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courtingchaos · 2 months ago

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“My dad was a happy drunk.” The crackle of his inhale is right in your ear. “At least when he was still doing it regularly.” He holds the cigarette over for you to take. “I don’t know what he’s like now…like that.” He peters off for a moment, shimmying his shoulders across the old hardwood so one touches one of yours.

Laying oposite each other, heads in the crooks of each others necks, he glances over to see you staring holes through the ceiling.

“He never treated me like shit, not like that, like other kids. I can be grateful for that.” He takes the cigarette back from you when you hold it over his face. “It was after my mom died. It’s like he realized suddenly I could talk back and he forgot to treat me like a kid.” It’s his turn to stare at the ceiling while the ember dances around his words. “I was very suddenly his best friend. Always called me ‘pal’ but now? When he was home? It was like I was on the barstool next to him.” He’s not gonna cry about this. “I hated that shit.”

Another hand off, only this time he digs out his own smoke so you two can be in a haze together.

“So by the time I got to middle school, I didn’t have a dad, I had some guy who sometimes lived in the house with me.”

“Wait, you were living alone?”

He turns his head when you break your hours long silence, nodding as best he can while laying on the floor.

“Yeah. I didn’t move in with Wayne until ‘85.”

You stare at him for moment before turning back to face the ceiling.

“Anyways, it was a Fourth of July thing with some of his buddies. Someone forgot they were holding a bottle rocket and not a Roman candle and at the end of it all I had about half a head of singed hair.” He can remember the smell. Almost sour as the burnt strands crumbled on his shoulder and his dad has started laughing. Talking about near misses and being lucky but he hadn’t felt lucky. “Whole drive home he was trying to crack jokes and I wasn’t having it.” He takes a deep breath that makes the ember glow brightly. “I started crying and he told me to man up. I think he was sobering up, probably shook him to see me covered in soot.

“When we got home he took me into the bathroom and just shaved it all off. Didn’t put a fucking guard on it or anything. I don’t think I’d ever had hair that short, not since I was like…little.” He turns to stare at you then, eyes tracing the shell of your ear where your hair wisps around it in short curls. “He told me it was fine and that it looked better than before. Said the long hair made me look like a queer.”

That earns him a huff from you. One last puff of smoke into the ceiling before you stub out the butt into the ashtray near your elbow.

“I say all of that to tell you my opinion doesn’t matter. The people at work or the grocery store, it literally doesn’t matter.”

You spent the past two days crying about it but it seems your either over it or past the worst of it.

“If it upsets you, it upsets you and nothing I say is gonna make it better. I’m not gonna change your mind.” He holds his hand out across his chest and waits for you to grab it. “I’m sorry it didn’t come out the way you wanted, I know this keeps happening.”

“I didn’t think my hair meant so much to me.” You aren’t crying but the emotion weighs down your words, this he knows after years of practice.

“It’s okay that it did.”

“Feels stupid to cry over a bad haircut.”

He hums and shakes his head and doesn’t tell you it’s not stupid, you already know that. Simple things mean a lot, he knows that fickle game of attachment. He also knows that while his opinion does matter to you on some infinitesimal level, he doesn’t need to constantly remind you that it’s okay. He didn’t start a relationship with you over your hair. It’s just hair is something he’ll be able to say a few days from now when you finally start styling it and talking about a new product you bought. It’s a waiting game that he doesn’t mind waiting through, not with you. However he will remind you of one thing.

“Regardless, you’re still the prettiest girl I know.”

You laugh, something real but quiet, the first one in a few days. “Shut up.”

#My Work #My Fic #Eddie Munson Fic

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lostbookmark · 18 days ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: The first few chapters will be just plot. Smut lovers need to wait until chapter 5. Also, a couple of readers that wanted to be tagged I couldn't tag you. Your name wouldn't pop up for me to click on.

“Last box,” Hobi said, bringing in the last of your belongings and placing it on your kitchen table that you pulled out of your parent’s dusty storage unit earlier in the day.

As much as you love Hobi, you couldn't live with him forever in his small two bedroom apartment anymore. Jungkook had texted you about a house that he had recently renovated on a plot of land that they owned near the neighboring Tannie Farms. He had offered to rent it to you before putting it out there for the public. He said he would rather have family in it and not some stranger that he can't trust. You quickly accepted his offer and started packing your clothes the same day. Hobi begged you to stay a little longer, but you know that you were holding him back. Your social butterfly of a best friend started to cancel plans and dates to stay with you because you wanted to become a hermit and not leave your bed. It wasn't fair. You wanted him to happily live his life, and you knew he wouldn't if you were still there.

Your mother and father, thankfully, offered to let you raid their garage and storage unit for anything that you wanted to take for your new home. It was mostly junk that they were glad to get rid of. This way, they didn't have to worry about how they were going to throw it away. You came away with an old dark oak table and a couple of matching chairs that both wobbled a little bit. You are going to need to shove something under the legs to stabilize them. You also took a lumpy couch that used to be white in color but has since turned a dingy gray color after being stored away for so many years. Your old mattress from high school that you're almost positive will kill your back but is better than sleeping on the floor and a dresser whose drawers won't open without a fight. You did, however, pass on a large area rug due to the fact that it smelled like something had died in it. They weren't the best, but it was better than having nothing at all. You'll be able to save up for better furniture later for your new house at a later date.

The two story white farmhouse with black rustic looking shutters was absolutely beautiful, and you fell in love as soon as you saw it. It was tucked away on a back road that was pure dirt several miles out of the main town square where it sat on perfectly manicured green grass. The wrap-around porch was decorated with various potted flowers, both big and small, in a range of beautiful colors. Large black solar powered lanterns lay scattered along around the perimeter of the dark wooden porch that emits a warm glow after sunset, setting a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. A large porch swing sat on the back of the porch has a perfect view of Tannie Farms in the far horizon where their crops seem to go on forever. Where the stalks of corn sway in the breeze around the various tractors and other farm equipment that sat in their cornfield. It was a picture-perfect view.

The house itself had large floor to ceiling windows with french doors that have matching black trim all encased in brand new white siding. Inside, the new hardwood floors and freshly painted beige walls were perfectly clean and crisp looking. He was able to give it the perfect blend of modern and cozy at the same time. However, the best part was the quiet. It was so serene and peaceful that you were afraid that the silence might scare you after being away from it for so many years. You never got to have serene or peaceful when you lived in the city in a busy apartment complex along the main street of a popular area. Sirens, honking cars and yelling were a part of your everyday life. After a few months, they just became background noise that blurred into your daily life. Changkyun also always preferred to have friends over at all hours for drinks and music. He didn't care if you needed to sleep or if you had to get up early. He only cared about impressing his friends. You couldn't even complain, or it would start a fight. He told you all the time that you were not on the lease, so it wasn't your decision. It was miserable, and looking back, you don't know why you stayed as long as you did.

