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#no i will not shut up about the bowties
augustdementhe · 3 months
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Having our most recent motherland cultures mostly beaten out of us doesn't make us Hebrews, fuckssakes, you can't just PICK.
I hate Black Diaspora antisemitic obsession with SWANA shit that has nothing to do with us so goddamn much.
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greeneyeslander · 1 year
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Okay so I finally read the mlp manga and that’s my new favorite mlp content. 8 year old me would have made it my entire personality. 
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mayearies · 7 months
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SPIDERMAN CLASSIC …. miles morales ⟡
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… ꒰ঌ ໒꒱
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#MILESMORALES brooklyn’s one and only spiderman!
⟡ genre: fluff | warnings: platonic/romantic pov, implied aged up જ⁀➴ note!: first time actually using miles as a graphic wow also hype up my 1610 fics more damn
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the large metal doors shut behind you as the music became muffled. your makeup was nicely done, your dress beautiful, but not for the one it was intended to be seen by.
yup. you got stood up at prom.
he was this guy you liked, you considered a friend. and he stood you up. the grey message from your screen illuminated on your face as you leaned against the alleyway. you were disappointed, yeah. but nothing to cry about. the thing to cry about is how humiliating it was.
you left after a few drinks, you friends toning down your sadness. but it didn’t last long. you just wish-
“hey!”
“wh-?!”
well, this was a surprise. here laid infront of you was the infamous spiderman who saved your city every day. or spiderman 2, most people called him. the only thing different was he was wearing a suit with a bowtie and flowers. and it matched your dress. coincidence? also he was upside down. that’s normal.
“spiderman?”
“yeah! that’s me,” he rubbed the nape of his neck “sorry, is it weird to see me out of character like this?”
“more or less. why are you so dressed up?”
“long story short— i’m finding a prom date last minute.”
that was both true and a lie. the boy behind the mask was finding a prom date last minute, yeah, but it was purposeful in a way. you could have swore he was younger. he sounded like a freshman or sophomore to you.
“um.. yeah. that’s all im really in for. what are you doin’ out here? arent you cold?”
“a little. i got stood up tonight by my date. sucks, huh?”
he nodded like he didn’t know. you didnt hear it from me, but, that was no mistake. he webbed the guy to a nearby alleyway a few blocks down. apparently he had been that pickpocket going around all throughout this week.
a win is a win in miles’ eyes.
“…would you like to be my date? you can say no of course i was just asking-!”
“that.. would be nice. amazing, actually.”
his lenses went wide, taking up most of his mask which was pretty cute. underneath, he could feel his face warming up. and not because he was upside down.
“really?”
“yeah! then i can brag to my friends how i went to prom with spiderman or something, it would be fun.”
“.. would you go with me if you knew who was under this mask?”
“mmm. depends. you seem sweet. my parents say you’re a jerk. you know, that week that rhino destroyed my dad’s car and blamed you? i saw the whole thing so i thought different.”
his face was heating up more, definately not because he wasn’t right side up.
truth was, miles may have been stalking you for a while. he liked you a lot but was too shy to directly confront you, so he watched from the sidelines. found out everything you liked. everything you loved. he just wishes he was a part of that list.
“also, you sound familiar. have we met?”
“what? nonononono- i’ve never seen you in my life!”
“uh huh.”
you did wonder who was underneath, now. you never suspected it would have been someone you knew, but the drastic change in tone once he dropped the fake deep voice made you wonder.
you wanted to pull his mask above his eyes to see if you did know him, but he waved his hands at the point where it reached over his nose. he seemed like a really shy guy, despite him being the hero of brooklyn.
you hummed in contentless, “well, my friends might hear an earful from me about this encounter. and how i’m going to be dancing with the savior of new york. so thanks for that, spidey.”
you gave him a small kiss on the cheek and he froze, fully expecting a kiss on the lips. peter told him about this whole ‘spiderman kiss’ thing and he wanted to try it. its how he won over mj, after all.
even if it didn’t turn out the way he hoped.
“woah..”
“didnt expect that?”
“absolutely not!”
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afterwards notes: rewrote this twice also hype this up wtf
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©hiimayee loves you !
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monzabee · 1 year
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how you get the girl – cl16
masterlist
Summary: The one where you and your boyfriend Charles attend a gala for a friend and run into Harry Styles – who happens to be your ex. 
Pairing: charles leclerc x reader
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: mentions of a past break-up, jealousy, possessive charles, angst? (only if you squint, or maybe not I don’t know), charles being charles, google translate French, anger?
Request: “Can I request a Charles fanfic with angst? Maybe famous singer reader used to date someone really famous like Harry styles and they run into Harry and Charles is really jealous and acting up/mad?”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! this is my first time writing a fic, so all feedback is welcome and appreciated. i liked the idea that the anon named harry so i used him, but also i had to include taylor swift some way because she is the literal best. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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“You don’t have to do this, you know.” You sigh, fixing the way the neckline of your dress looks and meeting the eyes of your boyfriend through the mirror. “I know you’d rather be relaxing tonight than entertaining people.” 
Charles smiles softly as he keeps his eyes focused on yours, the green in his eyes shining just a little bit brighter due to the afternoon sun shining through the hotel room window. He abandons his place on the edge of the bed and comes closer to stand behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Are you trying to convince me to stay back, or convince yourself, chérie?”
His question brings a mischievous smile on your lips and you shrug your shoulders with faux innocence as you lean your head back on the Monegasque’s shoulder. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, chéri.” Your use of the pet name he taught you when the two of you first went on a date makes him let out a laugh – well, you don’t know if it is because of your use or your pronunciation or your use of the word in general, but you’re hoping for the latter. 
“Well, I think you are.” He takes your hand in his and slowly moves you from your place in front of the mirror. “And it’s not going to work, because you—”
“Promised Helen we’d be there. I know, I know.” You huff, shaking out of his grasp and fixing his bowtie with a small frown on your face as you mumble, “I thought you F1 drivers would be into breaking the rules, but no, I had to find the only decent one.” 
Charles chuckles as he places his hands back onto your waist as you continue your mission with a relentless sense of seriousness. “Aw, you think I’m decent?” 
An urgency to smile snakes up onto your lips because of his question but you try to refrain yourself from doing so by twisting your lip, “Shut up, Charles.” 
“I think you’re decent as well,” he takes a moment to think with an exaggerated expression, “pretty, too.” 
You smile at your handiwork as you pat his bowtie twice and place your hands on the sides of your hips. “Is this your way of saying I look nice?”
He shakes his head and starts walking you towards the door, picking up your coat and bag, and ignoring your protests along the way. “But, yes of course. However, we need to go right now if you don’t want to make Helen angry at you for being late.” 
“At me?” You ask, confused. 
Charles laughs. “Well, yes, chérie. She loves me too much to get mad at me. You’ll have fun once we go inside.” 
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By the time the two of you arrive at the gala, Charles has managed to uplift your mood (mostly by promising you pizza and sweets after the two of your leave the event). When you get to Royal Albert Hall, Helen welcomes you with a big smile and open arms. The three of you decide to grab drinks together at the bar and talk about the event, your latest recording deal, Charles’ upcoming season, and Helen’s new client who is a “twat-waffle in skinny jeans, but don’t worry about me, honey, I’ve seen worse.” She leaves the two of you to welcome newcomers, who are probably looking at her to congratulate her on the event. You place your glass on the bar and turn to face Charles, who is looking at you with a small smirk on his face. 
You sigh exaggeratedly and tilt your head to the side. “Fine, you were right, this is fun.” 
He matches your sigh, although with a lighter tone to it. “I know, I love being right.” He quickly finishes the rest of his drink and gets up from his place to offer you his hand. “Now, chérie, allons-nous danser?” Shall we dance? You nod your head, giggling as you take his hand and allow him to pull you onto the dance floor. With the alcohol coursing through your veins, you think this might be the perfect night. 
You and Charles dance through what feels like a hundred songs, but in reality, you lose the count after the third slow-paced song because the DJ decides he’s had enough of the slow songs for the evening and moves onto the fast-paced ones. Both of you jump up and down to the rhythm of the music as best as you can in your choice of heels for the evening, and Charles is there with you to do the same. He nudges your shoulder and wiggles his eyebrows when the DJ decides to play one of your recent songs, not shy to let the people around you know that it is your song. “That’s my girlfriend’s song!” he says, “Yes! It’s the new one!” 
After the previous song finishes, the two of you decide to retire for a bit, walking out onto the balcony to get some fresh air. You turn to Charles when you hear him chuckling and find him shaking his head. “Hey, what are you laughing at?” 
“You look like a tomato, mon amour.” He’s quick to add, “A very cute one at that.” 
You let out a shocked gasp, swatting lightly at his chest to cease his laughs. “It’s not funny! I never make fun of you after your races, even if you do look like a tomato.” 
“That is not true, and you know it.” His laughter continues, making you join him and soon after both of you are laughing uncontrollably; with you leaning against the railing of the balcony and him with his arms placed on either side of you to cage you in. After your laughter dies down, leaving you both in heaving breaths in to calm yourselves, he shrugs off his jacket and gently places it onto your shoulders. 
You gaze up at him, softly smiling through your lashes. “Thank you, my love.”  
You press your lips against the corner of his mouth, but he is quick to capture your lips in his, and his eyes are the last thing before you close yours as he starts kissing you. His hands quickly start moving and he drags them up your body to cradle your face between his hands as he deepens the kiss. You let out an involuntary whimper, in which he responds by gently tugging at your lower lip. In an attempt to bring him closer, you slip your fingers through the belt loops of his dress pants, which thankfully is not occupied by a belt. Charles’ response is to bring your face even closer as he keeps kissing you. The two of you don’t realise the sound of footsteps coming from behind you. 
“Oh, God, sorry.” A voice interrupts, and you quickly separate from each other, albeit a little bit unwillingly. You inhale deeply to regulate your irregular breathing, and let out a gasp as your eyes fall onto the intruder. Just as you are about to open your mouth, he beats you to it. “I can’t believe it, hi Y/N, it’s been ages!” 
Although Charles’ eyebrows furrow, he keeps his gaze focused on you only to turn around to face the intruder once you say, “Hi, Harry, it’s been a while!” He gives him a once over, keeping his hands on your waist as the two of you talk about the lost time. And yes, while Charles can be a jealous man – just like any other guy in a relationship who is as besotted with their partner as he is with you – he never considers himself to be possessive. He even likes Harry’s music, he mostly encounters the songs at the paddock before a race or after while doing media stuff, but he doesn’t have any issues regarding his music or him in general just because he is dating you because he is secure in your relationship to know just how much you love and respect him and the same goes for you. But standing there with you leaning against him while talking to your ex-boyfriend, yes he know he is your ex-boyfriend like the rest of the world thanks to your very public break-up, he just wants to take you away from there any to anywhere where the two of you can be alone. 
You leap off the railing you were leaning against when you feel Charles’ hands tightening on your waist and move one of your hands to cover his as you give him a slight squeeze. “This is Charles, my boyfriend.” 
He watches as you give him a polite smile and attempts to do the same, but it reality his probably comes-off as a strained one. Harry offers him a handshake as he smiles at him, “Hello, nice to meet you.” And then, he watches as the Brit turns his attention once against to you. 
“We missed you at the awards this season, you didn’t attend any of them!” Harry chuckles, shaking his head a little. 
You shrug and answer him with the same polite smile on your face. “Well, you know me, never been fan of the award shows in the first place.” 
Charles knows this, of course he does, because whenever someone starts to ask you about award season in the first place, you let them know that the awards are not the reason you write songs in the first place – the fans are. He tunes most of your conversation out as his insecurities take over his thoughts, he thinks it is funny in a way because your relationship might be the only one where he has felt like he could be himself without worrying about what you might think. Just as he is about the calm his fears by the logical side of his brain reasoning and telling him that he should probably stop acting like a fool, he hears Harry asking you about a song on your album which makes him throw all the rationality he has out the metaphorical window. 
“I-uh, I listened to your new album, it was very good.” Harry says. 
A wide smile finds a place on your face. “Oh, thank you, Harry! It’s nice to hear that.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I liked that one song the most, what’s it called, How You Get the Girl?” He thinks quietly for a split second. “Oh whatever – it was very good. But tell me the truth, was it or was it not about me?” 
“Sorry, can’t tell you that, it’s a secret.” You laugh. And he laughs. And Charles only watches the scene before him without being able to say anything because he is swarmed by all the thoughts he tried so hard pushing out of his head coming back. You must’ve notice his drastic change in mood because you excuse the two of you saying that you’re feeling a little bit cold.
“Oh sure, it was nice seeing you again.” Harry smiles at you, and then addresses Charles, “It was also nice meeting you, Charles. Take care of my girl, eh?” 
“You too, Henry.” Charles replies, without filtering his response in his head and hangs his head low to avoid any awkwardness. 
You wait until the Brit leaves the balcony and then focus on the man in front of you, “Charles–” you start, but he cuts you off with a low voice. 
“Can we just go home?” He inhales deeply. “Please.”  
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Needless to say, the car ride home is quiet and tense. Charles acts like he doesn’t care, but you know deep inside that he is bothered by what happened and is probably overthinking the entire situation. The one thing you are grateful for is the fact that you didn’t drive to the venue but instead opted for a car service, thinking that you’d both be drunk by the time event ended. However in reality, neither of you are drunk and you are fairly sure Helen is going to send you a very angry text the next morning because you left early. When the driver announces that you’ve arrived at the hotel, Charles thanks him before exiting the car and you do the same before you lean over to open your door, but Charles is quicker than you and he does it for you. 
He is quiet the entire way up to your hotel room, but he has an arm around you and you place your hand right on top of his in an attempt to sooth whatever negative emotions he is feeling at the moment. He is also quiet when you get to your room, and he helps you pull off your coat and his jacket underneath the coat. He smiles for a split second, seeing his oversized jacket on your frame, but the seriousness returns as he helps you out of it. 
“Charles,” you say his name, “please talk to me.” 
“I’m okay, chérie.” He sighs and places a small kiss to you forehead. “I’m going to take a shower before bed, okay?” He leaves before giving you an opportunity to speak, and you are left behind, thinking about the last time he called you that pet name a few hours ago, and how he was smiling.
Instead of pushing him to talk about his feelings you decide to let him cool down, hoping that he would be more open to having a conversation about what happened after his shower. So, you take of your shoes and your dress – although you struggle to find the zipper for a while – and you take of your make up on the small vanity the hotel provided for you after you put on your pyjamas for the night. By the time Charles is out of his shower, you are waiting for him sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers. 
“I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” He mumbles, weaving his hands through his wet hair. 
You can’t help the small frown etching on your face. “We never go to bed angry at each other.” 
You can see the change in his eyes, but even though his eyes soften at the sight of you, his tone is firm when he tells you, “I’m not angry at you, Y/N.” 
“See, I find it hard to believe that right about now.” You mumble, your eyes falling on your lap for a second. 
He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Just go to sleep, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.” 
“What? Why?” You ask, your voice wavering at the last syllable. “Where are you going?” 
“I’m just going to go over some statistics in the living room.” He doesn’t look at you, or let you protest. He picks up his computer from the abandoned backpack in the corner of the room and presses another light kiss to your forehead before going into the living room to try to get rid of the anger by working it off. 
And thus, you try to go to sleep – mainly because you know just how stubborn Charles is. His mother always tells you stories about when he was a kid and refused to go to bed in his pyjamas because he didn’t want to take off his karting suit. But you see how much he’s stubborn every single day, when he makes you get out of bed in crack-dawn of the day because you told him you wanted to start exercising with a “no, mon amour, you said you wanted to start running!”, or when he makes you eat your vegetables because “you can’t live off of chicken nuggets for the rest of your life, you’re in your twenties!”. But most importantly, you see how stubborn he is every time he pushes himself to be better; a better man, a better son, a better driver and even a better boyfriend. So, it breaks your heart to think that he is outside the doors of the bedroom, alone and contemplating things he shouldn’t have to because he knows just how much you love him. So, you get out of the bed, which isn’t very hard in the first place because it feels too empty and cold without Charles in it, and you march your way through the bedroom doors and into the living room where a certain green-eyed Monegasque driver is hunched over his computer in the low light. 
He looks up and his eyes go wide when he spots you, sleep evident in your eyes and there is a permanent pout on your lips. There is a silent communication between the two of you as he pushes his chair slight off the table for you to place yourself on his lap and consequently wrapping yourself around his sitting figure. 
“Chérie, you should be sleeping, it’s late.” He speaks in a low voice, encouraging you to go to sleep, but you know him well enough to read between the lines. 
