recs-and-things

[recs-and-things]

“ guilty as sin ”

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

if there’s no such as thing as bad thoughts, why is y/n feeling so guilty?

⚠️ cheating, swearing, breaking girl code, make out, sexual insinuation & while i was posting this there was random lightning and thunder so took that as a sign that this was pretty good

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The first thing Y/N noticed about Jason was his girlfriend. Okay, maybe that wasn't the first thing, but it was up there. Maybe the first thing she noticed was his hair, the way that sun shined around it, making his aura glow. Or maybe it was the way his eyes were so vibrant that she felt like she was drowning in the Blue Nile. Or, gods, his muscles. The way his shirt was barely able to conceal his abs. Then, his absolutely beautiful girlfriend, who surprise, surprise, was a daughter of Aphrodite.

Of course she knew she had to keep these feelings locked inside a vault. Especially at how she so easily befriended Piper, who if she knew about these feelings, would have Y/N’s head. But how was she supposed to? Whenever she saw him, basically doing nothing, her mind already had images of him flashing in her mind that she tried so desperately to flick away.

But once the feelings had gotten too intense, she had to tell someone. So she turned to the wisest person she knew, Annabeth Chase. She decided to walk to the Athena cabin after training. She found the blonde reading a book on her bed. She approached her, speaking up, “hey, can we talk?” she looked around, “privately?”

Annabeth nodded before leaving alongside Y/N. She led her to cabin 3, which was uninhabited since the disappearance of Percy.

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth began.

Y/N sighed before explaining the ordeal to the girl. Excluding certain fantasies about the boy that not even Zeus himself could get her to confess.

“As a girlfriend of a guy who everyone has a crush on,” she began, seeming annoyed at her own statement, “don't act on it.”

Y/N nodded, “yeah, I could never act on it, I mean, Piper’s my friend,” she paused and looked up at the daughter of Athena, “I’m not a bad person am I?”

“There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.”

But after a few months. After they found out the memories were fake, that Jason was a Roman demigod, that there was no relationship to begin with, Y/N had the guilty hope that they would break up. But no. Instead they continued dating? She was furious, while also hating herself every second of every day. She had thought that maybe after all this time the feelings would go away. But they didn't! They wouldn't! They couldn't!

Every time she saw the two of them together, she wanted to vomit. Especially when they’d act all couple-like and kissing and hugging and standing within a ten foot radius.

One day at archery practice, she was about to shoot, when she saw the couple walking nearby. She immediately sunk into herself. She drew back her arrow, sulking, until she heard a loud, “ow, fuck!”

She looked up, realizing that she had accidentally shot the foot of the son of Apollo that had been helping her. She gasped, “oh my gods, I’m so sorry.”

He sat on the grass, holding onto his bleeding foot, “dont worry about it,” he hissed through the pain. A few other campers ran over to help him over to the infirmary.

She awkwardly looked around, unsure of what to do.

“What happened, Y/N?” The sound of Piper’s voice behind her caught her attention.

She paused, looking up at the blond boy before back to Piper, “I got distracted and, uhm, accidentally shot him.”

“Is he okay?” Jason questioned.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she brushed off, “a little arrow in the foot never killed anyone.”

“Achilles would beg to differ,” he remarked with a smirk. Gods, that was going to be the death of her, The way his scar curved with his mouth. She liked to imagine he got the scar in a battle to the death against a Roman beast- or whatever, she didn't really understand what happened at that camp, other than the fact that they had really hot guys.

She must have been staring for too long as Piper looked back up at her boyfriend herself, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N panicked, “I should go see if he’s okay,” she ran off to the direction of the infirmary.

“You shot someone in the foot?!”

“Annabeth, I really don't feel like talking about this right now.”

“No, Y/N,” she stood in front of Y/N, “why?”

“Jason-”

Annabeth shook her head, “he has a girlfriend.”

“I know, that’s the problem-”

“She’s not the problem, Y/N,” the girl interrupted again, “you're being so immature, you have to get over this.”

Y/N turned around to see Piper and Jason laughing about something. She looked back at Annabeth, “I’ll try.”

That next week, she had gotten a date with a son of Hermes. It was a nice date, too. A picnic on the dock during the campfire.

“I was originally born in Minnesota, but then we moved to New Hampshire-” his voice was drowned out by her thoughts. She felt so… faithful to Jason. If it's make believe, why does it feel like a vow? She felt like he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh in her mind- “what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve never been to Michigan.”

He raised an eyebrow, “I asked if you liked strawberries?”

“Oh,” she looked at the strawberry she had accidentally crushed in her hand, “yeah.”

“You don't like me, do you?”

She shook her head, “no, nothing with you. You're great, this picnic is amazing, I’m just… I am so in love with one of my best friends’ boyfriend. I’m just trying to get over him.”

“Jason?”

She looked at him, her mouth agape, “how did you…?”

“A good guess.”

She hid her face in her hands, tears welling in her eyes, “am I allowed to cry?”

He pulled her into a hug, “go talk to him.”

New advice? She’ll take it!

She stood up, “I’m really sorry, I’ll make it up to you, promise!” she claimed before running off to the fire. Everyone was beginning to disperse, when the blond hair caught her eye. She rushed over to him, “I need to talk to you.”

He looked confused, but nodded, leading her into his cabin, “what’s up?”

“I have a huge fucking crush on you,” she blurted, “I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. And I thought that if I told you, it would go away. I’m sorry.”

He stayed silent for a minute, thinking. He ran his fingers through his hair. Did everything about him have to be this fucking hot?

“I have a girlfriend.”

“I know.”

He shook his head, “no, I need to remind myself of that. Y/N,” he walked closer to her, taking her hands in his, “I really like you, Y/N.”

She let out a deep breath, “Jason, that doesn't help.”

“It doesn't help me either, that’s why I’ve been trying to ignore it, but,” his right hand let go of hers, finding its way to her lips, “look at you.” He slowly leaned down to kiss her. Once, twice, thrice, four- over and over again. She wasn't even sure when she was suddenly pinned to his bed as their kisses got messier. His fingers traced the skin under her shirt, sending shivers down her spine, gasping when he would zap her.

“Jase,” she breathed, “this is really bad.”

He bit her bottom lip, “I know, we shouldn't-”

She kissed him again, “no.”

He leaned back, “Y/N, we really can’t.”

“I know, I know,” she heavily breathed, “but what are you saying?”

He stood up, forcing his glasses back on, “I need to go talk to Piper,” he grabbed her hand, helping her up, “go back to your cabin, let’s just forget about this.”

“No.”

“Y/N, please, we can talk some other time, but please, just go for now.”

She nodded, tears in her eyes, “right, okay,” she followed behind as he walked to the door, opening it for her. She looked up at him, “goodnight, Jason.”

He gently touched her arm, “goodnight.”

She walked out feeling shame and guilt fill her body. She felt it in all her limbs, making it hard for her to walk, feeling pulled down by her emotions, she wondered, without ever touching his skin, how could I be guilty as sin?

[recs-and-things]

bookends, bestfriends, deadends

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x reader, 1.6k Warnings: slow burn, once again and as always with my love Jason this is NOT canon-compliant, Jason may be a tiny bit ooc but I tired Summary: In the months between saving Hera and setting sail for New Rome, Jason finds himself making a friend Authors note: ok, y��all, here’s the deal; I took a nap and woke up with an idea, so I started writing; then I realized I needed set up, so I wrote this. Now I have a full fic that doesn’t include my original idea, so I will have to make pt: 2, but at least it’s already almost all the way written

Camp was far too busy this year; even for the off-season, it felt like there were campers everywhere. With all the bustle, it was hard to find a moment of peace. That’s why you’d taken to the woods that day. Following the path you’d walked a million times to a little outcrop of ruins not far from the beach, deep enough to not be disturbed. You’d taken a thick blanket and draped it over a vaguely couch-shaped block of stone ages ago to use as a reading nook. It was calm and peaceful and empty, usually.

This time, when you got close enough to see your little piece of peace, there was already someone there. A blonde boy with a scar on his lip sitting on your faux couch and squinting at the book in his hand. Jason Grace. Of course, you knew who he was, everyone knew of him and Piper and Leo, all working to get ready for the next great prophecy. 

Sneaking up on a former Roman soldier didn’t seem like the best plan, so you’d spoken out. “Guess this place isn’t so secret after all,” geez, what an opener.

Jason looked up with a start and got to his feet before you could say anything else. “Hi, hey, sorry, is this your spot? I wasn’t sure who’s it was, so I stayed to read some. I can go.” 

“Oh no, please, you don’t have to,” you were quick to put up your hands and stop him from leaving. You two hadn’t necessarily talked before, but he had always seemed nice at meals and campfires, if not a little awkward. “You were here first. I can leave if you want to be alone.”

Jason paused, it seemed he was actually taking you in now, noticing the book in your hand, Don Quixote as opposed to the copy of War and Peace he held. “I don’t mind company,” he offered you a small nervous smile, it was so pure you had to just stare at it for a second before responding. 

“Neither would I,” you finally said, returning the smile. You walked over and sat down tucking your legs under you and leaving plenty of room for Jason to sit on the other side. 

He joined and read next to you for what felt like both hours and minutes. Two days later, you had beaten him there, so when he arrived, you smiled and scooted to the left, giving him room again on your right. Over the next month, you crossed paths at the ruins what must have been a dozen times. There was never much conversation; it was more of a silent agreement to enjoy each other’s company, and each day, the distance between your shoulders seemed to get ever so slightly smaller. 

After a while, you got comfortable being directly next to him. Your shoulders would brush each time Jason moved to turn the page, and you couldn't help but notice how warm and strong he was. Silent meetings became small discussions about your current read, which turned into talks about other books you’d recommend to each other, which eventually morphed into a solid friendship. You would invite him to eat with your cabin since he had no one else at his. He would update you on the progress of the ship and the quest, you even got to know the other campers involved. 

Over the next few months, your lives became completely intertwined. You spent most of your day with each other. You watched him train for the quest, pushing his limits in sparring sessions until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. You would drag him out to your spot in the woods on days when he’d gotten so focused he had to be forced to take a break. You’d even tried to help him get some memories back. He would eat with you, read with you, help you with whatever chores you had around camp, anything to spend more time with together. 

He was the first person you turned to when you had something to say. He was the only one who remembered which campfire songs were your favorites or which books you’d reread depending on your mood. You cared about him so deeply, and you weren’t even sure how you’d come to feel so much in so little time. You truly hadn’t realized how much you needed him around you until you thought about just how soon he’d be leaving.

Of course, he would go back to Camp Jupiter; you knew that. This was never meant to be permanent; you were sure he missed his old life, his old friends, his old home. But part of you, somewhere in the deepest, most selfish part of your heart, wanted him to stay. You wanted him to forget about Rome, and Jupiter, and the quest. You wanted him to stay here with the strawberry fields and the books and the beach and with you. You wanted him to forget his sense of duty to a place that never cared and stay with someone who would give their whole heart away just to see him be happy for a moment longer. It was a feeling that filled you with guilt every time it crossed your mind.

It had occupied your thoughts nearly the entire day when Jason came to your cabin that evening. He knocked on the door until one of your siblings answered, and they called you over, muttering something about stupid and lovesick and so annoying that you hadn’t totally caught. 

You stepped onto the porch and closed the cabin door, leaving Jason and you alone in the dim light of the setting son. He was handsome as ever, a fact that you had resolved not to dwell on; plenty of people found their closest friends to be stunningly beautiful, it wasn’t a big deal. 

In fact, it was totally normal for someone to notice exactly when their best friend had skipped their usual haircut and started letting the military style grow or how their eyes exploded with color when the sun hit them just right. And, of course, there was no deeper reason for why you would pick up on every scrape or bruise he’d gotten from training. You were just hyper-observant, never mind that it only applied to one person.

As you took him in, scanning for the weariness you so often saw and he so often dismissed, you noticed more than anything how nervous he was. “What’s up?”

“Hey, um, I just wanted to, well.” He took a deep breath and let his words spill out a mile a minute. He told you that the Argo II would be ready to fly any day now. He told you how they were going to find Percy and how the first place they were going to check was New Rome. He brought up his old life, a life he wanted to remember, a life he thought he would remember when he got back there. These were all things you’d know and that filled you with dread, but you let him talk without interrupting. His rambling soon turned to a topic you haven’t expected, it turned to you. He told you how important you were to him, how much you’d helped him adjust to life at camp, and how much he appreciated everything you’d done for him. 

As he went on and on, you felt your heart begin to pound. The way he was talking lit a spark inside your gut, and the borderline desperation in his voice made you dare to hope. The emotion in his eyes made you think maybe, just maybe, he felt the same kind of connection that you felt with him. You could tell it was going somewhere important, somewhere that made him nervous and hopefully at the exact same time.

“I guess I just realized while we were planning in the bunker,” he began to close in on his point. “How important you are to me, and I can’t imagine what it’d be like without you. You can say no of course, it’s a lot to ask of anyone but,” he took another breath. “Do you want to come with me to New Rome?”

That wasn’t exactly what you were expecting. The funny feeling in your gut shifted and morphed, flashing through disappointment for a brief moment. As Jason waited for an answer, you had to process exactly what he’d asked. Going back to New Rome meant he was going back to his old life, a fact you were all too aware of, but now, maybe you didn’t have to lose him to it. He still wanted you by his side. He still wanted you to be a part of his life.

“Yes,” you finally replied. “Yes, of course, I’ll go,” you watch the relief wash over him, his nerves visibly dispersing as one of the widest smiles you’d ever seen etched itself across his face. 

In the next moment, he wrapped his arms around you. It was a bone-crushing hug that squeezed the air from your lungs, and you wrapped your own arms around him as tightly as you could. “You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispered to you as you tried to stop your heart from exploding. This wasn’t how you wanted it, but at least for now, this would be enough.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

There's pt1 :) part two is almost done already because I wrote most of it before I even started all this, but what I can say, the keyboard got away from me. let me know if any of y'all want to be tagged in pt2 or in my general Jason taglist.

