#is being presented to you right now as a woman? you think referring to a 'male' heavy quotes character as a woman is a Funny Meme?

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

I loveeee love love transfem Spy hcs but like I literally cannot imagine posting any sort of art or writing about her idk how yall bear it. If I posted art of a character I was interpreting as a trans woman and all the notes were like "omggg I love this I love HIM. HE looks so WET AND PATHETIC isn't it so PATHETIC and FUNNY when MEN wear DRESSES" I'd fuckin kill somebody

#yes this is me complaining. i need to do this every couple of weeks or i will die #see i care abt transphobia too i have many facets #open mick night #kinda #tf2 #team fortress 2 #spy #spy tf2 #transfem spy #inspired by a convo i was having w beck and hayden that partially involved how people treat making a 'man' gay or gnc #as like something that makes him More Pathetic And Scrunkly or whatever. you should all shut the hell up #like even if they don't put her pronouns in the caption or whatever sometimes it's like. u can't tell that this character #is being presented to you right now as a woman? you think referring to a 'male' heavy quotes character as a woman is a Funny Meme?

[fizzyxcustard]

Those Hands.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Insecurity, comparison, angst, sexual references, mutual pining, idiots in love.

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "Imagine that Thorin is in love with you (from the race of Men) but constantly compares his body and features with other men, thinking you find him disgusting." Requested by multiple readers and anons. (THANK YOU!)

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thorin watched every little interaction that you had with other males, whether they be Dwarves, Men or Elves. He couldn’t help but watch you blush, avert eye contact and use self-soothing gestures, such as touching your face, curling your hair with your fingers, or rubbing your upper arms. 

Since Thorin had been crowned King of Erebor, and re-building was underway, many people visited the mountain. Bard came from Esgaroth, often meeting with Thorin in council, to discuss trade deals and assistance in building. Much to Thorin’s distain, Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, also came. Again, he joined the council to converse around the subject of trade deals in precious metals and gemstones.  

Your relationship with Thorin was entirely built on trust. The two of you had been companions out on the road during the quest to re-take Erebor. He had always valued your opinion, spoke with you in private, and kept you close to him on his council of advisors. Erebor was now your home, despite you being of the race of Men. Your family were all gone, meaning that the Dwarves had now taken that place, welcoming you into the fold and treating you as one of their own. 

One morning, council was busy. Neldra, one of the kitchen staff, was on hand with jugs of cold drinks and pots of tea. Then once all the drinks were laid out neatly on intricately laced doilies, she came back with a trolley of fresh pastries. 

The smell was divine; you took an inhale and let the scent overtake you. Apple and cinnamon were among the selection: your favourite. 

You reached out to take one of the pastries, only to feel another hand graze yours. “I apologise,” a voice came, from the direction of the hand. 

It was Bard, from two seats down to your right hand side, who had stretched across to grab one of Neldra’s famous delicacies. “It was no bother,” you replied. “You first.” 

“Ladies first. I insist.” 

Thorin’s blue eyes studied the scene going on before him. No one else had noticed the exchange between you and Bard. Upon the impact of yours and Bard’s hands, Thorin felt a jolt in his chest. It rose up into his throat, and he closed his eyes for a brief second. The red hot sensation bore into him, feeling as if it were forming a hole straight through him. Upon opening his eyes, Thorin looked at his hands, then glanced across to Bard’s. The man’s hands were broad, but his fingers long and slender. Very much unlike Thorin’s. The Dwarf King’s fingers were short and bulky, with stubby ends. Surely Bard’s hands would have the dexterity and skill to caress your skin, drawing shivers from you. A Dwarf’s hands would be too calloused and thick to evoke any kind of pleasurable sensation upon a woman from the race of Men. 

Chatter continued, along with eating and drinking. In that time, Thorin tried his hardest to push the negative thoughts from his mind, and concentrate on the conversation at hand, which involved the realms of Erebor and Esgaroth exchanging skilled workers and apprentices. 

Thranduil was also present and merely rolled his eyes as the conversation got underway between Bard and Thorin. The Elven King did not like to waste his time, and being in this council meant that there were stints of time where his input was not needed. 

“Would you like another drink?” you asked Thranduil, picking up the nearest china pot of tea. 

“I would much prefer wine, but since I’m not within my realm, I would not say no.”

Thorin’s gaze darted over to Thranduil, and then to you. He saw you brush a piece of hair behind your ear, and then look up at the Elven King sat opposite you. Your ears were small, with one golden hoop earring in each lobe. Then Thorin looked at Thranduil’s ears; pointed at the tip, finely structured. They weren’t big, round and sticking out. Thorin’s ears were ugly, and thankfully he could keep them hidden under his long hair. Secretly, he had always imagined you whispering against them, your lips brushing them. It made Thorin shiver. 

Once council had concluded, Thorin left the chamber and headed back to the royal wing. Once inside and he stood in front of his full length dress mirror, staring at the protruding ears on the side of his head. Then he studied his large hands, thinking back to Bard’s. 

The males from the races of Men and Elves made you blush in a way that Thorin never had. Their bodies were more finely crafted, which complemented yours. They had finer features with smaller noses and brows. 

Thorin shifted back and sat on his bed, his hands in his lap. He took one more glance at them, feeling disgusted at what he saw. They would never be good enough for you. None of his body would ever be good enough for you. Everything about him was oversized, not delicate and handsome like Bard and Thranduil. Both of them had lost their wives, and may have wished to re-marry, so they would make better husbands for you. 

***

The following day and Thorin was sat in the council room, signing documents. His quill scratched loudly against the parchment. 

You walked in, holding a further stack of documents in your hands. “These should be the last ones,” you said, offering a smile. 

Thorin looked up at you. No blush on your face to be seen. 

“Is everything alright?” you asked. There was something in his eyes, a thoughtfulness. Maybe even a sadness. You sat down in an empty seat next to Thorin. “What’s wrong?” On impulse, you placed your hand on top of his. 

Thorin looked at your hands, watching your thumb gently caress his knuckle. How huge his hand looked against yours. But how right it felt, as if the size did not matter, and they were still able to fit together as one. 

“There is nothing wrong,” Thorin said, forcing a weak smile. “I hear that Bard is leaving this afternoon. Will you not be wishing him farewell?” 

“I barely know him,” you replied. “I’d feel it strange to do so.” 

“Would you wish to get to know him?” 

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?”

“Surely you find him handsome,” Thorin continued, pulling the new stack of documents over towards him. 

“Not really. Can’t say I do. There’s some reason to you asking this, Thorin.” 

“Why would I have any reason?” 

“There’s always a reason to anything that you ask. I know you enough by now. Talk to me. You’ve always given me more trust than I deserve, and never questioned me liked this before.” 

Thorin took a deep inhale and looked at you, dropping his quill. “Who do you find handsome? If not Bard, maybe Thranduil?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ever would you think I’m attracted to King Thranduil?” The whole idea was so comical that you couldn’t help but keep giggling. “It takes….” You couldn’t stop the giggling. “A special….kind of woman….to…..” 

Thorin also began to chuckle, watching your face turn red in amusement and delight. His heart somehow felt lighter as he watched you, and that overwhelming love for you rose. It was a love that would allow him to do anything to make you happy. It was a love that would make him sacrifice his very life to keep you safe. It was sacrificial and unconditional. 

You could see the glow in Thorin’s eyes and the smile which curled his lips upwards. He was the one you found handsome, above all others. The intensity in his eyes made butterflies swarm in your stomach. His proud presence caused you to shiver whenever he entered a room. His voice was enough to make your imaginations travel to another place where only the two of you were, locked away in comfort, pursuing wondrous pleasure. 

You edged closer to Thorin. “You said you want to know who I find handsome?” 

Thorin’s heart was hammering now and he was sure that you would be able to hear it. 

“It’s you.” Your voice was a whisper. “It’s always been you. How could it not be you? Why would you ever think I’d be attracted to Bard and Thranduil?” 

Thorin closed his eyes in embarrassment. “My features and body are not like theirs.” 

“So why would that not make you handsome?” 

“My hands…” 

“Your hands?” you giggled. This time a blush did hit your cheeks, and it was even more vivid than it had ever been when in the company of any other man. “You have found out my secret.” 

“What secret?” Thorin asked, shifting ever so slightly closer to you. He had never wanted you any more than he did in those moments. The very thought that it was him that you found handsome was making his whole being rise, but anticipation was now racing down his spine in shivers. 

“I have had a fantasy for some time now, since meeting you, of what you could do to me with those hands,” you said, biting your lip. 

Thorin couldn’t hold back any more and moved even closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek. His breath was elevated and his eyes were sparkling with so much joy, but slight fear. 

His lips crashed against yours and you both groaned upon impact. Within seconds and the kiss had grown deep, your tongues both meeting. You couldn’t help but whimper as Thorin’s lips left yours and trailed down your neck. His beard tickled your skin and then as he grew more impatient, you could feel the tickle become a bristling, sharp sensation. Your hands became lost in his hair as he nuzzled at your neck, groaning and grunting. 

Thorin felt your fingertips brush over his ears, and it drew an overwhelming shiver from his very core. 

“I love you, Thorin,” you said again. “Now show me what you can do with those hands.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @xxbyimm @linasofia @middleearthpixie @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @luna-xial @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindedwriter @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee

Thorin Oakenshield tag list: @braidedheart @dumbassunderthemountain

Middle-earth tag list: @mismaeve @sotwk @emmyspov @valkyrie-of-the-light @deadlymistletoe

The Hobbit tag list: @flowerniche

#Thorin Oakenshield #The Hobbit #Thorin x You #Thorin x Reader #Thorin x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Thorin x Female Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Female Reader #Reader Insert #Insecurity #Fanfiction

[nothorses]

Hello there, I found on my tl this post presenting a different view on "baeddelism" from the perspective of a trans woman that claims that she was actually there when the og group existed and explains why the word has become somewhat of a transmisogynistic slur. And I wanted to ask you If you might have any thoughs on this reading of the subject matter?

www.tumblr.com/euniexenoblade/741692501713387520/anyways-baeddel-is-a-slur-against-trans-women

I mean, I think there's merit to the idea that calling people "baeddels" when they don't actually claim to be one themselves is at best counterproductive. The term refers less to A General Ideology, and more to a very specific movement- or, more accurately, two unrelated-but-similar movements that happened in the early/mid 2010's.

There's a term for what folks are usually talking about when they call some random trans woman a "baeddel" when she says she believes trans men oppress trans women: "TIRF", or trans-inclusionary radical feminist. It's a term that was coined by people who call themselves by it, and it's a lot more broad & generally useful here. It doesn't come with ties to a group that dissolved because of sexual assault allegations & rape apologism, and it isn't rooted in an Old English slur, which means it's a lot less charged. It's less likely to get people to shut down or laugh your whole point off because of how clear it is that you aren't listening to or engaging in anything they have to say with good faith.

So yes, I agree, calling random people "baeddels" is not in good taste. Don't do it. "TIRF" exists, it's more accurate, and it's less likely to hurt your argument anyway.

That said.

I take issue with the implication that:

a) Baeddels were tiny and utterly non-influential (therefore all references to them at this point are malicious exaggerations and bogeymen), and

b) Everyone self-describing as a "baeddel" today is actually just reclaiming a slur, exactly like people do with "tranny" and "faggot".

Baeddels (on Tumblr; again, there was a "baeddel" movement on Facebook at the time as well, but it was unrelated and ideologically distinct) were not so small that they had no impact, and to characterize them as widely unpopular- or, worse, influential only in that everyone hated them so much that alt-right bigots immediately revived "baeddel"s original meaning as a slur to in order to victimize all trans women- should immediately ping some alarm bells.

Baeddelism's core ideology centered around the idea that trans women are the most oppressed group, that transmisogyny is the root of all oppression, that trans women are always victimized, never safe, never understood, except around and by exclusively other trans women. This sucks, because there is very real oppression and trauma being preyed on here; trans women are encouraged to be paranoid and distrustful of anyone different from them, and their own experiences with oppression are weaponized against them in order to do so. This should remind you of the recruitment tactics cis radfems use.

That aside, there are some places where baeddelism's influence has been documented: @baeddel-txt is one example. Note that a lot of the posts archived there are recent. Here's one of the original crew, still active and spewing the same shit. Baeddelism has been experiencing something of a renaissance in recent years, too. Here's one of the original (ex-)baeddels talking about it as recently as 2021.

This is not "reclaiming a slur", these people are referring very explicitly to the original ideology & the desire, or observed desire, for that same movement to be brought back in the present day.

Does that make every TIRF-y trans woman a baeddel?

No!

But it is incredibly, and suspiciously disingenuous to deny the harm they caused, the influence they had, and the admiration people still hold for their ideology. And it is downright ahistorical to claim that the term is now, or was at the time that the group was most popular, used genuinely as a slur (sources, I am begging you).

Do not call people "baeddels" unless they're claiming the word for themselves. Do not allow anyone to make you think, even for a moment, that transfeminine people are The Enemy; they do not oppress us, they do not benefit from our oppression, and the vast majority of them are not interested in any kind of lateral violence against us in the first place. They are our allies. Do not forget that they are our allies.

Forgetting that trans people are each other's best allies is what lead to baeddelism in the first place. We need each other. Things can only improve for any of us if we fight for each other. Don't let resentment sabotage you- or hurt our trans siblings.

#baeddels #baeddelism #transunity

[paperlunamoth]

"No one is conflating gender with sex!"

