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rootedinrevisions · 3 days ago

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Worth the Effort

Summary: On their first Valentine’s Day together, Glen goes above and beyond to show his love in a way that proves just how much the reader means to him.

Warnings: None! Just pure fluff and good vibes.

Word Count: 4.3k

Author’s Note: Thank you to the Anon who sent in this request! This one was fun to write with the holiday coming up! Also put a little bit of myself in this one as I've never really had a partner put effort into Valentine's Day. So it was fun to brainstorm what someone would do to make Valentine’s Day special!

A Few Days Before Valentine's Day

The phone rings just as you’re settling onto the couch for the evening, the glow of the lamp next to you casting soft shadows against the walls of the living room. You glance at the screen, and the second you see Glen’s name your heart gives an involuntary flutter.

“Hey, babe,” you say, leaning back against the cushions. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping? Isn’t it like…two in the morning over there?”

There’s a chuckle on the other end, warm and familiar. “Nah, we wrapped late, and I couldn’t sleep without hearing your voice first.”

Your stomach tightens. He always knows what to say.

“Well, I’m honored,” you murmur, smiling despite yourself. “How’s London treating you?”

Glen sighs, and you can almost picture him. He’s probably stretched out in some ridiculously nice hotel room, one arm behind his head, hair tousled from a long day on set.

“It’s good. Cold as hell, though.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You poor thing.”

“I know, right?” he says, voice dripping with mock suffering. “I need to get back to Texas.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, drama queen.”

There’s a pause just long enough for you to hear the subtle shift in his tone when he speaks again. “Speaking of me coming back,” Glen starts, “don’t make any plans for Friday.”

Your brows pull together in confusion. “Friday?” You blink, glancing at the calendar on your nightstand. “What’s Friday?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“You’re messing with me,” Glen says flatly.

You tilt your head. “I’m… not?”

“Babe.” His voice dips, both amused and exasperated. “Friday is Valentine’s Day.”

Your stomach clenches. Your fingers tighten slightly around the phone, but you force a casual laugh.

“Right,” you say quickly. “Well, you don’t have to worry about coming home for just that. It’s just a stupid holiday.”

You’re met with silence. Not a long one, just a couple of seconds that are barely noticeable, but you hear it. And knowing Glen, he’s probably hearing everything you’re not saying.

He exhales softly. “C’mon, don’t be like that.”

You shrug, even though he can’t see you. “I’m serious. You don’t have to come all the way back just for some commercialized excuse to buy me chocolates and overpriced roses.”

His voice is softer now. “You really think I’d let our first Valentine’s Day together be just another day?”

You don’t know how to explain what’s going through your head, at least not without sounding pathetic. But the truth is, the only other serious relationship you’ve ever had was with someone who hated Valentine’s Day. He called it pointless. Overrated. He never bought you flowers. Never made plans. Never did anything. And eventually, you just learned to stop expecting it.

Glen, though? Glen isn’t like that.

Still you shake your head, keeping your voice light. “I don’t know. I think you’re underestimating my ability to spend the night in pajamas bingeing bad reality TV.”

There’s a chuckle, but it’s quieter this time. Then, his voice turns gravelly, lower than before. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs, “I already have something planned.”

Your breath catches. “You—”

“I’ll be home Friday,” he promises. “And once I get home I’m all yours.”

* * * * *

Valentine’s Day - Morning

Soft morning light spills through your curtains painting yours and Glen’s bedroom in soft golden hues. You shift under the covers stretching lazily, the quiet hum of the world outside lulling you back into a light doze. For once you don’t have to rush. No work. No emails. No meetings. You took the whole day off not for Valentine’s Day, of course. Just…because. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

The faint sound of the front door unlocking downstairs barely registers in your half asleep state. Your mind lingers somewhere between dreamland and consciousness until a familiar voice cuts through the silence.

“Babe?”

Your eyes flutter open. There’s a brief second where your brain doesn’t quite catch up. Because Glen is in London. He’s supposed to be thousands of miles away.

But then a slow grin spreads across your face as you remember his promise. Pushing the covers off, you scramble out of bed and run toward the living room.

The second you turn the corner, there he is. Glen. Standing in your doorway, looking completely and devastatingly like home. His hair is tousled from travel, and his jacket is slung casually over one arm. But it’s the expression on his face that makes your breath hitch. That stupid heart melting smile.

“Hey beautiful,” he says, voice rich with amusement.

You don’t even think. You just launch yourself into his arms. Glen catches you easily, like he’s been waiting for it. One of his arms wraps around you, strong and warm, holding you just tight enough to make your heart squeeze.

“You’re here,” you mumble against his shoulder.

His laugh rumbles through his chest. “Told you I would be.”

You pull back just enough to look at him, your hands sliding to cup his face. He’s slightly scruffy, his jaw rough with the shadow of a beard like he hadn’t bothered to shave before hopping on a plane.

Your fingers brush over the stubble, and Glen just smirks.

“You checking if I’m real?” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “I’m debating if I should kill you for not telling me when your flight was landing. I would’ve picked you up.”

He chuckles, but before you can say anything else he pulls something from behind his back. A bouquet of roses. Deep red, vibrant, freshly wrapped with ribbon.

Your lips part, but for a second, nothing comes out.

Because this has never happened to you before. No one has ever shown up with flowers. No one has ever gone out of their way to make you feel like you’re worth the effort.

Glen watches you carefully, his gaze softer now. “You okay?”

You swallow, nodding as you take the bouquet from him. The petals are velvety under your fingertips, the scent delicate and sweet.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

He tilts his head. “I know.” Then leaning in he presses a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. “But I wanted to.”

Your chest tightens. Because for the first time ever Valentine’s Day doesn’t feel like some stupid, commercialized holiday.

It just feels like him.

Glen leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching as you tuck the roses into a vase. “So,” he says casually, “what time do you have to be at the office?”

You hesitate for half a second before replying, “I actually took the day off.”

Glen raises a brow, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “Did you now?”

You shoot him a look already knowing where this is going. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna.” He steps closer, tilting his head. “Did you take today off to avoid your office turning into a Valentine’s Day war zone?”

You sigh dramatically. “It’s not a war zone. It’s just…” You gesture vaguely. “Okay maybe it is kind of like a war zone.”

Glen chuckles. “So you’re telling me that right now, at this very moment, the entire office is split into two camps. One group gushing over their gifts, the other dramatically swearing off love forever.”

You snort. “Pretty much.”

He grins. “And you just…opted out?”

“I didn’t opt out,” you argue, crossing your arms. “I just thought, you know, a personal day sounded nice.”

Glen hums, unconvinced. “Mhm. Just a total coincidence that you took off work on Valentine’s Day?”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, actually.”

“Uh-huh.” He steps forward, hands slipping around your waist as he leans in. His voice drops, warm and teasing against your ear. “Admit it. You were worried I wouldn’t come back.”

Your stomach flips, but you try to keep your expression neutral. “You are so full of yourself. Not everything is about you, you know?”

He laughs, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your neck before pulling back. “Maybe.”

Moving effortlessly around your kitchen, Glen grabs a frying pan and starts pulling things from the fridge.

You frown. “Are you…cooking?”

He raises a brow. “What, you think just because I’m a pretty face I can’t make breakfast?”

You smirk, hopping up onto the counter. “I think I’ve seen you burn toast before.”

He points a spatula at you. “That was one time. And I was distracted.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “By what?”

Glen grins. “You, probably.”

Your cheeks warm, but you shake your head laughing as Glen effortlessly takes over the kitchen.

The rest of the morning is easy. Pancakes, fresh fruit, coffee. You sit cross legged on the couch while Glen flips through the channels, landing on an old movie you’ve both seen a dozen times.

The world outside drifts by, but here in this little pocket of time, everything feels calm.

Because it’s not about the holiday. It’s just about being with him.

Later That Afternoon

You’re curled up on the couch, half asleep, when Glen nudges your foot.

“Hey,” he says, stretching. “We should probably get ready soon.”

You frown, peeking one eye open. “For what?”

He smirks. “C’mon. I’ve got plans for us.”

You hesitate, eyeing him suspiciously. “What kind of plans?”

His lips twitch. “The kind where you should wear something nice.”

Your stomach flips. Because Glen Powell does not do basic.

Which means whatever he’s got planned…it’s something big.

You stand in the middle of the walk-in closet, hands on your hips, staring at the rows of clothes as if they might magically assemble themselves into the perfect outfit.

Something nice. That’s what Glen had said. But what does that even mean? Does he mean nice boots and jeans? Like Texas casual nice? Or does he mean nice dinner nice?

You sigh pulling out a dress, then immediately putting it back. You check your phone like maybe Glen has sent some kind of clarification, but no. Just a winking emoji in response to your earlier “Where are we going?” text.

So helpful.

Just as you’re debating whether you should just put on leggings and hope for the best, you hear footsteps behind you.

“You’re overthinking.”

You turn to see Glen leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, grinning like he’s caught you doing something embarrassing.

“I am not overthinking,” you say even though, okay, maybe you are.

Glen pushes off the doorframe and steps inside, his gaze flicking from the half-unzipped dress in your hand to the growing pile of discarded outfits on the bench. “You’re standing in the middle of the closet looking like you’re solving a murder,” he teases.

You huff. “That’s because you were vague.” You gesture toward him. “What does something nice even mean? You’re wearing jeans!”

He glances down at his outfit—jeans and a crisp button up, the sleeves rolled up in a way that does unfair things to his forearms. “Yeah. Because I know where we’re going.”

“That’s not helpful.”

He laughs, stepping closer. “Here.” He slides past you, reaching into your side of the closet like he’s done it a hundred times before. He pulls out a sundress. It’s one of your favorites. Light, comfortable, effortless. The kind of thing that works for a casual dinner or something a little special.

He holds it up. “This one.”

You take it, raising an eyebrow. “You picked that fast.”

He shrugs. “I like this one on you.”

Something about the way he says it is so easy and certain. It sends warmth curling through your chest. You glance at him, suddenly aware of the way he’s watching you, like he already knows you’re going to listen to him.

“Alright,” you say, fighting a smile. “But if I’m overdressed, I’m blaming you.”

Glen grins. “That’s fair.” He leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

You smooth your hands over the dress as you step out of the bedroom, your heels clicking lightly against the hardwood as you make your way down the stairs. There’s a hint of nerves buzzing in your chest. Not because you’re unsure about the date, but because Glen has a way of making everything feel like it means more.

As you reach the last step, you spot him near the front door, messing with his watch. He must hear you approaching because he glances up. And freezes.

His fingers pause, his whole body going still as he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You recognize that look. It’s the one he gave you the first time you ever dressed up for an event together. The one he gets when you’re wearing something that knocks the breath out of him.

His lips part slightly, his brows lifting just enough to be noticeable. His eyes take a slow appreciative once over, lingering on the soft fabric of your dress, the way it falls just right, the way it hugs your curves without even trying.

“See something you like?” you tease, one eyebrow quirking as you reach the bottom step.

Glen blinks like you just snapped him out of a trance. Then that easy, borderline cocky grin of his slides into place. “I always do,” he says smoothly, stepping toward you. “But damn, sweetheart.” His voice dips lower warm and teasing. “You really outdid yourself tonight.”

You roll your eyes fighting back a smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning.” He closes the space between you, reaching for your hand. His fingers slide against yours, warm and steady. “If I didn’t already have a whole plan for tonight, I’d be seriously reconsidering leaving this house.”

Your face warms at his words, but you shake your head with a laugh. “Well, now I definitely need to know what this plan is.”

He smirks, giving your hand a quick squeeze before leading you toward the door. “Oh, trust me, sweetheart.” He opens the door, gesturing for you to step outside. “You’re gonna love it.”

As you step outside the cool evening air wraps around you, carrying the scent of fresh grass and the lingering warmth of the Texas sun. Glen’s hand is warm in yours as he leads you toward the garage where his truck and SUV sit side by side. Your car is parked in the third spot.

You glance between his truck and the SUV, expecting him to open the door to one of the vehicles. Maybe he’s planned a nice dinner in town or some kind of fancy event. But instead of going for the truck Glen veers to the side…toward the Gator ATV.

You stop short. “Uh… did you forget we’re dressed nicely?” You gesture between the two of you, your dress swaying slightly with the motion. “Because I don’t think this outfit is exactly ATV appropriate.”

Glen just grins, already pulling open the driver’s side. “You trust me, don’t you?”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “Should I?”

He leans against the roll cage, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I did put in all this effort to plan something special for you.” He tilts his head toward the passenger seat. “So, what do you say? You gonna climb in and find out, or are you gonna stand there and keep looking pretty?”

You bite your lip, giving the Gator a once over. It’s not what you expected, but with Glen the unexpected is usually the best part. With a small sigh you step forward, gathering your dress slightly as you climb into the seat.

Glen smirks as he watches. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

“I swear, if you send me flying—”

“Sweetheart.” He places a hand over his heart. “I would never let anything happen to you.” Then with a wink he turns the key, and the engine rumbles to life beneath you.

As he pulls out of the garage, the headlights cut through the dusky sky, and the excitement in your chest starts to build. You still don’t know where he’s taking you, but you can already tell whatever it is, it’s going to be unforgettable.

The ride is short, but the anticipation builds with every bump and turn down the dirt path. The air is crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of wild grass and the faintest hint of cedar. The last bit of golden sunlight lingers on the horizon, casting everything in a warm glow.

As Glen slows the ATV to a stop, you finally see it—a clearing in the middle of his land, wide and open, with a sky that seems to stretch forever. And right in the center of it all, a blanket is spread out, a carefully packed picnic basket resting on top, along with a small lantern glowing softly in the evening light.

“You did all this?” you ask softly, turning to Glen as he kills the engine.

He grins, already stepping out of the ATV and moving to your side. “Told you I had something special planned.” He reaches for your hand, helping you down with that effortless, gentlemanly ease that always makes your heart race.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you kick off your shoes, the cool grass tickling your bare skin. Glen watches with amusement. “Getting comfortable already?”

“You expect me to sit on a picnic blanket in heels?” you tease.

He chuckles, slipping his arm around your waist as he guides you toward the setup. “Fair enough.”

Once you reach the blanket Glen lets go of you just long enough to sit down first. Then with that easy, confident charm, he reaches out offering his hand to you.

You place your hand in his letting him help you down, and as soon as you’re settled, he stays close. One arm propped behind you for support, his body warm and solid beside yours.

“This…” You take another glance around, your heart swelling at the effort he’s put into all of this. “This is amazing, Glen.”

His gaze softens, a small smile playing on his lips. “You deserve it.”

And just like that the tension in your chest, the years of past Valentine’s Days that were ignored or dismissed fades into something warm and weightless.

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the way your emotions threaten to creep up, but Glen must notice because he reaches up, brushing his thumb gently against your cheek.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “none of that. No sad thoughts tonight.”

You exhale a small laugh. “I’m not sad,” you admit. “I just…I think this is the first time Valentine’s Day has actually felt like something special.”

His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face toward his. His voice is soft, steady. “That’s because you’re special.”

And before you can argue, before you can brush it off, he leans in, pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips, sealing the moment in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

Glen reaches into the picnic basket, a playful smirk on his face as he starts unpacking the meal he’s carefully put together. There’s fresh fruit, a variety of cheeses, slices of warm bread wrapped in a cloth, and a thermos that smells suspiciously like homemade soup.

You raise a brow. “You went all out for this.”

He grins as he pops open a container, revealing chocolate-covered strawberries. “Told you I had a plan.”

As you both start eating, the atmosphere settles into something warm and intimate. The sky deepens into a soft indigo, stars beginning to peek through, and the lantern beside you casts a cozy glow over the blanket.

At one point, Glen picks up a piece of cheese, holding it out toward you with an exaggerated look of expectation. “Open up, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes but lean in anyway, taking the bite from his fingers. His smirk widens. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

You swallow, shaking your head at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.”

You snort. “That’s still up for debate.”

Glen gasps dramatically, clutching his chest as if wounded. “Damn. And here I thought I was winning you over.”

“You’re gonna have to work a little harder than feeding me cheese,” you tease.

He leans in, voice dropping just a little. “Noted.”

Your stomach flutters, but before you can react, Glen reaches back into the basket, pulling something out and setting it in front of you with a little flourish.

“Speaking of working harder,” he says, “here’s your real Valentine’s Day present.”

You blink, looking down at the small, wrapped box in front of you. Your heart stutters. “Glen…”

“No arguing,” he warns, nudging it toward you. “Just open it.”

Your fingers hesitate for a moment before you carefully peel back the wrapping. Inside, nestled in a velvet box, is a delicate bracelet—simple but elegant, with a small charm that catches the lantern light.

You recognize it instantly.

The charm is in the shape of Texas, and etched into it, so small you almost miss it, are the coordinates of Glen’s ranch.

Your breath catches.

“So you always have a piece of home with you,” he murmurs, watching your reaction closely.

A lump rises in your throat as you run your fingers over the charm, heart swelling at the thought behind it.

You glance up at Glen, eyes shining. “I—”

But the words don’t come.

Instead, you reach for him, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss that’s soft and slow, filled with everything you’re feeling but can’t quite put into words.

You swallow the lump in your throat and whisper, “I love you.”

Glen smiles, pressing a kiss to your nose before pulling you into his arms. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

The sky is painted in soft hues of orange and pink, the last remnants of daylight sinking beyond the horizon. The warmth of the setting sun lingers on your skin, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth radiating from Glen as you lean back against his chest. His arms are wrapped loosely around your waist, fingers idly tracing patterns along your forearm.

You sigh contentedly, tilting your head slightly to look up at him. “This was perfect.”

Glen hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

For a while neither of you speak. You just sit there tangled up in each other watching the sun disappear. There’s a peacefulness in the quiet moments between you, in the way Glen’s breath moves steadily against your back, in the way his fingers never stop their gentle absentminded movements against your skin.

And then, as the last bit of daylight fades, Glen shifts behind you. “C’mon,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before gently pulling away and standing up.

You blink, watching as he makes his way over to the Gator. “Where are you going?”

Glen doesn’t answer. At least not right away. Instead he reaches into the vehicle, flicks on the headlights, and suddenly the entire field is bathed in a warm golden glow. Then from the glove compartment he pulls out a small Bluetooth speaker.

Your heart stutters as he powers it on and scrolls through his phone for a moment before a familiar melody starts playing.

You recognize it instantly. It’s the first song you and Glen ever slow danced to on the first date.

Your breath catches as he turns back to you, the softest smile tugging at his lips. He makes his way over, holding his hand out. “Dance with me?”

You don’t hesitate. Slipping your hand into his, you let him pull you up and guide you into the middle of the makeshift dance floor. The headlights cast a dreamy glow, the stars begin to dot the inky sky above, and the music wraps around you like a warm embrace.

Glen’s hands find your waist, drawing you in close as he sways you to the music. You rest your arms around his neck, your fingers playing idly with the hair at the nape of his neck.