Your voice comes of muffled because you cuddle against the side of his neck. “I couldn’t sleep because someone refuses to talk about his feelings and made me become accustomed to his cuddles over the past year and a half.” 
“Mon amour,” he sighs, “I am fine, you don’t have to worry about me. Okay?” 
There isn’t any emotional strain in his voice, unlike before, but you still don’t like the fact that he refuses to acknowledge his feelings. So instead of pushing, you pick your head up again and focus on his green eyes, “You called me by my name, and you never call me by my name unless I’ve done something wrong.” 
“That’s not true.” His voice comes off as a whisper this time. 
“It is and you know it.” You untangle one of your arms from around his neck to cradle his jaw and let your finger wander around. “Please tell me what I’ve done wrong so that I can fix it.” You think for a moment. “S'il vous plait.” Please. 
Charles lets out a frustrated breath and tightens his arms around your frame – involuntarily, or maybe not, but who cares, really? “It’s mine,” He grumbles. 
“What is?” You ask, tilting your head with genuine curiosity. 
“The song.” Now it is Charles’ turn to pout. “It’s my song, you wrote it for me. I was there when you recorded it and you told me so.” 
“Oh, Charles.” You coo, bringing your other hand up to his face and gently caressing his face as you straighten yourself up on his lap. “It is about you, my love, he was just joking.” 
You let out a chuckle as you hear him mumble, “Well, it wasn’t funny to me.” 
“Is this about more than the song?” You ask, continuing the movement of your hands. You smile as he lets out a dissenting mumble, “Good, because I would hate it if you thought I have eyes for anyone other than you.” 
“You would?” He mumbles, leaning into your touch. 
“Oh yes, I would be very upset.” You nod, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. “And Charles?” You ask. 
“Yes, chérie?” He asks right back, his eyes not leaving yours even for a moment. 
“I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 
“It’s not your fault,” His eyes become serious for a second again, but they soften at the sight of you quickly. “Don’t blame yourself, chérie.” He mumbles as he kisses you softly on your lips. “Okay?”
“But still,” You mumble, “I’m sorry for making you feel that way.” 
He sighs, but it is not a sad sigh like before. Which makes you think it is an improvement. “I’m sorry I can’t write songs about you.”
“What?” You ask, voice shaky. “What do you mean?” 
“I’m not– I can’t put my feelings into words that way.” His hands occupy themselves with the string of your pyjama pants. 
“I don’t need you to write me songs, Charles, and I don’t want you to change.” You press soft kisses around his face, making him smile involuntarily. “I love you just the way you are, you stubborn stubborn man.” You thing he’s about to say something, but can’t finish your train of thought because suddenly you’re being lifted off the chair and you’re in the air. You let out a shriek, “What are you doing?” 
“Taking you to bed,” Charles replies, and rolls his eyes as your expression changes. “To sleep,” he emphasises the second word, “méchante fille” naughty girl. You laugh as he puts you back on your side of the and tucks you in before turning off the lights and getting into the bed himself. He is quick to pull you towards his arms and cuddle you under his weight, which you’ve become accustomed to and helps you sleep better. “Go to sleep, mon amour.” He kisses you on your forehead again. 
“Charles?” You ask into the night, and continue once he lets out an affirmative hum. “Je t'aime.” I love you.
“Je t'aime aussi, mon amour.” I love you too, my love. You hear him say as you’re falling to sleep. “Tu es l'amour de ma vie.” You’re the love of my life.
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etheries1015 · 3 months
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I've been watching Disney's "The Princess and the Frog" and I've been thinking about a request based on the scene where Naveen makes a dinner for Tiana where he intends to confess to her. I wanted a request like that with Floyd x Yuu and unlike the film, Floyd manages to confess. And maybe there's a little dancing too
I would be very happy if you placed my request, I will wait patiently for it :)
I LOVVEE DISNEY MOVIESSS bro my friend has never watched The Princess and the Frog and I lost my mind. How have you NOT watched only one of the most amazing disney movies to exist?! Insane. BUT YES I like this!
Floyd Confessing his feelings to you
Based off of the princess and the frog scene <3
General warnings: Gender neutral reader
TW: None! Just fluff, and awkwardness!
The night was young, the stars were shining bright overhead smiling down at the eager boy. Floyd wasn't all that familiar with customs about love and affection, but he knew the moment his heart fluttered simply seeing you complete tasks seemingly so mundane making him blush sent him into a frenzy. Love and Floyd? The two in the same sentence sounded completely insane!
But when Floyd says he is in love, he truly commits to the bit.
There he was, leading you by the hand much to your surprise and mild amusement.
"Where are you taking me?" You asked the tall male, who flashed you a charming toothy grin and a giddy chuckle.
"It's a surprise, shrimpy. To celebrate somethingggg.."
You eyed him curiously as you entered the Octavinelle lounge, seeing it so deserted besides strung up lights and plates of food neatly upon the table caused you to gasp in shock, almost tearing up at the sight and near notion that somebody would take their time to prepare such a grandiose display for you.
"It's for you! Do ya like it?" Floyd almost sang, pulling out a rose, "I heard this is the best way to romance someone. Is it working?" You almost burst out laughing, but you just knew he couldn't help but be honest about his intentions, one of the many things that you loved about this merman.
"Nobody has ever done anything like this for me," You replied with affection, gracefully grabbing hold of the rose from his hand and taking a quick smell and observing it. When you looked back up from the flower, you noticed Floyd suddenly had a...rather large bowtie on that you knew for certain was not there before. It almost looked silly, the way it was bigger than his neck and flared out in such a...flamboyant way. You pursed your lips in an attempt to hold back the laughter that threatened to reveal itself, biting your bottom lip and nodding in 'approval'. Floyd noticed this and with a blush upon his embarrassed cheeks, he was quick to remove and throw aside the article of clothing.
"you're right, I knew it was too much," Floyd grumbled, eying a corner of the lounge where the strung up lights did not touch.
"I thought it was a nice touch..." You heard a hushed and disappointed voice from somewhere unknown to you, your eyes searching the room before Floyd grabbed you by the shoulders to avert your attention to the table neatly put together.
"Pretend you didn't see that. Or hear that." Seeing the normally suave and outgoing male so shy and flustered, you couldn't stop the smile on your lips widening at such a rare sight.
"Floyd- the seat- the seat!" Another voice that wasn't so discreet called out, Floyd gasping and running to your side before you had the chance to sit down.
"Let me- uh- here. I mean- have a seat," He pulled the seat out and invited you forward, pushing it in, "I saw this in a movie-"
"don't admit that!" ...said the voice from nowhere to be seen. You pressed your lips together tighter, trying not to howl in laughter. This was all just too cute...you've never seen such a side to him, and his grand gestures of gentlemanly was so out of place for his personality you couldn't help but bite back your giggles of amusement.
"Shut up Azul!" Floyd whisper-yelled back to a dark corner of the lounge. Noticing your skeptical gaze, Floyd ran over to one of the tables to grab a silver platter, bringing it to you and opening the lid with excitement in his eyes in hopes to distract you from the bickering.
"Oh? what's this?" You cooed, tilting your head as he brought over the large platter.
"Ta-Daaaa~" He sang, removing the lid. Upon seeing the dish he had prepared, you gasped and clapped in excitement.
"You made it all by yourself!" You cried out, noticing the plate of pretty (surprisingly) well-prepared food that you recall teaching him how to make some time the months prior. Floyd puffed out his chest in pride and nodded firmly.
"Yeahh! I did a good job, riighht?"
The "empty" corner coughed an obvious "pushy" cough that was seemingly a cue for the hopeless romantic to begin his actual speech and cut the small talk.
"Y/n!- ah-" He interrupted himself, "Sorry that was kinda loud...uhh..." You could see him begin to sweat bullets, his eyes wavering as he looked in panic anywhere but you, shaky hands pressing against the table.
"I'm just gonna say it. Among all the people i've dated-" You raised an eyebrow and nodded awkwardly, folding your hands and waiting to see where he was going with this. Floyds jaw slacked open for a moment of realization.
"wait- no. Jade said I can't bring up dating anyone else. Even those were just play dates when we were kids. And they were all boring" Floyd pausing mid-statement and attempting to bring the conversation back to the point.
"B-but you're not boring! You're amazing! like- uh-"
"Play it cool!" The mysterious voice threw out a word of advice.
"Like one of the guys-"
"Not one of the guys, you idiot!" Azul (it was fairly obvious who the voice belonged to) chastised him.
"Ehh?? Than what do I say?!"
"How you feel, brother." Jade followed.
Floyd must have been focused too much on driving the conversation how he had wanted it to, leaning all of his weight onto one side of the table causing it to tip over, the silver platter and the tall male both falling to the ground with a loud "bang!". You could hear slaps from the corner of the lounge, presumably one or two other people slapping their foreheads in astonished embarrassment for their friend and brothers hopeless attempts.
"uughhh.." Floyd whined like his usual self, "This isn't going how I wanted it to." when you finally couldn't hold it back any longer, you burst out laughing with hands holding your stomach. Floyd sat up in annoyance and looked at you with sadness glinting within his multi-colored eyes, his lips forming a pout.
"I get it, itsa disaster..." You shook your head at his woeful comment, wiping a tear from laughing.
"No," you gently replied, "it's cute." You wiped off a piece of food that stuck to the top of Floyd's head, bending down to his level and kissing his cheek.
"Floyd, I don't need all of this fancy stuff. Just tell me how you feel your way, because I like you for you, and wouldn't want a confession any other way." He sat in silence, blinking once, blinking twice, before also bursting out in laughter. Floyd pulled you down into his arms and hugged you tightly, before spilling out his heart bluntly and honestly as he should have from the beginning.
"I see our work here is done," Jade said to Azul, taking his shoulder and leading them out of the lounge, "They have it under control now, so it seems." Azul scoffed and adjusted his glasses, eying his messy lounge.
"After they are done being lovey and dovey, I will be charging them a cleaning fee...look at that mess...it'll take special services to get that sauce out of the flooring!"
"For now, let's just be happy Floyd will stop bugging us about his crush."
"...I suppose your right, that in itself is payment enough."
So they left you two giggling and now throwing food at each other, in the fun way that is unique to your love.
<3
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redacted-rainbows · 4 months
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Hey y'all! So I saw this really ~entertaining~ post by @janitorhutcherson the other day and got inspired to write a little drabble based on it. Sorry if this isn't great, this is quite literally my first time ever writing any form of fanfiction much less smut so feel free to give constructive criticism. Hope you guys enjoy this!
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WARNING- 18+, consume this content at your own discretion (smut under the cut)
The original post~ peeta mellark the type of man to stick his hand between your thighs under the table at dinner while having the nerve to force you to make conversation
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The plans had been set for days, but you still let out a deep sigh pulling on your favorite black dress and throwing your hair into a loose updo before flopping onto your bed. You and your long term boyfriend Peeta Mellark were scheduled to meet with Haymitch and Katniss for dinner and you were already going to be late. Peeta walks into your shared bedroom, his blonde hair slicked back and muscular frame emphasized by his white button up and half-done bowtie. "Babe, we've gotta be out the door in five minutes or else Katniss might literally shoot me" the older boy says while sitting down onto the bed next to you. "I know, I know, but you're the one whose made us this late already!" you retort, sitting up to run your hands through his gorgeous hair. You laugh as he makes an annoyed face and moves to fix his appearance, so you remind him "Peeta, you look good no matter how your hair is styled, now lemme get that bowtie so we can leave." He gives you a slight eye roll, but can't help but smile when you tug on the pathetic attempt of a knot your boyfriend tied on his neck. "You know if you wanted to choke me, all you had to do was ask" he teases, making your face go slightly red as you look away. "Oh shut up bread boy, in your dreams" was your only response as you gently fix his bowtie and straighten it on his neck. "Do I look perfectly handsome yet?" he jokes, cocky grin on his face, and you sigh. "Sure you do loverboy, just not as gorgeous as I do" you say with a wink.
You arrive at the resturaunt at 7:18, much to the dismay of Peeta who had promised a prompt 7:15 reservation for the quartet. You grab his hand and drag him into the building, where he sheepishly looks around for his companions. "Peeta! Y/N! We're over here!" you hear a familiar rough alto lilt. "Hey Katniss!" Peeta greets shyly as you two walk over to the corner of the restaurant. You feel your boyfriend lean his head into yours and hear him start to whisper "this place has a no bow and arrow policy, right?" You can't help but giggle aloud at his comment. Even though Katniss was a legend with her weapon of choice, you knew she would never hurt anyone unless necessary, even if they are wandering into dinner late. "Where's Haymitch off to this time?" you wonder aloud, glancing around the resturaunt for sight of the older man. Katniss rises from where she is seated to give you a warm embrace while sighing. "He ran off to the bathroom a few minutes ago, but knowing him he could be halfway to the Capitol at this point". Turning to Peeta, she opts for a gentle flick on the nose and an eye roll, "for almost certainly being the reason you're both late". You all get situated into the booth, you and Peeta next to each other and Katniss across, with room for Haymitch whenever he appears again.
You're deep into your second round of drinks, gossiping about Gale's newest act of narcissism when Haymitch stumbles up to the table with a lopsided grin on his face. You're not quite sure, but you think you hear him mutter something about "bread boy and his flower girl" under his breath, and you blush at the nickname. The first time Peeta had introduced you to his loved ones, Haymitch and Katniss included, you had prepared a fresh bouquet from the forest behind your cottage for each of them. While most found the gesture sweet, Haymitch laughed playfully at you and told Peeta he had found a keeper. You snap our of your memories when you hear Peeta ask "Y/N, do you know what you wanna order?". "Oh sorry, I'll just get some fried noodles if that works?" you reply, to which he nods.
"So anyways Y/N, how is your little kitten doing? Last I heard he was tearing up your bedsheets at night with those sharp claws" Katniss remarked. You're about to answer when Haymitch pipes in, "I think the bedsheets were torn by someone else we know", a smug smirk resting on his face. You can feel your face flush as Peeta nearly chokes on his drink next to you, sputtering in shock at his mentor's crass insinuation. After a moment of shocked silence, you reply "oh yeah he's a little troublemaker little Charlie, silly little guy". 'Real smooth, Y/N' you think as you internally groan. "Well then..." Katniss thankfully intervenes, "Buttercup has been a complete menace the last few days and we can't figure out why". You zone out a bit as she explains the older kitty's disasterous ways until you're snapped back to reality by the familiar feel of Peeta's hand on your thigh. This wasn't an uncommon occurances for the two of you; you know how much your boyfriend loves to tease you while you were out together, but doing so in the company of others was completely new. You cast him a questioning glance out of the corner of your eye, still stuck in the world inside your own head. "I just don't see why you let those furry rascals behave like that. They seem more trouble than they're worth" Haymitch grunted. 'Oh right, cats' you remember and quickly start "our little Charlie is just too cute to discipline too much, he should grow out of his kitten curiosity soon enough". From beside you, Peeta responds "I tried to yell at him for getting fur in my dough, but Y/N scolded me instead". All you could think about was his hand dancing up your inner thigh until he's so close to where you need him. 'Is he absolutely insane?!' you ponder as you kick his leg under the table. "Hmm, seems like there might be a little trouble in paradise over there" Haymitch declared, to Katniss' disapproval. "No, I'm sure they're too infatuated with each other to even consider arguing over parenting a cat" she chortles as you force yourself to laugh along.
The only thing on your mind is Peeta. Peeta's strong arms rubbing against your side as you talk. Peeta's smooth voice laughing alongside your own. Peeta's thick fingers sliding the hem of your dress up further and further to gain access to the one place he truly desires. Thankfully, Katniss and Haymitch seem to be unaware of the tension unfolding across the booth from them as they bicker over who knows what. You hear Peeta chime in "Well I guess that makes sense, but wouldn't the Capitol stop that from happening in the first place?". Asshole, how could he be so calm and collected while his fingers are rubbing circles into your upper thigh. "FUCK!". You can't help but yelp in surprise and unexpected pleasure as Peeta's fingers slide under your underwear and slip between your wet folds. Conversation at the table halts as your three companions look at you with concern, but you can see a taunting glimmer in your boyfriend's eyes as he remarks "babe, are you feeling alright?". Katniss quickly chimes in, "I can call Prim if you're ill, her healing abilities are getting better every day.". 'Goddammit Peeta' you think as you try to formulate a coherent response. "Oh no no no no I'm alright, I just got a little cramp in my leg is all, everything is alright now" you reassure the group, making extra care to glare at the blonde boy next to you.