Yes you are. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you would say you were "masculine to feminine" and not "male to female." If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be using the term "assigned male/female at birth" to decribe the gender assigned to a person because of their sex. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be pushing to have the words "male and female," which are the only terms we have to refer to sex specifically, redefined to mean "person who identifies as belonging to the masculine/feminine gender." If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't so consistently act as though masculinity is what makes someone male and femininity is what makes someone female. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be saying that transgender people need access opposite sex hormones. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be calling surgery to make your genitals more resemble those of the opposite sex gender confirmation surgery. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be bothered by your legal sex being different from your gender. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be demanding access to single sex spaces on the basis of your gender. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be upset when homosexual people don't want to sleep with you because of your sex and not your gender. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't consider sexual dysphoria to be part of being transgender. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you would be distinguishing between people who are transsexual and people who are transgender, and you would have invented a separate word by now for people who are both, instead of using "transgender" to mean both or either. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be pushing the idea that sex is nonbinary, arbitrary, debatable, and a social construct in order to make how people think about it more closely resemble how they think about gender. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then you wouldn't be claiming that gender identity is an innate and immutable part of a person's biology present at birth, just like sex, despite the fact that gender is a social construct and so by definition can't be inherent to a person based on their biological traits. If you weren't conflating gender with sex, then when you argue that some people have the brain of the opposite sex, and thus are neurologically a different sex from what they are physically, you'd be using that to legitimize transsexualism and not transgenderedness (and even if we could easily and reliably identify the sex of a person's brain, that should be assumed to tell us nothing about their gender identity, since sex and gender are different things, right?). If you didn't equate gender with sex, then you wouldn't go to such great lengths to obscure the fact that most binary-identifying transgender people are also transsexual, that they want to belong to the opposite sex and not just the opposite gender, and that they want to adopt the gender associated with the opposite sex specifically because it would make them feel more like they belong to that sex.

It doesn't how matter how often or how vehemently you claim otherwise, you absolutely do conflate gender with sex, and it is one of the main reasons we take issue with your ideology in the first place. Women around the world and throughout human history have fought and bled and died for the idea that femininity, or a "feminine essence," is not what defines what it means to be a woman, for the idea that people of the female sex are oppressed on the basis of their sex and deserve not to be oppressed on the basis of their sex, and you people spit and piss on their graves and call feminism "regressive" while waving a flag with pink stripes for girls and blue stripes for boys.

#transgender #gender #gender critical #feminism #radical feminism #radfem #radblr #rant

[effeminate-wastrel]

Something fucking weird happened to me yesterday. A few fucking weird somethings in fact.

I was at a premiere party for a local comedian's special, maybe like 25-30 people in a little art commune backyard space, kinda place with a bunch of art sculptures and free ranging cats and a fun vibey vibe.

This comedian is one of those kinda 'i'm not a terf i just think maybe trans people could tone it down a little' lesbians who i first met through a trans comic friend (who no longer speaks with this comedian over some apparently terfy views) so i'm kinda already on red alert. But there's a few other trans girls there and generally I don't think this comedian is like hateful or even terfy i think she's just kinda catring to a certain demographic of queer people that aren't as progressive or whatever.

not my particular FAVORITE crowd of people or ideology but I'm interested in hearing and hanging out with reasonable people whose views are different than mine, assuming they are pleasant and not disrespectful, yknow, so i went into the party with an open mind.

i was being a social lil butterfly as i'm wont to do and i met this big burly beardy kinda guy, he seems chill, nice enough. Later in the party after a bit of weed and drinks have been slung, he comes up to me and asks if I can help him get some drugs. He asks if I have any Clomid. I haven't ever heard of it, I look it up and he explains it's a fertility drug for cis or trans women, he described it as an estrogen blocker and i guess it makes ovaries OR testicles more fertile if a trans woman has undergone HRT, I guess.

I'm a little dumbfounded and trying to figure out what the hell is going on, why this random dude is asking me for meds i know nothing about, and i'm desperately trying to figure out the context of this request. I'm making him a little uncomfortable with my questions, trying to figure out if this is a trans man, closeted trans woman, detransitioned trans woman, or i dont even know what, and i ask for a little bit of clarity.

he offers up, "well... i was a boy who got raped and spent some time where i thought i was a woman but now i'm on testosterone again and trying to have a baby" and i'm like... okay detransitioned trans woman i guess, and i'm like yeah sorry i have no idea if i can find anyone who could get these meds for you. I asked him why he was asking me and he said "[comedian's name but ALSO his partner's name, so i don't know which person he's referring to] said you were a safe person to talk to about this. Conversation basically ended there and i walked away from it thinking it was extremely strange, not knowing how to process any of what just happened.

Then later i meet another person who's detransitioned, she was 'being a guy' for a while then kinda ended up not resonating with it and is presenting femme again.

the party just kinda started closing in on me at that point, just started feeling like more people there might be detrans, is this the audience of people, is this the vibe of the party, did the comedian mean something else when i made a joke earlier to her along the lines of "yeah looking bad is so hot right now" (just lightly roasting gen z type style and all that stuff which isn't my vibe obvi) and she said "yeahhh you couldn't be more right" in a kind of way that i could have interpreted as being in reference to ME if she was saying something along the lines of 'you ugly man in a dress' if she IS a closeted terf orrrrrrrr

idk. so much of this is spiraling based on a weird experience and also RSD that goes haywire in situations where my transness has even a 10% chance of being related. but also like. maybe my intuition should be trusted and it really was a bad situation? i just wish i had some neutral way to find out what the hell was going on but it feels so fraught

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 5

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.4k 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.* Teasing, fluff, Dolly has low self esteem but it's not her fault, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: In the course of one day, conversations turn from right interesting to downright life-changing, as Max starts to learn the truth of your connection from you but also from his sire. Notes:  Big revelations are coming, folx! 🎵 Let's have a beautiful picture of the wonderful ballroom this week.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

You really should be paying more attention as Candance and Tracy talk through coven business. The room that you have come to know as the Green Salon in your inherited house is full to the brim with coven members all talking about the food drive they want to help out at for Thanksgiving next month. There are volunteer signups to follow through with and your own can drive to be organized, and you have to admit that this is the most community-focused coven that you've ever been a part of. But still you can't focus. The dreams have been so vivid lately, and they're such a mix of topics – your little bat friend pops up so often, and you haven't dreamt about Yayo in years. And now...now thoughts of Max are starting to slip in between the cracks and you aren't quite sure what it all means.

Mrs. Taylor smiles as she listens to the chattering of the coven. It's been too long since there has been life within these walls. He had been right in assuming that you would bring that life back to the mansion. Knocking on the door, she opens it to find several heads turned her way and she clears her throat. "Ladies, lunch is served."

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." Her appearance snaps you out of your daze for a moment, and you lend her a grateful smile. Breakfast this morning was simple because it was just for you, but Renee said that Mrs. Taylor had already been toiling away on lunch from early in the morning. She seems to revel in having people in the house again and you are the last person to want to deny someone the thing that makes them happy.

"Let's go in and we can start planning the masquerade while we eat," Allison suggests, pushing up from the couch that the two of you had been sitting on.

The housekeeper smiles before she disappears again. Aware that he is upstairs and once the meal is presented for the humans, she is going to take him one of the special blood bags that he requests when he is in residence.

The coven has preferred things ‘family style’ in recent years, even when Ms. Brown was a more traditional and formal woman most of the time. So Mrs. Taylor has set the table with bowls of fresh salad, baskets of warm homemade crusty bread, and tureens of steaming hot beef bourguignon. A few of the ladies, Allison included, all groan happily to have Mrs. Taylor’s cooking back. She pulls out a notebook to place at her seat but pauses, allowing herself what she thinks is a private smile when Eddie enters the dining room.

“Is it still alright for me to join you?” He asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and a nervous expression on his face as he looks around. The invitation is a week old and might not still hold, so he wants to check.

"Of course!" Allison leaps up from her chair, even though it technically should be you answering Eddie since it is your house. "I mean, I don't think anyone would mind, right?" She looks around the table and is silently grateful for when the girls easily shift down to leave a spot right next to her own chair for the vampire to sit.

“Of course.” When you echo your agreement that seems to be the end of any debate at all. “We were going to start planning the masquerade while we eat.”

"Oh, I have to admit, I am hoping that I am invited." He tells the coven hopefully, giving them a charming grin. "I have always wanted to go to a masquerade."

“Of course you will be.” Candace pipes up from across the table, where the bread basket is already being passed around. “You live here. It would be awfully rude not to invite you when you live here.” Of course, it’s for Allison’s benefit too. And for you, since you seem a little more relaxed around Eddie than most other people.

"That's good." He makes sure to pass the bread to Allison when it comes his way, not taking one for himself. "Is this - it's going to be a thing that requires dates?" He slides his hands under the table to rub them on his thighs. His hands aren't sweaty anymore, he doesn't sweat, but he is nervous.

"It could be." Allison worries her bottom lip as she takes a slice of warm bread and passes you the basket. "What do you think, Dolly?"

"It...it doesn't seem nice to make it mandatory," you admit, taking a slice of bread and passing the basket along again. You can't imagine anyone in the world would be your date to such a thing and you would hate to be excluded from the night for something like that. Especially, like Candance said, with it being held in your own house. "But dancing is always fun with a partner."

Eddie nods, sensing that you don't like the idea. "Then we should make sure that it's not required to have dates, but maybe the guest list is even to make sure everyone is paired up when it comes to dancing."

“Like dance cards?” The salad is making its way around now and once more Eddie passes it on while he listens to you. “As in…something old fashioned? Dance cards for everyone who wants one?”

“I don’t know what it would be like, but I love the sound of that.” He glances towards Allison and wonders if he can make sure that he is on her dance card more than once.

“Mrs. Taylor brought out some old photographs from past masquerades in the house.” You haven’t seen them yet, but you’ve been told that all the gowns were one of a kind and the men looked resplendent in their costumes. That’s what Mrs. Taylor said, with absolute rhapsody on her face. “A hundred and fifty years ago they would start the ball at ten or so at night, serve supper around midnight, and end the thing with breakfast at sunrise for whoever was left.”

“That sounds perfect.” Of course, Eddie knows why it was held at night, but he’s not going to say anything about that. “Are you thinking of keeping to that tradition?”

“How does it sound to everyone else?” You ask, looking around the table.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Of course, Allison would practically think anything Eddie suggests would be wonderful, but this does sound amazing. “It’s an ode to the past.”

“A return to the Gilded Age sounds fun.” Candace agrees. “We can do themed menus if Mrs. Taylor is okay with it? And encourage historical costumes?”

“I think that Mrs. Taylor would love that.” Eddie agrees. “She loves things like that. It would make her year. And I’ll help out wherever I can.”

“Thirteen of us, plus guests. That’s a fairly big party isn’t it?” You differ to Mrs. Taylor, who has popped into the dining room again to bring more bread like she somehow magically knew the first round would go instantly.

“Invite as many as you like, ladies,” she insists. Her smile is excited and eyes are twinkling like she has a secret she is just bursting to share. “This house can handle hundreds.”

“You could always invite the town as well.” Eddie suggests. “Make it the event of the season.”

“The whole town? Can we do that?” Tracy looks intrigued at the idea and glances around the table. “It could be a hell of a fundraiser, and I know we’re always looking for ways to do more good in the community.”

“It could be a ticketed event.” Eddie muses. “All proceeds going to the coven's charitable works?”

"It actually sounds like a whole lot of fun." The last time you organized any kind of dance or fundraiser was with your dance studios in high school and then in college, but back then it had been a blast to get decorations, refreshments, flyers, and all the necessary things sorted out for big events. It was a sense of accomplishment that nothing else quite seemed to give you. Bringing people together and seeing everyone happy? Your mother called it your hostess's heart, and had always said you would use it to help people one day. This seems like a beautiful way to make her words come true. "Tracy, you work at town hall, don't you? If we need any permits for serving alcohol or having a large fundraiser, would you be able to take care of them?"

“Of course!” Tracy beams at the thought of being able to help in any significant way. “I’ll find out Monday and let you know.”

“What about music?” Allison asks next. Everyone is starting to eat, and people are getting excited. And with Eddie sitting beside her, Allison has to admit that she’s more than a little excited, too.

“You know…..” Eddie tilts his head. “The orchestra group in college has been talking about needing to have more live events.” He sounds out. “To practice. What if I see if they would like to perform?”

“That would be perfect!” Candace lights up at the table and few of the other girls nod alongside her. “Gilded Age theme, right? Maybe we can make it like classical versions of pop songs? Like they did for Bridgerton?”

“I’ll ask them.” Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “It’ll be a challenge that I think they would enjoy.”

“I’ll ask Mrs. Taylor to look out for any old boxes of party decorations from long enough ago to be an inspiration for us. If we’re lucky there will be something in the attic alongside the clothing we borrowed this week. I sort of get the feeling that most things don’t get thrown out in this house.” As always, Mrs. Taylor’s cooking is off the walls amazing and all around the table people are humming happily and enjoying their lunch as the planning picks up.

“The house is basically a museum.” Eddie snorts, sipping his double walled cup. “What could possibly give you the idea they don’t like throwing things away?” He winks at you to remind you that he’s teasing playfully.

"It's a beautiful museum." Every day you spend here, you fall more and more in love with the house. There's always new details to discover. New intricacies in the carvings, new details in the paintings, new trinkets in the cases all around the hallways. "I'm glad everything got kept. It gives it so much more character than all the brand new houses that are just painted white and made of one big room divided by furniture you're not supposed to touch."

Eddie tilts his head, watching you smile, and he thinks about how far you have come since the first time he had talked to you. Even your posture is more assertive, as if you have come into your own skin. He would believe you had been turned if it weren’t for the steady thump of your heartbeat, mixed with those of your coven.

"So when are we doing this?" Allison has her notebook, and in the front is a calendar that is just positively chock full of little notes to herself but she flips open to it anyway. "Can we actually get all of this organized by the end of the month?"

“I’ve already aired the ballroom out.” Mrs. Taylor announces, having just come back from the tower. “As far as the menu goes, you tell me what you would like and it will be done.”

“Mrs. Taylor thinks we can manage it.” And for some reason that bolsters you more than almost anything else. It just makes you wish that you had someone to dance with. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Invitations, tickets will need to be printed.” She muses. “Perhaps an ad in the paper?”

"We can hand out flyers at the farmer's market," Allison nods, glad to see the infectious excitement go around the table. "It's going to be fantastic. I can feel it."

“Since your theme is the Gilded Age, the ink should be gold leaf.” Mrs. Taylor suggests. “There is a printshop in town that Ms. Brown would use.”

"You should take Max with you and check it out." Candace's suggestion takes you off guard and your eyes must get a little wider because she immediately adds, "You know...because he's business guy. Maybe he can make a deal on pricing or something?"

"Oh! I–uh–that's actually not a bad point." You wouldn't have thought to get him involved in any of this at all, but of course Candance is right. You have no head for business and that's literally all Max does. "I'll ask...see if he has any time to spare."

