeling, looks just as excited to see the sword that fell Vikramaditya as he is seeing the Black Volume of the Dead. He’s been over sixty such oddities, every single one of them the only one of their kind, either by nature or by design, eyeing them like a child on their birthday. He makes a mention of having a fascination with unique artifacts like these since childhood, telling Jace everything he knows about them, seeking out any extra facts the age old Vampire might know that a historical record could have missed.

Jace is starting to suspect the Clave sent this specific Nephilim planning to undermine his strategies.

Not that he’d ever admit that it’s working. Nope.

He definitely does not preen as Simon tames the usually wild Black Volume like a house cat. He absolutely does not smile indulgently when Simon gushes over the kukri used to stab Genghis Khan affectionately.

He scoffs at the mere notion that someone like him would ever even be anything other than wrathful at a Nephilim, let alone be…. fond .

Yet Simon is going up to the countless artifacts that any museum would sell all their available limbs for, and treating them the same way a Mundane might treat an old friend, and Jace’s lips quirk up in an amused smile without any conscious effort on his part.

Finally, finally, Simon rounds up the first room of the collection, coming to stand in front of a dais at the north-east corner where a single dagger lies buried in a mound of solid dirt, preserved in a decorative glass case, warlock charms the only thing keeping it the way it appears against the harshness of time.

Jace waits for something to happen, and feels something blooming deep under all the amusement and excitement and more than a little satisfaction, and tries to put a name to the feeling. It’s disappointment, he realizes a moment later.

It’s ever so rare to find someone who truly appreciates his collection, not for what they can be used for, but rather for what they represent- the undeniable unshakable proof of the world’s wonders, spanning millennia of history. It’s rarer for them to be the very joyous, caring and sweet way that he thinks is distinctly Simon.

That’s the reason for this sudden melancholy, Jace tells himself, because the alternative is so much worse. Especially when he’s going to have to wipe off the blood of the boy in front of him from his fingers in a few moments.

Simon’s back has gone ramrod straight, his expression troubled, and Jace wonders what lie he’s going to hear. Jace finds himself wondering if he will use adamas on him.

“I have a confession to make.” Simon says without turning back.

-----------

Raphael was right, he really has lost his mind.

“I need to tell you something.” Simon rambles on without a break, worried that the nerve he’s worked up will falter at the slightest pause. “I lied when I came here. I didn’t- I’m not- I’m not a Mundane. I’m a Shadowhunter. And this was my mission. To infiltrate the DuMort and obtain the dagger that killed Cain Shadowhunter. So that the Silent Brothers can study it.”

As Simon speaks, the glamour around him ripples as if every word is a stone cast in the water, and as he finishes, it falls away to nothing, showing the black runes stark against Simon’s pale skin.

Jace narrows his eyes, apprehensive of the Shadowhunter for an entirely different reason than he expected.

Simon keeps on talking. “I’m aware you might think I’m playing games with you, but I’m truly not, you can believe it. My Parabatai suggested a heist, not a con, and I wanted to do it alone. I watch a lot of Mundane TV you see, and I just wanted to test it out. Coming here undercover, flirting with you so you’d show me the dagger. All of it. But I wasn’t prepared for- for this.”

--------------

He’s done it, that wild Shadowhunter. He has managed to render Jace Herondale speechless.

He’s been expecting a lot of things. Lies. Accusations. Glamours. Even a fight. But not this. Not a clear admission of guilt. Not a confession. Not honesty.

Definitely not from a Shadowhunter of all people.

But standing in front of him, Simon looks as open as the book Jace’s mother used to read him, a time that seems like more than a few lifetimes ago. And just as familiar.

It’s not surprise, particularly, that makes him ask the question. Rather it’s the increasingly unsettling feeling, the uneasiness that claws inside some old forgotten part of him. “Why are you telling me this?” Jace asks, hoping the answer would tilt the world back into the way it was, the way it should be- a Shadowhunter cheating and lying their way into his lair, and him tearing them apart without a second thought.

But Simon, it seems, has a natural knack at surprising him.