He just hums in response, sliding his fingers up so they rest on your swollen clit. 'Oh what a jackass'. "Anyways, how is Effie doing these days? Haven't seen her in weeks." Peeta asks as he starts making slow circles over your clit. Your breathing quickens. Across from you, Haymitch starts explaining "her mother got ill, she's been staying with her parents while helping her mom recover". You're trying to listen, but your eyes slide shut as Peeta's gentle caresses turn more rough, gaining speed and pressure against your throbbing clit. You let out a sigh as you feel a finger prod at your sensitive entrance, slowly sliding in and exploring it's newfound territory. 'You're alright, Y/N. Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out. Don't give him the reaction he's looking for and he should stop.'. Another finger enters, curling into your sweet spot. Katniss and Peeta have moved onto grilling Haymitch about just *how* he knows so much about Effie's life as the older man sputters trying to find an excuse. As Peeta's fingers keep moving inside you, you're grateful for the excuse to recluse yourself from the conversation. A few weeks before Effie departed for the Capitol, she had drunkenly confessed to you the extent of she and Haymitch's relationship. She proceeded to swear you to secrecy, a vow you refused to break.
All was going well in the conversation, or as well as it could be with your boyfriend steadily assaulting your core with his rough hand, until Peeta glances at you and asks "well Y/N, since Effie told you you can't say anything from that night how about instead you tell us about when Effie accidentally got high on her birthday flowers you gave her?". "I'm sorry, the time she WHAT?" Katniss gawked at the blonde's outrageous statement before turning to you. "Now this is a story we have to hear" Haymitch pitched in, a confused smile lurking on his lips. "Well babe? You've gotta share now" Peeta smirks, moving his fingers inside you at an increased rate. "W- w- well it was Effie's birthday like Peeta said" you began, all of your focus going into keeping your voice steady as your boyfriend continued his movements, "a- and I couldn't afford a r- real gift for her so I gathered a nice bouquet from the f- forest.". You couldn't find the words you needed, your brain instead resorting to a steady chant of 'Peeta, Peeta, Peeta, Peeta'. You take a deep breath in, more of a gasp, before trying to continue "basically Effie thought they would be edible so she put them on her slice of cake Peeta made her and I found her later in town trying to play catch with a stray cat". You heave a sigh of relief as Katniss and Haymitch start laughing, too enamored by your tale to notice your speedy finish and reddening face. Just as you think you're in the clear, Peeta slides a third finger into your entrance while challenging "yeah, and what happened after that babe?". At this point you can barely breathe, needing an escape from this booth and fast, so you say "sorry I need to go to the restroom" and try to close your thighs to stand up. Peeta, however, has other plans, telling you "you can go in just another minute, you've gotta finish your story for me first" with a wink. You feel his fingers moving in and out of you, curving perfectly into the spot that nearly makes you see stars, as you try to stammer "I got Peeta to h- help a- and the stray cat was C- Charlie who we rescued". "You feel the muscles in your stomach start to contract and you know if Peeta doesn't stop his ministrations right now you're going to cum at the table. Your hand flies down to grab his wrist and he instantly halts his movement, retracting his hand and subtly helping you resituate your garments before you stand and rush to the bathroom. The last thing you hear as you're leaving the booth is the blonde whisper "good girl" into your ear, making you weak in the knees.
'Get yourself together Y/N' you thought as you splashed cool water on your face. You had been so close to your orgasm you could almost taste it, and now you had to calm your mind and body before you return to the group and finish dinner. You took a few more deep breaths and thoroughly readjusted your clothing to hide any lingering evidence of your encounter before stepping back out into the resturaunt and rejoining the table.
In the time it took you to compose yourself and return, food had been served and your three companions had already began to dig into their meals. "Hey, you're back, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Katniss questions, genuine concern shining through her usually flat tone. "Yeah I'm alright, that leg cramp was acting up again so I just needed to stretch it out a little bit" you lie as you sit down to try your noodles. The rest of the meal goes smoothly, and attention is diverted from you when Haymitch finally decides to reveal some details about him and Effie. As the four of you laugh away the evening, you feel like you're at home, surrounded by the people you love most in life. "Well, it was a pleasure getting to see you guys tonight" Peeta sighs standing up and stretching. Your group ended up staying at the resturaunt until all of you are yawning trying to stay awake amidst your chaotic conversing. As all of you stand up and start grabbing your jackets, Haymitch asks "is anybody interested in catching dessert before we all depart? I'm personally stuffed but I guess I'll cover you guys for some cake, my treat". Katniss smiles, but replies "I'm good Haymitch, use that money to buy Effie something nice", then laughs. You catch Peeta's eye with an inquisitive glance, but notice his eyes darken as he turns to you with a smirk. He responds, "Thanks Haymitch, but I think Y/N has dessert covered for me tonight."
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hellisharchive · 2 months
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・﹒・ comatose dreams [1]
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Summary: After suffering from a fatal car crash, you had become comatose and had no hope of waking up anytime soon. You didn't know that, however, you thought you had died. After finding yourself in Hell, you wind up landing a job with Vox as your boss. You both fall quickly and deeply, but true love doesn't always work out.
Warnings: 18+, mentions of sex, masturbation, slight StaticMoth,
Notes: This fanfic is inspired by this lovely post by @timeslugarts! I would suggest reading it for a full summary, however if you want to go in blind, then don't!
﹒Stepping Stones﹒
An entire year working for VoxTech, what was your job, you ask? Well, you started out as a simple camera operator, then worked your way up to personal assistant, and you've had a crush on the television man for a good year now. Unfortunately, Vox always seemed so out of reach, so out of your league, you never even tried to even flirt with him and hoping he'd notice. He was an Overlord, one of the Vees, you were probably seen as nothing to him. Which hurt to think about, but was true nonetheless. So, you worked and went through your days with all your feelings festering inside you, ready to burst.
"Vox, you have a meeting with Vel and Val at three pm today to discuss potential strategies with Alastor returning, would you like to cancel?" You watched him as he adjusted his bowtie, ensuring that his outfit was perfect as always. He also had a tendency to cancel his meetings, but to the chagrin of his partners since he arrengaed them in the first place, but you still forced him to attend at least some.
"No, I know if I don't they'll be on my ass about it later" Turning from the mirror, he looked at you with a bored expression before putting on one of his smiles that you thought would be fake, but it was genuine. From working with him, you've learned to identify what smiles are real and ones that aren't.
"What? Do you really want to be alone with me THAT badly?" His smile then moved to a smirk, causing you get flustered and fumble with the tablet you were holding. Shit. Was that the first time he flirted with you? Vox chuckled as you regained your bearings, clearing your throat, you tried to remain professional.
"Well no sir, I was just uh, caught off guard by your uh...assumption" You coughed as he started to walk out of the room, knowing you'll diligently follow, and you did. You shut the door behind you and followed him as he made his way to his head of operations. He didn't tell you where he was going, but you knew his route every single day, that is- if he does, you'll still follow him wherever he went. You'll always be loyal to him and him only.
"Well, let's hope I don't have to calm Valentino down again today after yesterday..." He scowled just thinking about it. Yesterday, Val had yet again another temper tantrum and you watched as your boss did his thing. It was something you've grown accustomed to with your time as the tv man's personal assistant, they both fucked with no strings attached. Sure, they weren't together, but it still squandered you telling the truth about your feelings even further.
"Hopefully not, sir" You spoke as he entered his main control room, where he could spy on everyone and everything. He mainly has been monitoring the hotel and Alastor, even when the Radio Demon was gone for seven years, he never stopped bringing him up. The deer Overlord has only been back for a few months and he was the only thing Vox brought up for entire days sometimes. You didn't mind it though, it was pretty entertaining to witness. Sitting down in his chair, you grabbed yours and sat next to him as he observed everyone, trying to find Alastor roaming around. He checked the hotel first but couldn't find him with his scope of range. Time passes as he does his daily checking and observing, replying to emails, and the like. You busy yourself with checking his schedules and any business opportunities. You didn't realize that he stopped speaking until his sudden voice breaking the silence startled you.
"Do you think he'll ever take me seriously?" He spoke oddly quiet, his usual self gone as you swore you heard the faintest crackle in his voice. Looking up from your tablet, you saw that his head was down, looking at his lap with his hands fiddling each other as a sign of nerves. Sighing, you stood up and walked in front of him. Gently setting your hand on his shoulder, it caused him to look up with a face similar to a sad puppy. Smiling softly, with your other free hand, you placed it on his other shoulder.
"I know one day he will, sir. Trust me, you'll beat him and be the strongest overlord in Hell" You almost said "with me by your side" but refrained, knowing it was best not to mention that at all to him. This was about cheering him up, not entertaining your stupid fantasies. But, you saw as a digital blush faintly appear on his screen made your heart leap. You? A measly assistant managed to make THE Vox blush? You two were entranced, the feeling of leaning closer overwhelmed you as you both slowly inched closer and closer. What were you doing? You both were about six inches apart as he placed a hand over yours, now smiling devilishly as he chuckled.
"Of course I will, I just need someone by my side to do it" Did he...? You didn't have to fully process what he meant by that as you saw Vox's screen change to an incoming call with a ring. The moment ended as you cleared your throat and pulled away, taking your hands off his shoulders like they became fire. Of course- Valentino.
"Are you fucking-" He scowled as he transmitted the video call to one of his many screens, showing a very scandalously clad moth lounging on his bed, smoking and turning the screen into red before dissipating.
"Hey Voxy~ I need a fuck and I need it now. Angel Dust won't return my calls" Now, you weren't the biggest fan of Valentino, despite Vox also not being the best. But even as a sinner, you still did not agree with how that man treated others, especially his main star. Hearing the fact that he was demanding sex from your boss made your blood boil, yet you remained calm and neutral.
"Not now Val, find one of your other whores to fuck, I'm not in the mood" He didn't try to hide is displeasure as he held a very pissed off face staring at the pimp. Usually Vox never denied having sex with Valentino, so the sudden anger surpised you. Valentino just sighed, leaning closer to the camera. You weren't sure if he could see you, you hoped he didn't.
"You aren't fucking anyone else, right baby?" The question gave you whiplash despite not being the receiver. The moth sounded innocuous when you knew very well he manipulated Vox along with others. You knew his game.
"Fuck off Val" The tv Overlord than hung up, growling as he pushed out of his chair and started to walk towards the middle of the room. Following him, he headed back into the rest of the tower and back to his room. Before you could step in, he stood in the doorway, preventing your access.
"Don't bother me, do whatever the fuck you want for the next few hours, I don't care" and just like that, he slammed the door in your face. What the hell just happened? Taking a deep breath in, you mull over what you could possibly do when you decide to just take a walk. You needed some time outside the tower every once a while, so a walk would be perfect. Not wanting to head out in your work attire, you head to your room which was right next to Vox's (easier to be his assistant with you so close) and change. As you walked by your boss' door, you heard him panting and immediately flushed, walking away quickly as it felt wrong to hear him masturbate. You did walk in on him one time by pure accident and even to to this day he still teases you over it and makes fun of you. As you passed by, you could have sworn you heard him moan out your name, but he couldn't have. Right? Your ears were just playing tricks on you. Rushing past, opting to ignore it entirely, you went on your walk.
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wires-and-hellfires · 20 days
Note
hello I was wondering if I can request a vox x overlord reader dating but it’s a secret since it could mess up something with work anything like that but one day they were at club and while they were making outside in the alley and someone goes outside and sees them making out and takes pictures and it gets on the news and like everywhere
Stolen Moments
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Pairing: Vox x overlord! reader
Description: You both agreed your relationship was best kept a secret, but some things are out of even an overlord's control.
Warnings: Thievery, Vox being jealous/possessive, mentions of weapons, mentions of soul contracts, Valentino mentioned being creepy,
Author note: Ahhhh thanks for the request, this was a blast to write! Added some details because I'm dramatic lol. Hope you enjoy!
The second you got his text you were out the door and down the back stairs.
The city was busy downtown at this time of night, filled with drunks, gamblers, dancers, and everything else hell has to offer. Going through the crowds would be tedious and time-consuming.
Glancing at your phone again, you moved towards the pipes on the wall behind your apartment building and pulled yourself onto the roof.
There were faster ways through the city if those knew where to look, and one did not become the overlord of thieves without knowing how to move quickly and unnoticed.
Halfway to the location, a sinner perched on a roof startled as you landed next to him, reaching for a gun.
"It would be best for both of us if you never saw me and went back to... doing whatever the hell you were doing up here," you murmured, watching his eyes go hazy and grip on the weapon slacken before continuing on your way.
You reached the back alley of the club in record time.
Vox paced behind the building, his screen illuminating the darkness.
As you approached, purposely making your footsteps audible, he spun around and closed the distance between you two. Allowing him to maneuver you against the wall, you blinked up at him as he loomed over you.
"Hey, woah, okay then, nice to see you too-" but he didn't respond with his standard grin and remark about needing to be close to you or some bullshit, instead, just continued to stare, as if memorizing your face beneath him. "What's got you all worked up?"
And that set him off.
"Fucking Valentino, the wrinkly prick, needs to learn when to keep his fucking mouth shut-" and oh, yeah, you knew where this was going.
You met Valentino earlier that week, entirely by accident, and had it been anyone else, you would have 'persuaded' them to forget about you and moved along, but as another overlord, he would be difficult to convince. So, instead, you let it go. That was clearly a mistake.
He'd been creepy then and was seemingly still being creepy now, if Vox's possessiveness was anything to go by.
"-who does he think he is? Calling you a 'thief of hearts' like he's fucking clever-"
Vox knew you were in the middle of planning a job, the bastard, and he still messaged you an ominous "come here quick" text? What an asshole.
"-doesn't he know you're mine-"
"Vox."
Vox paused in his sentence, arms mid-gesture.
"He doesn't know I'm yours because we haven't told him. Or anyone. You know that."
You and Vox had decided early in the relationship to keep things private.
Your job was easiest if you were a nobody, just another face in the crowd and a shadow on the wall. Dating Vox would mean everyone in the Pride Ring knowing who you were and what you looked like.
Beyond that, Vox was a businessman and prided himself on his reputation. Though most people didn't actively dislike you, being in a relationship with the overlord of thieves may bring some scrutiny to him and VoxTech.
Grabbing his bowtie, you pulled his face closer to yours, grinning as he stumbled and caught himself on the wall behind you, effectively caging you in.
"Besides, you forget, you're mine too-"
His screen glitched and you couldn't help but laugh, tracing the edges of the monitor.
"How about you show me that I'm yours, huh?" you asked coyly, watching his gaze move down to your lips.
Preparations for the heist could wait.
When you two pulled apart again, he smiled softly at you, looking more like the Vox you knew in private, the Vox that was yours.
You were a bit possessive too, who wouldn't be when he's looking at you like that?
He was so distracted that it took him a few moments to realize what you were holding as you dangled his wallet in front of his face, smirking in triumph.
Regardless, he just sighed and took a step back, straightening his blazer.
"What? I think I deserve compensation for you interrupting my work and making me come all the way here."
"Baby, you already have my card, what do you need my wallet for?" he asked, exasperated.
Try as he might, you could see the fondness in his gaze anyhow.
"Fine, fine-"
Grinning, you handed him back his wallet and kissed the corner of his screen as you slipped past towards the entrance of the alleyway.
"-now go play nice for Velvette like you promised, and I'll see you at your place later, yeah?"
It was only after you'd left a meeting that evening, a new soul under contract, that you saw the photos.
Passing a TV store, you glanced at the news playing on one of the displays and froze.
That was you. You and Vox. Kissing.
"-is dating the overlord of thieves! Said to be able to steal anything, even souls, we have to wonder-"
The photo wasn't great quality, but clearly, it had been circulating for a while, as they managed to identify you and your status as overlord.
Ignoring the prickling stares on your back, you slipped into an empty antique shop and called Vox.
"Send a car, I'm coming over early."
"Ah, so you've seen the news then?"
"Vox-"
"Already on it."
Arriving through the back entrance to avoid the crowds of reporters, you escaped into the elevator up to Vox's floor.
Vox was waiting for you when you stalked into the living room.
"Did you know?"
He didn't hesitate.
"No, no I was a bit busy at the time. Besides, that phone was ancient, it probably wasn't on my servers." He paused, and, sensing your mood, added, "I'm sorry this will affect your work."
Well, that was rare.
Vox wasn't one to apologize unnecessarily, his ego was typically too big to even consider saying sorry unless someone told him he needed to.
But if he didn't know, well...
You sighed.