“Did I hear my name?” As if on an invisible cue, Max appears in the doorway of the dining room. “Ladies, ladies, speak my name and I shall appear.” He flashes everyone a charming grin but he smirks when his eyes fall on you. “Queenie, you are looking radiant, have you been plotting?” He asks playfully before he hides the one side of his mouth facing Mrs. Taylor. “I think you can take her.” He faux whispers loudly and winks at you.

"We were working out the plans for the Samhain Masquerade," you admit, probably the only one in the room who doesn't see the way you light up at Max's little joke. And only because you're too busy hiding a small laugh.

"Join us." Candance could not possibly be grinning any more widely and immediately shuffles her chair to one side to make room next to you for Max to pull up a chair.

Max looks over the food that is on display and grimaces slightly. “I’ll sit, but I couldn’t possibly eat.”

"Have an early lunch at the office?" Eddie guesses, a slight smirk going along with his raised eyebrow. He has a much stronger stomach for human food than Max does and doesn't mind still indulging in a bloodless meal from time to time.

“Lunch with the bosses.” He agrees, patting his stomach over the vest. “So what are you thinking? Aerobatic performers? Jugglers? Fire breathing?” He waggles his brows as he smirks at the table.

"We were talking about a theme." Having him sit next to you makes you suddenly hyper aware of yourself and you take a sip of your drink. "Making it an old fashioned Gilded Age thing with classical versions of modern music, food served overnight, and elaborate masquerade costumes. Even selling tickets and donating the proceeds to charity."

“That sounds fun.” Max chuckles. “Everyone will shit themselves to get exclusive tickets.”

“And we’ll be taking a poll of every guy who buys a ticket to find one good enough for Dolly,” Tracy adds, wondering how Max would react to that idea after seeing the way he had marked you at the Mabon bonfire. They had all seen it, and all understood that you had no idea it was Max. Which only makes the whole thing more fun.

That makes the grin slide off Max's face. Just for a split second before he forces his lips to twist up out of the pout that had taken over before you could notice. He's not going to make you think that he is controlling, not with the way you react to everything. "That's a tall order." He settles for a slight grumble in his voice as he leans back in his seat.

“Newport’s a pretty decent sized town, I bet we can make it happen.” She caught the slight slip in his expression and is fucking delighted by it. None of them have ever seen Max actually care about another being and it has the few of them that talked about it convinced that he must actually be feeling things for you. “We’re going to make sure her dance card is completely full.”

"Good luck." Max snorts, crossing his arms and trying to look smug rather than worried that he might not spend any time with you. It's a feeling he doesn't like. "She's not going to enjoy the stomping of the men who think they can dance because they took lessons when they were twelve and haven't trod a dance floor since."

“Well,” Allison’s head tilts in curiosity and she affects a fully innocent expression as she shrugs her shoulders. She knows you don’t like to be the center of attention but this is developing in an interesting direction. “I suppose it would be different if our girl had a date for that night.”

It feels like Max is being led somewhere and he really doesn't like it. But the idea of you having some faceless date that might try to take advantage of you, or hurt your feelings has Max nearly snarling in anger. Body tensing beside you like he's a guard dog about to attack until he hears your heartbeat speed up beside him, anxiety flooding your scent. "That would be up to Dolly." He manages to keep his tone light, almost cheerful. "She might not want one."

“I don’t know anyone.” Your voice is quiet, not liking the fact that there seems to be an argument brewing over you in any way, shape, or form. The only two men you know here are Max and Eddie, and you would have to be blind not to see Eddie’s interest in Allison. “It—it really doesn’t matter anyway.” You insist. “It’s been a long time since I danced.”

"You should dance." Max frowns as he turns towards you, ignoring Allison the second it sounds like you are contemplating not dancing. This is your party, after all. "Do you want to dance?"

“Well…of course I do.” He knows better than anyone that dancing means everything to you. Having to give it up felt like it would kill you. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not…I mean…I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like they had to ask me. That’s…not okay.”

He wants to roll his eyes at the stupidity of that statement, but he knows you will get upset. No one has to ask you. "You should go with me." He decides easily. "We are by far the best dancers and it's not like it would be taxing to pick you up." He jokes. "I can tell you who will stomp on your pretty dance shoes and who would be a moderately good dancer, though, not nearly as good as I am."

The entire table seems to hold its breath — half of them expecting the invitation and half taken completely aback by it. It’s not like Max Phillips has ever shown any one of them specific attention before. No. He usually hits on an entire room at once and then zeroes in on the most vulnerable. But you don’t know that side of him. You’ve never seen it. Max might be full of himself but he’s reasonably nice to you these days. He teases more than anything else, and you’re starting to learn his sense of humor. “You don’t have to do that.” You tell him, assuming he’s only asking out of pity. Out of some sense that you’re actually as pathetic as you think you are, which is absurd to everyone but you. “If you…if you want to look for someone else..I can be your backup date.” To you it seems like the best offer in the world. The most sensible and the most likely to alleviate whatever sense of duty he might feel toward you as a housemate. “It’s still weeks away. You never know what can happen.”

Max snorts and shakes his head. "I'm thinking about the competition, babe." He scoffs. "No one could keep up and it's better that the best dancers are paired together, right?" He knows he's cocky, that he's brash and the fear that you don't want to go with him strikes a cord that makes him slightly more bold than usual. "I'd rather have the best, and you're the best."

Unconsciously, your head tilts, surprise tempered with a swipe of confusion. “You’ve never even seen me dance.”

“I have.” Max responds vaguely.

“When?” The incredulous question comes out of your mouth instantly, knowing that you’ve danced maybe twice in the last year and neither time was in this house.

Online. That’s the real answer, but he doesn’t want to weird you out. Your competitions had been filmed. Instead he just shrugs and grins

“Well…” Slightly unsettled, you just shake your head and shift in your seat again. “You don’t have to decide now. I’m sure there’s someone else you’d like to take more, and you should be able to.” It hurts more than you expect, the idea that he would choose someone else over you, but you tell yourself to stop being silly. You’re nothing special. You never have been. And Max is…well, you’re starting to see how truly special he really is.

“No.” Max frowns when he hears the smattering of whispers and giggles but he doesn’t focus on that. Instead he’s looking at you. “We’re going together. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I want to.” It’s almost too hurried. Too enthusiastic. But once it’s out of your mouth there’s no going back.

“Then it’s settled.” Eddie says quickly. “Dolly and Max are the first couple for the masquerade.”

“Perfect.” Allison practically holds up her glass in salute. “If you wanted to, I bet we could make some pretty killer king and queen costumes out of whatever clothes Mrs. Taylor finds upstairs,” She suggests instead, having noted that Max seems to be the only one who calls you Queenie.

Max doesn't seem to get the reasoning behind that and hums thoughtfully. "If she likes it. I am easy to dress." He winks playfully. "Killer abs and all that."

“I—I really don’t need to be a queen.” You protest right away, feeling like that would be way too much look at me for one night. You’ve spent so long trying desperately to fly under the radar that you doubt you would even know how to stand out anymore. You’d end up looking like a little girl playing dress up and embarrass Max. And you definitely wouldn’t want to do that. “We’ll figure out costumes along the way.”

Max raises his brow and nods, sensing that you are not comfortable with the idea. Throwing his arm around the back of your chair, he leans in. "Just as long as we can dance, right sweetheart?" His tone is low, just meant for you.

“Right.” Just as instantly as you had become uncomfortable, that one thought soothes you, and in your gratitude you end up looking Max directly in the eyes for maybe the first time ever — there are entire worlds in his deep brown eyes and somehow this is the time you’re discovering it. At the table eating lunch with a dozen other people. “As long as we can dance,” you murmur in agreement.

******

He had spent the afternoon taking care of legitimate business. Things that he had to take care of instead of spending the rest of the day with the coven of witches like he had surprisingly wanted to do. He doesn't mind the witches, having nothing against them and finding them pretty entertaining, but he had really wanted to see you more relaxed, to see the smiles that have become more common now that you have settled in and finding your place.

The ballroom seems to call your name tonight, and you aren’t sure why. Or at least you would never admit to the reason. To say that you’ve been stuck on the thought of dancing with Max all day would feel utterly silly. To admit that you perked up at the mere mention of him while having dinner out with some of the girls from the coven makes you feel like a silly teenager. It isn’t worth it. He’s just being nice, and the last time that a guy was nice to you, you ended up in a decade-long abusive relationship with him. You’re just…you’re not the kind of person who can be in a relationship. Period. So you shouldn’t be daydreaming about it, either. Especially not mere weeks after being kicked out of Derek’s house. But you know damn well that you were emotionally done with that relationship well before the door ever closed behind you.

The thing about vampires is that they are blessed, or cursed with a keen sense of hearing. You would be mortified to know that every vampire in the house could hear you fart in your sleep. Most of them had trained themselves to block out the sounds of human prowling around again. Max couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, would be a better word. Drawn to the quiet strands of "The Blue Danube". Quickly and silently making his way to the ballroom, and to you.

You shouldn’t do it. You know you shouldn’t. Anybody could just walk in, and it’s not as though you are the type of person to show off. Or that you even could show off at this point. But you just can’t resist. The thought of dancing with someone — Max — has been in your head all day and you turn on some music on your phone to take some basic waltz steps around the ballroom all on your own.

He approaches quietly. His ears filling with the strands of the music, making his fingers twitch with the urge to join you when he sees you waltzing around the large, polished dance floor. You are grace itself, floating on air and seemingly carefree as your eyes close and the small smile on your face brightens into full joy.

A few turns around the floor with your eyes closed are all it takes to find your feet and your frame again, and in mere seconds it’s like you’re back in your first rehearsal room with your first real freedom after learning to dance. It’s a return to the easiest and most natural feeling in the world. And then, without even realizing anyone was nearby, someone steps into your frame and sweeps you up in the dance.

"Seamless." Max chuckles quietly as he enjoys the look of shock on your face. Starting to lead you through the steps as the music swells. "I knew that you would be flawless."

“Max…” Pure surprise has his name coming out in a breath of disbelief, but you don’t stop moving. He’s completely right. It was seamless. “I—I didn’t hear you come in.”

"I didn't want you to hear me." He chuckles quietly. "You were caught up in the music." His grin is wide and warm as he continues to lead you through the dance.

“It’s…been a long time.” For all your protests, you never miss a step or fail to follow a lead. Maybe your frame isn’t competition ready anymore, but Max’s hold isn’t demanding it.

"It doesn't feel like it." Max counters, moving you into a dip and smirking when you gasp before he pulls you upright again.

Ballroom dancers will tell you that when you find your perfect partner, it’s obvious. Steps feel surer and your hold feels truer. The rhythm of movement feels more natural. It’s something you had thought wistfully of someday long in the future, sort of the way you thought about your soulmate. Someday my prince will come, that sort of thing. You’re just shocked to be feeling that feeling in your gut when Max pulls you up from the dip. Like your heart has skipped a beat, but that only happens in movies and fairy tales. “I think it’s all down to a strong lead,” you manage, heaping the credit on him where you feel it’s due.

“Not from what I’ve seen.” Max tuts, backing you through the next few steps and leaning in before he pulls you back in the opposite directly. “You carried your partners before. It takes talent to lead and yet make it appear that they are leading.”

“Never managed to find my perfect partner,” you mumble, unable to shake the monumental feeling that yes you have but it’s only just now. “How have you seen me dance, Max?”

“YouTube.” He shoots you a grin, shameless now that he has danced with you. “Your competitions were beautiful and it’s amazing what you will find online now, if you know where to look.”

“I guess so.” It’s not something you ever would have thought to look into, but when you give it even a little thought it makes perfect sense. “Those were…the good days,” you admit. “The best days. Giving it up felt like it might kill me.”

“Why did you stop?” That has him extremely curious because he has seen how talented you are. Even now, every step you take is more poised and confident than the last. Dancing is so naturally in your blood that you are holding a conversation while doing it.

“Gotta grow up sometime, right?” It’s a bullshit excuse. You know it is. But what else can you say? The expression on his face says he doesn’t buy that excuse for a second and you sigh while he turns you both around the room. “My boyfriend wanted me to get a full time job,” you explain quietly. “Being home to take care of the house and make dinner every night meant there was no time for competitions or classes anymore. He— he wanted me at home.”

Max frowns, finding that to be a bunch of sexist bullshit. As much as he might have joked about having the little lady barefoot in the kitchen, normally that meant getting a snack before he fucked her silly and fed from her again. “Well, he’s an asshole.” He snorts, firming his grip on your waist. “You don’t make someone you love give up what they love.”

“It was…a bad decision all around.” As the song comes to an end, another one will begin right afterward, you just don’t know what it will be. The playlist you chose was just marked Classics. “It’s a long story. Not something you need to worry about.”

The urge to compel you is nearly overwhelming, but Max resists. Instead of commanding that you tell him, he just watches you. Letting his silence do the talking for him.

“I thought he was going to rescue me.” It comes tumbling out of your mouth when his eyes fix on yours, and you’re sure that it’s just your imagination that says he wants to know everything. “I had gotten stood up on a blind date and he—my ex— he came up to me at the bar and dried my tears and took me home…and I really thought that he was going to teach me how to grow up. But it’s obvious now how naive that is to believe.”

“Did he hurt you?” Max’s voice is soft, not wanting to scare you, even if he can’t help the darkness in his eyes. The anger that leaps to life at the thought of someone hurting someone as gentle as you are.

“I—” Yes. He did. He broke down who you were as a person and tried to reconstruct you into an automaton who would do only his bidding. And he almost succeeded. “It doesn’t matter now.” The tears that spring up in your eyes are unavoidable, and your feet stop moving with the heaviness that settles on your shoulders. “He got sick of me and kicked me out and then I came here. It’s done.”

A bad dance partner would have stepped on your feet, not able to avoid continuing despite the fact that you had stopped suddenly. Max doesn’t. He sweeps you into a hug that is encompassing. “He was a fool and you are safe here.” Max had wondered why he had wanted you here, now he wonders why he had not brought you here sooner.

It’s such an unexpected gesture, for his arms to lock tight around you, and you really almost break down sobbing right there in his arms in the middle of the ballroom. You find, though, that that isn’t the message that you want to convey to him — or at least it’s not how you want to convey the message. Your gratitude is boundless, but it boils down to just one thing. “I believe you.” Is what you murmur instead, burying your face in his chest as he holds you to him.