For a moment, you just move together, slow and easy, as if the rest of the world has faded away.

“You remember this?” Glen murmurs, his lips close to your ear.

You nod against his shoulder. “Of course, I do.”

“I do too.” He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “I remember thinking that night that I’d do anything to get the chance to dance with you again..”

Your breath shudders, emotion tightening in your chest. “Glen—”

But he doesn’t let you finish. Instead he dips his head and kisses you slow and deep, like he’s got all the time in the world. And maybe he does.

The music plays on, the soft melody weaving between the night sounds of crickets and the occasional rustle of the breeze through the grass. Glen holds you close, his warmth wrapped around you like a second skin, his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek.

Neither of you speak, but words aren’t necessary. Everything you need to say is in the way he holds you, in the way he sways with you, in the way his fingers trace gentle patterns along your spine.

As the song nears its end, Glen presses his lips to your temple, lingering there for a long moment before whispering, “You get it now, don’t you?”

You blink up at him. “Get what?”

He smiles, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “That you deserve this. That you’re worth the effort.” His thumb skims over your cheek. “And that I’d fly across the world a hundred times over just to spend a day loving you.”

The words steal the breath right out of your lungs. Emotion swells in your chest, tightening your throat, burning behind your eyes.

You shake your head, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you whisper, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Glen chuckles, tucking you against his chest once more. “Then I guess I’m doing something right.”

And so, you stay there—wrapped up in his arms, slow dancing beneath the stars, as the music fades and the world around you stands still.

Just you and him.

Exactly where you’re meant to be.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x reader #Glen Powell x you #Soft!GlenPowell

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mommysorryshizun · 2 days ago

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Shen Yuan, 22, starts playing Proud Immortal Demon Way, a well-known Otome game, and gets insanely frustrated at the fickle point system, coding errors, and totally unbelievable dialogue! He absolutely trashes the game across all platforms - from Twitter to Reddit, there's no one who is a more dedicated hater than he is! His ratios on all platforms are not exactly in his favour... At the root of it all lies his hatred of Otome games in general - Shen Yuan hates being unable to say what he truly means.

Then one day… he bumps into Luo Binghe irl. Literally. In Liu Qingge’s pretentious uptown coffee shop of all places- face planting right between the man’s tits while he’s distracted by harassing someone on Twitter - oh my god, what kind of bad cliche is this??!?!?!!! At first, he’s so shocked he can’t even speak to apologise, staring dumbly at the fucking Adonis in front of him. When he finds his voice again, he squeaks out an embarrassing “sorry!” before scuttling off, right out the cafe door from whence he came. And without his coffee! The stranger didn’t even look that much like Luo Binghe from the game! Right……?

It doesn’t seem to matter… until he arrives at work to find fucking MOBEI-JUN!!! THE GUEST EXECUTIVE FROM THE COMPANY’S MAIN BRANCH!!!! Shen Yuan stares at him for an embarrassing amount of time, to the point that Mobei-Jun raises his eyebrow in question, before gesturing to the seat beside him. Shen Yuan…………... IS GONNA DIE!!!!!! Men can’t… they can't be allowed to sit like that! It should not be allowed! It's not like Mobei-Jun is really doing anything special, one ankle resting up on his knee, legs spread wide open and… SHEN YUAN PREFERS TO USE HIS IMAGINATION!!! THANK YOU!!!! At least his imagination isn’t so dangerous for his heart…

Shen Yuan can explain away many things, including not-Luo Binghe’s appearance at the coffee shop and Mobei-Jun being. Entirely Mobei-Jun, name, and all. But when it happens a third time!!!!! Shen Yuan becomes convinced he’s cursed. Yue Qingyuan might be the whiniest, most tragic character in the game but god he is so tall, his shoulders are so broad, and his smile- This is not allowed. Shen Yuan is sure there has to be some kind of karmic law against this. He’s been cursed, oh my god, he’s totally been cursed. Coffee shop not-Binghe, workbei-Jun, and now new neighbour Qingyuan. NO ONE’S BEEN IN THAT APARTMENT IN DECADES!!! WHY NOW!!! WHY SHEN YUAN??????

It only gets worse from there.

Mobei-Jun might not give a flying FUCK about Shen Yuan, his sole focus remaining on Shen Yuan’s insufferable colleague, Shang Qinghua, but that doesn’t stop Shen Yuan from getting almost-boners every time the man scoots behind his chair to go to the bathroom during long meetings, or stares at him with interest when he presents a PowerPoint manifestation of the ideas he had at 3am. And Yue Qingyuan might definitely be trying to get in Shen Yuan’s pants and Shen Yuan knows as soon as he unlocks this man’s backstory his life will be ruined but that doesn’t exactly mean he’s avoiding the free food and company he offers.

The only person he hasn’t seen recently is not-Luo Binghe… which is good! Luo Binghe hates Shen Yuan in PIDW, who’s to say real life won’t be the same? Shen Yuan prefers to be an asshole through the screen, not in real life where the risk of a man who you could fit two liquidised Shen Yuan’s into punching him in the face is very very real. This lack of meeting might also be because Shen Yuan hasn’t gone back to Qingge’s coffee place for two weeks. The man (friend???) in question, a coffee connoisseur (apparently) may or may not be threatening his life for skipping his morning stop for so long.

Unfortunately, Shen Qingqiu is stupid, so after those two weeks he assumes the coast is clear and it’s safe to return. It is not. Sat out the front, Luo Binghe is just as tall and unfairly beautiful as last time Shen Yuan had the misfortune of bumping into him. And nope, no, Shen Yuan was wrong this guy and Luo Binghe are fucking identical save for the sweet smile plastered across real-Luo Binghe’s face. As if he could get more attractive. THIS IS SO TWISTED. In another fit of brightness, Shen Yuan pretends not to notice him. Orders his coffee as per usual. He’s almost made it to the end of his order before Luo Binghe goes and ruins everything.

“I’ll pay for it,” Binghe announces cheerily, reaching over Shen Yuan’s shoulder with a credit card. Daddy’s money no doubt. What was his aggravatingly wealthy father's name in-game? Ugh, asshole. Shen Yuan splutters some kind of refusal, but Binghe just hums pleasantly. “You forgot yours last time. They were calling… cucumber for a long time…”

Shen Yuan just needs to go home and kill himself. Right now. He considers scurrying away again, but bracketed between Binghe’s massive arms and the till he just mumbled out a miserable “thank you,” and resigns himself to fate. Luo Binghe finishes his order for him. It’s kind of creepy. Which makes it hot. This definitely doesn't say anything about Shen Yuan sexually or developmentally. Shen Yuan ah, Shen Yuan. At least he rests easy in the fact that real-Binghe is definitely not coming onto him. After all, in PIDW the man doesn't really hate Shen Yuan for Shen Yuan, but for his female persona.

They both wait for his coffee in a corner, Luo Binghe standing so close to him their forearms are almost touching. Shen Yuan regrets wearing a short-sleeve dress shirt today. He regrets being alive at all, actually. He would reach for his jacket but that would mean their arms definitely would touch and he would rather tie himself to a pyre and light the match with his teeth.

“Cucumber?” the server says, unsure. Clearly new. Awesome. Shen Qingqiu now needs to gain back twice the karmic points he lost telling anyone other than Liu Qingge about that stupid fucking pseud. Luo Binghe follows him like a puppy out of the coffee shop. Shen Qingqiu coughs awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he says again. Luo Binghe cocks his head. Like a fucking dog!!! If he knew Luo Binghe was so cute maybe he’d give him a chance in-game… Shen Qingqiu barely avoids smacking himself in the face to tamp down the heat rising in his cheeks.

“You’re welcome… cucumber?”

“Shen Yuan,” Shen Yuan offers his real name with a huff.

“Luo Binghe,” Luo Binghe responds, beaming.

“I know.” Ah. Shen Yuan. You really can’t help yourself, can you?

Luo Binghe cocks his head the other way.

“Bye,” Shen Yuan waves stiffly before breaking into a full-out sprint down the sidewalk. FUCK! FUCK! NEVER EVER EVER GOING BACK TO THAT COFFEE SHOP! SORRY LIU QINGGE!!!!!!

#I'll take one chapter of edging thank you very much #svsss #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #shang qinghua #mobei jun #liu qingge #yue qingyuan #bingqiu

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flippinpancakes64 · 2 days ago

Note

How would the cullens (separately) react to a really flirtatious reader. Like where reader makes flirtatious jokes and comments about them all the time and how they would react to the reader doing that in front of other people?

The Cullens with a flirty! Reader

Am I back in my Twilight phase? Who knows. Only time will tell.

Happy Valentines Day everyone!

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He can hear them before you speak

And if he could blush, he would

He’s one of the more traditional people, probably the most stuck in his ways out of all of them

All that to say he goes crazy over an ankle showing

Any comments you make about him have him (mentally) blushing and telling you to stop

Now don’t get me wrong, he can dish it out too

But only in private

The moment he hears you formulating a flirty thought in your brain, his hand is covering your mouth

You rarely ever get the jump on him

He might let you speak your mind in private

But you can already forget about saying anything with others around

Alice:

She would beat you to it every single time

She’s the flirty type

Y’all match each other’s freaks

You two have had compliment wars where you guys just go back and forth flirting

She loves it though

Every compliment, every innuendo, makes her fall deeper in love with you

And if you go out of your way to flirt with her in public, she goes feral

She loves being loved and you are more than happy to do that for her

Also you can’t embarrass her

You’re talking about how sexy she looks in that dress in front of a group of classmates?

She doesn’t care

She’ll retort back about how she can’t wait to get you back home later

When they go low I go lower type beat

Jasper:

Bro is a Casanova

Absolute sweet talker

But only in private

The moment you try to flirt with him outside of the confines of your or his rooms, he’s out of his element

Again, if vampires could blush, his face would be bright red

He always gets mildly annoyed when you say insinuating stuff in public

Not actually annoyed but more of like a

“Come on, really? Now? Here?”

The truth is that he loves the attention

Just maybe not outside of the bedroom

Rosalie:

She can def take it and dish it out

If you two are together, she is your ride or die

And she wants everyone to know

She’s not shy about flirting with you in public

And she never says no to you flirting with her

She welcomes it, actually

She loves the idea of fully being someone’s

Of her partner not being afraid to show her off and publicly admit how much they love her

Some would call it vanity

Or ego

But she calls it love

Emmett:

Oh sweet Emmett

He loves it

No ifs ands or buts

He feels like he’s on cloud nine when you flirt with him

And trust me, whatever you’ve got to say, he has much worse

I think he has a dirty mind

Definitely similar to Alice in the if you go low I go lower department

You’re out with friends and you make a flirty comment?

He’s going to go on a whole rant about how much he loves *insert specific body part of yours*

So yeah he basically has no shame

Say what you want

Just be prepared to be outdone

Esme:

I feel like she’s similar to Edward in this department

She loves the flirty compliments in private

But she gets all flustered in public

Cause wdym you’re at the store with her and now you’re talking about melons??

She’s gonna leave you behind to find your own way back

She gets embarrassed in private too

But it’s not as bad as in public

At least in private yall are left to yourselves

(Save for Edward unwillingly eavesdropping)

Definitely the type to smack you playfully

“Babe are you from tennessee? Cause I’m tryin-to-see them titti-“

*Smack* “Not another word.”

Carlisle:

He thinks it’s funny

He doesn’t really take it too seriously

You like his man boobs?

That’s nice sweetie

Very pacifistic about it

Doesn’t care if you’re in public or private

He loves you and your antics either way

The only time I could really see him caring would be if you came to visit him at work

As long as he’s wearing his coat, he needs to be professional

So that’s where he draws the line

Vampire! Bella:

I get mixed feelings about her

I can’t decide if she would love it or absolutely hate it

On the one hand, she would definitely love the silly jokes and all the attention

She has lower self esteem, and being able to know for sure that your partner finds you desirable is a great thing

On the other hand

Whenever you flirt with her in public she feels like she’s gonna die

She knows it doesn’t really matter

She’s a Cullen now

But she’ll be damned if that little anxious voice in the back of her head isn’t still there

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staytinyweeniebeanie · 2 days ago

Text

Valentine’s Day with Ateez 💘

Pairings: bf!Ateez x fem!reader and crush!Ateez x fem!reader

Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Love Confessions

Warning(s): some explicit language, tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: How you celebrate Valentine’s Day with the members of Ateez; a mix of boyfriend and crush scenarios!

A/N: I can’t believe I squeaked this out in time for Valentine’s Day (at least by US time zones lol). Did you know that in South Korea, the Valentine’s day tradition is for women to gift men chocolate as a sign of their affections or to confess their love? Happy reading 😘

My masterlist 💕

Jongho

You met Jongho through a mutual friend

The attraction was definitely there from the start, but you were hesitant to approach him due to his idol status, and he was he nervous and quiet whenever you were around

After a few months of slowly warming up to each other, you and Jongho become good friends (if you look past the hopeless pining)

Sick of watching the two of you circle around each other at gatherings, your friend forces you to confront your feelings and convinces you to make a move…

You fiddled with a napkin nervously while waiting at a booth in a secluded corner of your favorite cafe for Jongho to arrive. You had texted him the day before, asking to meet for coffee. Nothing out of the ordinary for your budding friendship.

But this time is different.

This time, you have a small gift bag on the seat next to you containing a little bear made of chocolate, and a stomach full of butterflies.

Maybe this is a bad idea and my friend has it all wrong… you think to yourself, considering tossing the gift and pretending it never existed in the first place. But just then you spot Jongho walking through the door, and you make eye contact. He’s wearing a mask, but you can tell from the crinkle in his eyes that he’s smiling. Damn, I am down so bad for him you realize.

“Hey Y/n, it’s good to see you,” Jongho says sweetly and slides into the booth across from you.

You return his hello and pleasantries before you hesitantly reach for the gift bag. “So Jongho, I’m sure you know what day it is today and I… I have something for you,” you anxiously start and set the bag on the table between you two.

Your cheeks are flaming hot, but you continue, “I know we’ve become good friends, but well…”

you take a steadying breath, “I like you Jongho.” You finish quietly, and finally look up to see his face.

A gummy smile fills your vision as he pulls the chocolate bear out, and he lets out the sweetest laugh. Your heart swoops in relief and something that feels like hope at the positive reaction.

“You beat me to it,” Jongho says, “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you out because I like you Y/N, a lot.” His cheeks are tinged pink and his eyes are warm and soft as they stare into yours.

You’re beaming now too when he reaches across the table to snag your hand in his and squeezes. Thank goodness for your friend pushing you to make a move!

Wooyoung

You’ve been dating Wooyoung for a couple years now, but both of you were busy with schedules/work on Valentine’s day last year

But not this year!

So you decide to surprise him with special handmade chocolate treats

Who knew chocolate was so difficult to work with?

“Okay, so now I just need to add the drizzle! Where the hell did my piping bag go?” you grumble to yourself and try to find the items you need amidst the chaos you’ve created in your kitchen.

You might as well have set off a chocolate bomb the way it's gotten everywhere: the counter, the sink, your hands, you think there might even be some in your hair. Needless to say, making your own chocolate treats for Valentine’s Day is messier than you expected.

But you can’t help but feel proud of your creations as you add the finishing touches. You’ve made a few different versions of chocolate truffles, some chocolate bars with fun additions, chocolate chip cookies, and of course, chocolate covered strawberries. It’s taken a good chunk of the day to get everything done, but you should have just enough time to clean up before Wooyoung gets there.

“Baby! Your handsome boyfriend is here! Where’s my surprise?”

Shit.

Wooyoung is still yapping loudly as he takes off his shoes and makes his way towards the kitchen where you are frantically trying to clean up your mess and make everything look presentable.

“-And Sannie wouldn’t tell me a single thing!” He complains as he rounds the corner and stops short when he sees you. There’s a pile of chocolate covered dishes in the sink, a haphazard spread of homemade treats, and most importantly you. Standing there with a streak of chocolate on your cheek and sheepish smile.

“Surprise?” you offer and then laugh when Wooyoung shrieks with glee and rushes towards you. He wraps you up in his arms and presses kiss after kiss all over your face. Even sneaking in a lick to get the chocolate on your cheek which makes you shriek.

“Don’t you have something to ask me?” he smirks and leans back against the counter, “Go ahead!” You roll your eyes but give in immediately, “Dearest Wooyoung, would you please be my Valentine even though we are already dating?” you ask.

Wooyoung giggles like the brat he is, and smacks another kiss to your lips, “No need to beg baby, I’ll be your Valentine.”

Mingi

It’s your first Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend, Mingi!

Neither of you have been in a relationship during the holiday before, so it’s your first time celebrating!

You plan the most perfect date to spoil your princess, except, everything is going wrong…

Maybe there’s a way you can still salvage the night?

You’re not sure how things could have gone so wrong when you took so much time to make sure everything went to plan!

It started when your boss kept you late at work to finish a last minute task. Then, after rushing to get ready and make it to the new restaurant he’s been excited about, you find out that they double-booked your reservation slot and have no available tables. Now it’s pouring rain, you’re hungry, and you and Mingi are getting soaked as you run back to your car that’s parked a few streets over because of course the parking lot at the restaurant was full.

Once inside, you start the car and blast the heat, sitting in silence as you try to collect yourself and try not to ruin the night further by crying. It’s no matter, as soon as you look over at your soggy boyfriend you burst into tears.

“Oh Princess, it’s okay!” Mingi tries his best to console you, reaching over to stroke your damp hair, but you just sob harder into your hands.

“I just wanted to give you a nice Valentine’s Day,” you blubber and take a shaky breath, “but everything is ruined!”

Mingi shakes his head and reaches over, undoing your seatbelt and grabbing your waist to tug you into his lap. He presses your face into his neck and rubs those big hands up and down your back until your breathing is more steady and your sobs have quieted to sniffles. “Shhh,” he soothes, “nothing is ruined Y/n.”

“But-”, he presses a finger to your lips before you can argue back. “Nothing is ruined,” he says firmly, tilting your head back so you can look him in the eyes, “I just wanted to spend this night with you. It doesn’t matter to me if we get dressed up and go out, or if we eat ice cream and cuddle at your place.”

He gently wipes your tear tracks away with his thumb and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. You give him a small, but genuine smile, and nod, “Okay, let’s go home then, I can give you the box of chocolates I left.” The baritone chuckle that follows warms you right up.

San

You’ve been working for KQ for several months now as a videographer for Xikers

Of course you develop a silly little crush on San (who hasn’t?!), but it has not gone away like you originally thought it would.

And to make matters worse, he flirts with you every chance he gets! It’s really not good for your blood pressure

And now, it’s Valentine’s Day, maybe it’s time you say something?

It’s late, but you’re still in the KQ building, pacing outside the dance practice studio. All day you’ve been going back and forth in your mind on whether or not you should give the small box of chocolates you picked up on your lunch break to your crush.

