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#cos they thought i was naming him after seasons
sagechanoafterdark · 1 month
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Shoot Your Shot, Cupid
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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!
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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.”
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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
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multifandomgirl08 · 5 months
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To Constantly Be Away [Mini Verstappen Series]
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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.
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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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taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie
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garbinge · 11 months
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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​
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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.
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untitled-tmnt-blog · 8 months
Text
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!
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starsandhughes · 8 months
Text
Penalty Box Series— Lake House Shenanigans Edition
22/23 SERIES MASTERLIST
yourusername
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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
trevorzegras @/yourusername your cry baby?
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
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stealsteels · 10 months
Text
No Control - Part 2
Part 1 Part 3
Warnings: explicit, dubcon, sex pollen, violence
Word count: 3386
---
Considering his obsessive nature, it was out of character for Adrian to completely forget about your mutual understanding of exploring the possibility of sexual adventures together in the near future. Your bi-weekly meetings with the team were eventless and he didn’t pay you any special attention, leaving you disappointed and heartbroken if you had to be honest. 
He didn’t ignore you either – that would have been some sort of attention. He was polite, sometimes enthusiastic but mostly his usual self focused on the things in his head. The rest of the team had long ceased mercilessly making fun of him after understanding they had absolutely no effect on him, in addition to the fact that Harcourt had shown obvious favoritism for him during your monthly online meetings with her.
“Here you are,” he said the next time you saw him at the headquarters formerly used by his old team with Peacemaker. He handed you a Lululemon bag with your washed and properly folded clothes. “Your clothes.”
“Why does he have your clothes?” said one of your team members. His name was Josh, and he was the blandest guy you’d ever met.
“I know this great dry cleaner,” Adrian said with no hesitation. “And I offered to take some of her clothes with stubborn stains.” It wasn’t like the usual string of lies he hid behind when he was nervous about his secret identity. This sounded both practiced and very natural at the same time.
You mumbled your thanks and took the bag from him. And waited for the whole meeting for him to look at you, a quick, knowing glance, a small smile, anything to indicate that he remembered his last promise to you, but nothing.
Weeks passed. And while the seasons haven’t changed, days were shorter and the weather was colder now. You went to your day job grudgingly, waiting a whole week to see Adrian and hoped for an interaction and then returned back to your apartment disappointed and sad. You didn’t want to see anyone else – you didn’t have many friends in Evergreen anyway.
It wouldn’t be a complete lie if you said you did see him occasionally if you were one of those people who thought dreams were real. You had dreams about him often, and they did nothing but frustrate you. Every time you were with him in various but all equally boring settings. The small storage house you had your weekly meetings, his house, and sometimes the park in your hometown. He would be his usual gorgeous self, ignoring you but sometimes staring at you invitingly but they were dreams and there were always unseen obstacles that prevented you from doing whatever you wanted to him.
Whatever you wanted. That’d been his promise. Sometimes you remembered the way he’d said that, how he’d whimpered and grunted as you’d gripped his dick in the most mundane moments and shivered head-to-toe right in the middle of the supermarket or in your car. 
You finally had enough one Friday evening and decided to give your obsessive brain some well-deserved free time by going out to drink with your co-workers. You didn’t really like them but they were good drinkers and didn’t expect anyone else to keep the conversation alive.
You downed three glasses of red and forced yourself to laugh at their jokes until 10 pm and then excused yourself, refusing the offers for a car ride. It was nice out for October and you wanted to walk. So walk you did and your treacherous thoughts wandered to him again. Ugh, him, you thought with self-disgust. This was getting pathetic. You could hear his voice in your ears. “You think that’s enough, or do you want more?” he said, not in a sexy way.
“I said, is that enough?”
What?
And then the unmistakable sound of a fist against flesh and delicate bones rang in your ears. Your eyes caught the teal suit under the weak streetlights. Vigilante. Have you finally managed to manifest your wishes?
He was holding this guy by the collar and his raised fist was about to assault him again when you involuntarily gasped his name. Not his real name, thank god.
Surprised, he turned to look at the source of the call, which his victim obvious thought was an opportunity not to be missed. He threw an equally loud punch right directly at Adrian’s face and proceeded to run away while Adrian howled in pain and crouched on the ground, his hand clutching his own face.
“Fuck, are you okay?” you shouted as you ran near him.
“What do you think? Fuck! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“I–I was surprised.” You sat on the cold asphalt, next to him and put you hand on his shoulder. “Are you hurt? Who was that guy?”
“None of your fucking business!” Yeah, he was mad. “And stop touching me,” he added, shaking his shoulder free of your hand.
Your lower lip quivered slightly and your throat tightened. He disliked you – that was it. That was why he avoided and ignored you. He must have been disgusted by your persistence that night and gave you that promise to shut you up.
“Oh fuuuck!” he whined and finally let himself fall on his knees. “Fuck, I think he broke my nose.”
“Let me see,” you said, holding the edge of his mask between your fingers and trying to pull it up.
“What? Don’t… fuck! What’s wrong with you?”
“I was going to check your nose,” you defended yourself, getting slowly angry yourself. The front of his mask looked dark and wet, with blood, no doubt.
“My nose is fine!”
“You just said it was broken. And it’s bleeding.”
“Aagh! Okay, it might be, but you can’t remove my mask in the middle of the street without my consent.”
He was in pain, maybe that was the reason for his stupidity. “Adrian, there’s no one here.”
“Stop fucking saying my name. Who the fuck is Adrian? I don’t– I’ve never heard–” 
“Okay, come on. Get up. If you’re so scared about getting caught, maybe you shouldn’t sit in the middle of the street.”
He tilted his head to the right. “And whose fault is that?” he nearly shouted in a nasal and high-pitched voice. “You put me in great danger. You should have known better to not distract someone in a fight!”
“You weren’t in a fight,” you said as you struggled to pull him up by his arm. “It was all one sided.”
“Until you came along,” he said in a strained tone. Was he in pain? “How does it feel to be the savior of a criminal?”
“It feels great,” you mumbled. God, he was heavy. And warm. You wanted to check his nose and maybe his other parts since he seemed to have more injuries.
“I guess I have to thank you. Every now and then it’s good to take a punch and practice your skills by letting someone you’ve been tracking for months escape.”
“Are you being sarcastic?”
“No. I’m thanking you.”
“Hey,” you said when he started taking big steps to get away from you. “Where are you going? We need to fix your nose!”
“Leave me alone. I need to find that guy.”
“I’m coming with you.” You started running after him until he turned back very abruptly and stared at you through the red visor. He took a menacing step toward you and for the first time you felt uneasy with him.
“Why were you here? Were you stalking me?”
“Wh–no! I was out drinking with some friends and walking back home.”
