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ellecdc · 7 months

Note

HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3

feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing

Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.

He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.

He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense.

He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.

He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.

What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.

Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?

“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).

“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information.

“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”

Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold.

The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”

McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor.

“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically.

“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.

“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.

“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.

“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.

You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching.

“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”

Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.

“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.

“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.

You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.

“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.

“Anytime angel, truly.”

James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.

You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.

“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down.

“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus.

“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.

“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”

Remus wasn’t so sure.

You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day.

A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.

James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.

Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.

He just wanted this day to be over.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion.

“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.

“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape.

Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.

Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.

“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.

“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.

You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”

“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.

“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.

“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.

“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.

“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.

“You insolent little bitch.”

“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred.

“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you.

“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense.

“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”

The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.

The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.

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lives-between-lines · 4 months

Text

With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - poly!marauders x slytherin!reader

─

Summary: Preparing for the dreaded OWLs proves to be a difficult task for one tightly-wound Slytherin. How do Remus, James, and Sirius each offer assistance, and how does she handle it?

Notes: No Voldemort, but pureblood elitism is still very much a thing. Story starts at the end of the Marauders and Reader’s fifth year. I don’t know the most about all the Marauders Era headcanons so I kind of did what I wanted, sorry if you don’t like it.

Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader

Words: ~7.8k

p.1

─

I huffed as I reached for another heavy book on the shelf from one of the dark back corners of the library. I wasn’t in the restricted section just yet, but getting close to it. Between the weight of the other five books stacked in my arm and the height of the shelf I was trying to reach I nearly dropped them all.

“Careful, there, Princess. Might break something lugging around all those books,” someone said next to me. I nearly jumped as I hadn’t noticed anyone come down this same aisle.

I shot a glare at him for startling me. It was none other than Remus Lupin, one of those pesky Gryffindors who was constantly fighting me for my space at the top of the class. My glare intensified when I realized who it was.

“Yes, and it would sure be a shame if I managed to drop these on your foot and break something there,” I snarked.

He looked amused at me. “Whoa, Princess, no need to get feisty with me. I was just going to offer my assistance.”

“And what kind of assistance should I accept from you when you’re just as likely to try and trick me?” Lupin gave me a weary look. Typical of Gryffindors to think everyone is as blindly trusting as them.

“No tricks, Princess, just offering a bit of help,” he said with a shrug.

“Would you stop that? Stop calling me that,” I snapped at him before turning back to the book I needed. Before I could make a second attempt to reach for it, Remus stepped up next to me and I froze. But then he grabbed the book for me and set it on top of my stack then took a step back.

“Not a fan of your nickname?” He was of course referring to me being known as Slytherin’s Princess. Sometimes I like to pretend the nickname came about because I’m always top of the class, making my house proud, but I know the real reason is because I come from a wealthy, pureblood, Slytherin family and everyone thought me rather spoiled.

“I am not some simpering girl in need of a man to save her and it’ll do good for the people in this school to remember that.” Despite his significant height, I lifted my chin to Remus Lupin and dared him to say otherwise.

“Of course, of course,” he agrees, nodding his head and holding up his hands. “But you are Slytherin’s Princess, aren’t you?” His eyes light up in amusement at my frustration.

My nostrils flare as I hold back my anger. It doesn’t do me any good to blow up at some stupid Gryffindor, not when that is exactly what he wants and I am not in the business of giving Gryffindors what they want.

Instead, I turn to walk away. Take the high-ground as they say.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Remus calls after me, quickly catching up to and following me. “Seriously, dove, I’m sorry. I was only joking. Please, let me help you with whatever on earth you could possibly need all these books for.”

I stop abruptly and turn toward him. “And why should I accept help from someone like you?” I nearly growl at him, barely holding back my frustrations.

Remus looks taken aback by my words. “Someone like me? You mean a half-blood?”

It’s my turn to be startled by him. “I mean a Gryffindor,” I bite out. This was exactly why I couldn’t stand this brutish group, they were always so quick to jump to outrageous assumptions, thinking the worst of someone like me just because I’m in Slytherin.

He looks relieved and confused at the same time, but I don’t really care to help him unpack his complex emotions about the exact reasoning behind why I don’t trust him.

I dump my books down onto the table I had claimed earlier and began to scour the table of contents in the first one. Uninvited, Remus took the chair next to me and began looking over my shoulder at the book.

“Can I help you, Lupin? Or are you just interested in being a nuisance?”

“I’m glad to be a nuisance any day, but as I’ve said before I was actually hoping to help you.”

“And as I’ve said before I’m not looking for any help.”

“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Is that this close to our OWLs you’re scouring books for something that you think you’ve missed, but you’ve been at the top of our classes all year, so I highly doubt you’ve managed to miss anything of real importance.” I give him a confused look, trying to discern how he’s figured me out so easily. Except he’s wrong, of course, I did somehow manage to lose the year a specific herb was realized to have certain medicinal properties. “So now I’m trying to answer the question of what does little miss Slytherin Princess think that she desperately needs to know, and will that really be the determining factor in her score on her OWLs?”

I glance around to make sure no one else is listening to me admitting defeat in front of a Gryffindor. “I don’t have the year we began to use hyssop to treat earaches,” I murmur.

Remus’s face seems to fall at my admission. “That’s what you’re so concerned about? A minor herb’s medicinal use? Not even that, you already know that, but what year that was discovered? That is such a niche detail, there is absolutely no way Sprout asks us that.”

I roll my eyes. “Obviously Sprout’s not going to ask us about that, it’s Binns that I’m worried about,” I explain. Although I really shouldn’t be giving my enemy any help in preparing for our upcoming tests. I was just as desperate to best him on these tests as I’m sure he was me.

“Binns?” He asks, outraged. “Binns would never ask about that in a million years.”

“You don’t know that, no one knows that. We had a lecture on the history of medicinal herbs, hyssop was one of them.”

“And so you really think that from that one lecture he’s going to ask us when hyssop was discovered to help with earaches?”

“I was reviewing my notes and I had written down the year but it got smudged.”

“You’re actually a raving lunatic,” Remus tells me. He looks around the library like he might get up and leave, but then he turns back to me. “I realize these are the most important tests of the year, but I think you have way overestimated the difficulty of the questions that will be on them.”

“And I think you can never be too safe.”

We hold each other’s gaze for several moments. Remus finally blinks and then sighs. “Confound it all, fine. Hand me one.” He holds his hand out expectantly.

I stare at him, confused.

“Well? Are we going to look for this blasted year or not?” I blink out of my stupor and hand him one of the books I had grabbed.

We sit in silence for a long while, pouring over the texts. The only sound in this part of the library is us turning pages. The first book I look through doesn’t contain my answer, and neither must the book Remus has. Although I am tempted to go back later and double check he didn’t find it and not tell me in an effort to trick me.

After I get through two more books and Remus goes through three, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that had been nagging in the back of my head the entire time.

“Why exactly are you helping me? Surely you’d much rather be focused on your own studying.”

Remus slowly pulls his attention away from the book in front of him. He blinks at me and then furrows his brows. “Sorry, I know you said something, I just didn’t quite catch what,” he admits.

I can’t help the small laugh at his honesty. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d want to be studying for your OWLs.”

“I am studying for my OWLs,” he replies, tauntingly. I roll my eyes at him.

“Come on, you know what I meant,” I push.

He shrugs and I think that’s going to be all the answer I get, then after a pause he says, “you’ve intrigued me. I’m curious now to find out when we started using hyssop for earaches.” There’s something about his tone that’s off, but I mark it down to him just teasing me. “Besides, I’m already plenty prepared to get a perfect score and take my spot at the top of the class.”

I laugh at his taunting. “Clearly not prepared enough if you’re not well versed in the history of hyssop,” I tease back.

He gives me a winning smile and something in my chest stutters at it. I must just be unsettled by his obviously false flattery.

“Can I ask you something in return?” He asks after a moment.

I consider him, then reply, “I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.”

He smiles again and this time it feels like my heart has been squeezed just a bit. “Well I suppose that’s fair. But are you always so…” he trails off and I get nervous at where he’s going with this. “Well, are you always so intense about knowing every little detail?” He finally finishes.

It must be relief that floods my veins when he doesn’t ask anything backhanded or rude. I actually give him a smile before glancing down at my lap.

“I have to be, don’t I? There’s one way to stay where I am and it’s by rigorous study,” I admit.

“Is it really so important to stay at the top that you have to obsess like this, though?”

I think back to what happened when I would slack off with my studies at home before coming to Hogwarts. I can’t help the way my face falls at the memories.

“I suppose it might not be so important to a Gryffindor, but success is a high priority in Slytherin,” I finally respond. It seems when I don’t know how to react I lash out, although Remus is lucky to have caught me in a good mood as I let him off rather easily.

Nonetheless he still looks a bit dejected by my response. I feel a bit bad for shutting him down when we had been starting to get along rather well.

“We should probably focus on the matter at hand, though, if we ever want to find our answer before curfew,” I say, returning to the book in front of me.

“Right…” Remus murmurs. Part of me expects him to leave at that point, after all that’s when everyone else does. He surprises me when he stays and doubles down his efforts.

I open my mouth, to say what I’m not entirely sure. I close my mouth again when I realize that I want to apologize. There’s no way that Remus wants some half baked apology from me.

Time passes in silence, the both of us occupied with our search, but my mind keeps wandering to the way I had snapped at Remus. I didn’t understand why he had sat down to help me, but I shouldn’t have antagonized him for asking a simple question. It wasn’t his fault that the answer wasn’t so simple.

I can’t help stealing glances of him every few minutes, which significantly hinders my speed in reading my book, but Remus doesn't seem to notice and I can’t get myself to stop. This means that I notice almost immediately when Remus freezes suddenly. I try not to react, not wanting to have been caught looking.

“Holy shit!” He nearly shouts, someone nearby shushes him loudly, but he’s too busy jumping out of his seat to mind. “Oh, Merlin’s beard I actually found it!” He whispers loudly this time and pumps his fist. Standing at his height above me while I sit next to him I have to strain my neck to look up at his face, but it’s such a beautiful sight with how excited he is.

“You mean you actually found the year?” I ask, matching his excitement.

He nods enthusiastically at me then points to the line of text that contains the answer we’d spent hours searching for. “Yes, yes, look! It’s right there.”

We celebrate as quietly as we can and I quickly jot down the information into my notes.

“Oh, thank you, Remus! You’ve just saved me probably three hours.” I stand to join him. It’s then that I finally check the time and realize just how close it is to curfew. “Ah, shit,” I murmur. “We should turn in for the night. I don’t fancy having a run-in with Filch tonight.”

“Let me walk you to your dorm?” Remus offers.

“What? It’s nearly curfew, you’ll risk getting in trouble with Filch. No, I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself to my dorms for the night,” I reply firmly.

“Don’t worry about me, dove, I can handle myself. Let me walk you to your dorm.” This time Remus sounds more like he’s telling me than asking me. Nevertheless I nod in agreement and we make our way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.

On the way down, Remus teases me lightly about how obsessed I must be to dedicate so much effort into finding such a small detail. I tease him back about him being a nerd for helping me look for the answer. It’s lighthearted and easy and part of me thinks I could get used to having Remus as a friend. Another part of me questions what it would look like for me to be friends with a Gryffindor and whether my parents would approve or not. Then the first part kicks the second part for being such a self-obsessed ass.

Just outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room I wave goodbye to Remus and wish him a good night. I try not to blush when he calls me “dove,” and dart into the safety of the common room.

─

The next few weeks Remus seems to make it a habit of running into me in the library when I would otherwise be alone. In the past I had tried studying with Narcissa or Andromeda but the pair of them had bad habits of wanting to chat while I wanted to actually study, so my time in the library had previously been spent alone.

Remus was different, though. He understood my desire to focus on the material in front of me and not whether or not his hair was looking frizzier than normal.

Before I knew it I had come to rather enjoy his company. It felt almost reassuring that there was someone else who was similarly interested in studying, but wanted to do it with me. Somehow it was like studying at the same table as him made studying that much better, even if nothing of substance had changed.

─

On a Saturday morning, a couple weeks before we were to begin taking our OWLs, I went out to the Black Lake just before the sun rose. I had slept fitfully, getting more and more nervous for the tests ahead of me. There was so much pressure to do good on these, I didn’t know what I would do if I were anything less than perfect.

I don’t know why exactly I came out here, I just knew that I needed fresh air. Without much else of a plan, I sat down at the trunk of a tree and pulled out my wand. I practiced a couple small charms and transfigurations on the branches and rocks around me.

“I’d say that rock doesn’t stand a chance against you, but I’d like to know what it did to deserve such treatment in the first place.”

I dropped the spell I had been using to propel the rock in the air and it fell swiftly. There likely wasn’t anyone in the school who I would not have been shocked to see, but I was especially shocked it was none other than James Potter. He’s a fairly popular boy my age in Gryffindor, mostly known for his outspokenness and disruptive behavior. If my memory serves me right, which it always does, he’s actually friends with Remus Lupin.

“What are you doing out here so early?” I can’t help but ask.