While the dating ban is no longer in place for the members of Ateez, that doesn’t mean that Choi San is interested in dating you. But when you think over all the recent interactions you’ve had with the man, maybe there’s something there…

Just this morning you had arrived at your desk and found your favorite snack and drink from the vending machine sitting there with a sticky note. The note had a cute drawing of Sandeoki and a heart. Your coworker bestie teased you mercilessly for your (not-so) secret admirer and you decided that it’s time to do something about this cat and mouse game you’ve been playing!

Which brings you to the present. It’s Valentine’s Day, and you’ve spent most of it gathering your courage to say something about your feelings.

You peek your head into the studio to see him taking a break from dancing and sipping water, no manager in sight. Now’s my chance!

San looks up at the sound of footsteps and his eyes widen when they land on you marching determinedly towards him. Despite the dozens of times you rehearsed exactly how you would confess, you forget every single word and just thrust the box of chocolates into his hands.

It only takes a few seconds for San to catch up and then in the next breath his lips are on yours. You could melt into the floor with how good it feels to have those strong arms circle your waist and pull you closer. One hand travels up your back, and into your hair where he gently tilts your head to kiss you deeper with a sigh.

When you pull away to catch your breath, San smiles wide, dimples on display, and rasps, “Finally, I’ve wanted to do that since we met.”

Yeosang

You spend a quiet night in with your long-term boyfriend, Yeosang, on Valentine’s Day

There’s plenty of takeout and your favorite movies on the agenda

And what’s this? A surprise slice of chocolate cake for you two to share?

You’ll take any chance to show your Doberman how much you love him <3

“Precious, I think the restaurant messed up and gave us a free slice of chocolate cake,” Yeosang says as he unpacks the multiple bags of food you ordered onto the coffee table. You smile to yourself at how sweet your boyfriend can be, “No Sangie, I ordered it for us to share!”

Yeosang just hums in response and plops down on the couch next to you as you queue up the first movie of the night. You both tuck into the food in comfortable silence, thighs pressed up against each other, hands brushing, and it’s perfect.

By the time the first movie ends, you’ve polished off most of the food and you’re curled up in the arm of the couch with your legs in Yeosang’s lap. He’s absentmindedly massaging your calves and you’re fighting not to doze off.

“Hey,” Yeosang pats your knee and smiles fondly at the sleepy look in your eyes, “do you want to have that slice of cake now?”

You nod excitedly and sit up a bit, shaking off the haze of sleep while he reaches down to grab the container and two spoons. You pout immediately and whine, “Sangie, I told you we’re sharing…”

Yeosang just looks at you confused and offers you one of the spoons, “I know,” he says slowly, “That’s why I grabbed two spoons?”. You scoff and grab both utensils, tossing one back onto the table, and scooping up a bite of the chocolate cake with the other. You hold it up to Yeosang’s mouth and give him your best puppy dog eyes, “This is what I meant, now try it!”

He pauses for a moment, but relents and lets you feed him the bite. Happy noises and a thumbs up follow and you grin victoriously.

Before you can scoop up a bite for yourself, Yeosang gently takes the spoon and does it instead. You eagerly lean in to take the bite, but he pulls the spoon back out of reach. “Hey!” you cry out and try again quickly, but Yeosang is faster. He’s laughing now and you huff indignantly, “Withholding cake on Valentine’s Day is just cruel!”

Finally done teasing you, Yeosang places the spoon right on your lips for you to take the bite and follows it with a quick peck. “I’m sorry precious, you’re just too cute when you’re riled up,” he says and continues to feed you and himself the rest of the cake.

Yunho

You’re a new-ish BBTrippin dancer and poor Yunho is crushing on you so bad (good thing it’s mutual)

And it’s so obvious to everyone except you

Until you overhear him one night talking with Seonghwa about his feelings for you…

Now you’re just finishing up a special Valentine’s Day performance with the members and you have something special for Yunho

The adrenaline of performing is still coursing through you and there’s whoops and laughter all around as you scurry from the stage over to the dressing room where you and the other dancers have stashed your personal items during the show. You don’t have much time before the idols are needed for post-concert remarks and fan interactions and whatever else is demanded of them, so you need to hurry and catch Yunho before he’s swept away.

It’s quiet and you’re digging through your bag when suddenly a large hand lands on top of your head. You whip around and nearly trip over your own feet scrambling back when the very man you wanted to see is right there in front of you.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” Yunho starts, “I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful stage! You looked amazing out there… well, you always look great when you perform,” He’s rambling, and it’s so damn cute you have no chance to contain your giggle. How could you have missed his obvious affections?

“- and you’re perfect,” he startles and rushes to correct himself, “I mean your dancing was perfect!”

“Thank you, Yunho,” you smile warmly, “You looked really good out there too! Atiny were going crazy!””

As if he couldn’t get any cuter, he’s blushing up to his ears and you decide now is the perfect moment. You finally pull out the shiny box of chocolates from your bag and Yunho is stunned silent when he sees it.

You shuffle a half-step closer and look up up up, “I know you’ve got places to be, but I got these for you…” he steps closer then and gently grasps your hands, big dark eyes staring hopefully into your own, “I like you too Yunho.”

A big smile takes over his handsome face and he lifts you up into his arms and spins you around while you both laugh happily. When he sets you back on your feet, his eyes flicker down to your lips and your heart races. You want so badly to kiss him, but at that moment, there’s a thump from out in the hallway and you both remember where you are.

“I’ll find you after all this, wait for me sweetheart?” he asks, you’re nodding before he even finishes the question.

Hongjoong

You are a budding fashion designer and have become fast friends with Hongjoong while working together on an upcoming collab

You’ve just finished up the last piece and are packing it up to send to Hongjoong

But you realize Valentine’s Day is approaching

What if you add an extra item to the package to acknowledge the growing feelings between you two?

“Thanks for all your help today,” You call out to your assistant as she heads towards the exit of your studio, “ I can finish up this last thing, get home safe!”

You hum along to the music playing from a speaker as you take your time wrapping up the jacket you’ve spent hours upon hours working on for your very special client.

Working with the very fashionable Captain of Ateez was not something you ever expected for your career, but when the management team from KQ reached out to you so long ago for a potential collaboration you jumped on it right away. And now here you are, on your third collection designed together with Hongjoong for him to wear on the upcoming tour.

You just need to package up the final item, an ornate jacket you hand embroidered, for its journey to Hongjoong, but you are hesitating to seal the box. There’s only a few days until Valentine’s Day and you’re debating adding a little gift to acknowledge the chemistry and flirtation that’s been present at every meeting you’ve had with the tenacious man so far.

Recalling the heat in his gaze when your hands were on him for his last fitting a couple weeks ago, and the smell of his perfume as he sat closer than needed to look at the fabric samples you were considering, your mind is made up.

A few days later

Hongjoong tries not to be too obvious in his excitement to open the latest package from you that was delivered earlier that day, but based on the snort of laughter from Jongho as he hurries to his room he was unsuccessful.

Finally alone, he tears into the box carefully and pulls out the completed jacket. It’s even better than the mock-up sketches you made, and he’s so impressed by the level of detail you’ve incorporated.

He’s admiring the fit of the jacket in his mirror when his eyes catch the edge of another item in the box that he overlooked. “Hmm?” he wonders and pulls out another, smaller decorative box, “There’s something else?”

Inside, there is an assortment of fancy chocolates along with a note that has a phone number scribbled on it and your signature. Hongjoong throws his head back and laughs, already plugging the number in his phone to call you.

Seonghwa

This Valentine’s Day, you and Seonghwa decided that you need to take cheesy couple photos

I’m talking all the props and matching outfits and silly poses

How convenient that your friend owns her own photography studio and is willing to take all your pictures and ensure privacy!

And of course you brought chocolates to include in your pics

“Okay, and now lean across the table like you're going to kiss… Hey! Don’t actually kiss!” Your friend fakes gagging noises and you and Seonghwa giggle to yourselves while trying to hold the pose as her camera clicks away.

It was Seonghwa’s idea to take couple photos for Valentine’s Day and you were quick to reach out to your best friend to see if you could borrow some of her props to take the pictures at home. To your surprise, she wanted to set up a whole photoshoot for you two, the only catch is a surprise visit to her niece’s birthday party from your boyfriend.

“Alright, last few photos! Y/n? Wanna grab your prop?” your friend asks and shoots you a wink. You quickly grab the heart shaped box of chocolates you hid behind a nearby fake plant and grin at the shocked look on Seonghwa’s face.

“Darling, when did you sneak that over there?” he blurts out and you laugh as Seonghwa’s surprise is captured from every angle. “Don’t worry about it Hwa, here,” you say and pluck out a chocolate to hold up to his plush lips, “try one!”

A devilish smile spreads across his face and he takes the chocolate into his mouth, making sure to catch your fingers with that long tongue. The tables have turned and now you’re the one that’s shocked.

Your cheeks heat and you try to snatch your hand back, but Seonghwa grabs your wrist and holds you right here. He presses a kiss to the tip of each finger and all you can hear in that moment is your thundering pulse and the rapid shutter of the camera.

Seonghwa maintains intense eye contact the entire time and even raises a perfect eyebrow until you, overwhelmed, look away. Silence fills the room and you gulp.

“Well, that was hot.”

Leave it to your friend to break up the sudden tension, you all laugh it off and finish up the shoot. But based on the quick squeeze to your thigh under the table, Seonghwa is far from done playing with you.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you all had the sweetest Valentine’s Day! ❤️💗❤️

All writing content created here belongs to me (@staytinyweeniebeanie) and I do not consent to my work being reposted on other platforms without permission!

Reblogs and Comments are always welcome and highly appreciated!

dividers by @enchanthings

#beanie writes!#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #jongho x reader #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez ot8

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elfgrove · 1 day ago

Text

These are wonderful fics. Adding a couple more of my personal favorites hopefully for OP as well as followers.

⭐️ Growing Old with You by LilliputianDuckling (mostly Teen, one Explicit) 2022 - 110,554 words - Complete

A 12 part series of fics following Connor Luthor and Tim Drake through a lifetime together from childhood best friends to married. this is one of those delightful AUs where both boys are raised as the scions of rich families and get into super hero work. Connor is raised by Lex as his son and loved and Tim is a good guy but a little more flexible due to early exposure to Lex. Most everyone has complex depth in their decisions and motivations with supervillain parents, bad parents, secret identities, and etc.

The Loveless Cat by PeridotLion45 (Teen) 2020 - 16K words - Complete

For a long time, Tim was markless, his skin free of any design or name that would show that someone, someday would love him. He gave up on finding anyone who would before he turned thirteen. Now, in his late teens, he had a name that people recognised, even revered. He had a mom in the form of his mentor. He had a mark.

I have soft spot for "Tim Drake as Catlad/Stray" and soulmate fics and this is great oneshot combo of both tropes.

Slow Down by RoosjeM (Not Rated) 2024 - 35K words- Completed

After getting hit by Scarecrow's latest toxin Tim realises that Gotham was slowly draining all his sanity. Knowing that if he stays longer he would truly lose his mind, Tim wonders if he should leave Gotham. In true Two Face fashion, Tim flipped a coin. Heads, Tim would stick around Gotham and nothing would change. Tails, Tim would leave Gotham and start over. Meanwhile the Bats are trying to figure out a way to make up to Tim after all that had happened. “Are you sure about this?” “I can’t do this anymore, Tam.” Tim admitted. “Can you at least tell me where you’re going?” “No.” “Damn Tim.” Tam cursed, “I mean, good for you, get some well deserved rest. When are you coming back?” Tim avoided Tam’s gaze. “You are coming back, right?” “There is no plan for that for now.” Tim admitted.

Tim-centric fic. Angst with a happy ending. This one's a bit rough in it's interpretation of a few of the the Bats, but it's a pretty cathartic read for having Tim stop and prioritize self care and healing before finding his way back to his loved ones and healing those relationships.

And Now I'm Covered in the Colors, Pulled Apart at the Seams by Sohotthateveryonedied (Gen) 2020 - 17K words - Complete

Alternate universe in which we gather soul strings as we fall in love, with different colors representing the different kinds of love you experience over time. Tim has loved and lost so many times over the years that, as rare as it is to find someone who actually loves him back, his strings are mangled like barbed wire. What's the point of loving if it only ends in heartache? (Or: Tim’s experience with love, a story told in snapshots.)

Another soulmate fic with a chunk of self-deprecating Tim needs hugs.

TimKon Fic Recs Part 1.

So I mentioned in a reply to @oneswordstyle that I had a ton of TimKon fic recs and I was about to spam them with a million comments in the replies, but then I figured it was probably easier to do in a post. So here it goes. It also got too long so I split it into 2 parts.

Scions by Winterlive (Explicit) 2008 - 63K words - Complete

Tim Wayne, adopted son of Gotham mogul and secret vigilante Bruce Wayne, shows every sign of being his father's true successor - by day, and by night. Tim sets his sights on a valuable Metropolis lab for merger with Wayne Biotech, and all that stands in his way is the city's own rising star: Conner Luthor.

Note: I really love when characters get to grow up. I think Tim was a really fun teen to read about, and this fic explores him as a young business man and true heir to the Wayne legacy. Kon is Luthor’s son and prodigy in this, and it makes them interesting foils.

⭐️ call me cute and feed me sugar by suzukiblu (Teen) 2024 - 80K words - Ongoing

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy. This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

Note: Kon is fresh outta the test tube in this one, and despite the author’s facetious use of the word “sugar daddy” this is actually really sweet. Make sure to drop a comment and let the author know we’re excited for the next chapter!

Baby, Talk Me Down (Take Me Out) by sage (Teen) 2020 - 90K words - hiatus

Tim has been working too hard lately, and everyone is starting to notice. Bruce takes it upon himself to help Tim do some self-care and ships Tim off to the Kent farm for the summer, forcing him to take a well-earned vacation. Naturally, things get out of hand.

Note: This fic is on hiatus, so make sure to stop by and leave an encouraging comment, so we can get the ending this sweet story deserves. Tim finally gets a minute to breathe and really process all that’s been happening. He also gets to experience small town life but also he’s Tim so he gets himself into trouble. I find in a lot of fics, Kon always feels out of place or like he doesn’t quite belong, but he’s very settled and has really taken the time to learn who he is in this one, which I appreciated very much.

The Classic Shenanigans of Two Idiot Boys in Love by MashpotatoeQueen (Teen) 2021 - 94K words - Complete

In which the papers get hold of the fact that Timothy Drake-Wayne is dating another boy, Kon is all chill, Tim is no chill at all, the internet is flipping out, and Dick Grayson is quite possibly the greatest big brother of all time.

Note: An attempt to explore the public side of their relationship, a story told in vignettes.

⭐️ Stars Over Gotham by madaliz (Explicit) 2025 - 170K words - ongoing

Kon is tasked by the Planet to write the defining piece on Gotham City (no pressure). As he learns more about the city's first family and its criminal underbelly, he finds himself increasingly entangled with the mob and the vigilantes he's supposed to keep away from.

A story about how Kon and Tim grapple with their family legacies, fall in love, and team up to foil a conspiracy to ruin Gotham's hard earned order.

Note: Adults! Self-assured Kon! A really interesting world in which the Bats and the JL are completely separate and do not mingle. They are aware of each other but maintain strict rules. When Kon goes to Gotham in his civilian identity as a reporter his and Tim’s game of cat and mouse quickly turns into a Romeo and Juliet situation and I AM OBSESSED. There’s only 3 chapters left and I love this fic so much I’m dreading saying goodbye to it. Make sure to leave a comment to let the author know!

I’m alone here, I think by unluckyloki (Teen) 2019 - 93K words - Complete

Superboy is fighting robots in San Francisco and remembers something that wasn't. There's a new priest in the Naxos temple appointed by Dream of the Endless. Kon is missing something. Tim is missing everything. One day Krypto practically drags Superboy to a remote island in Europe and there's a dark haired guy smiling at Kon like he knows him.

Maybe he does.

Note: I’m not usually a fan of fics set in the cartoon Young Justice world, but this one is really special. The prose is exquisite, and it feels like reading an epic poem. Even though it’s kind of in the blurb it took me way too long to realize it was a Sandman crossover, but honestly you don’t really have to know anything about that. I’m also not usually a fan of ‘Tim Drake has magic AUs’ but again, I can read anything if it’s executed well, and this writer executes basically everything perfectly.

I Want it That Way (1990s Tim/Kon) by WynterSky (Series) - 140K words - Complete

On a field trip, Robin has a close encounter with the newest super in Metropolis, only to discover the hard way that Superboy secretly works for Lex Luthor. They agree to work together on a plan to free Superboy from Luthor’s hold, but Robin isn’t sure how far he can trust him—and his developing feelings only make things more complicated.

Note: Series says “not complete” but the series currently has 3 fics, which are all complete. Set int he 90s, which I think is perfect for superheroes. A lot of the mythos collapses with modern day technology. Fresh outta the test tube Kon is sort of held hostage by Lex Luthor, and young Tim realizes this and decides to save him. The 90’s setting is what MAKES this series something truly special.

buy back the secrets by sundiscus (Teen) 2024 - 90K words - Ongoing

He takes a long, slow breath. Ignores the glares from the other students. “Superboy,” he murmurs. “It’s me. If you’re listening, I could use some help.”

Or: 5 times Superboy saves Tim Drake, and one time Tim Drake saves Superboy.

Note: 1 chapter left! Don’t forget to leave a comment so we can let the author know how much we’re anticipating the last chapter. This is another love-square AU, I can’t help myself. In this one, they’re both skewed a bit younger, but they deal with the more heavy side of vigilantism.

Trust fall by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2021 - 22K words - Complete

‘Drake?’

Tim felt like he was choking. His throat was tight. He couldn’t swallow.

‘Damian?’ He managed.

Damian was… here. At Kent Farm. Dressed in the too-big Batman pajamas that Dick had bought him last Christmas as a joke. And- And-

Tim was wearing Kon’s t-shirt and his hair was messy and his lips were swollen and- He wasn’t ready for this- He wasn’t- He couldn’t-

How had he been so stupid?

Or: Tim comes out to Damian and prepares for the entire family to know by morning. It just so happens that Damian can keep a secret. Multiple, actually.

Note: Not usually a fan of Damian/Jon but I think this fic handles it well and is more of a puppy-crush than anything. This is a coming-out fic that deals in all those tropes, and I think handles it really well. Again, I’m not usually into the more fanon interpretation of Tim as a timid, neglected, anxiety-ridden wet cat, but this fic explores some insecurities without, I feel, straying too far from his actual characterization.

⭐️ First Kontact by Chiyana

Two years after a disastrous first encounter with an alien entity called Necros, Captain Tim Drake is given his first mission back in the field. The simple six-month exploration mission babysitting a group of LexCorp researchers goes abruptly downhill upon the discovery of a missing colony ship, landing Tim directly back into the horror that took him out of the field in the first place and leading him to his second first encounter with an alien race. Usually he's all for over-achieving, but even he finds this to be a bit excessive.