He stands off to the side. In a corner where it’s almost impossible to see him. Slippery as the shadows on the walls and twice as deceptive. Strong, white teeth flash in a smug smile. It was working.

The most overwhelming and surprising — well, maybe not most surprising, but it certainly surprises you at first — urge you have in your whole body is to kiss him. He’s never made a single serious motion in the way of wanting you, or being interested in you. He’s never done anything but be polite. But you’re so close to him now that you feel like closer is the only way to be and stepping apart even a little would be agony.

“Queenie…” Out of the corner of his eye, Max sees something. Head whipping up only to find a wall sconce. He had sworn he had just seen a flash of movement.

“I—I’m sorry.” He must have known what you were thinking somehow. Or you must have leaned in without realizing it. Stared at his lips accidentally. Something. But he doesn’t let you out of his arms when you start to pull away self-consciously.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Max looks back at you again. “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“I thought…” you look to the doorway too, but there’s no one there. Not even a hint of Renee and her duster. “Thought…nevermind.”

“Thought what?” Max prompts softly, wanting to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours. Dying of curiosity to know what you think of him.

“That you didn’t…” Your cheeks are burning hot on fire and your heartbeat is somewhere in the proximity of your eardrums rather than your chest, but you shake your head. “I thought you could tell what I was thinking. That’s why I apologized,” you admit finally, when his eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

“I could.” Max doesn’t know what you were thinking, but he’ll figure it out. “I just got distracted.”

“It doesn’t…” It doesn’t matter. It was a thought you’ve had far too many times since sitting and watching tv with him last week and he just doesn’t need to know that you’ve started dreaming about him. That’s…that’s far too much. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. If he really could tell what you were thinking then you can only assume how either disgusted or exasperated he is. But for some reason the knowledge that Max Phillips couldn’t possibly want you makes you crack apart like you’re leaving the dance studio all over again.

Max frowns slightly, not approving of the way that your eyes shutter, your shoulders seem to curl around in an effort to protect yourself. It's as bad as if you had flinched away from him, fearing that you would be hit. He slides his hand up your side and cups your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Queenie." He wants to kiss you, a feeling that he normally would act on, but he doesn't want to scare you. "When the moment is perfect." He decides, murmuring it out loud.

It’s not a rejection but it’s also not a full acceptance, and for some reason the unexpected space between the two things leaves you feeling like you’re in some sort of emotional limbo where all you can do is nod against his hand and try not to look too wistful at the gesture itself. It’s just wishful thinking that has you feeling like you never want him to let you go. At least, that’s what you’re going to keep telling yourself.

There’s a pregnant pause, a feeling in the air that makes Max lean in. Feeling that the moment is now. That he needs to get this urge to kiss you out of his system. Watching you to see if you pull away or panic fills your eyes when the front door opens. Startling him because he had been so entranced by you, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

Jumping away from him like a frightened children’s film or cartoon character, your whole face and body are on fire for so many different reasons but you bury your face in both hands and stammer out another vague apology before looking to the stairwell with frozen fear. “Eddie!” His name is a squeak in your voice and nothing more.

Eddie is there in an instant, obviously worried that Max had done something from the look the other vampire shoots him. Making Max narrow his eyes and huff at the assumption. The song fades and the silence in the ballroom settles awkwardly. “Dolly?” Eddie reaches for you. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He has awful timing, that’s all. But you’re not even sure that Max was going to kiss you. You could have been imagining it. “I—I think I’m going to grab a book from the library and turn in. Good night.” You announce, snatching up your phone and hightailing it to the library as fast as your legs will carry you.

Max huffs at Eddie. “Thanks asshole.” He grunts, rushing off towards the balcony doors that lead out to the gardens.

“What?” Eddie shrugs in complete confusion as you and Max both flee from the room.

******

Heading through the marble hall and into the library, you scoop the first edition copy of Rudyard Kipling’s Rewards and Fairies off the shelf where you left it that morning. It will make for good bedtime reading now that you’ve gone through both books you were reading previously. Quick as a mouse and just as quiet, you rush upstairs to your room with every intention of just locking yourself inside for the night. But there, sitting and chirping on your windowsill, is your little bat friend.

As soon as he had cleared the doors, Max had transformed. Not wanting you to run away from him, but he’s also found that you find comfort in his bat form. It’s interesting considering most are afraid of bats, but you pet him, snuggle him, and talk to him. He flaps his wings impatiently, telling you to open the window to let him in.

“Hey, Cutie.” It’s such a relief to see this little friendly face that what you once just called the bat as a descriptor has now become his name. Cutie is now featured in any number of bat things around your room, like little sketches tucked into the corners of your vanity mirror and the embroidered pillow that you brought home early on. You go to the window to let him in knowing that he will hop right into your hand, and leave one window cracked for him to leave by when he eventually wants to. It’s chilly, but you’re not going to trap the little guy inside the house. That would be cruel. “Were you waiting for me?” You croon, sniffing back tears of anxiety and instead focusing on petting his little head to soothe yourself.

Max chirps, acknowledging that he had been waiting for you, just not as long as you might think. He nuzzles into your hand for a moment before he shoots out of your hand, crawling up your arm and chest to curl into your neck.

“Awwe, I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Cutie.” The feeling of being hugged is as real and undeniable as being hugged by Max just a minute ago and you sniffle again before continuing to scratch the bat’s head. “Please don’t be upset with me…” Though how the little animal could show it, you don’t know. This bat is more expressive than any other creature you’ve ever known. “I…got caught up dancing. Haven’t done that in a long time.” A soft sigh escapes you and you peak down at the bat’s expression of curiosity. “Lemme put on my pajamas and I’ll read to you, okay? You seem to like that.”

Max wants to watch you undress, but even he isn’t that unethical. So he flutters off your shoulder to the chair where you sit every night he comes, reading to him. Landing on the arm rest and fluttering his wings as he folds them up, chattering at you.

It isn’t so much changing as just stripping down a few layers to your tank top, and you replace your jeans with flannel pj pants. You come out of your dressing room far more relaxed and pick up the Kipling from the side table before coming over to the chaise. “You want your nest, Cutie?” Sometimes he likes to curl up in your lap and sometimes he likes to be snuggled against you, but either way you plop down on the chaise and grab your ballet slipper throw blanket to tuck around you.

Max waits until the blanket is on your lap, hopping right into it and looking up at you. He knows you have a soft spot for this version of him, so he plays it up, cooing at you.

“Here we go.” Fixing the blanket so it’s slung over one of your shoulders gives him a cozy place to settle near your collarbone, and you could swear that the little bay must like the vibration of your voice or something because he loves to perch there. “I got us some Kipling tonight,” you tell him, feeling more relaxed by the second. “A little something different than the gothic novels I’ve been reading you.”

Max chirps again, surprised that you are in your pajamas. It’s the most amount of skin that he has ever seen on you. He decides that he will make a lap around you, get the full effect of your comfortable clothing.

“Is that an excited chirp or a chirp of protest?” Either way it makes you laugh. Just a quiet, half-huffed sound, and you open the book in your lap while Cutie takes off around your chair. He seems excitable tonight and maybe you need that. A little positive energy before bed.

You’re beautiful. He’s popping the equivalent of a bat boner from the innocent scene, unsure why you are so irresistible to him. You’re pretty and kind, but so are other women who don’t affect him as badly. Max takes another lap and damn near falls out of the sky when he sees it. Discolored skin, in an unusual grouping. A birthmark. Screeching wildly, Max dive bombs your arm to make sure he’s not seeing things. But it’s there. The matching mark that has been the only blemish on his skin since he had been brought back by his sire. You’re his fucking soulmate.

“You okay, Cutie?” He’s never lost his balance in the air like that and suddenly you’re worried there’s something wrong with the little bat’s wing. Twisting around and scooping him out of the air, you take a careful look at both appendages and don’t see anything wrong.

Those big eyes bug out even more and he squawks as if you could hear him. Soulmate. You. You’re his soulmate. There’s zero doubt in his mind that he knew that. And the fact that he kept it from Max infuriates him. But it also explains why Max was kept here. How long had he known? All of these things run through Max’s mind as he flaps his way out of your hold and immediately crawls his way up your arm to stare at your birthmark again.

"Alright, alright, if you want to hang out back there, you go right ahead." It's a weird choice, but you're the one talking to a fucking bat so who are you to judge? You just let the little guy curl up behind your shoulder and open your book to start reading. The ritual is something that you've started to find immensely soothing so you're going to appreciate every second of it tonight, while thoughts of Max still race through your head. Unshakeable and unwavering.

Just to make sure he’s not insane and it’s not some makeup covering some tattoo or whatever, his little bat tongue comes out to lick at your skin.

"What are you doing?" You twist to look at the bat over your shoulder quizzically. "Not like you can answer me, can you? It's just a birthmark, Cutie. Nothing to be confused about."

Max looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue swipe your skin again. Convinced it’s not makeup causing the discoloration.

“What is up with you, huh?” The book goes down to your lap again and you frown a little at the winged ‘pet’. He’s never licked you or anything before. Just nuzzles and chirps or squeaks while he cuddles into you. This is all new.

Max pulls his tongue back into his mouth and climbs up your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek and chirping again. Unable to vocalize the issue, but he doesn’t want you to shoo him off.

"How about I just cover up, then." He climbs back up on your shoulder and you pull the blanket around you, covering the little star-shaped set of marks on your skin that make up your birthmark. It must confuse his little bat mind or something. That's the only explanation you can come up with. "It's just some marks on my skin, that's all." You explain, rather uselessly. After all, what does the bat care? "My skin and no one else's. I used to have tattoos, too. But...well, the person that gave them to me is gone now. So I don't have them anymore."

Max flaps his wings, squawking indignantly. He’s right here. He wonders why he wasn’t allowed to have his tattoo put back. Some kind of punishment?

“You wanna be my soulmate?” Bats don’t have soulmates. Not that you’re aware of. Just humans, some species of monkeys, and some people think that dogs and cats do but that’s just wishful thinking. But then, what is this if not wishful thinking? Talking to a bat is as wishful as it gets. “Okay, Cutie. You can be my new soulmate. Since you’re a little bit spooky and like being read to, I think it’s perfect.”

If he could preen, Bat Max would. Your words soothes him instantly and he cuddles against your pulse, cooing and almost purring happily. You accept his bat form, and that’s half the battle in his mind.

"Yeah?" You giggle softly, glad for the now familiar feeling of the small winged creature cuddling against your chest. "Is that all you wanted? Just my never ending love and devotion?" This laugh is slightly more hollow, and you pet his little head with two fingers as you pick your book up again. "Somebody might as well have it. I don't think I trust myself to actually give it to a human anymore."

Max blows out a breath, actually needing to breath as a bat, funnily enough. He hates the idea that you are so hurt that you wouldn’t trust and love again. You’re too sweet to put yourself on a shelf.

"Just you and me, Cutie." You murmur softly. "That's all I need." Maybe. Just maybe. If you say it enough, it will be true one day. Unfortunately for your heart, though, it's already given itself away. And denying it won't do a single ounce of good.

Max listens to the sadness in your voice, still freaking out because you’re his soulmate and he can’t tell you. How would he explain himself? You aren’t to know that the residents of this house are vampires. On his orders. How would he explain that he has no marks? They disappeared four years ago when he was staked through the heart and turned into a blood splatter on the wall. The only reason he’s here now is because his sire, somehow your relative, took pity on him.

Reading is calming and before long you're yawning between paragraphs and curling deeper into your blanket. When you're on the verge of drifting off you stifle another long yawn and rub two fingers along your little bat friend's head. "I'm glad you came to say hello tonight," you tell the little creature, right before your eyes shut.

Max chirps softly, listening to your heartbeat slow down. Waiting until you are asleep before he moves. Changing back to a human form and watching you. Staring at you in awe, not hearing someone else approach.

He watches as his protégé stares at you. A smile curving his lips and exposing the pointed fangs. He senses the turbulent emotions in the younger man, able to sense what he is feeling since he created him. Linked in an inextricable way. He had hoped to visit you tonight, but he sinks back into the shadows with glee. You are already entertaining it seems.

******

Deciding that it is time for a conversation - not the one Max will want, but the one he will get for now – he disappears back downstairs and settles himself in the kitchen, knowing that Max has a tendency to go for a 'midnight snack' glass of blood before turning in for the night. Sleep is not necessary the way it is for humans, but rest helps to keep vampires strong. And Max is using quite a bit of stamina every night to transform in and out of bat form.

Max whistles as he comes in the kitchen, trying to put on an air of nonchalance as he grapples with the very real knowledge that his soulmate has been discovered. He had watched you for far too long, unable to move until you had shivered in your sleep. Picking you up and carrying you over to your bed as if you were no heavier than a feather, Max had tucked you into bed again. Closing the window like he had before and slipping out of the door to come down to the kitchen. Every step he had been taking away from you being one he was forcing himself to make.

His tendency toward dramatics is well documented, especially by those closest to him, so for him to be lounging in the pitch black kitchen when Max comes in and flicks on the light out of deeply ingrained habit? Well, it should surprise no one. The skies outside have torn open and the midnight rain is torrential, making the scene all the more delightfully gothic as rain pelts the kitchen windows across the room.

“Fucking shit.” Max isn’t afraid of much, but the sight of him appearing has the younger vampire jumping slightly, his dead heart nearly leaping to life in his chest. Relaxing slightly before he remembers. “Why are you here?”

“Business.” He answers, languidly rolling the word over in his tongue and drawing out the hissing sound of the last syllable. “Amongst other reasons.” There are already two glasses of blood poured and he gestures to the other side of the kitchen table for Max to join him.

Max snorts and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t refuse the invitation from his maker. “And does ‘other reasons’ include the human upstairs?”

“She seems to be settling in.” While it’s an observation instead of an actual answer, the older vampire shrugs one shoulder gracefully.

Frustrating, that is what the old man is. Hissing slightly, Max remembers that he also enjoys getting a rise out of people, so he leans back and picks up the glass of blood. “New pet?” He asks.

While he won’t give Max the satisfaction of a sharp reaction, he does set his glass down and let his eyes sweep over the younger vampire appraisingly. “As I understand it, she is the one keeping a pet. Not me.” He’s seen it with his own eyes. And while it’s unexpectedly charming, it certainly does represent a communication issue. “Or is ‘Cutie’ a different resident bat that I’ve not met before?”

