#cos they thought i was naming him after seasons

[sagechanoafterdark]

Shoot Your Shot, Cupid

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader Word Count: 3,770 Warnings: mature language, unbeata'd, soft Bucky, lets assume Sam set him up for this one, female coded reader, happy ending because we all deserve it, TIME SKIIIIIP, best friend with good intentions that shows up for one job and then disappears, speed dating, one obnoxious man, all the soft feelings.

Hello Kittens, and Happy Valentine's Day. It's been a while since I wrote... well anything and I was working on this for a couple of months but I think it's come all together now. Hope you enjoy it!

This couldn’t get much worse.

Tricked by your best friend.

Nay, betrayed.  

By someone you implicitly trusted.

There would be no forgiving this.

Never, not ever.

The dinner and drinks invitation a few days before the start of February was met with trepidation on your part. All Christmas season you’d feigned interest as Mellony, your best friend, thrust every single co-worker, neighbor, and wait staff at you to find you someone to share the holiday with.

You couldn’t blame her. After all, Mellony was blissfully happy with her fiancée and only wanted the same for you.

All that you could forgive.

But this?

This was a complete and utter betrayal.

A deep and unimpressed frown marred your face as Mellony took the sticky name tag off the table with her perfectly manicured nails. Peeling the back with an ear-to-ear grin and pressed it against your chest. “There,” she exclaimed with joy, lacing her fingers together. “Now you’re all set.”

Looking down at the beautifully scrawled letters framed by little hearts you couldn’t help but curl your lip and whine, “Mel, you promised.”

The blond snorted and rolled her enormous puppy dog eyes, “I never promised anything.” Looping her arm through yours she practically began to drag you through the convention center doors and past the sign that sealed your fate.

Cupids Bow Speed Dating Event.

“Yes, you did,” you reaffirmed. Glancing around the room packed full of men and women in a combination of sweaters, suits, and cocktail dresses. “You promised not to try and set me up with anyone again.”

“This is my speed dating event. It doesn’t count.”

“I can assure you it does.”

“Nooooo,” she practically sang, turning around on her heel with that adorable mischievous smile of hers. “I promised that I wouldn’t set you up with anyone I knew. Everyone here was vetted by my team. I don't know any of these people.”

Grumbling she began tugging you towards the stage as intro music began to play softly from the DJ booth. Mellony paused, gripping your hand tight and looking down at you as the DJ introduced her, “Please, stay? I just want you to find someone.”

“Mel,” you hissed with disapproval. “I don’t need to find someone.”

Whether or not she heard you was unclear as the music swelled and Mellony put on her famous razzle dazzle smile and waved at everyone as she took the microphone and the presentation began. Your eyes swung to the crowd of people, more than three dozen people silhouetted against the stage lights and it made you shiver.

This was going to be a disaster.

Twenty minutes later your mind was glazed over with the audacity of men.

With every new ding of the bell, you found yourself becoming more annoyed. The match-making event progressed easily. People were divided into groups based on results from a questionnaire, something you distinctly remember Mel presenting to you as a fun Cosmo quiz, while one group remained seated the others rotated around the room.

By some stroke of luck, you were one of the people destined to sit. But that also meant that total strangers would be coming to your table to chat with you.

In all your years of singledom,  you’d thought you’d heard it all. Too fat. Too loud. Too smart. Too opinionated. Those were old hat by now, and you weren’t immune to the bitter words from unimportant people.

“I suppose you’re an attractive woman,” the suit across from you said thoughtfully. His eyes never met yours, instead looking around the room likely for the next victim of his charm. “But I’m not really into your hair color. How would you feel about dying it?”

The question hung in the air as you waited for the man to look back at you. When his beady eyes returned to your face you couldn’t hide the disbelief, waving your hand in the air with an icy finality, “Absolutely not. You can go.”

He didn’t wait. Standing so quickly the chair scraped against the floor as he haughtily walked towards the bar. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you pulled out your phone and began to scroll social media waiting for the next bell in fifteen minutes.

Not the wildest thing you’d ever heard, but the gall of some people astounded even you sometimes. This also wasn’t the first event you’d been to that Mel had put on, you’d come to one or two as she’d begun her match-making service so you knew the ins and outs pretty well. But getting the same questions over and over was getting old fast.

What do you do for a living?

Where are you from?

What’s your family like?

What’s your perfect date idea?

BOR-ING!

Just once you’d like someone to ask you a real question, something thoughtful instead of the surface questions you’d find on social media.

You couldn’t believe you wore your favorite dress for this nonsense.

The bell dinged once again and the shadow of a new man sat in front of you.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” you said not looking up from the device in your hand.

“Come here often?”

“To a dating event? No,” the words were flowing out of your mouth easily. Canned responses for canned questions.

There was a heavy pause, “You seem bored.”

“That’s because I am.”

A muted scoff came from the other side of the table, “What would make it more interesting then?”

A long sigh escaped you as you continued scrolling on your phone, “If someone would ask me a question of substance, maybe I would give them a chance for conversation.”

Again a long stretching silence from the other side and you had to resist rolling your eyes.

“Alright,” he rumbled, leaning back against his chair. “Then what’s one gift you always wish you’d gotten, but never did?”

That had your thumb pausing on the endless scrolling you were doing. Finally, your gaze flicked up and your brain stopped working for a brief moment as you took in the disgustingly attractive man sitting your opposite.

Coffee color hair, and a chiseled jaw dotted with a five o’clock shadow would be enough to make even the most choosy of a woman’s breath catch. He was wearing a bulky leather jacket in a building that was pushing 80 degrees, which was odd but not overly strange.

But oddly enough you felt yourself getting drawn in. Not by his cheekbones, the cut of his jaw, the dimple in his chin, or even the semi-scowl he wore.

No, it was his eyes. Bright blue soulful eyes, that sparkled a little as he sat across the table from you. Eyes that told a story all their own and drew you out of your scrolling for the first time that night.

Pursing your lips slightly you thought, “Hmm, I’d have to say it’s a puppy.”

His eyebrow arched slightly, clearly surprised by your answer, “A puppy?”

“Sure,” you said with a slight shrug. “A puppy is something I’ve always wanted but never gotten as a gift from anyone other than myself.”

“What kind of puppy?”

“Oh I don’t have a preferred breed,” you informed, tilting your head a little at the odd conversation. “But as a child, it was what I asked for every year as a present. But I never got one.”

His lips turned up in a half smile and you thought you were going to melt in your seat, “Asking for one every year and not getting one, sounds a little disappointing. Was that just a Christmas thing?”

“Nah,” you laughed a little, fingers picking at a little piece of lint on the edge of your dress. “Christmas, birthdays, Easter didn’t matter. If gifts were being given, it was at the top of my list. Every year I’d be running to the tree and picking up presents, looking for one big enough. It’s a running joke with my friends that I’d marry the first man to give me a puppy for Christmas.”

A brisk laugh escaped him, his lips pulled into a charming smile that had nervous butterflies leap up in your chest. “A puppy for Christmas,” he rumbled thoughtfully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

The response made goosebumps prickle along your skin and you held back a shiver, wetting your suddenly dry lips, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s a gift you always wanted but didn’t get,” you paused briefly a coy smile stretching your lips.

His smile turned into a smirk as he once again leaned back in his chair, blue eyes darting back and forth over your face as he thought about it. It was going well, your impish smile growing along with his own. That is until his smile began to fall, bright blue gaze darting a little more frantically over your face before he licked his lips and an unexpected tremor sounded in his voice, “I think, I think it was a sled.”

“A sled,” you asked, leaning forward a little in intrigue. “Like a big plastic one with the handles? Oh no, I got it you’re definitely an inflatable snow tube kind of guy.”

A balk of laughter sounded from him, making hidden laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes as they brightened with your playful banter. “Nah,” he exclaimed, waving a hand. “More like a wood and metal one. It had bright red skis and a wooden seat top. That sled was all I wanted as a kid.”

An amused giggle slipped from you, “I had a wagon kind of like that as a kid, it was a radio flyer.”

His fingers snapped as he pointed at you with a little bit of excitement, “That’s it! A Radio Flyer sled, with a rope handle and foot steering bar. Though I don’t think I’d ever get one now. I’m a little too old to go sledding down a hill.”

“Age is all about perspective.”

He snorted, “Tell that to my driver's license.”

Genuine laughter bubbled up from inside of you as you leaned forward in your seat, a teasing retort on your lips. Before you could speak, Mellony rang her little handbell and people began to switch places again. But your blue-eyed stranger lingered at your table.

“Talk to you again?”

He sounded, hopeful. “Yeah,” you croaked out pathetically. “Talk to you again.”

You watched as he stood from your table and made his way across the room to his next table while another man took his place at your own. A feeling of disappointment swelled as you lost sight of him in the crowd of people, the feeling intensifying as this new man briefly introduced themselves before launching into a long Tinder-level introduction.

Two more men sat at your table, barely holding your interest outside of normal pleasantries before Mel rang her handbell in rapid succession. “Alright everyone that’s the first round,” she called from her place at the podium. “We’re going to break for thirty minutes. There are hors d'oeuvres and refreshments at the bar. Please feel free to mingle!”

The room of people began to stand and mill around as an uproar of chatter began. Your eyes picked out a couple of men from your group, pairing up with others and heading to the bar. Cordial smiles turned into pleasant touches and sweetheart eyes as they went.

The Cupids Bow Dating Event was a success and you couldn’t help but feel the swell of pride for your friend.

“Hey, Sourpuss,” Melody greeted, looping her arm through yours. “You having fun yet?”

Your mind drifted back to your blue-eyed stranger, “A little.”

“Well, I don’t know if you know this. But the point of speed dating is to, you know, find a date. I was watching you, and you gotta talk to more than one person,” she sassed.

Your mouth turned down to a frown for a brief moment, “I talked to someone.”

“Oh yeah? What was his name.”

Your mouth opened and closed a couple of times as you realized quickly you’d never even got Mr. Blue-Eyes name, “Shit.”

“What?”

“I didn’t even get Mr. Blue-Eyes name!”

“It’s Bucky.”

Turning around there stood Mr. Blue-Eyes himself, err… you meant Bucky. There was no doubt your embarrassment showed on your face, but the little nervous laugh that slipped out sealed the deal.

Bucky smiled at you, “That is if it’s me you were talking about?”

Wetting your lips you shifted, suddenly nervous before meeting friendly blue eyes, “Yeah,” you squeaked before clearing your throat. “I mean, yes. I’m sorry I missed your name when we talked.”

He was nodding for a brief moment, his eyes darting over towards the bar before taking a few steps closer to you and leaning down. “There’s a restaurant down the street. They’ve got pretty good sushi. You want to get the hell out of here?”

“Oh, my god yes!” The tips of your ears felt hot as you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole but Bucky didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment. Instead, he offered up his right arm and you looped yours into it without hesitation.

Melody’s brow shot up out of surprise, “B-but that was only the first round! There are still two more.”

“I don’t think we need a round two,” Bucky said, the same charming smile pulling at the corner of his mouth and making his eyes crinkle.

“Yeah,” you laughed, in a teasing tone. “This round just might go to Cupid after all.”

Three years later.

Lights twinkled in the living room of your apartment, it was god awful early and you’d carefully planned today. Christmas day and you’d been waiting for this moment for two years now. Quickly and quietly you snuck out of the bedroom where Bucky lay wrapped up in the blankets and made your way to the front closet.

It was hard being sneaky when your boyfriend was a super spy. But after a lot of careful planning, misdirections, and a lot of help from Sam, you’d managed to do it and Bucky was none the wiser.

Tiptoeing towards the hall closet that Bucky never used you opened the squeaky hinged door in just the way so it made no noise. Reaching blindly into the black of the closet you felt around, past the dozen unused coats, jackets, scarves, and hats your hand met the back of the closet wall. Sliding quietly until your fingers brushed the cold metal you were looking for.

Jackpot.

Fingers wrapped around your prize as you gave a firm but gentle tug. A pristine, adult-sized, bright red and creamy wood seat Flex Flyer sled emerged complete with an enormous red bow.

Stifling a giggle you set it down.

“What are you doing?”

A shriek tore out of your throat as you jumped what felt like twenty feet in the air.

“James Barnes,” you scolded, heart beating a million miles an hour. “What have I said about sneaking up on me?”

“You were being sneaky first,” he said, brows drawn together as he tried to look around you. “What you hiding doll face?”

“Nothing!” You lied, spreading your arms and legs to hide your surprise gift.

It was at that moment you heard the vibration from Bucky’s phone clutched in his hand, the man tried to not look sheepish as he not so covertly pressed the silence button.

Suspicion immediately filled you, “Bucky? What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” He shot back, his brow knits in suspicion.

It was a standoff.

The two of you staring each other down in the dark of the hallway in your matching Christmas pajamas. Someone knocking on the front door startled you both before Bucky cursed under his breath, pointing at you, “Don’t follow me.”

His instruction surprised you as he brushed past you in the small hallway. You scoffed under your breath, “You’re in your PJ’s Buck, how far are you going?”

Bucky paused before going around the corner, “I mean it.” There was another soft but hurried knock and he cursed before disappearing.

A tisk of disapproval escaped you, but urgency filled your movements the second he was out of sight. Hands shaking slightly you hurried, pulling the sled out from the closet with as much silence as you could muster before dashing the Christmas tree. Stuffing the sled behind the tree, a few bulbs swinging back and forth as you fumbled to fluff the crumpled bow on Bucky’s surprise.

A cacophony of hushed grumbles and whispers came from the front door, you could have sworn you heard Sam as the door closed with a thunk and the lock turned. In a matter of seconds Bucky was coming around the corner again, an enormous gold box gripped in his hands affixed with a brilliant glittering green bow.

It was clear that Bucky didn’t see you immediately as he juggled the wobbly box and tried to remain quiet as he did so.

“Whatcha, got there?”

Bucky startled, socked feet skidding to a halt just at the corner of the couch as the box wobbled in his hands again. Frustrated and accusatory blue eyes narrowed, “What are you doing in here?” He asked in a hushed whisper.

“What are you doing in here?”

“You better not be shaking presents.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “I’ll have you know I haven’t shaken a present since I was ten. What’s in the box, Jamie?”

Bucky flinched a little, his one weakness was when you called him Jamie. His shoulders sagged a little as his grip on the box tightened, “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Oh I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. The mantle clock began to ding for the early morning hour. Five AM came so early now. “Do you want to open our gifts now?”

Bucky pursed his lips, body jerking as the box tried to throw itself from his hands. “I think now is best.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the prospect of what the box could contain. But your eyes flitted over to the space behind the tree where you’d stuffed Bucky’s surprise and the anxious feeling grew tenfold as you thought about the question you were going to ask him once he’d seen it.

Clearing his throat Bucky nodded towards the Christmas tree and the traditional present opening space. Dutifully you sat down in the chair, eyes darting over behind the tree to where your gift sat. “Um, mine's not wrapped.”

“That’s alright,” he said, setting the box at your feet as it rattled all on its own now that it was on the floor. “Where is mine and we’ll do them on the count of three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers tapping the edges of your box. “Yours is behind the tree.”

You saw his eyes dart over to the tree and then back down to you, “On three.”

“Alright,” you agreed, fingers poised to rip at the bow on top of the gift. “One.”

“Two,” Bucky echoed, taking a step closer to the tree.

“Three!”

Your fingers began tearing at the bow on top of the gift box as it rattled against the floor. Pushing back the loose gold paper and terrible tape job before, POP!

Two of the most adorable brown eyes you’d ever seen stared up at you. You were stunned for a moment, staring down at the cutest little paws and wet nose you’d ever laid your eyes on.

“OHMYGODAPUPPY!!”

The shrieking sob spilled past your lips as you pulled the squirming pup into your arms, its tiny tongue licking and sniffing all over your face and mouth. Tears spilled from your eyes as the little bundle in your arms wiggled, squirmed, and kissed your face everywhere; its bottom wiggling so much they tumbled out of your arms and into your lap.

“Oh my god,” you blubbered, holding the precious little one to you. “Bucky! He’s so cute. Oh, it’s a she. She’s so cute, James. Oh god! Oh my god, I love her so much. I can't—I can’t believe this! This is real right? Do I get to keep her? Bucky?”

Looking up Bucky was angled away from you, the lights of the Christmas tree gleaming off of his arm as he held onto his new sled. His fingers found the tag as he stared at it in the dim lighting. 

He sniffled briefly before he began to read, “Roses are red, violets are blue, do me the—the honor—the honor of spending my life with you?”

Teary blue eyes turned towards you as you held the squirming puppy in your arms. “Doll,” he squeaked out with a sniffle as a few tears began to slip. “You…”

Looking up at him from your seat you reached into the side table drawer pulled out a distinctive black ring box and opened it. Inside, a single simple gold band that had Bucky’s breath catching.

“Will you,” you croaked out, clearing your throat a little more and juggling your new bundle of joy in your arms. “Will you marry me, James Buchanan Barns?”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he lowered the sled to the floor, and then himself. Bucky knelt before you, down on one knee, and reached forward towards the little puppy squirming in your arms. His fingers brushed against a tiny piece of string attached to the bow, you’d missed it but he lifted the dangling object for your inspection. A beautiful golden ring with what had to be the most enormous diamond you’d ever seen.

Your shocked watery gaze met Bucky’s impossibly blue eyes, “Only if you say yes too.”

The puppy leaped down from your lap, content to explore their new apartment as you slid down and onto Bucky’s lap. Arms wrapping around his shoulders and kissing him harder than you ever had before. Warmth blossomed in your chest as Bucky’s lips parted briefly with a light moan, kissing one another with dizzying urgency.

Gasping for air the two of you parted briefly, planting pecking kisses against one another lips.

“Is that a yes,” he husked, his hands sliding up and down your back.

“Yes, it’s a yes, Jamie.”

Grinning up at you, Bucky cradled you against him, “I didn’t know if you’d say yes.”

 “Of course I’d say yes,” you whispered, holding onto him tightly. “After all,  you did get me that puppy I’ve always wanted.”

A laugh escaped Bucky as he held you tightly and buried his face against your chest, his shoulders shaking in what could only be a relief, “Fuck, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blue-Eyes.”

END

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #mcu #TFWS #winter soldier #avengers #bucky barnes #marvel

[multifandomgirl08]

To Constantly Be Away [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Second race of the season and Max is already having a tough time with the car. Missing his family only makes it worse.

Warning(s): Fluff

A/N: I stayed up late watching qualifying and the race in Singapore while working on this, and took out my stress watching that on Mini Verstappen verse Max.

Words: 1.7k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It had been a bad weekend for Max, the car wasn’t running right with the new upgrades that had been added. They were starting P10 in the race. Y/N couldn’t fly to Jeddah with Nico because she was on call through the weekend. Everything was just going horribly wrong.

“Max!” He heard Christian call him over. “I know that you’re not in the best spirits right now, but I need to make sure that you’re okay.”

Christian did occasionally still check in with him before races, but given that Max hadn’t felt like this since before Daniel had left Red Bull. It felt nice that Christian could still pick up on those things after all this time.

“Call Y/N if you have to, find a way to talk to her or Nico.” Christian laid a hand on Max’s arm. “I know you’ll feel better for it once you have.”

Max tried to manage a smile but just gave him a stiff nod at the end.

Y/N had texted him when she got out of helping one of her co-workers with an issue one hour after he was already at the track for the race. She let him know that Nico had been sitting in front of the TV all afternoon waiting for the race to start before ordering an early dinner. In the photo that she sent, he could see her laptop open to her work email, Nico on his spot on the couch hugging one of the throw pillows. It had made some of Max's nerves go away but he still needed to talk to her at least for a few minutes.

He tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone, looking at the photo of her and Nico napping in his and Y/N’s bed. He let his phone unlock before pulling up his contacts and pressing on Y/N’s name. He stared at it for a few seconds before putting his phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” He heard her voice.

Max let his shoulders deflate, “Mijn leeuwin?” He stammered out.

“Hey Maxy,” She didn’t call him that often, only when she thought he really needed the comfort.

“Hi,” He weakly replied.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He choked out, trying to brush off the sound of concern in her voice. He didn’t want to make Y/N upset or let her know how horrible he was feeling about being in the car. There was nothing that she could do to make the car better for him to drive.

He didn’t want to be at the track without his family. It felt wrong. He knew that Nico and Y/N were watching at home, and were supporting him even if they couldn’t be there but he selfishly wanted them here.

He heard Y/N sigh over the phone, “Do you want to talk to Nico? He’s coloring in front of the TV.”

“No, it’s not that bad.” He let slip out. He didn’t want to alarm her about how he was feeling. Brad would be coming into his driver's room soon before the race and he just needed a few moments to collect himself.

“Can you tell me about him? Tell me what he’s doing.” He asked.