"It's alright, not your fault. Too late to scrub it from online, anyhow, everyone has already seen it."
Moving closer, he wrapped you in his arms, warming you from the chill of the outside.
"Hey, bright side, they think we look good together!"
"Vox-"
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urrockstar-xe · 3 months
Text
forgotten valentines - p.parker x gn!reader
posted feb 1st, 2024 8:14 am.
heres the first day of my countdown to valentines day! whether ur single or just love these silly characters, i hope u enjoy :)
summary: upon the couple stumbling home from working late, reader and peter both realize they've forgotten all about the heart shaped holiday. Not proofread, may have use of Y/n.
masterlist
wordcount: 1.5k
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It was nearing 10 pm when you finally made it home, wanting nothing more than to sit down and use your boyfriend as a human-weighted blanket, but just as you opened the front door you heard shuffling down the hall of your apartment complex, turning to look who was coming and seeing the boyfriend in question, Peter sighed heavily once you both made eye contact, earning a chuckle from you as you entered your apartment, Peter following not too far behind. 
“That wasn’t planned?” you joked quietly, turning on a few lights so it didn’t feel so late that you’d have to whisper. Peter’s quiet laugh filled your ears as he headed for the fridge, opening it up with a sluggish movement. “No, fate just keeps on tugging us towards each other” He teased back, pulling out two sodas before shutting the door with his elbow. 
You pulled off your coat, abandoning it by the door and making yourself comfortable on the couch. Peter soon joined you after taking off his own coat and shoes, he handed you one of the cans, already opened. You leaned into Peter’s side, causing him to throw his arm around your shoulders happily. The clock read 10:12 PM as you flipped through the channels trying to find something to watch. 
“There is a lot of 50 Shades of Grey going on,” Peter said upon realizing how many channels had the 50 Shades movies playing along with every other channel playing romcoms and old romantic dramas. “Yeah, what’s this all about?” you wondered out loud, then the realization hit.
“Oh my god, Peter it’s Valentine's Day!” You sat up, looking at Peter with wide eyes as he checked his phone and his jaw fell, matching your expression now as the date confirmed it. 
“I didn’t even realize it was February” Peter whispered, thinking out loud as you stood up, his eyes following your movements. “Okay, well, we’ve got 2 hours left,” You said, watching him nod in response. 
“It’s too late to grab flowers and chocolate” Peter’s voice was laced with a guilty tone as he spoke, remorse-filled puppy eyes staring up at you. You smiled down at him, hands coming to rest on either side of his face, “That’s okay, it’ll all be on sale by tomorrow morning” Your reassurance and soft touch brought a smile to Peter’s face, “besides, you’re here and not out there” you motioned towards the window, exposing the city of queens who didn’t get the privilege of Spider-man tonight. 
Because you did.
“Will you be my valentine?” Peter asked with a goofy grin on his face, that only grew when you laughed, giving him the exact reaction he had wanted. You nodded, “I’d be happy to be your Valentine, Peter” He smiled at you in return, standing up and causing you both to be nearly chest to chest with the action. 
“C’mon, then, we’ve got a date to prepare for” Peter whispered, planting a kiss on your forehead before leaving the soft moment, walking back to the kitchen. You smiled, abandoning the two barely touched soda cans as you switched off the TV and went to look for a Vinyl to play on your old record player. 
Neither of you had the sharpest memory but that never stopped you from being a damn good team, and times like these always did so well at reminding you both of this sweet fact.
The soft and not-too-loud music filled your small apartment once you finally made your decision. You made your way into the small kitchen as Peter rustled around the pantry looking for something to cook, “we could do pasta!” he exclaimed, too excited about finding something to make, before closing the pantry door and setting the bowtie noodles on the counter, turning to look for ingredients for the sauce. “What kind are we making?” you asked with an amused look on your face, hopping up onto the counter as you watched Peter move around the room. 
“Whichever kind we have the ingredients for,” Peter said, laughing with you as you slid off the counter despite having just barely sat down. “I’ll boil the noodles” Peter hummed in acknowledgment of your announcement, the sound of him clumsily moving behind you filled your ears and blended perfectly with the music, this was perfect. 
“Spaghetti it is!” Peter mumbled to himself before turning around, standing directly behind you as he went to turn on the burner beside the one you were using to boil water. You couldn’t have missed his hand resting on your side if you tried, even if he didn’t squeeze lightly every few seconds. Peter stood there longer than he needed, watching the flame on the left burner while you poured noodles into the pot on the right burner. 
“Just makin’ sure you’re doin’ it right, doll,” Peter explained with a small smirk on his face as if he was reading your thoughts. You scoffed, smiling, “Why don’t you start the sauce so we can have dinner before midnight, yeah?” You asked in a similar teasing tone, not even attempting to hide your heart eyes as you glanced at him. Peter laughed in response, nodding and turning to continue his job for dinner, leaving the spot where his hand sat on your side feeling cold and empty despite your hoodie covering it. 
You both stood wordlessly as you worked, eventually stopping the right burner and allowing Peter to help you drain the water with a strainer before mixing the noodles in with the sauce, “10:57, I think we’re doin’ pretty good on time, what do you think?” Peter smiled at you as you pulled out two bowls, “I think you’re gonna burn our only food option if you don’t turn off the stove” you teased, before smiling back. “We just make a good team” Your second response was more genuine, earning a nod as Peter looked away to turn off the left burner, his smile softening. “Yeah, a great team.”
Together you both set up the table, giggling when Peter ran off to get the candle before setting it down in the middle. “There’s just something missing,” Peter mumbled, watching you sit down at the small table just enough for two people, which is all you needed. 
“I’ll be right back” Before you could argue Peter had run off again, this time to your shared bedroom before stumbling out a few moments later tugging on his suit. “Peter, what are you-” “Don’t start eating yet!” he pointed at you, pulling on his mask with one hand, ignoring the sound of your laughter as he struggled. You watched with an amused expression as he left out the window, the clock now reading 11:09, it’s still early enough to wait so you took it upon yourself to get up and light the candle, along with getting out anything you had to make the rocky road ice cream in the freezer more fun and setting it on the counter.
The sound of the window closing caught your attention, “Look! Ice cream bar!” You said, smiling proudly at your presentation before turning back to your boyfriend just as he pulled off the mask, out of breath and a proud smile settled on his lips too. 
“Look!” he imitated your tone, pulling flowers from behind his back, a little droopy and absolutely taken from your upstairs neighbor, Mrs. Baker’s windowsill, but still perfect. “Flowers!” he finished, both of you laughing before you pulled out a mason jar, filling it with water, and setting it beside the candle. Peter put the 4 dainty white daisies in, smiling at you as he pulled your chair out for you. 
“I love the ice cream bar,” He praised your work, sitting across from you while immediately reaching for your hand, and you happily gave it to him. “I love the flowers,” You responded, honey dripping off the words with how sweet you spoke, blissfully happy in this moment.
“This is perfect! Who needs plans for Valentine’s Day when we’re as great as we are!” Peter said, almost moaning as he finally took a bite of his food. You laughed at his reaction before trying your own. “Last minute dates are our thing, so.” You teased, earning an unserious glare from your guilty boyfriend. 
“I love them though” You reassured, squeezing his hand. 
Peter squeezed back and leaned forward as if to tell you a secret as he softly spoke, “I love you” His gaze was as loving as ever and it was all yours, it was as if he was telling you with his eyes that it always would be. 
“I love you more”
“Impossible”
His immediate response was too cute to argue no matter how badly you wanted to, but instead, you leaned forward just enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Peter sighed at the sweetness of it all, closing his eyes and shaking his head as you sat back down. 
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart”
213 notes · View notes
softspiderling · 2 years
Text
speak now (or forever hold your peace) | b.r.b.
summary: it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life.
pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader
warnings: angst??? IDK! also violence
word count: 5,5k
author’s note: this has been sitting in my drafts for SO LONG! and then i decided to write the entire fucking thing, i'm not even joking, this fic was very much different two days ago but i have been waiting for the perfect moment and i guess it’s now🤭 thank you to sol who has been expressing her excitement for this fic (and we laughed about taylor swift inspired fics, bc this is OBVIOUSLY inspired by speak now (and that one japril moment. you know which one)). I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!!
Fixing the collar of his suit, Bradley stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had opted against his dress-whites, knowing you preferred him in a normal suit. Now however, he severely regretted it, missing the layer of protection his dress-whites provided him. He felt stuffy in the suit, vulnerable. He wondered if there was still enough time to go home and change, when there was a knock on the door. 
“Hey, you just gonna stay in here for the whole ceremony?”
Natasha was eyeing him carefully, not an ounce of shame present on her face, even though she was standing halfway in the men’s bathroom. Bradley put up a brave face, but he knew that she’d see right through it. God, he could already see the pitiful looks on his friends as soon as he’d step out the door again.
“I just- needed to fix my bowtie,” Bradley sniffed, straightening said bow-tie before turning to look at her. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re good, right? No regrets? No desire to ditch?”
Bradley looked back into the mirror to avoid Natasha’s gaze, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair. He had been thinking about ditching the second he entered the venue, but that would just be taking the easy way out. You were his friend, and he should be there for arguably one of the most important days of your life. His own feelings be damned.
“No, this is her wedding. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be. It just… Sucks.” 
Natasha didn’t reply, clearly waiting for him to elaborate, her arms crossed over her chest. Judging by her face, he wouldn’t get around it. She always disapproved of the reasons why you and him didn’t work out.  
“I mean. I knew that this day would eventually come. She’s always been open about wanting to get married and you know, settling down and all. But I thought I had more time to get over her. I mean, I probably won’t ever get over her, but... I sound stupid, don’t I?”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation in Natasha’s voice and Bradley shot her a pained look. With a sigh, she uncrossed her arms and fully stepped inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it.
“I’m sorry you feel this way. You know how I always used to say that the two of you were kind of perfect together. Honestly, I still think that. But it’s literally the day of her wedding. You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. It’s too late now.”
Bradley’s chest tightened, and nodded quickly, dropping his gaze to the floor. “Yeah… Yeah I know.”
“I’m sorry,” Natasha said, reaching out to squeeze arm. “I wish things would’ve been different.”
So did he.
With a deep breath, Bradley glanced at the mirror one last time, before he put his hand on the door knob, straightening his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s go, before you get caught trying to sneak a peak.”
Bradley stepped out of the bathroom and was immediately thrown back into the bustling crowd, full of nicely dressed people. Even Callie, your maid of honor, had cleaned up nicely. 
“Hey, wasn’t sure you’d make it,” she said, not unkind, eyeing him up and down. “She’s down the hall, if you want to say hi.”
Bradley gave her a curt nod, before leaving Natasha to her girlfriend, walking down the hall, looking over his shoulder as the two women watched him go, conversing quietly. Callie had been cold ever since you broke up with him, treating him cordially, like a colleague, but never as a friend. And he didn't blame her, really.
He knocked on the brown door, before stepping inside, where you were sitting in front of the vanity, dressed in a white fluffy robe.
“Hey. How’s the blushing bride?”
“Hi,” you said and he smiled at you, somewhat sorrowfully, taking a seat on the ottoman across from you. “I’m kind of nervous.”
“Pretty sure that’s normal wedding day jitters,” Bradley joked. 
You gave him a self-deprecating smile, clearly lost in thoughts. 
“You okay?”
Bradley’s brows furrowed in worry as he took in your face and the slight frown. People said that wedding jitters were especially nerve-wracking, but you had always been a champ. And you had been looking forward to your wedding day ever since you were a little girl, he knew that.
“Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally my wedding day, you know?”
Bradley pressed his lips together, cupping your cheek gently. “I’m happy for you. Henry is a good man and he treats you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m really glad that you found someone who can give you what you want.”
Even though I wish I could give you what you needed.
You smiled at him, your eyes glassy. Wedding jitters really were something, huh?
“Guess your life plan really is on its track, isn’t it?” 
You choked out a laugh and he grinned at you warmly, squeezing your hand. He grabbed a tissue from the vanity, pressing it gently against your lower lash line so as to not ruin your make-up. 
“Do you want me to give you away?”
“W-what?”
He flushed, realizing his poor choice of words. 
“Do you want me to walk you down the aisle?” he rephrased and you chuckled drily, shaking your head.
“Oh, um, no. I’m good, thank you.”
Nodding, Bradley stood to leave, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, holding onto your shoulder a bit too long than necessary before walking towards the door. He paused, just before crossing over the threshold, turning back like he wanted to say something. Bradley took a deep breath, his lips parted, the words almost tumbling out of his mouth, before he shut his mouth and just like that, he stepped out of the room, the falling shut behind him quietly.
Bradly breathed out harshly, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering if you were thinking about the same thing he was.
“Where is this going, Bradley?”
Bradley’s been ordered for a special deployment overseas. It was all hush-hush, and he didn’t know how long it was going to take and it made you face the impending doom of your relationship. Honestly, he  knew it was stupid to start something with you in the first place. From the first time you talked, you had made it clear that you wanted to find a good man and settle down, have a family and a house with a white picket fence.
Something he could never give you. 
He was still young when his father had died, but he grew up watching his mother juggle with the job of a parent, a job that was supposed to be filled by two parents. Bradley swore that he’d never do this to anyone he loved, that he’d never settle down and have a family himself. 
You didn’t have time to date someone and “see where this is going”. Even so, Bradley had always orbited you, drawn to your carefree attitude and your fierce loyalty towards the people you loved. His stance on settling down was about the only thing that held the two of you back. Instead, you danced around each other, flirted mercilessly, were friends. 
Just friends.
But after a night full of tequila shots and Bradley on the piano, he got weak. And he’d been weak ever since.
Things with you were simple, and it was almost scary how the two of you fell into a relationship that was so intense and burning, he should have known that this would blow up in his face one day.
“What do you mean? The mission isn’t going to take forever, half a year tops. You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?”
He pulled one of his signature Hawaiian shirts out of his closet and threw it over his tank top, barely paying attention to the conversation. 
“Bradley, I am serious.”
With a glance over his shoulder, Bradley took one look at your face, before he crossed the distance between you, sitting on the bed. Lifting his hand, he stroked your cheek gently, a somber look on his face. 
“I want to get married.”
The words visibly cut him and Bradley immediately shut down, shaking his head as he pulled his hand away. Deep down, he’d known that this conversation was coming. He had been pushing it off, distracting you with slow kisses and wandering hands, but there was no pushing it off now. “You know I don’t want to. You’ve always known. Why are you bringing this up?”
“You’ve always known what I wanted, Bradley. What is it, what we’re doing here? Are we just gonna keep dating until we’re old?”
“Why are you turning this into an argument?” Bradley asked defensively, his cheeks turning red, like every time he got mad. “Fine, we both knew going into this that we’ve had different plans for the future, but I thought-”
“You thought what? That I’d just abandon the life I’ve always wanted?”
“This isn’t fair,” Bradley snapped. “Why can’t you respect my decision? It’s perfectly normal not to want to get married.”
“I respect your decision,” you said calmly and Bradley paused, his chest heaving as all the anger suddenly left his body. 
“Then what’s all this about?”
“It’s about me respecting my decision and what I want. And-...” you swallowed thickly, words stuck in your throat. Bradley’s eyes widened when he realized what you were about to say. “I think we have to break up.”
“Now, hold on-”
“Do you want to get married? To me?”
“You know it’s not about you,” Bradley pressed, his breath quickening. “It’s- I am doing this for you!”
“It’s a simple question, Bradley.” 
He opened his mouth, making a sound at the back of his throat, his eyes wide. Bradley didn’t really say anything, but it was enough for you to know. You smiled sadly, tears welling up in your eyes as you put your hands on his shoulders. “Maybe in another life… Maybe we will get our happy end then.” Pressing a soft kiss on his cheek, you left the room quietly, left him. 
Bradley sat there for an hour, stupidly waiting as if you’d come back, even though he knew you weren’t.
The break up had been hard. But he knew that you made the decision with a clear head. It wasn’t fair of you to want him to change his mind on a principle he was set on and it wasn’t fair of Bradley to expect you to give up on marriage. Even though you went no contact with him, he had thought of you every single day while he was on deployment and when Bradley got back, he just begged for another one until he got shipped off to Japan.
When he got called back to Top Gun and bumped into Callie, he couldn’t help asking about you and somehow the two of you were drawn back together, like you were destined to be in his life. And when he first heard about your engagement from Callie, Bradley thought about going to your place and stealing you away, begging you to take him back. 
Bradley wiped his sweaty hands as he walked between the chairs in the venue, before sitting down. He was jittery, and with Jake on the chair next to him, that probably wasn’t going to change any time soon.