It’s only because of the fresh blood that max has ingested that allows the flush to rise up under his skin. “She doesn’t know it’s any different from a regular bat.” He defends himself. How he knows about that, Max doesn’t know, but he always seems to know things he shouldn’t. As far as he knows, no one else in the house knows about his nearly nightly routine.

“She will eventually.” There’s spice in this blood. Something warm and tingling. Mrs. Taylor always somehow manages to provide the best of the best for him and he’s grateful to have had her for the last several hundred years. “One day she’ll know everything.”

“How long have you known?” That is the question that is burning under his skin. He doesn’t elaborate, knowing the elder understands what he is referring to.

“That she exists?” He is evasive by nature. Always has been. And he waves off the question with ease. “Her whole life.”

Max rolls his eyes again, obviously he should have been more specific. “That I am her soulmate?” He clarifies tightly.

“Oh?” One eyebrow quirks up in interest and he takes another sip of blood. “If that were true it would be a most interesting state of being. For you, of course. Entirely inconsequential to others.”

Max frowns, staring at the man who had changed him in college. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That I firmly doubt the soulmate status of one infant vampire will matter much to the general population of mortals in the world.” The immortals, he knows, will take a great interest. They did the last time a vampire and witch were soulmates and they will take an even greater interest this time.

Max takes a sip of his blood. “Stimulating conversation, as always.”

Amused, his sire almost smiles but just the ghost of the expression makes it to his lips. “Ask the correct question and I will gladly answer.”

It’s always a game with him. “What is she to you?” Max demands, leaning forward and his eyes are darker than they should be, directed at his sire.

It isn’t the right question, but it is an important one. One that he isn’t quite ready to answer in full, but he swallows and lets his eyes close for a brief moment. “Now that Cookie is gone, she is everything to me.” It is an honest answer, if not a whole one. And certainly more than he would have given Max at any other time.

Max sighs, aware that he’s not going to get the answers he wants from the older vampire. “What’s the correct question, then?” He huffs. “Since you want to play your little games.”

“What is it you truly want to know, Maxwell?” He tilts his head in curiosity, wondering what the most important question is to his protégé’s beatless heart. The correct question is the one that matters the most — Max has not learned that lesson quite yet.

Max growls, increasingly frustrated and sure he’s not going to get an answer to his question. His maker is some kind of mood and it is impossible when he is like this. “Is she the reason I’m here?” He asks.

“Yes.” Although the question might give Max complicated feelings, his sire’s answer is simple. There is no other possible answer, in fact. “She is the reason for much.”

“Fuck.” Max is aware that the program that he was selected for was very high stakes, pun intended. Most humans were eaten. “Is she-“ he stops, wondering if he really wants to know this. “Is my connection with her the reason I was changed?”

“Partially.” After another sip of blood, his sire chuckles at the purses frown on Max’s face. “You were always going to graduate the program, Maxwell. But she is the reason that I am your sire and not a lesser vampire.”

“Because she’s somehow related to your soulmate?” He still doesn’t know the relation, but that’s because he’s never cared to ask. Not that Mrs. Taylor would spill if he didn’t wish for Max to know.

“Now you’re getting it.” The intention was never to keep the entire truth from Max. Never. But to tell him before telling you? He may be unscrupulous, but he is not uncaring.

“Why does one distant relative matter so much?” Max asks, frowning again. Since his own family turned their back on him, he’s hardened himself against that sort of connection.

“Have you ever known me to be careless in my decisions?” The honest question is not meant to be a trick, but it is meant to make Max think. “Have I not kept my family as close as I am able? And the families of those I have sired?” It may also be ever so slightly evasive, but he will not apologize for that just yet.

One thing Max can say for sure is that he is not careless. But it brings up another question. “Then why have you not brought her here sooner?” He huffs. “She’s been abused, that much is obvious.”

Shame is not a thing most creatures like to feel, and he likes it even less than most. But unfortunately shame is what he must endure, and for once he lets his protégé see the emotion in his face when he finds the younger man’s eyes. “I tried everything in my power to find her before now, but I was prevented. Kept from her. And I will never let such a thing happen again. Not for all the days I roam the endless earth. It is our duty now, to protect her. Yours and mine.”

Max bites his lip and nods. “I don’t know what she thinks of me.” He admits. “She’s more comfortable around the bat than the man. It’s- I’m drawn to her, now I know why.”

“She seemed quite fond of dancing with you.” Which is no small thing, and brings a smile unburdened to his lips. The fluffy pink tutu, tights, and shoes he had bought for an eager four-year-old spring to mind immediately. “Perhaps she ought to be trusted with the truth. That the bat and the man are one.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “And how should I do that?” He asks jokingly. “Just transform in front of her? She doesn’t believe vampires are real.”

A sigh overtakes him. Weary and far more emotional than he would normally let on, but your disbelief at the existence of vampires hurts more than he can possibly say. “She knows, in her soul. In her heart. But her mind has been bound from believing it.”

Max frowns slightly and rubs his tongue over his teeth. “It sounds like you believe she was supposed to be raised in this world.”

“Because she was.” A flash of anger in his eyes has to be tamped down before he says more than he should, but the point is firm. “She was born to it. She belongs here.”

“Okaaaaaay.” Max’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the passionate answer. Sometimes it seemed like Cookie was the only thing the older vampire cared about. Obviously you are just as important, though the connection is still vague. “It’s not like she’s your daughter or something.”

His sire huffs, burying anger and sadness back under mystery where they belong, and shakes his head. “A witch and a vampire having a child? What a fantastical thought.” His tone has turned droll under the guise of heaviness. “That would be the stuff of Legend if it were true.”

Max snorts and sends him a small smirk. “As if you aren’t already a legend.”

“Am I?” That flash of mystery and amusement graces his features and Max’s sire sits back in his chair. “I had nearly forgotten.”

It’s not like he had bragged about it. Max had to learn of his sire’s exploits through the rumor mill that seems to power a college. Even a vamp one. He wasn’t one to boast or rest on his laurels apparently. Max hadn’t known how great the honor of him being his sire was until he was nearly graduated. And just now, he’s learning the reason why he had turned him. “Aren’t you?” Max asks, taking another sip of the warm blood. “Maybe not.”

“If you want to bait someone, Maxwell, go find Eddie and tell him flannel has gone out of fashion.” He chuckles at his own joke, taking the last sip of blood from his goblet. “Understand fully, though, before you leave me tonight. That Dolly is of the utmost importance. She is the only priority that matters.”

The weight of his words settle on Max and he bites his lip before he voices the concern. “Should I- would you prefer that I leave her alone?” He asks, unsure of why he would be giving such an obvious warning.

“If that was my wish, you would never have known she existed.” His sire tells him honestly. “You would not have be among those I deemed worthy of eternal life, and you certainly would not have been brought back after that stunt four years ago.” He shakes his head, wishing now for wine more than blood. Something to temper the emotional rollercoaster he has been on since you were finally located weeks ago. “You have been brought here for her, Maxwell. Endeavor to be worthy of that honour.”

“I don’t think she wants romantic entanglements.” Max admits. “She’s - skittish and I’m….” He trails off and shrugs. With his sire, it’s a lot easier to admit shortcomings. “Not.”

“But it is what you want?” Knowing Max as he does, it takes a great deal of willpower for his sire not to play on Max’s usual cocky side. This is too important for that anyway.

“I-“ Max stops, unsure of how to answer that. He wants you, but he also knows that you aren’t ready for something like that. It’s why he had spent so much time as the bat lately. “For her to be happy.” He decides. How that happiness looks is up to you. He’s already been selfish and he’s paid too high a price to chance it again.

“Good.” There may not have technically been a correct question to ask earlier, but there was certainly a correct answer to this one, and Max has hit on it. “You will tell her the truth soon. She’s made of stronger stuff than whatever she’s been through.”

It sounds like an order, but Max nods. “I hope you are right.” He tells the vampire who had turned him into what he is now. “Otherwise, we ruin the only safe place she has.”

“It is all the stronger for having us in it.” He reminds the younger vampire. “In the meantime, not a word to Eddie or anyone else. Only Mrs. Taylor knows I’ve arrived.”

His brow lifts again, but he doesn’t say a word about it. “Then back to the tower with you.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate sunday #crossover fic #tw past abuse

[igotanidea]

Bodies : Hotch x reader (part 2 to cold weather)

previous part

You would think that the end of the year would be a nice, peaceful time filled with joy and reflection about the passing year, and probably somewhere in the world it was like that. However, when you are a DA in one of the busiest cities in America, you can only quote some comic heroes while saying: the crime never sleeps.

To put it bluntly, Christmas and New Year’s Eve were nothing less, but a perfect opportunity for both petty criminals and organized crime groups to commit atrocities. Theft and assaults were – well – as tragic as it may sound – normal - but in the crowd of people at the city events there were always a risk of something bigger and worse.

Killing.

Shooting

Bombing.

You live and you learn.

And Y/N had seen enough of it, both in her career and in her private live to behave cautiously even though it was not her job to secure the place or make sure everyone was safe. But hey, here comes a surprise – being DA is not only about inspecting dead bodies and prosecuting killers.

For her – it was about people and serving justice.

Truly. Not only in theory.

And given her experience she knew something big was coming making her dread.

***

“JJ. I’m being serious.” She was sitting in her office, talking through the phone with her friend from the BAU, who also happened to be the only person who could get the whole team of agents to come. “this whole situation is serious. I can’t let it accure.”

“I can only do as much as present it at the briefing.” JJ responded though it was clear in her voice that she was struggling between her professionalism and sympathy for the young DA.

“Right. Sorry.” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose swirling in the chair nervously while looking at the street below her. Full of police officers, CSIs, reporters and very characteristic yellow tape. “Didn’t mean to be demanding. I’m just – “ the words barely got through her throat but Y/N was pretty sure if there was anyone trustable in the whole wide world it was definitely JJ “ I’m kind of desperate. This is way beyond my pay grade.”

“I promise I’ll do my best Y/N, but it’s not my call.”

“Yeah, I know….”

Oh yes, she did.

There was too much to risk and Y/N could not sit in her chair doing nothing. If the mountain won't come to Muhammad, then Muhammad must go to the mountain. 

***

“Y/N!”

“Get out of my way Morgan I’m here on business.”

“Oh wow! Slow down Katrina.” Morgan chuckled and  Y/N raised an eyebrow at him “The hurricane.”

“I understood the reference.”

“What’s with the stormy attitude then?”

“Where is he?” she swiftly avoided the answer getting straight to her point.

“Can’t you at least say hello first?”

“Hello Morgan. Now where is he?”

“Who?”

“Stop playing with me.” She warned throwing daggers at him. It was the first time anyone at the BAU saw her act like a force of nature and even Emily couldn’t hide the amused smirk of approval. Y/N was finally showing her true side as driven and strong DA and not the withdrawn public prosecutor’s trainee they met her as. And it was both admirable and terrifying, especially to Reid who was so taken aback that his mouth hung open for a moment. The girl  woman, who saved him from drowning some time ago was a lioness and after the initial shock, he was the one to point her to the direction were the reason of her visit has been currently sojourning.

***

“The local authorities-“

“For god’s sake Hotch I am the local authority!”

“The mayor-“

“The mayor is a knucklehead who can’t speak publicly without having the speech written by ghostwriter. He has no idea what’s happening in his own backyard. And frankly I don’t think he cares.”

“You’re forgetting yourself.” Deep, calm and cold voice of the BAU chief was an evident contrast to his smirk and watchful eyes. Y/N was definitely a view when she walked into his office with a face expression so stern it could match his own.

“Oh I am?” she spun around, loosening the collar of her shirt, since the situation was making her blood boil. A little gesture that did not slip by the agent, even if he didn’t let it show at all.  “Okay then. I’ll calm down and resort to your way of understanding.”

“Which is?”

“Logic, obviously. You have no imagination whatsoever. Everything must always make sense to you and form a perfect whole. Let me present it to you then.”

“Please.” Hotch responded, still calm and collected pointing the chair to her. “You know the rules.” He added when she finally took the place instead of walking around his office like a caged animal.

“I got a killer on the loose.”

“Yes. Like many other states and cities.”

“A very specific kind of killer.”

“You’re wasting my time.”

“And mine apparently.” She muttered

“If you excuse me I got-“

“No.”

“Sorry?”

“I won’t excuse you. I’m here for something and believe me I won’t leave until I get what I want.”

“You’re being-“

“Unreasonable? Crazy?” she leaned slightly forward, almost leaning on his desk “Go ahead. Think what you want, I’d rather consider myself driven and concerned about my people. It’s part of my job to make sure no more families cries at night because some psycho is on a killing rampage. And you’re the fucking BAU supposed to –“

“I know my duties.” Hotch cut her off getting a bit agitated by her behavior.

“Do you now?”

“Leave L/N.”

“Nah, don’t think so.”

“You have no authority here.”

The sudden slap of a paper file on his desk didn’t make as much dramatic effect as she expected, but got his attention regardless.

“Come on Hotch. Don’t be shy, open it.”

 The ruffling of the pages was the only answer she got as Hotch’s eyes were moving though the file and the photos attached, scanning through every detail and blood mark on the bodies of the killed. Every line, every cut and wound inflicted on the flesh had a meaning. They both could sense in their bones even if didn’t make any sense at the point.  

“Bet they didn’t show you that, did they?” she whispered taking in his seemingly unfazed expression.

“This is-“

“Yeah, I know.“ she bit her lip hard enough to make it turn red from the pressure.

“Try to not bleed on my papers L/N.” his eyes flickered to her mouth for a split second.

“Look Hotch, I know we have our differences, many differences, but please.” She noticed, but decided to drop it due to the more urgent matter than his gaze and the sudden wave of heat. “Please work with me on this.”

She sighed hating the fact she was forced to plead with him. But it was all for the greater good and if that was what it took to ensure safety and peace in town – so be it.

“Why?” his dark eyes landed on her, piercing right through and it made her shiver in the same way she did when he grabbed her hand at the lake when they were working together before Christmas.