“Sure,” He didn’t know if she was doing anything for work at the moment. But he knew that if she was, she was putting it aside for a few moments to calm him down. He could imagine her sitting on the couch with the caramel cashmere Hermés blanket thrown over her legs that had been gifted to them after they had moved. He could feel some of the pain of his headache slowly seep away as Y/N talked about Nico seeing Christian on the TV asking when was the next time that he could see Grandpa and Grandma GG. Max couldn’t help the smile that broke out when remembering that Nico couldn’t pronounce Geri’s name. It always ended up sounding like Gewy. The more she talked the more Max felt like he was in the right headspace to get inside the car. 50 laps, media, and then once he got on the plane he would be on his way home to his family.

They had talked until Brad had come into Max’s room to help him get ready for the race. Max had begrudgingly said goodbye.

“I love you.” He heard from Y/N.

“Love you, Papa!” He heard Nico yell. “Good luck.”

“I love you too, both of you.” He said cradling the phone in his hand. “Be home soon.”

Max pulled the phone away from his ear, giving Brad a small nod. Ready to go out there and give the race his all.

As the race went on it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It wasn’t great, the major issues with the car seemed to go away after qualifying luckily. It was running closer to what he was used to. Even with those issues, he had somehow managed to finish P3. It felt like a miracle given how the weekend had been going.

He avoided the press as much as he could until he had to go for his post-race press conference and talk to the other journalists.

Everything felt so draining today. Normally he would talk to the team, and try to figure things out with GP about what went wrong earlier in the weekend but he just wanted to go home. He knew it was the thing that would set his head right.

Once his car got to the private airport, the next four hours passed by rather slowly. It was too quiet on the plane, Nico wasn’t bothering the stewardess on board about snacks, and Y/N wasn’t carding her fingers through his hair while she aimlessly checked her phone. He would normally end up taking a nap throughout the flight. She would wake him up slowly. He would start to grumble that she woke him up before her laugh would kick in. It was the best sound that he could hear after a long day on the track.

The drive from the airport was taking too long. Once he got to the house, he pulled into the garage. It took him almost no time to get his bag, lock his car, and make his way through the side door before walking into the living room.

Max quietly closed the door. Given how late it was Nico was probably asleep. Y/N would let him stay up to watch the race but once it was over, podium or not Y/N would have Nico get ready for bed.

He placed his keys in the bowl by the door, quietly walking through the house that was still covered in half-unpacked boxes. He went downstairs, walking by Nico's room to see the light turned off. Max opened the door, the hall light showing Nico's empty bed and missing pillow. That could only mean one thing...

He quietly walked towards the master bedroom, pushing open the door that was half closed. The moon casting a shadow over the bed, to see Y/N and Nico asleep under the covers, his side of the bed, open and waiting for him.

Nico normally wasn’t allowed to sleep in here with him and Y/N. Unless he had a nightmare, Nico would sleep in his own bed. She probably made an exception tonight because she didn’t know when his flight was going to get in.

He moved to the foot of the bed to take off his shoes.

"Max?" He heard as he slipped his shoes off. Then left them at the foot of the bed, making a mental note to put them away in the morning.

He turned his head to see Y/N barely awake, leaning against the pillows. Max shrugged off his jacket before walking over to her.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He was quick to kiss her forehead.

Over the last month since the wedding, Max had stopped questioning how Y/N fit into his life. The way that she could accept everything that was going on with his schedule and Nico. She took it all with so much grace. He never knew that someone could.

“Hey.” She muttered.

“I’ll change and then be in bed.” He watched her slightly nod until she laid her head back against the pillow. Nico turned over and moved to curl up next to her.

He was quick to remove his shirt and took off the skinny jeans that he was wearing, his socks getting stuck in the denim before throwing all of it into the laundry basket in the bathroom. His feet tapped against the cold tile, the transition of the wood doing nothing to warm his feet.

Max pulled back the sheets from his side of the bed being careful not to wake Nico. He took off his watch, put it on his nightstand, and then climbed under the black sheets of the bed. Max turned over towards his son and wife, pulling them in closer. All of the stress from the race seeping out of him, finally feeling like himself again.

Not Mad Max, not Super Max. Just Max.

Max closed his eyes, just letting himself lay there for a few moments. Taking in the quiet sound of the house, Nico sleeping next to him, Y/N within arms reach. He reached over, lightly stroking her cheek. He looked over meeting her eyes in the dark. He could see her lips form the question, "Are you okay?"

He nodded back brushing his thumb over her cheek again seeing her eyes flutter closed.

It blew Max away sometimes that this was his life. That by the age of 27 he had a wife and a child. The WDCs were nice and they were things that he was happy he had achieved, but this right here was what mattered to him most. The people that he got to come home to after stressful weekends and hard-fought victories. This was what was important to him.

Max settled further into his pillow ready to let sleep take him when he felt short hair brush over his arm. He opened one eye to see Nico had moved his head to rest against his shoulder. Max kissed the side of his son’s head, finally letting sleep take him.

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#mini verstappen series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 imagine #formula 1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #max verstappen x you

[ecoamerica]

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[flow33didontsmoke]

hi! i'm not sure if ur taking fic request atm, but if ever u r, can i ask for a fic where f!reader also works for the bau, she is hotch's daughter, and she is dating spencer reid? 🥹 thank uuuuu

hi there ! i’d write it with pleasure, tysm for your request. :) (reminder: english is not my first language so I might be wrong/get lost in naming stuff lmao. it’s also my first fic since quarantine.💀🙏)

“That’s kinda weird”; Three times getting noticed by Hotch + one where he gets confronted.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!f!Reader (playlist)

summary: see request

warnings/type: angst, fluff, mention of a sex life, mention children kidnapping, no mention of Y/n, can be read as gn reader, SFW, not proofread (my bad i’m season 2 and being fed with fanfictions), fear of changing and going forward, reader and Hotch are kinda distant

word count: 1.81k

taglist and asks open.

1. Facial communication

10:07am, Behavioral Analysis Unit, bullpen.

You were sat at your desk, not really far from Spencer, looking up at him from time to time. It’s not as if your relationship was that new but it was still blossoming. However you weren’t over those looks you could give the other, the tiny smile on the corner of your lips when you catch the other’s eyes, mostly when you can't help thinking about last night. Skin against skin, warmth against warmth, and that relaxed feeling when waking up in the morning after those activities. To be honest, it may never fade. Your co-workers would find it cute if they noticed or just laugh at it at first if they catch you at the beginning, but they would stop with time.

It’s been over two months you’re dating, and a year of knowing each other, when you joined the BAU. Somehow, even by being the unit chief's daughter you’ve never got the chance to meet him before, as you were always out or the nose in your studies. Surprising right ? But to your father’s dismay, he would have preferred that it wouldn’t happen. That you would have continued to do your own stuff, become a pianist, instead of deciding to follow the same dangerous path as him AND decide to get in a relationship with one of your co-workers. As if you couldn’t get more involved with them, with a dangerous life that could, will definitely change you. But you were young, stubborn and now in love.

As you looked up at Spencer just to get a brief look at something else than down at your papers, somebody scrap his throat making you look to the side where the sound came from. You locked eyes with your father as he was walking to his office, eyebrows slightly furrowed in your direction. You feel your cheeks heat up and look back down at your work, as if nothing happened. This may be nothing but it was enough to feel embarrassed about, facial communication being important between the two Hotchners. You haven't told him but he is not dumb, it was that protective father scold, the "don't even come next to my daughter" type. Spencer seemed to have noticed that small interaction as he became a bit clumsy with his papers, which made you grin.

2. Longing touches

5:18pm, Kansas City, Kansas.

Here it is, the final moment. The UnSub was finally caught, Albert Schumacher an ex-teacher who couldn't bear the thought of being separated from his beloved job. If he couldn't take care of children, why not making his own kindergarten ?

Because of the sweet month of November, it was already dark at that time, and cold, but not enough to be blinded by the night. The unsub in the car, Spencer was once again to your side, his hand on the small of your back as usual. The case was heavy, but it was finally over. You let out a breath as he was just resting his hand here, stroking his thumb a bit as an attempt to provide you a bit of comfort. Honestly, if he could hold you closer, he would. Even in front of everyone, gluing at your side.

An hour and half later, you decided to take a walk to clear your mind. To warm your heart through Kansas' cold, Spencer decided to keep you company. Through the walk he resisted the urge to take your hand in his, wrap an arm around your waist, hold you, hug you, warming you with his body warmth to keep you from shaking and feeling yours as well. He hated when other people touched him but he never got enough of yours. He kept wanting more even more because of the situation with your father who still didn't know about the two of you.

3. Keeping compagny

9:10pm, FBI private jet, Kansas City, Kansas -> Quantico, Virginia.

It was late, the winter night and cold were almost overwhelming, the case was over, a case involving children disappearing. The flight from Kansas City to Quantico may have been a two hours flight, but everyone was tired from all the efforts given in the last few days, few hours of sleep in the agents' system and the possible small jet lag that might hit the next day, the cold hitting their bones.

When you sat in the jet, you sat as a reflex not next to your father but next to Spencer, seeking comfort to him just like most of your nights after work for the last few months. He didn't realize either that he took the seat where your father was about to sit on, as he just sat to your side, closer than if he was sitting next to anyone else. Your father walked, prepared to sit next to you but stopped when he saw Spencer almost glued to your side in a blink. Instead, he sat in the seat in front of him, keeping a visual on the both of you. It's been a while since he has been observing you, your bond. He knew something was happening, not just because he was your father but also because he knew there was something happening, something above co-working, above friendship.

You were doing your best not to show it even when going back together from a case but right now you just didn't really care hiding this. You were both too exhausted to continue on this, maybe it was the irrationality of tiredness talking but anyway. Everyone knew there was something between the two of you, he would have known a way or another. Fuck the way you planned again and again to tell him, you just want to lean into the other and sleep until the end of the flight.

Everyone took a small nap during the flight except Hotch who was keeping himself busy, thinking back about the details of your position, the way you leaned to the other in your sleep. He thought back about the glances you throw to the other, the touches and the more he thought about it, the more he was upset.

Two hours later, you woke up as long as the other as the plane had landed. You give Spencer a small shake to his shoulder to wake him up. At the same time, you saw your father getting up and giving you a quick look that told a lot. He seemed tense at you but you shake that thought off as Spencer woke up, looking at you. Oh, how you couldn't wait to go back to his apartment and just lie in the bed next to other and have rest.

You both get off the plane and see your father outside. Usually, he would wait for you to at least wish you a good night/evening or something of that kind, but this time no. He didn't go right away but when you got off the plane he was just starting to walk away.

"Good night..?" you said to catch his attention.

It visibly worked as he stopped walking. He looked at you with tired eyes but still with distance in his look.

"Good night..." he answered with a small hesitation. He seemed to want to add something so you just let him talk, even if it was a bit tensed. "Do you need a ride home ?" he added as he proposed you usually, but already knowing the answer this time. Not that he never did but this time he was just sure. He never liked the co-driving with Spencer. You had your driver license and you could afford for a car, why relying on your co-worker even if you lived not so far from the other ? He didn't need to make express his discontent to make himself understood this time. He wasn't waiting for an answer.

"No thanks.. Spencer is driving me back home tonight." you answered, it was a bit awkward but you tried to get past that.

+ Confrontation

He nodded and scoffed a bit. "Yeah, of course."

You felt a tinge of guilt at this, something was wrong. You may know why he reacts like this and you don't think to have the mind at this at the moment, and you don't think he has either. "What do you mean ?" you asked, oblivious.

He faced you, looking at you in the eyes. He was silent at first but finally answered. "You know what I mean." There was a hint of venom in his voice. He kept his voice low enough for you and Spencer to hear. Spencer who was just in the back, tired and uncomfortable. This was clearly not how he wanted to get things clear about your relationship and neither do you.

"Then tell me. Tell me what you mean, what's wrong." You replied, looking at him in the eyes. You knew it would hurt but the conversation had to be done, and if he was going that way then his suspicions would be confirmed that way.

"What's wrong is this," he said, referencing to Spencer and you, giving him a look. "Do you have any idea of how unconscious it is ? Dating your co-worker, really ? And without even preventing anyone, you could get more than suspended, did you even think about your lives ?" he added in his boss tone. Yes, he wasn't just your dad but also your chief, but to be honest, you weren't expecting your unit chief talking to you.

All you did was nod once, looking slightly down before raising your eyes to him again and as you were about to answer, throat tight, but he speaks again.

"I'm not finished. What if one of you gets in danger trying to avoid an something to the other ?" He added, his voice was hiding of emotion by his attitude. You catch a glance of Rossi in the back who was about to call for your dad to calm down a bit, to let his role of chief down to let the father speak. He knew that he just wasn't ready for you to grow up as your relationship looked serious and not just a story without tomorrow. He was still getting used to having you around at the BAU, his daughter, what's left of his family alongside Jack.

You said nothing, letting him cool down. The atmosphere wasn't as tensed but more awkward. "And- and he's too for you. Why didn't you choose someone your age ?" he added after a small blank. You knew it was just an excuse, your gap with Spencer wasn't even too big, around five years. You knew it was an excuse not to say "why didn't you choose someone who's not from the FBI ?", questioning your career choices.

A/N: I'm so sorry I didn't know how to end this so here it is. Might do this series though ? I would like that. I want to make a happy ending but I just can't align more words. I don't think anyone would be interested btw but let me know. Perhaps it made me think about the first chapters of that series "Spencer x Prentiss!Reader" if you read it but I can't explain why lmao. It was so weird how I wrote this: I started by 1 then continued with 3 and the bonus then ended with 2 so I'm sorry if it was short lol

#x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner

[garbinge]

Clean Cut

Tim Bradford x F!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of bullets, war, shrapnel, anxiety, worry, car accidents. Slightly angsty. 

Word Count: 1.2k 

A/N: Okay so I just caught up with all The Rookie seasons and I’m just LIVING for Chenford. Like LIVING. buuuuuut I noticed there wasn’t much Tim x Reader fic out there soooooo I figured why not! This idea came to my head at some point when I was watching and I also have like a whole story of their life beyond and before this moment but enjoy this little reworked snippet from 2x08. 

The Rookie Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics​

It had felt like a long day already and you had only been clocked in at the hospital for two hours. You still had 10 hours left in your shift and it felt like you experienced a whole day’s worth already. Being a corpsman for a Marine squad prepared you for a lot but sometimes the uniqueness of LA and the people who resided in it and tended to need your RN medical services at St. Stevens ran you for your money. 

Currently, you were updating patient charts during the lull that was likely to last all of two seconds but it beat staying an extra hour to finish your paperwork likely unpaid because the hospital rarely approved overtime for RNs. 

“Wanna tell me why it’s so crazy for a Tuesday?” 

The statement from your coworker caused you to look at them over your shoulder and let out a laugh. 

“I wish I had an answer to that, but I also feel like anything I say will jinx it even more.” You pushed the computer cart against the wall and moved over to your coworkers cart. “You’ve got like 15 pages here, what is this?” You picked up the manila folder that was larger than your normal ER patient folders. 

“Police car accident. There’s a few of them in the ER right now, these things always include tons of paperwork. Everyone needs to cover their asses.” 

Your heart started to beat faster at the mention of a police accident but what really caused you to go into panic mode was seeing your husband's name on the report. 

Before you could even answer your co-worker you were moving down the stairs, knowing the elevator would take too long. You knew the elevator would probably be quicker but the thought of standing still while you waited for and in it would drive your mind crazy so rushing down the stairs was the better alternative. 

Tim was sitting on one of the ER beds, the scene of it caused you to stop for a minute. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Tim hurt waiting to be treated. In all honesty this was probably the tamest medical treatment scenario you two had been in together. He looked fine from afar, but that didn’t stop the worry from boiling in your gut. 

“What happened?” You were next to him within seconds, the worry being the fuel of moving you from the staircase entrance to his side in seconds. 

“I rear ended a civilian.” Tim knew better than to try and calm you down with pleasantries and relaxing mantras. 

“Jesus.” Your hand moved to your pocket in search of your pen light. Quickly, you flashed it in front of his eyes, searching for his eyes to constrict and then dilate when you moved the light away. 

“They already did this.” Tim’s voice was neutral, but you knew he was annoyed. 

“Humor me.” Your head tilted, now your own annoyance was clear to him. 

His eyes softened as they met yours and he nodded which gave you the okay to keep running through the trauma checklist in your head. 

“This isn’t like you.” Tim said after a few minutes of silence between you as he humored you by lifting up his arms as you pressed down on his ribs and checked his reflexes. 

“In what way?” You talked as you continued to look him over. 

“I’ve come home and told you I’ve gotten shot at and you barely react, I tell you that I got into a car accident and you’re acting like I have internal bleeding.” Tim’s eyebrows raised. 

“Did they do a CT scan? You could have internal bleeding. Especially if the airbags went off.” 

“Doc.” The use of the nickname only 13 people in the world knew you as caused you to stop your examination of Tim and stand in front of him, slightly defeated. 

“If I worried about every close call you encounter everyday, I’d be dysfunctional. This.” You pointed towards him and the bed, “This is tangible. This actually happened.” 

Tim nodded and a smirk slightly filled his face. 

“You doubtin’ me, Sarge?” You frowned as you asked him, using your own nickname for him. 

“No,” Tim let out a chuckle and shook his head before looking back up at you. “I know better than to ever doubt you.” 

“Smart man.” Officer Lopez walked up to the two of you with a smile. “How’s he doin’?” She looked between the both of you. 

“He’s fine. No signs of a concussion,” you looked at Angela and then back at Tim, “and no signs of internal bleeding.” You smirked at him knowing he was going to give you one back. 

“Give us a minute, Lopez?” Tim stood up and ripped the hospital bracelet off his wrist. 

“Yea, just wanted to let you know the break lights were cut in the car you hit, foul play, you’ll likely be in the clear.” She explained while looking at the both of you, relief coming as a sigh from both you and Tim. “I’ll be in the lobby.” She nodded at him and squeezed your arm to say goodbye before leaving the ER. 

“We goin’ back to the conversation we were having or a new one?” You asked Tim as he towered over you. 

“You pulled shrapnel out of my abdomen in Afghanistan and you look more worried checking me for a concussion.” Tim said with his arms crossed. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing.” Your one worded answer wasn’t convincing.

“Don’t lie to me.” Tim said more seriously than any of his other statements. 

You sighed, “Like I said, this is tangible. In Afghanistan, we weren’t exactly given the space to worry. Here, I feel like it’s all I have to hold onto. But again, if I held onto every worry I’d be dysfunctional. I know you can handle yourself when bullets are flying, when shit goes sideways, it’s these out of your control scenarios that just get me flustered.” You explained moving your hands around as you talked. 

Tim brought you in for a hug, knowing nothing he’d say could change anything. “You do realize, I’m the one that rear-ended the civilian, not the other way around, right? Totally in my control.” He teased you. 

“Not according to Angela.” You corrected him and he chuckled. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” He placed a quick kiss on the top of your head. 

“See you tonight, I already texted Angela all the concussion signs in case we missed anything.” Letting your last bit of worry out. 

“You haven’t missed a single diagnosis or injury since I met you, Doc!” He called out from a few feet from you. 

“You know, I’m technically not a doc, anymore, Sarge!” You yelled out to him. 

He turned around with his arms up as he continued to walk backwards. “And I’m not technically a Sargeant anymore.” 

“Old habits die hard!” You yelled back just before the elevator doors opened and he stepped backwards into the elevator flashing you a quick smile before the doors closed and he was back on duty.

#Tim Bradford #Tim Bradford x Reader #Tim Bradford x F!Reader #The Rookie #The Rookie Fanfiction #The Rookie Fanfic #The Rookie Tim Bradford #Tim Bradford Fanfic #Tim Bradford Fanfiction #Timothy Bradford

[untitled-tmnt-blog]

Summary of some answers from today's Q&A with Ron Corcillo!

(July 29, 2023)

Bullet points are below the cut, since it's a pretty long list! Some combine multiple answers, and they're categorized for ease of reading (obviously not every single answer is included, but I tried to get most of the ones I thought people might find interesting!)

Apocalyptic Future

The turtles were fighting side by side with Cassandra when Casey Jr was born, and Leo trained him to be a warrior. Casey Jr only has brief memories of his mother from when he was very young, and he was mostly raised by Leo.

The chips on Leo's plastron are probably battle scars.

Mikey was likely the equivalent of being in his 70's. He was powerful enough that he could unlock almost any mystic ability you could think of, but using them took a toll on him physically. The more powerful the ninpo, the more potential it has to sap your energy.

Mikey can open up portals through all of space and time (as opposed to Leo, who can mostly portal over relatively short distances), but it took him a long time to get to that level of ability.

Mikey probably grew a little taller than seen in the movie, but shrank as the use of his powers depleted him. Donnie would be slightly taller than Leo, and Raph would be at least 6'6".