There was, however, just one thing that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten to tell you about until after you had signed the contract and handed it back to him. That your one…singular neighbor, who you also have to share a large driveway with happened to be Min Yoongi. You thought it was a well thought out move on his end. Kook said that you wouldn't even see him since he is pretty much at the farm most of the day. It didn't really help put you at ease, but it didn't scare you away either. It was time to grow up and move forward. Like Hobi has said. You were adults, and it's time to put all the bullshit away.

“Coming through,” Jungkook called out as he and Tae came through your door carrying your super old double mattress from high school.

They head up stairs carrying it above their heads as you follow behind them and enter your bedroom. They toss it on the floor, and you can see a cloud of dust fly out of it. The particles linger suspended in the air. You'll have to figure out how to clean it later. The guys look at each other and then around the bare room in confusion. You ignore them and push the mattress into the corner of your room with your foot and give them a smile.

“What?” You ask them as you watch them as they continue to look around the barren room. “What's the matter?”

“Don't you have a bed frame?” Tae asks, scratching his head.

“Or a box spring?” Kook added a second later.

“No, I didn't see them earlier. I think my mom might have gotten rid of them. It's not a big deal. I’m just happy I don't have to sleep on the hard floor or the lumpy couch,” you say with a shrug. Down stairs, you hear a crash and something break.

“I'll buy you a new one,” Joon called up the stairs.

You sigh and head back downstairs to see what your loveable but clumsy friend broke. Thankfully, it was just a vase used for decoration that you had bought on sale and held no sentimental value. Shooing him away from the mess, you take over the clean-up carefully, avoiding cutting yourself of the sharp shards of colorful glass.

You couldn't be more thankful for them than you already were. You were thankful for Jin when he dropped off dinner for you since you haven't gotten geroceries yet. You were thankful for Jungkook for offering you the house. Also, for everyone else who helped you move things from your parent's storage unit and garage to the house doing all the heavy lifting for you. You really did love them. They were here. They never gave up on you.

“Are you going to be okay here alone? What if it's haunted?” Hobi asked, giving you wide, scared eyes. “You can always stay one more night with me if you're scared. You know I don't mind.”

“It's not haunted,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

“Besides, she’s not completely alone,” Jimin said, looking at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. “Yoongi is just right over there.”

You curse yourself for letting it slip to Jimin one drunken night bar hopping in college that you may have found Yoongi attractive. You distinctly remember him and Kook playing darts in one of the darkened bars that your group frequented. You remember the way he bit his lip in concentration as his fingers held the dart, his dark hair falling over a red headband around his forehead. You just blurted it out loud without thinking as you sat with Jimin at a little table against the wall. The little shit never let you live it down when the two of you were alone. You are actually surprised, though, that it still seems to be a secret between only the two of you. You guess you can be thankful for that.

“I'll be fine,” you tell him, dismissing his concerns. “You guys can go. I have the first day of school tomorrow, and I need to get things around.”

Namjoon had agreed and helped round everyone up by the kitchen door. After a round of goodbyes and thank yous, you waved from your kitchen door as they dispersed. Kook, Tae, and Jimin went next door to Yoongi’s and the others left in their cars. You collapsed on your lumpy couch with a sigh. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself you'll unpack tomorrow. Laying there, you take in the quietness of the house. It was something that you would have to get used to. There was no extra body puttering around and making background noise. No, Hobi, singing early in the morning as he got ready for work. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock were the only things that could be heard. For the first time, it was just you. You had never lived alone, but you felt excited to see how you were going to do. It was going to be a welcomed new adventure, and you couldn't wait to see how you'll do.

You stand on the sidewalk in front of the school with your students smashed together in a yellow square that was taped off just for them as you waited for their parents to pick them up. Your first day of school went surprisingly well for the most part. When Joon found out you were back in town for good, he offered you a teaching position at your old elementary school where you had once attended. The exact same one where Jin and Hobi became your best friends. Where Jin shared his sandwich with you when you forgot your lunch in the third grade. Where you had to beat up some little boy for making fun of Hobi's shoes when you were six. You don't even remember his name now, but you gave him a bloody nose, and your dad had to pick you up early. It was a lot smaller than what you remembered. It always seemed so big when you were younger and playing on the playground, running around laughing, playing tag. When you all were so innocent and free back then.

You were initially excited that you didn't have to job hunt in the surrounding school districts, but you went into panic mode when Namjoon dropped the bomb on you. It was for Pre-K. You never taught such young kids before. You always had fourth graders in the past. Ten year olds. Ten year olds who could, for the most part, listen when they wanted to and take care of themselve. They didn't need to be taught to walk in a straight line or to raise their hand if they needed something. They knew how to zip their coats, put on gloves, and tie their shoes. These were some things that you never thought about having to teach, but yet here you were.

You didn't know anything about four year olds. All that you knew was that they were loud and sticky, and their bathroom habits were iffy at best. Thankfully, Joon, pretty much did your entire months worth of lesson plans for you, mostly to bribe you into saying yes to his job offer. All you had to do was follow his directions until you got the hang of it for yourself. Coloring, writing their name, singing, and dancing it all seemed pretty simple. Seven hours of playtime, easy, peasy.

Not quite. A few things you learned today were that they like to run and you need better antiperspirant. Do not..... repeat..... do not wear heels again. No matter how short you think the heel is….it's still too tall. You will need to buy several pairs of comfy flats and tennis shoes. Always do head count because you might have thought you lost one child between the art room and your classroom. Turns out he was just hiding under a table in the corner of the room. However, when it was all said and done, there were no tears from either you or the kids. You will take it as a win.

“Bye, Jae,” you say, waving at your last student that was picked up by her parents. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched them walk away as she held their hands, skipping between them. Good riddance, and now you get to do it all again tomorrow.

“Y/n,” a voice said your name, making you turn toward it. You smile slightly when you see the school’s music teacher standing behind you.

“Yes, can I help you…” You trail off, clearly not remembering his name.

“Shinwon,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You politely shake his hand and look at him expectly. “I just wanted to check in and see how your first day was. I know a new school and new city can be intimidating.”

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I grew up around here so…not new. I know this place very well.”