“You shouldn’t walk home at this hour.”
“Thanks for your concern. Care to take me home?”
He thought for a while. “No. Just walk fast, I have things to do.”
You didn’t want to annoy him more and put yourself in a more pathetic position in the process by being persistent so you did what he ordered and started walking back home. After turning to a street for the third time at the same time with Adrian he looked back at you again.
“Are you following me?”
“I’m going home,” you said between clenched teeth. “You know it’s this way. You took me home before. But I’m sure you forgot all about that.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He didn’t sat anything after that but kept looking at you. You could hear his heavy breathing. He tilted his head to the side again and you were sure he was going to say something. Something important but he said “I need to find him,” and ran away.
You stood for a while, confused and for the hundredth time since you’d stayed in his house that night, disappointed. You’d felt like as if you’d manifested this chance meeting with your obsession but real life didn’t offer things like that and he was out of sight now.
Oh well. Maybe this wasn’t meant to be. He’d certainly seemed very into you when you’d touched him in his car and when he’d ripped your clothes of in his house but all this pollen talk and you being sick had been a turn off for him perhaps.
You took only a few steps when you heard someone running and panting and in a few seconds Vigilante was in front of you again.
“What happened?”
“Cops,” he said between big gulps of breath. “The fucker must have alerted them.”
“Well, run then. Why are you waiting?”
He was still panting while leaning on his knees with his hands. “Can’t… The a station’s in the opposite way. They’ll see me.”
“You can come to my apartment,” you said, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay…okay, let’s go.”
But he didn’t move. You’d never seen him like this and it worried you. You took hold of his bicep and nudged him, which had the desired effect and you started to run.
You had to lead the way since Adrian obviously had no idea how to get to your building from these dark alleys. You really needed to start daily running, after only a few minutes you were already out of breath and felt your insides tightening. The faint sounds of a police car and shouts of the cops gave renewed your stamina and you managed the last sprint to your building with Adrian at your heels.
“Where the fuck is the elevator?” he asked once inside.
You threw him a meaningful glance, and he responded with a childish whine but climbed the five stories of very steep stairs with no further complaints. His pants were now punctuated with grunts and whimpers as you unlocked your apartment’s door – the sounds he made had to imply an injury but only a small part of your thoughts was concern.
You pushed him in and got inside. After triple locking and chaining the door you leaned back against the wall and joined Adrian in the process of catching your breaths. Your lungs were burning and a prickling pain covered your legs.
You looked at Adrian as he removed his mask to reveal messy black curls which needed a trim. His brows were knitted, his lips were parted and under his nose there was bit of half-dried blood but his nose seemed fine.
He didn’t break his glance as he took off his gloves and let them fall to the floor. You half-expected him to scold you for distracting him and letting that guy get away because he did look mad. But instead he pressed you against the wall further with his body and kissed you.
There was no build-up, no slow mingling of lips and hot breaths – he opened your mouth with his thumb on your jaw and immediately started exploring your mouth aggressively, allowing you no control. Your surprised moan quickly turned into a pleasured one, which earned a quiet chuckle against your lips. Once you licked the blood on his upper lip and tasted iron something snapped in you and you forgot you lived in the civilized world.
Your hands were everywhere, pulling his hair and at his suit, trying to get him naked but failing, trying to take control of the kiss but failing again. Your desperation and clumsiness amused him as much as they did turned him on. He thrusted his hips against you urgently and you responded with wrapping your legs around his waist.
His lips travelled to your ear and his wet whisper made you shiver. “I’ve been thinking about this for months.”
“Why didn’t you do anything then?” you whined and strained against him to get his hardened cock against the sweet spot between your legs.
He ignored your question. “I jerked off every night thinking about you. Begging me to fuck you like you did that day. Naked and on your knees. Fuck, if I reveal more you’d be scared witless.”
You were anything but and still trying to reach his bare skin. You kissed and bit the spot where hic neck met his shoulder to ignite him. He groaned, a wonderful, guttural sound and carried you to your bathroom until you warned him and told him it wasn’t your bedroom.
He thought about it for a while. “We both need a shower anyway,” he said and opened the door. Inside he put you down on the floor gently and turned on the faucet in the shower, trying to get to the temperature he wanted. You worried if he wanted you to take an iced cold shower again.
“I’m not taking a cold shower this time,” you said.
“Who said anything about cold showers? And why are you still dressed? C’mon, strip.”
He said it so casually but the hidden dominance rang in your ears. Usually, you’d feel shy to get naked first and think it should be a double act but the flashing image in your brain of being completely exposed while he was fully clothed in his Vigilante suit left you a brainless mess.
When he was finally happy with the water’s heat, which by the way filled your small bathroom with steam, and turned to look at you, the only thing you were wearing was the earrings you were taking off.
“Shit,” he said.
“That’s not flattering. Or kind.”
“Neither are the things I’m going to do to you. Now get in the shower.”
The water was wonderfully warm and a great relief to your aching muscles. You were reaching out to your shampoo when Adrian let himself in and you were momentarily paralyzed by the sight of him. You couldn’t decide whether to fuss over the large bruise on his ribs, kiss the freckles on his shoulders and arms or sink to your knees and take him in your mouth like you dreamed of for weeks.
He, on the other hand, had other ideas. His hands and mouth went straight to your breasts, with no hesitation. It was a whole bunch of squeezing, pinching, kissing and sucking but in what order, you had no idea.
“Adrian…oh fuck, Adrian.” You held on to his soft, wet hair to keep yourself on your feet. He had one strong arm around your waist to keep you where he wanted. “Okay, that…that’s enough.”
“Why?”
“I’m–I don’t know. I’m just kinda sensitive. Okay, I have sensitive tits if you must know. This is driving me crazy.”
The last thing you clearly saw was his smirk. He went back to his assault and you did go crazy. You couldn’t hear anything besides your echoing whimpers. Your hips now moved and rolled on their own volition. You tried to ride his thigh, anything for a little friction but he made up his mind about wanting to see you even more desperate. As desperate as the last time.
When you couldn’t take it anymore, you took his and guided it between your legs since you already knew that he wouldn’t let you touch yourself.
You were surprised by his lack of accuracy for a while. You tried to guide him to your clit without being too obvious as you didn’t want to offend him. Soon enough, though, you realized it was quite intentional and in the following minutes, you finally hands-on experienced how cruel Vigilante can be.
You became a babbling mess just like he wanted but when you realized begging would get you nowhere, you tried another approach, violence – pulling his hair, clawing at his back, leaving not-so-gentle bites on his lips and chin.
“I knew you were a feisty bitch,” he said between giggles. 