[recs-and-things]

Waitress

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x mortal!reader, 2.1k Warnings: NOT canon compliant, this takes place in my world where Piper and Jason realized they were best as friends right after lost hero and Leo never got with Caylpso. also TOA never happened because it makes me sad. Also somewhat not proof read Summary: Jason has been sneaking off for weeks and Leo is detirmened to find out why. Or alternativly: Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Percy go snooping in Jasons buisness Authers note: Hey hey! first fic in what feels like a million years! I definitely have to shake the rust off a bit but this was a fun one to get back into it! I was listening to Waitress at work and got this idea so i ran with it. Honestly not much of the actual relationship, theres a lot of set up and other characters but I think I may do a part two if this does well :)

Jason Grace was a busy man. Going between camps, building shrines to all the minor gods, serving as Pontifex Maximus, taking trips to Olympus to meet deities, and head counselor duties. Everyone knew he had no time on his schedule. His friends were lucky if they could get him to spare an hour to catch up, much less get him to a bonfire. So why on earth is it that Jason Grace would take upwards of two hours out of his day, three days a week, to walk out of camp and go to who knows where?

Leo was determined to find out. He’d watched Jason sneak off for the past month, and he was sick of wondering. He tried to bring it up but just got a red-faced muttered excuse about it’s just a walk in the woods and I have to finish my work before he'd disappeared into his cabin.

“I think we’re lost,” Percy said, stopping suddenly and causing Piper to almost slam into his back.

“We are not lost!” Leo exclaimed, “I swear he went this way,” 

“We’re miles from camp,” Piper butt in, “he could be anywhere,” she crossed her arms and glared at Leo. 

“We should turn back before someone notices we’re gone,” Annabeth added, looking up and down the road they were on. Leo had seen Jason sneaking off just before lunch and had convinced his friends to follow him. Now, here they were, on some back road heading through the woods surrounding the camp a mile and a half away from the border.

“Guys, c'mon! Don’t you want to know where he’s been going!” Leo turned back to the group. “He can’t have gotten far.” He kept walking backward in the same direction they’d been heading for the past 10 minutes. For a little while, they could see Jason walking along the side of the road, far ahead, but they’d kept their distance so he wouldn’t notice them. Then he made a turn at an intersection, and they’d lost sight of him. 

“Maybe he really is just out for a walk?” Piper offered.

Leo hualted now, “For two hours? No way, he’s definitely up to something out here.” He stared at the group, waiting for someone to disagree. No one did. It was definitely unusual behavior from the son of Jupiter to take so much time away from his work.

“We’ve been walking for 25 minutes. I say we go 5 more and then head back,” Annabeth spoke up, sending Leo a you owe me glance. 

“Perfect, 5 minutes!” Leo returned an appreciative smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road with his friends in tow.

They rounded a corner a minute later, and Leo couldn’t help the I told you so grin that came across his face. In front of them, just a few more meters down the road was a genuine 1950s-style roadside diner with the name The Doo-Wop Diner plastered over the door. “See!” Leo pointed triumphantly, “Now imagine if we had turned back when you quitters had wanted to,” 

The group walked up to the diner, rolling their eyes at Leo’s antics. They peered in through the windows that lined the front. It was cute, with pastel blue on the walls, 50s-style booths, a jukebox in the corner, and a countertop bar.

“Is he even in there?” Percy asked, huddled next to Annabeth and scanning the restaurant.

“He’s got to be,” Leo squinted from Annabeth's other side.

“There he is!” Annabeth pointed to the far end of the bar where Jason was sitting. He had a cup of coffee and an open book in front of him.

“What’s he doing in there?” Leo asked as if any of them knew. “He walks all the way out here for ‘New York's best black coffee’?” He read off the sign in the window. 

The group looked at him for another minute in deliberation before Piper let out a quiet gasp. “It’s not the coffee he’s here for,” she was staring at something on the other end of the restaurant with wide, knowing eyes. “Look,”

When the three others looked back at Jason, they saw a soft, almost nervous smile on his face while he gave a slight wave. When they followed his gazeto the other side of the resturant, they all came to the same conclusion that Piper had. Jason Grace had walked nearly thirty minutes away from camp to a rinky-dink old diner on the side of the road to see you.

You were dressed in a 1950s waitress uniform and serving some of that aforementioned black coffee to an old couple. When you caught sight of Jason, your face lit up, and you waved back. As soon as you finished pouring the coffee, you brought the pot over to where Jason was sitting, even though he still had a full cup in front of him. The four standing outside were frozen in place as they watched the two inside interact. 

“Hey!” You said as you approached. The smile you had on now was so much more genuine than your usual customer service smile. “I missed you last week,”

Jason’s smile mirrored your own as he put a napkin between the pages of his book to mark his place. “Hey. Yeah, sorry, I had a last minute thing, uh, out of town, I had to do,” he had been called back to Camp Jupiter to resolve a minor god conflict and hadn’t been able to come in at his usual time. 

“Ooo, more of your mystery out-of-town work?” He’d mentioned it several times but, for obvious reasons, couldn’t tell you the whole story, and being the golden boy he was, he couldn’t bring himself to flat-out lie. “Is it something illegal?” You asked.

Jason let out a laugh at that. “It’s definitely not illegal.” He pushed his glasses back into place. 

“Are you sure? Because based on what you’ve told me, it’s out of town, it’s odd hours, it’s highly secretive, and it’s hard work.” You listed things out, counting them on your fingers. “You’re either selling drugs or possibly a secret agent.” You finished with wide, questioning eyes.

He laughed again at your list. You always had a way of putting his mind at ease. When it was swimming in work, and he couldn’t think straight, you always managed to bring him back to sanity. “It’s all boring, I promise. I’d much rather be here.” 

Your grin returned. “Oh really? I didn’t know you held our fine establishment in such high regard.” While you spoke, the cook rang a harsh bell and shouted, "Order up!”

“Thanks, Cal,” You called while you grabbed the two burger plates from the kitchen and walked them around the counter to deposit them at a table nearby. Jason watched you while you worked, the soft smile never once leaving his face as you handed out napkins and refilled some water. 

Once you were back, the conversation picked up exactly where it had left off. “It has its selling points,” he mused. The other half of that sentence, mostly about cute waitresses with the brightest smiles and the prettiest eyes, stayed caught in his throat. The pair slipped into an easy routine they’d established long ago. Jason would sit and drink his coffee while you bustled around, taking orders, running food, cleaning the occasional spill, all the while keeping up a steady stream of small talk. 

It was a mutually beneficial relationship. You got a bit of conversation to distract from the monotony of your work, and his blue eyes always seemed to make your day go smoother. Jason got a much-needed break from everything Greco-Roman. At camp, he always had so much responsibility, and so many expectations were weighing him down. Here, he didn’t have to worry about all that. You didn’t know who his dad was or what quests he’d been on, and you didn’t care. You liked him for him and not for the hero he was supposed to be. 

You returned to your spot across from him and picked up a rag to look like you were still doing something. “Have you told anyone at that camp of yours about this place?” You knew Camp Half-Blood existed. You also knew it wasn't anywhere close to normal based on the folks that came through, but they had the best strawberries even in the off-season, so you didn’t ask many questions.

“No way. Trust me, you do not want them coming here,” Jason had told you about his friends, minus a few details, but he had always emphasized that they were trouble.

“Uh huh, so then, who's staring at us from the window?” You asked with a sideways grin on your face.

“What?” Jason wiped his head around in time to see four panicked faces duck below the window sill outside. “Oh, by all the gods!” He muttered angrily under his breath and made a beeline for the door. “I’ll be right back,” he called to you, knowing you’d watch his book and half cup of coffee.

“Take your time,” you called back as he pushed open the door and stepped outside. 

For a second, all the demigods stared at each other without moving. Four crouched on the ground, wishing he hadn’t seen them, and one glaring at the group from above. Jason grabbed the front of Leo’s shirt and hoisted him up so he stood with his hands raised in surrender. “What are you doing here,” he hissed.

“Hey! Calm down, calm down,” Leo tried a friendly smile but was met with a glare. “We just, uh went for a walk?” He offered an explanation that sounded more like a question

“Wrong answer,” Jason sent his glare at the other three. “Did you all follow me?” He let Leo go and took a step back so he could glare at everyone all at once instead of having to shift his gaze.

“Leo made us come,” Piper threw him under the bus.

“Oh gee, thanks, beauty queen. It's nice to know where your loyalties lie.” Leo shot back, adjusting his shirt front.

Percy gave Jason a sly grin. “We were curious, but we never would have come if we knew you had a secret girlfriend out here,”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Jason cut him off. 

Percy put up his own hands, “Sorry, secret crush,” he corrected.

“She isn't! I don't-” Jason was full-on flustered now.

“Does that mean she’s up for grabs?” Leo asked. He looked back inside before getting smacked upside the back of the head by Annabeth. “What? She cute!”

When Jason looked back through the window he caught your eye and you sent him a questioning, yet very amused, glace. Jason had a bit of panic at that and quickly moved to usher the four away from the window and back towards the road. “Absolutely not! First of all, she’s a person; she can’t be up for grabs, and secondly, you can’t meet her!”

“What? Why not, she seems nice,” Annabeth asked.

“She is nice! And she's normal, and she doesn’t need to know any of you,” Jason managed to get them all about 10 feet from the front door. “Go back to camp. Just follow this road east for a mile, turn right at the second intersection, go straight for another half-mile, and you’ll see the border.” Jason gave the hurried directions and prayed to whichever god would listen that they’d all just leave.

“Whoa, man, we walked all the way out here, and now you're just gonna send us away?” Leo asked, putting a hand over his chest in fake offense.

“Yes,” Jason shot back flatly.

Piper spoke up next, “Wait, what’s her name? How long have you been coming here? How’d you even find this place? Does she like you back? It looked like she did.”

“Really?” Jason asked before shaking his head and focusing again. “I mean, I am not answering that,” he was still trying to shew the group away, but clearly, it wasn’t working. 

“Well, do they have good food here?” Percy added

“I saw ‘Breakfast all day’ on one of the signs,” Annabeth walked around Jason and back towards the door.

“And that burger meal she brought out looked really good,” Leo added. The four demigods went right past Jason and headed for the front door. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jason muttered as his friends ignored him and went in. “This is not good,” he said to himself, following the group back inside. They obviously had no intention of leaving, and he figured the next best course of action would be to simply die of shame. He knew this day would come; someone would catch him sneaking off, and his best-kept secret would become his worst nightmare. He just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Ahhhh first fic in a long ass time, its not my best work but personally I liked the plot so I got a little carried away and might have to make a part 2

[recs-and-things]

heyy I've heard your requests are open! Could you do like a Jason Grace x gf reader where the reader has severe anger issues, but since Jason is rlly calm he is the only one who can handle her, and calm her down? I'm such a sucker for sunshine bf! X grumpy gf! trope haha

pairing: jason grace x gf!ares!reader

summary: in which you're very tempted to murder Hazel's magic (magically annoying) horse, but Jason's there to prevent that from happening.

no particular place in the heroes of the olympus timeline, but they're on Argo II.

wc: 1.2k

warning/s: cursing, jason may be ooc, she/her pronouns, anger issues, jason's nickname for reader is pompeii because volcano n stuff

note: thank you for your request anon <33 i hope this lives up to your expectations. enjoy!

short oneshot under the cut :: not edited

The Argo II became more of a home to the eight demigods during their months of travel. Even though the ship would most probably get destroyed beyond even Leo's repair by the time they finished their quest of destroying Gaea, that didn't stop them from finding comfort within the Celestial bronze walls.

During that morning, most of the demigods were in the dining room, enjoying their breakfast. They were all tired and sluggish, since the night before wasn't kind to them. Usually they would take shifts when it came to guarding the ship, but everyone was awake last night due to the mini army of winged terrors that came across the flying ship, which caused them to set down on the sea near the land.

They all slept for less than four hours, and they all wanted nothing more but to add to those hours of sleep.

"GODDAMN THIS STUPID HORSE!"

Well, most of them slept. It seemed that one of them didn't find sleep as luxurious as the rest did that night.

"How does she have this much energy? It's like, seven in the morning," Percy groaned, almost faceplanting into his blue pancakes if it weren't for Annabeth's quick reflexes to hold her boyfriend's head up.

"I SWEAR TO MY DAD'S ROMAN COUNTERPART I WILL TEAR YOU TO TINY LITTLE PIECES YOU HUNK OF SHIT!"

"She's a daughter of Ares alright," Frank chuckled tiredly, rubbing his eyes. "Only she can be heard this clearly when she's all the way on the other side of the ship."

"What horse is she talking about? I thought the stables were empty," Piper wondered, not bothering to tame her typhoon hair as she sipped her orange juice.

"THAT'S MY SHIRT YOU DUMBASS — ARION THE FUCKING HAY IS RIGHT THERE — STOP CHEWING MY DAMN SHIRT!"

It seemed that Arion decided to pay them a little visit now that they were set on a monster-free dock. That would explain Hazel's absence from the table, and how she reappeared in the doorway. She turned to Jason, who was trying to shovel as much food into his mouth as he could so he can go to the stables.

"She's gonna explode again," Hazel panted, putting a hand on her knee to support herself. "I tried getting her to breathe, like you normally do, Jason, but she's not listening. She might actually go through with killing Arion this time."

Jason swallowed, wiping his mouth as he stood up. "I'll go handle it. You," he pointed to Hazel, "eat."

Leo looked up from his rubber band helicopter to stare at his best friend. "Good luck, buddy. She hasn't bit off your head yet, but that could happen any day now."

Jason chuckled. "Thanks, Leo, but I'll be fine." He left the room.

More cursing and shouts that sounded dangerously close to war cries made Jason quicken his pace as he crossed the deck to go down into the stables, where he could see flickering shadows of a girl and a horse.

"If you bite at my shirt again, I'll shove a grenade down your throat and use your insides as monster bait."

Jason stopped walking, to see if you could actually control yourself this time.

Chomp.

"THAT'S IT, I'M GETTING MY GRENADES —"

You're thundering footsteps grew louder as you approached the doorway to leave the stables. Jason stepped forward just as you were about to exit the room, putting a placating hand on your shoulder. "Woah woah, slow down there Pompeii. No need to resort to violence so quickly, hmm?"