He laughs, leaning forward, a clear sound Jace wants to hear again as soon as it subsides. His form shakes with the bouts of laughter, dark blue sneakers scuffing against the floor as Simon has to make a conscious effort to steady himself lest he topples the thirteenth century jade vase with a hidden message only to be read under clear moonlight.

Jace looks at him, questions swimming in his stare. Simon stops laughing for a second to catch his breath before he can answer.

“I’m telling you this because I’m an absolute idiot.” Simon wipes away a few stray tears that had sneaked their ways down his cheeks. “I’m a Shadowhunter, here to take back what is essentially historically ours. And I’m worried about you, the literal Vampire King, being sad.”

“What?” Jace asks, stupefied.

“My thoughts exactly.” Simon echoes. “Raphael is going to kill me.”

“Who?”

“My Parabatai,” Simon clarifies, then straightens up, shoulders rigid, the typical Shadowhunter mannerism shining through that lopsided smile. But even then, Jace notices it being filtered by a prism made of a good heart with an open mind. Then the Nephilim speaks, and the tone is, understandably, much more firm than it was a moment before.

“I have to take it. Dimensional portals are being breached, demons that haven’t been seen for millennia are swarming their way back. And we need more information. I’ll fight you if I have to. But really, you have to understand. This is a matter of safety of the whole Shadow World.”

That brings Jace back from his stupor, Simon’s words playing in his head on repeat like a beloved record. He squares his shoulders, regaining his lost composure, and regards Simon closely before he speaks. “I was aware of the ‘mission’, as you put it.” He silences Simon with a raised hand. “Yes, I have sources inside the Institute. Don’t insult my intelligence by arguing otherwise.”

“I was going to kill you once I caught you trying to steal the dagger.” Jace notices as Simon digs his nails in his palm, trying to fight off a shiver. “However, I have to admit, I was not ready for you to confess. And I was definitely not prepared for you to be so forthcoming with your intentions.”

Simon stares at him, expression resting somewhere between apprehensive and curious. “What should we do now, then?”

Jace turns, sitting against a high-backed leather chair he keeps inside the room. “In any case, I don’t see why we have to tarnish our professionalism.”

Simon squints in confusion. “You mean like a….. fight?”

“No, of course not. I see no reason we can’t be civilized.” Jace makes a show of mulling over the matter, before deciding on it. “I propose a deal.”

Simon crosses his arms. “I’m listening.”

“I offer the dagger to the Clave for their research, on loan . In return, I receive a generous compensation from the Institute.” Simon opens his mouth to ask something, but Jace keeps going on. “Let me finish. I also get a date with you. An actual one.”

That succeeds in shutting Simon up completely. The Shadowhunter stops, confident expression faltering at the face of the statement. He swallows, throat bobbing. “Why?”

“Why not?” Jace counters. “I had fun today, infiltration and all.” The blond smiles, as if letting Simon in on a private joke. “And it is awfully hard to find anyone that’s actually as interested in these as I am. I’ve been told most find these grim and improper for date night.”

“Ugh, amateurs.” Simon exclaims, face lit in a shining smile. “Okay then. I’ll go on a date. You know, for the greater good.”

“Ah, right. The greater good .” Jace teases.

---------------

“What the hell were you doing there for six hours?” Raphael asks in an accusatory tone as soon as he steps inside the Institute. Simon doesn’t answer, putting the wooden box gingerly on the ops table first, then shrugs off the jacket, bending his head this way and that to pop a muscle joint.

“You got the dagger.” Raphael says quietly as he opens the box. His eyes go wide once he takes in the content, enthralled to be in the presence of the stuff of legend every Nephilim child is told during bedtime.

“We have a mole here in the Institute.” Simon says, quiet enough only for Raphael to listen. The latter barely registers the words, eyes transfixed on the dagger at hand.

“Don’t be absurd.” Raphael scoffs.

“He knew about the mission, about me being undercover.” Simon raises an eyebrow.

That seems to snap Raphael out of whatever trance he’s been in ever since he took the dagger in hand. “What? Your cover’s blown?” Simon nods in agreement.

“We have to fix this right now.” Raphael puts the box away, focusing on the problem at hand. “We need to take Herondale out.”