“Oh,” he said with a surprised smile, and he tilted his head to the side like he was amused. “I was going to offer to show you around our little sleepy town, but I guess you know it better than I do, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a shrug and look around, trying to find a way to get out of this conversation when you spot Namjoon, who was walking to his car. When you finally catch his attention, he just waves at you happily before getting into his car. You think you see him laughing. Jerk.

“Well, then maybe you can show me some hidden gems around here,” he says and hands you his phone. “Here, put your number in, and I'll text you mine.”

You take his phone and input your information very reluctantly. You consider giving him a fake number, but that would probably make things super awkward later. You hand it back to him, and he smiles brilliantly at you, his perfect teeth on display. You watch as his fingers fly across the screen before he looks back up to you.

“I sent you a text,” he tells you. “Maybe we can hang out someday. We could possibly go into the city and do something?”

“Listen, I just got out of a relationship,” you started to tell him, but he cut you off.

“No, problem,” he said, still smiling. “It doesn't have to be a date. We can do something just as friends. Friends have dinner all the time. Maybe we can even see a movie one night.”

“Maybe, if I can find the time,” you say with a tight smile. “I should go, but it was nice meeting you.”

You turn on your heel and quickly walk away as fast as your aching feet can carry you, leaving him standing there alone. Yup, definitely tennis shoes from now on. You will be able to keep up with the kiddos better and, more importantly, run away from men faster. Perfect.

Getting out of your car, you grimace as your aching feet hit the hard cement of the garage floor. You didn't mean to slam your car door so hard as you begin to limp and waddle your way up to your house in a desperate need to soak your feet in your tub. You can almost sigh in satisfaction at the thought of the hot water surrounding you as you lie there in the clawfoot tub until your fingers turn pruny. As the hot, steaming water relaxes your muscles, taking away the ache from your feet as you drop a bath bomb that fizzes while listening to music and maybe…probably drink some wine.

“Bad first day of school?” You recognize Yoongi's voice behind you, causing you to freeze. You're embarrassed that he caught you walking like an idiot.

“No,” you answer truthfully as you give him a surprised look when you turn to look at him.

“It is the first day, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you before popping the hood of a side-by-side that sat on his side of the driveway. “Joon mentioned something about it yesterday.”

“Yeah, umm… it was pretty good. I might have a blister and an unwanted admirer, but hey, no one stuck anything where it didn't belong. So, good day.” You explain not expecting the conversation to go much further.

You were surprised when he actually started laughing. You don't think you have ever made Min Yoongi laugh. It was a good look on him. You wouldn't mind if he did more around you.

“Please tell me it's not some single dad?” he asks once he stops laughing. He uses the wrench in his hand to tinker around with mechanical things that are beyond your knowledge. You can drive a car but that's about it. You just pray that you never get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Triple A is a thing, right?

“Worse, the music teacher. He offered to show me around town,” you say with a nod of your head. “Like what was he going to show me? Jin’s cafe?”

“I mean. We do have a new hardware store in town,” he informs you while he concentrates on his task. “Maybe he can show you where the screws are.”

A small silence falls between the two of you as you look around in contemplation.

“Is that..” You start but pause for a second, and you feel your face heat up. “Is that supposed to be sexual?”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” he said innocently and smirked at you as his eyes met yours through the fallen blonde hair in his eyes. He shakes it out of his vision and continues with his task. You shake your head at him, limping and waddling your way up the stairs to your house. “Wait, I have some of your mail. Let me go get it.”

You lean your hands against the railing of the porch as he disappears in his house. You take turns lifting each foot off the ground behind you and giving it a little wiggle, hoping to find some sort of relief. He better hurry because all you want to do is sit down. You continue your little foot routine when you hear the squeak of his screen door open and Yoongi walks across the driveway to you. Reaching up, he hands you a singular piece of mail over your railing that you take from him, and he retreats back to the side-by-side. You sigh in annoyance when you see what he gave you.

“To the current resident….” You say loudly. “Do you need to lower your cable costs? You really felt the need to give me this junk mail?”

“It would have been a federal offense if I hadn't,” he answered while not even looking at you.

“Well, thanks,” you say sarcastically and turn back toward the house. You pull out your mess of keys that jingle and jangle with too many keychains as you unlock your door.

“Y/N,” Yoongi calls out again, making you look over your shoulder at him once again. “I would have helped…you know….yesterday when you moved in. I just figured that you wouldn't want me there.”

That made you feel horrible. You felt like a horrible human being who is still acting childish over some weird grudge from college. If what Hobi said was true, it was only one-sided on your part. Your shoulders slump just a little bit before you turn back to him once again. His hands are fiddling with that wrench looking a little nervous as he tries not to stare at you for too long. The wrench makes quite the clicking sound as he turns it over and over again as he twirls it with his finger. He glances up at you quickly before turning his eyes back to the silver tool in his hand.

“I appreciate it,” you tell him as you tap that piece of junk mail on the palm of your opposite hand just as nervous. “Maybe, if you want to, that is. Maybe we can start over again and actually try to be friends for once.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” he rambles, agreeing with you, trying to nod his head nonchalantly. “Hey, are you going to help out at the Farmers Market again? The guys think you will bring more business in.”

“I highly doubt that, but yeah, I can come and help again,” you answer with a nod of your head. “Have a good evening, Yoongi,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

“You too,” he says, eyes watching you until you unlock the door.

Finally, getting into your house, you close the door and lock it behind you. You reach down undo the straps of your shoes and proceed to kick them off with a careless fling of your foot, not caring where they land as you hear them hit the floor with a thump. You waddle your way to that old dirty couch and flop down unceremoniously with a groan. You think your aching feet hurt more now than they did in the heels. Your nice hot bath with your wine and the bath bomb is going to have to wait until you get enough motivation to stand up, and that might not be anytime soon. You might have to put off unpacking one more day.

You turn your head and look out your living room window. You can see Yoongi with the top half of his body bent over and working away on the vehicle on his side of the driveway. You never thought in a million years that you would be friends with the cute, popular basketball player turned handsome neighbor. You smile a little as you continue to stare at him, and you think you might feel a little fluttering in your stomach. You're going to have to squish those butterflies. That flapping, flitting feeling that you haven't felt in years makes your body tingle in excitement. Your heart was not ready for that feeling. It wasn't ready at all.