At least this time one of the aliens is more interested in him alive than dead.

Note: This may be my favorite fic I’ve ever read, like ever. This is a sci-fi au, where Tim is a captain, and the Kryptonians are space refugees after the destruction of their planet. The WORLD BUILDING is exquisite. I absolutely love Bart in this world. Also, despite the new world building, the explanation for Kon’s ostracism from the House of El is fantastic. This is one of those stories that has dug into my brain. Although, please mind the tags, it can be intense.

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once (Mature) 2022 - 92K words - Complete

57 missed calls.

Bart_ahhh tagged you and one other in a post

The Gazette (4 hours ago)

Bruce Wayne’s youngest eligible bachelor is off the market: Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped in Vegas [EXCLUSIVE pictures]

63 unread messag-

Tim jolted upright. His eyes scanned over the headline again. Timothy Drake-Wayne eloped… Timothy Drake-Wayne what?

And with who?

Or: Tim and Conner accidentally get married in Vegas and decide to stay that way until they can get quietly divorced. It’s simple. Except the Bats are detectives and the press is relentless and oh, Tim is hopelessly in love with his best frie- husband?

Note: classic accidentally married first, then fall in love. Obsessed with this fic, and the author has indicated it’s supposed to be a series, so I canNOT wait to see where this AU goes. Honestly Cassie is the most relatable person in this fic, because she totally believes that these two idiots would do something so ridiculous but what she can’t believe is the audacity to get spontaneously married on her birthday.

#timkon #fanfic

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coolemmasulivan2 · 10 hours ago

Text

A Beautiful Mess | 2

Pairing: Lando Norris

Summary: Two neighbors who can’t stand each other, until an accidental kiss changes everything.

Word count: 3125

You can read part 1 here

Do we need somebody Just to feel like we're alright? Is the only reason You're holding me tonight 'Cause we're scared to be lonely?

It had been a week since you last saw Lando. After his visit to the school, it was like he had vanished. You knew he was home because, as always, he made sure you knew that, but beyond that, there was no sign of him.

The touch of your lips has haunted you ever since. You cursed yourself, telling yourself that you should have pushed yourself away the moment your lips met, you shouldn't have frozen.

"You're not getting it! Our lips touched." You practically yelled at your sister over FaceTime. She burst out laughing. "It's not funny. I hate him."

"If you hate him so much, why are you this worked up?" She teased you.

You frowned. "Are you implying I felt something?"

She shrugged. "Did you?"

"NO!"

At the same time, Lando was telling Max, who was stuffing clothes into his suitcase, since he was going back to Lonon, what had happened.

"It was an accident, dude!" Max said, watching his friend with amusement. "Just forget about it."

"I can't forget it!" Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Our lips touched, Max. I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it."

Max snorted. "Sounds like you liked it."

Lando spun around. "Are you insane? I meant goosebumps in a bad way. Like… I feel sick."

"Yeah, sure." Max smirked, barely holding back laughter.

You downed the last sip of your coffee, grabbed your bag, and stepped out of your apartment. Today was going to be a good day. You could feel it.

You had woken up early, gone for a run, had breakfast, and still had time to stop by your favorite bakery at the end of the street. Everything felt perfectly in place.

For once, Lando Norris was the last thing on your mind. Or at least, he was supposed to be.

You stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor, as you shifted your bag onto your shoulder, but then, just as the doors were sliding shut, a hand shot between them, forcing them open.

Your stomach dropped.

Lando locked eyes with you, before stepping inside. He didn't said anything and neither did you. The doors closed, sealing you both inside the small space. The building had a few years, so the elevator was not that spaceous.

He looked at his watch and run a hand through his curls. He looked like he was in a hurry.

Just five more floors.

Four.

Three.

Then... A jolt.

The elevator shuddered violently before coming to a stop. The lights flickered once, then settled into an unsettling dim glow.

You both froze. Then Lando sighed, pressing the emergency button. Nothing happened.

"You've got to be kidding me." Lando muttered, dragging a hand down his face. "Great. Just my luck." He let out a long sigh, pacing in the cramped space. If the elevator had felt small before, it felt suffocating now.

You, far too calm for his liking, pressed the emergency button a few times. "Can you stop moving?" You snapped, growing irritated.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I bothering you?" His voice dripped with sarcasm.

You shot him a look. "Yes, actually. You've been bothering me for a while now. Thanks for finally noticing."

Lando scoffed. "Excuse me if I'm not as relaxed as you!"

You could see he was nervous. "If you keep panicking like that, you're going to run us out of oxygen."

His head snapped toward you, eyes wide. "What--?! Aren't you supposed to be a teacher? That's not how you tell someone to calm down!"

"You're not a kid, are you?"

Lando let out a fake chuckle. "Fuck. Why did I have to get stuck with you?"

You crossed your arms. "Trust me, I'm wondering the same thing."

He let out an amused breath, shaking his head. "Please! This is probably going to be the highlight of your day."

"You really think you’re that special? You're just an idiot, Norris." You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Lando smirked, taking a deliberate step closer. "Well, then it seems we're not that different, princess."

"Don't you have anything better to do? Grow up, please. That pretty face of yours isn't going to get you out of everything forever."

"Oh..." He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "So you think I'm handsome?"

You exhaled sharply. "That's the only thing you got from what I said? You're impossible."

Somehow, the space between you had vanished. You weren't sure who had moved first, but suddenly, he was close. Closer than necessary.

Lando's gaze flickered down to your lips, as he licked his own. The air grew thick. The bickering stopped and he elevator fell into silence.

Your breath caught in your throat. Every logical thought screamed at you to move, push him away, to say something, but you didn't. Neither of you did.

Lando's hand twitched at his side like he was debating whether to reach for you. His chest rose and fell in deep, controlled breaths, but you could see it. He was just as caught in this moment as you were.

Then, just as his face leaned closer and your lips were about to touch, the elevator jerked back to life.

You stumbled slightly, as you immediately took a step back away from each other. He run a hand through his hair and you looked away from him. The air was thick, but neither of you acknowledged it.

The doors slid open and without hesitation, you stepped out, ignoring the concerned doorman who asked if you were okay. You didn't spare him, or Lando, a single glance as you strode out of the building.

Lando watched you go, jaw clenched, hands on his hips. He let out a breath and muttered under his breath: "What the fuck just happened?"

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Even surrounded by a classroom full of energetic kids, you couldn't shake the thoughts swirling in your head.

Why hadn't you pushed him away? Why hadn't you moved? Had you actually… wanted to kiss him? The questions run in your mind, each one making you more frustrated than the last.

By the time you got home, you felt exhausted, not physically, but mentally. You barely made it to the couch before grabbing your phone, dialing your friend number without hesitation.

"Let's go out tonight!" You blurted before she could even say hello.

A beat of silence. Then, suspicion. "Go out as in... clubbing?"

It had been a while. You weren't exactly the party animal type, so your sudden enthusiasm was unexpected.

"Yes!" You confirmed, already sitting up. "I need a distraction. Let's get dinner and then let's go out. Call the others."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done with my responsible and sensible friend?"

"Just be ready."

Determined to wipe the morning from your mind, you took a long shower, letting the heat ease the tension from your shoulders. Then, you dug through your closet, finding a dress you barely remembered owning: it was a red dress that hugged your body in all the right places. Paired with black heels that made your legs look like they belonged on a runway and a swipe of bold red lipstick. You felt powerful and it was just what you needed.

Lando leaned against the DJ booth, his drink on his hand as his friend, Martin Garrix, animatedly talked about his upcoming tour dates.

The club was packed, people moving to the heavy bass, neon lights flickering across the dance floor. It was the perfect place to blow off steam, to forget about the week.

Or at least, it was.

But the moment you walked in with your friends, all thoughts of relaxation evaporated.

Lando stiffened, nearly choking on his drink. "Oh, for fuck's sake."

"WHAT?" Martin shouted over the music.

Lando gestured toward the entrance. "Do you see that group that just walked in?"

Martin followed his gaze, spotting a group of friends laughing as they stepped into the club. "What about it?"

"The girl in the red dress. It's my neighbour!"

Martin's eyebrows shot up. "Wait... The neighbor? The one you kissed?"

Lando rolled his eyes. "We didn't kiss."

"Yet!" Martin smirked, clearly enjoying himself seeing Lando's annoyed face. He turned back to glance at you again. "She's beautiful."

Lando made a face, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. "She's a nightmare, that's what she is." Martin chuckled, seeing right through him. "And she's a kindergarten teacher, bet it's gonna be real awkward for some parents to see their kid's sweet little teacher dressed like that."

Martin laughed, draping an arm over Lando's shoulder. "Dude, you're so jealous already."

"Shut up. What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's obvious!" Martin smirked. "You like her. And you hate that every guy in this club is about to spend their night looking at her. I can practically see smoke coming out of your ears, mate."

"Fuck off."

Your feet ached, but you didn't care. You were having the time of your life. Hours had passed in a blur of music, laughter, and drinks, and you and your friends hadn't left the dance floor for more than a few minutes at a time.

The alcohol had done its job: Lando hadn't crossed your mind all night. (Well, except maybe now. But that doesn't count.)

Leaning against the bar, you waited for your drink when a man approached you. Tall, broad shoulders, very handsome. And exactly your type.

He flashed you a smile. "Do you come here often?"

You blinked at him before bursting into laughter. "Oh my god. That pick-up line does not match your face."

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that was terrible. I panicked."

You smirked. "I can tell."

"Not much of a flirt, I guess." He admitted, laughing along with you.

"Clearly."

He stuck out his hand. "I'm Eric, by the way."

You shook it, still grinning. "Y/n."

Lando leaned against the railing, beer in hand, eyes fixed on the bar. He told himself he was just people-watching, just casually scanning the room, but his gaze kept landing on you.

And the guy standing way too close to you.

The guy who looked like he'd stepped straight out of a fashion magazine. Tall, charming, and irritatingly good-looking. The kind of guy who knew exactly how to play his cards.

Lando took a sip of his beer, jaw tightening as he watched you laugh at something the guy said. You were drunk and from the way the guy leaned in, so was he. Too close. Way too close.

"You look like a creep." Martin shouted over the music, snapping Lando out of his glare. "Stop looking at her."

"I'm not looking at her."

Martin snorted. "Right. You're just analyzing the guy she's with." He nudged Lando's shoulder. "Worried she might take him home?"

Lando scoffed, tearing his eyes away. "I don't fucking care."

"Sure." Martin smirked, taking a sip of his drink. He didn't press further, letting his friend drown in jealousy.

You stumbled outside, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin like a slap. Eric followed closely behind, his hand steady on your back as he helped you sit down on a nearby bench as you waited for the cab.

"You're really nice, you know that?" You mumbled, tilting your head to look at him as he sat down beside you.

Eric smiled. "Thank God. I was worried I screwed up my chances with that terrible pickup line."

You laughed softly, resting your head against the cool metal of the bench. "You saved yourself."

"I'm glad!" He admitted, his voice warm. "I had a good time tonight."

"Me too." You sighed, your stomach swirling uncomfortably. You cleared your throat, barely above a whisper as the words slipped out. "I wish you were him."

Eric frowned. "Who?"

Before you could answer, a voice interrupted you. His voice.

"Y/n?" You and Eric both turned, and there he was. Lando. Hands in his pockets, his gaze locked onto you.

Eric's eyes widened in recognition. "Wow. Lando Norris?" He sounded excited, most likely a fan.

But you barely registered his reaction. Your stomach twisted again, and before you could stop it, you shot up from the bench, turned away from them both, and emptied your stomach onto the pavement.

Lando instinctively moved toward you, but Eric was faster. He was by your side, gathering your hair in his hands and rubbing slow circles on your back.

Lando clenched his jaw, watching the way Eric took care of you. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. The guy was too perfect. A walking green flag.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked gently. "Think you can stand?"

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, groaning as you nodded. Eric helped you to your feet, keeping you steady against his side. "Where's that damn cab?" Eric muttered under his breath, glancing around.

"I'll take her home," Lando said suddenly.

Eric turned to him, brows raised. "What?"

"We're neighbors. She's most likely going to pass out on the way back."

"Yeah, we drank quite a lot." He looked between you and Lando. "Y/n? You okay with that?"

"Hm?"

"Are you okay with going with Lando? Is he your neighbour?" He asked you, and Lando could almost hear himself rolling his eyes. The guy was seriously too nice.

"Yes!" You confirmed. Lando took a step forward and stretched his hands. You blinked up at him, your head heavy. "You're so annoying. Why are you always everywhere?" Despite your grumble, your hands slowly found his.

Eric's lips twitching into a sad smile. He gently let you go as Lando pulled you closer, steadying you against him.

"Thanks for taking care of her." Lando said.

"It was my pleasure." Eric replied, his gaze soft as he looked at you. "She's something special. And I just met her, so…"

You chuckled. "I like you, Eric."

He smiled. "I know, Y/n." Then his expression flickered, just for a second. "But I'm not him, right?"

Lando frowned, watching as you only groaned in response.

Eric let out a small breath before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek. Lando's grip on you tightened.

"It was nice meeting you." Eric said. "Call me sometime, yeah?" He turned to Lando, extending a hand. "Big fan, man. Nice to meet you."

Lando shook it briefly. "Yeah. You too."

Eric gave you one last glance before walking off.

Lando glanced down at you, your body leaning heavily into his side. "Come on, let's get you home."

You hummed, already half-asleep. "Still annoying."

"Yeah, yeah."

Lando pulled into his parking spot, turning off the engine with a quiet sigh leaving his mouth. When he glanced to his right, he wasn't surprised to see you fast asleep, just like he'd predicted.

Your head rested against the window of his McLaren, your mouth slightly open, breaths slow and steady. One of his Quadrant hoodies was draped over you.

Lando exhaled, leaning back against the seat as he stared at you. He'd never really taken the time to look at you before, not like this. You looked… peaceful. And you were indeed a very beautiful woman.

His fingers moved on their own, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear.

"What the hell am I doing?" Lando muttered to himself, running a hand down his face, he groaned under his breath. "I must be crazy."

Shaking off whatever the hell that was, he reached over and carefully pulled your head away from the window. Then, he stepped out of the car, circling around to your side and pulling the door open.

"Y/n?" He called, his voice quiet but firm as he nudged your arm. "Wake up. We're home."

"Hm?" You groaned, keeping your eyes firmly shut.

"Wake up. Come on."

He turned your face into the seat, snuggling deeper into the warmth. "Let me sleep!"

Lando huffed, crossing his arms as he glanced around the dimly lit garage. "If you don't wake up, I'm leaving you here." Nothing. "I cannot believe her." With a sigh, he leaned down, sliding one arm beneath your legs and the other behind your back. He hesitated for a second before carefully lifting you into his arms.

You instinctively curled into his chest, your face pressing against the crook of his neck, a small sigh leaving your lips. Lando froze for a split second, his heart racing in his chest.

Lando stepped into the elevator, shifting you slightly in his arms to press the button for his floor. You were still dead weight against him, your warm breath fanning against the side of his neck. He clenched his jaw, doing his best to ignore the way you seemed to fit perfectly against him.

When the doors opened, he carried you down the hall, stopping in front of your apartment.

"Alright, time to go home." He muttered, adjusting his grip. "Where's your key?" You mumbled something against his neck, your lips brushing against his skin. Then, before he could even react, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "Y/n." He tried again, shaking you gently. "Where's your key?"

Another muffled murmur. He sighed, dropping his head back against the door in frustration. Since you refused to answer him, and since he couldn't exactly rummage through your purse while holding you, he had no choice.

"Alright, you're coming with me." He muttered, carrying you across the hall to his own apartment.

He walked straight to his bedroom, gently lowering you onto his bed. As soon as your back hit the mattress, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair. But just as he moved, you reached out, your fingers curling into the fabric of his white shirt, right where it gaped open.

"Stay." You murmured, eyes still closed.

Lando froze. "You're drunk!" He reminded you, gently prying your fingers off him. You groaned but refused to let go, gripping his shirt again, this time tighter. His breath hitched as your fingertips brushed against his bare chest. "Y/n!"

"Lando!" You snuggled against the pillow, your grip unrelenting. "Stay." You whispered.

Lando clenched his jaw. He should go. He needed to go. But the way you held onto him, the way you looked so small and vulnerable in his bed… it made something twist inside his chest.

With a heavy sigh, he gave in. "Fine! But just until you fall asleep." He told himself that.

And yet, as he laid down beside you, feeling the warmth of your body so close to his, he had a sinking feeling that this was only going to make things a lot more complicated.

Tags:

@lilorose25 @downsideup1989 @anayaverse @ln4-cl16-world @chlmtfilms @444-leqz @joannaln4 @notarshia

#lando norris #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando imagine #lando x reader #lando x you #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader

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queen-of-the-avengers · 2 days ago

Text

Don't Stop Being You

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You have always seen the good in people, and the landlord is no exception. The guys are afraid of him but you’re going to prove to Bucky that no matter what, people are generally good. You just didn’t expect the night to backfire on you.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: experience (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

“Tell me again why you wanted me to come to the store with you.”

“We have a budget and I don’t trust the guys to stick to it.”

You look at Bucky. “So, I’m here for moral support?”

“Yeah.”

You chuckle and look back at your phone. He pulls into the store’s parking lot and looks for a spot, seeing one close to the entrance. He even puts his blinker on for good measure and starts to pull into the spot. However, a car on the other side decides he wants the spot and rushes to get it instead. Bucky and the man slam on their breaks, and you look up to see the man cursing at Bucky.

“I was here first! Go around!” Bucky yells back.

“This is my spot!”

“Go around!”

“Come on, Bucky. He’s probably a really nice guy. Maybe he’s having a bad day.”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not!”

“You always do this. He’s in the wrong!”

The man honks the horn, and you two look at him. “Ge that piece of shit out of my space!”

“Why don’t you come over here and say that to my face!”

The man takes out a gun from his coat pocket and shows it off, and you gasp and duck down. Bucky would have gotten out and beaten the man’s ass. However, you’re with him and he doesn’t want to put you in any danger.

“God, that’s a gun!” you gasp.

“Do you still think he’s nice?”

“Maybe no one has ever been nice to him before. Maybe violence is his only tool to express himself.” You pop your head up and smile at the man. “Hi!”

“Stop! What are you doing? Get down!”

“Don’t use the gun. Sorry about this guy,” you say and point to Bucky.

“What are you--Don’t apologize for me!”

“Just put the gun away, okay? No need for that,” you smile. The man nods and puts his gun away, and you wave nicely at him. “Thank you so much.”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Bucky whispers.

The man backs up and puts his hands up apologetically.

“Have a good day!” You wave. “See? You always see the worst in people.”

The shopping trip is now ruined so instead of taking the spot, Bucky pulls away and heads straight home. Grocery shopping can be saved for another day. Maybe this time without you. Sam and Steve are at the kitchen table eating when you get back home, and Steve is on a ramble about his job.