“I could ask the same of you,” he points out. I finally take him in at that moment. He’s wearing loose shorts and an old Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt that he’s cut the bottom half off to show off his athletic build. His curly hair is a mess atop his head, but I get the notion it’s always like that. When I meet his eyes I’m struck by how blue they are that I can notice even with him standing several feet in front of me. I can’t help but think to myself how pretty he is. He gives me a dorky smile, as if used to the attention but still not sure how to respond.

“Couldn’t sleep so well. Thought some fresh air would do me some good,” I finally answer, not acknowledging how I’d just been looking at him.

“Some fresh air and tormenting rocks?” He teases.

“Is that all you think we Slytherins do? Torment everything?” I huff.

His face twists at my response. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all. It was just a joke, most people laugh at them.”

I sigh and lean back against the trunk of the tree. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge,” I admit, though I’m not sure why I feel the urge to open up to this next to perfect stranger.

James takes a few steps closer and I tense up, but he just takes a seat next to me under the tree. “What’s got you so on edge?”

“Is that another one of your jokes? The OWLs obviously.”

“Oh, right. I suppose those are coming up soon.” He pauses and tears some grass in front of him. “What’re you stressed over those for?”

My brows pinch together and I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “They’re only the most important tests of the entire school year, of our entire schooling career thus far! These will determine our entire futures.”

It’s James’s turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “They’re just another test, though. And I really don’t see how they’ll determine our entire futures,” he says plainly.

I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to a Gryffindor to blow off something so important.

“Look, I know you’ve got this whole thing about being perfect in every subject and staying ahead of everyone else, so I’ll make you a deal.” I turn to him, my interest piqued. “If you do any less than perfect on each of your OWLs, I’ll turn all the professor’s hair purple,” he offers.

My jaw drops at his suggestion. “What on earth would that accomplish?”

“Well I figure people won’t be talking about what grade you got on your OWLs if they’re too busy talking about Dumbledore with a lilac beard,” he’s laughing even as he says it. I laugh, too, at that image.

“Make it bright pink and I’ll help you,” I reply through giggles.

James gives me his award-winning dorky smile and I can’t tear my eyes away.

“Seriously, though, I’ll bet you’ve already gotten perfect scores on every other test this year, there can’t be anyone else more prepared than you.”

“Thank you,” I mumble, not used to outright compliments that weren’t also an insult. My gaze falls to where James is still fiddling with the grass. “A bit antsy, are you?”

“Sorry,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to work on that. I actually came out here to go for a run, it helps me burn some of my extra energy before the day so I can focus a bit better.”

I can’t imagine wanting to start the day by burning through energy, I often woke up with barely enough to make it through the day.

“Oh, I’m sorry to be keeping you. I can go back inside if you want to run by yourself,” I offer and even before I finish talking, I’m pushing to stand up.

“No, no you’re fine!” He’s quick to reassure me. “Please, stay. Actually if you want you could join me, it might help you clear your mind.”

I consider for a moment before deciding to agree. There couldn’t be much harm in it, it was still at least another hour before most people would get up for the day and I didn’t have anything better to do.

While we run I can’t help glancing over to James, who’s clearly in his own world.

The sun began to peak over the horizon, slowly illuminating our path. At one point the sun is behind James when I steal another glance at him, and the way the light catches on his features makes him look like a real life angel.

James proves to be right, the run did help me to clear my mind. When we stop back where we had started I’m feeling significantly lighter than before, even if I am breathing significantly heavier.

“That was… fun,” I am slow to admit. “Thank you, Potter.”

“Anytime, darling.” He gives me another goofy smile. “Feel free to join me whenever you like, I come out at the same time everyday.”

“I just might take you up on that.”

─

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I take James Potter up on his offer every day for a week straight. I quickly come to enjoy the ritual of it, waking up before dawn, sneaking out of my dorm, getting the fresh air and clearing my mind before the day.

James’s presence was a reassuring one, even if we didn’t always talk much. I had the sense that he would listen to anything I needed to say and offer encouragement.

As our OWLs loom ever closer I come to rely on our runs to center me in the mornings more and more, but I also question how long James will continue to let me join him. He never says anything to indicate he doesn’t want me to join, though, so I take him at face value and keep meeting him under our tree every morning.

─

The night before we’re to start our OWLs I find myself unable to sleep for even a minute. Of course this wasn’t a problem for my dorm mates who had fallen asleep at least two hours ago.

I toss and turn, thinking that maybe if I could just get comfortable I could get to sleep. Of course I have no such luck. Eventually I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures.

I don’t have to worry about being too quiet as I climb out of my bed, pull on a jumper, and slip on my sneakers. I’ve mastered this routine from sneaking out for my morning runs.

Two years prior Narcissa was sniffling and sneezing her brains out, but didn’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey for medicine. Andromeda insisted we could take care of her ourselves, she just needed a good, hot cup of tea to clear her system. I never knew where she learned it, but she showed me a way to slip into the kitchens undetected. She then showed me which cabinet to find the herbs in, and also which herbs were the right ones. And then she showed me how to use the kettle.

It was amazing how much better Narcissa was able to sleep after she finished her cup of tea, and the next day she was right as rain. I quickly became obsessed with the simple magic behind a “good cup of tea” and asked Andromeda to tell me everything she knew about the different recipes and ingredients. When her knowledge proved to be rather limited I went on a rampage in the library until I was satisfied─ a good two weeks later.

My plan was a simple blend to help me sleep and settle my nerves. Chamomile and cinnamon was sounding particularly tasty, although I was considering whether I might like lavender with rosemary more. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice at first there was already someone else in the kitchens. Thankfully when I did I only jumped a little.

Confused, I stared at Sirius Black as he took a kettle off one of the stoves. He gave me an amused look in return.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” He guessed.

“No, I’m quite afraid not.”

He gave me a sad smile in understanding. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cup,” he offered. I can’t say why I listened, but I did. Maybe in a moment of weakness before a highly stressful event I didn’t care that I didn’t know him much, I just wanted to let someone take care of me.

“Any preference on what kind?” He asks.

“Hmm, I was debating between chamomile with cinnamon or lavender with rosemary,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I proceed to list off my many thoughts on the benefits of each ingredient and what might best suit my current situation.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Sirius has made a decision for me and already started steeping the herbs in the water. I’ve somehow veered off onto what might make a good combination if Sirius was having a headache, or if his headache was caused by a cold and he had other symptoms what could help with that.

To his credit, he never once interrupts or even looks bored. In fact the entire time he seems to regard me with mild amusement, and I begin to get the impression that everything he encounters in life amuses him.

I don’t even stop rambling about tea when he sets my cup in front of me. After taking a sip, I start to tell him how very fond I am of lemon balm, then pause when I finally realize the cup of tea is already made.

For the first time since Sirius asked what kind of tea I wanted, he is finally given a chance to say something. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”

I scoff at his suggestion. “Don’t be absurd, Slytherins can be just as studious as Ravenclaws, we just typically hold our cards a little closer to our chest.”

“Right.” He nods. “This was you holding your cards close to your chest?” He then questions.

“Well it’s not like there’s any great secret behind tea. And besides, even if I haven’t been able to sleep I am quite tired.” A yawn escapes me just then to prove my point. “Narcissa always complains about my tendency to ramble when I’m tired.”

“Why would she complain? I found it rather entertaining,” he says, lightheartedly. Even though his tone has a hint of joking to it, I feel like he’s being honest.

I give him a small smile before taking another sip from my cup. It’s still quite hot, but the flavors are still strong. “Mmm, this is quite delicious,” I compliment. “Is it chamomile with… rosemary?”

Sirius gives me a proud grin. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he jokes. A smile falls on my face.

“What have you made for yourself?” I ask, glancing at his cup.

“Vanilla and rose.”

“That sounds lovely. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before.”

“James’s mum makes it for us all the time. Do you want to try a sip?” He offers. I nod quickly and he passes over his cup. Sure enough it’s a delightful mixture. I tell him such and he tells me the measurements so that I can make it for myself.

“So what’s keeping you up on this otherwise peaceful night?” Sirius asks.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan. He looks at me dumbly, confused as to what the obvious answer might be. “We start our OWLs tomorrow,” I scoff.

“Merlin, you can’t really be this stressed about it.” He sounds disbelieving, though I’m not sure why.

“I can and I am,” I say, matter-of-factly. He rolls his eyes and turns to begin putting away the tea kettle. “Why are you up, if not because of the OWLs?” I then ask.

“Not for any good reason. Have always had trouble sleeping,” he says, but the tightness in his voice, and the way he tugs at a lock of hair behind his ear tells me there’s something else he doesn’t want to share. I can’t fault him for that, though. “Which of your OWLs do you feel most prepared for?” He asks after a moment of tense silence.

It throws me off for just a second. Most people want to know which test I’m most nervous for, want to know what area I’m weakest in, where the chip in my armor is so that they might strike there. I consider for a moment, not wanting to say something that I end up bombing. Eventually, I decide on my favorite subject. Sirius seems to accept that answer without pushing any further, so I turn it on him.

“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answers almost immediately. “I want to be an auror,” he brags.

I roll my eyes at the proud smirk on his face. “Of course you do.”

“Well? What do you want to be?” Sirius asks as if expecting a lame answer such as archivist.

“My parents want me to be an alchemist,” I reply in what I would guess is a lame answer.

“That’s great for them, what do you want to be, though?” Looking into his eyes at that moment feels as if he’s staring into my soul.

“I… I don’t know,” I mumble slowly and my brows furrow. I can’t help but look at my cup of tea, half empty at this point. No one had ever asked me what I wanted before, not when it came to something so major. It was always assumed I would follow the path my parents laid for me.

When I find the courage to look back up to Sirius he has a sympathetic look on his face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.

In return, Sirius’s face pinches in anger. “I wasn’t looking at you any type of way,” he defends.

“Yes, you were, you had this look on your face like you were sad for me,” I accuse. “Don’t be sad for me.”

“I’m not sad for you─”

“Good, because you have no reason to be. My life is great and everything is perfectly fine.” The way I say it even Sirius can tell that I’m trying to convince myself more than him at this point. I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to say something about how I’m a great witch and I’m meant to be an alchemist, but another voice in my head whispers to explain how I really feel.

“Look,” I start, then trail off.

“It’s complicated,” he finishes for me. “I get it. I’m sure you know about my family, you know I get it.” His voice is so soft as he talks to me, as if I’m a frightened animal. But despite my flaws I am still a Slytherin, and I do not appreciate being treated like a frightened animal.

“Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so self-absorbed they assume everyone knows their tragic tale of woe. Maybe instead of staying up late to make tea and trying to relate to girls you hardly know you should work on your form for your smokescreen spell.” The words spill out of me before I even consider them. I don’t even take the time to be shocked at my outburst. Instead I storm off.

“Yeah, you’re one to talk about self-absorbed, Princess!” He shouts at my back. I nearly flinch at the nickname, but keep going out of the kitchens and straight back up to my dorm.

─

The morning before the first day of our OWLs testing I follow my same routine. I wake up early to run with James, and he tries to ask if I’m feeling alright, but I brush him off and neither of us acknowledges the way I push myself harder on this run than I ever had before.

After our run, I go back up to my dorm to shower and get ready for the day. My dorm mates still haven’t caught on yet that I’ve started getting up hours earlier. They do ask if I’m feeling flush and press their hands to my forehead, though. I shove them off with a grumbled, “I’m fine,” and shove my things for the day into my bag.

In the Great Hall I can hardly stomach a plain slice of toast, but I just manage to get it down with some orange juice. I feel a bit queasy, but today is too important to pay that feeling any mind.

On my way to the first test of the day, I think back to Remus’s reassuring words from our study session the night before.

“Look, I know trying to reassure you that you’ll do great won’t get through to you, even if I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Remus says softly, almost hesitantly. “Instead I hope you know that it will be okay if you aren’t perfect.” My heart hits my stomach and I drop my quill. I start to shut down, prepare to lash out. Why would he say that? He thinks I won’t be perfect?

“Maybe other people will have different opinions, but I will still be your friend and I know that everything will turn out okay for you.”

Oh. My heart flutters back to life. We’re friends?

For once in my life, I do not lash out at someone for trying to get closer to me, for saying something honest that I wasn’t ready to hear.

I give him a sad smile. “Thanks, Remus.” I pause for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” I whisper. Then, because I’m not sure how to proceed after that, I stiffly turn back to my notes. Remus, ever the gentleman, goes back to his book and doesn’t push me any further.

I don’t think anyone had ever told me before that it was okay to be anything less than perfect, but his words become my mantra for the day.

“It will be okay if I’m not perfect,” I think to myself as I walk into the classroom.

I take a seat next to Narcissa. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

The professor instructs us to start. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I read over every question three times. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I double check each of my answers. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I finish the last question. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

I walk up to the front of the class and turn in my test. It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

As I leave the classroom I’ve almost convinced myself that it will be okay if I’m not perfect.

My stomach begins to churn and I walk straight to the nearest bathroom, into one of the stalls, and promptly begin to lose my breakfast. I hear the door open behind me when I’ve stopped heaving.

“Think you’ve found yourself in the wrong bathroom, Princess,” someone says mockingly. Footsteps come closer to me. “Oh shit, are you okay?”

I hadn’t bothered to lock the stall door behind me, so I’m able to turn and see Sirius Black. Again. I give him a horrified look.

“What the bloody hell are you doing in the girls’ room?” I nearly shout at him.