Tagged Readers

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs, @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld,

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #suga bts #bts suga #bts fic #bangtan fanfic #bts smut

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that-gay-guy-from-hell · 1 year ago

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A Devil's Secret Wingman: Vergil x G/N Reader

APPARENTLY, I NEVER POSTED THIS HERE; I WROTE THIS BACK IN MARCH OF 2023 LMFAO WHAT THE FUCK--

SUMMARY: As time has gone on, random appearances from a certain blue apparition happened more and more. A part of you wonders why but you had never dared to ask Vergil; however, the sly blue ghostly devil had a different plan in store.

BEGINNING NOTES: I don’t know why I really like the idea of Vergil in yoga pants right now; I just do. Also when Doppel shakes their upper half; I am imagining something similar to a bird fluffing its feathers. Yes, I know that Vergil + Dante’s DT/Sin DTs don’t have feathers but I feel like they’d still do it; plus it would make Vergil’s (Sin Trigger) shoulder pauldrons move according to how they work on the concept art page. 💝🩵💝 Vergil x G/N Reader Unestablished relationship Some good ol’ fluff

INSPIRED BY:

A Doppelganger's Projection--By: DevilSwordVergil

Devil's Advocate--By: LadyMuzzMuzz

These are both super cute and I love them ngl

Visitations from a certain bright blue apparition had become a regular occurrence when you visited the Devil May Cry. It didn't typically matter what was going on; night or day, before or after a job--as long as you were alone, the glowing blue devil would make time to see you. At first, you thought that Vergil had been doing this to keep an eye on you while he was up in his room; however, as time went by, you realized that Vergil didn’t even have to be awake for Doppel to appear--sometimes you'd even get a visit when Vergil was out and about. It had become a part of your routine, one which you reveled in greatly.

Today was no exception.

Vergil and you were on “shop duty”, being tasked with the monotonous secretary work of (the) Devil May Cry. Everyone else had various contracts to complete or were on vacation; leaving you and the blue twin alone for an undisclosed amount of time.

You sighed heavily, “I’m so fucking bored…” you leaned forward in the desk chair and set your head on the desk with a small thunk.

It had been nearly three hours and there wasn’t a single phone call or walk-in; it was as dead as dead can be. A part of you had hoped that Vergil might join you downstairs for a while, maybe even a long while; but, you hadn’t seen nor heard from the Dark Slayer all day. Which was fine, it’s not like the two of you don’t see each other all the time, but you couldn’t help but yearn to be near him--even if it just meant that you were occupying the same room.

A small joyful chirping caught your attention. You tilted your head up slightly and stared from the tops of your eyes. Standing at the bottom of the stairs was the blue ghostly doppelgänger that you expected to visit at some point.

You picked your head up. Placing your elbow on the desk and resting your chin in your palm, you flashed them a bright beaming smile, “Hey Doppel, come to join me?”

Although you knew that the devil couldn’t speak, you would talk to them as if they were able to respond; which to be fair they technically could. Your smile widened as they wiggled a bit, a sign that you'd learned meant they were happy or in agreement. The devil approached you and stood in front of the desk with a tilted head.

“Wanna sit with me?” you smiled as you sat up and watched Doppel wriggle faster, spreading their wings slightly in excitement, “Alright,” you stood from the chair.

With a loud scrapping sound, you moved the coffee table out from in front of the pleather couch--making sure to give the devil enough room. With a playful huff and bounce, you sat on the couch.

The sound of their claws daintily clicking on the hardwood floor made you giggle in amusement. They stood in front of the couch before tilting their head once more.

“What?” you watched their hands as they gestured along the couch, asking you to lay down, “Oh? Okay, sure..?”

It was a bit odd since they had never asked for that before but you did as you were asked. With a curious tilt to your brow, you watched as the devil sat above you, straddling your legs. If this had been the real Vergil, you surely would’ve been crushed to death by now; thankfully, Doppel (typically) weighed almost nothing. Another laugh left your lips as you watched the dangerous devil knead into your chest with both his hands, emitting a thunderous purr; reminding you of a cat. Meanwhile, you gently ran your hands along the devil's body.

After a minute or two, they carefully laid on top of you; encompassing you entirely. You smiled as you nestled your face into (where there typically would be) grey scales above their blue V. Carefully, they rubbed the underside of their chin against the top of your head. Between the heat and the vibrations of their purrs, it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep; forgetting all about your shop work.

Nearly an hour later, you were still sleeping happily with the blue devil doing the same. However, a different blue devil had come downstairs to check on you; worried that you hadn’t answered the shop's phone several times. Now, he could only stare at the sight before him.

The sight of you, his partner and secret romantic interest, being smothered by his own duplicate. Doppel noticed Vergil’s sudden appearance and curiously turned their head towards him.

With a large and envious scowl, Vergil snapped his fingers in an attempt to de-summon the blue apparition but was only met with a small wiggling motion in defiance. This movement was enough to stir you awake.

Only having your eyes half open, you mumbled to your ghostly cuddle-bug, “Somethin’ wrong Doppel?”

They looked down at you and back to Vergil. You turned your head to the side and became pale at the sight of Doppel’s owner. Vergil had moved further into the room and stood next to the desk with folded arms. A small blush spread across your face upon seeing his oddly casual apparel; a pair of semi-form-fitting black yoga pants and his typical turtlenecked dark blue vest. Upon seeing that you noticed Vergil, Doppel took their leave with a small chirp of happiness.

Vergil swallowed audibly and looked away from your eyes, a small amount of pink pricked at his features--embarrassed about this situation, “Forgive me, I was unaware of their summoning,” his voice was meek and caught you off guard.

You smiled as you sat up, “Don’t worry about it… If I’m honest,” you placed a hand on the back of your neck awkwardly, “I actually enjoy these little visits.”

“This- This has happened before?” Vergil’s gaze turned back to you filled with concern and confusion.

“Yeah..?” you cocked your head slightly, “Haven’t you been sending Doppel to stay with me?”

The twin looked at you with parted lips and wide-eyed expression; telling you that your assumption was far from correct.

Before you were able to question him more, Vergil went back up the stairs and holed himself back up in his room.

“Shit,” a loud sigh left your lips as you flung your head backwards, hitting the crown of your head on the back cushions; fearing that this would somehow bite you in the ass later.

You waited a while to see if Vergil would come back downstairs and were disappointed when he didn’t. Another heavy sigh left your lips as you stood up from the couch and tended to your assigned work.

After that was completed, you quickly became bored again and looked around for something to bide your time. That’s when you realized how dirty the DMC had become making you scrunch your face in disgust. So, you decided to take upon the hefty maid work and got to it.