“Disney has been working my butt off. I’m the illustrator for two movies, and they need at least five strips of film before Friday. For both films. That’s three days. Not to mention Natasha. She’s sending me mixed signals. Are we a thing? Does she like me back? Women are hard.” Steve looks up and spots you. “Oh, hey Y/N.”

“Why do you always have to start fights with everyone, Bucky? Not everyone is out to get you.”

“He had a gun, Y/N. I was more worried about you than me. I was ready to beat his ass.”

“See? That’s your problem. Your immediate response is to fight.” You look at Sam and Steve. “Isn’t Bucky one of the most negative people you’ve ever met?”

“Yes,” Sam and Steve agree. “All he does is stare at people. It’s like he’s murdering them in his mind.”

“See? They agree with me,” you smirk.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I guess I don’t live in a world where I can smile and people do whatever I want them to do.”

“You don’t smile. Ever.”

You turn the faucet on to wash your hands only to get a face full of water. You shriek and try turning the water off but to no avail. Bucky jumps in and jerks the faucet to the right before turning off the water. You cough from the water that gets into your mouth, and Steve hands you a dish towel.

“What the fuck was that?” you shiver.

“Don’t feel bad. We’ve all had a face full of water once or twice.”

“There shouldn’t have been any time when you get a face full of water. I’m calling the landlord.” Bucky, Steve, and Sam all protest, and you step back in shock from the outcry. “What?”

“You’re not calling the landlord,” Bucky says.

“He’s a terrible man,” Steve informs.

“Don’t call the landlord,” Sam warns.

“Okay, I won’t call the landlord.”

You really thought you could listen to them when they told you not to go to the landlord, but you can’t help yourself. It doesn’t matter if he’s a terrible man or if the guys are afraid of him, he’s a landlord. If something is broken, he has the responsibility to fix it. Bucky takes the guys on a shopping trip since you couldn’t go earlier despite them never following the budget. You’re all alone which is perfect for what you plan to do.

Desserts are a great way to break the ice, so you whip up a quick batch of delicious chocolate chip cookies. These cookies are universally liked so you don’t think there will be an issue. The landlord lives in the basement of the building, so you use the elevator and head down there. It’s pretty nice for a basement. Why live somewhere else when you can live in your own building?

“Excuse me? Mr. Landlord?”

“Back here.”

You follow the voice to the back of the basement and see a rough and burly man sitting by a table whittling something.

“Hi. I hope you like cookies. I made too many and decided to come down here to see if you could take them off my hands.” He looks up and just stares at you, and you put the plate of cookies on the table. “I’m just gonna leave this right here.”

“What do you want?”

“Okay, I’m one of the people living in apartment 4D, and there is a laundry list of things that are considered a safety hazard. I was just wondering if you could come upstairs and see about getting them fixed.”

The man pretends to think about his answer even though you already know he has it.

“No.”

You nod and look around the place to see what else you can talk about with him. There is a picture hanging on the wall of two stick figures. It looks like it was drawn by a child.

“Oh, that’s neat. How old are your kids?”

“I did that. That’s me and my ex-wife.”

A shiver runs through your spine. “Okay. Listen, my roommates are scared of you, but I can tell you’re not as bad as they say you are. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the four of us living in such a dangerous place.”

“Four?” You freeze. “There should only be three.”

“Did I say four?” You start to stutter. “I’m sorry, I always seem to count myself… twice. Okay, bye.”

You quickly leave before the landlord can say anything else about your situation. By the time you get back to your apartment, the boys are back from shopping.

“Hey, you guys are back,” you smile. “Listen, we should try playing a game. I want you to think of a time when you did something stupid, how you were treated, and how you wish you were treated.”

“What did you do?” Bucky asks.

“I talked to the landlord.”

“What?” All three men stand up in a panic. “Alright, it’s happening. Do we have enough time for Escape Plan 1?”

“What’s going on?”

“Only three people are supposed to be living here. Not four.”

“Why didn't you tell me this? Why did you let me move in?”

“We needed the money!”

Someone knocks on the door, and all four of you seem frozen in fear. No one can move from their spot, but you’re the first one to shake this off. You walk to the front door and open it to reveal the landlord.

“Someone told me four people were living here instead of three?”

Bucky looks at you. “That idiot doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Come on,” you whisper to him.

The landlord pushes his way in and observes the place with judgemental eyes. He walks toward Steve’s room that’s located next to the kitchen, and everyone follows him like sheep. He moves to the bathroom, your room, Bucky’s room, and Sam’s room. Apart from a fourth person living here, the place isn’t as bad as it could be.

“This could have been worse. Four people living here are fine. I don’t care. Just leave me alone.”

“Mr. Landlord? I’m sorry for lying about how many people were living here--”

“Stop reminding him,” Bucky whispers.

“--but since you’re here, why not fix a few things?” The landlord has tattoos running down both of his arms, and you notice a particular one that stands out. “Please, Remy?”

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s tattooed on your skin. I took a leap of faith. Look, Remy, I can tell you’re a good guy.”

He sighs and looks around the place before settling his eyes on you. “Fine. What do you need fixed?”

“Close your eyes and point to something,” Bucky says.

“Her. Not you.”

You turn and give Bucky a smug smile to which he gives a mocking one back. The most pressing items on the list is your closet door that’s stuck, a leaking faucet in the bathroom, and the faucet in the kitchen. There are other things but you’ll start with those things first and see where Remy is at.

Remy decides to start with your closet door, and you sit on the bed to keep him company. To make him feel more comfortable, you bring up a conversation about his ex wife.

“Sorry about your divorce. I can’t imagine it’s easy.”

Remy gets on his knees and looks at the track your closet door is on. He takes out two of his tools and starts to tinker with it.

“Thanks. I’d say it was sudden but I should have seen it coming. We stopped talking, you know? We stopped doing things we loved. I’d come home and all I’d want to do is crack a beer.”

“Do you have any kids?”

“Oh, God, no. She never wanted any. Claimed that she wanted all my attention on her. Just as well, who would want a landlord as a father?”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Remy. I’d bet you’d make a great father.”

You could have sworn you saw him blush, but you move past it.

“It must have been really hard.”

He shrugs. “It is what it is.” He stands and looks at you. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. “It was hard.” He drops his tools and steps back from your closet. “Alright. Give her a whirl.”

You get up from your bed and walk over to your sliding closet door. You grab the handle and pull to open it the rest of the way but it’s stuck. You yank a bit harder but again, nothing happens.

“Here, let me try.”

Remy walks up behind you and grabs the closet door. Even with both your strengths, it’s not enough to make the closet door move. Bucky’s in the kitchen when he hears grunting coming from your room. He is about to pass it off when he remembers Remy is in there with you. He scrambles out of his chair and approaches your room not knowing what he is going to see. He scoffs when he sees Remy behind you. He’s so close that your ass is practically touching his dick.

“Okay, that’s enough.” You and Remy part ways. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”

You leave Remy in your room and join Bucky in the kitchen with a smug smile.

“Ready to admit you were wrong?”

“That man wants to sleep with you.”

“No, he doesn’t. He was just showing me how to open the closet door.”

“Anytime a man shows a woman how to do something from behind, it’s just an excuse to make her heart race and get her all nervous in the cute way women get when they’re nervous. Here, let me show you.” He spots a mug on the table. “Pick up that mug.” You shake your head and pick up the mug. “Oh, no, Doll, you’re doing it all wrong. Here, let me show you.”

Bucky walks behind you and wraps his thick arms around you. For a split second, you allow yourself to feel what it feels like to have Bucky’s arms around you. You close your eyes and relax into his embrace, feeling your heart race. He moves his head closer to your neck so his nose brushes against your jaw. A shiver runs down your spine; and no, you’re not cold. Despite Bucky’s metal arm, he makes you feel warm.

Is this what love feels like? No. You can’t be doing this to yourself. Your eyes pop open and you shove Bucky away from you before you start to confess your feelings for him.

“He was not doing that!”

“That’s exactly what he was doing to you!”

“You always see the worst in people!”

“That’s because people are the worst.” He holds up his metal arm. “How do you think I got this arm?”

You sigh and look away from him. “People can be good, Bucky. You just have to give them a chance. Why can’t you just admit you were wrong? I was nice and now he’s fixing stuff in our apartment.”

Remy walks out of your bedroom without his shirt on. He has an undershirt on but it covers even less than what his shirt was covering.

“Man, I am working up a sweat. I hope you don’t mind the smell of a real man in your room.” He grabs a cup from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of water. “Let me know when you want to get started on that bed.”

When Bucky can’t see him anymore, he looks at you with a disgusted look.

“Don’t give me that look. He’s turning my mattress.”

“Yeah, sure he is.”

You roll your eyes and leave Bucky standing in the kitchen all alone. The things in your bedroom don’t take a lot of time, but the leaky faucet in the bathroom does. In fact, it takes all day. During which you got soaked from the faucet spraying all over your shirt. Bucky hears your squeal and sees you coming out of the bathroom in laughter.

He, Sam, Steve, and Natasha are in the living room just watching you and Remy walk out with water all over you.

“Oh, hey, Nat. You guys would not believe what just happened. I was watching Remy fixing the sink when water sprayed all over me. I was totally soaked.”

“You were so wet,” Remy smirks.

Bucky has to stop himself from going to Remy and beating the shit out of him.

“Man overboard! So, to thank Remy for the work he’s been doing, I invited him to dinner. Who’s in?”

“Um, Steve and I have something planned,” Natasha mumbles.

“Yeah, I have a… thing to do,” Sam follows.

“No, thanks,” Bucky straight-out says.

“So, it’s just me and Y/N, huh?” Remy asks.

“Oh, no,” Bucky immediately says. “I change my mind. I’ll be there.”

Bucky crosses his arms to make them look bigger, and you have to look away before he catches you staring at him. Natasha smirks when she sees the slight blush on your cheeks but thankfully, doesn’t comment on it. Everyone but you, Remy, and Bucky leave the apartment, and you start making something light for dinner. Salad, a little bit of chicken, and a nice bottle of wine. It’s nothing fancy, just whatever you had leftover in the fridge. Remy, after getting ready in the basement, brought his own bottle of wine… that he made himself.

“Remy brought over… whatever this is.”

“I ferment things in the basement.”

You pour yourself a glass of the homemade wine, but Bucky has other plans for you.

“You’re not drinking that, Y/N.”

“Yes, I am.” You grab the cup before he can and take a huge sip. That was a mistake. It’s fucking disgusting. You spit out most of it and swallow the rest, but you give Bucky a wounded smile. “See? Yum.”

“Would you like some?” Remy asks.

“Oh, no, thank you. Someone needs to stay sober to fight you later.”

“Bucky,” you hiss. “Stop it. You and Remy actually have a lot in common.” You look at Remy. “Bucky got out of a really bad relationship last year. I heard it was really bad.”

“In the end, we all go through the same issues,” Remy says.

“Okay,” Bucky whispers.

Dinner was mostly awkward but by the end of it, Remy and Bucky were in a much better mood. You three take the small party to the couch. Remy takes a sip of his fermented wine and laughs.

“Man, I didn’t think I’d ever get to enjoy myself again. Thank you for what you did here tonight.” You give him a kind smile. “I’ll be right back.”

When Remy leaves the living room, you move closer to Bucky.

“See? I was right.”

“What do you mean? Did you see the way he was buttering me up so he could move in on you?”

“Why can't you just admit you were wrong?”

“How can you live this long on your own?”

“There is no part of that man that wants to sleep with me.”

“He’s been creeping on you all night!”

“No, he hasn’t!”

Bucky is about to answer when Remy walks back into the living room. Only this time, he’s not wearing any pants. The look on Bucky’s face is enough for you to turn and notice Remy.

“Hey, Remy, what happened to your pants?” you stutter.

“I’ve never had a threesome before.” Your mouth drops several inches in shock. “That’s what we’re doing, right?”

“Okay, I never expected this,” Bucky mutters.

“I’ll be in the bedroom.”

He turns and leaves, and it takes several long seconds before you can find your voice.

“What the fuck?” you whisper.

You get off the couch and approach your bedroom slowly. Remy is inside doing leg stretches. You chuckle and close the bedroom door before turning to Bucky.

“I love watching you be wrong, Y/N,” Bucky smirks.

“Okay, I admit. Tonight is a bad night, but people are generally good. I’m not wrong about that.”

“People are jerks.”

“He is hurting from his divorce--”

“You’re seriously making excuses for this man?” Bucky smirks. “If you feel so bad then get in there.” You open the door and see Remy doing lunges to get himself warmed up. You chuckle nervously and shut the door again. “I’m so turned on right now.”

“You would seriously have a threesome with him just to get me to admit that I’m wrong?”

“We could do a lot worse than Remy. He’s got strong arms,” he says sarcastically.

Okay, now he’s making it into a game. There’s no way in hell you’re backing out now. Like hell, you’re going to be the one to admit that you were wrong. You’re going to get Bucky to admit that he was wrong even if takes you all night. You kick your shoes off and Bucky’s eyes widen slightly.

“Let’s have a threesome.”

You turn and head inside your room. Remy grins at the thought of doing this with you two, and he grabs your wrist to pull you in closer.

“So, a menage a trois is about three people… a trois… menaging fully.”

“Got it,” you nod.

“This is happening right now,” Bucky says. “We’re doing this.”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Okay, this is going to get uncomfortable, but as long as we keep communicating, we will get through this. Let’s get some relaxing music going on in here.”

“Great idea,” Bucky says. Remy walks over to the small radio on your desk, and Bucky turns to you with panicked eyes. “Why can’t you admit that you’re wrong?”

“Why can’t you admit that he’s a good guy?” you whisper back

“We are about to have a menage a trois with this guy because you can’t admit that you’re wrong.”

“You are out of your mind. All I’m saying is that he’s a good guy.”

Music starts playing and Remy dances over to you and Bucky. You and Bucky stop whisper-fighting to dance along to the music.

“Yeah, get into it,” Remy grins.

“Oh, I am so into this. Are you into this, Y/N?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Admit that you were wrong and this will stop.”

“Nope. I love this song. Turn it up.”

Remy walks up behind Bucky and starts massaging his shoulder. His first instinct is to turn and deck the bitch in the face, but he won’t result to violence. He tries to shrink away from Remy but the older man won’t let Bucky go anywhere. Bucky’s face contorts in panic because he knows that Remy can’t see him. He glares at you but you refuse to back down. Honestly, you want to know what Bucky will do if you refuse to back down. Will he let things go too far?

“I know this is awkward but the more you loosen up, the better it will be. Right now, I’m just massaging your shoulders, but then I will be unbuttoning your pants.”

“Okay,” Bucky says, his voice cracking.

Honestly, this is kind of funny. At this point, it’s about how far you can push Bucky. How far is he willing to go if you’re willing to go all the way? Bucky hates when people touch him so it’s a miracle that Remy is getting as far as he can with him now. Remy slides one of his hands in Bucky’s hair, and Bucky looks at you with fire in his eyes.

“Then I’m going to unbutton my shirt, but I’m going to keep my underpants on.” Remy pulls away from Bucky but the relief is short-lived. Remy takes one of Bucky’s hands and one of your hands, bringing them together. “Right now, you two get us started.”

Oh, fuck. You don’t know if you can do this.

“You want Y/N and I to get it started?” Bucky looks at you and his grip on both your hands gets tighter. “Are you doing this?”

“Yes, are you doing this?”

“I will do this, Y/N,” Bucky says seriously.

“Good because so will I.”

“Say you’re wrong and this is over.”

“I’m not wrong. You admit that you’re wrong and then this can end.”

“Fine, let’s do this.”

Bucky grabs both sides of your face and leans in. No, this isn’t how you want this to happen. This isn’t how you imagined your first kiss with Bucky. You imagine it’s after you tell him how much you like him. Love, if it even gets there. You imagine doing it in private with no one else around. You imagine sparks to fly, like you two are meant to be.

No, this is all wrong. You are… wrong. Before Bucky’s lips can touch yours, you push him away in anger. Not at him but at yourself.

“Fine! I admit it! I’m wrong!”

“Yes!”

“Sorry, Remy,” you sigh.

“What is going on here?”

You, Remy, and Bucky look at the door to see Sam standing there with a confused look on his face.

“I’m not ready for a four-way. I’m out,” Remy says before leaving.

“Get out,” you sigh. “Please.”

Bucky looks at you and immediately feels bad for the entire evening. Still, he and Sam leave you alone in your room. A few hours pass before someone knocks on your door, and you open it to see Bucky standing there.

“Listen, Y/N--”

“Whatever you have to say, don’t. I’m not in the mood.”

You turn and walk to your bed but leave the door open for him to either come in or close it.

“Just because I see the worst in people, that doesn’t mean you should stop seeing the good in them. I admire that about you.”

You look at him with a smile. “Were you really going to kiss me?”

Bucky returns the smile and grabs the doorknob. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

Guess you’ll never know, but deep down, you know the answer.

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #mcu fic

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panlight · 13 hours ago

Note

One thing that I STILL can’t understand is why do the Cullen kids still go to school?

They know everything and if somebody asks they just can say that they’re homeschooled or something.

I’d be fed up with school over the time.

This is another one of those "author choices." By that I mean this is something the author wanted (for the Cullen kids to be in high school), but from the POV of the characters, it really makes no sense.

(I also think the name "Renesmee" is an author choice. I will never believe that it feels in-character for Bella to have come up with. Edward Jacob/Edward Junior, on the other hand, is VERY Bella IMO. Also moving to Forks at all is an author choice. Even for purely selfish reasons of secrecy and safety, it makes no sense for the Cullens to move back to the ONE AREA where there are people who know what they are. Absolute clown shoes. But Author Choice because story needed to happen).

Author choices aren't necessarily bad. When you're writing a story you have to make choices. Part of the job. Where you run into trouble is when it seems to go against what the characters would choose themselves.

SM had this dream about a beautiful vampire boy and a 'normal' human girl in a meadow and then she had to work backwards about how they met. And she picked 'high school' and then she had to justify it with the pretty clunky 'helps us blend in' stuff when it's clear that they make absolutely zero effort to actually blend in and are getting nothing fulfilling out of this experience. They could say they are homeschooled. They could just chill at the house and not be in public at all. They could say they are in and/or actually go to college, which at least offers the chance to tailor your experience more: American high school over and over again is going to cover most of the same stuff. In college you can pick different majors, different electives. More variety, more choice. But Edward has to be in high school to meet Bella in bio class. Author choice.

It feels like "I want them in high school" and then tried to force it, which is very different from saying, "okay I have this group of vampires with physical ages ranging from 17 to 26, how do I think they would live?" and looking at it from the characters' POV, from which high school is just obviously the worst, most nonsensical option.