“Actually you’re the one who’s walked into the boys’ room,” he informs me. I give him a disbelieving look until he shifts and my gaze falls on a line of urinals behind him. My face blushes profusely and I stare at Sirius, mortified. He gives me a pitying look. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’re clearly not feeling well. Stay there for a moment.”

Still in shock, I stay put. I hear the sink running for a moment, then Sirius comes back with a damp towel. He hands it to me to wipe my face.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

“Don’t sweat it,” he replies. With a tender hand, he helps me to my feet when I’m ready. “Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey, then.”

“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. It must’ve just been something I had at breakfast,” I lie.

Sirius gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve clearly worried yourself sick and we both know it.”

I don’t reply as I follow him out of the bathroom. My plan was to start going in the direction of the hospital wing, then double back to the library to keep studying. Sirius’s plan was to follow me.

“I’m more than capable of walking myself to the hospital wing,” I say tersely.

“And I’m more than capable of walking with you. I’m glad we’ve determined our abilities for this excursion.”

I shoot him a glare that would scare off most other people. Sirius doesn’t even blink at me. My new plan: ignore Sirius as he insists on walking me to see Pomfrey.

“How did you feel about it?” He asked after a moment.

I don’t respond.

“I personally thought some of the questions were a bit repetitive, like I had to explain myself multiple times.”

I stay strong.

“But maybe that’s a bad sign that I didn’t do as good as I thought.”

Just keep staring straight ahead, he has to shut up eventually, I think to myself.

“On the second question─”

“Would you just shut up already?” I snapped. I was stressed enough over how I did without reliving it with someone I didn’t even like.

Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “Someone’s cranky,” he says with a laugh.

“I am not cranky, I just don’t particularly care to discuss the test with you.” My eyes roll of their own volition.

“What should you care to discuss then?” He asks.

“With you? Not much.” Maybe if I can discourage him enough he’ll grow bored and wander off.

“It’s a bit of a trek to the hospital wing from here, though, and I’ve found conversation to be a great way to pass time.” Of course, I should know that Gryffindors are not so easily discouraged.

“I’ve found that there’s no reason for you to walk all the way to the hospital wing with me.”

“Wow, are you like this all the time?” He finally snaps back.

“Like what?” I pretend to be ignorant.

He scoffs at me. “Rude, Princess. Are you always so rude?”

I flare up at the nickname. The way he says it, it feels like he knows I don’t like it.

“Nobody asked you to pester me,” I say.

“Most people would consider this an act of kindness, not pestering.”

“How unfortunate for you that I am not like most people.”

“It would do you a bit of good to learn something from them, maybe you could start with some manners.”

“I’m perfectly well mannered, thank you very much. You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you I was fine to walk by myself, and you’re the one working yourself up by staying with me when you could bug off to literally anywhere else.” With that I begin to speed up to leave him behind.

Sirius actually stops for just a moment, as if really considering my words. Then he rushes to catch up to me. “No, I want to know what’s so bloody great about you,” he says.

I give him a strange look. “I never claimed for anything to be so great about me.”

“Maybe not but you sure act like it, so tell me: what is so bloody great about you? What makes you so special that you think yourself better than everyone else here?”

It’s my turn to stop in my tracks. “Who the hell said I think I’m better than everyone?”

“No one has to say it, Princess.” The way he says Princess feels like venom on his tongue.

I want to hit him. Punch him in the face and give him a great bloody nose. I want to hex him. Maybe knock him off his feet. I want to scream at him. Scream that I don’t think myself better than everyone, that I’m just an imposter pretending to be perfect all the time.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect.

Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was eleven and my family was getting ready to drop me off at Hogwarts for the first time.

“Do not cry, darling, it’s unbecoming,” my mother says to me. “Soon you will be sorted into Slytherin and prepare to continue your family’s legacy. You must show strength at all times, even if you do not feel it. We can not be perceived as weak.”

A single tear snakes out of the corner of my eye and down the apple of my cheek. I look down and it falls to the ground by my feet. Another tear falls, and before I know it I am fully crying. I start to struggle to breathe.

When I look back up to Sirius he looks terrified. He must think he’s what’s made me cry. The truth is it’s the last five years that have built up to weigh on me continually. It’s the way my life was gilded and no one had ever cared to look below the surface until a few weeks ago when Remus Lupin offered to help me study. Until James Potter offered to go for a run. Until Sirius Black offered me a cup of tea.

My quiet tears begin to turn into choked sobbing as I realize how sad my life really was, that these three Gryffindors had shown me a kind of genuine caring that I hadn’t known could exist.

Hesitantly, Sirius takes my hand to lead me over to a nearby bench so I can sit down and try to collect myself. It takes several minutes for me to control my breathing, and several more for my tears to subside. I finally look down to notice that I’m still holding Sirius’s hand, that I’d actually been holding it quite firmly.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I release his hand from my grasp. “You were right. Everything is so very complicated.”

Sirius gives me that same look he did last night, and I realize. He wasn’t sad for me, he understood me. But how was it fair that he would get to leave, when his brother and I were left behind with our authoritarian families? Selfishly, I think maybe he could show me the way.

I sit there, lost in my thoughts, for a long while. Sirius stays with me. Eventually the bells toll to indicate it was time for lunch. When I glance up at Sirius, he’s already looking at me.

“Can I make you an offer?” He asks.

I grow weary at his words. “I would suppose that depends on what the offer is.”

“Well, your eyes are red and swollen and you’ve got mascara tracked down your cheeks,” he starts and I grow horrified as I realize what I must look like. There was no way I could go into the Great Hall looking like the mess I surely am. He lets out a small laugh at my expression. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll grab us some lunch from the Great Hall. We can meet in the south courtyard.”

I was amazed that even after I’d been so mean to him, he would still be so kind to me.

“That would be quite nice actually. Thank you,” I reply softly.

Sirius gives me a swift nod, then helps me to stand up. We go our separate ways, me to my dorm to wash my face and apply some fresh mascara and concealer, and Sirius to the Great Hall.

─

I’ve just sat down in a corner of the courtyard for a couple minutes when Sirius shows up. I try not to look too shocked when James and Remus appear with him. Of course, I knew they were all friends, they went galavanting around the entire school proclaiming themselves marauders, but I’d never interacted with all three of them together.

It suddenly occurs to me that they likely share a dorm, and very well could have planned this all to be some grand prank on me. But they had all seemed so genuinely kind to me until this point, and I was so tired of constantly second guessing everyone’s intentions. I decided that if this were some prank I would let them have their fun at me, then show them the real wrath of Slytherin.

The three of them quickly set up a small picnic and begin lighthearted conversation. James compliments the way my hair looks today. Sirius teases James for the way his hair looks everyday, although I would argue it flatters him I don’t say that aloud. Remus gives me a knowing look as the two begin bickering.

Spending time with the three of them is easy, and feels right. Like it was always meant to be the four of us all together. None of them mentions my earlier breakdown, or even anything to do with our tests. I wonder what Sirius told them before they all came out here. Whatever it was, none of them shows me any judgment so I can guess he must have skipped over my rude behavior.

I’m sad when the bells ring again to signify the end of lunch. We clean up our area of the courtyard, then head back inside. Over the course of my time with the boys I feel my spirits lifted significantly, feeling much better and ready to face the next two weeks of tests.

It will be okay if I’m not perfect, I think to myself again, and this time I really do believe it. Because even if I’m only just getting to know Remus, James, and Sirius, I know that they are my friends and they’ll be there for me.

#poly!marauders x slytherin!reader #poly!marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders #marauders era #slytherin!reader #slytherin #remus lupin x sirius black #remus lupin x james potter #james potter x sirius black #harry potter fandom

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mamisfavmosher · 11 months

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I love your writing

Can you write about reader having a fight with the judgment day about something that happened like they were partying and some people couldn’t stop flirting with reader but they were feeling uncomfortable for example but reader was in the right but they wouldn’t believe them so that lead to a huge fight and reader feeling completely alone until someone realised they made a mistake and try to convince reader to take them back please?

thank you!

tainted trust // poly!judgment day x fem!reader

warnings: angst, yelling, insecure!jealous!judgment day, argument, language, etc

Readers POV

"You're pathetic, you know that?!" Rhea bellowed as soon as she slammed the front door shut. "You think you need to flirt with every man who gives you the slightest bit of attention! Are you that much of a whore? Huh?" Her aggression and anger were the most apparent out of the four of them.

Rhea's insults cut into me like knives. "I didn't flirt with him! I already told you that!" I defended. The Judgment Day and I had gone to a bar with some coworkers after the weekly show had ended and at some point throughout the night, the four gothic members had left my side for a few short moments. Enough time for some creep who had kept his eye on me to make a move.

*Back at the club

"Hey, beautiful! Let me buy you a drink!" The man shuffled toward me and attempted to grab my hand.

"No, thanks. I'm not interested." I tried to keep my voice blunt and void of emotions in hopes of turning the man away. As I took my eyes off of him to search for my partners in the crowd, his hands gripped my waist and pulled me into him. "Get off me!" My hands pushed at his chest until he released me.

"Relax, babe. I'm just having some fun!" He gave me a gross smile and ran his hand down my arm. I shoved his hand away and scanned the crowd in a panic. The four of them weren't hard to miss. Where could they be? "C'mon! Let's go dance!" The man forcefully grabbed me and pulled me along with him to the dance floor. He turned me around and tightly held my hips against him, preventing me from pushing away. As I worked on slapping his hands off of me, I noticed a tense energy surround us. I looked up to see the four members of the Judgment Day fuming with anger.

Damian shoved the man away from me while Rhea grabbed hold of my wrist and dragged me out to the car. The car ride back to the house was insanely tense and silent.

*Back at the house

"Bullshit! You weren't even doing anything about it! You just let him put his hands all over you!" Rhea shouted back.

"That's not true! Guys? You saw me trying to get away, right?!" I attempted to get backup from the boys, but to no avail, they looked equally unhappy.

Damian threw his keys and wallet down on a side table before looking over at me with a glare. "Don't try and act dumb. We all saw what you were doing." His tone gave it away that he wasn't on my side.

"But I wasn't doing anything! I was trying to get him off of me!" I was exasperated at this point.

"We won't tolerate lying, and we definitely won't tolerate cheating. Either admit what you were up to and explain yourself, or find somewhere else to stay tonight." Finn sighed in disappointment and crossed his arms, waiting for my response.

My jaw dropped at his ultimatum. "What? You can't be serious-"

"Dead serious. You heard the man. Make your choice." Rhea cut me off and seeped her words with poison. I looked at them all, trying to determine if they were being literal. They definitely were. I shook my head in frustration, snatched up my bag, and stormed out the front door. I don't know if Liv is back from the club yet, but I'll wait on her front porch until she is...

Liv had actually gotten home only five minutes before I arrived at her place, and she immediately brought me inside and had me tell her all about the drama that just ensued. To say she was angry was an understatement. She was completely dumbfounded at how they had treated me.

The feisty blonde sent a lengthy text message to the group members about how they were in the wrong, I would never do something like this, how blessed they are to have me, and then followed up with some threats if they didn't apologize. She insisted we have a fun sleepover to forget the fight, and I couldn't say no.

***next morning

A harsh pounding on the front door woke the both of us up and Liv hurried to go see who it was. I heard her mumbling before she quickly came back to me. "They're here." She gave me a look of reassurance and allowed me room to walk past her.

I took a deep breath before opening the front door.

"Hey. We need to talk." Rhea demanded and motioned for me to step outside. I obliged, closing the door behind me. She sighed and raked a hand through her dark hair. "Tell us the truth. Were you flirting with that guy?" She asked, her face wore an expectant expression.

"No! I told you guys that last night, but you didn't believe me!" I was quickly becoming defensive, ready to pick up the argument where it had left off.

"We believe you, honey. Liv sent us a long message and helped clear everything up." Damian stepped in. "We're sorry. You tried to tell us and we wouldn't listen to you. It's our fault." He apologized.

I took a moment to think to myself, contemplating how easily my forgiveness should be handed out. I mean, they kicked me out of the house without even letting me explain.

"So," Finn interrupted my thoughts. "Are we forgiven, love? You ready to come home?"

I let out a huff. "I'm not happy about the situation and how I was treated last night, but I'm content for now. I can't forgive you all so easily right now. My feelings are hurt and I don't really feel like everything's okay yet. I just think we still need to talk about it a bit more when we get home?" I looked around to gauge their expressions.

"Sounds fair to me." Dom smiled.

I grabbed my stuff from inside Liv's house and headed to the car. While Damian loaded my bag into the trunk, Rhea gazed at me in the rearview mirror.

"Baby..." Her eyes flicked away, instead turning her body to face me. "Are we gonna be okay?" She motioned between us and then to the boys outside of the car.

I nodded with a small smile. "We'll be okay, Mami. Promise." Seeing relief flash in her eyes, I quickly kissed her cheek. "Everything will be perfectly okay."