The characters have obviously taken hits and lost some things from years of fighting the Krang, but Leo still does have his ninpo.

They never worked out the specifics for how Raph and Donnie died, just that they lost their lives in the war against the Krang.

Future Leo was mortally wounded in his bleeding side, and that was why he didn't go with Casey to the past.

If season 2 hadn't been cut short

The sudden declaration of Leo as leader wouldn't have happened, and was more of a joke because of how abruptly the show ended. The original plan was for the transition to be drawn out over much of season 3. Raph and Leo probably would have been co-leaders for a while, and the transfer of leadership wouldn't have caused tension since Raph would like to share the burden. There might have been some situations where Mikey or Donnie took the lead, too. Ron never saw the turtles as a group where there had to be one absolute leader.

Karai would have lived for much longer, and been training the boys in person for a number of episodes.

If there was a season 3 / plans they had for future seasons

They probably wouldn't have ever taken a dark turn with the show, but may have gotten into more of an extended plot line after the movie.

The missing sister who was Big Mama's henchperson would probably have been a very disciplined super serious ninja, to the point where she's actually funny. She was going to be named after a female artist, possibly Frida Kahlo, and the turtles would have had to win her back from Big Mama by helping her to see that she had been brainwashed as a child.

Their other missing sister was going to be trapped in another dimension for years, and might have been "a little kooky" from being there so long. The turtles would have split up to rescue their sisters, but there were no definite plans beyond that.

We would definitely see Casey Jr again. Ron would love to see a spin-off where Casey and Cassandra roam the world and fight the Krang and remnants of the Foot.

It was going to be revealed that a Krang spaceship had crashed into the back of the crying titan in the Hidden City. The ship's fuel was the source of the ooze that gives the Yokai their power, and possibly the origin of the Yokai themselves. The crashed spaceship is what drew the invasion there a thousand years ago.

Mikey's powers could have opened the door to some multiverse episodes.

We might have seen some redemption from Big Mama, but then also seen her relapse to her villainous ways.

The Rat King likely would have been the next big villain. Shredder's story is pretty resolved, so they wouldn't have gone back to him, but maybe they could have revived the dark armor. There were no existing plans for Bishop, but once the turtles became better known heroes, he could be a thorn in their side. They would have done a lot more with the Krang.

Donnie probably thinks he's much smarter than Raph, so it would have been fun to do an episode where he got to see how Raph beats him in common sense and emotional intelligence.

The turtles would probably talk to Karai's Hamato spirit when they need guidance.

Season 3 would pick up where the movie left off. They would have launched a new story right away, but the aftermath would have been in the background. We would have seen how they changed as a result of the movie events, as well as how they deal with now being in the public eye as heroes.

Miscellaneous

The 2012 series was very traditional TMNT, so a big goal of Rise was to mix things up. Making Raph the leader opened up a lot of possibilities for both Leo and Raph: Raph didn't have to be angry all the time about not being the leader, and Leo was free to be cocky and fun-loving. It was a breath of fresh air for writers who had done previous TMNT versions.

As for how the turtles take after Yoshi: Donnie got a lot of his cockiness from him, as did Leo. Mikey senses that Yoshi misses his family, and that's part of the reason he always tries to hold the family together. Raph got his courage and sense of duty from him.

For Halloween, Raph would be a kitten, Mikey would be a lion, Leo would be a rock star, and Donnie would be J. Robert Oppenheimer.

Raph's favorite music is R&B, Leo's is glam rock, Donnie's is techno, and Mikey likes boy bands.

When asked about the turtles "favorite" brothers (obviously they all love each other): Mikey is Raph's favorite. As much as Leo gives Donnie a hard time, he really likes him. Ultimately, the three younger brothers all really look up to Raph.

The turtles all had their mystic powers inherently, but they didn't know it and couldn't unlock them without a little boost. Their mystic weapons acted as a conduit.

Splinter has a lot of power that hasn't been revealed, and there's a good chance he can do anything the boys can do if he really tries (which is how he could use Leo's portals). Their powers all would have grown and expanded over time.

Ron really likes fanart of the turtles, Splinter, and April in emotional family situations, as that is the heart of the show.

They didn't really get into romance in the show, but fans are free to use their imagination.

Hueso would never admit it, but he and Leo do have a close friendship.

While Ron doesn't think the show will be brought back any time soon since Nick's focus is on Mutant Mayhem (which he thinks Rise fans will enjoy, since they seem to have a lot in common), he does think it could be brought back further down the road. The most helpful thing is fans' continued support through watching, posting, and spreading the word!

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #ron corcillo #twitter #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #my post #Q&A #Q&A Summary

[iateyourfav]

Faster (Reprise)

Watching Tech win that race made you feel some type of way, so you show him your appreciation.

Inspired by this post by @bsxcrxts

Based on Season 2 Ep 4!

! 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

Tech x Reader

Tags: nsfw, afab reader, no pronouns/gender neutral reader, aftercare

CW: face fucking, rough blowjobs, afab masturbation, handjobs (both receiving), hair pulling, slight praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, switching, orgasm control, shameless smut, bickering, Tech is LOUD

Words: 3.659

I was literally on aphrodisiacs while I wrote most of this I'm sorry

Masterlist

Read on ao3

You were quiet on the flight back to Ord Mantell. While Wrecker and Omega were sleeping in the back of the ship, tired from everything that happened on Safa Toma, you were sitting in the co-pilot seat next to Tech. You were deep in thought, trying to figure out why exactly you were feeling the way you did right now.

Something about watching Tech win that race made you feel giddy inside. It wasn’t just the concept of him winning the race itself. Everything flowed together so perfectly. The way he casually multi-tasked to study the schematics of that tunnel while engaging in a sport he literally learned about hours ago. The way he tricked those other two racers into crashing into each other. The way that it was clear that losing this race was not even an option he considered. That was probably the most attractive thing about the whole thing. The confidence in his own piloting skills.

You looked over at Tech, who was currently getting the ship ready to land. You were so deeply engaged in your own thoughts you didn’t even hear him when he announced you were almost at your destination. You felt the aftereffects of your revision of the previous events as well. Your face and ears were all hot and even goosebumps were making themselves apparent on your arms and legs. You couldn’t just move on from what you had witnessed on Safa Toma, you wanted to revel in the memory just a little bit longer. You wanted to show Tech just how much you enjoyed watching him race. 

You stayed in your seat when Omega and Wrecker left the ship, basically sprinting on their way to get some Mantell Mix. This presented you with the opportunity to stay on the ship with Tech, alone. So when you noticed him get up, intending to leave the ship as well and go after his siblings, you stopped him in his tracks by calling out his name. 

“What is it?” he asked, though you noticed most of this attention was focused on the datapad he was holding in his hands.

“Could you maybe explain to me how exactly you won that race one more time? In detail?" this caught his full intention “Why do you require an explanation? You were there to see it.” He sat back down, indicating that he was expecting this conversation to last longer. Your mind was racing, trying to decide if you wanted to be straightforward about how horny seeing him casually win that race made you or if you wanted to play innocent. You decided on the latter, for now. “I just think it would be beneficial to understand your thought process behind the whole thing.” You shrugged, trying to appear as casual as possible. He raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t question you any further.

“At first I stayed further back, seeing as I was rather unfamiliar with the route..” You leaned forward in your chair, eyes sparkling while a smile crept up on your face. You liked when he explained things to you. You could listen to him for hours, trying not to miss a single detail. So, as if the chair moved on its own, you inched closer to Tech. He noticed, though he didn’t acknowledge your action with more than a quick look at your chair as it moved closer to him. Initially, you didn’t think much about his reaction. But when you moved closer again, wanting to make sure you couldn’t possibly miss a word he was saying, he looked over again, but this time he stuttered as well, barely noticeable, but with the amount of attention you paid to him right now, you couldn’t miss it.

You managed to distract him, even unintentionally.

This revelation changed your approach to this situation. You were eager to keep listening to him explain his strategy, but at the same time you wanted to find out just how much you could distract him from his task at hand. So you moved even closer. This time his gaze lingered on the foot of the co-pilot seat for a bit before traveling up your legs, then quickly looking the other way. All while still explaining, of course.

You decided to throw caution into the wind and just keep diving head first into the situation presented before yourself, shoving thoughts of possible embarrassment, if this situation were to go wrong, to the side. You extended your right leg, slowly shuffling it towards his left. When the toes of your shoes touched, he paused his rambling about how he studied the schematics of that restricted tunnel mid-race. “What are you doing?” 

You tried to keep calm, trying to appear confident in your actions instead of as nervous as you actually felt. You could not think of a single excuse for trying to get this close to him. It seemed you had no other choice than to confess. “I just… Something about the way you won that race was captivating to me. I wanted you to explain how you went about doing that because it made me feel.. giddy inside.” The apparent blush on your face and you obviously staring at the floor to avoid eye contact destroyed any type of confidence or seduction you were trying to display. You swallowed hard before stating the next sentence. “I actually wanted to show you how much I enjoyed watching you during that race.” You dared a look at his face. Tech's eyes were locked on yours as soon as you looked back up at him, his mouth slightly agape. This was very clearly not what he expected you to say. There was an uncomfortable silence as he was thinking of a response. You don’t think you ever witnessed him having to think about something for so long. Then he put his data pad to the side, giving you his full attention.

“Do as you wish.” This was not an answer you were expecting. Your expression matched the one he had on his face earlier, eyes focused on his and lips slightly apart, dumbfounded. Tech, on the other hand, was now back to explaining those tunnel schematics as if nothing at all had happened. You took his statement as an invite to continue your advances. Though you required further communication to be able to proceed with your actions. So, not wanting to interrupt him, you raised your hand as if you were a student having questions about the ongoing lecture. He noticed this. “Yes?” he asked, eyebrows raised, not only interested in how you decided to get his attention, but also what it was you had to say. You asked your question while sinking onto your knees in front of his chair “Tell me to stop as soon as you want me to.” You looked up at him with a serious look on your face, wanting to make sure this was communicated as well as possible. The last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable. 

Tech replied instantaneously. “Thank you for your concern, though I do not intend to stop you from anything you may have planned.” A shiver ran down your spine. He was eager for this as well. If it was not clear from this statement, it was from the way his legs shifted apart slightly, making room for you. And then he just kept on rambling, which you were glad to listen to.

Your right hand started at his calf, traveling up to his knee while your left hand landed just above his other knee simultaneously. You could feel him tense up. You were still listening to everything he said while your hands slowly made their way up his thighs. Your gaze was studying him from the top down. You broke eye contact to look at him top to bottom. Your eyes first found leverage on his chest, stomach, then his crotch. You could swear you heard a particularly loud gulp when your gaze landed where it did last. Your hands made their way towards his toolbelt, having to loosen it, at least the main buckle, to reach where you wanted to end up. You unbuckled the belt quickly before removing his codpiece. He did not once stop laying out his strategy to you, though his voice sounded coarser now.

You shuffled further between Tech's legs, your elbows resting on his knees as you undid his trousers. Then you paused. He had stopped his speech as soon as your hand reached his zipper. You looked up at him, eyes huge due to the low angle at which you were positioned. You wouldn't have noticed how much your actions were affecting him from just his voice, as it was barely disturbed before you tried to get into his pants, though a single look in his face revealed how hard he was blushing at your actions. You gave him a small smile before stating: “Keep talking.” It seemed you had now regained the upper hand in this situation. You enjoyed seeing how he reacted to you, the effect you had on him, especially considering how much it usually takes to distract him from his ramblings. 

He picked his sentence back up where he paused it earlier. „I decided weapons were slowing me down too much, so I left them behind.“ You could tell he tried to talk as casually as possible, but with the way he gripped at his chair and his eyes intensely focused on your hands, it was easy to tell just how eager he was. Not to mention how noticeably hard he was by now. Your hand brushed over his crotch, making him shiver, before reaching into his pants to pull his dick out.

He groaned at this action. He was louder than you expected, and you hadn‘t even properly started yet. Even though this sound he emitted sent a shock straight to your core, you didn‘t like how it disturbed his rambling.

“I didn‘t say you could stop explaining.“ Another groan. You knew how much he enjoyed babbling about whatever was on his mind, so it shouldn‘t have surprised you that it turned him on when someone actually wanted to hear what he had to say. 

When he started talking again you began ghosting your hand over his now fully hard cock. He shivered once more but he just kept on rambling. When you looked up at him again you noticed his eyes were now shut, most likely to help him concentrate on laying out his strategy further. A small smile formed on your face, pleased with the power you had over him right now. You started pumping him, almost as a reward, because he did so good relaying the race to you.

A whimper escaped his throat. You noticed his voice had become breathier and quieter. His eyes were still closed and his head pressed against the headrest of the pilot‘s chair, trying his hardest to keep his composure - and failing miserably. Some encouragement might help, you thought. You paused the up and down motion of your hand on his dick to speak.

“Look at me.“ His glassy eyes met yours. Your hand twisted slightly, earning you another whimper from Tech. „ You‘re doing so well explaining, and as soon as you‘re finished telling me all about that race, I‘ll reward you properly.“ He bucked his hips into your hand, accompanied by a low moan. He swallowed hard before snapping back at you. „I do not require your praise. I am fully in control of myself.“ You snorted, disregarding his statement.  „With the way your body is reacting to me, I beg to differ.“ 

This time, instead of talking back to you, he continued his explanation. You noticed he was talking notably faster now, but you let him get away with it and started pumping and twisting your hand again. 

„I-I took the l-left t-tunnel, seeing as I w-was now a-able to go f-fast enough to be a-able to make it a-across the m-missing part of the t-track.“ It took everything in Tech to form a coherent sentence in this state. „Keep going.“ you spurred him on further, studying the way his face contorted in pleasure and concentration.

You shuffled closer, leaning towards his cock. Wanting to challenge his focus even more, you puckered your lips, blowing some air on the tip. A shiver ran down his entire body and his breathing hitched. Again, he paused his debriefing. „I thought you would only intend to let me into your mouth after I finish the revision of the race.“ He was next to breathless. „Don’t be so hasty. This is only a preview to keep you motivated.“ You licked a small circle around the head of his dick to emphasize your statement. A deep, uncensored, guttural moan left his mouth. „Don‘t cum too soon, or I‘ll leave you here with nothing.“, you whispered up at him. „We will see about that.“, he responded, more bratty than did him good right now. You retracted your head, sitting straight on your heels now again, and squeezed him a little; a kind of warning to keep him in line.

You could not deny that his small attempt at gaining back dominance heated up your entire body. So, while Tech tried his hardest to finish the last portion of his explanation, you shifted your hips to rub your thighs together, hoping your attempt at trying to get some friction would go unnoticed. Your hands were still busy, with your right back to pumping him with increasing speed and your left digging into his still clothed thigh.

“…I-I fell back, l-letting the r-racers that b-boxed me in c-crash into e-eachother, allowing m-me to a-accelerate p-past them and w-win the race.“ You could feel his muscles relax after finishing his last sentence.  He opened his eyes to look down at you again. He looked desperate, almost teary-eyed. 

„You explained so well, and now I wanna reward you for it.“, you purred up at him. You lifted your hips, resting your weight on your knees. Your arms found their way to the back of your head to gather your hair so it wouldn‘t get in your way. You would have to hold it back with one hand, seeing as you were not in possession of a hair tie at the moment.

You were about to lean forward to take him into your mouth when something stopped you. Tech's much bigger hand landed on top of yours at the back of your head where you held your ponytail in place. You glanced up at him, slightly dumbfounded. „Let go. I will hold it back for you.“, he elaborated. Your attempt at nodding as a way to show acknowledgement of what he said resulted in him pulling at your hair on accident. You twitched. Tech's eyes widened, displaying concern. „I apologize. It will not happen again.“ You kind of enjoyed the sensation, though. „No. Keep doing that. Feels good.“ You removed your hand that was still in your hair from underneath his. 

Both of your elbows found leverage on his thighs once again. Your right hand gripped the base of his cock while your lips lowered onto him to kiss his tip. This triggered another whimper on his part. You felt his grip on your hair become tighter. Your eyes locked with his. He was searching for affirmation in your gaze. You smiled up at him, biting your lip as a nonverbal sign of your enjoyment. You lowered your mouth back onto him, now taking him until he hit the back of your throat. He gave you a long, deep moan this time. He pushed you down even further onto him, making you gag. Tech moaned again, seemingly enjoying the sight and feeling of you almost choking on him. He bucked his hips into your mouth once before asking: „May I take the lead now?“ You nodded as eagerly as possible with a dick this deep down your throat, giving up the last bit of control you had over him.

His grip on your hair tightened the slightest bit more before he took full control, shoving your head up and down on his dick, his hips bucking up every time his tip met the back of your throat. You gripped his upper thighs, holding on for dear life. Your core ached at the way he used you to his advantage, while he kept on groaning and moaning with every movement, you looked up at him. While all you saw on his face was passion and pleasure, he looked down at you, tears streaming down your face as a response to how he used your mouth like this was the only thing it was intended for.

You stuck your tongue out, which reached his balls every time he pushed your face towards his pelvis. His head fell back, overwhelmed with pleasure. You could barely handle the sight of him.

Your arousal had built up steadily since this whole situation started, and now you had reached the point where you couldn‘t go untouched any longer. Not wanting to interrupt Techs enjoyment with your own greedy need for bodily pleasure you slowly removed one of your hands from Techs thigh. It slowly traveled down your body until you reached your cloth-covered clit. You tried rubbing yourself through the fabric of your underwear. Thankfully, you chose to wear a skirt that day, so you at least had only one barrier between your fingers and your swollen clit tormenting you. 

You groaned in a mix of pleasure and frustration, sending vibrations down the dick still steadily ramming down your throat. This sent Tech over the edge. He gripped your hair tighter, holding your head in place as he came down your throat. You helped him through his orgasm by bobbing your head up and down ever so slightly. He pulled you off him by your hair. He looked out of breath, and when you stuck out your tongue at him, showing him you swallowed everything he had given to you, he groaned one last time before leaning down and kissing your forehead, hands still tangled in your hair.

That‘s when he saw where your second hand had gone. You had completely forgotten about your own pleasure when Tech came, the hand pressed to your core just a remnant of what you had attempted without him noticing. Now he saw exactly what you needed, though.

“I would gladly provide assistance, if you let me.“ except for heavy breathing on his side, there was no indication this man had just fucked your throat until both of you were seeing stars. You looked up at him, lips agape. You didn‘t even attempt to talk, already aware your throat was sufficiently sore at the moment, so you just eagerly nodded your head. 

He offered you a hand, as if he hadn‘t just used your throat as a sex toy, and pulled you up into his lap, your back facing his chest. His hands gripped your ankles and pulled them in towards your ass and spread your thighs by parting your knees. Your hands gripped onto his forearms for balance and security. He put his chin on your shoulder, your temple touching his goggles. He wanted to see exactly what he was working with. 

He brushed his hand over the wet spot on your underwear, exactly as you did with him earlier. He didn‘t even bother to take them off, just pushing them to the side, leaving your core flush, swollen and exposed. You shivered at the cold air of the ship hitting you at your most sensitive area. He brushed his hand over your now naked folds. „I did not expect that using you in the way I did would make you this wet.“

You moaned at his words, feeling slightly embarrassed at his wording.

Tech's fingers found your clit and began slowly tracing circles around it. This time you bucked your hips, needing more. „Don‘t be so hasty.“, he mocked your statement from earlier. His teasing didn‘t last long though, as he soon added a second finger to enhance the feeling. It didn‘t take long for you to feel your orgasm build up. You turned your face towards him, your nose pressing against his cheek as his head was still resting on your shoulder. Your lips parted slightly, whispering small, breathy moans directly into his ear. You could hear him swear before he quickened his movements, pressing down harder. Your moans increased in frequency and volume with every circle he traced until you reached your high. Back arching, thighs trembling, groaning, ignoring the ache in your throat. Your head fell back onto his shoulder. He pressed his palm flat against your clit, his hand quivering slightly, providing gentle stimulation while he helped you ride out your orgasm as his head turned to yours kissing your cheek.

You stayed like this for several minutes before you caught your breath again. He moved your underwear back into place. When he could tell you recovered from your orgasm enough to not pass out and fall over as soon as he let you go, Tech lifted you off his lap, setting you back onto the floor. You looked up at him, cheeks still stained with tears, still breathing heavily.

„You did well, and it is obvious you enjoyed this as much as I did, but I can tell your throat is sore, which needs to be taken care off quickly before it gets any worse. I will make you some tea.“ He tucked himself back into his pants and fastened his toolbelt again before getting up, walking towards a storage cabinet to get some teabags. You looked after him, still sitting on the floor next to the codpiece he had left behind, wondering how this was the same man who used your mouth as a fleshlight moments ago.