“You sure you can make it through the ceremony?”
Bradley detected a hint of concern in the other man’s voice and he gave him a nervous smile, nodding. Jake clapped his leg gently, not entirely convinced, but there wasn’t any time to question him further, as the wedding march started playing. Bradley, along with the other guests, stood up. Your bridesmaids floated down the aisle where Henry was already next to the minister, looking perfectly fine in his steamed suit. The entire wedding party looked like a match-made in heaven, dressed in soft colors, but when you appeared at the end of the aisle?
You took his breath away. 
As you slowly walked past all of your guests, Bradley felt the sudden urge to grab your arm and run, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting from one foot to the other.  You gave him a small smile when you passed him and the one he returned was rather crummy. It should’ve been him waiting for you at the altar. 
God, he was a mess. 
Henry offered you his hand when you reached the bottom of the stairs, and together you ascended, stopping in front of the minister. 
“Could you maybe try and sit still?” Jake hissed to Bradley’s side, but he could barely hear him. The minister was droning on and on as the happy couple stood at the front of the venue, but all Bradley could hear was the blood rushing to his ears. He thought he could do it, sit through the entirety of your wedding ceremony, congratulate you after and have a few drinks at the party, maybe even dance. But now that he was sitting here, watching you get married to another man? He thought he was going to get sick. 
You and Henry turned around to look at your guests, smiles on your faces. Bradley’s mouth dropped open, and he suddenly felt so hot.
“And you, Y/N’s and Henry’s closest friends and family, are here today to bear witness to their union. Will you promise to love and support their marriage in all the days to come? If so, respond we will.”
“We will.” 
The two words got stuck in his throat, even if he had wanted to, he couldn’t have uttered them. For a split-second, your eyes met Bradley’s and he shifted in his seat. You were smiling, but the smile never really reached your eyes. Taking a deep breath, Bradley shook his hands out before suddenly standing up. There was rustling between the seats as everyone turned to stare at him and Bradley started sweating when you furrowed your brows. Bradley opened his mouth, but he couldn’t find the words.
“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” Jake hissed, gently tugging on Bradley’s hand before he sat down again. Bradley exhaled deeply, wringing his hands and you blinked at him nervously, before turning back around, while Henry frowned at him for a second too long. 
He knew that his friends were staring at him and Natasha leaned forward, subtly shaking her head at him, a horrified look on her face. But Bradley felt like he was suffocating if he didn’t speak up right now.
His hands were shaky as he got up once more, but his voice was strong, as it echoed through the room.
“Please don’t marry him.”
The minister stopped mid-sentence, and suddenly all eyes were on Bradley again. The silence was almost unbearable, his skin was prickling at the shocked and angry faces of everyone around him, but he had his eyes fixed on you. You were the only one that mattered.
“I love you,” Bradley said and the commotion he caused was nearly comical. “I made a mistake. I should’ve asked you to marry me the first time we kissed, because that was when I knew that I never wanted to spend a day without you ever again. I never should have let you leave, I should have fought for you. For us. I realize my timing is kind of shitty. I’m sorry it took me having to see you almost getting married to someone else to realize that,” Bradley swallowed thickly. “Don’t marry him. Please.”
When all of the words rushed out of his mouth, Bradley was relieved and terrified at the same time. Next to him, his friends’ reactions varied from covering their faces from embarrassment, mouth agape from the shock and just pure rage from Natasha. You were staring at him with wide eyes, your lower lip trembling. The tension was palpable and the longer it took for you to say something, anything, really at this point, Bradley started sweating, slowly processing what he had done. He was about to turn on his heel and run until he was in Canada when you bunched up the skirt of your wedding dress in your hands. 
Walking down the stairs, you slowly approached him and Bradley held his breath as you stared up at him, face unreadable. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, his heart beating against his ribcage when you suddenly raised your hand and slapped him across the face.
The other guests gasped in shock and stunned, Bradley held his cheek, his mouth dropped open. With a shake of your head, you took off, running down the aisle until you disappeared around the corner. Callie quickly followed suit, giving Bradley a look of disbelief as she passed him. Bradley however was rooted in his spot, and nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe. 
When Bradley had to eject from his F18 during the mission, it was something he never wanted to experience again. His ears were ringing from the explosion and when he was ejected,  all of the oxygen left his lungs. The air was splitting cold, almost burning against his warm skin and when he slowly parachuted down into the ground, pines and needles scratched up his face, before the freezing snow hit him in all the wrong places. Every single limb was screaming in pain and he was so cold.
This was worse.
Bradley exhaled deeply, trying to loosen the knot in his chest, but it only coiled in tighter, especially when Henry stalked towards him. Bradley hadn’t lied when he told you that he liked Henry, because he did. He was a good man. A good man, who was about to sock him in the face, judging by the way his hands were curled in fists.
Whatever was coming, he’d deserve it. But Bradley squeezed his eyes shut anyway, not wanting to get punched in the eye, and he braced for impact.
But it never came. 
When he opened his eyes again, Jake had his hand wrapped around Henry’s wrist, his face hard. 
“I know you’re angry, but this is not the solution. Walk it off,” Jake said evenly and Henry scoffed out a laugh, turning his wrist out of the other man’s grip. 
“Get the fuck out of here.”
Henry came dangerously close to Bradley, his eyes furious, before he spat at his feet, storming off. Bradley was still frozen. 
“We should probably go,” Javy said, gently pushing Jake so he’d move Bradley. “I know we’re a lot of people, but literally his whole family is here and I am not sure if I can fight Henry’s grandma.”
It was a scuffle to get out between the rows of chairs, and Bradley was of no help, stumbling around like he was drunk, needing his friends to steady him as he walked out, past the guests who were slowly clearing out of the venue as well, throwing dirty looks in his direction. Somehow, he got in the backseat of Javy’s jeep, Jake on the passenger seat while Natasha was to his left, watching him with narrowed eyes.
It was only then, that it slowly started sinking in what he had just done.
“Oh my god…” he moaned, horrified, leaning his head down, burying it between his knees. “What the fuck did I do?”
“What were you thinking?” Natasha , her face contorted in anger. “Do you realize what position you put her in?”
“Trace, not now,” Jake muttered and Natasha leaned back in her seat with a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest, staring out of the window. The rest of the car ride was spent in silence, and by the time the car rolled to a stop in front of Bradley’s house, he was miserable.
Without waiting, he tumbled out of the car, trudging inside the house, heading straight to the fridge to grab a beer. He’d nearly drunk the entire bottle by the time the others walked inside, almost a complete set. His squadron lined up in front of him, Jake giving Bradley a pitiful look, handing out beers to everyone, giving Bradley a chance to collect his wits, before it inevitably all came crashing down on him.
“That was fucked up, Rooster.”
Out of all the people, he had expected Bob the least, especially with the expletive. He really messed up badly.
“We’ve had her wedding invitation for ages, you had plenty of chances to tell her how you feel, why would you leave it to the last second?” Reuben asked and Bradley dropped his gaze, because he knew he was right.
Logan made a noise. “His timing was shitty, yes, but the way she reacted tells me she had second thoughts.”
“She reacted like that because Bradley put her on the spot, are you fucking joking?” Natasha snapped at him and Logan’s eyes widened, raising his hands defensively. “She’s been dreaming about this day all her life and you just went and fucked it all up, like it was easy.”
“Tash, take it down a notch,” Javy said and Natasha glared at him. 
“No, I am not going to coddle him. He fucked up, big time and he needs to own up to it.”
“Jesus, I know I fucked up, okay?” Bradley suddenly burst out, his breathing heavy. “I shouldn’t have interrupted the ceremony like that and I shouldn’t have let her leave in the first place all those years ago. But it was not easy for me, Natasha, so don’t say it like I did it for shits and giggles!”
Natasha sighed with a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing a bit, though there was still a frown on her forehead. Bradley looked at his friends, who all wore expressions varying between worry and pity, when he realized that there were people missing.
“Where’s Billy and Neil?”
“I think they’re at Callie’s. Things at the venue kind of bombed after we left and she asked them to come help,” Brigham said, purposefully vague and Bradley’s eyes shoot to him immediately.
“Is-?”
Brigham shifted uneasily on his feet, shrugging with his shoulders. “I think so, yeah.”
“Um. I think I’ll go and apologize, right?” Bradley asked, shoving his empty beer bottle on the counter and Mickey made a hesitant noise.
“I don’t think that’s the best idea? Maybe the two of you need space right now?” He said and Reuben nodded, agreeing with his backseater.
“Yeah, I think you need to give her some time. And you should use that time to collect your bearings, too. Get your head sorted.”
Bradley deflated, leaning back against his fridge and Jake gave him a look, before clucking with his tongue. 
“Alright, how about everyone just get changed and get some rest? And then come back, we’ll do dinner back here, that okay, Bradshaw?”
Jake glanced at him, raising an eyebrow and Bradley muttered a yes in response, knowing that he was only trying to help. And it was probably best if he didn’t stay alone right now, or else he’d do something stupid again. Everyone voiced their agreements and then started filtering out of his kitchen, not without clapping Bradley on the shoulder in consolation. 
Pressing the heel of his hand in his eyes, Bradley let out a deep sigh, before looking up at the remaining aviators in his kitchen. Natasha had her arms still crossed, Javy eyeing her like he was considering putting a leash on, Jake just, uncharacteristically worried and Bob.
“I don’t have enough food in my fridge to feed 11 people,” he then said. He barely had any food in his fridge, if he was being honest, since he was supposed to be eating dinner at your wedding. 
“We’ll just pick up pizza later, don’t worry,” Bob said, giving Bradley a small, comforting smile. “You should rest up.”
Bradley nodded, heading out of the kitchen and upstairs into the bedroom, not missing how the hushed conversation started as soon as he left the room.
“- him? He’s a grown man and he made a mistake.”
“You’re kicking him while he’s down, Trace, have a bit of sympathy.”
“That’s rich coming from you, Bagman, I-”
“Hey, let’s just, take a breather, okay?”
The rest of the conversation faded as Bradley climbed up the stairs and finally reached his bedroom, dropping down on the mattress, face first. He was drained, emotionally and physically. His cheek was still stinging from when you bitch-slapped him across the face. Sitting up, Bradley groaned in frustration, suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, tugging on his bow tie until it unraveled, tossing it somewhere on the floor. His suit jacket quickly followed, the dress shirt got dropped on the floor, and with a bit of resistance, his dress pants got discarded on the floor as well. Grabbing the nearest piece of clothing, he threw on a black shirt and some sweats, hoping to ease the tightness in his chest. Bradley took a deep breath, that was too shaky for his liking, his skin was itching and he was just way too warm. 
He had to get out of there. 
Getting to his feet, Bradley tumbled down the stairs, only stopping briefly in the door to the kitchen, his friends freezing when they saw him. Bradley was sure he looked like a lunatic.
“I need some air,” he gasped out, before disappearing out back through his backward, ignoring the calls.
“Bradley!”
Bradley walked in quick strides, hoping none of them would follow him outside as he cut through the neighborhood until he reached the beach, the salty air filling his lungs. His feet sank into the sand, seagulls crowed as they dove past him and Bradley finally felt a sense of peace in his body. 
Taking in a deep breath, he shut his eyes, only to see your face staring back at him, your hand shaking as you raised it to slap him across the face. Wincing, Bradley forced his eyes open again, the tension back in his shoulders. He had to apologize. Turning his back, he stared into the direction of his house, knowing that there was no way the others would let him go, so he had no other choice but to walk to Callie’s house. It was a two hours walk, minimum, but he could use the fresh air to find the right words. 
By the time he trudged up the walk-way to Callie’s house, it was dark, the sun had set about half an hour ago, right about the same time he got cold. Pressing the doorbell, Bradley rolled his shoulders back, confident that he had found the right words to apologize to you, when Callie opened the door. 
Fuck.
“You got some nerve coming here,” Callie bit at him, glaring. “You know damn well I can kick your ass, and don’t think I wouldn’t just because you’re Natasha’s best friend.”
“I don’t think that she would mind,” he admitted, his voice small. “Can I please talk to her?”
“Why? So you can break her heart all over again?”
Bradley’s heart sank and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “I’m- I just want to apologize. Please. She doesn’t even have to talk to me, I don’t even have to see her, I can talk to her through the door, just- I need her to know that I’m sorry.”
Callie stared him down for at least a minute, before she stepped to the side to let him in. 
“If she doesn’t want to talk to you, you best believe I will kick your ass out of here,” she called after him as he headed inside, waving awkwardly at Billy and Neil who were sitting in the living room. Billy was unimpressed and Neil only sighed when Callie pointed him towards the first floor. 
“She’s upstairs, second bedroom to the right.”
“Thanks,” Bradley said meekly, walking up the stairs until he stood in front of the closed door. There were small sounds coming from the room and he knocked on the door gently, nervously. 
“I am not hungry, Callie,” you called from inside the room, your voice congested. Like you had been crying. Bradley contemplated turning on his heel to leave, not wanting to hurt you even more, but he breathed in deeply, before speaking. 
“It’s me.”
He heard you inhale sharply and he leaned his forehead against the door, closing his eyes.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did in the middle of the ceremony. I just- I thought I could be happy for you, see you off with Henry and maybe even have a few drinks with you, toasting to the new chapter of your life. But when I saw you up there with him. I couldn’t take it. I am not sorry about what I said, because I meant every word. But I am sorry for ruining your wedding and putting you on the spot like that. It was unfair and you didn’t deserve that,” Bradley said softly, sighing quietly. 
There was no reaction on the other side of the door and Bradley accepted that he had done all he could do. 
“I’m really sorry…” he added, before taking a step back, clearing his throat.
Suddenly, the door unlocked and he had an armful of you, beating against his chest with your hands. 
“Do you know how long it took for me to accept the fact that you weren’t going to marry me, Bradley? Ages, YEARS! I was completely heartbroken when we broke up and it took me so long to get back out there, telling myself that I would find someone. When Henry proposed to me, a tiny part of me thought that maybe you would come to your senses and tell me to call off the engagement. Hell, even in the bridal room, I kept thinking that maybe you were going to stop me, tell me that you loved me and that you wanted to marry me. You had so many chances, Bradley. I gave you so many opportunities to catch up with me, and when I finally closed the door on you, you chose the worst possible moment to kick it down screaming?”
The hits against his chest grew weaker and weaker, until you were just clawing at his shirt, breaking down against his body. Bradley wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but silent tears were running down his cheeks as he held you. For a while, the both of you just stood there in silence, both in tears until you pushed yourself out of his arms, wiping the tears from your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.  
Your eyes were rimmed red, and your skin was still glistening with tears, but to Bradley you have never looked more beautiful. 
“You stink,” you said and Bradley let out a water laugh, his chest rumbling. 
“Yeah, I walked here.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “From your house?”
“From my house.”
You hummed, biting on your lip. Bradley reached out to comb your messy hair back, his fingers getting tangled in the knots, before stroking his thumb over your cheek gently.
“Have you talked to Henry?”
You let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah. He lost it. Said that I embarrassed him in front of his entire family and friends. I think he’s still getting drunk at the venue with his boys. My dad almost got in a fist fight with him.”
Bradley smiled at the thought of your father, barely 5’5, trying to take on Henry, who was almost six feet tall. He noticed how you left out how things were between you and Henry, though Bradley didn’t let himself get his hopes up too much. 
“Is it too late?” he asked softly and your eyes found his, unshed tears on your lower lash line. “Am I too late?”
Sighing deeply, you dropped your gaze. “Do you want to get married?”
“I don’t. But I want to get married to you.”
Squawking, you gave him a shove and Bradley stumbled a few steps back, beaming at you. He knelt down in front of you and making you flush.
“Bradley, get up.”
“I am serious. I meant every word I said. If you’ll have me, I will marry the shit out of you. I will make you the best Mrs. Bradley Bradshaw,” Bradley said earnestly and you stared at him with wide eyes. 
“... Okay then.”
“Okay?” 
“Yeah. I mean, I’m not getting younger and my other engagement just fell through-”
Bradley gave you a look, but he nosed along your ring finger, pressing a soft kiss on your skin before standing up, lifting you up with him. You laughed and there were still dried streaks of tears on your cheeks, there were so many obstacles he had to overcome, but he’d take it all, if it meant having you in the end.
author's note: whoop. sorry. this got angstier than I intended. anyways, you know the drill. SHARE! COMMENT! REBLOG!!