That gave you some encouragement to give him a small bite at his neck, which turned out to be a hard one. The sound he made was the best one he had done until now, there could be no argument about that. It was half a whimper, half a groan, filled with surprise, pleasure, and pain and rendered mind-blowingly effective by the ringing echoes from the bath tiles. You opened your eyes and saw his face, eyes shut tight, mouth open and teeth bared – combined with that sound, you could almost cum on your own, without needing his crucial touch.
Almost. Suddenly he pushed you harshly but his hands stayed on your shoulders, and his expression was no longer playful at all. You could see the very dark outline of your teeth on his neck and it’d only been seconds. In a day, it would become something seriously nasty with no chance to cover it up.
Then you were flipped over and bent over at a very uncomfortable angle. The wet bath tiles didn’t give you any support but you did your best – he wasn’t going to be accommodating about your comfort after that little display. His hands gripped your hips greedily and not too gently and without any more preamble, he slid inside you slowly.
Once fully buried, he pulled you against his chest and kept his arm under your breasts while whispering in your ear.
“I’ve been thinking about this. Every fucking night.”
“Yeah?” you managed to say. It was already difficult to breathe from all the steam. Now you were feeling fuller than ever and Adrian had got you pinned against him – the word overwhelmed wasn’t enough to describe your situation.
“I jerked off a lot thinking of you. I couldn’t wipe the image of you in my car, squirming in my lap.”
He was still being annoyingly slow, so you tried to roll your hips to get him properly moving. “Do you like to make women beg?”
“Nah, that just extends to you,” he said in a strained voice. Good. You tried to double your efforts but his arm around you and the hand gripping your hips became even more solid.
“Will you touch me if I beg?”
“Nope,” he said, still gritting his teeth but still cheerful. 
It came to a point where your body didn’t feel like it belonged to you – and you were delirious enough to feel possessed. You were thoroughly trapped and couldn’t do anything to relieve yourself. You knew if you tried to touch yourself, it would end with more merciless teasing.
“You know, most women can’t cum without clitoral stimulation. But I guess…ah, fuck, I guess you wouldn’t know with your lack of experience.”
“I have experience,” he said tersely.
“Hmmh, I don’t think you do.”
“I don’t need to touch you.”
“Fuck yes you do, I’ve never come from penetration. I think I’d know my body better than yours.”
“Uh-huh,” he said noncommittally and his hand on your hip started adjusting the pouring water.
“And, yeah, maybe I don’t know yours that well,” you said breathlessly. “But I don’t think you’ll be able to hold out that long.”
“Yeah. Can you open your legs a little for me?”
You smirked, even though he couldn’t see it. That’s how easy it was.
“Okay, I think we’re ready,” he said and lowered his arm around your chest while his other hand brought the smaller showerhead, now spraying water with a decent amount of pressure in front of you.
You had no time to react. It would be too much. Not now, not when you were overstimulated and desperate as fuck. Not when…
“Adrian, wa–”
But it was already there, and it assaulted every nerve in your body, making it impossible to move, think, or breathe. You were only faintly aware of the raining water on you and against you.
The second you went out of your shock and started whimpering loudly, he started to move. He was done being slow and fucked you with hard thrusts in a fast rhythm, groaning loudly in your ear. Your walls contracted almost painfully now, and this time he was merciful and lowered the showerhead but didn’t stop fucking you. Once you caught your breath, though, he turned it against your pussy again, not letting you close your legs and widening your stance with his feet.
Through your second orgasm, you focused on breathing and nothing else, not even standing upright. You were already secure between his solid body and his arm around your waist but it was getting difficult to breathe in the warm steam and the tightening in your cunt that paralyzed your whole body.
“Is that okay?” he asked again, whispering in your ear, and you nodded. He kept planting tiny kisses and bites until you had enough. He pulled out, not listening to your nonsensical protesting sounds, and finished on your back with an animalistic groan.
As he washed your back and helped you get out of the tub, you were sure your brain was fried completely. This was the new you now, a mindless but satisfied mess. You were only slightly aware of being wrapped in a towel and when you opened your eyes the next time, you were sleeping in your bed, lying on your side, hugging the bunched-up covers to your chest fiercely.
You still had your bath towel on, though it’d slid to your waist, and your hair was still wet. It was dark and quiet inside your bedroom, only to be disturbed by very little light and noise from the street. You turned around to cuddle into Adrian. You remembered him putting you in the bed, covering you up and sleeping next to you after mumbling good night, but the bed was cold and disappointingly empty on his side.
You removed the still-moist towel tangled with your legs and pulled the covers to your chin, trying not to feel sad. This was bound to happen. You’d actively pursued a guy who rejected and ignored you, and acted standoffish earlier. Maybe this was for the better. You had finally let him out of your system. And if he really couldn’t stand you so much that he couldn’t stay with you for a few hours after some intense shower-fucking, then maybe he wasn’t the right guy for you, even for a fling.
You went back to sleep, feeling more relaxed and decisive but still heartbroken. 
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 7 months
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Sebastian & Co. - Riddle Rosehearts (Twst) 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.
Warnings -> Passing mentions of decapitation
                                                                                                   
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🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯•♡•🔯
🐈‍⬛ 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 Meyrin 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 Meyrin 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. Meyrin 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.
🧯 Baldroy 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 Baldroy 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. Baldroy 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 Finny 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!
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writingwithcolor · 5 months
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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
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chelsea-xxx2003 · 4 months
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Classmate
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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.
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elcpsstuff · 6 months
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get him back! // Conrad Fisher
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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
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webslinger-holland · 2 months
Text
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.
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(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.
Taglist:
@totally-not-your-babe @jedipoodoo @gyllord @roam-rs @totallyunidentified @redheadgirl
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wardenparker · 4 months
Text
Vampire Waltz - ch 12
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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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
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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.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04
VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sweetnsaltyclussy
My Masterlist!
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jae-bummer · 7 months
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It's Only Lunch
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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."
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sadboytournament · 5 months
Text
ROUND TWO
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Propaganda
Read more added due to the length
Anthony Lockwood: (via @its-your-mind)
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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..."
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thedemonknownasbilly · 3 months
Note
Howdy! I've got another poly AziraCrow x reader request for you, if you're interested
Ineffable husbands with a non-binary s/o who constantly gets misgendered and deadnamed during the holiday season since they're around family n stuff?
Ik its not malicious and it's out of habit but man, it's not great for dysphoria. Trying to disconnect myself from that so I don't hold it against anyone but. Idk. Sorry for rambling lol.
Sending love 💚
Their Name - Ineffable Husbands x GN!Reader
Boy, oh, boy this hit close to home. So basing a lot of the house descriptions/holiday traditions on my family.
Ineffable Husbands snapping at Reader’s family
He/Him for Aziraphale || She/He/They for Crowley
Great Room - the spare room usually adjacent to the living room, typically where the foyer enters into.