#the judgement day #rhea ripley #wwe #damian priest #dominik mysterio #finn balor #wwe superstars #fanfiction #rhea ripley x reader #dominik mysterio x reader #damian priest x reader #finn balor x reader #wwe x reader #poly!judgment day #judgment day angst #wwe angst #request

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julas-little-spot · 6 months

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Petition to call the Feisty Five polycule as Poly Posse

PLEASE the alliteration is important

#Jula Rambles #undertale yellow #feisty five #starlo uty #uty starlo #starlo #ed uty #uty ed #moray uty #uty moray #ace uty #uty ace #mooch uty #uty mooch #uty

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thatsafuckeduptale · 9 months

Text

we are all blind. the feisty five is just a poly relationship and they're all dating each other.

moray also starts to date martlet at some point

#undertale yellow #im not sorry #they literally all live together and its so homo

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soullessmocha · 4 years

Text

men after midnight || part one.

{ poly!the lost boys x fem!reader }

|| part two ||

rating: explicit

word count: 3287

chapter summary: y/n organizes a beach bachelorette party for her best friend. just as the party was getting started it is crashed by a group of punks dressed in leather with big attitudes. y/n is hesitant at first but as the night goes on they are enchanted by their charm.

warning: fem!reader, use of alcohol, use of tobacco, mentions of jealousy, heavy petting, dirty talk, sexual tension, and slow burn.

a/n: i re-listened to the mamma mia sound track and this is what came to my brain. this has not been proof read and i am posting his five hours before i have to go into work, so no sleep for me. but enjoy!

An airy laugh left your lip escaping into the wine glass. The wine swished as your body shook from the brief moment of entertainment. Digging your toes in the cold sand of the night you are kept warm by the bonfire that sat parallel to you. The echoes off laughs surround you as the other members of the bridal party are laughing about themselves as well to the story that the bride, your best friend, was telling,

“No I swear, it was the funniest thing I have ever seen, that poor waiter must’ve been so embarrassed. I tipped him like 25% because I felt so bad!” The bride's words are broken by the laughter that she cannot contain. Her own body leaning back trembling with laughter as she clutched her beer bottle in her left hand. Your eyes admire the glimmer of the rock that sits on her ring finger. Every time your eyes even glanced towards it you felt a pang in your chest. This was your best friend. There is no way you should be hurt, or jealous by it. But why were you? You’re still young, full of life, in need for an adventure. You don’t need to be tied down by a ring and a piece of paper. Titling your head down you glance down at your wine glass and take a deep breath, suddenly no longer laughing like the rest of the group. The voices around you go muffled as you start to think about the wedding that is only weeks away. The duties of being the maid of honor was starting to sit on your shoulders. You were the one to set up a bachelorette party. The bride didn’t want anything special, just a night of hanging out and drinking. Something you two haven’t done since the two of you were in high school. You were cut out of your trance when the girls started to squeal and get up. One of the bridesmaids started to turn up the radio. A chuckle left your nose as the ABBA - Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie! starts to blast through the speakers of the large stereo. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you sipped your merlot not paying attention to the women dancing around the fire. It wasn’t until a figure covered your light and warmth from the fire did you look up. The bride, your best friend, Jennifer was standing in front of you. Her white crop top and skirt accompanied with a flower crown was in your presence as she held out an extended hand. “Come on! We used to dance to this song all in the clubs!” She whined, shaking her hand for you to take and presumably dance along with her and the four other girls. You shake your head, “Fine, but you get to pour me another glass after this,” you respond tilting your head back to chug the rest of your wine. As you did so you grasped her hand setting down your empty glass next to the drift wood you sat along.

Standing you could feel the instant rush of the alcohol invade your system making your stomach feel warm and fuzzy. Then your head started to feel light and relieved. You danced along with the other girls as everyone danced along the fire. You stopped dancing around the fire as everyone, including yourself started to sing along to the excitement of the song.

“There's not a soul out there! No one to hear my prayer!” You belt at the tops of your lungs pausing at different poses to the beat before letting the song drop. You start jumping and laughing, your subconscious being grateful that the beach was practically abandoned for it was nearing midnight. Though the group was a distance away from the boardwalk to not be interrupted by any juvenile attitudes.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away!” You laugh and grove your hips along with the melody enjoying yourself and getting lost in the music, “Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Take me through the darkness to the break of the day!” You start dancing around the fire once more enjoying your time grooving along, not noticing the four figures emerging from the darkness.

“Well it looks like your prayers have been answered ladies!” A booming voice cracks through your musical hypnotic state. This causes you to jump and a couple of the girls to shriek but laugh it off. You however weren’t laughing. You were quite pissed at the interruption, “Sorry fellas this is a private function!” You holler from afar, the look on your features clearly unamused. Yet you couldn’t help but be amused by the get up of the loud one. His hair tufted into a long blonde straight mullet, donning a fishnet shirt and a blazer with a chain of coins trailing down his chest and safety pins scattered through the fabric. There was only a ripple of giggles and chuckles, but the grip on your arm from the bride was what made you look at her. “Y/N! I think it’ll be fine if these boys join us. I mean look at how cute they are,” she whispers into your ear before biting her lip and clearly eye-fucking the boys. You open your mouth to protest but Jennifer started to pout at you giving you big puppy dog eyes.

“We’ll be good, Y/N. Won’t we boys?” The one in the front of the semi v formation calls towards you, the sound of your name coming from him causes shivers to go down your spine. You huff and roll your eyes. “Fine, but one funny move and I am kicking all of your asses.” You spat returning towards your piece of the driftwood as the girls started to whisper amongst themselves and started to offer the men drinks. Are they even allowed to drink? You question to yourself before grappling your empty glass from the sand to go fill it up at the drinking station. The girls continue to sing and enjoy their time but your mood has switched a complete 180. As you reach out for the Merlot bottle fingerless gloves grasp it before you can. “Merlot, aren’t you fancy. This isn’t even the cheap shit.” You look up trying to connect the voice to the face. Your eyes met a small face framed by curly long hair and a Cheshire like grin. “Yeah, I should’ve gotten the cheap shit. Sometimes it has a high alcohol content.” You reply with a smirk trying not to be hostile and ruin the mood of the party.

One of his hands grasped your wrist softly pulling your hand towards his body. The man carefully poured you a decent glass. “The name’s Marko,” he starts before looking you up and down. The action causes you to blush. Marko took a red cup himself and filled it a little bit, “I am guessing your the manager of the function. I hope we can keep you ladies entertained tonight. We did hear your call,” his sly grin grew on his lips. A chuckle left your lips, “I’m pretty sure we were fine on our own. But thank you Marko, if it was up to me you guys wouldn’t be drinking our alcohol and partying.” You reply bluntly sipping your wine, but then the sudden chill causes the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. “Man, this babe is feisty,” the one who interrupted the party in the first place calls from behind you. He places his hand on the small of your back as he reaches over you to grab a red solo cup. Marko poured him some wine as well and smirked towards his friend, “Y’know Paul, it’s not nice to invade the ladies space.”

The one named Paul snickered from behind her, “I think she’s just fine with it, aren’t you babe?” He asks you with his breath caressing your ear, causing a tingle to form in your brain. You clear your tightening throat to slip from his grip. “Not really,” you admit honestly and he feigned an expression of hurt. “Ouch,” Marko however on the other hand could only laugh at this interaction. You parted yourself from the boys cheering yourself from the two men and sigh to yourself as you trudge back to your bench of driftwood. Once you sit yourself down you watch as the two blondes start to mingle themselves with the girls. They clearly were flirting with all of them, including the bride, she was playing with Marko’s ornate jacket. Twirling the fringes between her fingers and grazing the patches. In reaction you chug the wine out of pure petty anger and lean back to stare into the fire.

“So who’s the lucky one?” You whip your head behind you to see the platinum blonde standing behind you admiring the crowd along with you. “I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he bluntly states as he pops a cigarette between his pink lips. The first thing you notice is his bright blue eyes that seemingly glowed in the dark. You could only roll your eyes and give a dull chuckle. You lift your left hand, “Clearly. She’s the one in the flower crown. Well the one with the biggest flower crown.” You inform crossing your bare legs over one another. The sudden smell of burning tobacco and nicotine hit your nose, but you try to ignore it. Before you knew it he was sitting beside you. He held the cigarette out towards you between his leather glove clad fingers, your eyes flickering to it before flickering to his. He raises his brows and nudges it towards you, “Thanks,” you mumble plucking it from his fingers and taking a couple of puffs before handing it back to him, “I’m David. I see you have already met Paul and Marko. The brunette is Dwayne. Thank you for letting us join your function.” David snickers, leaning back and letting the smoke come out of his nose. “Well it wasn’t my choice,” you start and David tilts his head towards you in pure curiosity, “Clearly, it’s not your party,” You blink at him as you try to figure out whether his tone was condescending or not. “Yeah, you’re right. Not my party.” You reply by taking another gulp of your wine hoping the farther you got down the glass the quicker time would go by.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, and you don’t look like you're having fun at all. At least not like the way you did before,” He notes before inhaling a deep draw from his cigarette. An airy chuckle leaves your lips, “Not really, the party got crashed- Wait, you were watching us?” this time it was David’s turn to chuckle, “We heard the amount of fun and Paul couldn’t resist himself to a party.” You furrow your brows at the reply, “So why did you follow?”

“I can’t say no to a night of fun.” He responds giving you a smirk leaning closer towards you, starting to close the proximity. Heat rises to the tips of your ears and the base of your neck. You try to fool yourself, it's the alcohol. However, you can smell the man’s cologne and musk directly off of him. It was so hypnotizing. Just like his eyes, you tilt your head slightly as he continues to speak, “Have some fun, Y/N.” he states, quipping his index finger under your chin. Suddenly you felt your whole body go numb and your mind go blank.

As the night grew you found yourself getting more comfortable with the punks. You were not in the arms of Dwayne, the two of you swaying back and forth to the music as the other two were dancing with the other girls. David sat chatting with the bride clearly enchanting you with his charisma you picked up on so quickly. You glance over your shoulder to look at David who was talking to the bride, yet as you looked over his piercing blue eyes flicked your way. A sudden sly smirk on his lips left you mouth agape with wonder at what was happening in his eyes. Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen echoes through the night sky. Dwayne however gripped your chin between his thumb and index and pulled your attention to him. His hands rested back on your lower back barely grazing the bare skin under your clipped shirt. “It’s rude to not focus on your dancing partner,” he muses with a charming smirk as he pulls you closer flush to his bare chest. A slight gasp left your lips as the contact surprised you. You swallow and look up into his piercing brown eyes, “I-I’m sorry,” you whisper clearly blushing under the moonlight but was thankful it was dark and farther from the fire. “I was only joking,” he claims before spinning you out and pulling you close once more. Your hands rested awkwardly on his shoulders. Keeping eye contact with you, his fingers grazed your sides, ghosting over your sides as he pulled them up your arms. He formed your hands behind his neck. You couldn’t help but smile at the small gesture as your eyes trail along the painted leopard on his arm. “You’re more relaxed,” he notes and you nod at him, “Yeah, thank you for pulling me away from those two. I thought my brain was going to hemorrhage if I kept talking to them,” You tease about Marko and Paul, to which Dwayne could only chuckle. As the second chorus started to pick up Dwayne settled his leg between yours, “Believe it or not they bring the fun with them,” Dwayne replies, starting to smile as he twists you to where his chest was flush with yours. You freeze for a moment as the chorus builds up, “Yet maybe, we can offer a different kind of fun?” Dwayne whispers in your eyes, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. You instantly felt your cheeks get hot as his large hands travel down your sides to your hips guiding you to sway along with him. You could feel your backside grazing his groin as he pulled you closer with guidance. Your breath started to pick up as your heart raced with anticipation as one of his hands traveled to your navel splaying across only his pinky dipping in your waistband of your denim shorts. Looking up from the sand your eyes connect with David’s who held an intense eye contact with you as you started to feel yourself unravelling. “I asked you a question,” Dwayne whispers once again in your ear trialing his lips down to your neck, long brown hair cascading down your chest. His seemingly chilled lips contrasted against your hot skin. “I- I- don’t-” you choke out as you feel another finger enter your waist band, causing heat to grow at your core. You hand held onto his with a deathly clutch.

You feel his bare chest rumble from a chuckle as he ground himself into you, nipping at the base of your ear. You gasp from the action, a surge of adrenaline rush didn’t make you correlate as Dwayne pulled you back around to only grasp your belt loop and spin you away from him. You land in another person’s arms, you look up to see Paul looking down at you. His handsome smile beaming down at you as he pulls you close. “Finally, I was starting to feel Dwayne was going to keep you all to himself.” He smirks as pulls your waist down, guiding you to dance alone with him, his hips moving seemingly against yours. Your lips parted as your heat grazed for a moment against his thigh, “Why were you starting to get jealous?” You couldn’t help but tease. The tease caused Paul to quirk his brows in surprise but also amusement, “It’s not fair for him to hold someone as fit as you to himself,” he quips pulling your hips down so your core continues to grind on his thigh. A gasp leaves your lips involuntary, “Especially when you gasp like that,” Paul rasped against your parted lips. You head spun with how all of this was happening and how quickly. Heavy pants coming from both parties started to ignite a fire deep within. On instinct you close the gap between his and your lips, engaging in a fiery kiss that took your breath away. As your hands crawled up Paul’s chest to wrap your arms around your neck you feel fingerless gloves graze under your shirt. Then a pressure from behind the culprit you assumed to be Marko pressed amongst you dancing along as well. You part your lips from Paul, hypnotized by ministrations from both of the men.