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb smut #smut #tech x reader #star wars the bad batch

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— Lake House Shenanigans Edition

22/23 SERIES MASTERLIST

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, _alexturcotte, and 10,346 others

yourusername the hughes & co annual lake house week summarized:

- i pushed trevor into the lake 17 teams and he only did it 16 times

- I WON THE CHEL TOURNAMENT! suck it boys <3 (cole got second place)

-our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died

- z-baby is back in his bucket hat era and i’m so obsessed with him! my fiancé is so fiiinnnneeeee

- i did not get sunburnt out on the boat (jacky boy and turcs did) so i’m obviously a god

- z and i forced everyone to listen to us do karaoke to taylor swift songs (they loved it)

- lukey lost sorry 5 times (we played 5 times)

- sorry as a drinking game is an 11/10 i highly recommend

- i was nice and didn’t force everyone to watch the hunger games series and it was terrible

- quinn dropped me after throwing over his shoulder (see slide 9) and i have a giant bruise on my leg (i’ve named it jerry)

the hughes & co. annual lake house week summarized in a poem: “i’m so happily in crazy with you” ~atticus

tagged trevorzegras, jackhughes, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, _alexturcotte, and colecaufield

view all comments

trevorzegras oh you and your poems… i love you, forever, my fiiinnnneeeee fiancée 🧡

yourusername i love you, always, loser🧡

trevorzegras that was uncalled for

yourusername you should’ve thought about that before losing everything?

trevorzegras i let you win!

jackhughes @/trevorzegras maybe at the pushing in the lake contest, but not chel

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras you were out round 1

trevorzegras @/jackhughes @_alexturcotte she practiced with jimmy all season!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras don’t blame me for you sucking

trevorzegras i quit

yourusername @/trevorzegras cry baby

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yourusername @/trevorzegras i mean i guess

user77 i would’ve killed to be a fly on the wall

_quinnhughes why on earth would you name your bruise?

yourusername it was a gift

_quinnhughes it was an accident!

yourusername @/colecaufield quintin said he doesn’t love me anymore so congrats you’re best friend number one!

_quinnhughes i didn’t say that!

colecaufield @_quinnhughes too little too late

jackhughes @/yourusername why am i not in the running for best friend?

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes because she hates you and i love her

yourusername @_quinnhughes TOO LITTLE TOO LATE

yourusername @/jackhughes you remind me of a muddy rock <3

lhughes_06 @/yourusername don’t worry i still love you

yourusername @/lhughes_06 and this is why you’re my favorite! i love you, lukey moosey!

jamie.drysdale stop having fun without me

yourusername stop having other friends

jamie.drysdale no

yourusername then i will continue to do so! i still love you!

jamie.drysdale i mean i guess i love you, too

yourusername you guess?! i should be your sun, your moon, and all your stars!

jamie.drysdale you’re definitely my something

yourusername i’ll take it <3

jackhughes @/yourusername if i said this you’d tell on me and ridicule me

yourusername @/jackhughes that’s because i hate you🥰

user4 let’s play “who’s sissy’s least favorite hughes?”

yourusername it’s still quinn?? idk why we keep playing this game

user20 they’re throwing money at her😭 idol status

_alexturcotte “our annual twister game is not pictured, but trust that no one died” you fell face first into the coffee table and have a bruise on your forehead

yourusername but did i die?

_alexturcotte no…?

yourusername didn’t think so #invincible

_quinnhughes @/yourusername did you name your forehead bruise?

yourusername @_quinnhughes no? that one wasn’t a gift! what part of this do you not understand?

_quinnhughes @/yourusername all of it

_alexturcotte @_quinnhughes do you even love her?!

yourusername @_quinnhughes yeah! do you?

_quinnhughes @/yourusername OF COURSE I LOVE YOU

yourusername @_quinnhughes somebody needs a nap

_quinnhughes i quit

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes welcome to the club

user17 oh how i’ve missed this chaos

user99 your posts help fill the offseason void

lhughes_06 “my hand is on yellow, you personification of a semi-colon” is hands down my favorite sissysult

_quinnhughes one of the most entertaining things i’ve been called

jackhughes i liked “stop acting like a pissed on snow cone” (also to quinn)

colecaufield you’re all wrong the best sissysult was “go change, you look like a minecraft creeper rubber duck”

trevorzegras @/colecaufield that’s because you weren’t called a minecraft creeper rubber duck

yourusername @/trevorzegras think about that the next you wear all green

trevorzegras @/yourusername you’re mean

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras personally, i think she should be meaner

colecaufield we’re playing a rematch when we play the ducks next season

yourusername over my dead body

colecaufield i could arrange that

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale you wouldn’t let him kill me, right?

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername i’ll protect you, ex-wife!

yourusername @/jamie.drysdale this is why you’re my favorite ex-husband <3

jackhughes @/colecaufield i’ll help kill her

yourusername @/jackhughes i know your weakness, least favorite ex-husband/muddy rock

jackhughes @/yourusername and that is?

yourusername @/jackhughes me.

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes she’s got you there

jackhughes @_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras i’m joining your club

user9 maybe i don’t want to be a fly on the wall… that sounds terrifying

jackhughes if you have ever been bullied or physically attacked by sissy soon-to-be-rowden soon-to-be-zegras, you may be entitled to compensation. dial 442-839-6876

trevorzegras that’s a good one

_alexturcotte 🔥

yourusername i hate you sm too damn

jackhughes @/yourusername can we truce now? for the week?

yourusername @/jackhughes FINE. i love you, soulmate

jackhughes @/yourusername i love you, too, sissy

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #quinn hughes #quinn hughes image #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #luke hughes #luke hughes imagine #alex turcotte #alex turcotte imagine #trevor zegras insta edit #hockey imagine

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Sebastian & Co. - Riddle Rosehearts Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

I changed it up a bit Anon, and made you Ciel's long lost cousin twice removed and a lord instead of an earl, pre overblot riddle, beheading is literal. But your butler is still Trey and your staff is still the rest of the Heartslabyul cast like we discussed before. Sorry for not posting at an earlier time, my seasonal allergies turned into a very bad cold. —Benny🐰

Warnings -> Passing mentions of decapitation...

                                                                                                   

🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯

🐈‍⬛ Sebastian's first impression of you was... not great. When he opened the front door to let you inside, you were in the midst of shouting at your butler about following rules and then you turned to him and said "It's about time!" So you were another cheeky brat like his master, it seems. The demon didn't mind you all that much though, he was used to dealing with children already.

🐈‍⬛ He was a bit shocked that you were Ciel's distant cousin, but then again your soul was just slightly similar to that of his master. While you and his young master conversed about your childhoods, Sebastian listened in from where he stood off to the side. All he could really offer your situation sympathy-wise was a short muttered "Oh."

🐈‍⬛ Upon your arrival you had brought a few members of your staff with you, which Sebastian thought of as strange since you came here to see his young master only. But he figured that you must have wanted to introduce them to your cousin. Or... to give them an example of how to do their jobs properly, from what the demon butler saw, they were just as incompetent as the Phantomhive Manor's own staff. Ugh. Such misfortune.

🐈‍⬛ Sebastian did however meet your own butler who went by the name of Trey Clover. He was quite impressed with his performance considering he was a human. Though later in the visit you had sent Trey to assist him with dessert, something about "Trey, go make me a tart.". And dear me did Sebastian find out your butler can make a good ass tart.

🎩 Ciel was quite shocked to find that he had any family left after Madam Red's unfortunate passing. You looked a bit similar to his aunt as well, but you quickly clarified that you were his distant cousin twice removed. The young earl was definitely taken aback at your intense dedication to the rules your mother raised you with. Ciel was even more shocked that you hold your staff to the same rules and behead those who disobey.

🎩 Truth be told he finds you quite childish and audacious, such rules are utterly ridiculous, and he tells you so. Fortunately, you can't bring yourself to behead Ciel and the two of you delve into a long talk about your differing childhoods. He learned of your mother and what she put you through, but he can't help but be envious that you still have your parent, even if they aren't the best. Ciel doesn't tell you that though.

🧹 Poor Mey'rin is terrified of you! She was moving a stack of expensive china plates from the storage room to the kitchen and as she walked through the tea room, past you and the young master, she tripped! The plates sailed to the ground and broke on impact. As Mey'rin turned to apologize, she was met with a very angry you, shouting about how she should be beheaded for her mistake.

🧹 Thankfully one of your staff, Ace, made up some excuse that calmed you down and helped her up. Mey'rin instantly fell in love, he was such a 'kind gentleman'. How he looked in her eyes with that boyish smirk and said, "Let's get outta here.", she couldn't hold herself together and sprinted out of the room in embarrassment.

🧯 Bardroy is peak annoyed with you, he already has the young master, he doesn't need another spoiled child to deal with. He was 'cooking' in the kitchen, right, trying to make something for the esteemed guest. So he did the usual, light a stick of dynamite and toss it in the oven, right? Then the oven exploded and Bardroy could hear your shouting all the way from the game room.

🧯 You ended up sending in one of your staff to check out what happened in the kitchen and that's how he met Deuce. Bardroy thought he was a pretty nice kid even if he too had no idea how to cook without being destructive either. He also found the interest in pots to be weird. "Let's just use a pot!" "Eh!? Steak in a pot?"

🪴 You scare Finny sometimes, yes, but he knows that deep down you're probably really nice. While both you and the young master were sitting in the garden having tea, he accidentally let a hedgehog loose. However, his suspicions were proved right when he noticed that you had picked up the hedgehog and sat it on your lap, petting it as if it were a cat.

🪴 A member of your staff named Cater had literally bumped into him while he was walking past the newly installed rose hedges. He and Finnian got along swimmingly as they spoke about their shared interests with one another. He also found that Cater really enjoyed taking photographs in his free time.

🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

#male reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #black butler #black butler sebastian #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji sebastian #black butler x male reader #black butler x reader #black butler x gn reader #black butler x gender neutral reader #kuroshitsuji x male reader #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x gender neutral reader #kuroshitsuji x gn reader #sebastian #sebastian michaelis #sebastian x reader #sebastian x male reader #sebastian x gn reader #sebastian x gender neutral reader #sebastian michaelis x reader #sebastian michaelis x male reader #sebastian michaelis x gn reader #sebastian michaelis x gender neutral reader #hunn1e bunn1e's ask box #ask box #answered anon #answered asks #answered

[dbacklot99]

Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About The Crow Road, But Couldn't Get Through it To Find Out

Co-written by dbacklot and cheeseplants

WARNING: SPOILERS EVERYWHERE!!

Overall Premise: Books are clearly important to Good Omens and Neil & team have left us Clues. In S2E2, the xray trivia highlights a list of books they would like the audience to read. But even more specifically, there are names of certain books on the back of the chairs in the theater in the opening credits. Those books are: The Tale of Two Cities, Pride & Prejudice, and The Crow Road - twice!

What might this mean? One theory is that the chairs represent the seasons. The body swap in S1 is similar to how Carton, in Tale of Two Cities, takes his doppleganger's place in jail, sacrificing his life so Darnay could go free and be with his family. Pride & Prejudice is clearly referenced in S2, with Crowley's proposal as a sort of mirror to Darcy's first proposal. (There's probably a whole lot more to unpack there - and if you like Austen, here are some thoughts about Aziraphale's favorite book, Persuasion, and how it may relate to the characters.)

BACK to The Crow Road. The title is shown on two chairs in the opening sequence, suggesting that it is related to both S2 and S3. Furthermore, we see the book multiple times in the show and it's the book Muriel reads at the end. As an aside, Neil Gaiman and Iain Banks were very good friends. Iain Banks died over a decade ago, so it is also likely a bit of a tribute to his friend.

So let's dig in and see why perhaps Neil keeps holding this book up and shouting Clue!

Side note: The book is long and most of the action happens in the final third, which can make it a hard read for folks. There's also a lot of characters and it can be tricky to remember how they are all related. There is a family tree BUT it has spoilers.

The Name: The Crow Road is a phrase used by the grandmother to indicate someone has died, ie - he's gone the crow road.

The Plot: This is the story of Prentice growing up with his immediate and extended family in Scotland. His Uncle Rory disappears in his early childhood. Some family members choose to believe Rory is still alive. After a hook-up with his Uncle Rory's former girlfriend as a young adult, Prentice starts gathering journals and writings from his missing Uncle Rory, who was (for a few years) a successful writer and traveler. Prentice eventually learns that 1) another Uncle, Fergus, had murdered his own wife and covered it up as a car accident and 2) Rory had figured this out and confronted him. Fergus then murdered Rory, hid all the evidence, and hired an acquaintance (who also traveled) to send matchboxes from bars across the world to Prentice's father, Kenneth. Kenneth, believed - as Fergus intended - that these were messages from Rory, indicating he was still alive. 

Stylistically, Prentice's childhood memories and fragments from Rory's journals are interspersed throughout the book, much like the minisodes are in S2. It can take the reader a while to figure out who is telling the story or where this information is coming from. It is also unclear how reliable Rory is as narrator - perhaps this also plays into S2.

What it Might Mean: 

Fergus could represent the Metatron. He is very powerful, rich, and conservative; he lives in a castle (Heaven?) and wants authority. Fergus also murders two relatives and hides those murders; the murder of his wife may have been inspired by jealousy over her sleeping with another man, an event which may or may not have happened.

Fergus also sets up fake messages!! The matchbooks are red herrings to make it look like Rory is still alive. As the Metatron relays messages from God, I can't get over the possibilities here. We have seen God speaking directly as recently as Job, but are the other messages real?

I can't help but wonder if the matchbooks and their use as messages inspired Neil to use the matchbook in S2. The matchbook in S2, incidentally, connects to all three minisodes - the quote from Job, 41:19 (reversed 1941), and the matchbox is from the Resurrectionists pub. So the matchbook contains not only Gabriel’s memories but refers to Azi’s as well?

Much of the book is about this missing uncle. Is a character (or their memory) missing in S3? I have theories, but its too soon to tell.

There's also an interesting theme of Prentice collecting his Uncle Rory's writings and records, including sending some corrupted computer discs to an expert in America to try to restore them. Given the emphasis on records ("It contains information in a tuneful way") and journals in S2, not to mention this trivia nugget ​​ - my brain is itching that there's a connection there.

Faith & Beliefs: The book talks about Faith a lot. Prentice believes in God and his father Kenneth doesn’t. And Kenneth doesn’t just reject religion, he wants his children to reject religion too. Prentice on the other hand desperately wants something to believe in - especially after a friend's death in an accident. This leads to a huge fall out - they end up not talking over it.

"'I mean, what's the big argument? Can't you just agree to disagree?' 'No; we disagree about that,' I shook my head. 'Seriously; it doesnt' work that way; neither of us can leave it alone. There's almost nothing either of us can say that can't be taken the wrong way, with a bit of imagination. It's like being married.'" (Ch 7)

Kennth seemingly taunts God - he climbs a church during a lightning storm and is struck dead. His uncle Hamish (one of Kenneth’s brothers) also represents the extreme version of Faith and ends up running a sort of cult, at least until Kenneth’s death.

What it Might Mean: The thread they pull through a lot is about meaning, and whether you can have meaning in life without God. Prentice gains Faith because his friend died senselessly; he wonders how can you have a world be so cruel. There must be a reason for it (this is sort of Az coded), and he turns to God to create the meaning for him. 

BUT Kenneth’s argument is that you don’t need Faith for the world to have meaning (or at least that is my reading). It is wonderful because it is inherently meaningless (this is very existentialist, but I do think that’s the point). That Faith doesn’t do that, and just means you are looking outwards without looking at what is right in front of you. Which again, could be a Crowley way of looking at it, or at least where he is headed. Life is good as life, and doesn’t need God to make it so. 

Hamish represents someone putting so much meaning into Faith that they lose all sense of Joy, he becomes distant.  (One of my favorite scenes is Hamish doing a jigsaw puzzle with the pieces upside down - and cutting the pieces with scissors if they don’t fit right!)

The Romantic Relationships: Prentice is infatuated with a cousin (second cousin?), Verity. She is described as beautiful, in white/light colors, pure, lives with Uncle Fergus in the castle. There are legends around her birth -  she was conceived under a tree during a storm. She is unattainable and eventually ends up with Prentice's older brother.

Ash, on the other hand, is almost literally the girl next door and Prentice’s long-term best friend. Her family is poorer and maybe has some domestic violence issues. She's always there for Prentice - literally a shoulder to cry on, sharing a bottle of whiskey, helping him sober up after said whiskey. There's obvious romantic tension from Ash’s side but she never pushes him and instead guides him along. And the book ends with a romantic resolution that feels very much like the final fifteen - except with a happier ending.

“- and I still didn’t feel I could tell her how I felt about her because she was going away now, and how could I suddenly say I love you when I’d never said it to anybody in my life before? How could I say it now especially, the night before she was due to leave? It would look like I was trying to make her stay, or just get her into bed. It would probably wreck this one precious evening that we did have, and upset her, confuse her, even hurt her, and I didn’t want to do any of that.” (Ch 13)

They finally kiss and spend the night together, both confessing their love. Ash has to leave the next morning to pursue a career opportunity in New York; Prentice is sad that she goes but re-dedicating himself to his studies and working towards a relationship together. 

What it Might Mean: To me, Verity is very Heaven-coded and Ash is very Hell-coded. A big part of Prentice's arc (Prentice may represent Azi here) is getting over his blind infatuation with Verity and realizing the value and love he has with Ash. However, they also need to be apart and grow a bit before they can be together.

Other thoughts? Connections? Would love to hear your theories!!

@cheeseplants

#good omens #good omens s2 #good omens 2 #good omens thoughts #final fifteen #good omens meta #the crow road

[writingwithcolor]

Romani character portrayals in fanfiction

Rroma Dick Grayson, batman fanfiction

endoftheworldhere asked:

I wanted to write a fanfiction about what Dick Grayson’s life would have been like if he wasn’t adopted by Batman. It was going to have him dealing with the bad parts of Gotham City and interacting with various criminals and rouges, But I was worried that could come off as stereotypical or racist since he’s been portrayed as at least part Romani and I wanted to include some connections to his heritage as a way he clings his parents after they died so traumatically. Any advice?

The thing about Dick Greyson is that he was retconned into being part Romani, and the writers did so in a very stereotypical way. A lot of Romani people have talked about this, especially on Tumblr, and opinions do vary about how he should be written. Many think it’s best to ignore his “heritage” and just write him as white, while others disagree and think that his heritage is important representation and should be written, but more respectfully.

I honestly don’t know my personal opinion on this, but I will say that there is a huge stereotype about Romani people being criminals. If you do plan to write him as part Romani, make sure to avoid these tropes. Otherwise, I would just nix his Romani heritage.

-Mod Tess

Romani woman, curses and Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Anonymous asked:

I'm struggling a bit with a piece of fan work right now, and I was hoping you could weigh in. In Buffy season two, there's a character named Jenny, who we first meet as a techno-pagan computer science teacher, who helps Buffy and co deal with fighting demons and stuff. Only the thing is, she's Rromani. She's there to make sure a family curse stays on a vampire who killed someone beloved to them a century ago (mostly to protect people from him if Angel/Angelus gets uncursed), which everyone gets mad at her for not telling them when he loses his soul and goes on rampage.  Ordinarily, it's not hard to write her, because until that arc, she's a fun character who happens to be a Rroma woman, and as other characters use magic, that doesn't stand out. But the whole curse thing, and the depiction of her family we're given, (and the way a canon redemption arc for Angelus I can't stand starts with him getting a soul as a punishment for killing a Rroma woman in 1898), and the everyone being mad about deception all just feels like many negative stereotypes.  What would be your thoughts on depicting Jenny, and on what to keep in mind trying to rewrite how she was shown in the show. [Ask redacted for length]

Let me just start out by saying that I am not very familiar with Buffy, so thank you for the context. I think your best bet here would be to drop the curse plot line altogether, as that’s a huge stereotype about Romani people. I think it’s ok to have her do magic, as long as other characters also do, and although I do think the vampire stuff is also a stereotype (a lot of vampire lore is supposedly taken from some Romani folklore, and Romani people are often associated with vampires in pop culture), I think it’s fine given the context of the show.

-Mod Tess

#Romani #Romani women #Romani men #fanfiction #Romani stereotypes #Romani tropes #asks

[chelsea-xxx2003]

Classmate

Miles x black fem reader

(Not my image)

Summary - Y/n delivers a textbook to Miles’ house when he forgets it in maths class.

The extra curricular maths class is over. I attended because we have an exam next week. I really don't know why I stayed, I don't think I needed it. It's only a few students that went after school. The teachers words are just gibberish because I'm too tired to listen. The bell rings and everyone immediately starts packing up to leave this place to enjoy their weekend. I'm a bit slow in packing my things making me the last one to leave.

"Oh Y/n!"

I was literally by the doorway when Mrs Williams called me. I put on an award winning fake smile and walk to her desk. She's not buying though.