Strands of hay were poking out from your hair — which wasn't as messy as Piper's but it was well on its way there. There were dark circles under your angry eyes, indicating that you didn't sleep a wink that night. Your knuckles were white from how hard you were balling your fists, and heavy breaths escaped your lips. Jason swore that he could see a little bit of smoke coming out of your ears.

"That goddamn horse is gonna die," you seethed, your chest rising and falling from your angry inhales and exhales. "Step out of the way, Grace."

Jason shook his head, a calming smile on his lips as he moved his hands to your hair, picking out the hay before resting on your flaming cheeks, flushed with annoyance. "Breathe with me."

"I gotta give that stupid piece of shit what it deserves —"

"I know, I know, but you gotta breathe with me first, okay?"

"But —"

"Breathe. In..." He took a deep breath in, sending you a pointed look when you didn't follow. His scolding glance made you mutter some colorful words under your breath before following along with him.

"Out..."

You exhaled with him. You could feel your anger boil down, and Jason saw and felt your shoulders let out the tension in it.

"In..." you closed your eyes.

"Out..."

You opened them once you sensed that Jason was done. "How are you feeling?" He asked you.

"Better. Still a little annoyed, but I'm better."

"Remember what we said?"

You glared a little at Jason, before sighing and looking away. "I shouldn't act on my anger unless necessary."

"And was it necessary now?"

"No..."

Jason's smile grew, putting his palm under your chin to make you look at him so he could give you a small peck on your lips. "You look like you haven't slept. How about you rest in your cabin for the day, let the rest of us handle the monsters and the bird crap on the deck?"

You shrugged, acting like you didn't really care, an act that didn't convince Jason, judging from the way you leaned into his touch. "Sure, whatever. As long as someone else makes sure that damned horse is gone by the time I'm awake." You casted a heated glare at Arion behind you. The horse simply snorted, bending down to eat the hay that you were trying to get him to eat instead of your shirt moments before.

Jason nodded, his blonde hair swaying slightly with the movement. "Deal. Let's get some food in your system before you head to bed, okay?"

"Fine."

You let Jason lead you out of the stables and into the dining room, where everyone was.

The silence that followed your arrival was awkward and tense, like they were still waiting for some aftershock of your anger.

They finally breathed when you and Jason squeezed into a chair and Jason gave you food that you ate in silence, a pensive expression on your face as your eyes were focused only on the food in front of you, paying no mind to the stares of your fellow demigods."

"How do you do it?" Leo sighed, launching his helicopter, which flew out of the room. "Even back at camp, not even her siblings could contain her. That takes skill, man."

Your half sister Clarisse, despite being known for her issues with controlling her anger, could hardly restrain you when someone decided to tick you off.

Jason shrugged, staring lovingly at you, his girlfriend, cheeks slightly puffed from the food you were chewing. "I don't know man. I just do it."

But deep down, Jason knew the truth. You would never calm down unless you let yourself be calmed down by someone you completely trusted.

Being able to make you see through your anger was not a skill Jason had, it was simply the one of the perks of being your boyfriend, and the one person you trusted more than yourself.

And Jason would rather jump into Tartarus than let anyone else have the privilege that you entrusted to him.

[recs-and-things]

Hi could you please write one where reader gets assigned as Leo's tutor cuz he's failing math so they go to his house for her to teach him math but they just end up making out instead (like, HEATED making out, like, very intensely)

I'm sorry but the Bad Boy Supreme is not failing his maths classes. So I changed it to English :] enjoy the 2.6k of golden hour! &lt;3

Studying no longer means student dying---Leo Valdez x Tutor!reader [making out. a lot]

»»————-　★　————-««

You sipped your apple juice and set the cup down, watching Leo continue to rest his forehead on the textbooks spread out in front of you on the cold concrete floor that you were sprawled across to fight the summer heat. “Are you just gonna go to sleep, or?”

“Why,” he said with a voice that was definitely smirking. It made your stomach feel funny. “You tryna get into my-”

“No, I’m trying to get into your mum’s wallet, actually,” you shot back, and finished your drink, the ice clinking around the bottom of the glass. You knew you’d won the argument and just waited for Leo to remember that he actually needed to pay attention if he wanted to not fail his class instead of bugging him. 

The flock of birds in the sky around your balcony both squawked and swooped at each other, acting a lot like you both this late afternoon as Leo tried to put off studying for as long as he could and you made a new playlist as he groaned and flopped about on the pillows you’d brought in from the couch. 

You were glad you weren’t the one having to concentrate because you didn’t think you’d be able to if Leo insisted on sitting there in the light of golden hour.

“All you have to do is read this one act, and then answer a few of the questions your teacher set. Then you’re done, okay?” You said a few minutes later when Leo hadn’t moved. “It’ll take twenty minutes at most. Besides, you’re a genius.”

Leo sat up with eyes squinted against the bright and then glared at the dog eared energy drink stained paperback sitting on the piles of worksheets and your laptops. 

You glanced at the streaks beneath his eyes and then down to his hands. He had very pretty hands, only his finger-nails had been bitten down til the skin around them was red and torn. You wanted to reach out and squeeze his hand, but you just tried for a comforting smile, “you really don’t want to do this, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I just can’t…” Leo said, staring out at the powerlines and tops of trees in front of him. He grinned and waved a hand, “anyways, I’ve got a much better id-”

“If this is another sex joke I’m pushing you off the balcony,” you said bluntly, and then let your tone soften. “Don’t just change the subject, because you can’t change your subjects. You have to do this.”

“I know!” Leo burst, his voice breaking, and then pulled his knees to his chest and screwed up his eyes, arms around his legs. “I- I’m sorry. That was loud.”

You gave him a moment to slow down his breathing and rub his face tiredly before you spoke. “If you can tell me, why do you think you can’t read?”

“I can do it, like, I’m not dumb.” he said defensively, and turned away a little, his chin on knee. “But it’s so hard to just start reading when I know that it’ll take me ages and give me a headache and I won’t get what they’re saying anyway. It’s stupid-”

You reached out and grabbed his hand at that last part, watching him whip around with a red face. “You’re not dumb, or stupid. And, Leo, not everyone’s good at everything. You’re just so math-y that you need a weakness. And it’s not your fault your brain is doing that self preservation thing, it knows that you’ll hate what you’re about to do, so it’s trying to protect you.”

Leo sniffled and nodded quickly, his little grin hidden by his arm as he hunched over. You squeezed his hand. “Don’t be mean to your brain when it’s just trying to look after you.”

“Okay… okay.” he said, and sat up, face red while he grinned harder. The sun glowed behind him like a halo and made his dark curls light up. “...Thanks.”

“All good,” you said, pretending not to notice how he didn’t stop clutching your hand. It made your chest light so you smiled at him. “Now, how about I read one character and you read the other?” 

»»————-　★　————-««

“I brought Starbucks!”

You looked up from your laptop and pulled your headphones out of your ears, the white cords tangling round your fingers as you stuffed them into your pocket. “Hey Valdez.”

“Hey yourself,” Leo said, doing that thing with his face where he tried not to smile. It was endearing, but his smile itself was just as cute. He put the drinks down on the ground next to you and collapsed onto the cushion he’d claimed, digging through his bulky backpack full of robotics club things and pulled out a few pieces of paper stapled together. He was waving it far too happily for you to read anything so you waited for him to burst. “I got a C!”

“No way,” you breathed, and then leapt up and grabbed the paper. It was his essay response you’d helped him study for last week. He got a C. “No way! Dude, that’s amazing!”

“Who knew I could be so good at English,” he smirked, hands in the pockets of his green army jacket. Then he let out a little yelp when you pulled him into a tight hug that smelt like machinery grease and incense and his laundry detergent. 

You sat back down and let him pull out his things a minute later, sipping the drink he’d brought over once your fridge had started to complain about its empty shelves. You couldn’t help that snacks were just great for studying. And the chocolate wafers seemed to motivate Leo greatly. 

“I thought your English teacher hated you,” you said, not really knowing how that situation had gone down. You didn’t know any of his teachers really, except the principal that had contacted you first, after you’d done tutoring for a few of her other students. 

You went to the school a few blocks from Leo’s, but you’d gone to primary school together and only lived a street apart. Teachers preferred tutors from other schools, because then they knew that their students weren’t just copying each-others work. It wasn’t a very full proof plan, but you hadn’t complained when Leo had shown up with a bag over his shoulder and equally as large ones under his eyes.

It’d been a semester and they were still there, but when he grinned at you, it wasn’t fake. 

He waved his hand away, “nah, she got fired cause she started selling weed to the year twelves before their exams or something, I dunno. I got a new one, Mr Blofis, he’s kinda weird, but he’s nice. And he brings swords in sometimes.”

“Why didn’t we think of that before?” you scoffed sarcastically, moving your books away as Leo dumped a binder as thick as the dictionary in front of you both. “I should’ve brought weapons to help you concentrate.” 

“Shuddup,” Leo muttered, picking up his drink that he probably shouldn’t have considering how much caffeine was in there, but he started sculling it anyway, and handed over the new book his class was studying. 

»»————-　★　————-««

Leo glared at you.

It wasn’t a look you were used to, so you lowered your laptop screen and raised your eyebrows. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He fumed in the doorway leading to the balcony you’d spent endless hours on together, his shoulders bunched up and his bulky backpack slipping from his grip. Then he stormed forwards and held out a sheet of paper in your face, “I found this, today.” 

“Huh?” You asked, sitting up and taking the form from him, assuming he’d failed an assignment, but then he’d be mad at himself, not you. You’d hug him and he’d complain about teachers for a little bit then you’d go inside and play Mario Kart and eat chocolate wafers that would get stuck in his teeth. 

Your eyes widened as you scanned the document. “...Right.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” Leo snapped, “I’ve been wasting your afternoons for ages when my tutoring was over months ago!”

You looked down at your socks and wrung your hands together while you tried to think of what to say. It was true, though. Leo’s mum had stopped paying and the school had stopped sending emails, but apparently no one had told Leo that. Including you. He stood above you, shaking with anger. 

Leo screwed his face up, “I’m not a charity case, I don’t need you to lie to me about-”

“You were never a charity case, Leo,” you interrupted before he went on a misplaced tangent as he tended to do. Then you rolled your eyes kindly. “And you never wasted my afternoons.” 

“But-”

“It was selfish,” you said bluntly, and tried for a smile. “I just really like you.”

Leo’s shoulders sank, and he blinked stupidly. “Huh?”

“I pretended you had to come over longer than you needed to so I could keep hanging out with you, but I get that I was just forcing you to do schoolwork, it was mean.” You understood that he was going to leave now, he had no fake reasons to stay and lay his legs over your lap and make stupid jokes until dinner time. 

At least he’d know he was never a charity case. “You’re getting C’s and B’s in all of you essays now, and you’ve got that grammar checker too, so the school ended the contract.”

He didn’t say anything. You sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“You really like me?”

 “That’s what you got from that?” You raised an eyebrow. Then you patted the cushion next to you and Leo plopped onto it immediately, eyes wide. Then you squinted at him. “What were you even upset about? At the end of the day, you were getting free tutoring anyway.”

Leo shrugged, “I’m sure there was a reason.”

“You’ve forgotten, haven't you.”

“But you like me?” 

“You get very fixated, don’t you?” You smiled, and turned to afternoon sun fading over the powerlines and birds flitting around. Then you opened your arm over his shoulder and hugged him. “Course I like you, Valdez. Even if you eat all my food.” 

“Not my fault you’ve got good food.”

He was incredibly close. It made you face heat up because his hair was tickling your shoulder and his fingers tapped randomly on the space between you. Maybe it’d been selfish to not tell him, but god, it was sort of worth getting to see him a few times during the week. 

Leo was just so pretty. 

He glanced at you, “what?”

“Nothing,” you answered quickly, looking away from the little spatter of freckles across his nose and the warmth of his eyes. 

Then he poked your side with a curious grin, “what?”

“Nothing!” you shot back, wiggling away from his nimble fingers that tried to tickle you as he laughed. You kicked at his legs gently to scramble back through the pillows, laughing as you did so. “Hey!”

Leo slipped and made an odd yelping sound, then he managed to crash into you. 

You rubbed your face, chuckling, at his clumsiness. You sat up. Leo stared up at you with a red face, his shaky arms holding himself up on either side of you. He gulped, eyes moving between yours quickly. 

It was at this point that you both should’ve pulled away and laughed, going back to finding snacks and laughing over nothing, but then that window passed and Leo was turner redder by the second. His eyes moved away from your eyes slowly, and you reached to slide your fingers next to his slowly.

Leo’s chest rose and fell quickly. “I, uh… I really like you too.”

“I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s-”

“Yes!” 

You paused for a moment as his eyes crinkled and he grinned, ducking his head. Then you lifted his chin up a little bit and you watched his pupils visibly expand. 

“God, you’re so-” You cut yourself off, using his soft cracked lips to do so. The first thing you registered was Leo’s hands moving closer to you instantly and the way your eyes fluttered shut without warning. 

You pressed your lips to his harder and pulled back, breathless. He blinked up at you, eyes wide, and you reached out to pull him closer again, your fingers sliding along his jaw and holding his face. He scooted closer, kneeling between your legs and clutching the belt loops of your jeans while you pressed kiss after kiss to his lips.

He tilted his head and you gave him a second before you opened your mouth against his, realizing that you really were kissing the boy you’d been daydreaming about for months. Holy shit. It was better than you’d imagined, the way his breath fanned out over you when he kissed your open mouth back, tasting like strawberry gum and softness. 

When you took another breath, stealing a glance at Leo’s puffy lips and red face, but he pulled you back into the embrace, your shirt balled up in his fist. 

Teeth clashed together. You jerked back at the awful feeling and began to laugh, wiping at your mouth. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god,” Leo choked, blinking rapidly. He looked around and a grin spread across his face. He was panting. “I’d be getting A’s if you kissed me instead of yelled, y’know.”

“I beg to differ,” you said, letting go of his jaw. Your fingernails had left little dints in his cheeks, but he didn’t look like he cared at all. You rested your hands on his waist and smirked. “I think you’d fail all your classes.”