God, she hated her feelings. It was job, for crying out loud, and she didn’t need any exposure. Aaron could read her like a magazine, and it was very uncomfortable, to think he knew her better then she knew herself, while hiding his own motivations and emotions at the same time. Treating her like a mouse he could play with.  

“What do you mean why? Why do I want you to come?”

“Why are you pleading with me? You’re proud. You’re hot tempered. You do what you believe is right even if it violates someone else’s rules and patterns of behaviors.”

“And procedures.” She smirked

“Yes.” He nodded “So why?”

“You really want me to say it, don’t you? Some ego-feeding agent Hotchner?”

He looked at her in predatory, warning way even if his whole posture was revealing he was the lion falling for a lamb.

“Fine. Fine! You’re my last hope. I need you.”

Hotch’s face expression didn’t change even in the slightest when he stood up and opened the door motioning her to walk out.

“Aaron I –“

“Y/N.” He shook his head and waited patiently till she finally moved from the chair, defeated.

So she fought and lost and now the stupid mayor, who was only caring about the pretenses and appearances would be on top.

Over her dead body. She would catch that killer freak herself even if it meant –

“We’re going to Washington.“

Wait, what?

Hotch’s voice got through to her brain, but his words made no sense to her.

Did he just say -?

She frowned and looked at him in a bit of confusion.

“why does your action and your words never match?”

“Better get yourself on the plane L/N.”

“Since when do you take additional passengers?”

“Since I need to keep an eye on a rowdy DA, who wants to pursue a dangerous criminal on her own.”

“I did not-“

“You did.” He muttered handing her the coat in a very telling gesture

Um. Thank you?

“Are you concerned about my safety or something now?”

“You’re reckless and tend to put yourself in danger. I’m always concerned about your safety. Who would be my partner in investigating the bodies if something happened to you?”

Sure.

It was all about the bodies.

Not necessarily the dead ones though.

And very natural human instincts, even if forced to stay in hiding.

@somest1 @taygrls

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

[emissaire]

FOOL'S GOLD - 「 CH.1 」 BOAT ON THE WATER

࿈ PAIRING: jake sully x reader

࿈ WARNING/TAG(S): pining, fluff, mentions of death, soft! jake [ lmk if i missed anything! ♡ ]

࿈ SUMMARY: this chapter briefly shows reader's dynamic with the sully kids and mostly jake's thoughts about her

࿈ NOTE: enjoy! don't be shy to send in asks if you have any questions regarding the fic! also please check out the na'vi words below that are used in this chapter for reference ↶↶

sa'nok = mother // paywll = dapophet // yerik = hexapede

࿈ NEXT CHAPTER ▷ MASTERLIST

You came like a hurricane, knocking Jake off his feet, making his knees weak and tearing him away from what he knew was solitude. He was no longer a lone boat in the middle of the sea, you're there with him— stirring up the waters and rocking his stronghold: a wall he's built to protect his heart from the ache that leaves a part of him chipped and broken.

How do you ever forget love like that? He found himself asking in his mind all too often before you, mostly when he's alone and it's just his late mate's memory that accompanies him. Now, all his thoughts are about you, flooding every nook and cranny of his mind, festering even in his feelings to the point he doesn't know what to do with himself. It is pathetic. He is pathetic for hanging on every single word you say and the little things you do like he's the young, playful and naive version of himself once again.

Initially, falling in love with you was out of the question. He was still grieving for his mate, the hurt still fresh in his memory but you were a hurricane— unpredictable and commanding without trying. He's sure that even the toughest of men would crumble when they behold you, when they see you. It was so easy to adore you but so hard to love you. Easy when you tuck his youngest to bed with a song, easy when you dote on Lo'ak despite the boy's tendencies of getting into trouble, easy when you boast about Neteyam to the other women among the clan, easy when you're the presence Kiri looks for when she's in doubt. Yet when it comes to him, you always close the door every time he tries to occupy even the littlest bit of space in your heart and mind, you snuff the fire in his resolve— it's so hard to love you because you never give him the chance to.

"Sa'nok, what is this flower for?" Innocent Tuk looks at you, head tilted to the side in pure curiosity, holding up a paywll in her small hand. She's sitting beside you on the mat, tinkering and inspecting every plant you've laid out across the drugget.

You smile at her eagerness to learn, bringing up a gentle hand to pat her head before answering, "That's a paywll, dear. It can help to soothe the skin if burned and—"

"And help speed up the healing process of a wound!" The little girl proudly intercepts, eyes bright upon remembering the plant's purpose: something she's learned from you.

You can't help but laugh, nodding your head in affirmation. "That's right!"

"Are you trying to be your ma's new apprentice?" Jake's voice fills your ears, light and teasing as he strides in towards yours and Tuk's place on the mat.

You don't know when it happened or how— you've gotten used to Tuk calling you mother despite not being her biological one, and somehow it fills your devoid heart with warmth every time you hear it from her, but when Jake addresses you as the mother of his children, that strange feeling bubbles up inside you so uncomfortably it makes you want to hide from him and from everything.

"I want to be like mama someday!" Tuktirey claims, a toothless grin present on her face.

Your eyes dart to Jake's face, gauging his facial expression like you always do when you think you're getting too close and diving in too deep— you never want to disrespect his late mate. Neytiri was a fearless woman, she made a name for herself and proved to be an amazing person through and through. But you don't see any trace of discomfort on the Olo'eyktan's face, there's nothing there but an adoring smile towards his daughter and a pensive glint in his eyes. "Yeah? Sa'nok's amazing, isn't she?"

Whether he meant you or Neytiri, you don't muse on it much. Under circumstances such as yours, things like that didn't matter. 

"How did the hunt go?" You ask Jake without looking at him and despite that, you know his eyes are on you, watching your every move like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your skin, burning hot and always inquisitive like he wants to know something but never has the courage to ask.

"It went well. Näfol took down one of the biggest yerik in today's hunt." He tells you, the name of your younger brother falling past his lips so proudly it's like he's speaking of him like he was his blood relative.

Näfol has always been timid, often keeping to himself which only worsened when your parents died in battle, fighting valiantly against those wretched humans. It feels like yesterday when you were in your own village, your mother and father at your side and leading your people to enlightenment in Eywa's embrace.

"That's great." The elation in you is evident in the way you hum with a small smile, happy at the prospect of having your brother warm up to the Omaticaya people, especially their Olo'eyktan.

"Dad, I want to go outside." Tuk's voice rips you out of your thoughts and you look over at the duo sitting on your side, Tuk with her hand grasping her father's arm in a seemingly cute display of persuasion.

The sight makes you giggle a little before you turn away quickly, not wanting to invade the father and daughter's moment. You miss the way Jake's smile broadens at the sound of your laugh, hearing it in pleasant twinkling bells as he allows his daughter to take off to play with her siblings outside.

Sleep has become a challenging task now, never knowing peace anymore when the constant fear of those demons returning gnaws at your sanity, but Jake makes it less of a burden when he holds you close to his chest as if you're dear to him, anchoring you back to reality in his arms, dwarfing your much smaller figure in his warmth.

"You're fine, darling. I'm here." He whispers against the skin of your forehead where he had pressed a kiss on just moments prior. His voice is groggy, a clear sign of exhaustion but just like always, he never lets you stay up all night alone, never leaves you to your own thoughts when it's most destructive.

You told him countless times— even before you consummated and made the sacred bond, that he didn't have to coddle you yet your words just seem to enter one of his ears and out the other because every night, he's always there waiting for when you come apart at the seams, showing him all your vulnerabilities.

"Jake, go back to sle—"

"I will in a moment. Just let me love on you." His arms around your waist tighten, his nose burying on top of your head, and you let him. Just like you always do because you're a hurricane: unyielding and formidable, but try as you might to dishearten a ferryman on a mission, you're but a storm that will pass— the turmoil in you will calm, maybe not so soon, but it will. Jake knows. He believes so.

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work of emissaire, 2023 - plagiarism is a crime

#📚 emissaire: fool's gold #livre: daisy #avatar #atwow angst #atwow x reader #avatar angst #avatar fluff #jake sully x reader #jake sully fluff #jake sully angst #jake sully x y/n #jake sully x you #avatar x reader

[lightseoul]

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou imagine #bakugou fluff #bakugou angst #bakugo x reader #HSJAHSJAHSAJ i hope yall like this T____T #i wrote this in two days and significantly hurt myself in the process #i love and hate angst

[f1letters]

bejeweled | ln4

"and I miss you, but I miss sparkling"

summary: after a triple-header where they couldn't see each other, things got even stranger when her boyfriend seemed totally uninterested in spending time with her. so, she took matters into her own hands

warning: a little bit of angst, but fluff ending, mentions of a long-distance relationship, Lando being an uninterested boyfriend, reader feeling ignored and worthless, reader being petty, mentions of alcohol, swearing, reader trying to make Lando jealous, mentions of McLaren's bad 2022 season and Danny leaving the team (crying 😭), not proofread

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 2.7k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

masterlist

Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind

Didn't notice you walkin' all over my peace of mind

In the shoes I gave you as a present

Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five

And by the way, I'm goin' out tonight

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.'

Y/N couldn't keep count of the number of times she had heard this phrase being said during the past two years. 

She prayed that people were right. That distance would make their relationship stronger, their time together more special, their appreciation for each other bigger.

She hoped her heart would mend every time he came back home but in all honesty, she just felt... lonely.

From: babe

only a few more days and the torture is over, can't wait to kiss you again gorgeous, miss you 🧡

Y/N read Lando's text over and over again, daydreaming about their reunion after so long apart, as the driver had three races in a row at Spa, Zandvoort and Monza.

It didn't matter how many times Lando called or texted. How many times he expressed how much he missed her. How many times he said how excited he was to see her again.

In the end, it was exhausting spending her days simply waiting for him to be there.

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

I could still say, "I don't remember"

Suddenly, the jingling of keys on the other side of the door caught her attention. Y/N turned towards the entrance where she saw the image of her boyfriend appear through the darkness of the night that filled the apartment.

Quickly getting back on her feet, the girl rushed to him, hugging the boy desperate to return to her arms. His body relaxed as soon as it made contact with hers and Lando let him pull her as close to him as possible.

"Fuck," Lando whispered against his girlfriend's forehead, whose tears of relief now streamed freely down her cheeks. "I can't believe I'm finally back home."

"God, I swear it was the worst weeks ever." The girl confessed, although it was common to be apart for a long time since her work did not allow her to follow him most of the time. "I've missed you so much, Lan. So much."

Grabbing her gently by the sides of her neck, the driver looked straight into her bright, tired eyes. "Me too, baby. But now we have two weeks to ourselves."

For a moment everything fell into place. But it was only a matter of time before it all came crashing down again.

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real, I polish up real nice

After spending the night lying next to the boy she loved, Y/N couldn't control all the excitement she felt inside her chest.

Very early in the morning, the young woman got out of bed, leaving the sleeping man behind, and headed to the kitchen where she went all out to celebrate his first morning back in Monaco.

With the utmost care and love, she cooked just about everything: scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, you name it. And as soon as everything was ready, Y/N returned to the room and jumped on top of the British man, now awake on his phone.

"Good morning, sunshine!" The girl said, as she hugged his hips and laid her head on his stomach. "I made the best breakfast ever just for you, baby. So you better be hungry." 

Her laughter was quickly interrupted by the boy's surprising coolness towards her. "Good morning, but I think I'll pass. I still feel super tired from the flight, so I'm going to stay in bed a little longer." Lando set his phone back on the bedside table and, running a hand over the top of her head as an act of apology, continued. "I hope you don't mind, love. It's just for today."

It's just for today, he said.

The next day, still under the wave of happiness, Y/N tried her luck again and decided to approach her boyfriend again to make plans, now that he was already feeling more energetic and recharged.

Lando spent the morning jumping around the house, so when Y/N saw him walk back into the room, she dropped to her knees in her seat, turned around and leaned on the back of the couch.

"Lan, what if we went out to dinner at that Thai place we went to last month?" She asked, her head turning slightly as she remembered their meal. "I swear I'm still thinking about that Pad Thai."

Lando continued his way to the kitchen, opening the fridge to get some water. "Hmm, maybe another time. Don't feel like going out."

And with only a few words, he disappeared again into another room of the house.

On day 3, the girl was caught off guard when she saw her boyfriend with a backpack on his back and his hand on the doorknob.

"Hey, where are you going?" She questioned, curious.

"Just going to the gym with Carlos." He replied, eyes on the phone in his other hand.

"I thought you were tired." She blurted out. At that moment, the persistent girl decided to be direct and confront him. "Is there something wrong? You've been so distant lately."

She had barely seen him even though the two of them shared the same house. It was getting embarrassing how much she tried to engage in conversation with him, only to get rejected every single time.

The driver just spat out a string of words, including 'busy with business' and 'training', but nothing soothed the uneasiness she felt in the pit of her stomach.

Baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl

Did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve

I think it's time to teach some lessons

I made you my world, have you heard?

I can reclaim the land

And I miss you

But I miss sparklin'

It just didn't make any sense.

What happened to the 'week to ourselves? To all the 'I miss you' and 'I can't wait to see you' he said?

It got to the point where she was even starting to question every time he told her he loved her.

A week passed, and in a last attempt, Y/N walked up to her boyfriend and placed her hands on his shoulders, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

"How about we watch a movie, cuddled a bit on the couch…?" She suggested, whispering close to his ear.

Lando placed a hand over one of his girlfriend's hands, looking back to meet her gaze. "Sorry babe, but I'm going to stream with the guys now. Maybe later."

Maybe another time. Maybe later.

She had been a little too kind and she was done playing nice.

It was time to teach him some lessons.

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

I could still say, "I don't remember"

Y/N entered her room and confidently walked to her closet. She knew exactly the garment she was looking for and as soon as she laid eyes on her shiny bejeweled dress, she picked it up.

Leaving the clothes she wore behind on the floor, she changed into the stunning dress and sat in front of her mirror, curling her hair and doing her makeup.

Her eyes ended up dark and smoky, perfectly adorning the determined and vengeful look on her face.

Grabbing her small Prada bag, Y/N walked to the room where Lando was already streaming, catching the driver's attention.

"Hey, I'm already live." He warned her, as he turned to see his girlfriend. Laying his eyes on his girlfriend all dressed up, a nervous shiver ran down his spine. "Where are you going looking all polished up?"