"You can stop the act."

*Sigh* "Was it that obvious?"

"I'm a black woman too okay. Don't get me started."

We both share a small laugh before she continues talking.

"Mr Morales over here has left his text book. Could you go and give it to him. I'll write his address on this paper. Usually, I wouldn't do this but we have an exam next week and I have a feeling he might need it over the weekend."

She writes it on a piece of paper and hands it to me. I read and it doesn't seem too far. Just in the opposite direction I go. I walk outside and start heading in the direction of the address. I really haven't walked here before but it looks pretty lively. There's a basketball court with guys my age playing, music blasting but in an enjoyable way and everyone talking to each other.

I reach the apartment building. I go to press the buzzer but someone was making their way out and held the door for me. I walk inside and up the stairs. I check the paper again to be sure. Third floor. Ok In that moment I realise how awkward this could be. I mean we barely talk. The only time we do is when we are put in groups to work together. Nothing else.

I knock on the door and wait. I can hear a lady talking. Spanish I think. I couldn't hear another person so she must have been on the phone. The locks on the door unlock and the door opens showing a lady in scrubs and an apron on top. The aroma of well seasoned food graces my nose. But that's not the focus.

She looks at me with an eyebrow raised. I think I should introduce myself before I die of awkwardness. I take a peek at her name tag. Rio Morales

"Umm hi Mrs Morales?"

"That's me."

"I'm Y/n and I'm just here to deliver Miles' maths textbook, he forgot it in class and we have an exam next week. Our teacher thought that he might need it so that he can study over the weekend."

She looks me up and down like the security guard at school. All of a sudden I feel like in hiding illegal substances. Her expression changes to a soft one. She's balancing her phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Oh come in."

"Wait but-"

She continues her conversation on the phone and walks to the kitchen. What now? I look at the time on my phone. Its 4:48 and I really should be home by now. I close the door and I peek into the kitchen to where she is. She finishes her conversation on the phone with a 'girl bye, talk to you later'.

She looks at me and I stand up straight. I've been taught by my dad to make a good impression and to respect elders, only when necessary. "I didn't know Miles a 'girl' friend." She did the two finger gesture at the word 'girl'.

"Well we're just classmates really." I give an awkward laugh to sorts ease the tension inside me. "Umm Mrs Morales I really shou-"

"Would you like something to eat. I cooked a lot so there is plenty"

The food she was cooking smelt so good. I haven't smelt something like this since my mom died. My stomach was begging for it but should I really. She has this smile on her face that is so convincing. Why not.

"Let me call home first."

"Ok"

I call and someone picks up the phone.

"Y/n where are you? You should have been home by now. You have me worried sick."

"Yeah, sorry Jay. I had to deliver something to a classmate. His mother offered for me stay for dinner. If that's cool with you."

"A friend? Oh how nice. Sure you can stay over. Don't stay too long though. Ok bye now"

I thought she would be my saving grace but no. Jadyn is my neighbour and is looking after me whilst my dad is out on deployment. She's always telling me that I need to make friends. I do have friends, in LA.

I cut the phone and look at Mrs Morales who has a waiting look on her face. "I can stay over."

"That's good. My husband should be back in a minute and Miles..... where's Miles?"

I take my jacket off and hook it by the door and place my bag in a corner. I take off my shoes and place them to where other shoes are.

"Well since I'm here I can help you. If you don't mind."

"Oh sure. You can set the table for me."

She hands me plates, cutlery and mats. I place them nicely with the fork on the left and the knife on the right. I place the extra mats in the middle for the food. The door opens and this big guy in a cop uniform walks in. I freeze in my spot.

"Hey Jeff, welcome home." Rio goes and hugs him and kiss his cheek. I look away though.

"Hi. Who's this?" He asks looking at me through those dark glasses. I can feel the intense look.

"This is Y/n. Miles friend at school."

Again with the 'friend'. I barely know the boy. We've only had a few interactions at school.

"Nice to meet you Mr Mora-" I had put my hand out to shake his.

"What brings you here." He takes his jacket and hat off to hang it.

Well, that hurt.

"I was just delivering Miles' maths textbook. He had forgotten it in class so I was leaving it here for him because we have an exam next week."

"Oh ok. What do your grades look like?"

"Jeff stop."

"What? I'm just making sure she ain't a bad influence on Miles. Speaking of you don't happen to be keeping Miles later than usual?"

"N-no sir. I'm a straight A student at school."

Now he was inspecting me from head to toe. I know the feeling. My dad did that if he thought I was doing something suspicious or making sure my room was clean. I get put on the spot, especially by people of authority.

"What do your parents do?"

Oh damn. Here we go. I always hate this part. When I tell them they have a look of pity and I don't like it. They start treating me like I'm fragile.

"Umm my mom died when I was a kid." I look down so I don't have to see their faces morph into sorrow. I finally look up and of course they look sorry for me. I give a small smile. "That was many years ago, it doesn't bother me too much." I try to brush it off.

"Oh gosh. I'm so sorry."

"My dad on the other hand is a staff sergeant in the army."

Both their eyes widen. Mrs Morales in amazements and Mr Morales in an "oh crap" kinda look. That the look I always get after telling people my dad is in the army and his rank shocks them. I bet he feels bad for assuming I was a bad kid and intimidating me. At that same time the door opens again revealing Miles.

"Sorry I'm late. I was at the library studying for next weeks maths exam."

We all look at him. This guy is in so much trouble. He looks back and notices me. Lord help this boy.

"Oh Y/n, what are you doing here?" he asks confused.

"Oh you where at the library. Wow Jeff we have a smart and dedicated son right." Rio cheerfully says.

"Oh yeah, I'm very proud. So what topic where you studying?"

"Umm you know algebra, trigonometry and stuff."

"Oh what were you using?"

"My maths textbook."

Lord send an angel to take me now. The sarcasm is so present in the room. How can he not detect it? But at the same time I wanna watch. Both Mr and Mrs Morales give each other an unimpressed look. It's about to go down (insert Kevin Hart voice).

"Ok Mr 'I was at the library' answer this question. How can you study when your maths book is on the table?" His mom asks.

He glances at the table behind me and sees his textbook laying there.

"Y/n here has kindly come to drop your book here since you left it at school. Isn't that so nice of her hmm?" The tone in her voice is so unsettling. I would melt if I was Miles. Caught in a lie. Miles then looks at me. I feel guilty for bringing his book. Wait that ain't right, it's not my fault for the kind gesture.

"Anyway, dinners ready. We'll talk about this later. Y/n is staying over for dinner. She set the table so nicely."

His mom goes back into the kitchen to dish the food. His dad goes to sit at the table and Miles lays his stuff on the sofa in defeat and sits next to his dad. I shuffle to the kitchen to continue helping.

Now we are all seated at the table. His dad at the head of the table, his mom next to him, Miles opposite her and me next to her. But other than that, food looks great. I sit with my hands to my side. I don't want to make the first move.

"Let's say grace shall we."

They each other’s hands. I follow the same suit. I do this with my dad when he's home. His mom starts to pray.

"Lord may you bless this food we are about to eat, bless the people in this house.... even if they attempt to lie. Amen."

Talk about shade. I'm sure the heavens felt that. Now we are eating in silence. It's fine because the food is so delicious.

"So y/n, you said your dad is a staff sergeant. How long has he been in the army?"

I swallow my food and answer the question. "He's been in the army for 22 years now. He's 45 now so he was 23 when he joined."

We eventually finish eating. The conversations flow nicely without any awkwardness. However Miles hasn't said a thing. Kinda forgot he was here.

"Miles clear the plates." Without a word he hurry's to do the dishes. While his mom and dad are talking about their day at work I go to the kitchen to help him out. I grab a dish towel that's on the counter and start drying the dishes.

"Sorry if I got you in trouble."

"It's not your fault, it was for a good reason. I shouldn't have lied in the first place."

"Call me a detective or something but I think you had paint on your face. I don't think your parents noticed."

He pauses and looks at me. He clears his throat and discreetly says "Spray painting."

"Oh word?"

He nods his head and continues with the plates.

"Anyway thanks for bringing my book."

"Don't thank me, it was Mrs Williams' idea. I was just about to head home when she stopped me. Then your mom asked me to stay for dinner. Btw your parents are so intimidating but nice at the same time."

He laughs. He has a cute laugh.

"I think a dad in the army is more intimidating if I say so. I think you had my dad a bit shook. What does your mom do?"

"Uh my mom was a nurse."

"Was?"

"She died when I was a child, too young to remember."

"Oh I'm sorry about that."

"It's ok. Anyway, we've finished now. I have to get going home. It's dark now."

"Thanks for helping out. See you at school then."

"Yeah."

We bothwalk to the dinning area. This grabs his parents attention. "Uh I have to get going now. Thanks for the meal Mrs Morales, it was really nice."

"Oh darling, it's fine. Hope to see you again. But it's dark now, I'm sure Jeff can give you a ride."

He happily agrees and gets up to put his jacket on. I put my shoes and jacket on and pick up my bag. I say goodbye to Mis and his mom. I can see Miles say something behind his mom without her noticing. He said 'pray for me'. Oh yeah he's still in trouble. I close the door and walk downstairs with his dad.

I give him the address and it's a silent ride. I'm not complaining though. I open the door and Jadyn is already by the door.

"Y/n it's dark out and....... what have you done?"

She notices the cop behind me.

"Oh this is Miles' dad, he gave me a ride home. You know, my 'friend'.

"Oh well thank you Mr Morales for bringing her home, hope she wasn't any trouble."

"Not at all. It's my son that's in trouble. It was nice to have you y/n."

With that he leaves.

"Miles huh? Sounds like a boy name." She's smirking at me.

"No" I leave for my room before she can say anything else. I jump on bed thinking about today. Today was ok. That interacting with Miles was fun. I'm glad I stayed after all.

#into the spider verse #miles morales #spider verse #miles morales x reader #spiderman

[elcpsstuff]

get him back! // Conrad Fisher

Synopsis: You and Conrad were in love, you still may be. You don’t know if you love or hate him, but you want him back.

Requests are open!!

Inspired by “Get him back!” By Olivia Rodrigo👏🏻

A/N: this song is SO conrad coded and I hope to see this in season 3 because this would sure as hell be me. Anyways enjoy and sorry I haven’t been too active !!

—

—

It was perfect, for almost a whole year.

You and Conrad had grown up together, every summer at his beach house. Your siblings and family would joke about how you two were meant to be even if Steven didn’t like it sometimes.

Last summer, you two kissed for the first time and the bond became even more unbreakable. You two being the oldest, you always felt more connected but being in love only intensified that, for better or for worse.

You knew Conrad had a reputation with girls, being so up and down with them. You thought it would be different because you believed you were different. You didn’t worry at all.

It was after Susannah died when everything broke down. Everybody knew it was coming, and even though you tried to prepare that did nothing for you. When she actually died, shit hit the fan and everything went out the window that you had planned.

He had pushed you away, apologized, made love with you, and then broke you. You hated him so much, but you loved him too. You remember the last night you two spent together. It was at his house stargazing right before Susannah died. He had promised you he wouldn’t let go, even if it was a lie.

2 months later, the mid July heat sticking to your skin from all the way outside, you stared at Conrad across the room. He had a blue flannel on that made him look so damn good, even if you didn’t want to admit it. He was drinking a beer, and you remembered how it used to taste on your lips. You loathed it now.

Still, you wanted to make him mad. Sad. Anything to regret how he treated you.

Do I love him do I hate him? I guess it’s up and down.

“You’re staring again, y/n/n.” Jeremiah patted your back and you groaned, grabbing a red cup and filling it with whatever liquid would make you forget.

“I’m not.” You protested.

“He still loves you, you know.” Those words made you heave. If he still loved you, why did he do the things he did? You hated him, you had to. But when you looked at him, drinking his beer looking hotter than you wanted him to, it was clear.

If I had to choose, I would say it right now.

You then looked around for somebody, particularly Belly or Taylor. You had a plan, but you needed somebody for it. Once you found Belly who was a little tipsy, you smirked.

“Hey Bells, who was that guy you were telling me about?”

She smiles drunkenly and points to the Corner the boy was in. His name was Matthew. He was nice, very attractive. No Conrad, but certainly good enough to get his attention.

Belly and Taylor had proposed the idea of you talking to him earlier, to get your mind off Conrad. They liked you two together, but we’re smart enough to know how bad the situation at hand was. You didn’t like the idea at first, but now it sounded sweeter than ever.

I wanna get him back.

You walked over to the boy, who was conveniently right in Conrad’s eye line. Perfect.

“Hey! You’re.. Matthew right?”

He smiled at you, putting his beer down to face you. “Yeah, call me Matt though. Taylor and Belly mentioned you, earlier.”

“Classic Taylor and Belly for you.” You coughed up a nervous laugh. You were never good at flirting with boys. For 16 years, you struggled to look at Conrad without blushing, you weren’t a natural like Taylor. You and Belly bonded over that.

You suddenly felt sad, because you remembered the way Conrad used to kiss you. The marks he left down your neck and when you whimpered, he’d kiss the spot to make you feel better.

Then you just felt mad and spaced back in to the boy standing in front of you.

“You okay?”

“Been better.” You take a beer from the cooler after tossing your red cup to the side quickly.

“Hey.. maybe we could dance a little?” Matt suggests and you want to puke but that’s when you notice Conrad, looking straight at you with jealously in his eyes. It’s tainted his whole face, you couldn’t help but crack a smile.

I wanna make him really jealous.

You watched as he took a swig at his beer before walking away, and you knew you had gotten him. You look back at Matt with a smile.

“Of course.”

—

You had been talking, dancing, and getting bored for about 30 minutes now. You hadn’t seen Conrad in a hot minute, and you were getting antsy. You didn’t want to assume the worst, but he was probably having sex with some girl.

Jealously was spinning in you. Why was this happening? You didn’t even know where he was, what he was doing but your insides curled up at the thought of it.

Matt was getting more touchy by the minute, and you knew what he wanted but Conrad was no where to be seen. Getting bored yourself, maybe a little make out wouldn’t be so bad.

When you leaned into Matt, his lips tasted like beer, bitter beer but not like Conrad’s. Conrad’s lips reserved a taste only for you that you couldn’t get enough of. Heaven was when he kissed you, held you, gripped your thighs.

It was a swift movement that pulled you two apart, to show the man himself in front of you. Conrad.

“We need to talk, now.”

“Con—”

Before you could finish he was grabbing your arm harshly and pulling you away. Matt quickly pulled you back, and you suddenly felt embarrassed. For him.

Conrad was on quick fumes, little patience to none. He came close to Matt and he was taller than him, overtaking him greatly.

“Leave her alone, dick. Who the hell are you?”

Conrad laughed, “Her boyfriend.”

You gulped and Matt became hesitant to challenge Conrad any longer. He quickly ran away, not even sparing the two of you a glance.

Conrad looked back over to you and then gripped your waist, pulling you away from the crowd. You’d be lying if you said his touch didn’t set you ablaze, but you were too angry to care.

Conrad pulled you into one of the empty bedrooms, slamming the door shut. You rolled your eyes, sitting on the bed.

“Conrad—”

“Shut up.” Conrad slams you down onto the bed and you wince just a little bit. This would’ve been a turn on in any other circumstance but you couldn’t tell if he wanted to kiss you or hit you.

“Stop being dramatic, Conrad!”

“You think I’m enjoying this, yn? This thing we’ve been doing for 2 months? It’s hell and your off fucking other guys.”

You laughed, a fake laugh, “Me talking to other guys is fucking them? Seriously?” If anyone walked in on your two fighting, your faces inches apart like this it would probably look ridiculous.

Then, a smile cracked your lips, “You jealous?”

“This isn’t fucking funny, yn.”

“Well you were the one who told Matt your my boyfriend.” You protested. Conrad knew you could be stubborn, and bratty at times but he always found it cute. Not now.

“Your such a little brat, yn.” Conrad’s grip around your waist tightened on the bed and you whimpered around.

“Your the one who fucked us, Conrad.” he didn’t expect you to admit it in such a low and sad whisper. It caught him off guard.

Wanna make him feel bad.

“y/n/n..”

“No, don’t say anything. It leads back to where it always goes, Conrad. Just say it, you don’t fucking love me.”

“I don’t love you? You clearly don’t give a shit about us if your talking to other guys.”

“So you don’t love me? Or you do?”

He paused, “Do you?”

Cause then again I really miss him, and it makes me feel sad.

Conrad’s mouth was over your lips, fanning them. One word. He could be yours again.

“Connie..”

That was enough to have Conrad kissing the shit out of you. He left a trail going down your neck, no part being unnoticed. It was almost like he was worshipping you.

Moans and whimpers came from your mouth, but you didn’t miss Conrad quickly kissing the spots he had left marks, particularly the one that was already dark purple.

Your hands tugged through his hair, and he is face fell into the crook of your neck. The mood had suddenly changed, from wanting and needing to honest and pure fucking love. Love you had for each other.

“Take me back, please baby.” Conrad breathed out against your ear. You were so weak right now you prayed that you could keep it together.

You kissed the side of his head, as he was now cuddling up to you against the pillow. “Con..”

“I’m sorry, so sorry for everything. I fucked up, I know. I just had so much shit— and I know it’s not an excuse. Please, I love you. It’s been hell, i’m jealous, so fucking jealous.”

He traced patterns on your arms and you whispered sweet nothings into his ears. He was 5 again. So vulnerable, in front of you. You needed, wanted him too.

“It’s okay.. don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this out.”

“I love you.” You sighed in relief.

“Let’s go home Connie, okay?” You felt him nod against you.

It was a crazy night, that was for sure.

Oh, I don’t know, I got him good, I got him really good.

—

There you go!! Hope you all enjoyed it and I hope it fed you all because I can’t get this song out of my head. ;)

Wayyy longer than I expected btw omg<3

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #belly conklin #conrad x reader #team jeremiah #tsitp #love #summer love #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher fic #Spotify

[webslinger-holland]

The Sergeants's Senator | Prologue

Summary: The Bad Batch has a newly added member of the team who can't seem to stop asking questions.

Warning: none

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Senator

Type: Short Series

Word Count: 1.1k words

Series Masterlist

Note: In honor of the trailer dropping today, I have decided to release the first part earlier than anticipated! New chapters should come out consistently because the whole story is already written.

(THIS CHAPTER TAKES PLACE AFTER ORDER 66 AND DURING THE FIRST EPISODE OF SEASON 1 OF BAD BATCH FOR THOSE CURIOUS.)

The Marauder was flying silently through hyperspace with a final destination locked into the coordinates. The four remaining members of Clone Force 99 had just narrowly escaped Kamino, leaving behind one of their own. But luckily, they had gained another.

It was a little girl who was named Omega. She had taken an interest in Clone Force 99 upon the return of their mission on Kallar. It was later revealed to them that she was a clone just like them, which inclined them to bring her along with them as they fled Kamino and the newly established Empire.

Now, having just narrowly made an escape, Tech was flying the ship somewhere else. He put in the coordinates for a desolate planet and made sure to hold the wheel steadily as he steered. They'd be heading for Saleucami. Echo sat beside him in the co-pilot seat.

Behind the pilot's seat, Wrecker was sitting beside one of the control panels and Omega sat in the seat across from his. The two of them were talking quietly to themselves, sharing how exciting their escape had just been.

In the background, Hunter silently turned around in his place to exit the cockpit. He wanted to be alone, which meant leaving the others for a short time. Unbeknownst to him, Omega watched him walk away with curious eyes. She wondered if she should follow him.

Now Hunter walked into the backroom where their bunks were located. He lowered himself to sit on his own bunk, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his legs. He sat in silence even though a million thoughts and voices were filling his head.

In the background, Omega had poked her head into the doorway. She made sure not to be seen, but she wanted to see what he was up to. He thought a moment longer before reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a small device. His thumb brushed against the button, pressing it gently to activate the holo-photo.

From Omega's perspective, she wasn't able to see the face of the person in the hologram. She only saw the back of the person's head and the back of the long dress. Her eyes shifted upwards slightly to see Hunter's reaction.

For some reason, there were tears brimming in the corners of his eyes as he stared down at the hologram. His shoulders hunched over; his head drooping low until his chin rested against his chest. He clutched the device tightly. A broken sob escaped past his lips.

Just then, Omega's shoulders seemed to relax at her sides at the sight. She forced herself to take a single step into the room with the desire of wanting to comfort him. However, at the sound of her approaching footsteps, Hunter clicked the hologram off and stuffed it back into his pocket quickly. He sniffled once to hide the tears that nearly streamed down his face. He avoided eye contact with her.

"Who is she?" Omega inquired innocently. Her eyes shined with sympathy for him.

With some hesitation, Hunter quickly glanced at her through the corner of his eye. The walls he built started to come back up once again. He chose to not say anything and redirected his attention elsewhere. But Omega pressed on.