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bendysinitiation · 10 days
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(Image ID: Image 1: A rubberhose style monotone Joey Drew. There is one big fullbody of him on the left and three smaller busts of him on the right, On the left, he’s tapping his foot, swooping down, and putting his right arm up with a big smile on his face. He says out of a big speech bubble, “Trust in the Basin!”. Notably, there is ink obscuring his left eye and that side of his face, along with ink dripping down the top of his suit vest. He also wears a big, white tie, and large toon shoes. A pointed tail twists behind him. On the top right is him with his teeth open, staring at the camera eerily. On the middle right is him with an exaggerated frown, and a hand on his cheek. On the bottom right is him at a 3’4ths view with his normal smile. A little panel on the left shows his mouth open in for an L sound, an O sound, and his mouth closed for a M sound. At the bottom of this, it says “Only times when teeth don’t show”. The background has “666” on it. Image 2: Everything is the same, except Joey is now a black shadow. The only things still present besides his silhouette are his white teeth and bowtie, and his eye on the top right picture. End ID)
Memory Joey aka the bastard shadow on the walls! I imagine he has to be activated in order for you to progress the game in, again, Chapter 5, but you can just as easily turn off any light source he’s over and shut him up. The second form is what he usually shows up as, I’m not exactly sure where the first fits in but it was fun to make nevertheless.
As stated before, this is more the memory of him. The real Joey is long gone. He’s nothing like his actual self, in both personality and form, but there are some things that are distinctly Joey about him. His ambition, for one, and his animation (literally) for another.
(Fun fact, the background is taken from a film called “SKYSCRAPER” CONSTRUCTION OF 666 5TH AVE. NEW YORK CITY”)
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fangirl-writes · 1 year
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Exes and Ohs
JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader; Ex-Rafe Cameron x Reader; John B. x Sister!Reader
Warnings(s): female reader, swearing, violence, implied physical abuse (JJ’s dad), harassment
Request: Hiii<3 can I request a fanfic about yn being john bs sister dating jj and having rafe as her ex???ok so i was thinking maybe at a party rafe could be flirting with yn (because he’s obsessed with her ) and jj notices and they fight but it ends with rafe telling jj to keep you safe. Thanks<3
Notes: I put this taking place during the Midsummer’s episode of season 1. I don’t think this is exactly what you were looking for but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
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Your brother had roped you into a lot of stupid things in your lifetime, but this was starting to feel like the stupidest.
“John B, what the fuck are we doing?” You asked as he and JJ pulled the HMS Pogue onto shore.
“I told you, Y/N, I’ve got a plan,” he replied.
“Care to share with the class what it is?”
“You just gotta trust me on this,”
“The last time I trusted you, I ended up on the receiving end of a gun,” You said.
If he heard you, he gave you no indication, just marched through the grass with you and JJ in tow, bags slung over both their shoulders.
“I need you to get this to Sarah,” John B. said, passing JJ a note.
“Ooh, can I read it?”
“No, you can’t read it.”
“Who’s Vlad?”
“God, do you ever listen?”
“Hold up, are you macking Sarah Cameron?” JJ asked.
“I’m sorry, what?” You asked, leaning over JJ’s shoulder to read the note.
“Would you shut up?” John B. replied, blushing in the darkness.
“You’re making Sarah Cameron!” JJ exclaimed, incredulous.
“All right, man. Look, I’m doing it for everybody, all right?”
“You’re macking Sarah Cameron for everybody?” You said.
“No that’s not what I- look, it’s just...it’s like a business transaction, okay?”
“Classy,” you said and then silence, the judgement thick in the air.
“What?” John B. asked.
“Nothing,” JJ replied first, stopping and dropping his bag on the sand. “Thanks for being a team player, bro.”
“JJ-”
“Hey, I didn’t say I wanted to mack Sarah Cameron, that’s all him,” he replied to you, throwing his white button up over his shoulders.
The conversation trickled out as John B. swung the tie around JJ’s neck and did it for him.
You made a mental note to bring this up with your brother again later and pulled off your tank top. You were wearing your swimsuit beneath it and tossed a (f/c) sundress over the top of it, discarding your shorts after it settled.
“So, I just give this to Sarah?” JJ asked, clarifying.
“Yes, just give it to Sarah,” John B. confirmed.
“Vlad? Really?” JJ mused, adjusting the bowtie.
“Shut up. Y/N, I’m gonna need you to distract Rafe.”
“Woah, what? Hold up. No,” JJ protested, frowning deeply.  “No way I’m letting Rafe anywhere near her.”
You rolled your eyes. Rafe was your ex-boyfriend who’d been less than a stellar partner while you were going out. He was obsessive, cruel, and manipulative. Not to mention a classist and a drug addict. 
It was only after you broke up with him that you realized how awful he’d been treating you.
Pro-tip: when your close friends and family tell you how shitty your boyfriend is, chances are pretty good that they’re right.
You stuffed your clothes in JJ’s bag.
He, of course, was your knight-in-shining armor. JJ was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. You two haven’t been dating long, but it feels a hundred percent better than any of the time you were with Rafe.
JJ treats you like a person. Rafe treated you like a trophy.
“Look, JJ, it’s just until you can get the note to Sarah and get out then Y/N can walk away.”
“You really think he’s just gonna let her walk away? Fat chance.”
“JJ, really?” You said, pulling the gun out of his bag.
“Yes, really,” JJ replied. “Especially now.”
“If you get caught with that thing in a pinch you’re going to jail,” John B. said, snatching the pistol out of your hands.
“Fine,” JJ said, pulling off his cap and tossing it to you. “But if Rafe gets handsy I’m coming back for it.”
“You won’t have to worry about that if you just give the note to Sarah and do nothing else to draw attention to yourself,” you said, shoving JJ’s hat into his bag and standing up.
“Ah, come on Y/N, you know me,” he said. “Completely inconspicuous.”
“Not exactly the word I would use,” You replied, about to take his hand.
But John B. caught your arm first. “Hey, I know this is going to suck for you, but this is for us...for dad.”
Your face was stoic and you didn’t meet his eyes. The gold was the thing your father had been searching for before he disappeared, the thing he thought he’d found. If there was even the slightest chance you two could get it...
“I’ll be fine,” you replied, making eye contact with him and smiling. “I can handle him.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” your brother replied, letting go of your arm.
You turned to JJ who smiled and held out his arm, “My lady.”
You smiled again, real this time, and took his arm. You could always rely on JJ to make you feel better.
“Hey,” John B. said, causing the two of you to look back at him. “No funny business in there all right? I expect you in and out. Got it?”
“Don’t worry I won’t bang your sister in a kook bathroom or anything.”
“JJ!”
“Even though that’s a bucket list item for me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh as JJ tugged you forward, quickening his pace before John B. could either tackle him or throw something.
Up ahead, the midsummers party was in full swing. It was twilight, the outer banks cloaked in a hazy blue, and the building glowed with yellow light that sparkled against the kooks’ fancy jewelry.
Both Pope and Kiara were in there somewhere, no doubt hating their lives and if nothing else, you thought, at least this would probably get them out of it.
“Ready?” JJ asked you as you approached the building.
“As I’ll ever be.” You replied, breaking off from him.
“Hey,” JJ stopped you before you could go. “Seriously, if Rafe tries anything I’ll be right there, okay?”
You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss before saying, “I’ve got this. Rafe’s not stupid enough to try anything here.”
JJ didn’t look convinced but let you go anyway.
You disappeared around another side of the building, just close enough to hear JJ before he entered the party.
“I keep finding glasses halfway down the beach. Do me a favor, try to keep ‘em corralled, will ya? I thought you were security.”
You bit back a laugh and snuck through a side door, headed for a bathroom to touch up your hair and hopefully find some perfume to cover up the smell of marsh.
You slid into the bathroom, which was probably the nicest one you’d ever been in. It had vanity lights over each sink, a lounge area with full length mirrors, and soap that smelled like roses.
You dropped your clutch on the counter, pulling out your travel brush and raking it through your hair. You did your best impression of a kook’s basic makeup routine with some added glitter and called it a day, only having so much time.
You slid everything half-hazardly back into your bag and headed for the door only to be knocked in the face with it.
“Oh my god I’m so sorr- Y/N?”
“Kie!” You said, sighing with relief. “Have you got any perfume with you?”
“What? Why? What’re you doing here?”
“John B.’s got a plan. We’re back in the gold game.”
Kiara looked like you’d just told her pigs were flying. “You’re as crazy as John B. I’m not dealing with this right now-”
“Kie, wait, wait, wait!” You pleaded, moving in front of her before she could escape. “I don’t know what the plan is, but I have faith in John B. He has to do this...we have to do this. For our dad.”
Kiara looked like she was about to tell you off, but instead she sighed. “Fine. What do you need to do?”
“Well, JJ’s delivering a note to Sarah so I’m supposed to distract Rafe while he does so. Which, knowing JJ, he’s probably already in position so I need to get out there.”
“Wait, you’re distracting Rafe?” 
“Hopefully not for long, if everything goes right.” You replied, trying to leave again.
“Wait, here,” she pulled out a little vial of perfume and spritzed it on you. "You did kind of smell like marsh water.”
“Thanks. How do I look?”
“Like a kook,” Kiara confirmed. “Let’s hit it.”
JJ spotted you and Kie as you approached the crowd. He motioned with his head and you followed it to where Rafe was standing with Kelce and some other kook guys.
You nodded back at him.
He gave you one last worried look before turning his back and heading towards Sarah.
“Wish me luck,” you said to Kiara before heading that direction.
“Rafe!” You said, sweetly, causing the boys to turn.
Rafe was like a deer in headlights, mouth dropping open at the sight of you. “Y/N? What’re you doing here?”
You chuckled. “Kiara invited me as her plus one. I wanted to see some of my old kook friends again.”
“Did you now?” Rafe replied, falling back into his asshole role as he stuck one hand in his suit pocket and gestured with the other. “Cause I’m pretty sure the last time we spoke you told me you never wanted to see me or any of my upper class bitches again.”
You clenched your jaw under your smile. “I was in a bad mood. Usually happens when you catch your boyfriend snorting coke through wads of cash. Got any of the white stuff in your system tonight?”
“As a matter of fact, I don’t.”
“Good. Your dad would probably castrate you, not that there’s much to take.”
Rafe’s smirk dropped momentarily as a chorus of ‘ooh’s went around the group of boys.
“Funny. I don’t remember you complaining when I took your virginity.”
You blushed. More oohs.
“Funny. I don’t remember it at all.”
“Oh, yeah? How about I remind you?”
You pulled a face, façade dropping. “Fuck you, Cameron.”
“Well, if you insist,” he replied, taking a step forward and a flash of fear jolted through you before-
“Oh! Sorry about that guys.”
You let out a breath of relief as JJ stepped between you, effectively dumping a cocktail down the front of Rafe’s suit.
“I was just trying to deliver that mai tai you ordered. But, really, I’d say this is an improvement. I mean the wetness really shows off that nonexistent dick you’ve got.”
“Nice of you to join us, JJ,” Rafe said, recovering and grabbing him by the shirt. 
“Well, no time to talk now, I’m on the clock,” JJ said, always a better liar than you. “Maybe we can catch up later, huh? Until then, how about you guys help yourself to some hors d’oeuvres?”
“Funny, you’d show up right now. Just when your girlfriend was about to dump your ass and get back together with me.”
“Was she now?” JJ asked, looking at you.
You grimaced and shook your head.
“Ah, well, the lady refutes your story. Always believe the victim.”
“Victim? Oh no, she’s anything but that. She came waltzing over here in that little dress ready to stir up trouble,” Rafe said. “She wanted to cheat on you, pogue. What’ve you got to offer?”
"Well, you know that’s the funny thing-”
BAM. JJ’s fist connected with Rafe’s nose and he broke free of the hold, grabbing your hand and racing through the crowd of kooks.
“Thank god for you, JJ Maybank,” you said.
“Never should’ve let you near those dicks anyway. Should’ve just taken my chances on my own. I could take them.”
“Well, you might get your chance because they’re following us.”
“Fucking swell.”
You and JJ zipped through the lobby, stirring all of the fancy kooks to stand and watch the commotion. 
“Sorry! Sorry! Lovely dress!” You shouted as you passed people.
“Hey, JJ, come on!” Rafe yelled from behind you. “We just wanna talk, alright?”
JJ ducked into the nearest bathroom, taking you along with him.
“JJ, I can’t be in here!” You protested as he drug you through the men’s restroom. 
Where there were men.
“Ah, excuse me, guys,” JJ said, rattling the door handles on the stalls.
Shit, it probably did look like JJ was trying to bang you in a kook bathroom.
“Just really gotta go,” he said, cursing to himself when they were all occupied.
He squeezed your hand and tried to duck through the locker room, only to be cut off by Rafe. 
“Hey, man, what’re you doing in the locker room, huh?”
He immediately turned around and tried to head the way he came, but you were surrounded.
“JJ!” You shouted as a kook knocked him backwards, his hand slipping from yours as you stumbled into two boys behind you.
“Wow, that’s a cute outfit,” JJ said, stumbling into Rafe.
“Shut up,” Rafe replied.
The two kooks gripped your arms, causing you to cry out.
“Hey!” JJ said, trying to come to your aid, only to be grabbed and put into a headlock by Kelce.
“I know your not classy, JJ, but trying to fuck your girlfriend in a men’s bathroom?” Rafe clicked his tongue. “Now that’s just uncivilized. Y/N should be treated better.”
He caressed your cheek with one hand and touched parts you couldn’t defend with the other. You tried to bite him. “Fuck you!”
“God, you hear this guys? She really wants to get in my pants. Just obsessed with me,” Rafe adjusted his jacket and smirked as he turned back to JJ, who was still struggling against Kelce and fuming. “Now, as for you.”
JJ flailed and fought, but Kelce was stronger.
“Hold him still. What do you think? A four iron, right?” Rafe said, adjusting his hands like he was holding a golf club. “Keep his head still, I’m gonna line this up.”
“Very Rafe of you, Rafe,” JJ spat, struggling to breath. “Five on one?”
“JJ, stop talking,” you pleaded.
“Listen to the lady, JJ,” Rafe replied, smirking. “It’s very disrespectful when I’m trying to hit a ball. Learn your etiquette my friend.”
You struggled against the kook boys, but you were terrified. This was your worst nightmare, being helpless like this. And if they somehow hurt JJ and got you by yourself...
“Rafe, please, leave him alone!” You begged.
“Oh, the time for pleading is over, sweetheart,” He replied, not even looking at you. “You made your choice.
Fuck. John B. was going to get an earful from you for this. All because he had a hard on for Sarah Cameron. 
Rafe leaned down to get a better look at JJ. “And what a choice it was. Your face looks really bad. Starting to look like your dad a lot more.”
JJ spit in his face.
Rafe laughed, wiping it away with ease, looking almost impressed. “Oh, shit! You see how dirty this pogue, is, Y/N?”
The lights started flickering and you let out a sigh of relief as security entered the room.
“Gentlemen,” he said.
Kelce dropped JJ and pushed him away. You ran to him immediately, checking him over, but he assured you he was fine and focused on the security guard.
“Is there a problem here, guys?”
“Oh! Pardon me, officer. No there’s not an issue, I just-” JJ said before starting over. “Actually, yes. No, there is an issue.”
JJ Maybank. Always quick on his feet.
“Uh, we got a criminal trespass in progress here. Beep! Call it in, right? Blatant disrespect for private property,” JJ said.
The kooks looked like they wanted to react, but they wouldn’t so they wouldn’t get in trouble with their daddies.
“And! And I tried to screw this fine young lady-” JJ grabbed your arms gently, pulling you forward. You smiled awkwardly. “In this here bathroom. As you can see, I’m in violation of all kinds of shit, sir. But these young gentleman...”
JJ straightened Kelce’s collar, who immediately pushed him off.
“...uh, caught me, sir, and they’re about to take me away. And that’s what you should do, escort me outta here. All right.”
The officer, not caring enough to refute JJ’s bullshit (but brilliant) of a story, did as requested and led JJ out of the room. You quickly followed.
“Fix that tie, son,” JJ said, one last quip. “You’re lookin’ spiffy, too. You Powerpuff Girls have fun.”
“Better keep that girl of yours safe, JJ,” Rafe yelled back. “Or I’ll remind her how a real man feels.”
“JJ, don’t!” You said but he’d already ripped himself away and went back to fight.
Thankfully, the security guard was there to separate them all again.
JJ was spiraling, fast. You could see it in the way he stumbled as the security guy led him back outside. He was practically slurring as he assured the guard he could walk on his own.