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There was a lot you couldn’t tell your family. How your husbands were actually ethereal beings well over six thousand years old, how Aziraphale found a miracle that would help you to live forever alongside them, or how Crowley was the serpent they so often cursed in Sunday Service. But there was one thing you made crystal-fucking-clear, your name and gender identity. You came out as non-binary almost four years ago, telling your family how you wanted them to refer to you in only neutral terms.
You had met Aziraphale and Crowley a year after that, marrying them in secret two years later, just the past spring. Crowley had told you how they used all pronouns, so your favorite pastime was to call him your wife when using he/him pronouns. Aziraphale told you that he preferred he/him but wasn’t opposed to they/them if it was to put a bigot in place. That if he chose to present as a woman again for the first time in thousands of years then he would update such choices. Just a small family the three of you were.
Meeting them had been perfect for your mental health, you weren’t ready to date anyone, and a rainy day led to you stepping into the red and gold bookshop, with plants scattered about, books older than time itself, an angel and a demon running it. And they took you in without a second thought.
“Darling, you seem lost in thought,” Aziraphale broke you from your thoughts, your bottom lip sore from chewing it in stress. “What is it that troubles you?” You looked at him in the rear view mirror, smiling softly as you felt Crowley’s hand on your thigh.
“Just nervous, and feeling bad. I want to tell them about us, all three of us, and yet I’m too scared…” your family wasn’t the most open to anything outside of heteronormative, including polyamory unfortunately, leaving Aziraphale to be the “best friend/co-worker”, he had actually volunteered the title, saying it would look better for Crowley to be your husband since he appeared closer to your age than the white haired Angel did.
“Don’t fret, I know it’s not ideal, but we can pretend for one night.” Aziraphale reassured, his blue eyes seeming brighter despite the dim light in the Bentley.
“We’re here, love.” Crowley said, parking behind your uncle’s familar white SUV. “You two ready?” You looked over to Crowley and nodded, unbuckling and turning back in your seat to give Aziraphale his final kiss of the night.
Immediately you wanted to slink back into the Bentley when you heard a chorus of your deadname being yelled through the house, directing Aziraphale to the dessert table to place the Eccles cake while you set down the ancient wine bottle with the other drinks.
“This is Anthony,” you introduced your husband to your family, he was dressed in their gray button up with his red tie, black blazer and slacks. “And this is our dearest friend Azira.” Aziraphale was done up in his usual outfit except he traded out the faded waistcoat for a newer one.
“What a pity we couldn’t attend the wedding, but I suppose (s)he’s always done things his/her own way.” Your mom said, feigning innocence as your hand tightened on Crowley’s.
“Ah, yes, I suppose that’s what drew me to them. Their fierce determination.” Crowley glared slightly, a faux grin on her lips as they enunciated your pronouns. That was how the night would continue, both Crowley and Aziraphale determinedly trying to correct your family through their own speech.
“That’s it!” Aziraphale was the first to snap, seeing tears in your eyes as he sat across from you at the dining table, luckily the children were eating in the great room, the tv playing football flickered at his outburst. “I have absolutely had it with you lot misgendering them! They told you four years ago that they preferred gender neutral terms and informed you of their very legal name change, what is so hard to accept?”
When your mom went to speak, Crowley interrupted. “Nope, wrong answer there, see it’s not that hard, maybe in the beginning, to adjust, to try. But you lot never tried, did you? Instead our partner here is almost in tears, they were stressed about even coming, but unlike you all, they value you. And yes, I said our partner. Azira is not just a friend, in fact he’s as much their husband as I am.” Crowley rose from her chair and offered you their hand, which you gratefully took, letting him guide you out of the house with Aziraphale following behind you.
“I’m sorry, that was improper and I know that-” Aziraphale stammered out, feeling like he messed up but being cut off when you suddenly hugged him, laughing softly against his shoulder.
“Don’t you dare apologize, did you see their faces? That was so worth it, I have you two, and we’re a big enough family for me.” Aziraphale hugged you back tightly and kissed the side of your head, you felt Crowley press against your back, joining your hug and kissing Aziraphale.
“Happy Christmas, loves.”
“Happy Christmas, dear.”
“Happy Christmas, little devil.”
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americaswritings · 1 year
Text
When we fall | Part 1
Warnings (for all parts): Fluff, angst!!, description of injuries, blood, violence, use of guns, mentions of death, probably unaccurate policing/medicine
Summary: You moved to Chicago to start a new life. Working as a doctor alongside your brother Connor you make new friends and although you swore to yourself not to let any man in your life at least for a while, your promises fail when you lock eyes with a handsome stranger in a bar.
Words: 6k
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Doctor!Rhodes!reader
A/N: I just started watching Chicago PD (I'm on season 3 now) after I've been watching Fire and Med for years now. I just can't stand Voight so I only began watching for Jay and Burzek! And I am so in love with Jay. Please, this man is perfect. Just look at that handsome face!!
This is going to be a 3 part series I wrote on a whim. Originally I only planned on writing one scene, but then I figured it needed a backstory so this happened...
I have to say I am really proud how it turned out. I was just in such a flow when I wrote it that the story basically wrote itsself. I hope you enjoy and that the characters feel true to themselves :)
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You had only began working at Gaffney Chicago Medical Center a few months ago, hesitant to work alongside your brother but knowing it was an opportunity, which would be stupid not to take.
Having moved to Chicago recently to be close with your brother after a messy break-up, you were still adjusting to your new life.
It was why you were more than relieved when you got along well with your co-workers, especially Natalie and her boyfriend Will.
They were understanding of your situation, were never bothered to show you where to find something at the hospital and made you feel welcome from the beginning as they invited you in on their group plans and joked like you were old friends.
Although you still felt a little uncertain at times to work with your brother, who had made himself a name as a brilliant trauma and cardiothoracic surgeon, he had been supportive since your decision to leave your old town behind and start a new life in Chicago.
Maybe, you thought, coming here had been exactly what you needed. A fresh start, a new beginning with new friends and no men to mess with your heart. At least for now.
“I told you I have sworn off men”, you sighed, shaking your head in amusement at Natalie’s try to play matchmaker. “They’re trouble. I don’t need that in my life right now.”
“Hey!” Will send you a look, though you knew he wasn’t mad. “She’s not wrong though”, April stated and Ethan next to her grinned. “I mean it though”, you said directed at Natalie. “I just want to focus on myself right now. My job. No dating for now.”
Everyone at the table nodded and you relaxed, glad you had found these people, who respected and supported you. “Cheers to that!” April raised her glass and you did the same when you noticed yours was empty.
With a groan you pushed yourself out of your seat and up, gesturing towards the bar. “I’m going to get another drink. Anyone want something?” They all shook their heads, already moving onto another topic.