“True,” he squeaked, breath catching.

You narrowed your eyes at him and slowly moved your hands up a little bit, fingers tracing his sides cautiously. 

You’d asked to kiss him, not pull weird sounds out of his throat and have him bury his head in your neck, but that’s what happened. As your fingers caught on the edge of his shirt, you whispered quietly to him. “Is this okay?” 

Leo just nodded frantically, his hot breath landing on the patch of skin where your neck and shoulder met. When your fingers touched his warm skin he grinned, his mouth brushing you. You felt the shiver that ran up him under the pads of your fingers, and you decided you liked it. 

He pressed his face tightly against you, hands curling around the back of your collar. 

Your chest tightened at the feeling of his lips and you dug your nails into the squishy part of Leo’s hips. It was a bad habit but it got you a firm kiss on your neck, even if it was accidental. 

Leo pulled back enough for him to look up at you, cheeks dusted with pink and lips puffy. He smiled the tiniest bit, but you could see a question in it and you answered by moving your hands to his back, rubbing circles. 

It was only at this point did you realize that he had sharp teeth, but as he chewed at your skin softly and licked it afterwards like an apology, you weren’t complaining. 

Neither was Leo, obviously. He left sore spots and his hair brushed your ear. His teeth picked you apart. You felt like rubber under his warm hands and wide grin, but then your hands traced his ribs because he’d begun sucking on a tender spot beneath your jaw. 

He insisted on leaving bruises you would have to cover up later. Maybe he’d take it as a challenge. Hopefully.

He pecked kisses along your kissed out skin until he reached your lips again. 

»»————-　★　————-««

[recs-and-things]

heart eyes!

as seen by george karim

series masterlist

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem reader

content: suggestive content and like a bunch of silly jokes bc… theyre teenagers

word count: 3.5k

summary: the one where george wishes he could time travel

notes: the final part!! she’s here!! i do hope u like it lolol

Lucy claimed she had done something to fix you and Lockwood, and somehow, it had worked.

(Perhaps a little too well, Future George notes.)

George loved you, of course, but in the week you had been ignoring Lockwood, you had been using him and Lucy as an outlet for your need to give affection. As a result, he had probably received more hugs in that single week than he had in the past two years of his life. Your affection was always nice, but George wasn't sure how many more surprise hugs he could take.

After that week, his respect for Lockwood had grown tenfold. He wasn’t sure how anyone could like spontaneous touches and impromptu hugs, but Lockwood had welcomed their return with open arms. It was nice to see him not moping, and George thought it was nice to see you two back to normal, but it was also nice for the heat to be taken off of him for once. He made sure to thank Lucy by letting her sneak an extra biscuit during the usual rotation, and that was that. You and Lockwood were glued back together again, and all was right in the world.

But it seemed that whatever Lucy did had done nothing but make you and Lockwood ten times clingier. Gone were the nights where George could enjoy his alone time with you, as Lockwood always seemed to be on your tail.

Once a week, you would offer to help George with dinner. It was a big help, and was a great way to spend time with you. Lucy and Lockwood were helpless in the kitchen, and he would much rather have a literal elephant help him crack eggs into a pan than either of them.

“Alright, George,” you said, pulling on one of his aprons. “What would you like me to do?”

The apron you put on was the one you wore every time you cooked with him, and it was basically yours now. Lucy had gotten it for him last Christmas, and ‘Kiss the Cook’ was printed along the front next to a cartoon lipstick stain. It was your favorite apron, solely for the reason that Lockwood would pepper kisses on your cheeks whenever he happened to catch you wearing it.

“Could you please cook the rice?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the pantry. He blew an unruly curl out of his eyes as he continued to stir the contents of his pot. His hair was getting much too long.

“Yes, Chef,” you teased, heading to retrieve the rice. George could hear you humming quietly to yourself while you scooped a few cups into the pot. “What are we eating tonight?”

“Ghormeh sabzi,” he said, moving to fetch the cilantro and parsley as you headed to the sink.

He could practically hear the smile bleed into your voice when you spoke. “Lockwood’s going to be so happy. We haven’t had it in a while.”

George hummed an affirmative as he moved to get the knife and a cutting board. Your words were definitely true, but he wondered if you ever stopped thinking about Lockwood. He didn’t doubt that the boy was the same way about you, though. For every ten thoughts he had, you made up about nine of them.

You rinsed off the rice, making sure to wash it well before you headed over to the rice cooker. You popped it in the pot and took over the chopping for him while he started preparing the meat.

George loved cooking with you. It was nice to not be alone in the kitchen for once, and although it was mostly quiet, it was nice. The two of you were perfectly in tune, and you were able to understand exactly what he needed you to do despite your lack of cooking knowledge.

“It smells great, George,” Lockwood said, appearing out of thin air.

George flinched, his wooden spoon gaining a life of its own as it jumped out of his hand. With terrifying aim, the spoon arched upwards before hitting you hard in the shoulder. The sauce splattered against the ceiling and all over your unsuspecting self as the spoon clattered sadly on the floor.

Lockwood whistled, picking up the now dirty utensil before dropping it in the sink. He got a towel from the rack and opened the faucet, dampening it slightly, and you immediately drifted over to him. You let him pull your face into his hands, allowing him to wipe off the remnants of the sauce from the side of your face and neck.

“Sorry,” George said genuinely to you, but you just waved him off, much more interested with the way Lockwood was standing so close to you. “Lockwood ought to be more careful with who he sneaks up on.”

The boy laughed at his words, but still did not take his eyes off of you. “I’ve been in the kitchen for the past thirty minutes, George, you just didn’t notice. Even though you refuse to believe it, I am capable of not talking.”

George rolled his eyes. It was like he was a dog with separation anxiety. He couldn’t leave you alone for an hour so you could help cook?

Neither of you cared, but Lockwood was still lightly wiping at your skin with the towel even though it was clear there was nothing left. You were mumbling something to him about the vegetables, and he was listening with rapt attention. George soured upon seeing that distracted look in your eyes you got whenever Lockwood was around.

“Alright, Lockwood, now stop distracting my sous chef if you even want to think about getting a second helping of ghormeh sabzi.”

The threat seemed to sober him up immediately, because he planted a parting kiss on your cheek before backing away. “I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” he assured. “Had to kiss the chef first, of course.”

George wondered if you would hate him if that apron somehow went missing.

“Get out of here,” you said laughing, still clearly in a Lockwood induced trance. He winked at you before slinking from the room.

Things settled back down after that, you helping him wrap up the meal in your usual silence. But George would sometimes look over and see a little smile on your face, and he knew exactly who you were thinking of.

George picked up a clean spoon from the drawer before scooping some of the stew onto it.

“Try this,” he said, pulling you away from where you were readying the plates on the table. You tasted it eagerly, always excited to try his cooking. Almost immediately, you brightened up.

“This might just be the best ghormeh sabzi you’ve ever made,” you said, moving to get some more.

George swatted your spoon away from the pot. “Not until later. And you say that every single time I make this.”

You laughed, throwing your head back. “And I mean it every single time!”

George smiled, moving to take your spoon from you before you made any speedy dives for the pot. But his eyes caught the exposed skin of your neck and he frowned.

“Did I do that to you with the wooden spoon?”

“Do what?” you said, still smiling as you reluctantly gave up the utensil.

“Give you that bruise on your neck.”

You froze, the grin sliding right off your face. “What? What do you mean?”

He picked up a shiny pot that was hanging on the rack, flipping it over so you could see yourself in the metal. “When I accidentally threw it, I think I might’ve bruised you.”

You were staring wide eyed at your reflection, your hands zeroed in on the discoloration around the area where the spoon had landed on you.

“Sorry about that,” he said, moving the pot of stew to the center of the table. “I should really ban Lockwood from the kitchen.”

Snapping out of your weird daze, you nodded hurriedly. “You should really get on that, George.”

You clamped a hand down over the bruise, nodding in the direction of the door. “And I’m about to get on— Uh, I mean,” you stammered, oddly horrified at your words. “I’m going to go get Lockwood. And Lucy. I’m going to go get them for dinner,” you said, as if George needed clarification.

“Okay,” he said, tilting his head at you. He went to get the forks from the drawer as he waved you out. “Bye?”

You smiled awkwardly, and quickly turned on your heel to flee the room.

When you returned back downstairs, the bruise on your neck was gone. George assumed you covered it up with makeup, and he immediately felt bad about the accidental injury. The guilt only worsened when you dutifully did not make eye contact with George throughout the rest of dinner.

He gave you a weird look that you didn’t notice, because you absolutely refused to look at him. Girls could be so weird.

—

Whatever had happened in the kitchen that day had clearly rattled you.

You were always on edge, giving George wary looks from across the room that you thought he didn’t notice. Every few minutes, he would look up and you would stare off in the distance, pretending you hadn’t just been staring at him.

He didn’t understand what your issue was. You had been perfectly fine until he had pointed out the massive bruise he had given you, and although it had been an accident, you seemed pretty upset about it. Just after your week of ignoring Lockwood had been over, it seemed that your week of ignoring George had begun. He couldn’t even believe he was saying it, but he was… missing you. He wasn’t sure what to do, so he went to the one other person in the house that could help.

“Lucy, you better prepare yourself. After this week, you’re next up on her chopping block.”

She snorted. “As if she would ever ignore me.”

“You never know,” he grumbled. “I didn’t think it would happen to me, and look where we are. I doubt Lockwood expected it either, but he’s a victim, too!”

Lucy was clearly amused. “Why don’t you just ask her if she’s okay? That’s what I did last time, and it fixed everything between her and Lockwood.”

George frowned. “That’s it? That’s all you did to fix it?”

“Yep.”

“You made it seem like you had done something actually helpful to get them talking to each other again.”

She glared at him. “Don’t make fun of my methods until you test it out yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Luce.”

“Of course,” she said, ushering him from her room. “Let me know how it goes.”

Shutting the door of the attic quietly, George began the trip down to your room.

“I’m sorry, please forgive me,” George mumbled to himself, practicing his apology. Suddenly, he frowned.

He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what you were mad at him for, what was he even apologizing for?

He was about to find out, though, because he was now at your door, his hand raised in a fist to knock. George could hear you shuffling around inside, which meant you were definitely in your room. He rocked on his heels, nervous for what your reaction might be to him outside your door. Would you scream? Slam the door in his face? Probably not, but it was always a possibility.

There was more rustling inside, and George felt him grow impatient. Were you ignoring him?

He knocked again, much louder this time. There was no way you didn’t hear him. His raps against the door increased in speed and volume as he continued, but there was still no response.

Suddenly, there was a loud crash, like something heavy had fallen to the floor. He pressed his ear to the door, trying to listen to see if you were alright. After a second, he could hear a muffled curse from inside. The concern he had for you outweighed his fear of your anger, and he pushed the door open.

As the door swung inward, the contents of your room were revealed to him one by one.

He could see your box of trinkets had fallen off your desk, spilling your knick knacks everywhere.

And then he could see you, sitting on your desk, the papers and other belongings that were usually kept neat now strewn about messily, like they had been pushed to the side.

(If Future George could intervene on a single point in his life, it would be this very moment. Future George would tell Past George to slam the door and just let you ignore him. But unfortunately, Future George could only look back and cringe.)

Because the moment he pushed the door open an inch further, he saw Lockwood. And he really wished he didn’t.

He was standing in between your legs, his arms wrapped around you, which wasn’t anything new to George. What was new was the way he was kissing you. On the mouth, and down your jaw, and down your neck.

George nearly keeled over. “What the fuck?”

Your senses of hearing immediately returned, because the both of you jumped away from each other in shock. You snapped your head in the direction of the door, seeing George standing there with his mouth opening and closing over and over.

“What the fuck?” George repeated in shock. He wasn’t sure what else there was to say.

“George,” you gasped out, sliding off the desk and moving in his direction. Grabbing him by the wrist, you tugged him into your room before shutting the door. “What’re you doing here?”

From up close, he could see that your lips were swollen from kissing, and your hair was looking particularly messy.

“What am I doing here?” he echoed in disbelief. He jabbed a finger into Lockwood’s chest. His usual neat white button up was now wrinkled, the tie missing and top two buttons undone. “What are you doing here?” He turned back to you. “And are you not even going to address what I just walked in on?”

“You’re asking me what I’m doing here?” Lockwood asked, offended. “In my girlfriend’s room?”

“Girlfriend?” George nearly screamed. He felt dizzy all of a sudden. Had he fallen down the steps on his way down here? Was this all a dream?

You shushed him immediately, pointing in the direction of Lucy’s room. “We were going to tell you both, I swear! But then it got so hard to bring up, and the timing was never right, and—”

“There’s no way,” George managed, shaking his head. “This is a prank.”

Lockwood laughed. “Far from it.”

You threw your head back as you groaned, exposing the skin of your neck to the light in your room.

George couldn’t help it. He screamed again.

“What happened to your neck?” he shrieked.

Splattered all over the skin were small bruises, starting from your jawline and continuing past the collar of your sweater.

“I threw wooden spoons at her,” Lockwood joked. “What do you think happened?”

George’s jaw dropped at the reference. He whirled on you, and you inched closer to Lockwood. “That bruise on your neck… It wasn’t from me accidentally hitting you,” he said slowly. He narrowed his eyes at Lockwood. “It was from you?”

“Congrats, George, you have it all figured out,” Lockwood deadpanned.

You planted your face in your hands, humiliated.

“Is that why you were ignoring me?” George asked, frowning. “‘Cause you were embarrassed?”

“I thought you knew, and I got scared!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “What kind of wooden spoon leaves hickeys?”

George gave a full body shudder.

“Have you never seen people kiss before, George?” Lockwood jested, leaning forward to leave his chin on your shoulder.

“Of course I have,” he grumbled. “But this is the first time I’ve seen someone kiss like they were possessed by a vampire, so forgive me for expressing surprise.”

“That’s not my fault. What happened to knocking on people’s doors?” he asked boredly, like he hadn’t just traumatized George for life. “Did we just forget how to do that?”

“I’ve been knocking for the past minute. You probably couldn’t hear over the sound of you going at her neck—”

“Okay!” you said, clamping your hands over your ears. “That’s enough, please.”