Marko had both his hands up your cropped shirt gently clawing and pawing at the plush bare skin underneath. “Starting without me?” Marko asks against your shoulder before pressing his lips to your skin. You tense a moment before relaxing into his touch, wrapping an arm behind you to Marko’s neck, drowning in the intoxicating smell of both men’s scents. The grinding and the pressure from both of the men caused you to pant along with the beat. “The fun’s just starting.” Paul purrs as Marko connects his lips to the crook of your neck. The sensation causes a sigh to leave your lips and you loll your head to the side giving him more access to your neck. Marko’s hands trailed down, over Paul’s hands on your hips to your thighs. He even gently grazes his index finger over your zipper before gripping the hem of your denim shorts, digging his nails into your skin as he bites down on your neck with his blunt teeth. You gasp distracted by the excitement to notice Paul leaving your grip. Your hands grip his as your nails dig into his gloves. You close your eyes for a moment letting a sigh float from your lips as he pulls you by your belt loop like Dwayne and spinning you away from him.

You snap your eyes open to see your hands land on a layer of leather. Your toes touched the tips of boots. You graze your hands to the black t-shirt. Gloved fingers pinch your chin and pull it upwards. You are met by stark blue eyes and a honeyed voice, “Having fun?” David asks, tilting his head down as he waits for your breathless answer. You could only nod as your legs felt like jelly and your head spun at a million miles per house. “Good,” he whispers against your lips, ghosting his breath that had reminisce of cigarette on it. You were in trouble. You thought to yourself. His other hand pulled you close by the small of your back to press against him as he entrapped you in a powerful kiss. You could feel the tip of his nose pressed against your cheekbone. His gloved hand moved from pinching your chin to grasping your neck just below your jaw. His kiss swallows your quiet moment that you tried your hardest to suppress. David pulls away after a moment, his hand still placed under your jaw as he admired your flushed face. You could only admire his face amongst the bonfire that lit his dilated pierced ocean eyes that looked at you as if you were his next meal. A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he looked at your haphazard state. “Are you ready to get your prayers answered?” He questions with a knowing smirk. The only response you can give him was keeping your lips parted as his eyes sunk you deeper in a hypnotic state. You slowly nod as his gloved hand caresses your cheek.

#soulless writes #the lost boys #men after midnight #The Lost Boys 1987 #the lost boys fanfiction #david the lost boys #marko the lost boys #dwayne the lost boys #paul the lost boys #i need to quench my thirst now #i literally won't sleep after this #enjoy ya filthy animals #poly!the lost boys #the lost boys x reader

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starmieknight · 3 years

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in the lonely ocean (a child of the moon)

Chapter One: In Which Hari Makes a Friend

Pairing: (poly) Jeongguk x Jimin x Taehyung x Original Character, [background OT7 implied]

Summary: Hari is an exchange student spending a year abroad to learn more about her grandfather's heritage while she attends university, but stumbles into the strange, magical underbelly of his old hometown when she is saved by one of the university's heart throbs, Park Jimin.

When Hari returns the favor and saves him from a scorned witch, she finds herself cursed and reliant on the youngest members of the Bangtan Coven, all of which are suffering from their own curses.

To save herself, Hari must first save them.

Contents: maknae line centric, Hyung Line is away for this story but no less loved and mentioned often, the boys are all whipped for each other, Polyamory, Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Witches, Alternate Universe - College/University, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Slow Burn

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven (coming soon)

In the lesser-known underworld of society, where magic rings and swords made of moonlight exist, it was an unfortunate thing to wander in when you’ve spent your whole life living in the mundane. Everyone born in magic pitied and scorned those without, wondering how they could ever go on with their lives without the perks that having magic offered them.

Madison Moon was one such person, a mundane who wandered her way into the magical. There was some speculation that she had magical ancestry herself, but she wouldn’t come to realize this until much later in her life.

She was already odd enough as a mundane human, too quiet and too obedient a child to a domineering father and his wife, a woman as soft as tomato sauce but stubborn as the condiment when it dried. Their daughter was an odd combination of their personalities and could be as stubborn and take charge as they were, but was also a people pleaser who disliked to agree with anyone.

Her grandfather had demanded she be named after his sister in hopes that his first grandchild would give him some living reminder of the only family he had outside of his son. But the original Moon Hajoon’s feisty attitude seemed missing in the girl, though they shared a range of expressions that seemed identical to each other at times, though the pair had never met.

Grandfather Moon had dubbed his oldest grandchild Hari, due to the resemblance, and Hari was who she grew up to be.

Madison Moon might have grown up to have seemed a bit magical in adulthood with a bouncing name like that. Hari Moon just seemed strange, Hari not even a proper nickname.

Even with her reserved personality and dislike of challenging authority, Grandfather Moon had been very fond of his granddaughter and doted on her as best he could. He hadn’t gotten along very well with his son, Hari’s father, when the man had been a boy, and it might have been his way of making things up by being kinder to his daughter. Or maybe Grandfather Moon had wanted a daughter himself instead of a son.

It was hard to tell and Grandfather Moon never spoke of his feelings on the matter.

But his favoritism worked in favor of Hari’s future, particularly when she received the chance to study abroad in Tan, South Korea. Grandfather Moon had been raised there until his emigration and had a few ties with old friends. The moment Hari had expressed interest in visiting his home country, Grandfather Moon had picked up the phone and somehow secured Hari a year’s stay there to study at Boseon University.

Hari, not willing to give up the opportunity or argue with her grandfather, dutifully packed up her bags and accepted her plane ticket.

Which led her to the start of her problems and her first peek and following foray into the magical community.

Hari had spent about a week and a half, most of it in classes and studying, but she had yet to make a single candidate for a friend.

She stood out too much. She had a Korean name and a face that didn’t match it at all. She had the reddish brown hair that ran on her mother’s side of the family where everyone came out with that copper tone or a sunny blonde that often was sun bleached nearly white by the time the kids were two. Hari had little of her father’s features, the shape of their noses being the only thing they really shared, Hari’s a bit smaller and a more gently curved hook shape. She didn’t look like Grandfather Moon or her Great Aunt Hajoon at all.

Hari wished that she had chosen to go by Madison here. At least it would have been a standout name to match a standout girl.

Some of the other kids were interested in her. Hari was someone new and different after all. Tan was a city, but a bit of a small town, too. Most of the college students there were alumni of the local high school and had known each other for years. Getting a new addition to the gene pool was supposed to be a good thing. But once Hari opened her mouth and started to speak, they laughed at her.

Hari spoke like an old man. It wasn’t really her fault. Her grandfather had been the one to teach her how to speak Korean, her father too interested in being as American as he could. Hari hadn’t been allowed to speak anything but English in his house, even if her mother had enjoyed the way the language sounded and encouraged her daughter to learn it. Mama had always been more open-minded and willing to embrace learning about one’s heritage. She never stood up to her husband about it though, but Hari had often heard them arguing about it when they thought their daughter couldn’t hear them.

Just when Hari was starting to think that maybe the other kids were ignoring her, or even avoiding her, a girl sat down beside her in their Literature class and gave her a pitying smile.

Hari thought that might have been worse than being ignored.

She smiled back tightly at the newcomer, trying not to pay too much attention to her as she tried to follow the professor’s lecture. Hari hated to admit it, considering that good grades were something she had always been able to boast about, but she wasn’t handling her new classes very well. She was fluent in speaking Korean, but the professor spoke so quickly that it seemed that he was speaking a totally different language.

The new girl slipped Hari a note, just like they were back in elementary school, and Hari bit back a smile at that. The girl just shrugged, waving her phone a bit.

It wasn’t like she could text her what she wanted to say.

Hey, the note said simply.

Hari let her grin out and wrote back.

Hey.

The new girl laughed quietly to herself at the mirrored response. It was just like how texting someone for the first time went. At least some things never changed.

My name is Cha Migyeong.

Hari mouthed the response to herself, then glanced up at the professor to make sure he was occupied before quietly whispering the name out to make sure she understood it right. She was still confused about how to pronounce things sometimes.

“Cha Migyeong?” Hari asked, getting a grin from the other girl. “Nice to meet you. I’m H- Moon Hari.”

“Ha-Ri.” Migyeong mused, tilting her head. “I’ve never met anyone with that name before.”

“It’s a nickname.” Hari shrugged. “My grandfather named me Hajoon, but I’m the second in my family, so he mixed it up with Duri and made my nickname. My legal name is actually Madison, but I’ve never been called that, even by my mom’s side.”

“American?” Migyeong asked curiously, lifting a stray wave of Hari’s auburn waves. “You don’t look very Korean.”

“Only, like, a fourth.” Hari grimaced at the reminder. “I feel like a real alien here. One that’s trying to be undercover but sucks at it.”

Migyeong laughed, surprised but amused. “I’ll bet. I’ve seen how everyone is tiptoeing around you, too. I bet you haven’t even been to the hangouts around here without someone to show you the ropes.”

“I live in the library.” Hari confirmed gravely, though she was beginning to get excited about where the conversation was going.

Finally, someone was about to ask her to hang out together after class. And Hari wouldn’t have to explain to anyone where she was going either, now that there wasn’t anyone waiting for her to come home.

Living in her own (grandfather funded) apartment was another unexpected perk to living abroad. Not having to deal with her father every day was another. Hari loved the man, but he was very overbearing. Sometimes, she felt afraid to breathe wrong in his presence for fear of criticism.

“After class, let me show you the cafe? It’s the best place for iced coffee and writing a paper at the last minute. They stay open twenty-four-seven!”

Hari groaned in delight at the idea. “Iced coffee sounds amazing. And Starbucks is so far away from the University. I feel like I haven’t had a good cup in ages.”

“It’s a date then.” Migyeong grinned, her smile mellowing to something a bit shyer. “A friend date, I mean.”

Hari bobbed her head in agreement, catching an unsaid hint from the other girl. “Sounds awesome. Prepare to watch me drink two venti sizes in ten minutes. I’m starved of my proper caffeine fix.”

“Ahem,” a quiet voice interrupted, startling the girls. Their professor was watching them with a stern expression, but his eyes were amused. “Perhaps you’ll want to start bringing your coffee to class, Miss Moon. And one for Miss Cha as well, if it will improve concentration between you two.”

Hari bowed her head, flushing to her ears. “Sorry.”

Migyeong looked similarly chastised.

The professor just shook his head a bit before returning to his lecture.

Migyeong slipped Hari another note, this one with a string of numbers beneath the message.

My phone number, in case we lose each other before we make it to the cafe?

Hari smiled to herself and added the number to her contacts, quickly sending Migyeong a text.

The girl was snickering to herself as she saved Hari’s information, grinning as she showed the exchange student the emojis she added next to her name.

Hari laughed at the sight of the alien head and the coffee mug next to the American flag. It was cute and felt like the beginning of an inside joke.

Within five minutes, Hari felt less alone in the world than she had in over a week.

Related works: Gray Morning, Golden Home; Plus One, Two, Three

#bts x oc #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x original character #bts magic au #poly bts #jungkook #jimin #taehyung #bangtan #my writing #light in a nocturnal world

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art-emis99 · 8 months

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the road to forgiveness (is paved with guilt and grief)

Summary:

This is what she had planned, right? Why are her eyes watering when she picks up the bloody, burned corpse? She has no right to be holding them like this, like she hadn't caused their suffering. Then why do her hands shake as she seals the soul inside its container? Ceroba returns to the Wild East with a filled soul container, two unconscious monsters, and blood on her hands. - Or, during the true pacifist ending, Clover gives up just a little earlier. Or, or, five times the Feisty Five forgives Ceroba, and one time she forgives herself.

#undertale yellow #uty #undertale #ceroba ketsukane #uty ceroba #ceroba #uty feisty five #uty fanfic #fanfiction #poly posse uty #poly posse #<bg but still #my writing

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cosmicskittlez · 9 months

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Something focusing on Ace and how he is more withdrawn compared to others please?

Oh absolutely! Ace x Feisty Five -Ace can get more overwhelmed than the others so he usually heads home a little early to recharge. The rest of the posse will leave him treats or letters by the door while they take care of the town.

-Ace also has a problem talking about his emotions, be it negative or positive. He keeps a scrapbook of his favorite memories but unfortunately he looks either neutral or annoyed the whole time. But the others have learned to read his body language over his facial expressions, so they can understand him a lot better now. -Most of the Feisty Five are huggers, however Ace is pretty touch adverse. So instead of hugs they like to give him a "hug card", a small card to represent positive affection instead. Ace keeps every one.

#this was a really fun prompt i love the more creative ones!#uty ace #uty feisty five #uty poly posse #undertale yellow

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kstewdeux · 4 years

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InuKag Week 2020: June 11th (Desire)

@inukag-week

Posting a day early is a thing I’m just doing now I guess.

Born to Run

Desire is the starting point of all achievement. It’s not a hope, not a wish but a driving force that overrides all obstacles. And one little girl desired one thing above all others.

“Where we going?” a tiny little girl in a bright green kimono asked a little too innocently as she trailed behind one of her favorite people in the world. The man in question sighed heavily as he stopped mid-stride and glanced over his shoulder with affection clear in his amber eyes. It was an expression few had witnessed and even fewer were the recipients of. Maybe, just maybe, the bitter half-demon had a favorite niece. Which was probably bad and which would probably bite him in the ass one day but it was what it was. Minato was bookish and quiet and while more than willing to go along with her sister’s rough housing would much prefer painting to play fighting. Kasumi, on the other hand, was all action and energy and go go go all the time. She had no fear and it was endlessly endearing. Terrible for her parents but fantastic for him. The little one was truly a girl after his own heart.