As you made your way over to the counter you studied the people around you, trying to determine who was a cop, a firefighter and who a regular. Right in the beginning the others had introduced you to Mollys, claiming it was Chicago’s bar where first responders spend their time after shift.
Figuring it might come in handy to memorize some faces you let your gaze drift over the sea of people, recognizing a few men that Connor had once told you worked at the CFD. They were laughing loudly, beers in hand as they seemed to be talking enthusiastically about something.
At the table next to theirs your gaze came to a hold, your eyes caught by a man you had never seen before but looked slightly familiar. Your brows furrowed as you rummaged in your head for something that connected you to him, but you couldn’t find anything.
The people who sat with him didn’t look familiar either, consisting of men and one woman with chestnut hair. Your eyes drifted back to the man, who had caught your attention, his brown hair styled neatly and his hands wrapped around a bottle of beer that he just raised to his lips.
You didn’t meant to stare, but you were mesmerized, torn between trying to determine why he looked so familiar and captured by his effortless handsomeness.
He wore a green shirt, making you think his eyes were the same shade, although it was hard to know with the distance between you.
He seemed relaxed, leant back in his seat but listening to the others conversation attentively. Having sensed someone’s eyes on him he suddenly looked up, his eyes searching the room for a split second before they fell onto you.
Your face heat up as a blush crept up your cheeks, knowing you had missed your chance to turn away. The man raised his brows slightly, in confusion just as much as amusement it seemed, before he lightly lifted his bottle, as if he was saying cheers.
You clutched your glass a little tighter, glad that it had been refilled in the time you had spent gawking at him, and copied the movement, an unstable smile on your lips. Then you turned away, meeting Stella’s gaze from the other side of the bar.
The two of you had met when she had been at the hospital for smoke inhaling a while ago and you had clicked almost instantly, connected by your determination to hold your own in a field still dominated by men. And by your past with toxic relationships as you found out later.
“What was that?”, she asked, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of her lips as her eyes flickered between you and the man behind you. A part of you wanted to ask if he was still watching you, the other longed to forget it had ever happened.
“I don’t know.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Can we just forget it ever happened?”
Stella’s face lit up, her curls dancing around her face as she shook her head. “Yeah, you wish. But that was definitely something.”
You exhaled, pinching your nose. “Thank you for the drink.” You saw Stella open her mouth in protest at your ignoration of her words, but before she could say anything else you send her an apologetical smile and hurried off.
No one seemed to have noticed your encounter and you slipped into the booth with ease, trying hard not to steal another glance at the unknown man a few tables away.
No men, you reminded yourself. Right now you needed to focus on getting your life together, not getting your heart broken by a handsome stranger.
-
“Dr. (Y/l/n)?” “Yeah?”, your head shot up from where you had filled out paper work. Because Connor and you were only half-sibling, you didn’t share the same last name, something you had been more than glad over when stepping foot in this hospital for the first time.
No one knew where you came from and that you shared genes with the successful Dr. Rhodes and you had left it at that at first, wanting to make your own impression first before dropping the information.
You could still remember their shocked faces, the questions, but most of all the excitement as they asked what Connor had been like growing up. If you had any embarrassing stories to tell or photos to show.
You didn’t, keeping them to yourself for now, because you hadn’t come here to make fun of your brother. He had been your rock through your breakup and your move here, something you were so grateful for you feared you would never be able to show him just how much.
“We have someone hit bit a bullet waiting in the three.” Your eyes widened. “Why didn’t they come with an ambulance?”, you asked, grabbing your iPad along the way.
Maggie waved off your comment, chuckling. “Cops. You know how they are.”
Actually, you didn’t. Coming from a small town you had no experience with shootings and gangs and many of the other trauma causes that were common here in Chicago. It was why you had been so excited about your job offer at the hospital.
Although you were still adjusting to the changes of living in a city and there were downsides you hadn’t considered before, you liked it. It felt so different, giving you the sense that in this city everything could be possible.
So many options and so many possibilities, as if you could completely reinvent yourself. It was thrilling, making you wonder how you had ever lived without the adrenaline rush of stepping into a busy ER.
Quickly scanning the information on your tablet you pulled open the curtain, clamping the iPad under your arm as you disinfected your hands.
“Hi, I’m doctor (y/l/n) and you are?” You glanced up, startled as you met the eyes of a familiar stranger. The man in front of you grinned, seemingly better at covering up his surprise. “Shouldn’t it say my name on your tablet?”
He didn’t sound rude, only a little sarcastic and perhaps even teasing. You gulped, trying to recompose yourself. “Right. I just prefer getting to know my patients myself than just relying on numbers and letters.”
You didn’t see his reaction when you grabbed your iPad again, glancing down at it. “So your name is Jay Hal-” “Halstead”, he finished for you and you looked up at him again.
It made sense now, why he had seemed so familiar to you nights ago at Mollys. “You’re Will’s brother.” The man in front of you, Jay, as you knew now, raised a brow. “Have you considered becoming a detective?”
He was mocking you, again, and you were tempted to smack him with your iPad. “So-”, he paused, letting his eyes drift over you. You felt your body tense under his gaze, cop’s eyes, and stood a little straighter.
“You were watching me at Mollys.”
You pressed your lips into a thin line, biting your tongue. You could only hope the embarrassment that began to sink in didn’t show.
“I was not watching you”, you stated and he raised a brow, daring you to explain yourself. “I just thought you looked familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why. Now it makes sense.”
You turned halfway towards the door, gesturing to the halls where somewhere his brother was treating another patient.
“I don’t think that’s the whole truth.”
You almost gasped at the confidence in his voice, instead blowing out a breath. “It definitely was.”
He shook his head, smiling. “I don’t buy it.”
There were many things you wanted to say to him, but you swallowed them, knowing it was no use. He clearly enjoyed teasing you, so you wouldn’t give him more fuel.
Instead you let out a sigh, shifting into professionality. “So, Mr. Halstead”, you began. “Jay is fine.” You tried not to let his interruption let you lose your string again and nodded. “Jay, you’re here for a bullet wound on your left upper arm?”
Jay nodded, his eyes- they really were green- bright. Pulling on your gloves you decided it was time to reclaim your own position a little. “And you decided to just walk in here instead of coming with an ambulance? Seems a little reckless, don’t you think?”
He raised one brow at your question. “It’s just a graze. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for my boss.” He rolled his eyes, making you wonder what his boss was like.
“Seems like your boss is a lot smarter than you”, you muttered, but to your surprise Jay grinned. “You’re new here, right? At least I’ve never seen you here before. Do you always talk to patients like that?”