Three hours of exhausting scrubbing and cleaning later, you flopped face down on the sofa, satisfied with your work. Slowly, you felt the warm gentle hold of sleep taking hold of you or was it something else? Before you could question it too much, you fell back asleep.

After a half hour or so, you tried to turn over and felt something stop you. Irritatedly, you opened your eyes and noticed luminescent wings and arms wrapped around you. It seemed that Doppel had not only returned to you but was sleeping on top of you.

“Doppel?” you whispered and got a small tail wag in response, “Can you let me up?”

They looked at you for a moment, presumably in thought, then slid off you. You sat up and let out a low groan as you stretched your arms upwards, cracking your back. The large devil sat facing you with crisscrossed legs, reminding you of how juvenile the ghost acted in comparison to its master.

With a small laugh, you turned to put one leg up on the couch, “So… What’s with you? I hear that you’ve been visiting me without permission?” you cocked your head curiously.

The blue devil chirped in affirmation.

"Why?"

Doppel’s tail gently moved to point at your chest before laying it on your lap. Carefully, you pet the sharp scales; giving extra care to go pet down the tail so you didn’t slice your hand.

“My chest, huh?” you shook your head with a faint smile, “I don’t understand.”

The light blue figure cocked its head slightly before shaking its upper body with a loud chirp. Then, they took their hands and fumbled with them for a moment, before they made a crude heart shape with their fingers.

With pursed lips and a furrowed brow, you huffed quietly in confusion, “A heart?” the blue devil shook with another loud chirp--indicating that you were correct, “What..? You just love spending time with me or something?” admittedly, you found that idea to be adorable.

Doppel looked over and stared at the staircase; which you copied.

“Wait,” you froze and looked at Doppel with wide eyes, “You mean that Vergil-?”

A third loud chirp came from them as they wriggled in place.

With parted lips, you tried to come up with a response. However, before you were able, Doppel sat on their knees, still on the couch, and poked your chest with their finger this time.

“Are you asking if I..?” your voice was hushed as Doppel wiggled a bit, “Oh, well- I,” you stumbled over your thoughts and words. Admittedly, you’d never said it out loud before or told anyone about how you felt for the older brother; despite the incessant pestering of Nico and Dante, “Yeah, I-” a small smile tugged at your lips as you sighed contently, “I do love Vergil.”

The blue apparition carefully cupped your face within its hands and made an odd purring chirp noise; one you’d never heard before. They continued to purr afterwards and just stared into your eyes. That’s when you realized what Doppel was asking you to do.

“No way,” you shook your head slightly, still confined by the devil’s hands, “I can’t tell him. Do you know how much he’d hate me over something--”

Another loud chirping purr cut you off; this time, however, Doppel wriggled harder and spread their wings out in clear disagreement.

“You sure about this?” you whispered as you felt them squish your face closer together, making you scrunch up, “Alright- Alright, I’ll go,” Doppel let go of your face as you laughed nervously.

A deep nervous feeling grew in your gut as you stood up and slowly ascended the stairs, with Doppel following suit. Once in front of Vergil’s door, you stopped and looked over at the apparition with pursed lips. Doppel decided to force things along further and knocked loudly on the door for you, making you cuss loudly at the ghostly devil.

The door opened and Vergil stood there with a raised brow; however, before he spoke, he noticed his Doppelgänger standing beside you.

“What- How?!” Vergil’s voice was angry as he glared at the blue ghost.

Doppel straightened their posture with a curious tilt of their head.

The eldest twin’s lip twitched in irritation at their counterpart.

Meekly, you broke Vergil’s death glare at the apparition, “Hey, could we,” you shrugged with one shoulder, “talk for a minute?”

Vergil eyed you up and down, “Fine, give me a moment,” with that, he turned back into his room and shut the door.

You turned to Doppel and became increasingly confused. They were ruffling their top half with their wings wide spread and their tail flicking around.

“What’s up with you?” you were unsure if they were excited or angry.

The ghost looked at you and patted the top of your head, still wriggling around.

With a small shake of your head, you smirked a wide smile at them, “You’re quite excited, huh?”

Before they could give a clear response, Vergil’s bedroom door opened again.

The twin sighed and moved to the side, “You may enter.”

“Are you sure you want me in your room? You never--”

“Yes.”

With a coy nod, you smiled, “Okay, thank you.”

Vergil gave you a flat smile and shut the door as he watched Doppel wave to him and then fade.

A heavy sigh came from the twin as he stood facing the door for a moment, attempting to hide his growing nervousness. Vergil turned to face you and took a few steps closer. The two of you awkwardly stood in the middle of the open space. Admittedly, the eldest son’s room was rather plain; only having essential items, a few bookshelves, and a small desk.

“It’s nice in here,” you smiled and avoided his piercing gaze, “it’s very well-kempt; a reflection of its inhabitant.”

Although Vergil was flattered by your compliment, he was uncomfortable by someone else’s presence in his space; making his tone rather snappy, “What do you want?”

You pursed your lips and shrank down into yourself, taking his tone as a bad sign, “Doppel told me something, and I--” you shot a glance at him and noticed his brow was furrowed, “I was made to come up here to talk with you.”

“Speak then.”

“Well,” you bit your tongue, “you know what, never mind; just forget this happened,” with your tail between your legs, you attempted to retreat and leave, when you felt him grab your forearm.

Without turning to you, Vergil spoke in a hushed tone, “No, I want to hear what you have to say.”

A sigh left your nose as you turned your head to the side, looking at the side profile of the stone-faced man, “Promise you won’t be mad?”

Vergil copied your action, turning his head to face you, “Fine.”

Your heart rate spiked as you locked eyes with his icy eyes and a small blush dusted your face. Vergil released his hold on your arm and turned fully to see you with folded arms.

You looked away from him again and tensed up as you whispered, “Doppel wanted me to tell you about how,” with a scrunched face, you braced for the worst, “I have feelings for you.”

His voice was sharp and he squinted his eyes, “What kind of feelings ?”

With a barely audible voice and a small nervous laugh, you answered, “Romantic ones…”

The room fell silent. A thick uncomfortable tension hung in the air as Vergil just stared at you. If he had stabbed you with the Yamato or scoffed in response; that would have been preferable then him just standing completely still and silent. A part of you wanted to bolt out the door and just run from this, but you were frozen in fear.

“Is that your version of a confession?”

Unable to look at him, you nodded.

Vergil’s stare softened and he let out a gentle sigh, “Let me guess,” slowly, he approached you and stopped only a few inches from you, “my doppelgänger told you about my own feelings then?”