I think the other part is the Bella-centricity of it all. They have to be in school because Bella is in school. Would not be surprised at all if SM decides that going forward they don't repeat high school anymore because now Edward and Bella are Adults and Married so it would be weird; but oh hey, aren't Rosalie/Emmett and Alice/Jasper also married adults and they still had to do it? Sure but they aren't the main character.

#asks

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cjsmalley · 1 day ago

Text

A New Goddaughter:

The Doctor and Rose went out first, holding hands as always.

That, more than anything else they might have said or done, convinced the Royal couple and Tucker of the Doctor’s identity, even in a new face.

Anyone could claim the title, but Rose would only be with the true Doctor.

After reintroductions were done with, and the three admired the Doctor’s new face, he spoke, “We’ve actually a favor to ask you.”

He seemed tired and Rose joined him in the exhaustion as she said, “We…accidentally, mind, kidnapped a little girl. Human. Seven years old. From 1996, England.”

“How do you accidentally kidnap someone?” Danny questioned harshly.

“It was supposed to be twelve hours,” the Doctor replied with a small whine.

Everyone who knew him facepalmed, before Sam asked, “How long was she—?”

“Twelve years an’ countin’, Rose sighed, “saw the missing persons papers before we let her out. Means we can’t just take her back. ‘Sides, the TARDIS an’ Bad Wolf are both sayin’ this’s a better Timeline than what could’ve happened.”

“So, what’s the favor?” Tucker asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.

“We want you lot to be her godparents from outside our universe,” the Doctor said seriously, “we’ve already named godparents on the inside, Jack and Sarah Jane, but like with Jenny, we want somewhere outside to stash her if another Davros situation occurs.”

“This is all legal?”

“As legal as can be,” Rose nodded, “UNIT laid the groundwork for a false record. She’s not Amelia Pond anymore. She’s Amelia Wolfe, born in Scotland, parents are dead so we’ve adopted her. Family friends, see. Lots of other smaller details are still being worked out, but that’s the gist of it. And she’s got records in Pete’s world too now, with their Torchwood. Bit easier since she died as a baby there.”

“We’ll get the paperwork going on our end then,” Tucker whipped out his beloved PDA and started the process.

“So,” Sam spoke, “we do need to meet her.”

“Right here, Aunt Sam,” Jenny emerged from the TARDIS, leading a little redheaded girl by the hand.

The little girl seemed nervous.

“Turns out, Amy’s afraid of ghosts,” Jenny said casually, “so I promised her, crossed both hearts and everything, that Uncle Danny’s a nice ghost. That all his staff and friendly ghosts won’t hurt her. If she ever meets a mean ghost she can call Uncle Danny, ‘cause he’s the King of Ghosts, and he’d deal with ‘em.”

Danny stood up and walked down to meet them, crouching, “Jenny’s right, I’m a very nice ghost as long as you’re a very nice person,” he said before sticking out a hand, “Danny Phantom, it’s very nice to meet you, Amy.”

Cautiously, Amy shook his hand, becoming braver when he did nothing to her but shake her hand.

Danny, still holding her hand, stood up and led her closer to the double thrones and Tucker’s more modest seat, “And these are my wife, Sam, and our best friend, Tucker. They’re human.”

Amy looked up at Sam in astonishment, “You married a ghost?”

Sam chuckled, leaving her throne, “Well, he wasn’t a ghost when I fell for him. ‘Sides, Danny isn’t even fully ghost.”

Danny nodded when Amy’s head whipped back to him, “That’s right, I’m still half-human. I was in a terrible accident years ago. Shoulda killed me dead. It didn’t—at least, not all the way.”

Letting go of her hand, he shifted back to his human form, “Danny Fenton, nice to meet you.”

Amy blinked.

“In fact, let’s meet another ghost,” Danny put his pinkies to his mouth and whistled sharply before shouting, “Cujo! Here boy!”

A ginormous green dog bounded up, ginormous, as big as a house, and Amy cowered behind the Doctor and Rose.

“Father?” said a boy’s voice as a boy slid from the ghost dog’s back before the dog shrank to a puppy.

“Good going, Danny!” Sam said, swatting the back of his head, before she said to the boy, “Dami, the Doctor and Rose brought their new daughter to meet us but she’s afraid of ghosts. Your father thought it a good idea to introduce her to Cujo, without checking his form.”

“Father,” Damian sighed, before spotting Amy and holding out a hand, “I am Damian Fenton-Manson; I assure you that Cujo is mostly harmless…he is a guard dog after all.”

Amy slowly took his hand, coming from behind her adoptive parents, “I go by Amy, Amy Wolfe now. Your dad’s a ghost.”

“Well met, Amy Wolfe,” Damian led her towards the green puppy, “and yes, I know. Father is kind and caring, strict when needed. He is just like anyone living, merely half-dead. Cujo is our family dog…Cujo, sit.”

Cujo sat like a good boy and Damian, Amy at his side, knelt.

It took some coaxing, but Amy finally let Cujo sniff her hand; he then leapt into her lap, front paws on her chest, to lick her face.

Amy giggled, “He’s just a dog!”

“Yes, merely a dead dog,” Damian affirmed, “many ghosts are just as Cujo is; if they were kind in life then they will likely be kind in death, if they were unkind in life…”

“They’re mean ghosts.” Amy finished.

Damian nodded, “Yes; sometimes death, eternity will change a person. For example, the ghost we shall refer to as Grandfather was, in one life, a god-like being. He heard a prophecy that a child of his loins would overthrow his throne. So he ate his children.”

“What?”

“Oh, yes; as godlings themselves they survived until the day their youngest brother, once secreted away by their mother, slew the tyrant god, slicing open his abdomen and freeing his siblings. However, in another incarnation, into your universe no less, he was a Time Lord. A forefather of the Doctor. He helped found Gallifreyian society, the Doctor’s culture.”

Amy’s eyes were large as she looked between Damian and the Doctor.

Before she could say anything, another ghost appeared, storming into the room.

Amy froze as the ghost—a woman with blue flames for hair and a guitar slung across her back—marched up to Danny without fear, “What’s this about a new kid, Babypop?” she demanded.

“A new goddaughter, Amy, Ember,” Danny replied, pointing out Amy with Damian and Cujo, “and she’s currently afraid of ghosts—”

Ember arched an eyebrow, “You—the half-ghost Ghost King—have a goddaughter afraid of ghosts?”

“Yeah, and you’re not helping!”

Ember spun on her heel, spotted the children and dog, and softened; taking careful, calm steps, she knelt before Amy.

“Hey, kiddo,” Ember said sweetly but not patronizingly, holding out a blue tinted hand, “You can call me Ember. I work for King Babypop over there.”

“Miss Ember is Father’s bard,” Damian explained as Amy hesitantly shook hands with the ghost, “that mean it is her duty to create songs about the royal family’s deeds and heritage, the deeds of our ancestors if there are any to sing about. She also functions as an advisor—”

“See, the King was never trained for any kingly stuff,” Ember nodded, “so I translate a lot of the double-talk the lower kings and queens and Court tries to get by him. Meaning, I tell him when he’s doing something wrong or against ghost culture or someone’s insulting him or any royal. He’s getting better at catching stuff himself; helps his wife was basically trained for all this fancy high society bull. Mostly, I get paid to write music as long as I don’t hypnotize someone on purpose without Royal Permission and people have to listen to my music because I’m the Royal Bard.”

She whipped her guitar around her body and made up a quick ditty about the Doctor from what she knew of his exploits before shrugging, “See?”

Amelia was smiling shyly, “Brilliant.”

“So, King Babypop’s probably gonna give you his personal comm-line number, it’s like a phone and phone number,” Ember said, “he gives all the kids he considers his a special phone and his personal number. Everyone does. But, I actually like you, Amy, so here,” Ember pulled a business card from her pocket and handed it to Amy, “my personal number. If you’re ever in real trouble and need a quick rescue, call me and I’ll be there.”

“We did tell you there are nice ghosts,” Damian spoke up suddenly, “Miss Ember is one of them.”

“Thank you, Miss Ember,” Amy said shyly.

Ember smiled and nodded, standing up to give the room a lazy salute before leaving.

Over the next few hours, Amy was introduced to many ghosts, who were all nice, and slowly became comfortable with them being around, talking to her.

“This’s the Royal Nanny, Clara” Danny introduced the latest ghost to arrive; a young, blue-tinted woman with blue-tinted dark hair and matching eyes.

“If something big is happening, that needs all-hands-on-deck,” Danny continued “but we need someone watching the kids, Clara does it. So, she might watch after you occasionally.”

“We trust Clara with our lives and afterlives,” Sam spoke up, nursing her baby, Anakin, as she did so, “she’s one of the nicest ghosts we know.”

Clara smiled and personally introduced herself, “Hi, Amy. I’m Clara, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Has anyone given you a tour of the Palace?”

Amy shook her head.

But the Doctor coughed lightly, “That’ll have to wait another day, Miss Clara; the TARDIS’ getting restless,” he looked apologetic, “She still doesn’t like the Realms.”

Clara nodded in understanding.

The small, time travelling family said their goodbyes, Amy now brave enough to give Danny a hug which he returned warmly, and entered the TARDIS.

They left through a portal back to their universe.

Danny met Sam and Tucker’s eyes and chuckled, turning to Damian, “Made a new friend?”

“I promised Jenny I would,” Damian nodded seriously, “soon I must introduce her to Jonathan.”

“Next time.”

“Yes, Father.”

Wished Away 9

Tylers meet Phantoms:

“Christ, Mum,” Rose said as she took in how Jackie, Pete, and Tony were dressed, “we’re just meetin’—”

“Royalty!” Jackie squeaked. They were all done up like they were meeting the Queen at Buckingham Palace itself!

“Honestly, Mum, they don’t care,” Rose rolled her eyes, grabbing her mother’s wrist and tugging her through the console room and to the wardrobe room, “I told ya ta dress casually. Let’s just hope the Ol’ Girl has clothes fer ya.”

It took about an hour to get everyone redressed, in things much more casual but still nice, before Rose led them back to the console room.

Jackie was clearly anxious, “Are ya—”

“’m sure, Mum. Danny an’ Sam don’t do formal unless they have ta. Unless you’re an annoying subject or someone threatenin’ war, ya don’t even have ta call ‘em by their titles. They’re just Danny an’ Sam ta family.”

“Lookie what I found,” Jenny bounded from the innards of the TARDIS, holding a tiny bike helmet.

She went to her toddler uncle and put it on him, making sure it fit right, “Landings in the Realms are worse than normal ones. The TARDIS does Her best but the Realms give her…nausea? A headache? She just doesn’t do good.”

“Oh, goody,” Jackie said lowly, hugging a strut for dear life already.

“Let me protect Anthony,” Bad Wolf came out, holding out her arms; without hesitation, Pete handed his son over.

Bad Wolf settled Tony in her arms, against her chest and shoulder, and then spread her feet and crouched slightly, clearly bracing for impact; she stayed steady even as the TARDIS began Her flight.

Everyone else was thrown about the console room, the Doctor and Jenny barely holding on to work the console, but Bad Wolf and Tony did not move an inch.

The landing was rough, just as Jenny said it would be, throwing even the Time Lords to the grated floor before the TARDIS stopped quaking.

Jenny recovered first and stood up, rubbing her shoulder, to peek out the doors, “We’re in the Palace. Uncle Danny and Aunt Sam are waiting…”

Slowly, everyone picked themselves up and Rose reemerged, straightening with some popping from her knees.

Jenny led the procession out, racing to hug a man and a woman, “Uncle Danny, Aunt Sam! How’re you?”

Danny and Sam chuckled and hugged her as one, “Good, doing good. You?”

“Perfect!”

She let go of them to drag Jackie, who was hesitant, forward, “This’s my Gran, Jackie. Mum’s side, duh. Completely human. He’s my step-granddad, Pete, and Mum’s holding my uncle, Tony.”

“Yer Majesties,” Jackie tried to curtsy even though she was in trousers, “an honor ta—”

“Oh, enough,” Sam chuckled, “didn’t they tell you? We don’t do formalities with family.”

“Family?” Jackie’s eyes were wide, “I know Rose said—but—”

“We count Clockwork as family,” Danny explained, “and he’s claimed the Doctor as family. The Doctor and Jenny. Rose’s basically married in by this point. Common-law, you understand. That makes her family our family. Welcome to the Palace, your home in the Infinite Realms.”

“My god,” Pete muttered, somewhat disbelieving.

“Not a god, not yet anyways,” Danny winked.

“Where’s Dani?” Jenny burst out, “Is she still in school?”

Sam grinned, “With Anakin, in the nursery. We let her stay home today.”

“Oh, Gran! Can I introduce Tony to Anakin? Please!” Jenny nearly begged.

“Anakin’s our youngest,” Danny explained kindly, “around Tony’s age, actually. We also have a nanny looking after them, Nanny Clara. He’d be perfectly safe.”

“Well…” Jackie looked to her husband, who nodded, “if you’re sure.”

Jenny cheered and took Tony from Rose, dashing off with him deeper into the Palace.

“Jenny knows the Palace as well as anyone,” Sam assured, “and if she gets lost, she can flag down a servant for help. She’s heading directly for the nursery. It’s the most defensible part of the Palace.

Danny stood up, helping Sam, “C’mon, we can talk over food; stay close, Tylers. Doctor?”

“Rose and I can bring up the rear,” the Doctor agreed, taking Rose’s hand as they began walking.

The Palace was a gothic masterpiece, in a very literal sense, though even Sam had wearied of all the gloom and had sought artists and artwork to fill the halls, soft, plush carpets and tapestries to keep the warmth, glassworks to fill the once barred windows. Statues and busts dotted the hallways, some classical, some avant garde

Masters had given their masterpieces, their magnum opuses; they were paid handsomely of course, in either coin or material.

Oils, watercolors, acrylics, textiles, glass, all created for Her Majesty the Ghost Queen. For His Majesty the Ghost King.

It wasn’t yet a riot of color, nor would it ever be, but it was more alive.

Jackie gasped and the group stopped, turning as one to see what had captured her attention.

“When they said the family was huge…”

Ah, it was the most recent family portrait; all the children were gathered around Danny and Sam, all in formal wear.

“We…sometimes people sell the souls of children to me,” Danny started, causing her and Pete to whip around to him in horror, “I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it? But anyways, we adopt the kids. Only Dani—Danielle—isn’t adopted.”

He pointed out each child and gave their backstory.

“Good Lord, you were young!” Pete said at Damian’s story.

“Old enough to be king,” Danny shrugged helplessly, “it…it wasn’t easy, we had help, so much help, and we made mistakes…”

“All parents do,” Jackie told him softly.

“So we’ve been told,” Sam smiled just as softly, “and we’ve learned and made new ones with each kid.”

Danny coughed and continued to point out kids and tell stories, until all had been covered and then they moved on.

As they neared the dining room, Danielle and Jenny joined them with each holding a toddler.

“Oh my,” Jackie said, taking in the Anakin Skywalker; she knew who he grew up to be, or would have if he had not been adopted.

“We’re hungry, Dad,” Danielle said.

Danny waved them into the dining room where the smaller table was already set for a meal; there were two chairs with booster seats and Jenny and Danielle put Tony and Anakin in them before sitting beside them and helping them get food.

The group chatted over the meal, Jackie and Pete slowly relaxing at how easy going the Royals were, and generally had good cheer.

After the meal was done, Jenny asked, “Do we put their photo up on the family wall now? I know you’ve got me, Dad, and Mum…”

Danny chuckled, “We can, if they’re okay with it.”

“Family wall?” Pete questioned.

“We keep walls of pictures of the extended family,” Sam explained easily, “you know, like Rose, the Doctor, and Jenny. Harry’s and Neville’s parents. Damian’s paternal birth-family. The Royal Portrait is just the immediate royal family. The walls are for everyone and everything else.”

Danny and Sam led the group out of the dining room and down another hallway; the walls were plastered with photographs. Some were professional, most were candid and amateur.

A common camera sat on a small round table; a high-end camera but nothing too expensive or professional.

Danny picked it up, saying, “If Jackie, Pete, and Tony don’t mind—”

Jackie decided it would be a family photograph and dragged the Doctor in; Rose and Jenny came without complaint.

Danny took a set of pictures.

After that was done, it was decided it was time for the Tylers to leave, taking pity on the still disgruntled TARDIS.

They were, however, invited to the next family gathering.

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gravedwe11er · 3 days ago

Text

Echoes through the cosmos

The final part of my Mecha AU coswave fic is done! It took me a while, but here it is. Parts one and two can be found here, and I hope you enjoy!

AU by @keferon and the base idea came from my friend @cosmique-oddity

Things are changing for Cosmos, in more ways than one. It doesn't have to be a bad thing.

“Greetings, little watcher,” comes from his headphones, completely out of nowhere, and Cosmos nearly stumbles on the treadmill.

“Good morning, big watcher,” he teases back, and blames the beginning of a blush spreading across his face on the exercise.

A staticky crackle carries through the tiny speakers. “Designation: Soundwave.” says the mech firmly, and Cosmos can’t help but burst into laughter.

Things have been better lately. That first bit of honesty seems to have opened the floodgates, and Soundwave’s voice is now a near-constant companion in his ear. The mech still prefers texting or using his vocal modulator, but every now and then, Cosmos gets to hear the real him, and he treasures every instance accordingly. And if Soundwave’s smooth, almost melodic voice inspires some slightly embarrassing thoughts at times? Well, that’s nobody’s business but his own, really.

“Just returning the favor, Soundwave,” he says, putting emphasis on the name. “It’s only fair to have a nickname for you too, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Correction: greetings, Cosmos.”

Cosmos snorts. “Alright, alright, I see how it is. But I am going to find a nickname you like eventually, you know. Or, well- at least tolerate.”

“Negative,” comes over the speakers, deadpan as all get out. Cosmos just smiles again, shaking his head, before returning to his exercise.

Yeah, things are good.

“Waves.” Cosmos tries, impish grin on his face.

[Designation: Soundwave.]

“Soundy.”

[Negative.]

“Alright, alright,” he says between barely suppressed giggles. “Wavey?”

“No.”

“Sounders!”

The entire screen blacks out. “Wait, no, come back, I’m sorry-“

“Do your people have entertainment media? Books, movies, that sort of thing?”

[Affirmative,] appears on a mostly empty screen in front of him- it’s been a calm couple of days, the equipment not registering anything of import and leaving more than enough time for…well, whatever he wants, really. [Written works: currently most commonplace due to prolonged conflict. Holofilms available: old or amateurly produced.]

“Oh! Yeah, that makes sense. Hollywood has slowed down production as well, quite a bit in the past years.” Getting attacked and smashed to smithereens several times over hadn’t helped much. They’ve always recovered though, actors and writers refusing to give up their art, even if their budgets were cut down severely. “What do you like, then? How do you spend your free time?”

[Free time: rare commodity.] Soundwave writes, and he chuckles because right, fair enough. Head communications officer for an army at war, with four kind-of-not-really kids? That’s got to be busy.