“Let me just walk out by myself. Oh, Mr. Dunleavy, I see that you got your drink. Good, that’s really nice of you. I’m actually gonna down that,”
He did as he said he would and downed the drink (whiskey, presumably).
“Y/N, you want one? Here’s Mrs. Dunleavy’s. Little wine for you,” he handed you the glass and, desperately needing a drink, you swallowed it as fast as you could.
“Sorry, sir,” the guard said, ushering JJ away. 
“I really appreciate the discretion, Daryl,” JJ said. “It’s okay everybody! Do not panic!”
You couldn’t help but smile as you watched JJ (in his own way) ruin the party.
“Leave it to the men and women in uniform. Let’s hear it for them!” He started clapping and you started laughing. “Rose! You look like Lady Liberty. It’s good to see you again.”
“Let go of him.” Kiara demanded.
You cringed. Damn it. Kiara’s scene would be much more righteous and way less funny.
“You can’t just boot him! I invited him,” Kiara said. “I’m a member of this club.”
“And what about her?” Daryl (the security) asked.
“Oh, she can plus one with me, if she’s good,” Rafe said, smiling wickedly.
You wanted to vomit.
JJ, having enough, shoved Daryl back into a table.
“Sorry about that! And Y/N,” He said before dipping you into a kiss, which you happily returned.
When he put you back upright you were a little dazed and surprised by the action, but not upset.
Rafe looked upset.
That made you smile.
“Hey, mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie,” JJ said. “Pope, you as well, all right?”
“Rixon’s cove. Let’s roll,” You said, sliding your hand into JJ’s.
You and JJ were high on trauma. And you didn’t give a fuck. 
You backed out of there like you owned the place.
John B., who had somehow slipped in unnoticed here at the end, greeted the two of you with a celebratory whoo-hoo.
“Colonel,” JJ said, saluting.
“Captain,” John B. replied. “M’lady.”
You mock curtsied.
“Mission accomplished, sir,” JJ said.
“Good, let’s get the hell out of here,” John B. replied.
You jumped on JJ’s back as Pope and Kiara joined you, all of your spirits rising as you disappeared into the darkness of OBX. 
“Later losers!”
And that was that.
You went to Rixon’s Cove, John B. finally spilled the beans about the gold and Sarah Cameron (well, not all the beans with that one, you were sure of that).
Now you were waiting in the van with Kie, Pope, and JJ while your brother hiked up to the Kildare Hawk’s Nest to get a map from Sarah. Which was even stupider than the plan beforehand.
Mostly because Kie was pissed, JJ was smoking weed to cope, Pope was stressed about getting caught, and it was about to start thunderstorming any second.
“Kiara, holding onto your grudge is like drinking poison and thinking Sarah will die,” Pope said.
“Exactly.” JJ agreed. “Unless its Rafe Cameron who threatened to rape your girlfriend. Then the grudge is justified.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Kiara said, momentarily forgetting about John B. and Sarah to be concerned about you.
You shrugged. “It’s not that big of deal. He’s an asshole. And he didn’t explicitly mention rape-”
“I can’t believe John B. made you face him yourself,” she said, a look of disgust crossing her face.
Ope, she’s circling back.
“I said I would, okay?”
“That doesn’t excuse it, it was his idea-”
“Kie, can we not right now, okay? You’re just pissed at him anyway,” you said.
She frowned but dropped it.
You laid your head on your boyfriend’s shoudler. “JJ saved me, as usual.”
“Ah, it was nothing, just a little alcohol to break up the party,” JJ replied.
“Wait, what exactly happened?” Pope asked.
“Well,” JJ said, ready to spin into a story of the night’s events. “Good ol’ Rafe was going to make a move on Y/N, but luckily I was right there to swoop in with a glass of...what was it a mai tai? I don’t know, but I dumped it all down the front of Rafe’s suit and started apologizing and shit, you know the good lies. Then he said some more shit about Y/N so I popped him in the nose - pop - and took Y/N’s hand and ran off. Rafe and Kelce followed us-”
“Wait, do you guys hear that?” Kie interrupted, sitting up and looking out into the darkness.
Thunder crashing was all you heard before-
“Please, somebody help!”
“Oh, wait no, I hear that,” JJ said.
“Shit.”
The four of you bailed out of the van immediately and started heading toward the voice.
When you got to the hawk’s nest, John B. was on the ground and Sarah was crouched over him.
“Oh my god!” You cried out, running over there with the others in tow.
“Sarah, what happened?” Pope asked.
You slid on your knees next to your brother.
“I don’t know what to do. He needs help, Topper shoved him,” she said.
A fire ignited in JJ. “Where the hell is he?”
You leaned down and put your ear to his chest, his heart beat and you let out a sigh of relief.
“Someone call somebody!” You shouted, looking at your three friends. “911 or something, go!”
Pope took off first and JJ knelt next to you. “He’s gonna be okay, okay?”
Tears welled up in your eyes. “Come on, John B. You’re all I’ve got left. I can’t lose my brother to.”
“Pope come on!” 
JJ wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you cried. Not him. Not John B. Not after everything.
“JJ,” you whispered later when John B. was in a hospital bed with a concussion and broken wrist. “Don’t leave me...”
“Never,” He whispered back. “I’ll never leave you.”
This was up there for probably the worst night of your life. Maybe worse than the night your dad disappeared and Rafe was snorting coke on a coffee table while you were crying your eyes out.
But JJ was here now, just like he was then. Holding you like his life depended on it.
And Pope and Kiara were there, too, for a while, until Ward Cameron made the adult decision to call their parents.
He didn’t have JJ’s dad’s number, not that he’d have answered if he did. 
So JJ stayed with you all night.
He was there when Sheriff Peterkin made you tell her the truth. The whole truth.
And you did.
Well, most of the truth.
The gold was still your little secret.
“I’d like to offer you something, Y/N,” Ward said that morning. “I’ll tell your brother, too, when he wakes up.”
You eyed the man warily and exchanged a look with JJ, who squeezed your hand.
“Okay...”
“I’d like to be your legal guardian, if you’ll have me.”
Your eyes widened slightly.
“I heard what you told the sheriff, and Sarah filled me in a bit, but I know how hard you kids have had it. I’d like to give you a roof over your head and meals on the table,” He continued. “And this way, you and John B. wouldn’t have to be seperated.”
The tears were starting to come back to your eyes. “I-I don’t know what John B.’ll say, but if he’s in, I’m in.”
Ward smiled. “Sounds good, kid. We’ll let you know when he’s awake.”
He stood up and went to go talk to the doctors about something or other (probably the bill you couldn’t afford without him) and you sat a little stunned.
“Your gonna go live with the Camerons?” JJ asked, quietly.
“Yeah, I...I guess I am.”
JJ squeezed your hand again. “But what about Rafe?”
You felt like a bucket of water had been dumped over you. Fuck. Rafe.
“He...he won’t be dumb enough to try anything while John B.’s there. And- And his dad is the one taking us in. He worships his dad...we’ll be fine.”
JJ’s jaw tightened and he kissed your temple. “Sneak me in your window?”
You nodded. “Every night. And you can bang me in a kook bathroom now.”
He laughed quietly, but you felt his chest rumble. It made you smile.
JJ would keep you safe. He promises it with every touch.
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scintillyyy · 7 months
Text
Dick takes a deep breath as he fiddles with the bowtie of his tux. Everything will go just fine, he tells himself. It's a perfect day. He's getting married. Happiest day of his life. Nothing can ruin it. Nothing. Not the snafu with getting the marriage license. Not Bruce breaking his back and not being able to come. Not even any reservations he might be having about whether this is even a good idea to begin with. Really, none of that will matter once the music starts, the vows are said, the cake is cut. Any negativity will just be a minor footnote in the best day of his life.
"Nice bowtie," a vaguely familiar voice snickers from behind him. "You look really dapper." It takes everything in Dick not to visibly startle. It would have been really embarrassing if he had. He is Nightwing, after all. He's better than that.
So who could have possibly gotten the jump on him? His awareness is second to (almost) none. His mind shifts into high gear, this could be dangerous and he really, really does not need this on this perfect day-
He whirls around, tensing, mentally preparing for a fight if need be-
"You," he sputters, instead. The kid--*the* kid, circus kid--is sprawled on a chaise and furiously pressing buttons on his cell phone. He opens and shuts his mouth in disbelief, trying to figure out what on earth is happening. Why. How. "What are you doing here?" he finally manages to get out. This kid has been annoyingly evading him for months after the debacle at Haly's and he just shows up here? Now? Why.
The kid holds up a finger as if to say 'hold that thought'. Dick clenches his jaw in annoyance. The kid presses a few more buttons and finally looks up at him.
"These brick phones, my god," the kid says, "Forgot how annoying T9 texting is, really, how do you guys even deal-" the kid stops himself and clears his throat, "Sorry. Um. Did you ask something?"
Much to Dick's consternation, though, Timothy Drake just looks delighted. "You figured it out," he says brightly. "I mean. Of course you figured it out. I wouldn't have expected anything less."
Dick bites back a frustrated groan. "Yea," he snaps. " I asked 'what are you doing here'," he pauses, "-Tim." He says the name with a sharp smile. Hopefully that put a little pressure on the kid, the fact that Dick figured him out. He deserves it. It's what he gets for thinking he can one up Nightwing. And for the way he walks around all holier than thou, totally secure in his knowledge of everyone's secret identities--seriously, how does he even know-
Ugh. Awful. Dick was really hoping the kid would be intimidated. It's rather annoying that he's not. "You didn't really think I'd believe your name was Alvin Draper, did you?"
Tim smirks and opens up his mouth as if to reply when he's interrupted by the sound of a ringing phone. He holds up a finger one more time to Dick before answering his cell. "Hello?" he says. "Mom! You made it to Gateway City alright? How was the flight?" he pauses. Dick can hear a female voice coming out of the phone, but can't make out any words. "Geez, mom, don't you dare stress about it," Tim continues on, completely ignoring Dick again. "You're gonna knock the guest lecture out of the park. I know it. Me?" Tims eyes dart to the side. "Of course I'm at school. Where else would I possibly be?" He pauses for a minute. "I promised you I'd stop sneaking off campus, didn't I?" Another pause. "Seriously, I'm at school, I swear." Tim bites his lip. He looks a little guilty. Dick can't deny the little satisfaction he gets from that. From the sound of it, the kid is quite the lying little truant. He should feel guilty. Especially because he's lying to come bother Dick on his wedding day. A day that has enough little problems as it is. Dick really does not need more. "Okay. Okay. Will do," Tim is saying to the woman on the phone. "Yea. Love you. Bye." Tim finally hangs up the call and his expression brightens again as he looks back up at Dick. "Sorry about that," he says. "So what did you want to know again?"
Dick grinds his teeth. For the love of- "What are you doing here?" he asks--for the third time.
"Oh, that," Tim says brightly. "I just thought you might want to know that Raven's going to crash the wedding, like literally, crash into the wedding and totally blow up the officiant today. Like kablooey, poof." Tim waves his hands around his head for added effect. "Not a fun time for anyone here. You might wanna do something about that."
Dick can feel his brain short-circuit as he tries to make sense of what the kid is telling him. He can feel his temper start to rise as what the kid said really sinks in. "No way," he snarls. "Just because you got lucky at the circus and somehow saved Wilhelm and you seem to know way too much for your own good doesn't mean you get to come in and make all sorts of wild accusations about my friends, how dare you-"
Tim looks genuinely disheartened by Dick's anger. "I'm not trying to cause trouble, really," he says. "I was just hoping to stop anything bad from happening today. I thought you'd at least consider believing me after Haly's." Tim shakes his head with a small sigh of defeat. "Seriously, I expected Bruce totally brushing me off, but I figured I could count on you to keep an open mind. Well, at least I tried. Stay safe out there." Tim jumps off the chaise in one smooth motion and moves to head towards the door.
"Wait," Dick says. It's probably a bad idea to even entertain this crazy kid. But it's probably an even worse idea to just let him go like this. Tim pauses and looks back expectantly. "What do you mean, you expected Bruce to brush you off. About what?"
Unfortunately, Dick does know Bruce. And he knows that Tim is exactly right about that. "It's terrible, isn't it?" Dick sighs in agreement before he can stop himself. Tim's eyes light up in absolute elation. Dick groans internally. He shouldn't have even given the kid an inch. Somehow he just knows that Tim is going to take a mile.
Tim snorts. "I totally tried to warn him that Bane was aiming to break his back and that fighting everyone without help was going to bite him in the butt, but did he listen? No, of course not. He probably thought the warning was part of Bane's master plan to take him down and ignored it," Wait. Bruce was warned about the injury and didn't do anything to stop it so he could come to Dick's wedding. What a--Dick grits his teeth. Tim rolls his eyes. "Probably my fault anyway. I should have known better. I mean, you know Bruce. Sometimes trying to help him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone."
But still. Somehow this annoying, cagey, know-it-all kid is right. The kid was right at the circus. He's right about Bruce. And as much as Dick doesn't want to think about everything that's downright conspiring to ruin what should be the best day of his life, maybe he should at least hear the kid out and consider whether he's right about this too.
Ugh. Terrible. So much for nothing can possibly ruin his day.
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oliversrarebooks · 4 months
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Fitz's Volunteer Part Two: Backstage
Part One Masterlist
November 1923
TW: mind control, hypnotic induction, blood drinking, still self-indulgent
You were hypnotized by Phantom Fitz, small-time vaudeville magician and mesmerist, in front of a hundred men, women, and children.
There's no way you would be able to concentrate on the rest of the vaudeville show after that, even if you weren't so tired.
The part of your mind that isn't completely in a fog is just thinking about your stage experience over and over and over again. How much you felt like you were slipping into a deep sleep. How good it felt to listen. How easy it was to go along with everything the magician said, without the slightest hesitation. It scares you, even as a part of you wishes you could feel it again.
As the last act winds to a close, a thought nags at you. You need to go see Fitz backstage. Maybe this sort of feeling happens to everyone he entrances, maybe he knows a way to counteract it. Yes, it makes perfect sense to you. He's the only one who could help you.
 The audience begins to disperse, but instead of heading to the exits, you climb up the stairs to the stage and head into the wings. You expect someone to stop you, but no one notices until you're all the way backstage. "Excuse me, where are you headed?" says a baby-faced stagehand.
"Oh, uh..." You're not sure how to explain it yourself. "I need to see the magician, Phantom Fitz. Do you know where I might find him?"
The stagehand accepts this immediately. "Oh, yeah, down that hall, second door on the left. That's his dressing room."
"Thanks," you say, heading in the direction he pointed.
You hesitate in front of the door. You were so determined to go see Fitz backstage that you didn't really think about the implications. This man had you fully under his spell. Is it actually wise to be alone with him? What if his mesmeric powers are real? What if he can sink you back under with a word?
Before you can make the choice to either walk away or knock, the door opens. Fitz's face lights up to see you. "Ah, my perfect, hypnotized assistant!" he says. "Come in, come in. What can I do for you?"
He waves you in, and you feel helpless as you walk into the dressing room and let him shut the door behind you. It looks quite mundane, with a rack of costumes, a vanity strewn with stage makeup, combs, and accessories, and a small cot covered in blankets. Fitz has lost his tailcoat, cape, hat, and bowtie, and is wearing a simple white button-down shirt and black slacks.
He's just an ordinary man, isn't he? You feel a bit foolish.
"Is something troubling you?" he says, pulling up a stool for you to sit on. "I hope it wasn't anything that I've done. You were an ideal assistant, you know -- the crowd absolutely loved the act."
You swallow hard. "It's -- just that --" you start, unsure of how to explain this. If the hypnotism was all fake, you're going to sound insane; if the hypnotism was real, well, then, you'd be admitting to this stranger that he had you completely under his power.
Fitz leans in with a conspiratorial smile. "You're still feeling hypnotized, aren't you?"
"Yes," you say, glad he was the one to say it and make the decision for you. "I know you praised me for playing along, but it felt so real, and now I'm having trouble focusing on anything else."
"Oh, you're far from the first person who has felt that way," says Fitz in an understanding tone. "My act is very convincing, and the power of suggestion can be very strong. It's nothing at all to be embarrassed about, and it doesn't mean you're weak-willed or foolish. I can certainly help put it all to right, dear."
"Oh, thank goodness." Relief washes over you.
"You see, the bit with the pocketwatch, that's all an act. That's just for show, to misdirect the audience and keep them interested in what's happening on stage. None of that is real. You can't actually hypnotize a person with a watch and a bit of patter," he says, getting up and walking behind you.