You shrugged, unbothered by his words as you stepped close to him to take a look at his arm. You didn’t know what had gotten into you to talk to him like that, but you had the feeling with him it was fine. That he could take it, perhaps even enjoyed it over your dry professionalism.
“Only to the ones I like best”, you said with sarcasm in your voice, too focused on inspecting his wound to check his expression.
Jay didn’t move under your touch, allowing you to move his arm before you let it go again. He had done this before, probably multiple times. It was why he was so unbothered, perhaps even annoyed to waste his time here on something that seemed unsignificant to him.
For a moment you were tempted to ask him how he could choose a job that demanded such sacrifice, but you didn’t know him and you doubted he would give you an honest answer. Not that you could blame him. You were practically strangers.
And was your job much different? Although you had never been hurt and doubted it would ever happen, you were still making countless of sacrifices for it. Taking on extra shifts, working through the nights, staying longer to take more time for your patients and putting their health over your own sometimes.
“It’s just a graze shot”, you said when you were done inspecting the wound, ignoring his look that seemed to say “told you”.
“But you still need to be careful with it. Give it rest, avoid any rapid movements, don’t lift too heavy with it…I think you know.”
Jay nodded, watching you remove your gloves. “Does that happen often?” He tilted his head in question and you bit your lip. “I mean, you- getting shot on the job.”
“Are you asking if I come here often?” His lips were curled into a lopsided grin, looking way too handsome on his features. You rolled your eyes at his teasing, ignoring the way your heart beat a little faster in your chest. “Forget it”, you stated, throwing your gloves into the bin.
“I am going to tell one of the residents to come and bandage the wound. Then you’re free to go.”
But before you could move the curtain again and leave the room you heard Jay’s voice behind you. “Wait.”
You paused, turning back to him slowly. For the first time he wore a serious expression, his jaw twitching.
“I’m with the Intelligence”, he stated, in a way that told you the name should ring a bell. It didn’t. You were too new to know much about it.
Jay seemed to sense it by your lack of a reaction to his words. “We’re…very involved in the City.”
Whatever that meant. You tilted your head in question. “You mean with the gangs?”
Jay shifted. “Voight, my boss, he can be very- intense.”
You nodded slowly, taking in his guarded expression. It was a topic you wouldn’t pry at. “And you’re okay with it? I mean- you’re just so…casual about this.”
You bit your lip, hesitant to ask him but curious as well. The cops in your home town had barely ever used their weapon to the point you sometimes even doubted they were able to.
Jay shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I worked for the CPD I was in the army. I’ve been through a lot worse than a graze. Getting shot at is just another part of my job.”
A veteran.
In such a short amount of time Jay had revealed so much to you. Suddenly you had a lot more respect for the man in front of you and you wondered if that was his way of coping, covering up his battle wounds and scars with sarcasm and wit.
You swallowed, trying to find words. But none seemed fitting. “Sounds like I will be seeing you here often then.” You kept your voice emotionless, although the thought of seeing Jay regularly made your heart speed up a little. Of course you would prefer different circumstances.
Damn his handsome face and wit.
He grinned slightly, shifting the atmosphere back to something lighter. “Don’t get too excited. I prefer staying bullet free.” “As you should.”
Typing something into your iPad you gave Jay a final nod. “Stay safe out there.” Then you turned to the door, already halfway out when you heard his voice again.
“I don’t even know your name.”
You froze, smiling to yourself when you tried not to put too much weight into the fact that he had called you back a second time. It seemed almost as if he didn’t want you to leave just yet.
But you pushed the thought aside, knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted so easily.
Turning back to him you put on a polite smile.
“You’re a detective, figure it out.”
You were surprised by your own confidence, but with Jay you didn’t feel shy or insecure. He made you feel like you could say anything and he wouldn’t mind. The type of man that didn’t get upset easily, so comfortable with who he was that it took a lot to get him to lose his temper.
“I could just ask my brother, you know.”
You shrugged, unimpressed. “If that lets you sleep at night, sure.”
You left the room smiling to yourself and it took you another few minutes to calm your rapid heart and collect yourself.
-
“You didn’t tell me you have a brother!” “What?” Will looked up from the computer, startled by the way you had barged into the break room.
Your shift was over and you couldn’t wait to get home and relax on the couch, but before that you needed to talk to Will. Because after encountering the other Halstead your mind hadn’t been able to let go of what had happened between the two of you. The way he had looked at you, teased you. How he had made you feel nervous and confident in just a matter of moments.
“Why didn’t you tell me you have a brother?” You leaned on the desk, sure that you had Will’s full attention now. “You didn’t tell us you had a brother the first few weeks either.”
“That’s different.” You shook your head. “And I did tell you. So…?”
Will leaned back in his chair, stretching his back. “I didn’t think it mattered. I would have introduced you eventually but- wait, is Jay here?”
You bit your tongue, feeling a little caught. You hadn’t thought that maybe Jay didn’t want his brother to know what had happened. But it was too late now, and anyway, how should you have known?“
"He was. He is fine though.” You kept your words vague, aware that you weren’t allowed to share personal information with Will. Even if they were brothers.
Will let out a sigh. “That idiot. Probably got himself in trouble again.” He reached for his phone across the desk and you quickly got up, straightening.
“You didn’t get it from me”, you threw in before Will could drag you into it and he looked up at you with curiosity in his eyes. “I wasn’t going to mention you.”
“Oh.” You nodded, feeling relieved yet a little flustered. Will studied you with attentive eyes, reminding you of his brother for a second before his expression shifted into suspicion.
“So you met Jay.” He said it in a way that proposed something meaningful behind his words, but you couldn’t figure out why. “I did.” You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet before swaying forward again. A nervous habit. “I bet he’s the younger one.”
“He is, yeah.”
You suppressed a grin. It made so much sense. “So I should probably head home now. I got the early shift tomorrow.”
“Right.” Will nodded, the phone in his hands seemingly forgotten as his eyes were still fixed on you. “Did something happen between you and my brother?”
Your heart sank a little. Were you really so obvious? “I told you I’ve sworn off men. And your brother is- annoying.”
You wished the last part didn’t sound like it came straight from a five year old’s mouth, but it was too late to take back.
“Trust me, I know that.” Will let out a sigh, but you could see the fondness in his eyes. The gesture alone told you they had a close relationship.
A cop and a doctor. What a pair.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
-
Weeks had passed since you had last seen Jay. He hadn’t shown up in the hospital again, which you were both glad for and disappointed at, and since you had been taking on extra shifts for a sick co-worker, you had spent almost all your time at the hospital or passed out in your bed.
“You haven’t gone out with us in weeks!” Sylvie was currently trying to convince you to come to Mollys. You had gotten to know her through Stella and the two of you had gotten along well, her sweet and kind nature something that made you feel comfortable around her instantly.