"She looks pretty," Omega's voice hinted at a small smile. She took another step towards him. She tried to meet his gaze, but he continued to avoid her. "Is she a princess?"

"Look kid," Hunter interrupted her. He released a loud sigh. "I don't really want to talk about her."

"O-Okay," Omega nodded her head understandingly. She wondered if he was just tired since it had been a long day. "Maybe some other time."

"No, I mean...I don't want to talk about her," Hunter reinforced his words. He looked her dead in the eyes. "Not now, not ever."

Although Omega had a million questions circling around her head, she thought it would be better to remain quiet in this particular situation. She gave a single nod of the head understandingly, choosing to drop the subject despite her curiosity. She took a step back to give him space.

Leaving the backroom, Omega went back into the cockpit to join the others silently. The door slid closed behind her. She flopped down into one of the seats, which earned a glance from Wrecker who sat in the seat beside her. She took her time to glance at each of the three clones sitting in the cockpit, wondering how much they knew about the situation with the sergeant.

"Who was she?" Omega inquired one final time.

Upon hearing her question, Omega noticed how Tech's shoulders tensed and his grip on the wheel tightened. She also saw how Echo had looked over to Tech as if expecting him to provide an explanation. Now turning to Wrecker, Omega saw the blank expression on his face and how his eyes stared off into nothing. They pondered her question in silence.

"Listen kid," Echo spoke up first. He looked over his shoulder from his seat. "It's an awfully long story. And I'm not sure if we should be the ones telling it."

"Hunter won't say anything," Omega said rather sadly. She shrugged her shoulders. "It's like he doesn't want to talk about her."

"Well, I don't blame him. It's hard to talk about what happened. He's still processing it," Echo defended.

"He's been processing for a while," Wrecker claimed with a groan. He tried to recall how long it had been since it all happened. "It's been two years already."

"Some wounds never heal," Echo replied to this sorrowfully.

"What did happen?" Omega pressed again. She only received silence from them.

For a moment, Echo thought about answering the question. The wheels were turning in his head, processing what kind of response he could come up with. But it wouldn't have been a simple one.

"Let's just say," Tech interrupted his train of thought. "Clones are not supposed to form attachments. And Hunter did."

"With her?" Omega clarified.

"That would be the only logical explanation as to why he has a hologram of her, isn't it?" Tech replied as his usual self. He received a sharp glare from Echo.

"Did he fall in love with her?" Omega wondered. The three clones felt their breaths catch in the back of their thoughts upon hearing the weighted question.

"It...depends on how you define love," Tech tried to convince her.

"Tech," Echo warned him with a hard look.

"Fine," Tech brushed it off with a roll of the eyes. "He did love her...in his own way."

"So what happened to her?" Omega asked sadly.

"Perhaps it would easier if we did tell you," Tech thought. He contemplated for a moment. "We do have a long journey ahead of us."

With that, Omega sat up in her chair with a beaming smile on her face. She leaned forward with anticipation, lowering her eyebrows onto the tops of her knees. She listened intently as the clones began to tell their rendition of the story that happened so long ago.

CHAPTER ONE HERE

Taglist:

@totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl

#the bad batch #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper hunter #tbb hunter #bad batch hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #tbb hunter x y/n #tbb hunter x senator #crosshair #tech #echo #wrecker #the marauder ship #tbb hunter series #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter angst #tbb hunter imagine #tbb hunter x fem!reader senator

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 12

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* References to menstruation, heavy flirting, talk of blood drinking, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: A budding friendship with your young mother gives you plenty of things to think over, but it's your relationship with Max that is growing the most. Notes: We are name dropping Gilded Age families and embracing our newfound historical fiction genre, folx! Please enjoy a photo of Dolly's teahouse as it exists today in 2023 as your weekly photo ❤ Apologies for any errors that I might have missed. I am a very sleepy girl after a week of seasonal chaos at work.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11

If yesterday's adventure to the dressmaker showed you anything, it was that the simple act of dressing and undressing in this time was going to be an adventure. Snagging a newspaper from a hollering newsboy on the street corner had told you that you were in 1885, and now – on your second day in October 1885 – the reality is setting in. Renee came upstairs to you after lunch to help you change in a walking dress, and while you didn't protest it did seem extremely unnecessary until you remembered that yesterday the skirts of your dress had dragged through the dirt for three blocks in downtown Newport. A walking dress, apparently, has a shorter skirt and no train. Which means no dragging in the dirt while you walk. And suddenly the seemingly ridiculous amounts of times that Gilded Age ladies changed their clothing during the day begins to make more sense: simply changing the outer shell of your outfit makes it 'suitable' for many different activities. It's still a little ridiculous, but less so than you had thought only yesterday.

"Renee, would you make sure that Mrs. Phillips is still available for our walk?" Annie asks as the maid helps her tie the laces in her stays before she slides the skirt over her head. She's been looking forward to this walk since yesterday, hoping to have some time to speak to another woman closer to her age that is not her mother about the budding relationship with Emmanuel. A newly made bride would understand, especially since they eloped.

“Of course, miss.” Renee helps Annie into the bodice that matches the skirt she has just put on, carefully looking each button in the back to ensure her mistress is comfortably and appropriately attired. She can leave Miss Annie to choose her own hat and jewelry as she wishes and curtsies politely before going upstairs.

******

“So…nice little outing planned with Annie.” Max ventures as he watches you carefully arrange your hair like Renee had shown you. You’re beautiful and it seems like this time only magnifies that. Or maybe it’s because there’s fewer distractions around him. “Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.” Frowning heavily at the mirror as you try to get this hairdo right, you glance up and to the side where Max is sitting a few feet away watching you. “I haven’t spent time alone with my mother since I was eighteen. And this…she is that person but isn’t that person at the same time. At this point I’m just thrilled we’re only walking the grounds and not in town.” Even though the grounds of Chateau-sur-Mer are much larger in this time, it’s still a relief. These are safe, secluded acres. The only people you’ll run into are your grandparents or their staff.

“Remember that even if she��s not the mother you knew, she’s the woman that will become your mother. It will be an interesting comparison.” Max offers.

“You know how much she loved the curried lamb we had for dinner last night?” The spectacular crown roast that Mrs. Taylor had presented was slightly different in looks than the roasted legs of the same animal that your mother had done when you were a kid, but the taste was deliciously nostalgic. “That was her recipe. That I remembered from being a kid.”

“That’s something of a paradox.” Max snorts. “You bring back the favored family recipe and in turn, it’s passed down to you.” You were right, time travel is weird.

“Time travel is bizarre.” You whisper, barely speaking for being aware of the possibility of being overheard.

“You’re telling me.” Max snorts, shuffling behind you and putting his cool hands on your shoulders. “I have some business with 'John'.” He tells you with a wry grin. “But I will be back soon and want to hear everything about your walk.”

“It’s so weird.” A small smirk tucks into the corner of your mouth. “I know neither of us has ever called him his real name, but calling him John just feels weird.”

“It’s like Rumpelstiltskin.” He jokes, finding the comparison hilarious.

“Maybe he is Rumplestiltskin,” you joke, sending the two of you into a fit of giggles just before a knock is heard at the door.

Renee waits for a moment before she enters the room. “Good morning Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, I hope your night was restful.” She nods respectfully and looks towards where you are sitting. “Miss Annie was inquiring if you were still free for the walk, Ma’am?”

“Of course, Renee.” You stand from sitting beside Max and smile, reassuring yourself that you can do this without punching a hole in the space-time continuum. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“I will let Miss Annie know.” She nods politely and then turns around to exit the room just as quietly as she had entered.

“Thank you, Renee.” Blowing out a breath, you lean over to kiss Max and flash him a thumbs up that is far more forced than anything else. “Here goes nothing.”

“You will have an amazing time.” He predicts softly. “Knock ‘em dead, Tiger.”

“What happened to my little ketchup packet?” You tease, kissing him one more time before opening the bedroom door. “We’ll be around the grounds if you need us.”

“Enjoy your time, my dear.” In reality, Max would love to be there with you, but he knows you need this time alone with the one who would one day give birth to you. He watches your skirts swish down the hallways and he grins as he remembers dancing with you last night after dinner.

At the bottom of the stairs, Annie is repining her hat in place in a mirror, and you stop for a moment of peace to just admire your mother. Always beautiful and always extraordinarily competent, she even manages elegant self-sufficiency in the face of a society that tells her to sit down and keep her mouth shut. It’s hard to watch her being so happy with Emmanuel when you know what’s to come, but you had bitten your tongue last night while she talked about him at dinner and you’ll bite your tongue today too. Seeing her happy again, even for a little while, is enough.

“I find myself positively - what was the phrase Mr. Phillips used last nigh? ‘Raring to go’ this afternoon.” She seems quite pleased with her use of the phrase and takes one last look before she turns away from the mirror towards you. “Oh dear, did the modiste not have a hat for you yesterday?”

“I admit, I did not know which hats would be best, so I didn’t choose any.” This is probably a huge faux pas but you know less than nothing about late 19th century hats anyway. It seemed easier just to skip it. Max, on the other hand, had acquired both a top hat and a bowler with glee.

“Renee.” Annie calls out to the maid. “Please fetch my brown crushed velvet with the flowers?” She asks. “And the pins to secure it. I think that would look stunning with your dress.”

Renee is off like a shot before you can protest, and back again with hat and pins on hand just seconds later. It’s astonishing how fast the vampires in this household can move when they’re not trying to disguise their nature.

“Yes, I thought the flowers would match.” The pale pink and white of your walking dress match the flowers and the color of the brown velvet compliments your skin beautifully. “It will be perfect.”

“I bow to your superior taste.” And since it’s about the six hundredth time in your entire life that your mother has insisted that you put on a hat before going out the door, you don’t protest. All those other times had been talking about winter hats keeping you warm, but it’s the spirit of the thing. “You’re very generous.”

Once the pins are set and Annie has adjusted to her liking, she clicks her tongue. “You must keep it. My gift to you. It looks so much better on you than it does on me.”

“As I said. Generous.” She has always been generous, as along as you’ve known her, and you reach out to squeeze her shoulder gently. “Shall we?”

“It’s a beautiful afternoon.” Warm for the season but it plays into the atmosphere beautifully. No need to bundle up. “Although I believe we will have snow soon. Winter in Newport is divine.”

"I hear it piles up on rooftops like icing on cake." It was something that Allison had told you just a few days ago, and the mental image had just stayed in your mind. Living there and replaying for you over and over like a present. "I'm looking forward to it."

“What a charming comparison! It does!” She laughs, clear and bright in the afternoon sunshine and loops her arm through yours. “Perhaps we will sip tea and watch it pile up before we convince Emmanuel and your dear Max to take us out for a frolic in it. Mr. Taylor has sharpened the blades of the sleigh. So much better than a carriage in snow.”

"I'll have Max makes us cups of his hot chocolate," you offer, almost conspiratorially. "It's the best I've ever had and he won't tell me his secrets."

“Truly?” Her eyes sparkle with mischief. “So he enchanted you with his chocolate?”

"Amongst other things." The question brings heat to your cheeks immediately as you step out the door together. "I wasn't sure about him at first, but we found our way together quickly."

“It wasn’t love at first sight?” She asks, curious about it since you are soulmates. She had always assumed you just knew.

"Max can be a bit...full of himself," you admit with a laugh. "I thought he was very handsome, at first sight. If that counts for anything. We did not start to find our way together until we found a shared love of dancing."

“I must admit…” your mother bites her lip. “I spied on the two of you last night. You move to beautifully together.”

"Dancing is a passion that we share, and it is something I am very grateful for." That is probably an understatement, but you're not exactly going to explain competition ballroom to your semi-immortal mother in 1885. That's just...it's too much to even think about. "With the party tonight, I think there will be plenty of occasion for you to dance with him as well, if you like."

"I had hoped that you would allow me to have one dance with your husband." She admits. "Although, I will anxious be awaiting the reactions from all the dancers when they see the two of you dance."

"It will be nothing they have not seen before with so many other couples." If you're honest with yourself, you're trying to remember everything you can about traditional, historical dances instead of the modern competition dances. It isn't much, but you're pretty sure you can muddle through if you couple that with everything you can remember from watching BBC period dramas. "And Max will be very glad to dance with you. I promise it."

“Are you still enjoying the status of newlywed?” She asks, the pace of the walk nice and slow as the gravel crunches under your boots.

“I am.” Almost to your own surprise, considering it came out of nowhere in a letter from your abuela and then manifested almost immediately in life. You’ve actually found yourself wishing it was real. “Max is very attentive. And very sweet.”

The grin she shoots you is knowing. "I doubt a newly married husband is just sweet." She hums. "I think he would be passionate."

“There has not yet…been an opportunity to be passionate.” It spills out before you can really stop yourself, and instantly you have burning hot cheeks all over again. “The marriage was so recent, you see.”

“Oh- so you haven’t-“ her brows lift in surprise and she bites her lip in embarrassment. “My apologies for prying.”

"How could you have known?" It makes perfect sense to assume that a married couple has had sex in any time period. But you don't want to have to explain to your mother about your last ex or anything of the bruises that relationship left on your soul.

“Blast.” The curse comes out silently. “I was hoping to talk with another woman near my age.” She admits quietly.

“About…intimacy?” Even though this has the potential to become very awkward, you just can’t say no to her. Not to this young, excited version of your mother who is just beginning to learn about life.

“Not exactly intimacy.” She hedges slightly. “More how you knew Mr. Phillips was the one.” She confesses. “I feel like Emmanuel is my soulmate but I don’t know.”

“We share a mark.” In this specific way, you know you’re lucky. Having a birthmark meant nothing ever had to happen to you for you to find your soulmate. Some people in history have deliberately injured themselves in order to have scars. “He saw it on my skin and showed me his matching one. We were…quite lucky that it was that simple.”

“Is it….visible?” She asks, looking over your neck and hands. It’s not as if much skin is exposed to the public in your dresses.

“It was. In what I was wearing at that time.” Although, it does occur to you now that keeping your birthmark hidden from your mother might be wise. Otherwise she will put the pieces together later on. “It is very easy to cover, so it was unusual for it to be visible. But…a good thing. It ended up to be a very good thing.”

“I feel that Emmanuel is my soulmate.” She confesses with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. “I cannot explain it, but my heart- it jumps when he kisses me.” It might be scandalous to admit that she allowed him to kiss her, but she so completely enthralled with him from the moment they met.

It might be cruel or just insensitive to point out to her that her physical response to the kiss could just be lust, especially since in this time you’re pretty sure ladies weren’t even supposed to kiss a man until they were engaged. “Do you have any marks of your own?” You ask instead, realizing that you actually can’t remember if your mother had any when you were a child. Those memories are still…unpleasantly hazy. Even when so many other memories are now crystal clear in your mind.

“No.” She shakes her head sadly. “None of my own. Because of my…parentage, my skin heals without blemish. I only have one scar on my leg from my soulmate, and it would be completely inappropriate to show it to Emmanuel.”

“Perhaps you could ask him if he has scars instead?” Filing away that tidbit of information in your mind, you note to yourself that it fully explains why you never seemed to get the typical scratches and scars of childhood that your friends all did. “If you feel that he could be your soulmate…” Which, of course, you know he is but you can’t say so. “It might be a way to bridge the topic. Privately, of course.”

“What a good idea!” She exclaims. “He would not think me too forward, you think?”

You can’t help but smirk, looking over at your mother and tilting your head in amusement. “I think if he has already kissed you more than once, then being too forward by asking a question is probably not on your list of concerns.”

“I- you are correct.” She bites her lip and looks worried. “He probably thinks that I am unsuitable. Being so free.”

“Or perhaps he thinks that you feel as passionately about him as he feels about you.” Not really willing to get into the whole restricted sexuality thing of this time period, you shrug. “It is not such a terrible thing to be passionate.”

“My parents have never thought so, but others are not so accepting.” She huffs, rolling her eyes at the way the world is.

“Then I find myself in firm agreement with your family.” Which isn’t odd at all, when you consider that they’re your family, too.

“They are considered progressives, if people really knew their thoughts.” She clutches your arm. “But my parents do not speak about politics in social settings.”

“I understand it is considered very impolite.” At least, you’re pretty sure you read that in a book once. You hang onto her as tightly as she hangs on to you as you walk together, strolling down the length of the grounds first. All the way down in the direction of what is now a rose garden.

“That doesn’t mean that some do not talk politics.” She snorts. “Plenty of men try to do business deals during the social gatherings.”

"Of course they do." Nothing about that surprises you, but the woman your mother is at this point in your life seems disappointed by it. "But that only makes it easier to pick out the sort of men who find it impossible to relax and enjoy themselves. And those are the type of men to avoid, in general."

“You are right.” She agrees. “Hopefully Emmanuel is not that type of man. He doesn’t seem to be, but I have not been to many social gatherings with him.”

“How long have you known him?” There are vague memories you have in your head of a story about your parents being soulmates, but it is old and faded and feels wrong. You know they weren’t, but at some point you believed otherwise. Pushing away the knowledge that this is the woman who put you under the spell that changed those exact memories, you refocus on your mother and her smile. It’s exactly the same as when you were little — bright like sunshine on a summer day.

“Two weeks.” She admits, slightly embarrassed by how fast her feeling developed for Emmanuel. “We met at the Season opening ball.”

“It took me no longer than that to realize what Max means to me.” It was significantly less, if you’re honest, but your story is a bit odd to tell. Not that you’re itching to tell anything of the sort right now. “They say that with soulmates, sometimes your heart knows right away.”

“I feel that way with Emmanuel.” She confesses. “If he is not my soulmate, I will be horribly embarrassed. Because my feelings for him are already so strong. Especially because he’s human.”

“Being human is not a crime or a personal failing,” you remind her with a hint of amusement in her voice. She has no idea that she’ll raise you in such a human way. The irony of the moment is thick. “He must know that you are different, doesn’t he? It seems…very important for him to know.”

“He knows.” She nods quickly. “He- it is very fortuitous that he does not mind. He actually was curious about my father’s nature.”

Curious. It will be that curiosity that dooms everything, but you have to swallow that knowledge and not say a word. “It is fortunate to find open minded people in the world,” you say instead.

“Yes.” She nods. “I know it must have been a shock for you when you realized your husband’s nature?”

“It certainly was.” That night in the sitting room is burned into your memory, and you don’t think it will ever leave no matter how long you live. “But I have never felt anything but safe with him. There are so many stories of men whose dispositions change when they are transformed. If that was true of Max, then it has been a change for the better.”

“How interesting.” She shakes her head. “I must admit, I do not meet many of my father’s other offspring. Not for many years.”

“I imagine it must be very different for you.” You observe carefully, not wanting to overstep in anyway. “To have so many sort of…step-siblings? In a way?”

“No.” She shakes her head and smiles softly. “They have been there before I was. I am jealous in a way.” She admits. “They share a bond I do not, with him. Will never share.”

“But you share a bond with your father that they never could, as well.” You point out, squeezing her arm gently as you walk. “I am sure some of them must be jealous of you for that same reason. To be his child through more than the sharing of blood is remarkable.”

“I have often wondered.” She admits. “Though I have no desire to be a vampire. It is bad enough I crave rare meats during my menses.”

The admission is enough to make you snort, and you cover your mouth to feign some kind of ladylike manners before all-out laughing behind your glove. “Forgive me,” you manage, barely getting back your composure after a few seconds. “I was just…not expecting you to say that. At all.”

She giggles herself, aware of how horribly inappropriate it was and she’s glad you aren’t uptight. “If you beg forgiveness then I must as well.” She hums.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” You promise her as your mutual laughter subsides. “I just never want you to think I’m laughing at you.”

“Even if you were, don’t friends laugh at each other?” She asks, still giggling.

“I suppose they do.” With her arm around yours it is a stark contrast to your childhood, but no less happy. She leans into your side as any close friend would and it makes you eternally glad that you fucked up that protection spell in such a way that it sent you straight back to your family. “Does that mean we are friends now?”

“I believe we are.” Annie decides with a grin. “We will be the best of friends.”

“I truly hope so.” At least, you think to yourself as you smile at her on your walk, for as long as it lasts.

“When I have a daughter, I will name her after you.” She decides with a pleased look on her face. “Dolly is a delightful name.”

“It…isn’t my given name.” Suddenly last night’s lamb recipe seems like nothing in the face of…becoming your own namesake. But still, you tell her your name. The name that appears on your birth certificate and all of those other things. “Dolly is…is what my family calls me.”

“You must think me so foolish.” She snorts, shaking her head. “Your proper name is gorgeous. I can see why your mother chose it. Was it a special name for her?”

“She—” As soon as it’s on the tip of your tongue you almost groan, realizing what the truth of the situation is. “She said it was her best friend’s name when she was young.”

Thinking about it for a moment, Annie sets her chin and nods. “Then I will carry on her tradition and use the name for my daughter.” She promises you. “You and Max can rest assured.”