George wasn’t done. He reached over to prod at one of the marks on your neck like he was poking at a laboratory experiment.

“If she’s your girlfriend, shouldn’t you be nicer to her? These look like they hurt.”

Lockwood laughed, and George regretted saying anything.

His mouth pulled into a wide grin. “Trust me, I’m always more than nice—”

You firmly clamped your hand over his mouth, your jaw hung open. Swiveling around to face George, you shook your head repeatedly, like you were begging for him to believe you. “That was a joke, George.”

“Sure it was,” he answered, trying to suppress his mortification. “My room is just down the hall, do you better keep it down when—”

You hit him with the closest piece of fabric you could find, which happened to be Lockwood’s discarded tie.

George backed up, pressing himself to the door. “Don’t touch me with that thing.”

Lockwood rolled his eyes. “It’s just a tie, George.”

“I can tell that much,” he scoffed. “Who knows what that thing has seen? Especially with…” He gestured at you. “You know.”

“Do you really still believe in cooties?” you huffed, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He pressed his lips in a thin line. “That’s not what I was talking about.”

Lockwood laughed at that, but you seemed to find it anything but funny.

“You’re terrible,” you groaned.

“Why are you guys being so loud?” another voice said, joining the already noisy room. Before you could warn George to shut the door, Lucy had already pushed it open, knocking him out of the way. “It’s nine in the— Woah, what happened to your neck?”

You hid your face against Lockwood’s front and he patted your back in sympathy. “This is a nightmare.”

“Ouch, Luce,” George groaned, pushing the door back in her direction. “Couldn’t have knocked as a warning?”

“George Karim, I never want to hear you ask about knocking ever again,” you hissed, spinning back around. His retort was cut short by Lockwood clapping his hands together once.

“Alright,” Lockwood said authoritatively. “Can everyone just kindly get out of my room?”

“Your room?” you scoffed. “This wasn’t your room when I asked you to help me clean up the crumbs that you left—”

“Did you lose a fight or something?” Lucy continued on, her question aimed at you.

George snorted. “If the fight was against Dracula, then yes.”

You snapped your head in his direction, moving forward to probably strangle him, but Lockwood caught you around the waist.

“Lockwood, please control her,” George said, now pressed even closer against your door.

You tried lunging at him again, but didn’t make it very far. “I’m his girlfriend, not a feral animal.”

“Girlfriend?” Lucy gasped. She squinted at you and Lockwood. “You’re dating?”

George snorted. “Who did you think the vampire was?”

Lockwood was not quick enough to stop you from throwing the nearest object at his head, which happened to be an eraser. George pushed Lucy out of the way and fled the room before you could reach for the stapler on your desk.

Lucy laughed, finally getting the memo that leaving the room was probably for the best. “You better tell me everything later,” she said pointedly to you.

You waved her out, disgruntled. “Whatever.”

The door swung shut and Lockwood finally released you from his grasp. You groaned, walking over to your bed to collapse into your pillows.

“I can’t believe you forgot to lock the door,” you complained.

“Didn’t have time when you were dragging me inside,” he teased, settling down next to you.

You let out a strangled noise. “This is so embarrassing. I can’t believe this happened.”

He rubbed a circle into your back, humming in agreement. “At least we don’t have to tell them now. The worst part is officially over.”

You flopped over onto your back, giving him a sad look. “Do you think they’re ever going to let us forget this?”

He smiled. “Probably not.” Lockwood pressed a wet kiss to the spot under your jaw, and you pinched him lightly.

“Woah, you really are like Dracula.”

“If George was dating you, he’d understand why,” he said, pulling you deeper into the warmth of your bed. You wrapped your arms around him while he rested his head on your chest, letting yourself relax. Suddenly, he shivered. You tilted your head in question, and he said, “Sorry, I just imagined you dating George and got scared.”

You laughed, and Lockwood thought about how lucky he was to be able to hear it. Ever since you started dating, he had been thinking a lot about how lucky he was.

From his spot on your chest, he stared up at you with the most lovesick look on his face. Usually, you would tease him about it, but now, you just smiled back as you pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

For the next few minutes, you sat in silence, just resting on your bed. George had effectively ruined the mood with his inability to knock, but you didn’t mind when it meant you could play with Lockwood’s hair and try to get him to catch up on well needed sleep. Breaking the silence, you finally spoke.

“Do you think they’ll believe us when we tell them we’ve been secretly dating for the last few months?”

Lockwood hummed, pretending to think about it as he shifted over you. He pressed another kiss to your left collarbone before the kissing turned heavy, and there was another mark blooming on the untouched skin there.

“Nope.”

notes: i hope u enjoyed the final part! surprise lol they’ve been dating for a while, i imagine they got together sometime between the events of barnes and kipps’ parts. this series was so much fun to write!! i loved getting the chance to write shorter works bc i so rarely write anything under 4k lol. lmk what u thought and thank u for the support!!

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @a-candle-maker @2guysonascooter @amo-a-los-postres @anxiousbeech @dontstopxx @wordsarelife @cassiopeiia24 @cupiidsriot @philliam-writes @criesinlies @writtenontheport (just ask to be removed/added!!)

[recs-and-things]

heart eyes!

series masterlist

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem reader

summary: you and lockwood through the eyes of everyone else

content: fluff, idiots in love (emphasis on the idiots part)

title from heart eyes by coin

montagu barnes 2.6k

the one where barnes watches lockwood go a little crazy

quill kipps 1.7k

the one where kipps spends some quality time with you and lockwood

lucy carlyle 3k

the one where you are ignoring lockwood, and lucy is determined to find out why

george karim 3.5k

the one where george wishes he could time travel

[recs-and-things]

just another love song

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem reader

content: almost six thousand words of yearning and fluff. everyone sees it but them trope! reader is implied to be shorter than him, reader neglects her personal health for a sec, but u can skip the acts of service section if this bothers u!

word count: 5.6k i have a problem

summary:

you dont believe you and lockwood are in love with each other. george and lucy prove you wrong.

or,

you and lockwood through the five love languages

notes: title from lovesong by beabadoobee its so fitting bc i can not stop writing about this boy. thank u anon for ur request i hope its ok i took many creative liberties with it lol!!

“Lucy, you’re insane.”

“I’m insane? You’re the one who’s in a relationship and doesn’t even know about it.”

The roll of your eyes was nearly automatic.

The both of you were sprawled out on Lucy’s blue and yellow sheets while you helped her paint her nails. She was complaining earlier about how she sucked at painting with her nondominant hand, so you offered to do it for her.

You probably would have changed your mind if you realized she was going to corner you about your apparent relationship with your best friend.

Lucy’s face was half pressed into her blanket while her hand was propped up on one of her pillows. You were only halfway done, but you fought the urge to leave the rest of her nails unpainted as a form of protest.

“C’mon, you really can’t see it?”

“See what?”

“The way Lockwood’s in loooove with you.”

“He’s not.”

“He is.”

“He’s not.”

“He i—”

Lucy immediately went quiet at the sound of a knock on her door.

“Who is it?” She called out while you put another coat of black polish on her index finger.

“It’s George. Lockwood sent me up here to tell you he’s starting dinner,” he voiced through the door.

“He’s in the kitchen?” Lucy asked.

“No, he’s getting dinner ready in the library,” George responded sarcastically. “Yes, Luce, he’s in the kitchen. Why?”

“Perfect. You mind coming in and shutting the door behind you, Georgie?”

Your confusion only seemed to grow, but Lucy did nothing but wave you off as the sound of George ascending the steps grew louder. He took in the sight of Lucy face down on her stomach while you painted her nails, a disgruntled look on your face. He sank into the mattress next to Lucy, prompting her to speak.

“How long would you say Lockwood’s been in love with her for?”

“Lucy!” You scolded, blood rushing to your face. “George, don’t listen to a thing she says, she’s crazy.”

“For as long as they’ve known each other, probably,” he said matter-of-factly. “Why?”

That shut you up rather quickly. The girl next to you let out a rather evil sounding cackle.

“She doesn’t believe it when I tell her they’re practically dating. Oh — and get this! She doesn’t think he’s in love with her.”

George blew air through his nose, one of his quiet laughs.

“That’s funny.”

“I know, right! And—”

“I’m literally right here, you know.” You cut in, aggrieved and a little embarrassed.

George tilted his head to look at you, genuine curiosity swimming in his eyes. “Well, why don’t you believe her?”

“Because he doesn’t like me like that,” you said simply. You ignored the way your heart oddly constricted in your chest.

You tugged a bit harshly on your necklace that now felt like it was choking you, missing the way George took note of the movement.

“What even led you two into thinking that we’re madly in love with each other?”

Lucy rolled over onto her back, effectively stopping you from painting her nails.

“I’m so glad you asked, because I can name a few.”

“Oh, can you?” You challenged.

“She’s been planning this intervention for a while,” George added.

You rolled your eyes again.

Lucy leaned over to rifle around in her drawer, careful of her wet nails. From it, she procured a bright pink magazine, the color nearly blinding your eyes. She rifled through it before finding the page she was looking for.

“Lockwood’s been a passenger on the Love Train for so long, he’s past the point of just having one or two love languages. He manages to hit all five. Daily.”

You had to admit, you were slightly impressed with how prepared she was, already knowing which page to turn to.

You couldn’t help but ask, “Just how long have you been thinking about this?”

“A while.”

The look on your face made George laugh. “Believe us, if you were around a couple like you and Lockwood for this long, you would go a little insane too.”

You shoved his shoulder playfully before leaning closer to the magazine Lucy had pulled out.

She pointed to a bulleted list on the center of the magazine page. The title, The Five Love Languages, was written in frilly cursive and surrounded by hearts and a drawing of Cupid.

You read on.

Want to know how to love your significant other better? Find out what their Love Language is! This article was written by Tammy, our resident love expert!

“I’m so glad we’re getting a real professional opinion on this,” you deadpanned.

Lucy jabbed a finger at the first bulleted point. “Suspend your disbelief for a second, alright?”

“Acts of service,” she began. “We all know how much Lockwood loves those.”

—

It wasn’t unusual for case research to stretch on for multiple days. With some visitors going back centuries, it was actually very normal. Records could be hard to find, which meant spending many late nights. Oftentimes, the four of you would be poring over documents under the light of the moon until it gave way to early morning sunrise.

There was nothing quite like finding the piece of information that made all the pieces fall into place, and you were clearly committed to finding it. You had been running yourself ragged over this job, scarily determined to find and secure the source.

Ms. Church was a kind old lady who pinched Lockwood’s cheeks and offered you all caramels from her bag. This particular visitor had been tormenting her for weeks. Terrified and unsafe, she came to seek Lockwood and Co.’s help.

Everyone knew you were insanely sympathetic. And when you saw the suffering of this sweet woman caused by this specific visitor, you would not let yourself rest until it was dealt with. Quite literally.

After the first late night of research, Lockwood had walked you to your room, ensuring that you actually got in bed. After months of working together, he was well aware of your working tendencies.

“Go to sleep,” he reminded you. “I know you’re eager to close this case, but get some rest first, alright? We’ll start early in the morning if you’re so eager.”

Your laughter was muffled by your blankets. “I can’t believe the champion of sleep deprivation is telling me to go to sleep right now.”

He gave you a fond smile. “I’ll only get some rest if you promise to as well, so you better close your eyes.”

An exaggerated sigh spilled from your lips as you turned over. “I suppose I’ll sleep. G’night, Anthony.”

He flicked the lightswitch off. “Goodnight,” he said into the darkness before swinging your door shut. You could hear the creaking of the floorboards get further away as he retired to his room too.

You shut your eyes as promised, and waited for sleep to take you. After being focused on a case for hours, it was near impossible to shut your brain off. You tried counting sheep, but found them morphing into visitors instead. Case facts tumbled around in your mind like clothes in a washing machine.

Groaning, you sat up in bed. If you were going to think about the case, you might as well look over the actual documents.

You made your way to your desk with all the stealth of a fox, wondering if Lockwood was awake. His room was just across the hallway, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing something wrong by staying up.

Why were you even worried about what he had to think? You weren’t a kid, you could do whatever you wanted.

Nevertheless, you made sure to keep as quiet as possible. When Anthony slept, he would either go into a sleep state similar to Ghost-Lock, or a sleep state that had him waking up at sounds half a mile away. You hoped that tonight was not one of the latter days.

It’s not even that late, you justified, looking at your clock. You promised him you would get some rest, but never said how much.

You could keep your promise to him while still doing something with your overactive mind. Sleep would come in a couple hours when you got tired, you were sure of it.

It did not.

Without you realizing, the clock was showing you a time you definitely should have been asleep by. A glance up from your papers showed the sun already risen through your window.

Oops.

You tried to reason with yourself. Against your will, you had nearly dozed off about a hundred times that night. Those brief moments of sleep had to have added up to at least an hour. Technically, you hadn’t gone back on your promise. Not really.

It would have to do. You pulled the documents into a pile, and made your way downstairs to make something for the four of you to eat. One by one, your friends trickled down the steps. Lucy was first, looking rather nice for someone who had just woken up. She lit up at the sight of the breakfast you had prepared and gave you a kiss on the cheek in thanks.

George was next, looking like the epitome of a good night’s rest with his ruffled hair and wrinkled tee. His dimples popped up when you handed him his special plate.

By the time Lockwood arrived, the three of you had finished your meals. The boy looked the complete opposite of the well rested George. The dark circles under his eyes were prominent as always, and you wondered if he also hadn’t slept. His face pulled down into a frown at the sight of you already filtering through papers this early in the morning.

Anthony took his usual seat next to you, studying your face carefully. “You look tired.”

“I’m fine,” you said honestly. Although you hadn’t gotten any sleep, you felt unaffected by it. If anything, you felt more energized than you were normally.

“Did you eat?”

“Yes, I had some biscuits and tea.”

“And you’re feeling alright?”

“Of course,” you assured him. “After I made breakfast, I went through our remaining files and divided them equally between the four of us. This way, we can be as efficient as possible.”

You motioned to the individual stacks of papers you, Lucy, and George were leafing through. His pile was sitting on the counter behind him, while his usual breakfast plate was placed in front of him.