“Already ahead of you, Rapha.” Simon claps a hand over his Parabatai ’s shoulder, assuring him. “We’re going out to Taki’s this Thursday.”

“Okay then.” Raphael nods along, before his face scrunches up as the words fully register. “Wait, what?!”

Simon can’t wait for Thursday.

#hmdiscord #nephilimdaily #idrisnnetdaily #tsccreatenet #dailyjimon #jimondaily #jace herondale #simon lewis #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc #the mortal instruments #tmi #jay.fic #collab fic #art

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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

Note

This might be a little self indulgent..

But HAPPPY BIRTHDAY (early) saw this event and couldn’t resist.. you know what I looks like and I’m a taurus .. Kavey is a taurus too so instead of me . Who would you ship Kavey with?? Since we all too well her adventures! Go for it sfw or nsfw it don’t matter! Tell sarad’ika she said Helloz too!! 🥰🥰😘😍❤️🥂🎊🎉🎉

I ship you with… Boba!!

Ok, like there was any doubt who your perfect match is. Your love story with Boba is one for the ages. You meet him when he’s still just a youngster, in his cocky heyday as a hotshot bounty hunter. Your wild side drew you to his swagger almost immediately. Likewise, Boba sees this knock-out blonde with all the confidence in the galaxy and he knows he’s got to have her under him as soon as possible. Once the initial sex-crazed part of the relationship quiets down a touch (and I do mean just a touch, this is Boba and Kave we’re talking about so the heat is off the charts), Boba realizes that he’s never met a woman who can handle him the way she can. When he’s struggling and feeling down, you are always there to hold him tight and pick him back up. You understand his demons in a way that no one else can. In the same way, Boba knows you struggle with your own monsters and dark past, and he’s there to quiet those voices in your head that say you’re not good enough or that you don’t deserve happiness. Fate and the Force sometimes seem against you, especially when you thought you lost him forever to the sarlacc. But through sheer grit and determination to get back to you, Boba survives and as you nurse him back to health, you thank the Maker for bringing you such a gift.

Now that Boba has regained his strength, reclaimed his armor, and has recently taken over Tatooine as the new crime king in town, everything is looking up for once. When your birthday comes around, you figure, Boba might arrange a nice dinner or something, but you’re not expecting anything too extravagant. Boba, however, has other ideas. He tells you to dress up and meet him in the throne room. When you enter you see flowers and elegant swaths of fabric decorating the room. There’s also so many of your friends there, including the new Mand’alor Din Djarin and his queen, your dear friend, Sarad’ika. She hands you a bouquet of flowers and attaches a veil to your head. You turn around in surprise to look at Boba. He’s standing there with that same cocky grin of his, holding out a wedding ring, and he says, “Come on now, Fox’ika, riduur, shouldn’t we finally make it official? Will you do me that honor?” Of course, you say yes, your eyes filling with tears of joy. Your friends watch as you exchange your vows and then you party all night long. Later in the wee hours it occurs to you that now your anniversary will also be your birthday and you ask him, “Wait a minute, did you do this today just so you won’t have to remember two dates?” He just chuckles, as he scoops you up in his arms and carries you off to make love to you for the first time as your husband.

The wedding ring!!

Do you want a ship? Check out my birthday event

#wiggles birthday event #boba fett #boba fett drabble #kavecika #boba x kave #star wars ships

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benhaardy · 5 years

Text

king of my heart || b.h.

(i apologize i do not know where this gif is from i found it on weheartit but im not sure thats who made it but here is the post. if you are the owner please let me know so i can credit or take it off at your request. thanks!)

Summary: Ben takes you to the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere and you reminisce of his accomplishments and your years-long friendship.

Request: Can you do a fluffy first kiss imagine with Ben? Thanks!