Still, though. “I understand, but surely there’s something you enjoy? Got a favorite book, or a poem?”

“Soundwave: partial to music.” A pause. Then- “Would you like to hear some?”

The offer, along with Soundwave’s real voice, make Cosmos’ heart pick up the pace. Alien music! He’s about to hear real, actual music from another planet! Nodding, he turns to the camera behind him and gives the mech a giddy smile.

Soon enough, a gentle melody begins pouring out of his headphones, and- whatever he’s expected, it was not this. The song - or composition, more like - is alien, oddly complex and unbelievably beautiful.

There are no lyrics, he doesn’t think, but the interplay of different instruments still seems to tell a tale as the song progresses, changing and twisting on itself. It makes him think of two people, of a longing he finds so familiar, of warm clasped hands and stolen moments between the cold of melancholy. He sits in his chair, silent and entranced, as the melody goes through a crescendo, a painful conflict, before mellowing and fading out, like a peaceful embrace of two souls, now finally united for good.

When it’s all over, seconds or minutes or hours later, his vision is blurry with unshed tears. At the other end of the call, he could almost swear he feels Soundwave’s presence, watching him, sharing this moment with him.

Cosmos feels warm.

“Thank you,” he whispers into the receiver, wiping at his eyes but smiling, and he feels more than hears Soundwave’s answering hum. “Could you play it again?” he asks after a few minutes, and when the melody fills his ears once more, he simply closes his eyes and lets himself be carried away.

“I forgot to ask before, but was that Cybertronian music?”

“Negative,” comes through his headphones. “Composition: created by organic species.”

“Oh!” he wasn’t really expecting that, but then again, maybe it should have. it didn’t sound very, ah, mechanical? “Do you have any more from the composer? Or at least the same people?”

“Soundwave: in possession of one more unfinished melody from composer. Cosmos: interested in listening?”

“Gladly. Why was it not finished, though, do you know? Did something happen to the composer?”

“Affirmative. Species: nearly eradicated by quintesson forces. Creator of piece: deceased.”

Oh. That’s- he doesn’t know what to say. He’d never really given much thought to how other species might have fared against the invasion. Or that they might have actually lost.

“I’d still like to hear it, I think,” he says quietly. There’s nothing he can do for them now, for these aliens he’d never even met, but- he can remember them, at least. Keep a tiny piece of them alive through this.

As the new melody surrounds him with its unearthly tones, Cosmos wonders what Soundwave would keep of humans, if they lose this fight. What Soundwave would keep of him.

It dwells on his mind for weeks after, filling his empty hours with maudlin thoughts. He knows by now how unbelievably long a cybertronian’s life is, that his own lifespan is but a speck of dust by comparison, but still. Would the mech keep his face in his memory banks, or the human music playlist he’d made for him? Would he carry a piece of Cosmos with him into the distant stars, keep him close to his spark, or would all they shared be forgotten?

How much does this - whatever they have - matter?

Because it matters to Cosmos. He’s not sure when that happened, but his fascination with the alien mech and enjoyment of his company became- more. Much more. Now, when his soul aches for the presence of another person, it’s not his friends on earth he imagines being held by, or his parents. It’s large silver servos, careful and precise. it’s staring up at a glowing red visor and watching the sun gleam of grey and blue plating. It’s just- Soundwave.

And, well. What is he supposed to do with that?

He knows Soundwave likes him, yes. Enjoys his company, sure, he wouldn’t bother talking with him so frequently otherwise. But is there more to it? Soundwave is a hard person to read, especially with their only method of communication being text and radio. Cosmos had no way to know if he’s like a- a pleasant coworker to the mech, or a true companion, someone actually important.

He doesn’t know, but by god does he hope.

The song they’re listening to comes to an end, bringing Cosmos out of his thoughts. And, yeah, that’s something they do now, listen to music together, looking for things the other might enjoy. That’s… that could mean something, right? Only people who actually care about each other do that, no?

A surprisingly loud, staticky hiss sounds in his ears all of a sudden, and Cosmos flinches. “Soundwave, what-“

“Lost light: arrival impending.”

“Wh- really? When?”

“ETA: thirteen hours local time.”

Oh.

Of course.

It’s just- over the past two months, he’d somehow managed to completely forget about incoming the ship. He’d been so focused on his growing relationship with Soundwave that the knowledge of why the mech was actually here slipped his mind. Now, with reality of the situation staring him in the face, a jittery sort of dread fills his heart.

“Soundwave,” he says, wringing his hands in his lap, “how’s- what’s going to happen now?”

“Negotiation: will begin with human governments. Jazz: will be returned home, accompanied by Prowl.”

This is the first time he’s hearing of this Prowl person, and he will ask later, but- “And what about you? What will you do now?”

“Soundwave: will remain on Earth, join negotiation process.” There’s a pause, then- “I do not wish to cease our interactions, even once my work here is done. If you call, I will always listen, friend Cosmos.”

And- it’s a relief, hearing that. A huge weight falls off of Cosmos’ shoulders, joy making his heart beat overtime, however- things will undeniably change now. Their mostly quiet, familiar routine won’t last once first contact begins in earnest, and they’ll both be busy with their respective work. He’s delighted to hear he won’t lose Soundwave’s voice in his ear, but-

His stay at the station ends in less than two weeks. He won’t get to actually see Soundwave, most likely, not again. Won’t ever be this close to him again, not in person. And that’s- he thinks of the emergency repair space suit shoved in the storage compartment, of the ticking clock, and makes a decision.

“Soundwave? You said you edited yourself out of footage in real time, when you first arrived here, right? Could you do it again?”

“Affirmative. Query: reason for question?”

“I just- there’s something I need to do.”

He approaches the station, gliding through the vacuum of space with ease. It’s a tiny thing, as many earth things are- barely bigger than him in root mode. He’s once again reminded of an earth saying, stating that good things come in small packages, and though he’s not fully certain of its original, intended meaning, he finds himself agreeing nonetheless.

Watching the precious, fragile little person climbing out of the hatch with anxious, unpracticed motions, it feels truer than ever before.

The man’s suit is a colorful thing, yellow and green with red accents, his head surrounded by a fragile looking bubble of glass, protecting him from certain death in the cold, airless void. His hair is a bright, cheerful red as well, only outshined by the force of his smile as pushes off the hull of the station and into Soundwave’s waiting servos.

“Hello, little watcher,” he says, leaving the vocoder off and letting his true voice sound through the suit’s speakers.

Somehow, the human’s smile grows wider, and Soundwave feels his spark pulse with fondness. “Hello, Soundwave,” he says softly, blinking up at him with a combination of awe and unbridled joy. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

If it’s anything like what he feels, Soundwave thinks as he brings the man closer, gently pressing his forehelm to the top of Cosmos’ helmet, then he can probably imagine.

#transformers #tf mecha au #tf mecha universe #tf soundwave #tf cosmos #coswave #lastwrites

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taeaura · 23 hours ago

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Hey! I really like your posts.(Sorry for my bad English💔💔💔) And I feel so awkward asking you something..😭 Well, in general I was interested. Thomas is a very closed person and I was interested if it is AT ALL possible to get closer to him. Like, is this even possible? What would he value in a person? Or maybe there would be some rules when communicating with him and his family? Sorry if my question sounds stupid💔

Hi! Don't worry, your English is very good! This question isn't stupid at all - I think it's wonderful! Plus, it gives me more to work with which I always appreciate. I took this as an opportunity to introduce what life would be like as a Hewitt "guest" - Which I will expand on in future posts 🫀

Surviving Thomas {Hewitt} + The Family

Yay! You’ve survived the Hewitts - A real accomplishment if you ask me. Sure, you’re scratched up, bleeding, and traumatized but you’re alive, aren’t you? {Would’ve been better to die, but..can’t do much about that now.}

____

The Family

Communicating with the family? That's not gonna be as hard. Submission and respect is what they accept - Nothing but.

First of all, you’re not automatically “family” just because you survived - You’re a “guest” captive. You’ll join them for dinner, you will NOT interrupt prayer; You’ll do chores, specifically the tedious or strenuous ones: Cleaning bathrooms, helping with laundry, dusting {the house definitely needs it}, getting Thomas for dinner, tending to the animals, dishes, ironing clothes - Anything to help the family. You will do as you’re told. If you don’t, they won’t hesitate to penalize you.

Be prepared to give up all your belongings and morals. Everything they want, they’ll get. Books, clothing, food, MONEY, it’s theirs. If you have weapons, Hoyt is taking those IMMEDIATELY - They’re his now.

You will eat. Do not waste food, time, money, anything. The Hewitts have little as is, don’t decrease their chances of survival.

If you’re fem-presenting, watch for Hoyt and Monty. Both are sexual deviants with no respect for women outside the family. From what I’ve seen in the films, Hoyt tends to prefer blondes - I don’t see Monty as caring too much. Just like he did with Erin, Monty will ask for “help” when you two are alone.

“Can you help me grab that?” - “Could you help me get up?” - “Could you pick this up for me?”

Anything that gives him room to grope. He’ll try to trip you and lift your clothes with his cane, too.

Back to Hoyt,

Hoyt’s a piece of shit, but he’s not as bad once you’re “family.” It’ll start off very rocky - Calling you slurs, being physically, verbally, mentally, emotionally abusive, trying to grope and rub-up you {if you’re fem-presenting}, VERY little trust, and lots of belittling remarks.

“I don’t know what {whoever spared you} saw in you” - “One word, and I’ll get Tommy to chop your pretty ass up n’ serve you on this very dining table” - “What the hell are you doing? You ain’t doing it right..asshole” - Lots of comparisons to livestock and hookers, and lots of “you fucking idiot!”

Once he's gotten used to you, he'll respect you a bit more. {If you've gotten close to Luda Mae or Thomas, he'll calm down}. If you're not a straight white woman, he'll call you a slur and frame it as a joke - It's not. He respects those who're part of the family, but that doesn't mean he wont ridicule you when you {or a victim} pisses him off. The easiest way to gain his respect is work. When he sees you working your ass off for the family, he'll slowly but surely gain respect for you. It may not seem like it, but Hoyt Charlie does care. He'll protect you from whatever once you're part of the family..but he'll still be 'tough love'.

You’ll have the best luck with Henrietta - She’s the least likely to get violent or judgy if you aren’t judgemental to her. You won’t see her too often - But when you do, don’t get confrontational {this goes for every family member}. The Tea Lady {Kathryn} Won’t do much harm either. She’s not too confrontational, only minor teasing with other family members. When she comes over for tea with Luda Mae, don’t interrupt unless you’re spoken to.

OFFER AS MUCH AS YOU CAN !! If you see Luda doing housework, offer to help. At the scene around 1:12:00 in TCM: The Beginning, when Hoyt’s in the kitchen with Luda Mae - At around 1:12:20 when she says “I’ll go set the table”, it would be best if YOU offered to set the table. Preferably before she announces that she will. Recognize their routine, incorporate yourself by helping out when you can.

One of the biggest, most influential things you could do is warn the family when something happens. For example; in TCM:The Beginning, at around 1:16:55 {when Chrissie grabs the knife?} You should immediately either A.) Tell Hoyt; Or B.) Run after/Yell for Thomas. This will prove to them that you care about the family, their safety, and how they operate. That will automatically bring you closer to becoming a “member” of the family.

It’s easier to become part of the family if you’re: A woman {Luda wants a daughter}, a Christian, submissive, quiet, hardworking, or NICE TO THOMAS !!

This doesn’t mean you have to compliment Thomas or be attracted to him - Just don’t alienate him, stare excessively, or give him judgmental looks / remarks.

{if you’ve gotten close to Luda Mae}

When she starts talking about Tommy, that’s a good sign. ESPECIALLY in relation to you.

“Y'know, Tommy’s really starting to take a liking to you.” = He’s stayed up thinking about you.

If she ever sends you to get Thomas, she’s trying to set you two up / get you two closer. If she likes you, she’ll connect you with Thomas.

She’s pretty kind to you - But she’s still strict. No wasting food, no defiance, no secrets, no shaming of the family {especially Thomas}, do as you’re told. If you’re not busy, she’ll invite you to join her and Kathryn for tea sometimes. {Especially if you’re in a relationship with Thomas, they wanna know everything most things}.

Jedidiah just wants a friend. He's a lonely boy who will happily draw you {please praise it, he needs some.} He gets hurt often {cuts, bruises, scabs}, he's outside a lot. You might be asked to babysit, which if you do, be prepared. He's a bit of a chatterbox if he likes you. Draw together, pose for his portraits, and let him ramble about whatever's on his mind. {You could try to get family information out of him, but butter him up first.} This will also help you get closer to Luda Mae and Thomas - Showing care for Jedidiah is a good sign that you're not a total asshole.

____

Thomas

Thomas is closed off for a few reasons: Previous trauma, anxiety, insecurity, and "fear" of outsiders. One of the easiest ways to get closer to him is by showing respect to the family. If you don't cause chaos, he’ll be less antsy around you. Especially if you get close to his mother. Be patient with him, please. He’s trying his best. Leave him alone when he’s stressed or really upset - He’ll usually storm off to his room or the basement. He needs time to himself, be mindful of that. Thomas, in his nature, is introverted. This doesn’t mean he hates people - He’s just very cautious.

You don’t necessarily have to compliment Thomas, but it’ll definitely help him weaken his guard. I.E; “I like your mask{s}” is a wonderful place to start. Even if you don’t like his masks, complimenting his work is the easiest way for him to reconsider how he views you.

He LIVES for praise. {This connects to the compliments} - Compliment his strength, his stature, his craft, how he provides for the family. STAND UP FOR HIM !!! Oh my god, and PLEASE thank him for things. For example, if he gets something for you, please say ‘Thank you’, it’ll mean so much to him. He just needs lots of praise and appreciation.

If you’re ever serving dinner, give him a bigger portion. He’ll appreciate it.

If you ever find things he might like {CD’s, Jewelry, BONES, Needles, Thread} anything he can craft with, give it. It’ll further weaken his protective walls and show that you’re one of the very few people who’s genuinely interested in Thomas.

When attempting to have a conversation with Thomas, do it when he’s not busy - And when he’s not too tired. At the dinner table? Not the greatest option; Hoyt will be eavesdropping and Thomas is focused on eating. Maybe after dinner - If no “guests” are around. If you’re gonna ask him questions, it’s preferred if they’re ‘yes/no’ questions. Something easy and quick for him to answer.

As soon as he starts loosening his guard, softening his gaze, staring at you / acknowledging you more, and doing things for you; You’re in. He’s semi-comfortable with you. When he’s really comfortable around you, he’ll treat you as if you’ve always been here. More touchy {depending on what type of relationship you two have}, open to conversation, less likely to guard his things; Just generally calmer around you. Oh, and he’ll be very protective :) {Hoyt and Monty will be deterred}.

Ask him how he's doing - He may not always respond but it's a start. Bring him water, don't get in the way of his work, give him his space, compliment / praise / acknowledge him, and let Thomas grow at his own pace. The best things take time, especially relationships {of any kind}. Mutual respect is key 🫀

____

I hope this answers your question! If it doesn't {or you have more questions}, please let me know! Thank you for the ask <3

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v4mpire45 · 2 hours ago

Text

The Things He Doesn't Know — K. Bakugo

This is a series, so part one is right here!

☞ Link: Part 1.

Bakugo x Jealous female reader

Synopsis: When you realize you're in love with your childhood best friend, but force you're feeling's down for the sake of your friendship.

You shove your food around your plate as Kimiko talks about Bakugo. All the girls from Class 2-A are gathered at the lunch table, a meeting orchestrated by Kimiko herself to continue plotting ways to get closer to him.

But instead of actual planning, it's just been Bakugo this, Bakugo that.

Seriously, how much could one girl be this obsessed with him? He’s not that great.

Sure, he’s strong, ambitious, intelligent, self-assured, has a cool quirk, and an insane work ethic, but he’s just a boy. The same Katsuki you've known since childhood. The one who used to steal your snacks, push you into puddles, and wipe his snot on your sleeve. He’s seriously not as cool as she’s making him out to be.

Kimiko’s face flushes as she gushes about him, and there it is again, that same twisted feeling in your gut. You furrow your brows subtly, huffing under your breath.

"Y/N?"

Ochaco’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah?" You rub the back of your neck, trying to shake off the building irritation.

"Kimiko asked you a question."

You blink, glancing at Kimiko, who looks at you expectantly.

"Oh, uh… sorry. What was that?"

Kimiko leans forward eagerly. "Remember what I asked on Sunday? Did you manage to get any info on how to get closer to him?"

You swallow hard. "Oh, uh… not really."

Kimiko frowns. "None? You didn’t talk to him like I asked?"

"No, no! I did. He just didn’t say much. Y’know how he is…" You chuckle awkwardly. Truth is, you hadn't asked, and you didn't plan to.

"Well, did you at least figure out his type?" She leans in further, eyes wide with curiosity.

You freeze. "Uh, not really… he doesn’t talk about that stuff with me."

Kimiko tilts her head, looking mildly frustrated. "What do you mean? You two are like best friends!"

"Calm down, Kimiko. I’m sure Y/N has a reasonable explanation," Yaoyorozu says gently, pulling Kimiko back into her seat.

You clear your throat, scrambling for an excuse. "Right, um… well, me and Bakugo just don’t talk about crushes or relationships, y’know?"

"Right, ‘cause you’re both losers," Mina teases, earning a round of giggles.

You roll your eyes. "Something like that. You’d probably have better luck asking Kirishima." Anything to get out of this conversation.

Kimiko immediately shakes her head. "No way! Kirishima can’t keep a secret to save his life."

"True," all six girls say in unison.

You shrug. "Sorry?" You return to poking at your food, hoping they drop it.

The conversation shifts back to their matchmaking schemes, but before you can stop yourself, the words slip out of your mouth.

"Why do you like him? He’s just Bakugo."

Silence.

All eyes snap to you.

You internally panic. Crap.

"I—I mean, what do you find so great about him? Just curious, y’know… hehe…" You force out a nervous laugh, attempting to backtrack.

Kimiko lights up, her blush deepening. "Oh, don’t get me started!"

And just like that, she’s off again, gushing about how strong and passionate and amazing he is.

You suppress an eye twitch.

"Don’t you think you could do better?" The words slip out before you can stop them.

Mina nudges you playfully. "Jeez, Y/N, no need to lay it on so thick!"

You force a smile. "Sorry, sorry… I just feel like maybe… Sero is more your type?"

Kimiko pauses, blinking. "Sero?" She turns slightly, glancing over at Bakugo’s table, where Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero are eating.

She hums in thought. "I mean… he’s not bad, but he’s not Bakugo."

You exhale sharply. Figures.

"You sound a tad jealous, Y/N. You alright?" Jirou teases, smirking.

Your body goes into overdrive.

"Me?! Like Bakugo? That’s CRAZY!"

You slap the table, bursting into a fit of overly dramatic laughter. Heads turn from other tables, your friends exchanging confused glances.