He hummed. “Thank you.”

He began to eat, but you could feel his gaze on you from your peripheral vision. Glancing up at him, you found that you couldn’t read the expression on his face.

He was studying you like one of the crosswords in the paper he loved to do. You swear he was an old man in a teenager’s body.

The time ticked by steadily as he slowly finished his plate and the rest of you made your way through your piles. After a few more minutes of this, you excused yourself to get a pen you forgot in the other room. Lockwood didn’t take his eyes off of you until the kitchen door swung shut behind you.

As if he had been planning for this very moment, he put down his fork and slipped about a third of the papers in your pile into his.

George guffawed. “Looks like we know who the favorite child is.”

Lucy could not help but join in on the teasing. “You mind taking some of my pile too, Lockwood? Seeing as you’re being particularly kind.”

Lockwood shrugged, unashamed.

“Just trying to make things easier for her. She didn’t sleep last night.”

You burst through the door a few moments later, and dived right back into work, completely unaware of your missing papers. This did nothing but affirm Lockwood’s suspicions. On any normal day, you would’ve called attention to the difference immediately. Your sleep deprivation was getting the better of you.

He huffed, a little bothered. He wasn’t upset with your dedication to work, in fact, he admired it. He just wished that you would take care of yourself a little better. You wouldn’t know what a healthy life and work balance was if it hit you in the face.

Of course, he wasn’t any better, but at least he was self aware.

Looking over a rather interesting photograph, you took no notice of Lockwood washing his dish in the sink and rifling around for something on the top of the pantry. Your attention was drawn to him when he placed something in front of you.

“I picked these up for you yesterday.”

Trying to focus your eyes, it took you a moment to realize it was a tin of your favorite cookies.

He knew you so well, it made you want to explode.

You beamed up at him. “Anthony, thank you, thank you, thank you! Where did you find these? The corner store has been out of stock for weeks!”

“Found them at a little store in Piccadilly Circus,” he lied. He had taken a thirty minute cab ride to get these, but you didn’t have to know that.

Giddiness written all over your face, you got up, ready to squeeze the life out of him.

Instead, you became a victim of gravity immediately. The room went dark and you had to grip the table to keep from falling over.

“Woah,” you breathed out on shaky legs. Your hands went to hold your head, your vision still swimming. Lockwood grabbed onto your shoulders to stabilize you.

“Are you alright?”

He looked concerned, you think. You couldn’t really see that well. George and Lucy looked up from their documents, everyone now aware of the fact that you were not alright.

“I’m fine, I swear. I think I just got up too fast.” You rubbed your temples, trying to bring back your sense of sight.

Lockwood was not having any of it. His frown deepened.

“No, you’re tired and running on no hours of sleep. You need to get some actual rest,” he admonished you, guiding you to the door.

Thoughts about the job disappeared from his mind completely. You were now the only thing he was concerned about.

Already halfway up the steps, he missed the knowing look your two friends shared.

Instinct carried your feet towards your door, but you let yourself be led away when Lockwood steered you towards his own room.

“I take it you broke our promise, then?” He asked as he corralled you into his bed.

“Sorry,” you said into his sheets.

“Don’t apologize. Truthfully, I didn't get much sleep last night, either.”

He pulled the covers up to your neck, and you held back your comment about how much of a mother hen he was.

“Actually get some rest this time.”

“What about you?”

The chair at his desk squeaked as he pulled it out.

“I’ll be here until you fall asleep.”

“You need rest too, though. You didn’t sleep either.”

He smiled warmly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Then we can stay up together.”

“We can’t help our lovely Ms. Church if half the agency is dead on their feet.”

“That means you need sleep, too. Lay down with me.”

“I’ll fall asleep before you, and who’s to say you won’t escape my evil clutches and go back downstairs?” He was settled into the chair at this point, one leg kicked onto the ottoman.

“I promise you that I won’t.”

“Because our last promise turned out so well?” The incredulous look on his face had you backtracking.

“Fine, I won't promise, I’ll swear it to you. Make a vow, I don’t know. If you really doubt your ability to stay awake while we lay down, then read a book or something. Just don’t sit in that rickety old chair. You’ll get back issues, you old man.”

That seemed to convince him enough to get up. He peeled back the covers and rolled you onto your stomach when you wouldn’t move off his side of the bed. Your hair now obstructing your vision from his manhandling, you could only hear when he opened his drawer and pulled something out.

Well, how were you supposed to sleep when you were this curious?

Rolling back over to face him, you felt the oxygen leave your body.

He was propped against the headboard, a hardcover book in his hand. He refused to read softcover books, and called them annoying repeatedly. The novel was one you had got him last month.

Anthony wasn’t doing anything remarkable, just lounging next to you and reading. But love made people act funny, and rather interesting thoughts started swirling in your head. You wouldn’t mind if you had this for the rest of your life, the two of you in one house forever.

“Can you read to me?” You asked before you could lose the courage.

Wordlessly, he dropped his right arm so you could rest your head there, letting you see the words on the page. Leaning on his shoulder and his voice in your ear, you fell into the best sleep you had in ages.

—

You smiled affectionately at that memory. Since that day, Lockwood had got on your case about selfcare whenever he could. If he even thought you were close to pushing your limits, he would cut you off immediately, forcing you to take a break.

Lockwood cared a lot, there was no doubt about it. But you were still rather unconvinced.

George cleared his throat, and you could practically feel the teasing that was about to ensue. “Lockwood left me and Luce all alone downstairs after that. What were you two even doing up there? Just sleeping, I hope—”

“He read me a book,” you said, amused. “And then I fell asleep. That’s all.”

Lucy continued to smile evilly.

“And that brings us to our next point. Quality time.”

—

George thought that the most interesting thing in the house was the piano.

It was interesting to him solely for the fact that no one ever played it. When he had asked Lockwood about it, he had claimed he was out of practice and didn’t know how to play anymore.

(He was a little liar, by the way.)

George tried convincing him to pick it back up again by listing off all the benefits of playing an instrument. Lockwood rejected him each time.

“Between running my very successful psychical agency and gracing you with my presence, I’m a little pressed for time.”

George reluctantly let that slide.

Lockwood was caught in his lie when George and Lucy had come back from a trip to Satchell’s. They had been low on flares for weeks, and this upcoming job forced them to actually go out and get some.

George had volunteered immediately, already planning his side quest to the grocery store to pick up snacks. Lockwood was such a by-the-list shopper, much to George’s dismay. If it wasn’t a necessity on the list, it wasn’t getting bought.

For someone who loved eating George’s biscuits, Lockwood sure had a lot to say about getting ‘unnecessary things while shopping.’

Lucy volunteered to go with him, not wanting to make him go alone.

This left you and Lockwood alone at home, left to do whatever two people who were in a relationship but not dating did with their free time.

He was really at his wit’s end with you two.

Weighed down by the supplies and very necessary snacks, George nudged the front door open with his foot.

The sound spilled out of the house immediately. It was the beautiful sound of the piano.

Lucy looked just as shocked as George was. The sound of the instrument was unfamiliar to hear inside 35 Portland Row. To the two of them, it was the first time the piano had ever been played.

The song was easily recognizable as your favorite, a tune you hummed under your breath all the time. They had no idea you could play as beautifully as this, and you were obviously extremely talented. The song continued on as the two entered.

The four of you spent almost all your time together, and neither George nor Lucy had ever seen you go near the instrument. Trying to be respectful, George chanced a quick look into the room.

The bags nearly fell from his hands.

At the piano bench wasn’t you. It was Lockwood.

His hands flew up and down the keys, clearly a natural. Lucy would’ve thought it was a trick of the light if she wasn’t witnessing this with her own eyes.

The song came to an end and it was only then that George noticed you standing at the end of the piano, smiling in awe. You began speaking animatedly, probably praising him for his great playing. He could see that your eyes were filled with nothing but adoration.

Lucy thought it was sickeningly cute.

The same look was evident on Lockwood’s face as well, pure fondness in the way he looked at you. He got up from the bench, giving you room to sit down. You sat down in the spot he just vacated, and he moved to stand behind you, a perfectly practiced motion.

He spoke slowly as he talked to you about the instrument, and you tentatively placed your hands on the keys before more notes sounded from the piano. You played the first half of the song before tapering off.

Standing over you, his arms came around your body as he placed his hands on yours. The rest of the song began to fill the room, although it was at a slower tempo.

Still frozen in shock, Lucy nearly dropped a bag on her foot when Anthony spoke directly to her and George. His eyes didn’t leave the keys the entire time.

“Would you two like to sit in on our lesson?”

George showed no signs of embarrassment at being caught. Dropping everything in his hands, he bounded right over to the nearest armchair and got comfortable. Adding her bags to the growing pile, Lucy took a seat on the armrest, only a little sheepish.

“Anthony’s been giving me lessons for a few weeks,” you explained, a giddy smile on your face. “He’s basically Mozart, you should’ve been here to hear him play.”

He smoothed a hand over your back, his eyes crinkling. “Chopin should watch out for you. It took me months to master what you’ve learned in a few weeks.”

You shifted on the bench, embarrassed by his compliment. Lucy piped up with a music request, a song from a couple of decades ago that all four of you loved. You made space for him on the seat, and the three of you watched, gobsmacked, as Lockwood played the song from memory.

So much for not remembering how to play, thought George.

—

You did nothing but shrug at your two friends. “I mean, caring about me and spending time with me? Those are things that we do,” you said, motioning between the three of you. “We can’t possibly all be in love with each other. So what’s the difference between me and Lockwood?”

Lucy grumbled, growing a bit frustrated at your blindness. She pointed to the next two things on the list. Words of affirmation and gifts.

“Lockwood doesn’t exactly wax poetic or spend hundreds of pounds on me and George, now does he?”

—

It had been months of you and Lockwood’s gross yearning, and frankly, George was sick of it. You denied the dating allegations fervently, but George was unconvinced. You two were lying to his face, he was sure of it. All he had to do was catch you in the act.

George was just leaving the bathroom when he heard Lockwood’s voice from inside your bedroom. The door was wide open, the both of you clearly uncaring about whoever was going to be subjected to whatever relationship business you two were up to.

“Hey,” he heard Lockwood say softly.

Wow. George had never heard someone say ‘hey’ so affectionately in his entire life. Clearly this was more serious than he previously thought.

“Happy one year, Anthony,” you said, just as quietly.

George’s jaw hit the floor. The makings of a grin pulled at his mouth.

He knew it.

You two were liars! He could not believe you guys thought you were being oh so secretive about your relationship. He guessed that your freaky affection could not be helped. Although smug at this revelation, he was still happy for the both of you. The love was evident whenever you interacted, and George was just glad the both of you had come to your senses a year ago.

However, he wondered why you were so adamant on denying it. Probably just trying to avoid the favoritism accusations.

Lockwood laughed. “I can’t believe it’s already been one whole year since you moved in.”

You’re kidding.

The self-satisfied look got wiped off of George’s face immediately.

One year since you moved in? You weren’t celebrating a relationship milestone at all.

George felt the need to rinse out his ears with soap. He could not believe what he was hearing. With the way you two were speaking, one year of marriage would have made more sense.

“It’s been the best year of my life, you know. Living here with my best friend.”

“Oh, I’m glad you like living with George.”

The boy in question made a face. He could hear you hit Lockwood on the shoulder.

“You know what I mean. I’m just grateful I know you. And… I couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. You’re incredible. And one of my favorite people in the world.”

George suppressed a gag. Love was unfortunately in the air.

“I like you too, I guess,” Lockwood said stupidly.

Your laughter rang out into the hallway. “Come on, I pour out my heart and soul for you and I only get an ‘I guess?’”

“No, you get this, too.”

There was the sound of paper rustling, and then your shocked gasp.

“Anthony, I can’t accept this.”

He laughed lightly. “Yes, you can.”

“This must’ve cost you a fortune. How much was it? I promise I’ll pay you back eventually, just name the price.”

“There is no price. You’ve already paid me back tenfold by putting up with me.”

“I’m serious, Anthony.”

“So am I.” His voice lost the joking lilt to it. “To know you is to love you. And to be able to love you is the greatest gift anyone could ever receive.”

You were stunned into silence for a moment before you spoke again. Your voice was watery. “You’re the most important person in my life. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. You’re my best friend.”

The next day, you came downstairs with a shiny necklace around your neck. George tried not to slap his hand to his forehead.

You and Lockwood had officially made the words “best friend” lose all meaning.

—

“It’s a cute necklace, by the way,” Lucy teased.

Your face was on fire, and the piece of jewelry around your neck felt heavy suddenly. “George, you really heard all of that?”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s what you get for professing your undying love for each other with the door wide open.”

You pressed your face into one of Lucy’s blue pillows, not able to face them.

“It’s not like that.”

The call of your name made you shoot up off Lucy’s bed.

“George? Lucy?”

It was Lockwood, probably finished dinner downstairs.

“We’re coming!” You yelled down, eager to escape the room (and the conversation).

Lucy’s smile only seemed to grow. You feared for your life.

Lockwood was waiting for the three of you at the bottom of the stairs, his eyebrows raised.

The pleasing aroma of his cooking permeated the air.

“Smells nice,” you greeted, your voice coming out breathless.

His hand skimmed over your arm as you continued past him to the kitchen.

Throughout dinner, you found yourself psychoanalyzing every single interaction you had with Anthony. From the way he pulled out your chair for you and the way he gave you his biscuit when George had his back turned.

He just violated the biscuit rule for you. You wondered if this was love.

You even found yourself questioning his cooking decisions. Tonight’s dish was your favorite, and Lockwood knew it. You gave him a scrutinizing look when his back was turned, much to Lucy’s delight.

You found yourself cursing your friends. You could barely function around him on a normal day, and these thoughts they planted into your mind weren’t helping.

You nearly collapsed when he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. He was just looking at you, and you could feel about eighty emotions rush to the surface.

This had to be love. You were so deeply in love with him.

Much too soon, the night was over. The leftovers were packed away, and Lockwood was at the sink, washing the dishes.

The thought of marriage never sounded sweeter.