A/N: so uhhh the request was literally the simplest thing EVER but my extra ass had to put some Extra Sass™ upon this lol. idk why i wanted to go big for such a simple prompt but its ben and its his birthday today so HE DESERVES IT!

gotta add in that S H E E R D R E S S S H I R T because i’m still not over it, thank u, next.

the outfit i had in mind: dress (the one in the middle) shoes necklace earrings, though obviously you can imagine your own outfit.

song that the title/some of the fic is based off: king of my heart by taylor swift

obviously, i am a huge fan of the longtime best friends to lovers cliche and idk if anyone else thinks this but i write my characters as super affectionate in the first place so i hope it isn’t weird to anyone to have like the really touchy-feely best friends or friendships in my stories ig? idk, just a thought cause i literally just noticed how affectionate my characters are ANYWAYS here's wonderwall

thank you for sending a request in! hope you enjoy it!

also happy birthday to our king i hope he has a beautiful day

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings: a few frick words (2). fem!reader. mention of nudity. fluffy!! not proofread, but beta’d

“Ready, Y/N?” Ben called from downstairs

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You put the final touches of your outfit on. Perfume on your wrists, Tiffany necklace on, you went down the stairs carrying your nude Louboutins and adjusting your earrings. It wasn’t really your style to do any of this, really, but your best friend Ben had wanted to take you to the Bohemian Rhapsody premiere. Go big or go home, you figured. At his asking, you didn’t see or know what he was going to wear so you played it safe with a black dress.

You went down the stairs and got to the bottom floor. Ben was standing in the middle of the living room, back turned to you. He was looking down at the cat weaving in between his legs. As far as you could see, he was wearing an all black suit. “Ben?” you said. He whipped around to see you as you were putting on your shoes.

“Oh, wow, Y/N,” he beamed. Ben put his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide with surprise. “You look so good!” You opened your arms to embrace him, to which he stepped into, his arms around your waist.

After a few seconds, you both pulled away but his arms still stayed in their place and your hands lingered on his biceps. “I could say the same about you, Benny! Everything looks great!” He let you go fully. You looked up and down at his outfit. Sheer black dress shirt, black blazer and trousers, everything was tailored perfectly to his body. You grinned. He cleaned up very well, but it wasn’t like he didn’t dress nice in the first place.

“Ready to go?” he asked. “Car’s waiting outside.”

“Ready.”

You watched from the side of the carpet as the main cast were getting photographed together. That was your best friend! Standing next to Roger fucking Taylor and Brian fucking May. Everything still felt surreal, though he had been in the public spotlight for the past few years, this felt different. Your senses just felt heightened. The flashing lights, the hues of purple and pink and gold all around, surrounded by people you either knew well or were complete strangers to you. Your eyesight was crisp, noticing everything you could, taking it all in. You did musical theatre, you hadn’t really dealt with something as big as this, even with Apocalypse.

And here your best friend was, in the middle of all of this. Your mind played back all the memories of you two in drama school with his all-nighters, monologue after monologue, script after script. You couldn’t be more proud of your closest friend, all of his hard work going to this. You could remember Ben’s shifty eyes backstage the very first show of Judas Kiss and the blush on his cheeks after the show when he remembered that you had watched him perform and there was that one scene of full frontal; he figured it was worth the embarrassment, it’s not as if you hadn’t seen worse.

Back to Eastenders and its countless shirtless and kissing scenes. You thought back to the countless nights that you spent up with him when he was weighing leaving the show or becoming Archangel. At your own urging, Ben left Eastenders, ready for the next chapter, ready for the next big thing. One of the best memories of your life was traveling to the United States with him for Comic-Con and driving up and down the west coast a week before he had to attend it. He took you to Disneyland and Universal Studios after everything with the convention was said and done.

Now, Bohemian Rhapsody! You laughed at the memories of Ben scrambling to find a good drum teacher close by and how he turned up in the middle of the night to your flat to tell you he got the part. You couldn’t ever forget his embrace in the dark of your living room, his face buried in your shoulder and his arms, tight and strong around your waist. Your happy tears wiped away by Ben’s hand as you drew apart. Though you both were excited, it was still the middle of the night, so you both just slept in your bed once more with the cats.