With another small nod, you focused on his boots that had come into view.

“Then may I ask why you were hesitant to tell me..?”

You whispered, “I figure Doppel was just messing with me.”

Vergil gave a flat smile. Gently he set his thumb and forefinger on your chin, tilting you up for him to see. Neither of you spoke as he slowly ran his thumb over your parted lips, making your face turn a few shades darker. Eventually, you met his gaze and noticed his expression had softened greatly; the first time you’d seen him this mellow.

Vergil whispered as he stared down at your lips, “May I..?”

You gave a small grin, “Of course.”

With a very slow and careful lean, Vergil connected his mouth to yours. You sheepishly placed your hands on his sides, making him push a bit harder into the kiss. His lips were broiling hot as he slowly moved his lips against yours. After a few moments, Vergil broke the kiss off and leaned back enough to look you over; attempting to gauge your response. A small smile tugged at your lips and you noticed that Vergil had the same expression.

He moved his hand to rest on the side of your jaw, gently thumbing over your cheekbone, “I assume that was proof enough?”

Curious as to how he would respond, you inched toward him and cocked your head slightly, “Mnm, I dunno; think I might need another just to be sure.”

He shyly looked down and leaned back into you, intertwining once more. This time, however, Vergil made sure to pour everything he had into the kiss. Quickly, he moved both hands to your waist and pulled you tight to his body, making you squeak in surprise. Using this to his advantage, he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

After a few minutes of fervourous kissing, the two of you broke apart, breathing heavily. Vergil gently nuzzled against the side of your neck and placed sweet kisses along it; very quietly purring.

While the two of you were enjoying each other's embrace, a loud yell from downstairs caught your attention, it seems that Dante had returned. However, when you tried to separate from Vergil, he pulled you closer.

“Stay, my brother can wait,” his voice was laden with a thick husky seduction as he continued to kiss down your neck, “I’m not done showing you how much I love you.”

ENDING NOTES: Is it weird for me to hyperlink stories that inspired my chapters or not? This is a genuine question--I don't want to seem weird, but I want to give credit where credit is due.

If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))

MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR

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daisies-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Hey, how are you doing?! btw I like your work and If you don't mind can you please write were 141 + könig is defending they're kids while ur scolding at them 👉👈 🥺💞 can you write plz

Word Count: 1.6k+

A/N: Hello! I'm doing fine and dandy today, thank you! And thank you for your request! Honestly, I can see all of the 141 and König being such good papa's. 🥰 I hope you enjoy!

D/N = Daughter's Name, S/N = Son's Name

Simon “Ghost” Riley

“What were you thinking?” you scowled. Simon stood next to you as he shifted his attention back and forth between you and your daughter. (D/N) pouted as she stared at her feet. The walls of your hallway were covered in crayon markings, from unicorns to dinosaurs. You had just put a fresh coat of paint on them a few days ago, too.

“I-I’m sorry,” she sniffled. Your brows furrowed as your face turned beet red.

“Still, you shouldn’t have drawn all over the walls. Mommy worked hard to make it look better and you just messed it up,” you spat. Your daughter suddenly burst into tears. You blinked, regretting instantly flooding your chest. Simon knelt down on one knee just as you opened your mouth.

“(D/N), why did you color on the walls, baby?” he asked while staying at eye level with your little one. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed.

“I-I wanted to make it look pretty l-like Mommy was doing,” she hiccupped as she pointed at the messy mural on the wall. Simon turned to you, raising a brow. You sighed as you dropped to your knees as well. Your husband patted your back, then squeezed your shoulder with one of his rough hands.

“See? She didn’t mean any harm, love,” he said. (D/N) nodded, tears and snot streaking down her face as she gasped in between her sobs.

“I’m sorry I got mad, (D/N). Will you please forgive Mommy?” you asked. She nodded before she came up to hug both of you.

The three of you spent the evening cleaning up the drawings, though you made sure to spend some time coloring with her on actual paper afterwards.

König

Your son’s shoulders were slumped as he held his hands behind his back. You thrummed your fingers against your forearms and you crossed your arms. Shattered glass lay on the hardwood floor, a gaping hole in your living room window. A baseball rested near the opposite wall.

“I-It was an accident,” he stammered. Your nostrils flared as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“You need to be more careful, (S/N). What if that ball hit someone?!” you scoffed. The boy’s eyes were misty as he swallowed a lump in his throat. Your husband suddenly stepped through the back door, a baseball mitt in his hand. He clapped a hand over your son’s shoulder.

“Please, don’t be upset with him, Maus. I was the one who missed catching the ball,” he claimed. Your eyes shifted back and forth between your two boys. You sighed and shook your head, your facial features relaxing.

“Alright-but you’re going to have to clean up your mess while I call about replacing the window,” you said. König nodded. Your son looked up at his father before running to grab the broom and dustpan from the linen closet. You tilted your head as (S/N) gazed up at you.

“It was our game-so we should both clean it up,” your boy said with a firm nod. You and König exchanged small smiles as he grabbed your husband’s free hand and bounded off to clean up.

John Price

Your jaw felt sore from how long you had it dropped. Your son giggled as he did a little dance in place, his entire body covered head to toe in peanut butter.

The same peanut butter you just bought from the store.

Your jaw clicked as you looked at the empty tub at his feet. You took a deep breath.

“(S/N)…What. Did. You. Do?” you asked through gritted teeth. His smile faltered at your sour tone.

“I gave myself a peanut butter bath!” he beamed. “Now you don’t have to clean me up later, Momma!” he giggled as he raised his arms. Your entire body radiated with frustration.

“No, now I have to give you a longer bath because you got yourself all dirty!” your voice suddenly raised several decibels. (S/N) winced.

“What’s all this, then?” your husband, John, asked from behind you. You whipped your head around, tongue twisted too much to even explain what happened. Your son bounced up and down when he saw his father.

“Look, Papa! I gave myself a bath!” the boy giggled. John blinked before bursting into laughter, tears of amusement pricking at the corners of his eyes as he grabbed his stomach. Your anger quickly dissipated as you reflected your husband’s expression, letting out a small chuckle of your own. John wiped at his eye as he stepped forward, scanning your son up and down.

“Your a cheeky lad, you know that?” he mused. Your son laughed as John picked him up and spun him around, not minding the substance that clung to his clean clothes. His sea-green eyes lingered over to you.

“He didn’t mean anything wrong by it, hun,” he shrugged. Your son nodded before licking at the corners of his peanut-butter covered mouth. You laughed.