Although you had quickly learned not to underestimate the girl. She was working with a bunch of guys after all and had learned to stand her ground with them.
Sylvie could be very persistent, you realized again when she had called you to invite you to a girl’s night out. “Stella won’t be working today, so it’s our chance to spend the night as just us girls.”
You gnawed your lip, thinking. You were tired, craving your couch and tv more than going out again, but Sylvie wasn’t wrong, you had been mostly on your own the past days. Being a little social and getting out of your own apartment would probably be good.
“Urgh, fine”, you groaned. “But you’re paying my first drink.” You knew Sylvie was smiling triumphantly on the other end of the line. “Deal.” “Now get your ass over here!” It was Stella’s voice in the background and you chuckled. “You are the worst!”
“And you love us anyway”, she chirped and you hung up, shaking your head with a smile on your face.
You hadn’t thought about impressing anyone when getting ready, but you were more than glad you had put a little effort into your outfit and make-up when you stepped into Molly’s that night, your getup like a wall build around you.
“You came!” Stella crossed the room, her voice loud enough for a couple of heads to turn towards you. You could kill her for drawing attention to you, but you forced a smile onto your lips instead, trying not to look at anyone except her.
“Hey”, you muttered, shrugging out of your coat and hugging her. “Wow, girl you look stunning!” Stella’s eyes flashed up and down your body as she let go, a smirk on her face.
“A little quieter, please?”, you almost whispered, aware that you still had the attention of the people around you. Stella seemed either completely oblivious to it all or unbothered, because she grinned at you. “Looking like that you will draw attention to you whether you like it or not!”
You felt your cheeks heat up a little, glad when you spied Sylvie making her way over. “I told her not to make a scene, but she wouldn’t listen. You know how she is!”
You hugged her too, smiling as Stella let out a breath. “I did not make a scene. And I’m standing right here, you know?”
Laughing, the three of you made your way to the back, where you slipped into a booth, your drink already waiting for you. “You know me so well”, you told Stella as you took your first sip, relaxing a little now that the attention had mostly vanished.
“I got you, girl!” Stella winked at you, before launching into a story about their newest rescue. Soon you were enveloped in laughter and smiles, the stress of the last days forgotten for the night.
Only when Stella declared it was time for another round of drinks you felt the exhaustion return to your body. “I think I’m going to head home”, you told them, stretching a little in your seat. “Early shift tomorrow?”, Sylvie asked and you nodded.
“You’re way too selfless, taking on all these extra shifts”, Stella pointed out, but you waved her off. “I’m the new one, so it’s fine. Helps me get to know everyone and everything better and it’s not like I have much to do in this city yet. I only got my gym membership, but I didn’t really have time to look for anything else.”
“See? That’s exactly why you need time off! You should be out exploring the city!” You smiled at Stella’s enthusiasm. “It’s not like it won’t be here tomorrow. I’m planning on staying here, so there’s plenty of time to get to know it all.”
Sylvie offered you a smile. “I’m glad you do. I know it can be quite an adjustment to move to a big city like Chicago, but it will feel like your home in no time.”
You felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest as you thought back to the past months, which had been filled with nothing but heartbreak, loss and a turmoil of emotions. Even as you had decided to start a new life in Chicago, you had been filled with fear and uncertainty, scared to make the wrong call yet again.
Never could you have imagined to find a job, that was so challenging, but gave you a sense of purpose and a group of friends, that felt like you had met them long ago.
“It already kind of does”, you admitted, your eyes fixed on the empty glass in front of you before you looked up at them again. They both looked at you with big smiles on their faces and you almost felt tears fill your eyes. It had been a long day.
“We should do this more often”, you told them as you got up and grabbed your coat. “That’s what I said!” Stella nodded.
“And I still need to show you that spinning class. You would love it!” Sylvie sounded so excited that you couldn’t help but chuckle. “I am sure. Just text me and we’ll find something.”
“And you’re sure you can’t stay longer?”
Your eyes drifted to the counter as you considered staying for another drink, but your body felt heavy and almost sore from the day’s work. “Next time. But you two have fun and don’t drink too much”, you winked at them.
As you excited the bar you waved towards a few familiar faces before pulling your coat closer around your body to prepare yourself for Chicago’s cold.
Still you shivered as you stepped outside, pulling out your phone to order an Uber. Something you had only done once before, on your way here, but was an easy and quick way of getting around the city.
It would take a few minutes for your driver to arrive and you realized it would have been a lot smarter to wait inside, but you hadn’t thought of it then and you felt too proud to step inside again.
Pressing your hands together you rubbed them against each other a few times to create heat, before slinging your arms around your torso. Chicago’s harsh winters wasn’t something you hadn’t gotten used to yet, but the promise of snow lingering in the air made it almost worth it.
You heard the faint sound of the door opening and closing behind you so you took a step to the side of the building, not wanting to stand in the way of whoever had just left the bar.
To your surprise the person came to stand beside you, his presence alarming you until you glanced up to find none other than Jay Halstead standing next to you.
Immediately your body relaxed again, as if it knew by instinct his presence meant safety. “That was quite an entrance”, he greeted you, referring to the moment you had stepped into Molly’s.
You felt your cheeks flush at the memory, hoping he couldn’t see it in the dim light of the streetlamp. “I didn’t know you were here.” You kept your eyes trained at the empty street in front of you, willing and dreading the moment your driver came to pick you up.
“I was with the unit”, he said and you turned your head towards him. “Are you here often?” He shrugged, his eyes darting to the building. “I guess so, yeah. It’s the place where everyone comes.”
You nodded silently, contemplating his words. “But if I want to be alone, I go to the bar at the corner North Milwaukee Avenue.” You met his eyes curiously. Was he making recommendations, because you were new in the city or did he have another intention?
“So bars and hospitals. Everywhere else I can expect to run into Jay Halstead?” You didn’t know why you asked, but a part of you wanted to know. Wanted to know more about him, what his life was like, what made him who he was.
Jay grinned faintly. “You make it sound like I’ve got issues.” “Do you? Have issues?” You were teasing and he smirked. “Doesn’t everyone?”
“I don’t think I have.” Even as you said it you knew your words couldn’t be farer from the truth. Hadn’t your issues been what had led you here?
Jay watched you for a moment, seemingly picking up on your change of mood, but sensing you weren’t ready to talk about it. You appreciated it, welcoming the silence to sort your thoughts again.
“So what led you here to Chicago?” His question was innocent and something you had been asked countless of times since your move here, but for some reason you felt the urge to be open with him. No lies or excuses.
And even if Jay barely knew you, you thought he would be able to pick up on it. He must be an excellent detective.