Uncaring at this point, you wrapped your arms around his back, frustrated. Your thoughts were all jumbled. His body relaxed at your touch, and then he squeezed one of your hands at his front tightly. You didn’t even care that he got your hand all soapy.

You watched from over his shoulder as he finished drying the last dish and placed it on the rack.

Prying your arms off of him, he managed to loosen your death grip around his waist just enough to spin around and face you. His chin rested on top of your head while his own arms came to rest around your shoulder blades.

“You’ve been quiet. Everything alright?”

You made a noise into the hollow of his throat. “Just thinking.”

He leaned the both of you back against the counter. “Figurative penny for your thoughts?”

Being with him like this was like taking a blanket straight from the dryer and cocooning yourself in it. You felt like a cat resting in a sun spot. Encased in warmth all around.

Your sheer love and care for the boy in you arms made you so soft. This was love.

“George and Lucy made me realize something.”

“Yeah?”

Your knees nearly buckled at the sound of his voice. It was deeper than normal, and the way his voice raised slightly at the end made you feel a little insane.

With a start, you redirected your thoughts. He said a single syllable and it reduced you completely to mush. There had to be something wrong with you.

“What’d you realize?”

“That I’m in love with you.”

Your heart was racing. That six word confession had turned you into a bunch of nerves and clammy palms. Lockwood was quiet, beginning to rub circles into your shoulder with the heel of his palm.

He hummed, a sweet sound that had your heart doing flips in your chest.

“Was wondering when you’d figure that one out.”

If your hands were free, you would’ve hit him hard against the chest. Too reluctant to pull back from him, you settled for pinching his side. You tilted your head to the side and pressed your ear against his chest. His heartbeat was loud and only a little bit erratic. He smiled against your hair.

“I’ve been in love with you for longer, I bet,” he mumbled, always making things into a challenge.

“Really?”

“Definitely.”

“You wanna prove it?”

He leaned back, and you both looked a little shocked at how forward your words were.

“Uh, unless you don’t want to—”

He smiled, and the sight of it was infectious. His face got closer to yours and you had to swallow the enthusiasm that was beginning to bubble within you. His next words were practically breathed out into the silence of the kitchen.

“I’m going to kiss you now, alright?”

Not bothering with an answer, you leaned forward and planted your lips against his.

It was even better than you thought it’d be.

You had no idea how long you sat there, his face in your hands while you made up for lost time. A loud cough had you both springing apart.

Your face was burning up and Lockwood’s chest was heaving, but his smile was as smug as ever.

Lucy was grinning.

George looked disgusted. “Please don’t do that so close to the plates we eat off of.”

Neither of you were allowed to leave the room without about five more minutes of teasing.

As you made your way up the steps, you were stopped by a hand on your sleeve. It was Lockwood, and he pulled you back in to press another kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” he said, and his words sounded like your favorite song he learned to play on the piano just for you.

“Love you too,” you echoed back. Those words had been exchanged between the two of you countless times, but this was the first time it held the weight that it did. As you climbed up the stairs, you found that you had a smile permanently etched on your face.

“You know, we didn’t talk about the fifth love language earlier.”

Lucy was at the top of the next landing, a cheeky smile on her face. Less evil than before, her grin was now more amused than anything.

“What were you going to say?”

“I was going to tell you about the time Lockwood bribed me to switch seats with him so he could sit next to you at the cinema. But I think we just had a great live example of how much you two like physical touch.”

Lucy’s laughter resounded throughout the entire house as you chased her up the steps.

notes: ahh the tangledinlove special! pining and yearning that makes me want to collapse. he needs to be real… jonathan stroud what have you done to me.

as always: please leave feedback if you enjoyed!

[recs-and-things]

Still be here in the morning?

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Summary: You drive Nikolai wild. You want him to see you, to see you, but you're scared. If you give in to your desires and you let yourself fall, will he still be there in the morning?

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: SMUTTY SMUT, LOTS OF SMUT, lots of teasing, a lil bit of angst, and some fluff. Also the reader's nickname is Mouse - but it's not a size thing, it's an occupation thing *thumbs up emoji*

Author's Note: This started off as a smut thing but became a whole story thing so enjoy ;D

It was safe to say you drove Nikolai wild. You hardly listened to his rules, questioning your Captain in his every decision and driving him crazy with your constant bickering. You knew that you could, you were Nikolai's star crewmate and he would never risk firing you. No one was a better diplomat, marksman, or sailor - except perhaps Nikolai himself. You were a good detective too - you were the only one of his crew to have figured out his true identity.

You had teased him about it on a brief visit to West Ravka - an old family painting had given it all away.

"You'll never guess what I found, Cap." You said, waltzing into his quarters and jumping up onto his desk. He tilted his face up to you - indicating that he was listening - but kept his eyes focused on the maps laid in front of him, studying new routes out west. You were only docked in Os Kervo to collect a round of new supplies - enough to keep you afloat to Novyi Zem or even further.

"Tell me, Mouse. What have you found that is so worth sharing that you break into my quarters?" He used the affectionate nickname you had picked up since joining the crew - you were quiet, almost undetectable when need by. Of course, Nikolai knew how annoying and boisterous you could get when you were comfortable. Still, the nickname had stuck. In fact, you were almost certain that aside from Nikolai, and the twins, no one could remember your true name. It didn't matter. You had moved on from that life.

"Well, Tolya and I spent most of our afternoon in the galleries in Os Kervo-"

"-leaving Tamar to collect the supplies? Yes, I heard about that. Just because you keep us out of trouble with the law does not mean that you get to delegate all your duties to someone else. We work together, Mouse, you'd do well to remember it."

"Yes, yes, she said she was fine with it. Something about getting Tolya's poetic arse off her back for a few hours," Nikolai chuckled at that, "And anyway, the interesting thing is what I found in the galleries. You see, despite the Fold, West Ravka is still a united nation-"

"I'm aware."

"Stop interrupting me!" You swatted him with a loose piece of paper on his desk, "It's rude. You'd have thought that you had some manners - what with your pretentious nature."

"Is there a point to this, Mouse? Because I suggest you get there soon."

"Well, what I was saying was, I came across a portrait. A new one - well, sort of. It had the King - Pyotr, that is - and his wife, and their sons. Did you know that they had 2? I had simply forgotten." A cheeky grin had snuck onto your face and Nikolai was now looking directly at you. You leaned in close to his ear, "I'd say they did the younger son a disservice, wouldn't you? Your Highness?"

Nikolai moved swiftly, clamping his hand down over your mouth. "Does Tolya know?"

You move his hand off your mouth, "Of course not. I'm not one to be going around spreading rumours that are not mine to spread."

"Good. And you're going to keep it that way. Especially if you want to stay on this ship."

"Oh, Nikolai. You're not going to fire me. You won't risk having the biggest threat to your secret not on your side. I'm a diplomat - I know how intimidation works," Nikolai fixes you with a stare, "Ok, I was a diplomat, whatever. Semantics. Point is, you're not going to fire me. Your secrecy depends on it."

After that day, your teasing had increased ten-fold and Nikolai's patience with you had decreased just as much. He hardly spoke to you if he didn't have orders to give you. And it pissed you off.

To be perfectly honest, you made his blood boil. Nikolai didn't know what it was about you, but you knowing who he was had tipped him over the edge. He thought that he was untraceable - a new persona, a new look. He'd made a point to never dock in Ravka - but needs must and there was no way they'd survive a trip to Kerch. They'd been running on fumes. To be honest, the trip had gone better than expected. But of all the people to find out, it just had to be you. He stewed alone in his chambers. They were currently in Novyi Zem, planning to head further west. Ravka had no power further west than Novyi Zem, a notion which many - including you - were grateful for.

He'd never taken the time to understand what you were running from - almost everyone in his crew was running from some demon, but you had never once let slip who you were before you joined Sturmhond's crew. He knew that you were a diplomat of some kind and that you were half-Ravkan, but beyond that, you were a mystery to him. Perhaps that's what pissed him off. That you knew exactly who he was and who he had been and he knew nothing about you.

A knock came at his door. Who the fuck could that be? To his knowledge, everyone was out partying in the taverns. Who could resist a peaceful night out when you spent every other night on a ship sailing in the middle of an ocean? Nikolai could. And so could this mystery person apparently. Nikolai opened his door before the guest knock again, groaning when he caught sight of who it was. You were standing at his door - coat and boots discarded and your shirt haphazardly untied. You pushed past him and made yourself comfortable in his chair, smiling as he ran a hand over his face.

"Awhh, don't look too happy to see me, Sturmhond. Or should I say, Nikolai?" You'd taken to teasing him in the privacy of his room, where you were sure no one could hear you.

"What do you want, Mouse?"

"I just wanted to see how my dear Majesty was holding up. It has been a rough week for us all."

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're here to piss me off. Not tonight, Mouse. Please."

"Ooh. I like it when you beg. Do it again." You grinned at him. You knew you were getting under his skin.

"I said not tonight. Get out, Mouse. Go piss off some drunkard in a tavern." Nikolai said, nearly pushing you out of the door. "Maybe he can fuck the attitude out of you," he whispered under his breath.

"Make me."

"I'm sorry, what?" Nikolai said, turning around to face you again.

"I said, make me, Lantsov."

"I told you to stop fucking using that name," Nikolai growled, pushing you up against the wall, his arm pushing under your boob. You flushed pink, heat pooling in your stomach.

Nikolai grinned, "Oh, I see." He looked you up and down, scanning your figure. You could feel your underwear soak with every second of his gaze.

"What do you see, Captain? Need me to get you a spyglass. Could help you-" You were cut off by Nikolai's lips on yours. They were soft, gentle, and yet demanding at the same time. It was nice. This was nice.

"Is that what you wanted, Mouse? Attention from your Captain?" The honourific felt dirty coming from his mouth. You felt the desire to push him further - to piss him off until he gave you what you wanted. What you needed.

"Are you sure it's not what you wanted Captain? You seem to be a lot more excited by this than I am."

Nikolai nearly growled at that, attaching his lips to yours again, before slipping your belt off. He slipped his hands down to your core, feeling the wetness and smirking.

"Not as excited as me, huh?" He rubbed a circle around your clit and watched your defenses crumble. You grabbed a fistful of his jacket in your hand as your hips bucked away from him.

Nikolai lifted you up easily, depositing you on his desk, "I wanted to fuck you that day. When you hopped up on this desk and threatened me the first time. Should've done it. Should've shown you exactly who the boss is around here."

He grabbed the small knife he kept in his breast pocket off the desk and flicked it open. You gasped. Nikolai grazed the knife against the outside of your hip, slicing cleanly through your underwear. You were glad you'd taken off your stays earlier - you weren't sure if you could survive him ruining your most comfortable stays.

He placed a gentle kiss on your throat before pulling your shirt off. He gazed at you, momentarily starstruck, before latching his mouth onto your nipple. A hand came up to toy with the other, and you dissolved into a moaning mess.

He pulled away from your nipple to grin at your state. You looked at him breathlessly, grinning, "Is that all you've got, Lantsov."

His stare turned dark. He dove down and buried himself in your pussy. He licked and nipped, flicking your clit with his tongue. He played you like a well-tuned instrument. He fucked your hole with his tongue - alternating between stroking your walls with his tongue and sucking on your clit.

Your orgasm washed over you unexpectedly, sending waves of pleasure through your veins. You clamped your thighs around Nikolai's head, throwing your head back as you cried out.

Nikolai lifted his head up, eyes glinting dangerously, wetness smeared all around his lips. He looked devious. In that moment, he was not Nikolai Lantsov, spare to the Lantsov name, but Sturmhond, masterful privateer, Captain of Volkvolny. You loved him for it.

"You've caused me a lot of trouble, Mouse."

"What are you going to do about it?" You bit your lip, hiding a smirk.

He threw his coat off, carrying you towards his bed. You were lucky that no one else was on board - if they heard what was going on you'd never live it down.

Nikolai laid you on the bed, stripping his clothes off at extraordinary speed. He was quickly inside you, eliciting whimpers from you at every movement. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to thrust. His hips snapped into you at an ungodly pace and it was all that you could do to not fall apart on his cock.

Nikolai grinned at your silence, his eyes scanning over you. Your face was blissed out, eyes rolling to the back of your head every so often. Sweat glistened on your skin, as you rocked forwards at the force of his every thrust. He couldn't help the small praises that fell from his lips as you moaned lowly.

"Look at you, so fucking beautiful under me, spread out for me like a whore. That's what you are, my beautiful little whore." You moaned at the filth dripping out of his mouth, "What's wrong, sweetheart? Have I fucked the little mouse stupid? No words left to taunt me now, huh?" You moaned softly, your mouth almost stuck in the shape of an 'O'. "Maybe I should do this more often, keep you quiet for longer." You nodded your head, head too foggy to come up with another smart-ass response.

Your second and third orgasms crashed over you in quick succession - Nikolai clamped his hand over your mouth as you screamed 'Nikolai' over and over again. He promised that next time he'd fuck that name out of your brain, before pulling out and cumming all over your chest.

You lay on his bed - dazed from the intense fucking you just received. You were surprised to find yourself alone in Nikolai's bed - he'd disappeared moments after cumming. He'd said something but you were still coming down from your last high when he moved away. You began to spiral. Of course, he was only fucking you to teach you a lesson - why else would he be interested in you? You idiot! He's the prince of fucking Ravka and the Captain of this ship. What do you have that would interest him, apart from your bratty mouth and attitude? He said it himself - the attitude pissed him off.

You were startled when something cold made contact with your chest. You looked up to find Nikolai with something in his hand - a wet washcloth, maybe? - and a sheepish grin on his face. He was still naked, his hair still tousled and his face still flushed. An involuntary beam broke out across your face. He didn't leave you after all.

Nikolai was taken by surprise at the tears that gathered on your lash line. He pulled you up into his chest when you were clean, sitting on the edge of his bed with you held tightly in his arms.

"Hey, hey, hey." He said, drawing mindless shapes on your back as tears streamed down your face, "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" He was confused - surely, if he hurt you, you wouldn't be seeking comfort in him.

His heart slowed slightly when you shook your head, but the confusion remained.

"Talk to me, Mouse. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"It's stupid."