"Don't wait for me for dinner," She answered coldly, even though she knew the people in the comments were going to have a field day with this. "And by the way, I'm going out tonight."

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real, I polish up real nice

As soon as she walked into the room, she made the whole place stop with the shimmer of her dress under the spotlight.

If Lando wasn't going to give her the love and attention she deserved, she sure as hell was going to give it to herself.

Y/N was finally done with letting her worth be determined by a man, even if he was supposed to be the love of her life.

Sapphire tears on my face

Sadness became my whole sky

But some guy said my aura's moonstone

Just 'cause he was high

Walking towards the bar, the young woman couldn't help noticing the eyes that fell on the fascinating and beautiful image that she was.

At that moment, although she missed him and the good times of their relationship, she was reminded of how much she missed sparkling.

Y/N ordered two tequila shots and drank them without missing a second. She now felt prepared to start the night, leaving her problems behind.

Dancing as she made her way to the middle of the floor, the girl began to sway her hips to the music, between the hot bodies glued together in the room.

Tonight was all about her.

And we're dancin' all night

And you can try to change my mind

But you might have to wait in line

What's a girl gonna do?

A diamond's gotta shine

Back home, Lando couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension and anxiety that gripped him.

As much as he tried to keep his good spirits and attention on his friends, his followers and the game, his mind was elsewhere: her.

His eyes roamed the chat as he interacted with some of his fans until one of them made his heart stop beating for a second.

teamlandofewtrell: have you guys seen Y/N photos clubbing? I smell trouble in paradise lol

The man cleared his throat, trying to maintain his posture. "Guys, I have to go now, but I'll see you very soon!"

Without further explanation, Lando grabbed his coat and the keys to his McLaren and headed towards her.

And as soon as he entered the club, he immediately found her.

The furious boy walked over to her, grabbed her arm and pulled her to a more sheltered corner, only to find her surprised and upset eyes.

"What the fuck were you thinking?!" He shouted over the music, unconcerned by prying ears. "First you make me look like an idiot on stream, then I find out you're alone in a club doing who knows what. Are you all right in the head, Y/N?!"

"You're worried now, are you?" The girl laughed sarcastically. "That's fucking rich."

"You have to be fucking kidding me. It has to be." Lando ran his restless hands through his hair nervously. "All because I didn't want to see a movie with you today? That's it?"

"Today, of course. The problem is from today." She continued her ironic tone. "You know what, Lando? It's about time you realized that just because I made you my world doesn't mean I can't claim the land."

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

And when I meet the band

They ask, "Do you have a man?"

I could still say, "I don't remember"

Lando was shocked by her confrontational words, as it was a side she rarely showed.

"Stop this nonsense, Y/N." Lando snapped, gripping her arm with some force. "Let's go home now, and tomorrow we'll talk when you come to your senses."

Out of nowhere, a man approached the couple. "Hey, is everything okay here? Do you need some help, babe?" He asked her.

Y/N recognized him as the vocalist of the band that was performing when she first arrived at the scene.

"It's okay, thanks." She replied, freeing her arm from her boyfriend's hold and letting her burning eyes lay on Lando's face. "This man was about to leave."

"If you need to come with me, feel free to join, gorgeous." The singer said, looking her up and down. "Do you have a man? 'Cause if you don't, I sure could be yours for tonight."

Even though she was uninterested in the man's suggestive proposition, she couldn't pass up an opportunity to entice the driver. "I don't remember."

"She has a fucking man, now get the fuck off." Lando spoke out aggressively, having no patience left for her foolishness.

Familiarity breeds contempt

Don't put me in the basement

When I want the penthouse of your heart

Diamonds in my eyes

I polish up real, I polish up real nice

"You have the nerve to show up here playing the role of the victim when all you did this whole week was ignore me," Y/N yelled, losing her mind. "Day after day, I made a fool of myself and tried to approach you, to make plans with you, to do the things I know you like to see if you would change your shitty attitude but nothing."

"From the second you arrived, the only thing I got from you was a cold shoulder and indifference. And honestly, I'm fed up, fed up with your behaviour when all I did was wait for you, all alone and miserable, while you fulfilled your dreams."

Lando remained glued to the ground, unable to move as he tried to assimilate all the angry words she spat in his direction.

"So if you have anything else to say to try and ruin my night, you might have to wait in line because I don't have the time to do so right now."

And we're dancin' all night

And you can try to change my mind

But you might have to wait in line

What's a girl gonna do? What's a girl gonna do?

I polish up nice

Eyes to the floor in embarrassment, the driver gently grabbed her hand. "You're right, I'm so sorry, love."

"What?" She blurted out, not believing the sudden change in him.

"You're right, I've been an absolute prick to you lately," The boy looked into her eyes, his gaze filled with regret and sorrow. "Those last three weeks weren't just bad because I was away from you. It was bad news after bad news and I just ended up taking it out on you unfairly."

"Lan, you know you can talk to me about anything." She softened and stroked his hand. "What's wrong?"

"Everything, honestly." He sighed, saddened. "The car is shit most of the time, I can't seem to get out of 7th place ever, Danny is leaving the team next season and, as if it couldn't get any worse, I spent all weekend getting asked about it like I had some power over the matter."

Y/N knew her partner was feeling especially down over losing yet again another teammate he really cared about, so Lando's anguish came as no surprise.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, really." Lando apologized again. "You didn't deserve all of this."

"Baby, I'm here for you. Always. Through thick and thin." Y/N brought her lips to his, letting her hands grip his curly hair as she leaned into his kiss. "Let's have some fun, dance a little, and make up for lost time, what do you think?"

"Lead the way, gorgeous." Lando kissed her again before she led him to the centre of the floor.

Gathered in their bubble of love again, Y/N, who once shone like a jewel, now shone like a true diamond with the light of her life reflecting on her side.

Best believe I'm still bejeweled

When I walk in the room

I can still make the whole place shimmer

taglist: @dan3avocado @starxqt @roseinnej @spiidergirlsworld @ccloaned @hotpigeon22 @dr3lover @lovelytsunoda @primadonnasdream @luxebeautystyle @wallfloweriism @ilivefortheleague @gwynethhberdara @satellitelh @adavenus @audreyscodes @wifeoflucyboynton @th6ccnsp6cyy @classifiedsblog @flyingmushroomss @motylekrozi @claramllera @gabrielamaex @handsupforamiracle @pierre-gasssllyy @lorenaloveslewis

@idkiwantchocolatee @simpforsunwoo @kissatelier @xweirdxsceletton @micksmidnights @miniminescapist @inchidentwithmax @hopelesslyromantics-world @alwaysclassyeagle @indieclarke @capela-miranda @okokoksblog @pulpfixion @sins-only33 @sainzclerc @allisonxf1 @honethatty12

@amsofftrack @scuderiamh @junkiespromise @loudoperahumanoidpanda @honeyric3 @holy-macncheese-balls @ricciardosheart @pierreverstapkin @ravenqueen27 @majkaftorek @home-of-disaster @buendiabebeta @itgirlofnowhere @roses-of-eden @thewintersunset @rubychocolatechips

(taglist continues in the comments)

thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 imagine #f1 one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris #ln4 #f1letters #f1 x reader #f1 x taylor swift #f1 x midnights #Spotify #lando norris one shot #formula 1 one shot #lando norris angst #lando norris fluff #ln4 x reader #lando norris fic #f1 fic

[kookslastbutton]

Love's Remedy ༓ jjk (m) l Ch. III

✑ Summary: Jungkook is a romantic. He comes from a highly intelligent family who wants him to carry out the lineage. Being this way, he goes to college to be a pharmacist but his friends say college isn't just about studying! With a little persuasion, he goes to his first frat party thinking his hat will help him pick up a girl-or woman he means.

Pairing: STEM major!virgin!jungkook x STEM major!hot girl!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, fluff, s2l, college au, mini-series

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4,378

Warnings: jk is very determined to "win" oc, jk a romantic, oc has philophobia (fear of relationships), protective!koo again, oc is an engineering student, PC Bang, jk is a king at LOL (League of Legends), jk lowkey flirts with new person, oc gets cold feet but please don't blame her 🥹, jk and oc get on level ground after hashing things through, themes of stalker-ish behavior (not oc or jk!), feat Jackson and Jae-beom, if i missed warning lmk!

Now Playing: seven, summertime sadness, she’s kerosene, angels like you+

A/N: For reference a PC Bang is: "a type of LAN gaming center and Internet cafe in South Korea, where patrons can play multiplayer computer games for an hourly fee". Also, I am not a gaming guru but I try for this chapter that means I researched haha Enjoy! 💞

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A week later, Jungkook waits for you at your agreed rendezvous point; for over an hour. You promised to meet him near the campus garden at 7 pm but here it is almost 8 pm and you're a no-show.

He checks his phone for the fourteenth time since arriving–no reply.

Jungkook tries not to jump to conclusions but you broke your word and you ghosted him.

He thinks back to last week when he'd stepped between you and Jun-ho. And when you followed him back to his dorm where he told you he could love and take care of you, as you helped patch his wound. Had he come on too strong? Did you get into more trouble that he didn't know about?

He kicks a few pebbles by his feet, sending them flying in every which way, as the number of endless possibilities rattles his brain.

"Stupid," he cusses himself. "You're just so fucking stupid."

How could he believe that after two short weeks of random run-ins with you that he'd earn your interest? You told him you don't do relationships yet he still shows up, anxiously presenting himself as your knight in shining armor. Any sane person would tell him he was barking up a dead tree.

"Might as well get a head start on next week's homework." Jungkook loses hope, trotting back to the dormitory with the wind howling and mocking behind him.

"What do you mean she ditched you?" The boisterous inquisition belongs to Jackson who's looking thoroughly offended once hearing his new best friend was shown up. He isn't sure how much this woman meant to him, but either way, it makes him livid. Even if you weren't going to go out with him, you should've at least told him like a decent human being.

"I really thought she'd come," Jungkook replies with his heavy eyes. He walks alongside the blonde-haired boy, dirt crunching below his feet. "Guess she had something better to do."

"No." Jackson stops in the middle of the road. "You know who actually has better things to do? It's you. What do you say to hitting up the PC Bang downtown? Play a little League of Legends or Overwatch?"

Jungkook shrugs with less enthusiasm than a snail. "Sure…"

"Hey man," Jackson puts a hand on Jungkook's shoulder. "I'm sorry about you and __. It sucks being stood up. I've had my fair share and you just gotta take it as a blessing that nothing else happened between you both. Nine times out of ten, it didn't have anything to do with you either so don't blame yourself. Take it as a lesson and keep working on yourself until the right person shows up. They'll be the person you can truly give yourself to."

"Hard to believe you've been shown up. You're charismatic, confident, in good shape, have good facial features, and you're getting your MD." Jungkook's aware of his friend's attempt to lift his spirits but he can't fathom anyone not giving Jackson the time of day. Due looks like a pop star in the making.

"Nah, most of what you just said is me bullshitting my way through life. I'm not all that," Jackson rejects, striding forward. "I got rejected by a girl a few days ago myself."

"Had a boyfriend?"

"Nope, just didn't like me. And she doesn't go out with first -years apparently."

"Oh," Jungkook's eyebrows shoot up. "She was an upperclassman?"

"Yup, on her third year."

At this Jungkook's mouth gapes open. "No wonder she said no. What the hell are you doing trying to go out with a third-year?” The accusatory tone spins Jackson's head–he's a sad little puppy with you but a bulldog with him. What a puzzling fellow.

"Same thing you're doing trying to convince someone who doesn't want a relationship to go out with you."

Jungkook dials back his previous assertion. "We're idiots."

"Correction. we're dreamers." Jackson slaps him on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go burn some shit up at the internet cafe."

By the time he and Jackson get to the cafe nearly all the computers are taken. It's no surprise since PC Bang's are quite a rave amongst university students like themselves. You can play the hottest games for hours while stuffing yourself full with whatever food's served on the cafe menu–all for a small fee of course.

"Let's go here." Jackson manages to grab two free id cards from the counter–guiding them to two empty PCs, side by side to each other. "How long do you want to play for?"

Jungkook sinks himself in the leather gaming chair and powers on the machine in front of him. "I'm good until 6 pm, but then I should head back to my dorm and do homework."

"Cool, same for me. We'll play for three hours then."

"What should we play?" Jungkook tosses the headset over his ears and scrolls through the game options. Jackson does the same.

"Kinda in the mood for LOL." He flips to the game's screen card. "Gonna need to join a team though."

"No problem.," Jungkook clicks the game on his own pc until the loading screen covers his view. "So many people play League of Legends. We'll be able to find one in no time."

Jackson nods and opens LOL himself. "Let's kick some ass."

"Fuck yeah," Jungkook mumbles, inaudible to everyone but himself.

An hour passes and he and Jackson have been hammering their opponents into the digital abyss. The thrill and surge of adrenaline cause him to forget previous heartaches–aka you. Plus, after finding a team of three to jump into; one member who happens to be female, Jungkook's been able to turn his attention to other prospects.

"Soomin, how long have you been playing LOL for?" Jungkook decides to learn more about his female teammate after claiming the final victory over the opposing team.

"Five years," her raspy voice comes through his headset. It sure is a unique voice, he notes.

"Same. We should play on a team more often. In fact, Jackson and I are thinking about building an official LOL team so we could use a third person. You're really good so if you want, we'd love to have you." Beside him, his friend gives him a confused look. 'We are?' he mouths silently which Jungkook ignores.

"Wait really?" She pauses a moment. "I've never been on a permanent team before. I guess that'd be cool."

"I play late at night sometimes too. Meaning if you ever wanna jump on with me shoot me a message or something."

"Alright, I'll jot down your username."

"Already got yours memorized," he says, a tad more cocky than he meant.

"Damn," she cusses. "You work fast. By the way, do you go to university?"

"Yeah, I go to Seoul National University."

"No way, what year are you? I attend there too. I'm a second-year."

"What?!" He nearly hits the ceiling once the information is disclosed. He had no idea Soomin would be this close and that he could meet her in person. call him eager but should he ask her out? No…he's already made that move with you and look where it left him. He'll ask to hang out first. "We should meet Soomin. As long as you don't mind that I'm a first-year that is," Jungkook chuckle lightly and looks over to Jackson who immediately gives him a double thumbs up.