"I didn't think so, but the way I felt..."
"That's because the pocketwatch hypnosis isn't real." He lays a hand on the top of your head, and you're flooded with warmth. "What I'm doing to you now, though, is."
"What --"
"Just fall back under my spell now, dear," he whispers in your ear, leaning in so close as his hand caresses your head. "Fall deep, deep into that pleasant, helpless hypnotic trance that your mind remembers so well."
You let out a soft noise of surprise as you can feel the enchantment taking your mind once more, struggling fruitlessly against the sensation. It was a mistake to come here. He has you entirely at his mercy, and this time, there's no audience to watch.
"Aww, you're so sleepy, aren't you? Look at those heavy, drowsy eyelids fluttering, trying to stay awake. Don't fight it, dear. You know how badly you want to fall back asleep and listen to my wonderful voice."
That sleepy feeling seems to be pouring into you from his touch. Your head lolls forward as he runs a finger down your cheek and neck. It feels amazing. Why struggle against it? Why not just fall asleep and listen, just like he wants you to?
"Good, there you are. No resisting," he says. "Shut your eyelids down. Back into hypnotic sleep. So relaxed, so obedient. You can trust me, remember? You can trust me and listen to me while you sleep."
Your eyes close. You feel just like you did on stage, half-asleep and dreaming, waiting for commands, eager to please. You can trust him. You can listen. 
"Completely lost in obedience and pleasure," he says, as a shiver runs down your spine. "You don't mind if I touch your pretty neck, do you?"
"No..."
"Of course not," he says, breath strangely cool on your ear. Nimble fingers trace up and down your neck, and you're captivated in his touch, your head tilting to the side to give him further access. He chuckles. "Such a good assistant. So utterly hypnotized."
Oh, you are.
"You're going to feel a bit of pressure right here," he says, brushing a sensitive spot on your neck. "But you're so relaxed and obedient and so deep asleep that it isn't going to bother you, is it? You're going to just melt into it and feel so good."
Through your haze, you're not entirely sure what he's talking about, but you nod submissively. Whatever he wants, anything he wants.
And then you feel it, the pressure on your neck, a sharp puncture. He has a hand over your mouth preventing you from crying out, but after a moment, your body floods with euphoria radiating out from the wounds. You've never felt anything like it.
He's drinking from the wounds, drinking your blood. He's a vampire. You must be dreaming. It certainly all feels like a dream. It should be a nightmare, shouldn't it, having a monster drink your blood? You could die here. But it feels more like a lovely dream that you never want to end.
Your head goes even more fuzzy as you slump against Fitz. He nurses blood from the small punctures as you begin to fade in and out of unconsciousness.
There's a hand on your wrist, checking your pulse. "Apologies if I took too much. Bad habit," he says softly. "I expect you'll be fine after a good rest."
You don't care. You don't have it in you to be worried. Everything feels so wonderful and hazy and you only want to curl up and go to sleep.
Fitz lifts you up off the stool, and you barely manage to crack your eyes open as you're transferred to the cot. He pulls warm blankets around you and you don't even have the energy to stir. Through your blurred vision, you see him kneeling by the bed, running his fingers through your hair.
"Pleasant dreams, my perfect assistant," he says. "When you wake up, you'll leave the theater with no memory of what happened just now, all right? You came backstage, we talked, and you were tired so I let you rest for a while. That's all, isn't it?"
"Mmm," you murmur, the memories already fading out. "That's all."
"I do hope you come back to see me again, dear," he says. "Now that you know what it's like, I expect you'll be far less shy about volunteering next time."
You lack the energy to respond as your mind absorbs his suggestions. Yes, you would love to come back and see Fitz's magic show again...
Part One Masterlist
Thank you for visiting Fitz's magic show! Please come as often as you'd like.
@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king
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hikarimiyanaga · 3 months
Text
The Queen's Bride (Part 3)
Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.
Taglist : @kelloggs4cereal
Sorry for not updating immediately, holidays are crazy here and I have writer's block.
You come home to Catelyn and Ned Stark waiting for you in the mansion's living room.
"Mother. Father." You greet them. Ned scoffs as you bow respectfully at them.
"You are late." He points out and you clench your fist.
"I apologize for the tardiness, Father." 'Never mind the fact that you literally just called me an hour ago.' You bow and he waves away your apology.
"Your mother has prepared a suit for you in your room. Go change and behave yourself at the gala. Understood?" You nod then bow at him.
"Of course."
"Go." He waves you away and you go up to your room. Thankfully, everyone else is asleep so you go straight to your room and change into the white suit with a gray bowtie. Your house's colors.
You go down and see only Catelyn waiting for you.
"Y/N. You look dashing, daughter." You nod as she pretends to fix your tie.
"Thank you, ma." You smile sadly at her as you pull away. "I'll be going now."
Catelyn can only watch as you go into your car and drive away.
She didn't want this. She didn't even want to disturb your day.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him."
-
You arrive at the gala and sigh. Galas for the nobility of the Westeros Conglomerate are quite common. There's like one every week. But not everyone has to attend. Not you, at least.
"Finally arrived. You are late." Robb greets and you roll your eyes at him.
"Shut up." You punch his shoulder and he grins at you.
"Thank the gods that you arrived." He holds out a glass of champagne and you take it.
"You need saving?" You ask as you down the champagne.
"Desperately. Every mother wants me to marry their daughter." You laugh at that.
"Never mind that most of them are still underage, right?" He glares at you as the both of you go inside.
"Asshole." You just grin in return and was about to get another glass when someone holds your wrist.
"Finally." Your eyes widen as Daenerys smiles at you. "You are late."
"What? I-I didn't know I was-"
"Supposed to attend? I suppose not. But this is an heir's birthday gala." You look at Robb who was just smiling at you.
"We have him." You point at your older brother and Daenerys nods.
"I suppose so. But still, remember the plan?"
"Plan? We have one? You only gave me rules."
"Yeah. But we have one plan." She pulls you closer. Enough that you can smell her scent. You realize that she smells like sandalwood.
"W-what?" She pulls away and fixes your collar.
"We need to convince everyone that we're in love."
"We do?"
"Yes. I don't this to become just another arranged marriage."
"But it is." She smiles at you.
"Yes. But we can pretend that it's not."
"Why?"
"Too many questions, Y/N." You clear your throat and hold out your arm to her. She smiles as she gets your hand and pulls it to her waist instead. "This is better." She explains and you just nod as you blush profusely. You look at Robb who was smirking at you.
"Good luck." He mouths and you flip him off. He laughs as he goes inside the gala.
"Remember. Look at me like you're in love with me."
"Of course. Can I ask just one question?"
"Sure."
"Are you in love?" She smiles at you.
"That's a secret." She then pulls you inside.
-
You sigh as you get inside the bathroom.
You've been talking to other people for about an hour and you are exhausted. Specially with everyone's snickers and whispers.
"How could a Stark like her have a Targaryen as a fiancé?"
"Isn't she the Omega of the Starks? Did she get lucky?"
"How did Ned convince King Aerys???"
You run a hand through your face and look at the mirror.
"Fuck this gala!" You shout and flinch as a stall opens.
"I agree. Hi, Y/N." Ellaria says and you sigh in relief.
"Ellaria. Is Oberyn around?"
"Yes. He accepted because he wanted free drinks. Why are you here?"
"Ask my Father." You groan as you wash your hands.
"Your father really does control your life, doesn't he?" You glare at her. "How about your training? Does he know?"
"He doesn't. I doubt he'll approve."
"Even though Master Syrio has approved and even recommended you?"
"Yes. Even if fucking Ser Barristan can recommend me, I doubt he'll give a shit."
"Your father is so strict when it comes to you but your brother and sisters has freedom."
"Do they? Do any of us?" You laugh at your own question. "Sometimes I think about running away from all of this."
"Westeros?"
"Everything." Ellaria sighs at your defeated sigh.
"I am not Oberyn. But there is one thing I know. You are one of the most honorable people here. You have to survive." You smile at her then look at the mirror as she leaves.
"Survive? But I-" You clench your fists. "I want to live."
-
You come back to the gala and see that Daenerys is charming yet another group of people. You look around and see Robb talking to a woman. You smile as he lights up as she talks.
"Robb has finally taken a liking to a woman, eh?" You shiver and back away. "Don't be like that, Stark. I know that you're friends with Tyrion." You glare at Jaime.
"Exactly. Tyrion. Not you, ass-hat." He chuckles at the insult then looks at you.
"I heard that your fiancé is showing you off."
"Why the fuck do you care?"
"I actually wanted to marry you, you know?" You shiver at that and you clench your fists as you look at him. "I needed you as shield."
"Why because you're fucking your own-" He quickly covers your mouth and you push him away.
"Shut your mouth, Stark!" He dumps his glass on you and you clench your fist at him. "That's right, stay down, fucking dog."
Daenerys comes to your side then glares at Jaime.
"What happened here?" She asks with an angry tone but you stay quiet. You know what the consequences are if you ever messed with an heir. Specially a Lannister one.
"It was an accident, dear princess." Jaime says and you sigh. "She bumped into me and I didn't budge."
"Really?" She asks you and you look away. You stand and Robb is there, ready to punch Jaime. He was growling but you hold him back.
"Robb, stop." You plead. "It was an accident."
"Like hell it is! I saw him!"
"Robb! Stop!" You clench his suit and he looks at you. You were shaking. "It's not worth it." You push him gently. "I'm not worth it." He glares at Jaime as he guides you.
"This is not over, Lannister." Jaime just smiles as you and Robb leave. He escorts you to your car and gets inside.
"What- your car?"
"I can just get it later. Hop inside." You sit inside the passenger side and sigh. You look at the gala and don't even see Daenerys. She didn't even follow to make sure you were okay. Robb drives away and you take off your jacket.
"Why the fuck did you stop me? That asshole deserves a punch."
"And Father will get angry at you?" He flinches at that and you sigh. "It's not worth it."
"But he pushed you!"
"Robb. Stop. I'm begging you." You get a towel from the bag inside your car and dry yourself with it. "Who was the woman you were talking to?"
"Oh. You saw me?" You hum as you get your phone.
"Yeah."
"Her name's Talisa. She's a doctor."
"Talisa what?"
"Maegyr. She's from Volantis."
"Ah. She's far from home."
"She is. She said Westeros had the best school for medicine so."
"She came here. And she stayed? Is she okay?" Robb laughs at that.
"She said she really liked the place." You chuckle.
"But not the people, huh?"
"No." You both laugh.
-
You wake up in your own apartment and pajamas. After you got home was all a blur. You look around and there was a note from Robb.
Text me when you wake up.
You get your phone and see that it's Sunday. Good. No classes.
You groan and stand from your bed. You get your phone and text a quick 'I'm fine' to Robb. You get ready for the day.
As you finish up your shower, you get a text.
It was Daenerys.
Dani : Are you okay? I'm sorry that I couldn't check up last night. Everyone asked me about us.
You : And? What did they ask about?
Dani : Mostly why I was with you.
You : What did you say?
Dani : That it was a secret. This is just a soft launch after all. We need to keep them in suspense.
You : Got you.
Dani : That Lannister talked to me too.
You : What?
Dani : He said that you are hanging out with his brother which is how he knew you.
You : Ah. Yeah. Tyrion. He's a friend.
Dani : Do you like Tyrion?
You raise an eyebrow at her text.
You : What are you talking about?
Dani : He insinuated that the both of you were "special friends".
You : Special because I'm the rare omega and Tyrion's the rare dwarf. I'm gay, Daenerys.
Dani : Oh. Good to know.
You hum as you put down your phone and get yourself some coffee.
-
You were just lazing around and watching some TV when Jon barges in and looks at you.
"Y/N!" He shouts then hugs you. You push him away and glare at him.
"Personal space, asshole!"
"The date went great!" He ignores your complain. "She was so pretty and cute! We're a match made in heaven!" You glare at him.
"And? Why are you telling me this instead of, I don't know, mating with her?" He blushes and you laugh at him. "Jon Stark! You're a grown ass man! Is the idea of mating with to-" He throws a pillow to your face cuts you off, it was a good thing that you had fast reflexes and you block it with your hand.
"Stop saying that!" You laugh at his blush.
"Seriously? Mating is nothing to be ashamed of, Jon."
"I know that! But I- I-" He groans as he sits besides you.
"You what? Never saw yourself doing it?"
"Technically?" You hum and stand from the couch, you get inside your room and after a few minutes, you come back out with several books in your arms. You settle the books on the coffee table.
"Read up." Jon takes the first book and reads it's title.
'Sex for Dummies.'
"What the fuck?" Despite saying that, he still opens it and reads.
"Planned on giving these to Sansa. Then Arya, and the boys."
"Why?"
"Better me than Father." Jon looks blankly at you.
"Right." He stands from the couch and scoops up the books. "How long can I borrow these for?"
"Two weeks max. Sansa is going to find out her second gender tomorrow."
"What do you think it will be?" You shrug.
"I hope she'll be a beta." Jon nods in agreement and leaves your apartment. You sigh. "I really hope she is."
-
A/N:
Thank you for reading!
Message me if you want to be on the taglist!
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shares-a-vest · 5 months
Text
Prompt: Bringing someone home (Discord Drabble) @bowtieandflannel I fear I have a resurging case of Clarkson brainrot. Also yeah, sorry to the stwg but this is once again probably not a drabble.
Eddie shuffles into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and needing a caffeine hit (or three). He blinks hard and rubs his eyes, vision clearing enough to see a figure standing at the stove. His mouth waters at the smell of bacon, praying that his uncle has save him some.
"Hey, Wa-ay – AHHHH!"
He screams and claps a hand over his mouth at the sight of Scott Clarke, funky bowtie-wearing middle school teacher and all-around dork of a science nerd, standing in his kitchen making breakfast.
"Oh, gosh!" Scott says, dropping the egg slider in the pan as he jumps back and clutches his chest, "Wayne said you weren't home!"
"I am," he takes a moment to frown before going back to gawking to the point his eyes might fall out onto the cracked linoleum.
"He's um..." Scott looks out the front window.
"I need to..." Eddie thumbs to the door.
"Yeah!" Scott agrees with great enthusiasm.
Eddie whips around at break-neck speed to fling open the front door and the accompanying fly screen, thoroughly testing the hinges. He's sure he will receive a scalding from Wayne soon enough.
He braces himself, perhaps not nearly as much as he typically would because Scott cries out, "Oh golly, the toast!" as the fly screen smashes shut again, the metal frame rattling away.
"Oh, shit!" Wayne cusses, looking uncharacteristically spooked as they make eye contact.
See, it's things like this that are bolstering Eddie's growing assertion that Scott Clarke should one-thousand percent not be cooking in their kitchen in a pair of boxer shorts and one of his uncle's flannels, saying things like "gosh" and "golly".
Wayne meanwhile, looks as shocked as he oughta be, sitting on the edge of the second-hand couch they have out on the porch.
Eddie opens his mouth to speak but again, he has nothing.
"Boy," Wayne says, stern with a warning finger, "Don't you start!"
"Why is Scott Clarke in our kitchen!" he shrieks, promptly smacking his mouth shut when his uncle shushes him.
"You told me you wouldn't be home."
"I wasn't. But then... Steve... work... eh!"
He gives up on the whole speaking words thing and pinches his nose. Maybe if he applies enough pressure, his brain will explode and he won't have to think about his uncle waiting on bated breath for him to leave the house, giving him the all-clear to bring a goddamn date home.
A date...
He winces.
"Darn it, Eddie!" Wayne says as he rubs at the back of his neck, "I guess I should'a told ya. This whole thing is..."
He stops and nods, grumbling as he looks down at his worn grandpa-like slippers. Eddie's heart sinks. That's the same look he's seen on his uncle's face many times. And each and every time that look has had something to do with Wayne feeling like he screwed up as Eddie's parental figure.
"I just need..." he struggles.
"Time to think it all over?" Wayne asks.
He nods meekly, flopping down to sit with his uncle. Wayne pats him on the knee, neither of them saying anymore.
That is until the fly screen squeaks and they both look up to find Scott fully dressed and gesturing inside.
"Uh..." he hums and Eddie looks down, forgiving of his awkwardness - he feels like an asshole, now, "Breakfast is ready."
He hums to himself and looks towards Wayne's truck.
But Wayne stands and steps towards him.
"You're staying," he insists before turning back to Eddie, "And you're coming inside too."
"Can I um..." he really does feel like a goddamn kid again, "Can I eat in my room? I, uh... I just need to think about things."
"Thought is essential to our growth as human beings," Scott muses.
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