“Then we should name our daughter Annie.” It was already in your head for the very clear reason that it was your mother’s name, but somehow making the pact with her like this is all the sweeter. “And we will carry each other together always.”

“So we shall.” The scenery in the gardens is nearly forgotten as you walk, arm in arm together. “I am looking forward to our trip on Emmanuel’s personal train car. Can you imagine? A car all to yourself?”

“Where do you wish to go?” It’s cool to you to be traveling in a real Pullman car for a completely different reason — what she views at the height of technology is something you’ve only read about in history books. “I’m sure he would agree to anywhere you choose.”

“Anywhere.” She say dreamily. Willing to go anywhere with her beau. “Do you have a particular destination in mind?”

“People speak so very highly of New York.” And in your own tone, you’ve enjoyed the city immensely. So much so that the idea of seeing it in the 1880s is nearly irresistible.

“Ohhh we should go!” She latches onto the idea immediately. “We can dine in the best restaurants and shop. Their modistes are amazing. Perhaps we can find something truly special for the ball.” She leans in conspiratorially, “I am hoping that Emmanuel proposes.”

“I would not be surprised if he did.” Wracking your mind, you can’t remember now if Yayo had said that your mother had been engaged or even married to her soulmate, but knowing what will eventually happen means you have to force a smile while your mother beams sunnily beside you. Unfortunately you’re sure it looks fake enough that it’s worth changing the subject. “But even if it does not come soon, the ball will still be lovely. Does your mother throw one at the same time each year?”

“Always.” She laughs. “Samhain was when mother and father met.” She explains. It is a special time of year for them.”

“It is something very special to celebrate, then.” In fact, you earmark the fact for yourself as well. That is why Mrs. Taylor jump so quickly in the idea of the coven having a Samhain masquerade. “They are very fortunate. To have such an enduring love story.”

“Yes.” She huffs a sigh and rolls her eyes. “But that means that a lot of expectation is placed on my shoulders too. Being their daughter.”

“You will have whatever story is best for you. Your life is your happiness, not theirs. Whatever they may think.” Realizing you e just given your mother advice — something which is probably definitely considering messing with history, you catch yourself and smile. “At least, that is what my dear friend says of her family.”

“It is my life.” She agrees. “So far, my life has been what they have wanted, but I cannot always please them and my own heart.”

“You will know when the time is right to become captain of your own ship.” You assure her, knowing full well that there will be multiple times in the future when it will be necessary. “But rushing towards it helps no one. Enjoy the time you have with someone else at the helm.”

“It is one of the reasons I have yet to marry.” She laughs slightly. “That and I wish to marry my soulmate.”

Clearing your throat slightly, you glance at her and consider for a moment that ultimately, she will end up losing Emmanuel. She’ll meet your father and That means that at some point, her view on soulmates will change. Or at least expand. “Soulmates are not the only good spouses in the world,” you venture. “My dearest friend at home…she has been blessed with deep love, but not with her soulmate.”

“I don’t disparage them.” She assures you, looking almost horrified that you might think that of her comment. “I just-“ she sighs. “I have heard mother and father’s story so many times, I wish to see what my own soulmate would be like.”

“My only wish is for your happiness.” The clarification feels necessary, as you walk through the chilly October afternoon. “However you may achieve it.”

“The same to you.” She promises. “Perhaps life will be picture perfect. No one can tell the future, not even my father.”

******

There is something to be said for the fact that the ‘ball’ your grandparents are throwing tonight is not, apparently, full scale. This is a dinner dance, of sorts. It isn’t four hundred people streaming all over the property — it’s one hundred and twenty guests precisely and they are all arriving to celebrate Annie’s birthday. When you were a kid, your mother’s birthday was the movie of her choice at the local theater and family dinner out, so this is…a remarkably bigger celebration. The guests begin arriving at ten o’clock, streaming into the house in their fine gowns and shimmering jewelry, and you and Max are trying so hard to catch names. Wetmore. Reed. Slater. Ives. Vanderbilt. Astor. Goelet. Hunt. Roosevelt. It’s all a whirlwind. When Emmanuel is announced, your mother glows and goes to him immediately, and you can see the expressions of approval on your grandparents’ faces. “Is it weird that I like him a lot?” You murmur to Max on the other side of the room. Cornelius Vanderbilt had just been shaking his hand and Max looks so puffed up and proud about it. “That’s not…betraying my father’s memory? Right?”

“It’s not, Queenie.” Max reassures you softly. “He’s a good man. I fuckin’ hate knowing what happens.”

"Me too." At least Max understands that. He feels it right along with you. "It doesn't help that they really seem to adore each other."

“That might be why it took so long to find your father.” He offers, not sure enough about Annie to believe that she would become loose by the day’s standards after destroying her soulmate. “I don’t know if I could ever find someone if I was in her shoes.”

“Good thing for you that I’m not going anywhere.” Squeezing his arm gently with one gloved hand, you smile up at Max softly. “You’re stuck with me, Mr. Phillips.”

“Mrs. Phillips.” He grins back down at you, getting a kick out of calling you by your supposedly married name. “How are you enjoying the dinner dance so far? This has to be every girl who watches Downtown Abby’s wet dream, right?”

“It’s pretty close to the top of the fantasy list,” you admit, warm and pliant under even the tease of being called Mrs. “Although, when we get back from New York we’re invited to a ball at Beechwood. And after touring all the mansions with Allison I’m kind of dying to be able to say we were on the Astor’s guest list.”

“As you should.” He hums. “He wants to talk with me about business. I can’t imagine the insight this man has.”

“William Backhouse Astor wants to talk business with you?” It’s not that you doubt Max in the least, but your eyes go wide in surprise. “And Cornelius Vanderbilt was just shaking your hand a second ago.” The grin on his face is so pleased that it’s borderline shit-eating and you stifle a laugh. “You’re loving the Gilded Age, aren’t you?”

“These are the fucking Bill Gates and Steve Jobs of the times, babe.” He snorts. “I’m over the damn moon. That MBA is paying off in spades.”

“I’ll have to figure out how to get us here deliberately and maybe we can visit from time to time.” He would love that, and you could see your family sometimes. It would be remarkable if it ever worked.

“You would love that. Pop back and visit your mom when you need that connection.” He’s not unaware that you feel different about having your mother as a friend, but you are also cherishing every moment you have with her.

“Maybe we can visit some of the Phillips clan, too. Track them down wherever it is they’re hiding in history.” He lost as much as you did but hasn’t had the blessing of a long-lost grandparent, and you want nothing more than for Max to have every single happiness that you have. To be able to share that with him.

Regret flashes in his eyes and he blinks it away. His shoulders lifting casually as he brushes off the hurt that his family had caused him. “Might be interesting. See how many skeletons are in the closet.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” The situation with Derek might be behind you now, but your shoulders still drop and your expression changes completely when you see the hurt in his eyes. If you could time travel instantly and change it so you said nothing at all, you would do it immediately.

“You didn’t upset me.” Max promises, sliding his hand around your waist. “My own hurts are not your fault, you make everything worthwhile.” He drops a kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, too,” you hum softly. It’s dawned on you that Max doesn’t say the words outright very often, but he says it in different ways all the time.

“Of course you do.” He chuckles and nods towards the atrium where the buffet table is laid out. “Shall we go see how Mrs. Taylor’s table looks before I whisk my wife to the dance floor?”

“You’re enjoying calling me that, I think.” Or you hope he is, b because you enjoy hearing it.

“I get to try it on, see how it feels.” Max teases you shamelessly.

“Oh yeah?” He leads the two of you toward the Great Hall with all its overflowing tables and beautiful gas light. There are punch bowls full of highly alcoholic punch but also crisp, cold water and Max pours out two glasses of water so no one will attempt to be polite and offer punch. “And how are you liking it?”

“It’ll do.” He teases and sends you a smirk. “I don’t mind it all. Not at all. Think it should be permanent.”

“You don’t have to say that just because I want you to.” Admittedly, though, you hope to the gods that he means it. The idea that he might makes you feel like that little bird in your chest could take flight all over again.

“I’m not.” He tightens his hold on your waist and looks into your eyes seriously. “The only thing that I worry about is you dying and leaving me alone.” He confesses quietly. “But I want you to be mine. Not to posses you. You aren’t a toy, but to cherish you.”

"Haven't you heard?" Somehow his hold on you is even tighter with the corset laced neatly around your waist. It isn't too tight, but it hugs you so well that his hand feels like it's going to slip right through your many layers and burn right into your skin. "Apparently you're the person who can stop that from happening." Person. Vampire. There's no need to be specific especially with so many party guests around. The thought has been on your mind since yesterday and you've been trying to summon up the courage to talk to Max about it.

“You didn’t seem too fond of the idea when I told you.” He reminds you quietly. He hadn’t wanted to push, so when you seemed resistant to it, he had dropped the subject, although the thoughts of only having a short time with you had started to bother him.

"I've been thinking about it more lately." It's not the time for the full discussion and you both know that, but at least now the topic is open again. "Maybe we can talk it over the next time we have a little privacy?" There won't be much of it coming any time soon, not while you're traveling with your mother and Emmanuel starting tomorrow afternoon, but at least there is the comfort of your bed for any conversations that should remain just between the two of you.

“I would love to talk to you about it more.” If possible, Max seems to glow at the prospect of you prolonging your life and he pulls you close. He would kiss you, but it’s frowned upon in public, even with married couples.

When he bends his head slightly but stops halfway, you recognize the gesture immediately — he did it earlier today and received a word of advice from Yayo that public displays of affection are considered rude in this time. So you do something you’ve seen your abuela do several times since your arrival — and present your cheek to him with a sly smile. A kiss on the cheek, apparently, is fully acceptable. And if that’s all you can share right now without being subject to comment, then that’s fine. It’s more important to keep a low profile right now and not become the subject of gossip.

“Tease.” He pouts playfully, letting his lips linger against your skin. “You do know husbands can spank their wives in this time, right?” He only says this because you know he would never lay a hand on you in anger. He would rather Evan drive a stake through his heart again.

“You wouldn’t.” You’re absolutely positive of that, but since you can tell that Max is enjoying teasing you, you give him a wink instead. “Wives are also supposed to have separate bedrooms. Maybe I’ll just insist on that.”

“You wouldn’t.” His lower lip immediately comes out at the prospect and he shakes his head. “You enjoyed your temperature controlled Snuggie every night.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.” But he is so very adorable when he pouts, and teasing is a tone that becomes you both. You are at your lightest and happiest when you are able to tease each other. “Besides, as newlyweds, this is technically our honeymoon.”

“Yes it is.” He hums, pulling you closer. “So perhaps I can take a walk with my wife in the gardens so I can kiss my bride?”

The warmth in your cheeks is essentially a fire now, with the way he keeps harping on the titles of bride and wife. “I think we could probably steal away for a little while after supper,” you hum, having to look away or else you’ll get lost in his eyes entirely. To the rest of the room you just look demure. “Yayo won’t mind.”

“Of course he won’t.” Your grandfather had taken him out to find you a proper ring, stating that it wasn’t acceptable to have you with a bare finger, even if you had eloped. The ring is extraordinary and there’s a sense pride knowing he can give you something to bring back to your proper time.

“I wish I could say we should go sit in the teahouse but it hasn’t been built yet.” It was something of a surprise to discover the miniature cottage does not exist yet, but when you had casually mentioned to your mother in your walk that it would be a darling place to take tea, she had jumped on the idea and promised to mention it to her mother.

“I still find it amusing that you are responsible for the tea house.” He snorts, having cackled when you had told him about the conversation. “I wonder how the fireplace is coming along?”

“Who knows? I doubt they’re looking for us, all things considered. Yayo and Mrs. Taylor will know better.” Still, you can’t help but smile at the irony of being responsible for the building of your own favourite retreat. “It seems I’m responsible for my mother’s favourite lamb dish, the teahouse, and my own name.”

“I wish I could have named myself.” Max snorts. “Would have picked something way better.”

“I like your name.” This time it’s your turn to pout, just to continue the teasing tone of the night. Although this teasing makes you lower your voice. There hasn’t been much physical intimacy between you, but the more nights you share a bed, the more you want to share that with him. “One syllable makes it easier to moan.”

“Oh Maximilian.” He creates a high falsetto and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, it’s really great.”

“It’s Max, and that’s no more ridiculous than Dolly.” You point out with a soft snort.

“Doll, baby doll, good girl.” Max grins lasciviously at you and winks. “All of them will sound amazing when they are muffed against your neck or between your thighs.”

“How am I supposed to be proper with you talking like that?” At this point you know it just encourages him to be scolded, but you don’t mind. Not really. Not when you’ve quickly found yourself daydreaming about him in all sorts of very graphic ways.

“I guess the one good thing about all these layers is that no one would ever know that you are wet.” He hums quietly, his lips against your ear.

“Except you.” For this precise moment, you will not give even a second thought to the fact that your grandfather can certainly smell that too. He doesn’t know it’s you, and for all you know half the ladies here are hot and bothered. For you, all that matters right now is Max.

******

After the night is winding down, the morning sky is starting to peak over the edge of the horizon. Luckily, the drapes are heavy and can block out the sun so that the house can sleep the day away after dancing all night. Max loosens his tie as you sit down at your little table to pull the pins for the flowers and sparkling beads out of your hair.

“Suddenly I understand why all the ladies who dresses like this had maids,” you sigh. Exhausted but happy is a wonderful way to go to bed, and the pre-sunrise breakfast served to the remaining guests has warmed you through entirely.

“For tonight, you will just have to have your husband suffice.” Max has shucked his jacket, leaving his vest buttoned and his shirts first three buttons undone with his tie hanging around his neck as he walks towards you. Watching you in the mirror as he moves closer.

He really has no right to be so drop dead handsome. It would be unfair if he wasn’t your soulmate. As it is it’s an enormous distraction, as you can feel him walking toward you but only see his clothing in the silver-backed mirror in your vanity table. His frame is obvious in that reflection but not the face you’ve become so fond of, so you turn around on your stool to smile at him softly. “You were wonderful tonight, by the way. I overheard some ladies gossiping about you after we danced.”

“Yeah?” He smirks and tilts his head. “What did they say? Jealous of how we danced? That I enjoy whisking my bride around the ballroom?”

“There was a little speculation about our passionate elopement,” you tell him, an amused little grin blossoming on your face. “Apparently the way we dance is almost too sexy for the 1880s.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles and waggles his brows playfully. “If they only knew what we could have danced.”

“I think doing an Argentine Tango for these people might give them all heart attacks.” It’s…Something to think about, though. Imagining the deep, very obvious intimacy of that kind of dance with him.

“Very provocative.” Max murmurs, reaching out and cupping your face. “Especially because you would just have to wear that nightgown thing to dance it properly.”

"Chemise." His hand seems to cover half of your face with no effort at all, but you melt into the gesture just as if you were a flower that he was inspecting in the garden. "It's called a chemise, and those are see through as you well know."

“It’s my favorite goddamn thing you wear.” He snorts and bites his lip as he looks down at you. “Still, you couldn’t wear the bulky dresses. Maybe put some pants on you. Really give them a sight to see.”

"It's your favourite because it basically doesn't exist." He had been nearly speechless last night when he came into your shared room to find you sitting up in bed in the thin white slip, which despite being fairly ornate is definitely not sturdy in any way.

"i'm not saying you should walk around naked," Max huffs with a grin on his face. "But you should walk around naked." He had though he had done fairly well in not staring and his hands hadn't strayed during the the night. He deserves bonus points for that. Whoever thought skimpy was better, obvious never appriecated the sexiness of innocently sheer and covering.

“So should you.” Your last bits of jewelry go on the vanity table, stripping away the trinkets that have been weighing you down all night. It isn’t that you necessarily had been planning to take the next step forward with Max, but the opportunity has just sort of…fallen into your lap. And after the way you’ve been feeling all night, you actually don’t want to waste it. “We both could? Just…around this one little room?”

Max stares at you for a moment in shock, unsure of what you mean. "I guess you won't get offended if I'm sporting wood?" He asks finally, chuckling at himself for being so damn wary when he was a fucking man-whore in his previous life.

“That’s more of a compliment than an offense.” The tension in the room has risen a little, not from anything more than interest and wanting. Desire has been thick in the air between you all night. “Only if you want to, handsome. No pressure or anything.”

“Baby doll, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” Max groans, unable to resist being a little bit of that former playboy while discussing intimacy with his soulmate. Even if he has displayed a lot more restraint and consideration than anyone who knew him before would ever expect, you’re gorgeous and he wants you.

The freedom you’ve felt in this time doesn’t necessarily boil down to just one factor, but since the biggest thing holding you back has been removed from your path to happiness you have felt lighter than air. Smiling up at Max from your place in front of the vanity, you tilt your head slightly to one side and take in the sight of your stunning soulmate. “Maybe…” You end up biting your lip again, nervousness and excitement washing over you. “You could show me?”

It’s instantaneous, his fangs springing out of his gums and his eyes taking on a lighter, yellower hue as his desires take hold. His face doesn’t shift, but his jaw clenches. “You have to be sure.” He nearly growls. “Once I touch you…”

The intensity of desire a vampire has for their mortal soulmate has been explained to you. This sort of reaction isn’t totally unexpected. But knowing that Max’s desire will never spill over into rage makes all the difference. “I’m sure,” you promise him, nodding once as you meet his bright eyes.

Breathing isn’t necessary, but Max exhales roughly. His entire body hardening at the thought of finally being able to touch you like he’s imagined as you dream in his arms. “What do you want me to not do, my little doll?” He asks. “Tell me now, please.”

He already knows that any kind of name calling is off the books, which your certain is one of the reasons that he so consistently uses sweet little pet names for you. What you haven’t discussed previously is specifics of your sexual history, which is why you are so, so grateful for this moment right here. “No restraints,” you tell him honestly, knowing that the old chestnut of using a tie to keep hands out of the way will have you spiraling instead of moaning. “And no degradation. Those are the hard lines that I can’t cross.”

“No restraints, no degradation.” He can quickly agree to that, having no want to make you feel embarrassed about what happens between you. “Biting?” He groans out, knowing he can be shot down. “Off limits?”

“No fangs until we get a chance to talk?” The topic hadn’t been touched since it was mentioned in passing early last night, and now is hardly the time to stop everything for a heart-to-heart.

“O-okay.” That part will be a little more difficult for him, especially at that sweet vein in your inner thigh, but he has enough restraint to abide by your wishes. “Regular teeth only.”

“We can talk about fangs for next time.” Your hand cradles his jaw softly and you give him an encouraging smile. There will absolutely be a next time. As far as you’re concerned, this morning is the beginning of something.

“Nothing you don’t want.” Max reassures. “But I will be showing off my oral skills in other ways.” He smirks. “I’m more than just a pretty set of fangs.”

“You keep saying that.” The teasing hum is back in your voice. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to prove it.”

“With the dress on, or off?” Max’s eyes gleam in challenge and it takes a conscious effort to make his fangs retract. “Lay down on the bed, my sweet Dolly.”

“In a bustle?” The skeptical look on your face says all it needs to, and you stand from your place in the bench. “I am not explaining to Mrs. Taylor that we crushed a silk evening gown because you couldn’t wait to eat me out. Help me get out of this thing first.”

In the blink of an eye, Max is beside you, spinning you around to start untying your gown. Eager to get to your skin underneath.

It had been fun to wear all night, right up until this moment. The clasps and hooks holding your bodice in place all have to go. Bodice. Skirt. Corset cover. Petticoats. Layer after layer lifts away until all that remains is the corset laced snuggly around your waist and the chemise beneath it. Even your stockings have already been rolled down your legs, tossed aside to be forgotten about on the rug until later.

Max grins and pushes you down onto the bed playfully, still fully dressed and winks at you. “Now, what was that about needing to prove something?” He teases.

“If you want to be teacher’s pet, I’ll make up a little grading system for you,” you tease, remembering what your Yayo had said about Max being kind of a suck up in college.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” He strips off the tie and tosses it down. “Let’s see how fast I can get graded.”

In just your chemise and corset, the effect of having Max lie you out in that giant four-poster bed is sort of like the most romantic pornography of all time. The stiff, starched collar from his shirt has been rejected along with all the other trinkets from his suit tonight, and while his jacket might have technically ended up on a chair it certainly wasn’t graceful. He looks like the charming hero of some Victorian novel that’s about to fully debauch himself and can’t wait to take you with him. And it’s better because it’s you he’s talking with you. “Just because you finish the test first doesn’t mean you get the best grade, Max,” you warn him in a teasing singsong.

“Baby doll, you haven’t seen what my tongue can do.” He promises, flicking it out of his mouth and its slightly longer than normal. Another positive to being a vampire.