“There were some…things I needed to leave behind.” It was vague, but more than you had told most who had asked. Only the girls knew about your breakup, but even with them you hadn’t shared many details.
Jay didn’t ask further, his grave expression suggesting he understood you better than you might have thought. “Why Chicago?” You glanced away from him, taking in the empty road, the skyline with its lights in the background. “I needed a fresh start, somewhere where no one knew who I am. And I got family here, so it made sense.”
You could feel his eyes on you and you swallowed before facing him again. For a moment your eyes locked, none of you saying anything as you started at each other. Jay was the first one to break the heavy atmosphere, a smile dancing at his lips.
“But you’re not a criminal on the run, are you? Because I would have to arrest you, if you were.” The tension that had risen in your body at the mention of your past vanished and you grinned, relieved about his ability to lighten the atmosphere. “What gave it away?”
Jay leaned a little closer, his eyes glistening. “Maybe the way you always look over your shoulder-” You inhaled. Was that really something you did? “-or that you’re nervous around me, a cop.”
The air you had held escaped you in a surprised sound and you hugged your torso a little tighter. “I’m not nervous around you”, you huffed, shaking your head. Jay grinned.
“How is your arm by the way?” You weren’t interested in talking about yourself any longer, shifting the topic onto him. Your gazes travelled down his arm where his jacket was covering the wound you had inspected. It seemed like forever ago and like yesterday at once.
“It’s good. Voight’s keeping me at a leash, make sure I’m 100% before I get into the field again.” He said it like it wasn’t a big deal, but you could hear the strain in his voice. He missed it, being out there on the streets.
“Sounds reasonable to me.” “Yeah.” Jay nodded, a faraway look in his eyes. It seemed like you weren’t the only one with secrets.
You looked up at the sound of a car nearing, a black car approaching the two of you. Checking your phone you held it up. “That’s my ride.”
But you only managed one step towards it before Jay pulled you back, his hand wrapped around your lower arm. You gazed at it, confused and startled by his reaction and he loosened his grip, his hand falling to his side after a moment.
“You know the guy?”, he asked, pointing to the man that was sitting behind the wheel, an impatient expression on his face.
Slowly you shook your head, your eyes flickering between the car and Jay. “But he’s my ride. See-” you held up your phone to him, but Jay paid it little attention.
“Yeah, no, you’re not climbing into that car”, he stated, his voice firm but not unfriendly. “Wait, what?”
Surprised you watched Jay walk towards the car, waiting for the driver to pull down the window before leaning in. You couldn’t hear what was said, only watched the two speak for a minute.
Their conversation ended with Jay handing the man money, before walking back towards you as the car sped away in the darkness.
“What the hell was that?”, you asked as Jay came to stand beside you again, his body just as relaxed as before. “You’re new in Chicago, right?” You didn’t say anything, knowing it was a question he didn’t expect an answer to.
“You should not be climbing into a car with a stranger. And not in the dark.”
Your head spun as you tried to process what he was implying. “It was just an uber! Everyone does that around here.”
You sounded clueless and defensive, shocked about the sudden change of events. Jay eyed you. “Well, then take it from me to never do that again. At least not alone. Chicago’s not a good place, especially for women, trust me on that one.”
You didn’t know what to say, blinking at him as the impact of it sank in. What if Jay hadn’t stepped outside? You doubted anything would have happened, but what if he was right and you had been reckless? Naive?
“So how am I supposed to get around the city then? Because driving in this traffic is madness.”
For the first time since your interruption Jay smiled again. “You can just ask me. I am much cheaper anyway. And on top you will get to see my face.”
You rolled your eyes over his confidence. “Now that’s a deal I can’t decline”, you muttered, fighting the grin that threatened to spread over your face and failing. Damn it.
“But for real, what am I supposed to do? I can’t just call you all the time I want to go somewhere.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem if we went together.”
Your eyes widened as you almost choked on the air. “You mean a date?”
Jay shrugged, his eyes not meeting yours for only a second. “You can pay me back for saving your ass twice.”
“Twice?”
“Getting into that car for one and saving you from freezing here on the street by driving you home.”
Smooth. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “Does that work with every woman you’re trying to impress?”
Jay shrugged, fiddling for something in his pocket before pulling out his car keys. You watched a car light up at the other side of the street, following Jay towards it.
“I wouldn’t know. And who says I’m trying to impress you?”
“Maybe because of this whole I’m-a-cop-and-I’m-so-tough-thing.”
Now it was Jay’s turn to chuckle. “That’s not just a thing. So, what are you saying?”
Oh. You bit your lip, considering the thought of going on a date with Jay. Hadn’t you just recently decided not to date and focus on yourself for a while?
But you couldn’t deny you wanted to say yes. To spend more time around him and enjoy the feeling of ease he gave you.
“Maybe.”
You said it with a teasing smile, scared Jay might take your answer in a bad way, but he sent you a confident grin. “I can work with that.”
Tags:
PERMANENT
@capkilljoy @fairytalesforever @hamartocado @choke-me-sweet-pea @sleepinginthegarden7 @thenoddingbunny-blog @ttalisa  @hallecarey1 @Not-jay-c @sunwardsss @writingrem-blog @the-pink-petite-princess @wanniiieeee @part-time-patronus @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad  @theshortegg @not-reptilian @msdrpreist @alisonhepps @hallecarey1  @thatfangirl42 @dustyinkpages @ellabellabus07 @iluvjj  @wayward-hunter  @sweet-texas-girl @rosie-posie08 @ @olsensnpm  @meyocoko  @alexxavicry @shhh423  @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jayyeahthatsme @savagemickey03  @alexxavicry @partiallypearl @earthtolottie  @gisobsessedwithfanfiction  @navs-bhat  @AlohaStitch_626 @multi-fandom-lover7667 @xcallmetaniax
ONE CHICAGO
@alldaysdreamers  @krswrites @oosnapitskat @okiegirl24  @mads-weasley  @nyx2021 @human01sposts @wanniiieeee @dustyinkpages @randomwriter1021 @cosmic-psychickitty @smoothdogsgirl @yyourmotherr  @luckyladycreator2  @penguins0527 @rippl3s @sande5098 @freyathehuntress @sorry-i-spaced   @narnianaos @jtxox01  @captainjoongiekissme @killerrbunnii @randomhoex @mrspeacem1nusone @thesithdiaries @cosmicwintr @fdl305  @insane-fangirl @thaliadoesthingd @crazy4pennywise@morks-watermelon  @automaticpeachsong @arialikestea @lanea-1 @hoeshii  @multi-fandom-lover7667  @mrsjna @toohighhopes @caroldanverwife @Kanji_Chikara @chsatlntic @halstead-severide-fan @halsteadloversworld
Add yourself to my taglist!
Please let me know what you think :)
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