“You’re right-I’m sorry, (S/N),” you apologized as you came up and kissed his temple. He giggled and swatted at you playfully.

“Momma! That tickles!” he squealed. John chuckled as your son hid his face in his father's shoulder. “C’mon, (S/N)-let’s give you a proper bath,” John said.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

“FUCK!” your daughter’s small voice screamed. Your eyes widened as you snapped your head up. She still wore a cheeky grin as she spilled a few more grapes on the floor before repeatedly shouting the explicative at the top of her lungs. Your brows furrowed.

“(D/N)! No ma’am!” you frowned as you shook a finger at her. The young girl’s smile fell as you proceeded to chew her out. “We don’t use those bad words!” you barked. Her bottom lip trembled as she hid herself under the table.

“It’s not her fault,” your husband said from the adjacent hallway. You turned to him as he walked towards the table. He knocked on the surface a few times. Your daughter replied after a few seconds of silence with her own rhythmic knocks. Johnny smiled as he crouched down and guided her back to her seat. He kissed the top of her head before looking at you. You raised a brow, expecting an explanation.

“(D/N) may or may not’ve heard a certain word from a certain someone…that someone being her daddy,” his cheeks turned slightly red as he rubbed the back of his neck. You frowned.

“You son of a-”

“Careful. Don’t want her learnin’ any more words,” Johnny said with a raised brow and a smirk. You instantly closed your mouth. Your daughter stared at you sweetly, her head slightly tilted.

“Right,” you muttered. You turned back to your daughter. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, (D/N). You’re not a bad girl-we just can’t say bad words like that because it can hurt other people’s feelings. Okay?” you said. She nodded, her face lighting up slightly.

“Okay, Mommy,” (D/N) smiled. She paused for a moment as she hummed to herself, deep in thought. “Can I say ‘ass’?” she asked innocently. Johnny hid a smirk behind his hand as he stifled a laugh.

You're going to kill him.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

(S/N) swung his feet as you strapped him into the booster seat. Your husband cocked his head as you slammed your door shut, your nostrils flaring.

“Everything alright, love?” he asked. You raked your hands over your face as you glared back at your son. He bobbed his head along to the sound of the song playing on the car radio.

All of you were on a family day out when you remembered you had to grab a few things from the store. Your son wanted to come into the store while Kyle had to take a sudden phone call from Price. Your son pointed at the cashier and asked “Momma-why is that lady so fat?”. You couldn’t erase the shocked look on the woman’s face even if you could try.

You apologized profusely as you took your receipt and quickly hurried out of the store, your son complaining that you were holding his hand too tightly. You frowned as you stared at the young boy.

“Nothing. Let’s just go,” you waved as you rubbed your temples. You didn’t have the capacity to have a talk with your son at the moment. You’ll wait until you get home. Kyle shrugged as he put the car in reverse. The ride back home was rather quiet, minus the songs playing and your son singing along. Your husband pulled up to a stoplight, slipping his hand into yours.

“Why was that lady so fat?” your son asked. You slapped your other hand on your leg as you spun your head around.

“(S/N), we don’t say things like that, ever!” you shouted. Your son shrunk in his booster seat, his lips curving into a frown. “That is very, very rude! How would you feel if someone said something like that to you?” you demanded. Your son sniffed as he wrung his hands together.

“Love, please,” Kyle said. Your face was completely red as you looked back at him. “He’s only four-he doesn’t know any better,” he said calmly.

“I-I was just trying to be honest like you told me, Mommy,” (S/N) pouted. You unclench your jaw as you look into your son’s misty, chocolate-brown eyes. You exhaled through your nose as your shoulders lowered.

“It’s good to be honest, son. But we can’t say certain things because it might upset people. We need to be careful with our words,” you explained. Your son tilted his head as he resonated with your words.

“Okay, Mommy!” he said before going back to dancing to the music on the car radio. Your husband smiled at you, squeezing your hand gently as he moved the car forward.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

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a-leg-without-fear · 4 months ago

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Medium Peppermint latte for Matt Murdock with police reader that doesn't know that he's daredevil but she knows he's lying to her that get into an agurement but she storms off and on her night shift she got shot (nothing deadly)

Oooooohh I love this!! One peppermint latte, coming up!

It was a dangerous thing to be distracted.

Your mind chased itself in circles over the argument you'd had with Matt earlier. A near screaming match between you and the lawyer. Voices loud and strained as you debated the very fundamentals of your relationship.

"I just don't understand why you're lying to me!" you exclaimed, fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. Frustration and anxiety leaked into the edges of your chest like oil in water.

Matt blew out an irritated puff of air, "What exactly do you think I'm lying about?"

You threw him an incredulous look you knew he couldn't see. His dark hair was ruffled, the strands wild after his fingers had carded through them one too many times. Strong hands clutched at his hips.

"Why the fuck are you constantly covered in bruises? Where do you go at night? What aren't you telling me?" you questioned harshly. It was exhausting, repeating the same questions over and over again.

"One, I'm blind. Two, I don't go anywhere. Three, nothing!" Matt replied. An aggravated groan rumbled your chest. You'd been interrogating people long enough to know when someone was lying to you. Lawyer or not, you could see right through him.

"That's it. I'm leaving," you said with a grimace. You couldn't handle the lies. Each time they spouted from his mouth, another spike was driven into your heart. Why. Why did he feel like he needed to lie to you?

"Sweetheart, please," Matt called after you as you stormed away. Your work boots stamped along the hardwood floor. The cold doorknob dug into your palm as you tightly gripped it.

"I'll see you later. Come up with a better excuse by then," you said, wrenching open the door. The hinges squeaked under the sudden movement.

Matt shouted your name as you slammed the door behind you.

Now you sat in the car you shared with your partner, Stu. He was an older gentlemen. Beer belly stretching the buttons of his uniform, gray hair balding near the crown of his head, a warm smile typically stretched across his thin lips.

Stu was a kind man, and an even better partner. There wasn't anyone else on the force you'd rather spend your evening patrols with.

"A lot on your mind tonight?" he asked, lowering his coffee cup from his lips. Brown eyes traced the furrow in your brow and the frown lines surrounding your mouth.

"You could say that," you sighed in return. Your own coffee had long since grown cold, the drink sitting untouched in your cupholder. The crackle of the police radio filled the silence of the car.

"We've got a 10-65 at 56th and 11th. All nearby units reply," a feminine voice, Cheryl, said through the radio. You scooped up the plastic microphone from its place on the dashboard.