Ben would always invite you over to watch him play and give your input. You had to admit, he had gotten pretty good over all the lessons. Though you discouraged his lying about playing the drums and seeing the consequences in his clamber to learn as much as possible, it paid off in the best way possible. They started the process of making the movie. Though you couldn’t really be by his side throughout filming, you were basically there, his perpetual FaceTimes keeping you in the loop with everyone. You even “met” the guys and Lucy, who you hit off with very well. Ben made sure you were always by his side and he was always by yours.

So when you saw him here, at his biggest premiere surrounded by even more amazing actors and actresses, you couldn’t help but shed a tear. This role of Roger had basically brought him into the light.

You watched them take pictures until Ben beckoned you over, the group disbanding and walking over to their families and significant others to pose for their own photos. You came over and he put his arm around your waist, hugging you close. Your hand was on his back and you both posed for pictures, the flash basically blinding you, the sounds of the shutters all around. “Smile,” Ben whispered into your ear.

Everyone was at the rooftop restaurant that you were all going to eat at after the premiere. You were sitting in between Roger and Ben, having been introduced to all of the people around the table. Never in a million years, you thought, never in a million years did you think you’d be here, conversing with the real Roger Taylor or getting along with his daughters, or telling Lucy Boynton and Anita Dobson where you got your necklace and earrings.

“If you’ll excuse us, Y/N and I are going to go out to the balcony,”

You scooped another spoon of food in your mouth before saying, “Oh, okay we are? Okay.” You gave a polite smile to Roger, who you were talking to before Ben got your attention. Standing up, you followed Ben out of the tall, ornate door, out to the terrace where you could see all of London. The view was breathtaking.

“What is this all about?” you inquired as you came over to Ben standing with his hand on the glass, observing the scenery in front of him, the various coloured lights illuminating London.

“How do you feel about all this, Y/N? The whole shazam,” he questioned, wanting to know your true feelings about everything.

You shook your head, “What can I say?” You looked out along with him. “If you had told me in the first year of uni when we met that we would be here right now. Eating dinner with two freaking members of Queen and their families and being around some of the best actors and musicians in the world!” You said, your voice breathy. It was crazy what your best friend had been able to accomplish. “I would’ve slapped you and called you mental. This is all so... wow.”

“I couldn’t have made it here without you, Y/N. I’d be a complete and utter trainwreck. I wouldn’t even, like, survive without you, you know?”

“Ben,” you shook your head vigourously, “Don’t…don’t. This is your thing. This is your work. This is your doing. I was just there along for the ride and you were there with me,” you reasoned. “It’s just...just that simple.”

He shook his head but smiled. “None of this is that simple.” Ben turned to face you, still looking down. You moved to look at him yourself. “You mean everything to me, really. It’s not just the support. It’s the little things. It’s how you never fail to put your jumper sleeves over your hands and bury ‘em in your face. It’s how you look at me when you’re adjusting my suit and doing that little,” he paused and did little sweeping movements in the air, “that little sweepy thing on my lapels and you look back up at me and smile. The way you smile, the way you look at me, love, it just- it drives me crazy in the best way. You’re always there for me, yes, but that is not the only reason that I love you.” Ben took hold of your hand and held it close to his heart, his hand encapsulating yours entirely. “I want you, Y/N.”

You leaned forward and an abundance of holy shit holy shit did I just do that did I really just do that did he reeeallly just say those amazing things about me?’s rang through your head, echoing and echoing. You kissed him. His plump lips were upon yours finally. At first, Ben was stiff, taken by surprise at your sudden action but he softened quickly with the feeling of you on him. Your hand stayed on his chest while his moved down to your hips. As the kiss deepened, you laced your hands around his neck.

He pulled away. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted that, love,” he said, breathless, his lips swollen and pink.

“Me too, Ben.” You smiled and cupped his cheek in your hand, to which he kissed your palm and held your wrist lightly. He looked down at his shoes, blushing.

“We should—“ he started, his thumb pointing back to the inside. “We shoul—“

You exhaled. “Y-Yeah, yeah we should, we should.” Ben grabbed your hand and led you inside. He pulled your chair out for you and you sat in it. You brushed imaginary dirt off your dress, trying to act casual.

“Looks like you two had fun out there!” exclaimed Roger, a bellowing laugh coming from him.

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