“What’s all this about ‘we’, huh?,” Inuyasha laughed as he arched a single brow. It was purely rhetorical, of course. The little one had accompanied him on his daily runs for the last three months at least. It started as an attempt to calm her down and give her parents a break but now it was routine. A much appreciated routine. It had been getting harder this past year. Almost three years had now passed and the well still wouldn’t let him go through. Which meant Kagome couldn’t get through either. And with his friends’ happiness only growing while he stood still, it was nice to know that out of that happiness came a little being who thought her uncle was the best thing ever.

And truth be told, Inuyasha hadn’t given up hope that he’d have his own happy ending quite yet and he considered his interactions with the twins as practice for...for when Kagome did come back and...and he had a little girl of his own. Or a boy but preferably a girl. Babies probably weren’t all that different when they were small but hell, they might and he would much rather stick with what he knew.

Grinning sheepishly at his question, Kasumi toddled up to him and extended her arms.

“Up.”

“Just a perimeter run, okay?” Inuyasha informed her as he plucked up the little girl, planted her firmly atop his shoulders and tilted his head slightly to loosen his hair, “You remember the drill?”

“Stay quiet. Stay still,” Kasumi whispered excitedly as she wiggled her butt and wrapped her tiny arms around his forehead, “No ears.”

“If there’s a bad guy?”

“Roly poly,” she swore softly as she leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “Go real fast.”

“Always do kid,” Inuyasha chuckled before launching forward at full speed. It’d probably make Sango and Miroku angry as hell but yeah, he’d fought and killed a few demons while in the custody of their child. But come on! It wasn’t like he went looking for fights and if they encountered a demon what else was he supposed to do? Run?

It had taken a few times to figure out the best way to protect a tiny wiggle worm. Thus the ‘roly poly’ technique was born. Let go. Curl up. Get tucked inside the shirt. Stay that way until it’s safe.

Wasn’t like it bothered the kid. She was probably the toughest two almost three year old he’d ever had the pleasure of encountering. Besides her mom killed demons. Her dad killed demons. Her uncles both killed demons. She was gunna kill demons and be damn good at it. She had to learn what that entailed at some point.

“Stop. Stop,” Kasumi whispered urgently and Inuyasha instantly came to a full halt as his ears twitched madly.

“Do you sense something?” he asked barely above a whisper as amber eyes scanned the foliage. It was usually around this age spiritual powers first started appearing so Miroku had told him. The monk’s eyes had been pretty much glued on Minato for months now because he had hedged his bets that the calmer twin would have spiritual powers but Inuyasha....

Inuyasha knew that calmness had nothing to do with spiritual powers. Kagome had been feisty and strong and fearless and one of the most powerful priestesses ever born. How quickly Miroku appeared to have forgotten...

Must be nice.

“No, I have a question,” Kasumi humphed as she unhooked one leg and began awkwardly sliding down his arm, “How did you get so fast?”

“I, uh, I’m just built that way I guess,” Inuyasha laughed softly, “You know demon blood?”

“No,” Kasumi challenged as her tiny feet landed on the wooden bark, “Because Shippo would be fast then.”

Barely repressing a snort, Inuyasha adjusted himself so he was partially reclining against the tree trunk - one knee bent and one leg outstretched as he pulled the tiny girl into his lap.

“Everyone’s different,” Inuyasha reassured the upset little girl, “That doesn’t mean they’re better or worse. There’s all sorts of things that you will be able to do that I can’t do.”

Her little brown eyes widened as she breathed like the world made sense again, “Like eat curry and not turn red.”

God dammit did she have to be so fucking cute?

“Exactly,” Inuyasha snickered, “You’ll be fast one day but not as fast as me and that’s okay. You’ll do all sorts of things that’ll make you special.”

“Well I’m gunna be fast,” Kasumi huffed as she gave him a suspicious glare, “What did you do to go faster?”

“I...I, uh, actually thought I just explained that? You know...half-demon...” Inuyasha replied uneasily as he mentally played back his little speech before making a small noise of understanding, “Do you mean how I train? Guess I just run a lot. Strech and stuff.”

This seemed to appease her.

For exactly five seconds.

“The tree thing,” she continued as she gave him an adorable once over, “How did you learned to climb trees?”

Inuyasha had to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

“That I can teach you,” he offered affectionately, “But you’ll have to start with little trees because you’re little.”

“No I mean jumping,” she huffed in cute baby exasperation, “You jump really high.”

“Well you’re human so you can’t jump like I can,” Inuyasha replied as his grin faded. He had a feeling answering this particular question wrong would have him answering later for a broken leg, “You, um....so demons are built to do that and humans aren’t.”

“So your babies would be able to jump,” Kasumi concluded bitterly and Inuyasha’s heart constricted. First of all, how had she made that connection and second, just because hope was there didn’t mean...didn’t make it as strong as it once had been. Sighing heavily, his eyes clouded over for a minute as he allowed himself to remember full force Kagome in all her glory before locking that image away where it couldn’t hurt him anymore.

“I’m not...” he tried shakily before he shook his head and forced a smile back onto his face, “Yeah, if I have babies one day, they might be able to run fast like me.”

A piece of his heart cracked at the realization that there would most likely be no babies. She hadn’t come back and she would have by now if it was possible. Inuyasha knew she would have. And it wasn’t like...like he wanted her to spend the rest of her life alone waiting for him. He wouldn’t hold it against her if she moved on to better things. He didn’t want Kagome to suffer like he was. If Kagome didn’t come back, it would take him forever to move on and...and well frankly, he would never really be able to let go of the woman who literally traveled through time. She’d been born to meet him and he’d been born to meet her and....and that had been accomplished. Early on, he’d thought she was born to be with him but...but the longer time passed the more he believed he’d been misreading the signs. They’d met for a purpose and that purpose had been fulfilled. Anything more than that was asking too much. The delusional concoction of a lonely mind.

“Could Kagome jump?” Kasumi asked skeptically and Inuyasha’s strained, vacant smile faltered. He had thought....they’d discussed not telling the little ones about Kagome until they were older. He told them not to tell the twins until they were old enough to understand but they apparently did it anyway. But they’d promised him...

“How do you know about her?” he asked wearily as his stomach churned.

“Shippo told me who the lady in the picture was,” Kasumi replied evasively and some of the uneasiness in her uncle’s stomach faded, “Could you...”

“What picture?” Inuyasha asked with a hint of desperation and Kasumi fidgeted nervously, “Kasumi, what picture?”

“I didn’t steal it. I found it,” she mumbled miserably - obviously thinking he was upset at her and assuming the worst, “I did. I was digging and...

“No, no I’m not mad,” he reassured her, “You said you found ‘it’. What is ‘it’?”

“A necklace,” she whispered as she looked down at her hands and began wringing them, “It had pictures of you and a lady so I asked Shippo and...”

Inuyasha’s nostrils flared as he realized. The locket. Way back when, he’d lost it pretty much immediately because he’d been careless and not paying attention and it’d been raining and...and he just assumed he’d lost it during a battle or something and only noticed later on. He’d written it off when he couldn’t track the scent despite a lot of sleepless nights and then Kagome seemed to forget about the damn thing so he just....never mentioned it again for fear of upsetting her.

“Can I have it?” he asked softly and Kasumi glanced at him with a small pout, “I lost it a long time ago. I’d really like it back.

He could see her mind trying to figure out a way to keep the pretty thing she’d found.

“Just the pictures. That’s all,” he amended, “You can keep the necklace part.”

“Just the pictures?” Kasumi breathed and he nodded. Giving her Uncle an appraising look, the little girl finally countered, “You can have the picture of her.”

Inuyasha wanted to laugh at how begrudgingly she said that. And his heart warmed a little that his niece wanted to keep the picture of him. Weird but cute.

“Deal,” he promised as he fluidly got to his feet and scooped her onto his hip, “Now let’s finish the run, okay?”

“You’ll see. I’m gunna be faster than you one day,” Kasumi informed him, “I’m gunna.”

“I bet you will,” Inuyasha snickered as he placed her back into his shoulders, “Hang tight.”

It was a few months of ridiculously adorable training sessions and one new brother later that Inuyasha was stuck babysitting while Sango and Miroku did laundry. Kasumi was normally excellent at following the no ear rule but her sister never seemed to get that memo and because of that Kasumi thought if Minato was touching the ears they were fair game.

“Can you do something about the twins?” Inuyasha hissed angrily before flinching slightly when they pulled a little too hard.

“Sorry Inuyasha. Girls leave him alone,” the slayer sighed like that would actually make a difference which it didn’t! Sango probably knew it didn’t too and just thought...

Inhaling sharply, Inuyasha’s heart pounded in his chest as he deposited the slay happy twins on Shippo and took off without another word.

“Do you think...”

“Couldn’t be...”

“He wouldn’t run like if...”

As her parents continued shuffling about and discussing what Inuyasha running off meant, Kasumi slowly got to her feet as she stared off into the distance with a very deep pout. So Uncle’s lady friend had come back, huh? Which meant she’d soon have cousins. Uncle loved this Kagome lady and Kasumi knew when you love someone babies happened. Or something. The details were a little unclear but however it happened Uncle’s babies meant trouble. Her little eyes narrowed as her pout deepened into a scowl.

“They better not be faster than me.”

Moments later, Kasumi found herself plucked up and heading to size up the model for her future competition. If this woman was strong and fast like Uncle, that would be a big problem.

“I hope she’s fat.”

“Kasumi!”

#inukag fanfic #inuyasha #inuyasha fanfiction #kagome #miroku #sango #inukag-week #kstewdeux #read more #inukag #fanfiction #fanfic

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crosbymalkin871 · 4 years

Text

The Price of Love (1/?)

CHAPTER TITLE: All It Takes is One Huge Paycheck…

RATING: M PAIRINGS/CHARACTERS: E. Malkin/S. Crosby

CHAPTER WARNINGS/KINK: Alcohol, Foul Language, mentions of Prostitution, Mario Lemieux, vague allusions to Smut

AUTHOR’S NOTE: FINALLY! AFTER FOUR-FIVE MONTHS OF NO HOCKEY, THE LACK OF MOTIVATION, AND ME ACTUALLY NOT HAVING TO DEAL WITH A LOT OF STRESS, I’M FINALLY BACK!!!! Originally I wanted to post this the night of game 1, but shit happened and then I tried to post it before game 2, but y’all are getting it today! XD As a piece of compensation on my end, chapter 2 will be posted on Sunday evening. I promise, and if I don’t keep my word, bash me in the head with a hockey stick until I get a concussion.

Before you all begin reading, I just have to say thank you to everyone who has messaged me their excitement and their support throughout these difficult moments, it really means a lot. I also wish to extend my appreciation to 3 specific individuals: my friends @justinschultzy & @eafay70, and my dear Zhenya aka @cakemakethme (who will also be my Beta from chapter 2 or 3 onward). You three were the ones I continuously messaged updates on and your cheerleading was what ended up leading me to finishing this. So thank you very, very much! xxx

I have been wanting to write this fic for…gosh, maybe 2-3 years now and it’s finally being presented to all of you. I’m so excited for everyone to read it and to join me on this insane rollercoaster that is The Price of Love. With that all said and done I hope you all enjoy it, like and reblog, and I will (hopefully) post more sometime in the near future.

DISCLAIMER: I am not the owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins, or are associated with anyone in the NHL. I just have a very strong imagination.

A variety of noises ring out in Geno’s ears.

“Beer, over here!”

“Four sangrias for table three.”

“Vodka. Straight.”

“Whisky on the rocks.”

“Daiquiri. Make it a double.”

“Two champagne cocktails for table seven.”

Orders just keep coming and coming. He had been tossing and filling up a number of glasses and flutes for hours, sending them out left and right at the bar with almost no chance of having a small break in between. It was alright though, he grew used to it throughout his years of being one of the many favored bartenders at the Emperor Nightclub.

That, and he gets some real good money out of it, collecting all the large tips he gets whenever he cleans up the dirtied tables afterward.

With he and Tanger, his best friend and the other tender manning the bar, it feels like a marathon— albeit an easy one— to serve the feisty ladies and semi-agro men currently trying to take over the club.

The Emperor Nightclub is still up and running as the night starts to grow late. With a birthday bunch, a small group of ladies having a girl’s night, a married couple looking for a partner or two to join their bed (whether they were open or poly, Geno wasn’t sure), and college graduates dominating the patrons tonight along with the regulars— the nightclub roars as if it is New Year’s Eve in NYC instead of any other weekend in Pittsburgh.

No empty space could be seen on sight from where he was standing, with new patrons coming in the later part of the night, while the earlier patrons have made the decision to stay even after hours of partying and hollering.

Geno was given a small break as the crowd in front of the bar disperses, having been satisfied with the drinks they were given, taking whatever leftover bills he was given as a form of tip.

So far, it was a relatively good night for him.

Well…until a small, very familiar group came in, with the leader catching his eye like he usually does.