One knee at a time, Max settles into the valley between your thighs and carefully pushes the hem of your chemise up your legs, doing his best to control the urge to just tear the fabric to get at your core as quickly as possible. When you swallow a breath and lay back against the pillows, you nod and caress his shoulder. “I’m sure,” you promise him.

“I know, baby girl.” He coos. “You just lay back and let me make you see the stars.” He knows that Derek didn’t treat you right, but he’s determined to erase that man’s touch on your mind, body and soul.

Without modern panties — and even without the ridiculous crotchless pantaloons worn in this time — as soon as your shift is pushed up and the cool night air brushes your skin, the difference in a vampiric lover is obvious. There’s no unpleasant memory of hot breath on your body or of searing hot touch making you squirm away. Max’s cool skin is a balm to wash away the bad memories, replacing them with promises of the future. The first touch of his lips and longer tongue to the apex of your sighs earns him a sharp inhale from you, but just as soon as it comes you sigh and relax into the bed a hair more. Even just a kiss over your clit is enough to tell you how different a lover Max will be from anything you’ve had before.

“Fuck you’re so sweet.” Max groans, pulling away from your clit to just look at swollen flesh. “I can feast on you all night.”

A breathless laugh comes from deep in your chest, and you run one hand through his short hair. “It’s morning, love. You’ve got all day, instead.”

“I’ll do it through the day and into the night.” Max snorts, smirking at the idea even if you can’t see it.

“I believe you would.” In fact, you don’t doubt it for a second. Especially not with the way he dives back in for another taste that has your head falling back on the pillow all over again.

Max is cocky when it comes to sex, but he’s got something to prove. He wants to show you how good it will be with him. Wanting to make sure you know that your soulmate will lick your pussy anytime you want.

It’s been years since the last time you had a head between your thighs, and even then you were made to feel like it was an enormous burden. Max descends on your clit like it is his favorite treat in the world and he has been starved of it. Ravenous for the taste of you and insatiable in his hunger.

Max feeds off your sounds, loving the soft, restrained moans that you are trying to keep quiet. Wanting to make it to where you forget anyone else is in the house, he squeezes your thighs and pushes his tongue deep inside you.

Your moans pitch up immediately, a sharp gasp bursting out of you like an explosion and your fingers in his hair tightening instinctively. This has been one of your favorite intimacies, oh so long ago, and even though you’ve told yourself that it wasn’t worth missing, you have. The trust involved in giving someone else complete access to your soul is nothing to turn up your nose at, after all.

Max moans into your flesh, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal as he tastes it on his tongue. You are fresh off your cycle and he twitches in his pants at the thought of tongue fucking you to soothe your cramps.

It isn't restraining, the way Max has his forearms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open for that mutual enjoyment as he dives deeper and deeper into your cunt. It's cradling you. Treasuring you. And it's so damn good. The fingers of your free hand tangle in the sheets on your other side but you're not sure you won't need them to stifle your own moans. The amount of pressure he's putting on your most sensitive areas is perfect and every flick of his tongue is another sharp jolt of pleasure that has your chest heaving in the corset still tied around your torso.

He can’t see your face but he can feel the beating of your heart through your body. Smell the sweet blood swimming in your veins and it makes him ravenous. Intent on making sure you scream his name when you cum.

Every pass of his tongue over your core, every probe and every lick ticks your heartbeat up that much faster until you feel like your head is swimming and you know your thighs are shaking. The very direct way he's chosen to tongue fuck you as if his afterlife depends on it almost makes you feel like you're laying on a choppy sea and he's the only thing keeping you from sinking.

Large hands start to squeeze your thighs. Stroking from your knee down to your hips. Encouraging you to give in to him as his tongue works harder and harder, the ability to not breathe working in his favor as he doesn’t let up to gasp for air.

It’s almost overwhelming because he never has to let up. He dives in over and over again, lapping up every bit of dripping wetness that you have for him and drinking it down like a man starved but he never has to pause or even shift in his attention. It has you building up and up and up on a mountain that feel like the peak of pleasure is impossibly high but deliriously tantalizing to reach. The moment that sends you into hazy bliss though, isn’t the typical oncoming orgasm. It’s when Max wraps his lips around your swollen clit and sucks — sharp and with a groan that reverberates through your whole body. Your back lifts off the mattress and you barely manage to stifle half the keening sound you make, going boneless and letting your legs open as wide as they will go. Just begging him to do it again.

Max groans, growling slightly and his entire soul seems to brighten as you come apart for him. Body vibrating as he absorbs your pleasure as if it were his own, maybe it is. Maybe this is what it’s like to be with your soulmate. Consuming him completely as your thighs shake around his head.

It comes on all at once, mere minutes after he began, and if Max was aiming to bowl you over with sheer skill then he should take the near wail of his name as you start to cum as a signal that he has done extremely well. It washes over you all at once, bending your back and making your legs squeeze his head tight, which only earns you another groan.

The only thing missing is the sight of your face as you cum. Max closes his eyes and imagines it, his face starting to shift in his excitement. Bones knitting and becoming heavier, sharper. His growl deepening although he makes sure to keep his fangs retracted. Not wanting to pierce your delicate flesh. Perhaps one day you would let him bite your lip and lick the blood from your cunt.

Unexpected and rumbling, the depth of the growl between your legs makes your eyes shoot open. Still darkened with lust, when you look down at Max to find him transformed between your thighs, something even more unexpected makes your cunt ache at the sight of someone so powerful unraveled and needy for you. "Do it again, love." You can hear the ferocity in your own voice, the demand and the need. Desire and a type of desperation that you've never felt before. The need for more. "Again. Just like that."

Max’s yellow eyes flicker, darken even more to a burnt amber as he tightens his grip on your thighs. Not enough to hurt you, not even at his most powerful would he ever hurt you. His snarl of obedience bounces off the walls of the room and his eager tongue buries itself back in your cunt to carry out your surprisingly arousing order.

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #time travel #witches #vampires #mysterious inheritance #it's the gilded age bitches!

[jae-bummer]

It's Only Lunch

Request: I just binged through My Idol Season 1&2 within a day and I’m in love with the way you write!! Then I saw your requests are open and I was even happier, cause I’m in desperate need of some idol!DK x nonidol!reader fluff :( I don’t have anything specific in mind you can do whatever you want, it can be angsty too if you want, just please give him a happy ending. There’s just not enough DK on this app in my opinion :( I hope you’re doing good and have a great day and if you ever actually write this then tysm!! 🩷🩵

Pairing: Seventeen DK x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"Hey, Y/N."

Looking up from your desk and towards the door of your office, you smiled. "DK, what brings you here?"

As soon as his name left your lips, you could see a bashful expression cross his face. Glancing down to his shoes before looking back up to you, he offered a tentative smile. "I just happened to be in the building and thought maybe you'd like to grab lunch with me?"

Blinking back in surprise, you cleared your throat. Technically, you and Dokyeom were coworkers, he an idol (obviously) and you working in the lower levels of management at Hybe. You had been part of the production crew for many a Seventeen project, so you had grown familiar with the guys over the years.

DK, more often than not, was the member that seemed to naturally gravitate toward you. When ordering lunch, passing out water, or resting on a break, he seemed to subconsciously seek you out. His shyness was adorable your first few run-ins, but once you realized he may have had a crush, you were already in far too deep yourself.

"I brought my lunch today," you managed, the words tasting sour in your mouth. "I was hoping I could take it at my desk to work through some things I'm behind on."

It wasn't a lie. You did need to catch up, but you also couldn't admit that hanging out privately with DK scared the crap out of you. He was gorgeous, side-splitting levels of funny, and completely unattainable. You knew if you spent more time around him, it wouldn't be long until you caught feelings.

"Oh," he chirped, beginning to nod. "Yeah, of course, I understand."

"Maybe next time though?" you asked, desperate to see that smile light up his face again.

"Of course," he hummed, giving you what you hoped for, but not nearly as genuine. "I'll stop by again when I'm back in the building."

And that's how the new routine began. At least once a week DK would show up in your doorway and you would think of a new and creative excuse not to fall in love with him.

Nearly a month after his original visit, you were typing out a relatively important email when your favorite nuisance showed up.

"Y/N," he drawled, leaning against the door frame. "I think I know your answer, but I'm here anyway."

You smiled sheepishly, ducking your head in an attempt to cool the heat scorching across your neck. You knew he would likely catch on to your MO, but you hadn't realized how embarrassing being confronted would be. "I'm sorry, DK. Things are so busy with your upcoming promotions and-"

"Can I at least grab your lunch for you from the common area?" he asked, tilting his head. "It'll save you a few steps."

"Sure," you nodded. He was incredibly sweet, which made it suck even more. "It's in the purple bento box."

"You got it!" he smiled, giving a quick spin before launching down the hallway.

You really did need to suck it up and either tell him to quit coming by or accept his advances. Just because you were a coward didn't mean that he needed to suffer. You were better not being perceived by anyone at his level of attractiveness. It would only be a matter of time before you somehow did something mortifying and turned him off forever.

After plugging away at the email for a few more minutes, you furrowed your brow and looked toward the hall. Surely, he should have found your food.

Just as you were about to hit send and head out his way, he appeared again. Holding your bento, his face was twisted in confusion. "This is yours, right?"

"Yeah," you said slowly. "Why?"

"Well," he sighed. "I looked for it everywhere in the fridge but couldn't find it. I moved everything around and was about to give up when I noticed it out of the corner of my eye. It was sitting in the communal sink, empty."

"Empty?" you muttered, standing. Crossing the room toward him, you took the lunch box from his hands. Sure enough, there was not a trace left of the food you had packed that morning. "I bring the same box every day. Who would eat out of it?"

"Did someone new start?" he asked, tilting his head. "Someone could have done it by mistake?"

"I guess," you sighed, dropping it on your desk. "I guess I can order in..."

"Why don't you let me go grab something?" he asked. "We can eat together in your office, so you don't even have to step away."

The hopeful look in his eyes crushed what little self-preservation you had left. This option really provided no wiggle room for an excuse. "I don't want to make you go to all that trouble..."

"No trouble at all!" he smiled, already turning away from you.

"Wait," you sighed, teetering on the line that you had drawn for yourself. "Let me send this email and I'll come with you."

"You will?" he gasped, but immediately schooled his features. "I mean, sounds good."

Mentally preparing yourself to rip off the Band-Aid, you may have spent a bit longer on the email than you had intended. It was difficult to think clearly with DK wandering around your space, peering at every framed picture and book you had haphazardly stacked around.

"Ready?" you asked, after reading through what you had written for probably the thirtieth time. At this point, you would just hit send and hope for the best.

"Born ready," he smiled, his eyes disappearing into crescents. "There's this really cute noodle place right down the street. I was thinking we could go there?"

Your brain fished around in its recesses for the restaurant he was talking about. If you could recall correctly, it was a notorious spot for couples. The thought made you swallow, hard. "Sure."

"Perfect," he hummed. "Madam?"

Offering his elbow to you, you hesitated before taking it. So, this was really happening. You were going to break down and go on a not-date with Dokyeom. He had labeled it as just "grabbing lunch," but why did you feel like it was so much more?

As you would realize later, it was because if you gave an inch, Dokyeom would take a mile. It wasn't long into your walk before he started complaining about it being sweltering outside. The weather was only 24°C, so it was hardly balmy. After peeling off his jacket, he quickly switched up to holding your hand.

Glancing down in surprise to see his long fingers intertwined with yours, you looked back up to him, wide-eyed.

"Is this okay?" he asked cheerfully.

You gave a silent nod before fixing your eyes in front of you again. You were so screwed.

.

Against your better judgement, lunch with DK was a blast. Being around him was so effortless. As you talked over jajangmyeon, it was easy to open up and show sides of yourself that you only reserved for those closest to you. You didn't realize you were even doing it until after you already had, making you go into an overthinking spiral of whether or not you were sharing too much.

In the end, it didn't really matter because Dokyeom seemed to like it that way.

When he returned you to your office, he gave you a long hug before insisting on coming by again soon. After everything, you sat behind your desk, a bit numb in the aftereffects of all things DK.

He hadn't asked for your number and aside from holding your hand, he really hadn't made any advances. His body language was overwhelmingly flirty, but you weren't sure if that's just how he was naturally or not.

"Accept it for what it is," you muttered to yourself, shaking off the cobwebs in your brain. Even if things didn't cross over into "more than friends" territory like your heart was already considering, just having him as a close friend would be fulfilling enough.

No matter how many times you told yourself that DK was just displaying normal, friendly behavior, it was all thrown out of the window when he showed up again the next week.

Carrying a bouquet of what looked to be a mix of wildflowers, he strode up to your desk and sat on the edge. "Now, we've made remarkable progress last week when you had no other options but to have lunch with me. Can we defy the universe and have it happen again?"

You let out a surprised snort. "Maybe if you gave me an idea of when you were coming, I'd be more prepared to leave the office."

"Where's the fun in that?" he asked. "These are for you by the way."

"I would have been only a little heartbroken if you came into my office with flowers that were not for me," you smiled, taking them from his hands.

"So, are you setting me up for a gentle letdown?" he asked, quirking a brow. "Or are you wanting to try the new burger place a block down?"

"I really-"

"Need to finish up this project, so I'm working at my desk," he finished with a soft smile.

"But this time, I really do mean it," you laughed.

"You didn't before?!" he gasped.

Shit. You didn't want to let that little factoid slip. See, this is what happened when you let your guard down around him.

"I may or may not have been avoiding your lunch invitation for a few weeks," you winced. "But you're intimidating!"

"On what planet?!"

"Earth!" you groaned, hiding behind your fingers.

DK sighed before sliding off of your desk and facing you. "I'll forgive you if you come eat with me."

"Well, that's not fair," you pouted.

"Fine," he harrumphed. "I'll just have to take it into my own hands like last time."

"Like last time?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

Covering his mouth with his hand, DK stood as still as a statue.

"You know," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "You're not going to get out of this by hoping I forget about you because you're not moving."

"It would work if you were a t-rex," he muttered, dropping his arms to rest at his side.

"Spill it, Seokmin," you sighed.

"I accidentally ate your lunch last week," he said quickly.

"I'm sorry," you laughed. "You what?"

"When I was grabbing your bento out of the fridge, I had a lightbulb moment," he whined. "I thought if you didn't have your food, you'd be forced to eat with me...so I just...inhaled it. You make excellent bibimbap by the way."

You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or smack him. "You set me up!"

"Because you were avoiding me!" he exclaimed, sending an accusatory finger your way. "You said it yourself!"

"Because you're intimidating!" you repeated.

"How?! How am I intimidating and why is this news to me?!"

"You're incredibly dreamy!" you blurted. "And I was scared that I was going to fall for you, alright?"

DK took a small step back as if you had actually chose to smack him. He kept quiet as his wide eyes blinked at you.

"Please say something," you whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose.

At a painfully slow rate, a smile spread across his lips. "You think I'm dreamy?"

Plopping into your rolling chair, you leaned against your desk, and hid in the fortress of your arms. It was not physically or mentally possible for you to be more horrified.

"Y/N!" DK cooed, immediately stepping around to where you were sitting. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he rested his chin on your head. "That is the cutest thing I have ever heard."

"I hate it," you muttered into your sleeves.

"I don't," he chuckled. "And if you haven't figured it out by now, I think you're pretty dreamy too."

"Really?' you squeaked.

"You think I offer to buy lunch and flowers for Mingyu once a week?" he asked. Nuzzling his face into your hair, he laughed again. "I guess we were both hiding something from each other."

"I can't believe you ate twice just to get me to go out with you," you muttered, finally sitting up.

"You're worth the stomachache I had afterwards," he smiled. "I was scared that if I tried to kiss you, the nerves would make my stomach pop."

"Please tell me you didn't eat my lunch again today?" you joked. DK's lips fell into a flat line as he looked away from you. "You didn't!"

"I was prepared to do whatever I had to do!" he gasped. "Now are you coming with me to lunch or not?!"

"Yes," you laughed, shaking your head. "I absolutely will."

#lee seokmin #dokyeom #dk #seventeen #svt #seventeen seokmin #seventeen dk #svt dk #seventeen dokyeom #dk x reader #dk fluff #dk fanfic #dating dk #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fluff #svt x reader #svt fanfic #seokmin x reader #seokmin fluff #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom fluff

[sadboytournament]

ROUND TWO

Propaganda

Read more added due to the length

Anthony Lockwood: (via @its-your-mind)

Simon Petrikov: (via @transgendersimonpetrikov) "...

Simon. Simon is not initially introduced as Simon, rather is introduced as Ice King, an insane and Really out of it "villain". Throughout almost all of the first 3 seasons, you ONLY see him being weird and getting beat up a lot but under all of it is incredibly sad for reasons he can't distinguish aside from crushing loneliness. Until the Christmas special, they pull a COMPLETE 180 on ice kings character and reveal his backstory - and just to shine some light on this, up until this point in the show, Finn is the only CONFIRMED human in the show. All others are assumed to be extinct. Simon's/Ice King's backstory reveals a few things to the main characters and the audience that makes the characters see him in a new, sympathetic light - he was a human antiquarian with a fiancee (named betty) who just so happened to put a cursed crown on his head as a joke to amuse betty. And then boom! He's cursed. Unlike some other, admittedly limited amount of characters, however, after putting on the crown, he does not immediately go insane. It happens over the course of a few years (which in itself implies he has insane amounts of willpower, even still coming through with Ice King given that the crown tells its users to freeze the whole world with themself inside) .

So, he's cursed, and betty supposedly left him, as that's to what he's known. He assumed he scared her and she ran away and doesn't love him anymore, and spends years grieving over that. But in the few years after putting on the crown and before fully losing his mind, he has to take care of a girl after a goddamn war (where the climax is a detonated mutagenic bomb that makes radioactive zombies and shit) that he found crying in the middle of the street. So, if his mental state was already declining BEFORE, it sure as hell is now because he has to wear the cursed crown more and more to protect himself and this girl and the effects of it clearly show every time he puts it on in flashbacks with himself in Clear distress over the effects of it . So after a while he is scared for himself, and, to quote him, "I fear my thoughts are no longer my own". So then he begrudgingly leaves the girl he cared for over the course of several years before he goes fully mad and loses himself. So then aside from some mentioned stuff that happens before his insanity fully sets in (like being hypnotized which surely did not help his already deteriorating mind) and then for a thousand years he's just pretty much Gone.

In season 4 episode 25, "I remember you", he goes to marceline (the girl he cared for, though he doesn't remember that) and asks her to help him write a song to draw in the ladies. I won't go through the whole episode, but the song they end up making is not anything like that - he took over notes and pages from a scrapbook and Marceline found some he wrote before he fully went mad while desperately trying to get him to remember who he was, and they turned the notes into a song. There is a lot of crying from marceline, meanwhile Ice King has zero fucking clue what's going on there and just thinks they're having fun. The entire episode is up on YouTube, and I would recommend watching just to get the idea.

Near the end of season 5, he gets a brief moment of lucidity and return to his former self, and he makes a time portal to say sorry and goodbye to betty, and she jumps through only to discover that without the crown Simon is dying. He says later in the episode that he'd rather Die than go back to being Ice king. She wants to find a way to help him so she gets him turned back into ice king so she can find a way to cure him, with her going insane by gaining magic in the process (by proxy of mms, which is a whole thing itself).

Series finale rolls around, he's finally back, but in a chaos deitys "stomach", which reverted him and betty back to their sane, non magic selves. Their moment is short lived by the "stomach" closing in on them, about to crush them to death. They've seemingly accepted their fates, and embrace before their impending deaths, but they're given a way out, betty staying behind despite his pleas and using the original wish state of the crown to wish Simon safe and thereby fusing with the chaos deity and leaving. The next scene is Simon breaking down and crying where she previously was.

So, 12 years pass between the finale and the spin off, and he's just absolutely tired with everything. Hes a 20th century man frozen in time and thrown into into new world after living 1000 years insane and sad without the love of his life with him and he has to deal with that. He is constantly barraged with people talking about a story he wrote when he was insane, saying that it was great, wishing he'd write more, etc etc. Even saying he was cooler when he was insane. Still grieving betty, he tries to Actually Perform A Ritual That Could Destroy The World just to see her again. It goes wrong and the 2 main characters from the story he wrote while insane pop out of his head. After a bit, he finds out that they're not fiction and instead a universe planted in his head . Their magic was stripped from their world when he was reverted back to himself and since he's wallowing in so much misery he decides to find a way to go Back to being insane and commit the equivalent of suicide and perform ego death once again for people he just met because he felt his life was worth so little that serving any purpose even if detrimental to himself would give himself a meaning to live. Just as he's about to finish this, he finally gets to talk to now-chaos-deity betty, and she gets it in his head that his life is worth living and then sends him off to live his life after an emotional scene of them finally ready to let go of their losses..."

#tumble tournaments #the sadboy tourney #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #simon petrikov #Adventure Time