"It's not. If it matters to you, then it matters to me. Tell me, whatever it is, I'll fix it." Another wave of emotion washed over you. You climbed into his lap and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest.

"I thought you were mad." You whispered quietly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear you and that he would let it go.

"Why would I be mad?"

"You left." You shrugged, "You left and I thought you were gone for good." He pressed a kiss to your temple and pulled your head into his chest.

"Oh, Mouse. For all your genius, you are oblivious." You looked up at him, confused. "I love you, Mouse. I always have." You shook your head, "What?"

"You're just saying that." You said, tears filling your lash line again as you tried to pull away, "You're just saying that 'cause you fucked me and you don't want me to leave." You tried to move out of his arms but he held you firmly. You hit his chest, trying to force yourself off him, but he stood his ground. Eventually, you just melted into his arms - he held you as you cried, hands stroking your hair soothingly.

You calmed down slowly, chest heaving as you tried to replenish your lungs. You stayed relaxed in his arms. He laid his head on top of yours. "Wanna tell me what that was about?"

You shook your head.

"Do you trust me?"

You nodded your head.

"Do you trust me enough to believe me when I say I love you?"

You hesitated.

"Well, we've found our problem."

"You don't love me."

"How do you know? You been inside my head? Pretty sure even Grisha can't do that." You chuckled.

"You hate me. You can't even look at me - let alone talk to me for long enough to fall in love with me."

"I can't look at you because if I start looking I'll never look away. I can't talk to you because I look like a fool every time I try and string two words together in front of you. Ask Tolya - he'll tell you how hopelessly in love with you I am. And for someone who's not interested in romance, he's a fucking hopeless romantic." His words involuntarily brought a smile onto your face.

You looked into his eyes, "You're sure you love me?"

"Honey, you drive me wild."

You nestled into his arms, and he leaned you both back onto the bed. Your head hit his pillow and suddenly you're surrounded by him. His arms wrap around you tightly, his pillow smells like him, his face is right next to yours. It's nice. Comforting.

You looked up into his face, studying his features while he slept. He was pretty - objectively. His face was long - pointy. Someone had done a terrible job of fixing his broken nose - but it seemed off at a second glance. He seemed so different than the paintings in the gallery - more difference than age alone could bring. His eyes were the giveaway - they were muddy green at first glance but under the right light and if you stared long enough, they were the same hazel green as the ones in the painting. You reached up to stroke his face. How long would this all last? How long until he wouldn't be able to play pretend anymore? How long until he had to go back to being Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka? How long did you have with him in this beautiful bubble that you had created? You could already hear the rest of the crew filtering in from their nights out.

A hand came up to wrap around yours, "Sleep, Mouse. I'll still be here in the morning."

You smiled. He'd still be here in the morning.

fin.

[recs-and-things]

ꜱʜᴏᴡ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ (ɪɪ)

fear - open mouth - backing away - fake smiles - hugging themselves - long / dragged breaths - rocking

jealousy - snide remarks - darting looks - self-deprication - visible judging - folded arms - arguing a fair point

hurt - steadying breaths - overly bobbing head - teary - anger - trembling - pressed lips - insisting everything is 'fine'

lying (ticks) - picking at nails - touching hair - licking lips - laughing too loud - avoids subjects - won't meet eyes

worry - reaching out physically - pursing lips - looking to others - reassuring smiles - looking you up and down - tilted head - sympathetic nod

shame - will not meet eyes - feet turned away - teary - desperate - fidgeting - begging

humiliation - lashes back - cheeks flush - palms turn sweaty - face frowns -> brows scrunch, lips pull back - teary

love - looks for approval - blushing / turning red - clammy palms - nervous around certain people - laughs hard - turning clumsy - slip of thought

[recs-and-things]

switch up your verbs (part one) ~

walked - hiked - moved - shuffled - toddled - sauntered - ambled - tiptoed - meandered - strolled

laughed - chortled - chuckled - giggled - snorted - guffawed - howled - snickered - shrieked

wanted - ached for - wished - craved - coveted - fancied - pined - aspired

ran - sprinted - galloped - scampered - bolted - trotted - dashed - raced - jogged

jumped - bounced - hopped - leapt - hurtled - vaulted - barged - bounded

[recs-and-things]

50 WORDS TO USE INSTEAD OF “SAID”

Do you ever find yourself over-using the word “said” in your writing? Try using these words/phrases instead:

stated

commented

declared

spoke

responded

voiced

noted

uttered

iterated

explained

remarked

acknowledged

mentioned

announced

shouted

expressed

articulated

exclaimed

proclaimed

whispered

babbled

observed

deadpanned

joked

hinted

informed

coaxed

offered

cried

affirmed

vocalized

laughed

ordered

suggested

admitted

verbalized

indicated

confirmed

apologized

muttered

proposed

chatted

lied

rambled

talked

pointed out

blurted out

chimed in

brought up

wondered aloud

(NOTE: Keep in mind that all of these words have slightly different meanings and are associated with different emotions/scenarios.)

[recs-and-things]

show, don't tell:

anticipation - bouncing legs - darting eyes - breathing deeply - useless / mindless tasks - eyes on the clock - checking and re-checking

frustration - grumbling - heavy footsteps - hot flush - narrowed eyes - pointing fingers - pacing / stomping

sadness - eyes filling up with tears - blinking quickly - hiccuped breaths - face turned away - red / burning cheeks - short sentences with gulps

happiness - smiling / cheeks hurting - animated - chest hurts from laughing - rapid movements - eye contact - quick speaking

boredom - complaining - sighing - grumbling - pacing - leg bouncing - picking at nails

fear - quick heartbeat - shaking / clammy hands - pinching self - tuck away - closing eyes - clenched hands

disappointment - no eye contact - hard swallow - clenched hands - tears, occasionally - mhm-hmm

tiredness - spacing out - eyes closing - nodding head absently - long sighs - no eye contact - grim smile

confidence - prolonged eye contact - appreciates instead of apologizing - active listening - shoulders back - micro reactions

[recs-and-things]

WEBSITES FOR WRITERS {masterpost}

E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;

Hiveword - Helps to research any topic to write about (has other resources, too);

BetaBooks - Share your draft with your beta reader (can be more than one), and see where they stopped reading, their comments, etc.;

Charlotte Dillon - Research links;

Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;

One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;

One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!

Story Structure Database - The Story Structure Database is an archive of books and movies, recording all their major plot points;

National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;

Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;

Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;

The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;

Reedsy - "A trusted place to learn how to successfully publish your book" It has many tips, and tools (generators), contests, prompts lists, etc. FREE;

QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);

Pacemaker - Track your goals (example: Write 50K words - then, everytime you write, you track the number of the words, and it will make a graphic for you with your progress). It's FREE but has a paid plan;

Save the Cat! - The blog of the most known storytelling method. You can find posts, sheets, a software (student discount - 70%), and other things;

I hope this is helpful for you!

(Also, check my blog if you want to!)

[recs-and-things]

— micaela's february recs

ty to all these amazing writers who have left me with butterflies in my stomach and/or tears rolling down my face, much appreciated <3

GRISHAVERSE

— nikolai lantsov.

young royals by @clairecrive

currents by @lantsovsupremacist

↳ you are in love

the art of pretension by @fleurspun

↳ sick and stubborn

↳ healer's duties

love language by @fishley

speak up by @prince-septimus

sugar cube by @magpiencrow

a dare for a truth by @sumsebien

— kaz brekker.

when am i gonna lose you? by @crowsmybeloveds

confrontations in a lonely club by @curseofaphrodite

what do you want from me? by @romeomontaague

silent birthdays by @amourology

↳ schat

you are done for by @sumsebien

this is what happens by @fishley

MARVEL

— peter parker.

you more than anything by @nghtwngs

↳ you love me, i love you

on that rooftop by @nezuscribe

skateboards, the force, and a lack of pants by @damnedparker

secrets and skateparks by @earthgirl616

aurora by @mgparker

scenes from a modern romance by @dameronology

— marc spector.

just let me dream a little more by @the-archxr

— matt murdock.

green is the color by @courtforshort15

the defence rests by @dameronology

OUTER BANKS

— jj maybank.

hot for a pogue by @butgilinsky

meet me at our spot by @amourology

— rafe cameron.

midsummers by @butgilinsky

so gorgeous it actually hurts by @folkloreslovechild

HARRY POTTER

— fred weasley.

after all this time by @httpbakugou

MARAUDERS

— james potter.

five times james wanted to kiss you and the one time he did by @moonlitmeeks

— sirius black.

all your fault by @heloisedaphnebrightmore

↳ absurd ideas

'cause i don't want you like a best friend by @evermoreal

grand scheme by @fishley

— remus lupin.

it's time to go by @godlessandwrecked

BRIDGERTON

— benedict bridgerton.

en garde by @delphispoeticals

show me love by @romeomontaague

— anthony bridgerton.

should've never let go by @writeroutoftime

illicit affairs by @marwritesgood

— colin bridgerton.

alone together by @romeomontaague

TOP GUN

— bradley bradshaw.

delirium by @kyber-crystal

↳ head in the clouds

ENOLA HOLMES

— sherlock holmes.

invisible string by @marwritesgood

AVATAR

— lo'ak.

in full bloom by @loaksky

— neteyam.

warm hands by @loaksky

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON

— aemond targaryen.

corridor kisses by @flowerpotmage

[recs-and-things]

Not here.

Nikolai Lantsov x fem!reader

Hello there my queers! Im back with another fic, and my god it's borderline smutty.

Plot: reader is an assassin who attempted to kill Nikolai Lantsov. She failed, and now is helping him on a quest to get from point A to point B.

Warnings: female reader (I wrote this originally for an OC, and just couldn't be arsed to change the pronouns), mentions of whimpering, making out, swearing, borderline smut, pretty damn nsfw basically

A/N: I couldn't find a good gif of Nikolai so enjoy whatever the fuck the above is <3

●∘◦❀◦∘●

Y/N stood alone in the map room, hunched over a book. Her back hurt like shit. Her head was pounding. All she wanted was to lie down and sleep, maybe drink something warm. Get this goddamn dress off, even. 

She finally straightened up, wincing at the sudden pang on pain in her lower back. She dropped her pen down onto the table, watched it clatter down on top of the countless pieces of paper and notebooks and maps. Gods, she wanted to stab herself with that pen. 

“How are you still awake?” 

Y/N whirled, instantly reaching for her knife. She was about to throw it when she saw who had spoken. 

“Sorry, did I frighten you?” Nikolai Lantsov asked, a small smile gracing his lips. He was so cocky, but so fucking beautiful. 

“I just got startled,” she muttered as she sheathed her knife back into a pocket in her skirts. 

“Of course.” He moved forwards to glance at what she was working on. “Tell me, Y/N, why are you still awake?” The way he said her name made her stomach do somersaults. 

“I am working on our route for next week.” “Mal already mapped out the shortest route.” 

“It’s not the safest, though. Raiders-“ she used her finger to jab at a spot on the map- “raiders are gonna kill us if we go that way.”

“Why are you so worried about these raiders? We could fight them off.” 

“You do know they have a tendency to gouge people’s eyes out?” She laughed. “I don’t know about you, sobachka, but I don’t want my eyes gouged out. What use would I be blind?” 

He took a step towards her, his eyes skimming over her face like a ship on waves. “I’m sure we’d find something for you to do.” 

“I could be the court clown.” 

He took another step closer. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat and she moved towards him too. 

“You could be my private clown.” 

Three more steps, and she would be right in front of him. 

“Selfish much?” 

One more step. She took it; and under everything, she could hear his racing heart. A soft grin graced her lips. “When it comes to you? Shamelessly so.” 

She took his face in her hands and kissed him. Almost instantly, she felt his hands on her waist, pulling her closer, closer, closer, and his mouth on hers, and his heart beating wildly against her hands as she moved them down to his chest. She could feel everything; the physical things like his searing lips and his hands in all the right places, his fingers tangling in her hair, pulling the pins out. His lips, moving down to her jaw. She grabbed at the buttons of his shirt, frantically trying to get them off, get her hands on his bare skin, feel his heartbeat. His hands roamed to the small of her back, his hot breath fanning her neck as he moved his hands up, under her shirt, to her waist. She whimpered softly as he traced circles there, traced the scars there. As soon as her brain registered where this was going, she forced herself to pull away, panting. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said hoarsely, taking a step back. His hair was even messier than before, his shirt unbuttoned, lazily hanging from his shoulders. He looked so beautiful, and it was all thanks to her. She had done that, she had made him look like that. He was breathing heavily, too. “Fuck, fuck Y/N. I’m- I’m so sorry.”  

“No, no, don’t apologise!” She rushed forward and put her hands gently on his face, pulling him forwards until his forehead was resting against hers. “Don’t apologise. Please.”

He looked up at her, his eyes doing that thing they did that made him look like a lost puppy. 

“I like it,” she said. “I like- I like you. I want you. But- not here. This is a public- someone could walk in.” 

“Oh. Oh.” His hands found their way to her waist again, drawing her to him. “I suppose you’re right,” he whispered into her ear. She shivered. “But, I have one condition.” 

“What?” She sighed against the crook of his neck, pressing her lips feverishly to his hot skin. 

“Say it again.” 

“Say what again?” She traced his jawline. 

“You like me. You’re completely obsessed with me, you want to kiss me.” He grinned that crooked grin she loved so much. 

“Gods, sobachka, you’re insufferable.” 

“Say it.” 

She rolled her eyes, but pulled him so close that her lips were brushing his. She wound her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then to his jaw. “I want you, Nikolai Lantsov. I want you, I will always want you, and I have wanted you ever since I met you.”

“You have me, Y/N Y/L/N. I am yours.” He sighed and leaned into her. “Now, let’s go.” 

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

As soon as the bedroom door shut behind them, Nikolai was kissing her again. She yanked his shirt off, threw it to the floor. Let him tug her shirt and heavy skirts off, let him run his hazel eyes all over her. It was like he was discovering her for the first time again, like he had never seen her before. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, pulling her forwards again. “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.” His hands ran over her bare back, where one of her many scars was. “Most beautiful assassin I have ever seen.” 

[recs-and-things]

Catwoman