Being a bartender at a pretty famous nightclub in Pittsburgh, he sees a whole spectrum of people walking in and out of the nightclub’s doors: with some of them wanting to down tons and tons of alcohol that’ll make them black out until tomorrow afternoon, and others being on the prowl for someone to either take to their car, a nearby hotel, or even the nightclub’s bathroom.

One of them was about three or four, sometimes even more, prostitutes that are part of the latter category, but that doesn’t mean that they won’t take the time to chat with the bartenders, something that always brightened Geno’s night, especially when he was continuously swamped with drink orders…

…which is how Geno’s break ends: more people clamoring to the bar.

As of on cue, the moment that he continues to engage in dealing with patron’s drinks, the orders come rolling in even faster that he almost skipped a beat. From the corner of his eye, he could see the expression on Tanger’s face becoming more focused as his orders keep coming in with some extra flirting and touching from the patrons on his part.

He snorts at that. While Geno didn’t necessarily mind a customer or two coming up to flirt with him, he was never really interested in them, only responding back just to make their night a little bit better.

Out of all of his friends, it was Tanger that got the most attention from the patrons, with he following at a close second. It made sense because the French-Canadian looked like a supermodel. And himself? Well he wasn’t really sure if American people have a thing for foreigners like him, but he continuously gets complimented on his ability to wear a suit. So he considers that a plus.

His other friend, Dumo, tended to get third; primarily because he got a lot of attention from the college kids, either doing an insane number of shots or just randomly asking about his athletic abilities. Needless to say, it was very amusing to watch him wrack attention from the younger crowd. Though if anybody were to catch his eye, they should be aware of how damn good a cook he was.

The other two bartenders, Big Rig and Schultzy, also managed to garner themselves some attention from the patrons. Big Rig, for his height as he stood almost 7 feet tall (much taller than Geno), and Schultzy, for his happy-go-lucky personality. It was always something that made event the downiest of drinkers smile a little.

Even if he feels just a tad overwhelmed by the all of the drinks he has to quickly make, getting a glimpse of dark, curly black hair and a thick, white fur coat was enough to quell his nerves.

“You all need some additional help?”

A voice comes from Geno’s left side and it makes him jump a little (but not enough to make him mess up an order, which he has done before and has given the person who scared him a very stern talking to). He looks over to see who it was and finds Dumo standing there with his usual laid-back smile. Geno may or may not have breathed out a small sigh of relief at his arrival.

“Possibly, considering that G has been trying to catch a glimpse of Sid rather than seeing how much booze he’s pouring in.” Tanger smirks, placing at Geno teasingly.

Geno rolled his eyes and answered with a scoff. “Yeah. Like you not staring at Flower too, Tanger.” He feels a little vindication when seeing the French-Canadian man scowl in return. “But help always needed, Dumo. Things getting a bit out of hand and no one planning on going home soon.” Even though he knows he’ll get teased about it even more, his eyes couldn’t help wander off around the club, looking at all the excitement that is still going strong.

And again, seeing black curls and a white fur coat— Sid was his name— releases some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Alright then.” Dumo clapped his hands before he started to roll his sleeves of his button-up. “No one is really wanting drinks on my end of the bar, might as well waste time by giving you guys a hand.”

Neither Tanger or Geno responded to him as he already accepted his first round of orders from the loud frat boys and flighty sorority girls welcoming him, leaving the other two to tend the ones lining up at their respective corners.

Within the next minute or so, all three of them found themselves falling into a rhythm as they worked side-by-side, the drinks continuing to flow out and tips continuing to flow in. And with more patrons visiting the bar, come more even more orders and even more tips.

The extra pair of hands certainly help a lot in making the work feel a whole lot easier.

Dumo serves every patron that tries to start a conversation with him, listen to their problems in one ear while paying attention to orders in the other. He also subtly brushes off any flirty advances, but he does throw a smile here and a wink there to please all who are openly staring at him. He even does a little dance to the beat of the music as a little extra entertainment.

“Should’ve been a stripper, Dumo.” Tanger tells him as he stuffs some more bills into his pockets. “Missed the chance to be Magic Mike in Hollywood, but there’s still a chance here.”

Geno snorts as he slides a mint julep down the bar.

“Ha ha. Very funny, Tanger,” Dumo states unamused. “Can say the same about you too.”

Tanger just flips him off while Geno snorts again.

Eventually, the orders died down and the patrons scattered about. Dumo returned to the other bar on the opposite side of the room with Schultzy and Big Rig, while Tanger cleaned up any spilled alcohol left on the bar top.

Geno, meanwhile, began pouring more cocktails, glasses of wine, and laying more beer bottles onto a tray; but these were for any of the people hugging their half-full drinks, or for the tables that were littered with empty glasses and lime wedges.

No. This tray of drinks are for a certain group that he had noticed earlier.

Carefully, yet a little giddily, he manages to carry the tray single-handedly, and without spilling a single drop of liquor, all the way to a very specific table within the Emperor Nightclub.

As he walks closer and closer, the wild pacing of his heartbeat grows more and more. When he finally reaches the table, standing behind the object of his secret affections, he quietly gulps and places a gentle hand on his fur-covered shoulder.

The man stops whatever he was doing and turns around to look at him. And Geno swears he could feel his breath escaping his lungs and his rapidly-beating heart stopping.

Aside from their beautiful curly hair, the man also had the prettiest brown eyes and the biggest, most kissable lips imaginable (not that the bartender would ever admit that to him). He also had on an outfit that was not afraid to show off his…well, assets; outside of the white fur coat, he wore a white crop top with a red maple leaf on it, black leather shorts that magically fits his ass, and past those long, thick legs were a pair of black stripped high-heels that decorated his feet.

Sid smiles kindly at him, his teeth showing behind those glossed lips. “Hi, Geno.” he calls in his deep yet sweet-sounding voice. It didn’t sound flirtatious or seductive, which is normally how he talked to his clients, with the bartender, he always sounded genuine and pleasantly happy to see him serving drinks to him and his friends.

Geno nervously smiled back. “H-Hey, Sid,” he replies, silently curing himself for stammering in front of a prostitute who he may or may not have a big crush on. “Flower, Segway, Mitch,” he also greeted, who were all looking at him before he grabbed Sid’s attention. He began setting down the cocktails, wine, and beer. “Here are usual orders.”

The three other men accepted their drinks: a margarita, a beer, and a glass of white wine, respectively.

Still smiling, Sid happily accepted his cosmopolitan, plucking a strawberry off the skewer that was resting atop the martini glass. “Thanks, G,” he says before popping the mini strawberry into his mouth. “I know everyone has their favorite bartenders, but I still say you make the best cocktails.”

Hearing that from Sid (and watching him eat a simple piece of fruit) was enough to bring a blush and a dumbstruck smile to Geno’s face. “H-Heh…Thanks, Sid.”

Sid nods, eyes shining with a glint of something as he takes a sip of his cocktail.

It was a small moment or two of awkward (on the bartender’s part at least) silence before he coughed. “I, uhm, I’m best get back to work, so…bye.” With that, he quickly flees back to the bar.

(As he did so, he heard the soft giggles coming from Sid, but he failed to see him lightly admonish his friends as they smirked at the obvious crush the bartender had.)

After that little incident, Geno spent the rest of the night catering to any other patron that walked up and asked for— or sloppily demanded— drinks. Whenever he had a spare moment or two, he would glance up at table eight, watching the small group of friends chatting, laughing, and attempting to flirt with some of the other patrons that would stop by their table.

Part of Geno’s heart crumbled whenever he saw Sid respond to some of the men’s flirtatious mannerisms, whether it be throwing out seductive words, or a teasing touch, or even a tickle of breath or the faint press of lips.

He knows Sid isn’t tied down to someone. Why would he, the man was a prostitute after all. But that didn’t mean watching him act like that with others didn’t hurt.

From the moment he first met Sid, back when they were teenagers to young adults and Geno had just started working at the Emperor Nightclub, he always harbored secretly feelings for the young Canadian. He remembered the first time he ever plucked up the courage to speak to him and slide him a cocktail: one of his first attempts at a watermelon cooler, too easy of a drink to mess up on.

It was a bit strong on the booze and not fruity enough, but Sid didn’t tell him that. He just smiled and thanked him in a voice that oozed sensuality and charm, throwing in a wink for good measure. When he saw how awkwardly the bartender responded to it— by stammering and not completely picking up the subtle cue— he dropped the act, apologizing for making him feel awkward. To which Geno has to apologize as well, because he didn’t meant to make the moment awkward, he just wasn’t good at responding to someone who was cute like him.

That made Sid pause and blush, looking away from the bartender for a split second before gazing back up at him, a gentle smile on his face. This caused Geno to smile back, the both of them feeling a bit more relaxed than before. When the awkwardness of it all faded away, the two of them began to chat during the bartender’s break, or whenever he would get a breather from serving. In those small conversations, he realized that the flirty prostitute was actually…very dorky.

A dorky man who had a passion for history, craved mozzarella sticks and cheesecake, and had a strong affinity for sports just like he once did. And he had the goofiest laugh Geno had ever heard and thought it adorable. Seeing this, Sid’s true colors was what made him slowly start to fall in love.

But deep down, he knew that Sid would never feel the same about him. To him, it was fairly certain that he would get rejected upon confessing his feelings. So, in every encounter the two had after that, Geno would simply swallow his feelings and allowed Sid to flirt and be affectionate with other men that weren’t him.

They were just friends, nothing more.

(Although he can’t help but secretly wish for that to change one day).

Geno sighed sadly and began to untie his apron, ready to go into the staff room and change back into his regular clothes when Tanger tapped him on the shoulder. He looked over at him, ready to tie his apron back on, when he sees him pointing to the stairs near the back of the nightclub.

Coming down the stairs was owner Mario Lemieux.

He turned back to Tanger, brow raised. “So? He does that a lot.”

“Yeah he makes his rounds like he usually does, but does he ever personally come to us for anything? Usually it’s Jen that does it for him.” Tanger points out as they see Mario making his way over to the bar areas.

Geno hummed. He had a fair point, usually it was Jen, Mario’s personal assistant, that went and searched for them whenever he needed to have a conversation with them. In any other instance, the bartender would not hesitate to flee whenever he could, but she would usually find him in the end.

But Mario himself coming out to talk to one— or maybe all of them— was highly unusual.

It was even more unusual when he realizes that Mario coming towards him. He didn’t know whether he should run, or accept whatever was going to be handed to him.

Still tying his apron back on just in case, he meets Mario halfway: near the dance floor but not that far from the tables.

“Ah, Geno,” he says as the bartender comes up to him. “I was just coming to talk to you.”

“Need me to stay extra hours?” he asked, seconds away from letting out a tired sigh. He doesn’t like the idea of staying later than 1 or 2 AM on most days, but if the boss says so, he’ll make an exception.

“No, actually,” Mario shakes head making Geno confused. “I wanted to give you something.” He hands the bartender an envelope.

Taking it, Geno still looked confused as to what it was until he opened it, then his eyes widened in shock.

“Boss, are you— Are you serious?!” he exclaimed as he looked between the envelope in his hand, then back at Mario.

“It’s just little bonus, if you will, for being one of my best workers.”

“This more than bonus and you know it!”

Mario placated him by resting a hand on his shoulder. “As I said, you deserve it,” he reassured. “I know it’s more than what you normally make, and more than the other bonuses I give, but there’s nothing wrong with giving a little bit more to hard workers like you.”

Geno gazed back down at the envelope. Inside was a bonus check of over $10,000.

“But—”

“No buts.” Mario tells him seriously. “I mean it. You’ve been very dedicated to your work from the beginning, even if you were completely new to it. But you quickly improved over time and became a favorite amongst The Emperor’s patrons. It’s not hard to see why, Geno. So, go on, take the extra bonus. Do whatever you want with it, a gift from me to you.”

With that, he gave the bartender a pat on the back before heading back upstairs to his office.

The whole time, Geno’s eyes never left the check.

It was a large amount of money. In fact, it was double than what he normally makes for a bonus: $5000 at most, but if his boss said that he deserved it…well, who was he to deny himself a paycheck like this.

Finally, his eyes left the large sum of money, trailing back to the beautiful prostitute that was still sitting at table eight.

Maybe…maybe his chance had finally come. He may not be able to have a proper relationship with Sid, but he could at least spend one magical night with him, for however long he could make it.

He didn’t know what Sid charged for his services, but he hoped ten thousand dollars was enough to satisfy him (he was sure that it was, he was just being really nervous about confronting him).

Gulping, the bartender slowly— and anxiously— makes his way back to table eight. Along the way, he tries to remember all of the fancy restaurants that are in Pittsburgh, and there are quiet a number of them within the city and the surrounding area.

There was the Altius that has an amazing view of the city… the Monterey Bay Fish Grotto is one of the most famous restaurants… LeMont has been around for decades and is still highly regarded… most of the locals would know about the Grand Concourse… since he liked boats, one of the Gateway Clipper’s Dining Cruises would be nice…

Maybe the Hyeholde since it almost be like dining at a castle… the Carlton has a lot of national recognition… Bravo! Italian Kitchen has a good menu and they do have creme brûlée...

Or…he may just happen to like the Cheesecake Factory instead.