"This is patrol #8675. We are two blocks out. Heading over there now," you replied into the microphone. Stu turned the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to life. Cheryl's voice crackled through the speakers confirming your location.

"Should make for an interesting night," Stu mused as he pulled the car out of your typical parking spot. You huffed a laugh, reaching up to flick on the lights and siren at the top of the car.

As your cop car zipped through the streets of New York, your mind wandered back to the fight with Matt. What the hell was he keeping from you? What was so important to keep a secret that he'd risk your relationship over it? Did he think the half answers and weak apologies were cutting it? Were salvaging the tension between the two of you? You bit at your fingernails as your thoughts swirled.

Stu swerved the car to a stop in front of a jewelry store. The front window had been smashed, glittering shards of glass littered along the pavement. A blaring alarm screamed from somewhere inside the store.

About five men, from what you could tell, were frantically gathering as much jewelry as they could find. Shoveling necklaces and rings and loose gemstones into black sacks. A quick glance informed you that all of them were armed. Some having pistols shoved in their pockets or clutched in their hands, others having rifles and shotguns slung over their shoulders.

Dread pooled in your gut. Situations like these didn't end well. Someone was getting shot tonight., and you hoped to God it wouldn't be you.

It seemed that the robbers had noticed your arrival. Two of the men, both with automatic rifles, scrambled to the front of the store while brandishing their weapons. You took in a deep, rattled breath, then opened your door. The comforting weight of your pistol clutched in your hands grounded you as you positioned yourself behind the door, body shielded by the car with your gun held over the top.

"This is the NYPD! Come out with your hands above your heads!" you yelled at the men. A few exchanged looks between their masked faces.

"I ain't goin' back to jail!" one of the men, wearing a black jacket and holding an automatic rifle, screamed in defiance. He aimed the gun at where you stood behind the car door.

"Put down your weapon!" you shouted quickly. It was getting more difficult to hide the tremor in your voice. Stu clambered out of the driver's side and mirrored your position behind his car door, his own pistol gripped in shaking hands.

A loud bang echoed from the man in the jacket. Bright light flashed from the rifle and nearly made you squint. In a split second, piercing pain erupted from your left bicep. You cried out, ducking behind the car door, then gripped at the fresh wound in your arm. Thick spurts of blood leaked from the bullet hole.

"Let us go, old man, or you'll be next!" the man who'd shot you yelled. You grit your teeth at the shocks of agony that coursed through you with every breath.

"Drop the weapon and put your hands in the air!" Stu shouted back. You heard the hammer of his gun click as he loaded a round into the chamber. This is turning into a firefight.

The night air was thick with building tension. Static gathered under your skin, anxiety gripping your throat in a tight vice. The men in the jewelry store remained quiet as they seemed to wait for Stu's response.

"Holy shit," he breathed after a few tense moments.

Meaty thuds and grunts cut through the tense silence. The occasional pop of a gunshot ringing out, often cut off by a groan of pain and then a body hitting the ground. Metal pinged off solid objects like hitting a wall with a lead pipe.

You looked at Stu through the inside of the car. He was watching the scene unfold before him with concentrated focus. A glimmer of amazement shone in his squinted eyes.

"The hell's going on over there?!" you hissed, the throbbing in your arm making it difficult to form words. Stu opened and closed his mouth for a bit before responding.

"It's-It's Daredevil," he breathed with wide eyes. Your eyebrows shot into your hairline.

"What?!" you sputtered. Using your undamaged arm, you gripped at your car door and peered around the edge.

Sure enough, the red-suited vigilante bounced between the men in the jewelry store like a muscley ping-pong ball. Gloved fists colliding with masked faces, metal clubs slamming into stomachs and shins, red boots shoving back anyone who dared get too close. It was almost impressive, how effortlessly this guy moved.

The last of the men fell unconscious to the ground. Daredevil stood above the pile of thieves, broad chest heaving and a trail of blood leaking from his nose. His helmeted head tilted in your direction.

It may have been a trick of the light, but you swore you saw a whisper of your name cross his plump lips.

Daredevil darted out of the destroyed jewelry store and towards the cop car. You used your car door for leverage to bring yourself back to your feet. A light sway dizzied your mind as your wound continued to bleed.

Red filled your hazy vision. Daredevil stood in front of you, a frown pulling at his lips, as surprisingly gentle hands held you upright.

"You've been shot," the vigilante stated. The lenses in his mask nearly glowed crimson in the glare of the streetlights. You swallowed a nervous lump that'd gathered in your throat.

"Y-Yeah. Thanks for the assist," you mumbled in amazement. What the hell was Daredevil doing here? And why was he worried about you? You were just a run-of-the-mill, New York City cop. What was so special about you that had the Devil of Hell's Kitchen clutching you like you'd break?

"Let me bring you home," he breathed. The soft lilt of his request scratched at your brain. He sounded so familiar. Had you met him before?

"She needs a hospital," Stu called out over the top of the car. Daredevil's head tilted sharply at your partner's voice.

It was then that the recognition tickling your brain finally settled. The quirk at the corner of the vigilante's lips, the stubble brushed along his sharp jaw, the low tone of his voice.

Matt.

But... How? How? How the fuck was Matt Daredevil?

He'd seemed to notice the hitch in your breath. His focus shifted back to you, lensed eyes reflecting your shocked expression back at you.

"You alright, sweetheart?" he muttered quietly, just loud enough for only you to hear. Yup. That's Matt.

"He can take me home, Stu. I'll be fine," you said over your shoulder. You couldn't bare to pry your gaze away from the vigilante in front of you.

A smirk danced along Matt's lips. Subtle, teasing, almost begging you to say what you were thinking. You'd punch that smug look off his face if you could move your arms.

The two of you were definitely having a talk tonight.

#charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil fanfic #matt murdock fanfic #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x reader #300 followers celebration #writing prompt #request fulfillment

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wellgoslowly · 2 years ago

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Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!

Bookstore Girl

a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.

pairing: lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none

notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)

tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]

It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.

“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.

“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.

“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.

“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.

When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.

“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.

“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.

“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.

He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”

“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.

Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”

“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.

“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.

You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.

“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.

Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.

“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”

He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.

“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”

Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.

Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.

---

It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.

It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.

You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.

“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.

“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”

Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”

All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.

---

It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.

You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.

Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.

Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.

---

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.

“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.

“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.

“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.

“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.

“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.

Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.

After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.

“I'd love to.”

eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)

I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah

xoxo linnie <3

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decadesflooringla · 2 years ago

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