Jirou blinks. "I was just joking… I know you don’t like him."

You force yourself to calm down, waving a hand. "Oh, uh, right. Silly me."

The conversation shifts again, but you can feel Mina’s eyes on you, suspicion clear on her face.

You force your usual smile, hoping to throw her off.

It seems to work, for now.

In the corner of your eye, you spot Bakugo sitting with Kirishima and the others. His crimson gaze meets yours across the cafeteria, and for a second, you forget how to breathe.

Then, in typical Bakugo fashion, he gives you a slight nod.

You nod back, turning quickly to stare at your plate.

Dammit.

What the hell were you going to do?

Tags: @pet1t3

#boku no hero academia #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou #female reader #female protagonist #bnha bakugo katsuki #jealousy #jealous reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo mha #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki

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mikkomacko · 3 hours ago

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how is nico asking reader to be his valentine? 🤭

Sötis is bright and bubbly today, the Friday traffic mixed with Valentines rush making the little cafe a hot spot today. Which is part of the reason Jesper was so hesitant to take off this weekend, not wanting things to awry on such a big day for business. But his love for Nicole won out and their romantic trip to the Bahamas left you in charge of Sötis until Tuesday.

Jesper actually has a pretty good gig, you think. It’s fun getting to frost heart cookies for the display case or add candy pearls to the heart cakes. It’s fun making everyone’s strawberry flavored drinks and writing cute messages on the side.

And it’s really fun watching Timo woo every lady at the register with a complimentary rose. They all love him in his little red Sötis apron and his blue eyes, somehow pulling off that stupid white turtleneck only he could make look good.

Nico had said the same thing after you texted him a photo of Timo frosting cupcakes before opening this morning.

He wears that turtle neck way too often, he had said, and then few seconds later, at least he looks good though.

“Stella,” you call from the delivery side of the counter, the hot cup of raspberry tea with cream in hand. An elder woman toddles up to the counter, one of Timo’s roses clutched to her chest and you almost burst into sweet tears at the blush still on her cheeks and neck.

“Here you are,” you smile, carefully tucking her drink into her hand. “Have a happy Valentine’s Day!”

She giggles. “Thank you dear. Same to you, though I suppose it’s hard to have a bad one with him around.”

Stella motions to Timo still perched behind the register, a charming smile on his face and arms crossed over his chest. He wiggles his fingers at her, chuckling when she makes a flustered noise.

“Oh,that one’s not my valentine,” you laugh, “it seems he’s all yours though.”

She widens her eyes at you, shaking her head in amusement. “Who says you can’t have two?”

You can’t help but laugh, cracking up even harder when timo calls from behind the register. “Yeah, that’s my girl, Stella.”

Stella is still giggling to herself as she waves her rose at you in goodbye, heading back towards the door. She shoots Timo another smile and in the moment it takes her to look back the door is being opened for her, bell tinkling. Nico steps inside, still stretching over to hold it for her and Stella jumps a bit, peering up at Nico with her drink and rose in hand.

“Thank you,” she says to him and he smiles, cheeks dimpled and sweet.

“Of course, happy Valentine’s Day.” He says cheerily, and your heart does a little flip in your chest. Even more so when Stella peers back at you.

“They’re everywhere around here, oh my goodness.” She lightly fans herself, still in the doorway and crowded next to Nico’s chest. “I should’ve got my tea iced.”

You laugh, amused by the way Nico’s ears tinge red and he looks to you with wide eyes. “Yeah that one’s mine,” you explain, and her grin morphs into an impressed one.

She looks Nico up and down one last time, shaking her head and then waving her rose over her shoulder at you as she leaves. Nico finally steps all the way in, amused and a little embarrassed looking as he comes around the counter.

“Hi baby,” you greet, sharing a chaste kiss and turning to make more drinks before he can distract you. Nico doesn’t like that however, plastering himself to your back with a hand on your hip.

“That’s all I get?” He complains, looming behind you as you work. “Come on, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

You laugh innocently, hitching your hips back until your butt is pressed into him and he makes a shocked sound. “Fuck not like that.” He says, stepping back a bit.

“Oh,” you say casually, shifting around the seasoning rack for cinnamon. “Then how?”

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Come outside with me for a sec?”

You pause, turning to glare at him from over your shoulder. “I am not doing that outside,” you mutter under your breath, tensing when Luke wanders out from the kitchen with a fresh tray of baked goods.

“No that’s for later,” he snorts, then pats your hip again. You don’t get to answer before he’s taking the to-go cup from your hand, setting it back on the counter.

“Luke finish this when you’re done,” Nico instructs, “she’s taking a break.” Luke looks over, sly smile taking over his face and he nods.

What was that about?

Nico shuffles you off to the side, fingers then finding the knot on your apron and untying it for you. Laughing, you lift it over your head and fold it into a ball to rest on the counter.

Face to face with Nico again, he gives you a shy little smile, fingers fixing your baby hairs that have gotten mused while working. “Come on baby.” He says, taking your hand and leading you around the counter. His large frame parts the crowd of waiting patrons, and you slip in front of him so he can guide you to the door with a hand on your neck.

The bell above the door chimes as you exit, stepping into cool February air. Luckily your pink sweater is a fancy knit one Timo had helped you pick on a shopping day so it keeps you pretty warm.

“Alright, what are we doing Schao?”

He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t need to. From inside the cafe, you couldn’t see it. The window painting of hearts and flowers and Be Mine hearts had hidden the scene Nico has laid out on the cobblestone in front of you.

Moose is sitting pretty by a white patio table, the seating that usually gets packed in the summer and spring when everyone in Hoboken is wanting to be out and about. A headband with glittery red hearts sits behind his sagging ears, a knot of pink and red and white heart balloons tied to a weight by his feet. The cutest thing though has to be the bouquet of tulips resting daintily between his teeth, tilted a bit awkwardly.

“Aww Nico,” you gasp, hands covering your mouth as you whip around to look at him. He’s smiling, cheeks reddening. “This is so cute!”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he pleased and proud of his little plan. “Go tell Musli hi, he’s got some stuff for you.”

Eager, you take Nico’s hand and turn back towards Moose. His tail slowly wags behind him as you move closer, shifting anxious on his paws.

“Hello my baby,” you coo, crouching down to greet him. He whines impatiently and you giggle, taking the flowers from his mouth. They’re a little slimy with drool and it looks like a tooth may have nicked a leaf but you don’t care.

Moose licks at your hand as you reach out to pet his face and neck. Careful to not bump his headband, you wrap an arm around him in a hug, heart melting when he rests his head on your shoulder.

You pull back, holding your flowers to your chest as you smile over your shoulder to Nico. He’s got his phone out, biting at his bottom lip as he takes photos of you and Moose. Blushing, you smile a moment longer so he can get a good couple of shots before climbing to your feet.

“You’re the best,” you say to him, now throwing your free arm around his neck. His wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and lifting you onto your toes. “Thank you so much Nico.”

He bumps his nose against yours in response, leaning down to kiss you for real compared to that peck you gave him behind the counter. Pulling back just enough to speak, he mumbles into your lips.

“Read the card baby.”

Curios, you let go of him to look at your flowers. Sure enough tucked into the center of them is a pick with a white card, red little details etched into it. The name of a flowers shop sits on the card and you laugh at the little devil horns under the name.

“You give protection to a flower shop?”

Nico chuckles. “S’a good industry,” he defends, “plus the lady that runs it is from here. Support local and all that, ya know?”

It’s sweet. He’s so sweet. You pluck the card out, turning to read the other side. In Nico’s slanted handwriting, carefully written is the question of the day.

Will you be our Valentine? -Nico and Musli x

A choked cooing sound comes out of you, the fact that he signed the card from Moose too making your heart swell so big it hurts.

“Of course I will.” You laugh, rising back onto your toes to kiss him again. Nico’s hands hold you greedily, fingers slipping under your sweater to touch the skin of your lower back. You don’t pull away until Moose barks.

“I didn’t forget about you,” you tease, turning back to the table to go pet Moose. It’s now that you realize Nico has also set up a plate of chocolate cover fruits and marshmallows on the table top, a little red candle burning in the middle.

“Aww Nico,”

He moves to pull the chair out for you. “This is a break snack,” he explains, sitting across from you. You rest your flowers on the empty chair next to you, petting at Moose’s neck. “We’re having dinner tonight too.”

“Of course,” you agree, not surprised but still just as eager and flattered. “Anything else I should know about, Valentine?”

Nico laughs. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.” He assures. “Just know that the boys will probably keep stopping by today. Think they’ve all got something for you.”

You coo again, hand to your heart and Nico shakes his head. He tries to act annoyed by it, but his tone holds no real heat when he says, “I got to you first.”

“Yes you did.”

#mob boss nico hischier #him and i chats #nico hischier #him and I blurb #nico hischer x reader

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interstellarlyinlove · 1 day ago

Text

Heartbroken (Feb 16th)

word count: 531

@wolfstarmicrofic

Remus and Sirius are sitting across from each other in a cafe that serves the best breakfast Sirius has ever had. It’s absurdly early, the sun is not completely up in the sky, and the both of them are sweaty and miserable. At least, Sirius feels sweaty and miserable.

“Do you feel good right now?” Sirius asks, stirring sugar into his coffee.

Remus snorts. “I feel miserable.”

Sirius raises his cup of coffee for a pseudo toast. “Hear, hear.”

“Why would someone do something so energy consuming at five thirty in the morning?” Remus blinks, slumping in his chair. “I am so sore. And tired. How did you convince me to go?”

Sirius scoffs. “As if. It was your idea, darling babe. You wanted us to get into working out this year.” Sirius considers for a moment. “It wasn’t a bad workout class, honestly. Just rather intense.”

“And too loud and dark. Ugh. I can't believe I still have to go through an entire day.”

Sirius laughs. “That’s a funny sentence.”

Remus blinks again. “I have to teach in a couple of hours. Do you know how much fun I have teaching?”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “You love teaching.”

“I do,” Remus says, nodding miserably. “Just not after a high intensity– what is it that we did, again?”

“I’m not sure,” Sirius says. He rotates his shoulder and it pops. “All I know is I really underestimated how much it would kick my ass.”

“And to think we were teen Quidditch athletes a few lifetimes ago.”

Sirius laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t remind me, you’ll break my heart.”

Remus smiles and Sirius is in love with the smile lines around his eyes. “I know we’re not that peppy right now, but I think we kicked that workout’s ass as much as it kicked ours.”

Sirius nods. “Yeah, definitely.”

Remus looks at his watch. “When does your shift start?”

Sirius cringes. “I forgot about that.”

“You forgot about your job?”

Sirius smiles. “Yeah. I have a twelve hour shift today.”

“Oh no,” Remus says, sounding entirely too mortified.

Sirius snorts. “It’s not that bad. It’s mostly just healing broken bones and runny noses this time of year.”

Remus shudders. “Oh, how I love teaching. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Anytime, Re,” Sirius says. He takes a biteful of his eggs. “I don’t necessarily want to do what we did this morning ever again, but this is nice. Spending more time in the morning with you.”

Remus throws his straw wrapper at Sirius. He’s smiling when he says, “You’re being entirely too sentimental for six thirty in the damn morning. Finish your breakfast.”

“Aye aye, cap–”

“We could do something less sweaty if you want. Next time.”

Sirius grins. “Oh, you can’t get enough of me, can you?”

Remus makes a show of moving out of his chair. “I will go home without you.”

Sirius reaches out for Remus’ hand and holds it. “Don’t. You’re the best part of my morning.”

Remus’ eyes soften. “You are, as well. Always.” He winks playfully. “Don’t tell anyone, though.”

Sirius mimics sewing his mouth shut. This is the best morning Sirius has had in a while.

#There is a no angst rule courtesy of the month of loveeee #I am a healer!Sirius truther to my core #Oh to spend all of my mornings with you <3 #workout mention #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #wolfstar drabble #wolfstar microfic #older wolfstar #my writing

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50calmadeuce · 3 days ago

Text

Ch. 13: The Family

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know. :)

The rest of the afternoon and evening was a whirlwind of family chatter, delicious food, and lively card games. Laughter echoed through the house as Sheila’s home-cooked feast brought everyone together around the big dining table. Jake’s sisters doted on Christian, who happily soaked up the attention, his cheeks smeared with remnants of chocolate pudding.

You caught Jake watching you more than once, his signature grin softening into something almost tender. It was as if he was silently checking in, making sure you were comfortable amid his boisterous family.

During one of the card games, Jake leaned in close, his voice low but teasing. “You holding up okay, darlin’? They’re a lot, I know.”

You smiled, your hand brushing his under the table. “I’m good, Jake. They’re wonderful.”

“Good,” he murmured, his gaze lingering before he turned back to the game, still grinning like a man who knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

You were introduced to Jake’s sisters, Jessie and Erica, as well as his niece, Lindsay, and his nephew, Lukas, who all seemed to adore Christian.

The kids were playing in the living room while the rest of you sat around the table, finishing up a card game.

Jessie, acting as the dealer, shuffled the deck with a smirk. “I’m telling you, he’s a cheat!” she accused Jake, her tone teasing but pointed.

Jake scoffed. “I do not! You’re just bad at this game.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Christian toddling over to Jake. Without hesitation, Jake scooped him up, settling the boy on his lap. A soft smile spread across your face as Christian rested his head against Jake’s chest, his tiny frame relaxing completely.

A quick glance at your watch told you it was already nine o’clock.

Jessie caught your eye and grinned. “Are you sure you want to get involved with this card-game cheater?” she quipped.

You chuckle and glance at Jake, who smirks, clearly enjoying the banter. “I don’t know,” you tease, tilting your head as if considering it. “But if Christian’s already on his side, maybe I don’t stand a chance.”

Jessie shakes her head dramatically. “That’s how it starts. First, it’s cards. Then, next thing you know, he’s hustling you in board games.”

Jake raises an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Hustling? I’m just that good, and y’all can’t handle it.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jake,” Erica chimes in, sipping her drink.

Meanwhile, Christian’s eyes begin to droop as he snuggles closer into Jake’s chest, his little hand clutching Jake’s shirt. You smile warmly, your heart swelling at the sight.

Jessie notices too and softens. “Well, at least he’s good with kids,” she says, a touch of admiration in her voice.

“The best,” you reply softly, feeling more certain with each passing moment that this was where you and Christian were meant to be.

“Just deal the cards, you sore loser,” Jake interjects with a smirk.

You all play the final round, and, unsurprisingly, Jake comes out victorious. Jessie groans dramatically, sparking another round of playful bickering between the two siblings. You glance over at Christian, marveling at how he can sleep so soundly despite the noise. He must have been utterly exhausted.

“Just wait until tomorrow,” Jessie warns with a mischievous grin.

“Bring it,” Jake fires back, his tone dripping with mock bravado.

“That’s enough, you two. You’ll wake Christian,” Sheila interjects, putting an end to their teasing. Then she turns her attention to the kids in the living room. “Lindsay, Lukas, time to clean up and start getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, Grandma,” they chime in unison, already gathering their toys.

You reach for Christian, but Jake stops you with a gentle look. “I’ve got him,” he says softly. Carefully, he stands, lifting Christian onto his shoulder before heading to the bedroom.

When you turn back to the table, Jessie and Erica are watching you with knowing expressions.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“We’re just trying to figure out how you managed to capture our brother’s heart,” Jessie teases, her tone playful.

Heat rises to your cheeks just as a towel comes flying across the room, landing on Jessie. She bursts into laughter.

“Hush, you two! Leave her alone and help clean up,” Sheila scolds, rescuing you from further teasing.

Everyone begins to rise, and you start tidying up, but Sheila gently takes the dishes from your hands. “We’ve got this, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day.”

“It’s the least I can do after all your hospitality,” you protest.

Sheila offers a warm smile. “We’ve got it. Go check on Christian. I’m sure Jake’s fine, but you never know.”

You return her smile and nod. “Okay.”

Quietly, you make your way to Jake’s bedroom. Standing in the doorway, you watch as he carefully lowers Christian into the crib. He notices you and presses a finger to his lips. “I had to rock him a bit. He woke up,” he whispers.

You step closer and whisper back, “Your mom kicked me out of the kitchen to help.”

Jake grins, his expression soft and full of warmth.

Jake grins. “I’m sure.” Stepping closer, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him before pressing his lips to yours.

His touch sends a spark through your entire body, igniting a warmth that makes your knees weak. But with a deep breath, you place your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. As much as you don’t want to, you gently push him back. “I’m going to take a shower,” you murmur softly.

You walk to your luggage, retrieving your pajamas and toiletries. The weight of Jake’s gaze lingers on you, and as you turn to glance at him one last time, you see the intensity in his eyes. Without another word, you slip into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

While you’re in the shower, Jake busies himself finding extra pillows and blankets, arranging them neatly on the couch. He settles down, stretching out to get comfortable just as Sheila walks into the room.

“You got everything?” she asks, her voice soft but inquisitive.

“Yes, ma’am. Thanks, Ma.” Jake adjusts the blanket and sinks into the cushions.

Sheila turns to leave but pauses in the doorway. “Son?”

“Yeah, Ma?”

She steps back, leaning over the back of the couch to meet his eyes. “She’s a great girl. Smart. Maybe even too smart for you,” she says, her tone half-teasing but full of affection.

Jake chuckles softly. “I know, Ma.”

“But she’s got a lot of hurt,” Sheila continues, her tone soft but firm. “Don’t mess her up any more than she already is.”

“Trust me, Momma,” Jake replies, his voice low and resolute. “I’m trying to fix that.”

Sheila studies him for a moment, her expression softening. With a small nod, she finally walks away, leaving Jake alone with his thoughts.

Jake leans his head back against the couch, exhaling deeply. The weight of Sheila's words settles over him like a warm yet heavy blanket. He stares at the ceiling, lost in thought, the quiet hum of the house filling the silence.

He knew you carried scars—both visible and invisible. And he also knew he wasn’t perfect. Far from it. But something about you made him want to be better, to show up in ways he hadn’t before.

The sound of water shutting off nearby pulls him from his reverie. He smiles faintly, imagining you toweling off, your hair damp and messy, the faint scent of your shampoo lingering in the air.

He’d never felt this way before—not just protective, but invested. You weren’t just another chapter in his story; you were the kind of person who could change the whole narrative.

“I’m not gonna mess this up,” Jake mutters to himself, the promise firm in his voice.

As if to solidify his resolve, he pulls the blanket tighter around himself, his eyes narrowing with quiet determination. He didn’t know exactly how this would all play out, but one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let your story end in more heartbreak.

Because for once, Jake Seresin wasn’t thinking about himself. He was thinking about you.

Tags: @smoothdogsgirl @alwayshave-faith @devil-angel-winchester @khouse712 @illisea @hookslove1592 @tgmreader @juliemarauderfan @djs8891

#Spotify #jake seresin x you #jake seresin #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman #hangman top gun #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine

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