Before he could even make a final decision on what he was going to say, he was standing right in front of Sid (or behind, since his back was turned to him). Luckily for him, his other friends were either out on the dance floor or chatting up the other bartenders; maybe they were in the back lounges, but Geno doesn’t really care, he needed to focus on his main objective right now: gaining Sid’s attention, even if it was for one night.

Reaching a hand out, he hesitates for a split second before he decides to gently tap Sid on the shoulders.

The prostitute turned around to see who was standing behind him again, smiling when he realized who it was. “Hey, G. What’s up?” he asks curiously while he licks something sticky off his fingers.

Geno stared for a hot minute before quickly snapping out of it. “U-Uhm—!” He blushed and scratched the back of his head. “I-I want you to know that Mario gave me big bonus just now…”

Sid smiled wider at that. “That’s great, G! How much of a bonus was it? The usual 5k?”

He shook his head, looking away shyly. “No…gave me double that.”

Brown eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Wait. He gave you $10,000?!”

Geno nodded, showing him the envelop with the check in it. “Yeah, and uhm…was wondering if…” He blushed darker, still keeping his eyes away from Sid.

The prostitute was looking at him with concern now. “If uhm…You want to spend a night with me…?”

Sid stayed silent for the longest time, staring blankly at the bartender as he processed what he just asked him. “Geno, are you— Are you asking me to…service you?”

“Yes. I mean, no! Argh!” The bartender shook his head, feeling more embarrassed and stupid now. “What I’m mean is…I take you to fancy restaurant, maybe do shopping, and…” The blush on his face grew darker. “I-If you wanted, we can go to hotel and… you serve me.”

A blush now came to the prostitute’s face. “O-Oh…”

Geno makes a flustered noise, still not looking Sid.

“I don’t— I-I don’t charge that much for a night's service, Geno,’ he tells the bartender with a shy voice. “Y-You can’t spend 10 grand on me in one night…”

“I-I’m know,” he nods. “But I’m try.”

Sid’s blush grew darker as he now looked away from the bartender. Neither one of them really knew what to say after that, the moment growing tenser and more awkward by the second.

Eventually, the prostitute was the one to speak first. “E-Even if you can’t spend all that money on me…it’d be nice to spend a night with you.”

Geno’s head snaps back to Sid, his own dark brown eyes widened at what he said. “R-Really?”

A small smile came to the prostitute’s face as he nodded. “Yeah,” he admits shyly, now looking back at the bartender. “I really do.”

He’s never admitted this to him, but he’s had a crush on Geno for a very long time now, ever since they met as teenagers in this very nightclub. He always thought the bartender would never want to be in a relationship with him because of what he does, but after hearing what he just said to him, he might actually have a chance to see if they would really work out.

“Uhm, great!” Geno exclaims with a grin.

Sid smiles a little more. “Did you have a particular restaurant in mind?”

The bartender pondered on the choices he thought about earlier before finally making a decision. “Altius?” he asks. “Is on Grandview Avenue and have good view of skyline.”

“Sounds great,” Sid nods in approval. “Maybe we could stop by the Cheesecake Factory afterwards. I haven’t had any in a long time and I’m overdue for a craving.”

“I figure you say that,” Geno chuckled. “Had that in back of mind in case you say no.”

An embarrassed giggle managed to escape the prostitute’s lips. “I guess I make my love of cheesecake very obvious, eh?”

“You do, but is okay,” Geno reassures. “I like that about you.”

Another giggle, this time, one that was more airy and a little bit giddy-sounding. “So, when did you want to do this? Tomorrow night?”

“We can do that,” he nods. “I take night off.”

“Are you Mario would allow that?” Sid raises a teasing brow at him. “I mean, he did just give you a big bonus. He may change his mind when he hears you taking a day off.”

Geno waved at him nonchalantly. “Eh. He not mind.” he tells him. “Besides, be nice to get away from club for one night. And I spending night with you, so is good reason.” He lightly smirked at him.

Sid’s blush couldn’t get any redder, but it manages to with the bartender’s words. Just then a waiter came by and served him another drink, this time, a vibrant sunrise cocktail.

He takes the drink with a nod and a slight smirk before the waiter walks away. He takes a sip before turning back to Geno, his smirk growing in seductiveness. “So,” he starts before licking his lips, a little cayenne salt sticking to them. “Will I be seeing you tomorrow night?”

The bartender gulped and managed to nod, trying to keep his dirty thoughts at bay. “Yeah…see you tomorrow night.”

#SidGeno #Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin #otp: we grew up together here #hockey rpf #my hockey fanfiction #mpreg tw #The Price of Love

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sunbird-tells-stories · 4 years

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Some dumb Team Spicer OT3 headcanons no one wants to hear but I’m gonna say them anyways:

Jack has a thing with personal space and doesn’t like being touched by pretty much anyone and hates physical contact as a whole, except for maybe hugs from Mom. However, he’s severely touch-starved and the more he falls for Jermaine and Timber, the more he not only allows for physical contact from both of them, but he initiates it too. Sitting closer to them, leaning on their shoulder, that sort of thing.

Eventually when they do become a thing he then becomes this barnacle that is always hugging or leaning or lounging on one of them at all times. They’re his safe space and he shows it by being close to them.

I’m still debating on whether Timber’s short hair becomes a permanent look, but I like to think that if it becomes long again, Jack has a habit of playing with it and petting it because it’s so soft and fluffy. And because it’s Jack, Timber let’s him.

Since one is a martial artist and the other is a wilderness nut,Jermaine and Timber are both pretty physically strong. And Jack 👏 is 👏 here 👏 for 👏 it 👏 He’s into physical strength.

Before Xiaolin training Jack is pretty wimpy and nowhere near as physically fit as he should be because he spends most of his time building robots in a lab. Since he’s so slow and kind of a load in an emergency, Timber often just picks him up and carries him. He pretends to hate it and won’t stop complaining when she does it, but he actually kind of likes being carried around like that. He’s always lowkey impressed by it.

He has tried or will try carrying her just to get back at her and it never ends well.

Jermaine is the strongest of Team Spicer and can carry both of his partners. However since he’s also the shortest member he rarely does it because it’s way too easy to lose balance.

Timber never really played any sport except hockey because...well, because Canada (and also no friends), but I like to think that Jermaine teaches her how to play basketball and she just loves it. She likes playing it and when he finally takes her to a game she likes watching it too. Jermaine loves the way it brings out her competitive spirit and her sense of wonder as a whole.

Jermaine’s favorite things about Timber are her enthusiasm, her curiosity, her creativity, her ability to stand on her own two feet, her outspokenness, her wild nature (pun intended), her wilderness skills, her thirst for adventure and knowledge and her smile.

His favorite things about Jack are his innovative nature, his feistiness, his intelligence, his competitiveness, the cute and silly faces he makes when he’s sketching out new blueprints for one of his inventions, his eyes, his awkward and adorkable moments, his defiant nature and the way he just doesn’t quit no matter what life throws at him.

Jermaine also likes Timber’s laugh and Jack’s smile. Neither of them are prone to laughing or smiling and as they grow closer Jermaine makes a point to try to get each one to do both. He genuinely wants to see these two disasters realize how beautiful and amazing and incredible they really are.

Slight spoilers but Jermaine ends up suffering from nightmares after the events of MW! due to reasons I won’t go into. He’s alright but healing is a slow process and it takes time to get over trauma, and the nightmares are intense and leave him in a cold sweat and make it hard for him to get some rest. The only way he feels safe enough to go back to sleep is if he’s with Jack and Timber. So for a long time after the fic, the three have nightly sleepovers so Jermaine can actually get some sleep. He wakes up, freaks out, talks it out with them, sometimes Timber makes him some tea with her super potent lavender and chamomile flowers and after they just all fall back asleep.

Jack is the first to catch Feelings. Next is Timber. Jermaine, for all his virtues, is incredibly thick and can’t seem to understand that both of the people in his party are crushing on him pretty hard. Sadly it’s because he doesn’t really think he’s good enough for anyone to like him.

In this universe, Jack and Jermaine are both bi, but only Jack is aware of his own orientation. Jermaine is not. At least, not for long.

Jack’s color motif is mostly black, Timber’s color motif is mostly blue and Jermaine’s is mostly red with yellow accents. Why?

They’re the colors of the poly flag :)

Spoiler but once they start dating, everyone’s in a tizzy about it. But hands down the person who is most shocked and/or disturbed by this turn of events is...Chase Young. Despite the fact that he used the boy as a pawn in a scheme, he did get somewhat attached to Jermaine. He was after all a good student and Chase is honorable enough to respect legit talent and effort. The moment he hears that his talented former Apprentice is dating both the student of his oldest rival AND Jack freaking Spicer, he goes through all five stages of grief before running straight to the Xiaolin Temple, finding Jermaine and telling him “I’m sorry for your loss”.

As you can imagine, Jermaine isn’t pleased.

You better believe I have an entire YouTube playlist dedicated to this ship, but this one in particular, and this particular mix made for this AMV, is definitely one of my favorite songs for their ship. https://youtu.be/SYcODDcNSIk

youtube

Timber’s family is dysfunctional and abusive, and Jack’s family is distant and neglectful, if well intentioned. So I like to think they both find a healthy family dynamic in Jermaine’s mom, grandmother and older sister.

They try to keep their relationship a secret from anyone outside the Temple, but eventually their families find out. Jermaine’s family is very supportive, but you better believe Ivory grilled Jack and Timber pretty hard once she realized these two idiots were in a relationship with her baby brother. But eventually they do have a supportive dynamic with each other (with Timber slightly more successful than Jack on the grounds that Jack is a show off and Ivory doesn’t like show offs).

Jack’s Dad is shocked and doesn’t really know how to handle it but since Jack is genuinely happy for once in his life he’s got no beef and just quietly lets them be - with one exception. Jack’s Dad is relatively famous and in the news all the time, so he’s used to being paparazzi fodder and having tabloids spin stuff on him. But the moment they try to belittle Jack for his relationship with his partners, Jason puts an end to it. IMMEDIATELY. Jason may not understand his son, but he will always love him.

Jack’s mom is devastated, but not because he’s poly - it’s because as a hardcore supporter of Jack getting married and giving her lots of grandkids to spoil (she’s that kind of mom), she’s been budgeting his future wedding for years, LITERAL YEARS, so that the moment he finds The One, they can get hitched with no fuss. And now suddenly she has to budget for a whole other person. One and a half decades of planning RUINED.

Timber’s mom and step-dad.....even I’m not sure. But Kallik and Hanta still care about their sister, even if they’re terrible at showing it. And once they get wind of what’s happening, Timber’s brothers get overprotective and overstep their boundaries in an effort to drive off these “playboys” from toying with their sister’s heart. That is, until Timber puts them in their place.

I like to think that Kallik and Hanta eventually do find a way get along with Jack and Jermaine, if only for the fact they can watch over Timber when they can’t....but it’s a slow process. After all, they’re still working on repairing their relationship with their sister.

Poly families exist in real life (and happily so depending on the family) so maybe when the members of Team Spicer are all grownups and are at a good age to start a family, they get married and have kids? I dunno. It’s a hypothetical situation for now since the whole “Xiaolin Dragon” thing is more or less a lifelong deal and that would get in the way of raising kids. But I like to think that if they do have kids, they have a boy named Jake who raises a lot of Hell (like his birth Dad), and a girl named Jazmine who likes to kick evil’s butt (like her birth Dad).

Slightly spoilery but our Team each end up with an army of their own - Jack has his robots, Timber has her plants and Jermaine has loyal jungle cat soldiers. So if they did have kids, those would hands down be the most well protected kids on the face of the earth. Also maybe the most...interesting, since being raised with killer robots, killer plants and dangerous animals might make for some unnaturally fearless kids.

Jermaine is the glue that holds them all together. Jack and Timber come to love each other dearly but Jermaine is so influential to the both of them that neither one can imagine life without him.

Same with Jermaine and both of them. Timber and Jack are both crazy, they’re both stubborn, they’re both unpredictable, they cause trouble and break rules and he never knows what they’re gonna do next - and he loves that about them.

You know that person in the relationship that steals the other person’s hoodies to wear them? That’s Jack. And he doesn’t even say sorry.

Jack likes to flirt and tease Jermaine and Timber but when either of them reciprocate he gets all flustered and tsundere.

Jack and Timber both have jealousy issues but neither of them compare to Jermaine’s. He gets majorly angry when someone flirts with or gets too close to either of them - he just hides it well and is smart enough to know that Jack/Timber weren’t asking for it.

Jermaine is very protective and sometimes even overprotective. It’s an issue he’s gonna need to let go of.

Jermaine is pretty short for a boy and Timber is very tall for a girl. Jermaine doesn’t have issues about it, Timber does...but if anyone insults either of them, Jack throws hands. Like seriously he will fight you if you make a nasty comment about their height.

You see these three often chilling with each other because they are each other’s safe space.

Because they fell in love with each other while traveling the world, their idea of a date together is grabbing the Tiger Claws, warping to a random location and exploring it together. It’s a tradition they keep up even as they get older.

They genuinely love and care for each other very, very much.

That’s all for now but I have more headcanons for these guys. Trust me.

#team spicer ot3 #the good the bad and the wilde #jack x jermaine x timber #Jack x Jermaine #jermaine x timber #Jack x Timber #Youtube

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