"Well I'm kinda busy this week but how about next week? Also, if it's good with you, can my boyfriend come?"

Fuck. If this is some kinda joke he'd like to catch a break any time now. Not that he was as intrigued with Soomin as he was, or still is, with you but he definitely thought it was going somewhere!

"You're dating?" Jungkook watches Jackson lower his double thumbs up, frowny face on.

"Yeah, we've been together for a year. Met as classmates." When she giggles Jungkook has the unexpected urge to roll his eyes. Of course, you did, he mutters, just a perfectly peachy coincidence for you two.

"Well that's nice," he says bitterly.

"Oh, I'm sorry Jungkook. He's actually calling me now so I have to go but I'll talk to you soon. And message me when you want to meet. I'll tell my boyfriend about you!"

Great. Jungkook bids her goodbye and she signs off.

"Sorry about Soomin. She seemed cute." Jackson slides his headset off his ears to rest them around his neck. "But you know what? You're still a force to be reckoned with inside the virtual world. I honestly don't know how you do it."

Jungkook grins shyly and slips his headset on the desk. "I've been playing for a long time. Must be something to do with that." He throws a hand over his abdomen when his stomach rumbles at the same time. "We should order food." He browses the cafe's extensive menu on his pc. Nothing but rows and rows of tasty options flash back at him, urging him to spend fortunes.

Still, he's got to cap it at some point with only about 2,000,000 Korean won (about 1,500 USD) in his bank account. The Jeon family is wealthy but Jungkook is not. His parents are especially careful to inform him that generational wealth is not going to be given to him freely. Instead, he is to earn his own money, starting at the car wash which he worked at over the summer.

"I'm getting an order of Tteokbokki and a soju. What about you?" Jackson punches in his order, sparing a glance at Jungkook who's tapping on his keyboard with one hand while the other rests under his chin.

"The Jjajangmyeon looks good. I'll get that with a soju too." After Jungkook enters in his own order he strolls his chair out from under the gaming table. "Do you see a bathroom around here?"

"Yeah, it's all the way to that far right corner." Jackson points in that direction with his thumb.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

Bathroom, bathroom, bathroom.

Jungkook repeats the simple word to himself. He scans the corner Jackson gestured towards earlier but sees nothing except a giant blank wall. Must have meant the opposite direction. He turns himself around to scout the other side of the floor.

"Excuse me sir-" a voice chimes close behind him.

"Oh sorry." He steps aside to let the young lady by and as soon as he does his whole body jerks forward in shock. "__!"

You turn around with the tray of food in your hand in what looks like a work uniform. "Yes, what can I do–Kookie?" You grip the plastic tray firmer to keep it from shaking uncontrollably, though the clamminess of your palms makes it a challenging task. Seeing Jungkook at the place you work was bound to happen being that the PC Bang is close to the university. You just weren't prepared for it to be tonight during one of your last shifts of the season.

"I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, only part-time." After bumping into Jungkook moments ago, you found it inevitable to avoid him further. You agreed to meet him outside once your break started. "I'm planning on leaving before the semester gets crazy. I have about a week left probably."

It dawns on Jungkook that he doesn't know what you study so with shifty eyes and clenched fists, he asks. "What are you going for?"

"Engineering." You can tell he wasn't expecting that for an answer; most don't be a woman in the field and all. "Jungkook, let's not do this. I'm sorry about what happened the other night." A sick queasy feeling settles in your gut–you're well aware you did Jungkook wrong. You're not proud of it in the slightest and him standing in front of you right now only reminds you of your guilt.

"I waited for you __. You said you come even if it was a rejection." A twinge of hurt laces behind his words and he keeps a controlled stance. He doesn't get in your face, demanding for an answer, nor does he break down and cry. He's more inquisitive than anything else. "Where were you? Why didn't you come?"

"I–" You intertwine your fingers, a nervous habit you picked up in childhood. "I panicked Kookie. I'm so sorry."

Jungkook stiffens when he hears the endearing name drop from your soft lips again. It was nice at first but now it feels like a sharp pain twisting in his side, like a thorn only for his misery. "Can you not call me that, please? It's–It's making me uncomfortable."

"Oh god," you lunge forward out of instinct but freeze when he steps back. "Jungkook I really am sorry. I was planning to see you. I had my shoes on and everything. Like I said I panicked, I'm not suited for relationships. And I'm not suited for you."

The last part stings the most.

"But–"

“There’s no buts Jungkook." You place your hand on the door of the building. " I have to get back to work."

"Wait!"Jungkook moves to face in front of you from an angle. "You say you're not suited for relationships but why did you get ready to see me? Why didn't you just say no to me? And last week when you told me you needed more time to think…was it a lie?"

"Because I like you okay? You're cute, protective, sweet, but you like me too much." you release the handle. "You don't know anything about me yet you've already got into a fistfight with an obscene jerk for me and claim you'll wait for me even when you just met me. If you love me this much now how much more will you love me later?"

" I'll love you for eternity."

"See this is it, Jeon. You saying stuff like this before anything real has happened between us–it's too much. How can you be this devoted to basically a stranger? You'll love me for eternity but have you considered that maybe I won't?"

"What are you saying?"

"What makes you think I'll love you as much as you do me?"

" I don't think like that __. I don't want a relationship so I can see what I can get. that's not how my mind works. I understand that I've been very forward with you. I should have been more conscientious about how that would make you feel but when I say that I love–"

"Please, don't drop the 'L' word. If you're saying love then you don't love me; only the idea of me."

Jungkook pauses, wordless

"Never thought of it that way huh? Guess not. Let me ask you something…do you know what I do? With men?"

He swallows and shakes his head no

"I sleep with them. A new guy a week if not twice a week. People call me a whore, and I'm spreading my legs for everyone and anyone willing. Do you want to get involved with someone like that?" You wipe away an escaped tear.

"I don't care about that at all __."

"Well, you should! This is who I am Jungkook. I can't let you be responsible for me. So unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

"__!" Your manager shoves the front door open, causing you and Jungkook to jolt in surprise. " Where have you been? We have about twenty orders that need to be served."

"Sorry Manager Choi. I'll get right on it." You spare Jungkook one last glance before disappearing back inside the PC Bang. "I'm sorry," you say with a lowered head.

That night Jungkook lays on his bed, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts list. His logical side whispers for him to delete it. His heart says to call, text, or do something to–no. He remembers your pained facial expression; on the verge of tears as you explained to him that he'd been too quick in making his mind up about you. But then he replays your final words.

"…unless you want a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits relationship, I suggest you forget about me. I can't be your girlfriend."

Well, he doesn't want the first two but if it meant he could be in your life longer–stop. His logical side intrudes. "You don't want to go down that path," he matters to himself. "It's better if you just delete the number." Jungkook moves to tap the trash can icon on your phone contact, a pang in his chest. Just as he's mustered up enough strength his phone buzzes off, screen lighting the entirety of the darkened dorm room. His roommate groans at the sound and rolls over in their bed.

"Jungkook," said roommate rubs his face. "I have an 8:15 tomorrow morning. Please speak take it in the hallway."

Jungkook quietly jumps out of bed not solely because of courtesy to his roommate but also because it's from you.

"Jungkook… can you um…"

"__?" He eases the door shut behind him and paces up and down the hallway. "Are you there?"

"Can you meet me at the bus stop near the campus library/ I'm sorry to be asking you it's just that…Jun-ho's–"

"What is it? Are you okay? What about Jun-ho?"

" I'm taking the bus back from work and he's on the same one he keeps staring at me and I'm scared of following me back to my dorm. Please Kookie-Jungkook I mean. I don't have any right to ask you, I know. He won't try anything with the bus driver here but once I get off I'll be alone. I have some pepper spray in my bag–"

"Yes, yes I'll be right there. How far are you out?" This isn't about pursuing you, impressing you, or anything like that anymore; it's about your safety. Jungkook leaps into his room, grabs his wallet, and shoves the sneakers on his feet. "__? Did you hear me?"

" I'm five minutes from the stop. Oh, he's, he's still staring at me."

"Don't look at him __. I'm walking down right now. Stay on the phone with me. I'll be waiting for you when you get there okay?"

"Thank you Kook. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. If Jun-ho's tracking you down like a wolf, it'll be his funeral." The icy tone in Jungkook's typically warm, milky tone sends a shiver up your spine.

The bus you're on pulls up in exactly five minutes, as you estimated. Jungkook frantically searches for you through the window glass, growling when he sees Jun-ho standing up a few rows behind you. He makes sure to be as close to the bus's exit doors as possible so he can grab your hand as soon as you step out.

"Hey!" He greets you loudly. "How was your shift?"

"Great! We were running around like crazy but thankfully, I didn't have to work through the night." You cling his hand tighter, slinging your other arm around his.

"That's a blessing." Jungkook and you walk faster, putting more space between you and Jun-ho. "You must be tired."

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to slee–ah!" You trip over a ledge on the sidewalk. Jungkook grips you before you completely fall flat on your behind.

"New feet?" He can't help but joke and you slap his arm. Jungkook helps straighten you back up, your hands remain interlocked. When it comes to a split in the road, you and Jungkook filter to the right side towards the female dorms. You hope to god Jun-ho takes the left.

"He's such a fucker." Jungkook curses, peering over his shoulder just enough to see Jun-ho faltering at the intersection. He burns holes at both of you so much that it makes Jungkook feel like kneeing him in the gut but he doesn't want to provoke the bastard–putting you in unpredictable danger. "I'll get you to your dorm. Which one is yours?"

"Up ahead." You gesture at the brick building with the number 318.

"We can let go of our hands now." You're the first to speak after arriving outside your dorm.

Jun-ho thankfully did not follow you any more than back at the split in the path between male and female dorms. The fact that he still attends school here makes your skin crawl. You don't exactly like calling people a mistake but Jun-ho is by far an exception. You messed around with the guy one time while you both were a bit tipsy and he keeps hounding you. If you need to, you will make him stay away from you permanently.

"Promise me you'll get a restraining order on him if this happens again or gets worse." Jungkook ignores your suggestion to release your hands. "That idiot has no right to be around you."

"I will. Thank you for coming out. I was nervous to call you being what happened earlier. I truly, from the bottom of my heart, am sorry. And I know having to go back to work left things hanging so if there's anything else you wanted to talk about or tell me, please feel free."

"Anything for you–" slips out of his mouth before he can stop it. He slaps a hand over his mouth instantly, you chuckle softly.

"It's okay Jungkook," you reassure. "I can tell you wear your heart on your sleeve. You're naturally very accommodating and flattering."

"And you're beautiful. Damnit, I did it again. I'm sorry __, but whenever I look at you I feel butterflies and I say a lot of fluffy stuff. I'm not trying to flirt or impress you by using what can be in the right context, shallow methods. But yeah, I was thinking about what happened at the cafe earlier tonight and I think get it–I've been too quick to the draw. I'm honestly not sure why I'm so attracted to you other than the fact that you're breathtakingly gorgeous in literally every way, both physical and non-physical. It makes me want to know you more. And the fact that assholes like Jun-ho won't leave you alone makes me want to be your personal bodyguard or something. I don't lift as much as him but fuck, I can keep him in his place. I'm starting to sound crazy, aren't I? It's like you said, we're strangers after all…right?"

Jungkook waits for you to respond. The cool autumn air is crisp against your cheeks, not cold enough to see your own breath, but enough to have you secretly grateful for the warmth that comes from his hand. That's right, you've been clinging onto his hand for dear life for the past fifteen or more minutes. You should probably let go now if weren't for the fact that he's also clinging onto yours just as hard.

"You really want to know me Kookie?" You brush a few strands of his hair that have blown in front of his eyes. He's incredibly handsome now…how did you not see it before? Sure he's cute with his bunny-like smile, mole on his button nose, and his adorable voice that makes you oh so soft and comfortable inside. But he's also handsome with his piercing oak tree-colored eyes, perfectly sharp jaw, and eager yet tenacious energy that always seems to show up for you.

Jungkook takes your other hand in his, swinging them between you both. "Of course," his earnest voice chippers. "It’s next to impossible for me not to want to know you. I'm sure I'll eventually move on if that's what you really want, but if there's another alternative that can avoid that I'd like to take it. You seem to be in deep thought about something…" he switches up his response when he notices you don't look as alert as you usually do. “__.”

"I'm here," you say, the tiniest bit dazed. "I was just thinking about something."

"Yeah I know, but about what?"

You swallow before replying. “…You.”

Jungkook smiles sheepishly. You're unsure if he's pleased or nervous. "Is it–is it something good or should we leave it here?"

"Are you free tomorrow?" You bite the inside of your cheek, begging yourself not to take it back. "It's Sunday so I get if you have some last-minute studying to do. Just thought maybe we could do something….together." Jungkook goes to reply, cheeks more than raised but you continue speaking before he sounds a word. "It's not a date per se. I'm being crazy annoying but I'd like to be friends first with something extra."

"You said no to friends before though. This isn't an offer to be friends with benefits is it?"

"That was when I wasn't sure what I wanted with you if anything. I didn't want to take advantage of you or anything. I want to start as friends so we can see if we can somehow be more. I'm interested in you Jungkook so no, not friends with benefits but rather, friends with the potential to be more."

"Okay," Jungkook squeezes your hands. "I can do that. What do you want to do? What time do you want to meet? What do you want me to wear?"

"First of all, if we're going to do this I'm going to need you to treat me like your bro. Wear what you want, we can meet afternoon and we'll figure it what to do along the way." You think your suggestion is fair yet it's crystal clear that it's not ideal for Jungkook, given the pout on his face.

"I don't want you to be my bro though," he whines.

"We start as bros or we're not hanging out." You're firm because you want this to work but you know yourself, and you need to take this slow.

"No wait, okay. Bro it is. You'll be the prettiest bro of mine."

"Jungkook," you snort, undignified. "That sounds weird."

He shrugs, "I'm weird when I'm with my friends. Especially when they're as pretty as you, it makes me all dumb because I can't seem to think straight anymore."

"Alright Romeo," you say, face flushing. "Save the rest for tomorrow."

<< ch. II ༓ ch. IV >> | series masterlist

A/N: This was originally going to be three chapters but it will be extended 😶 Lmk what you think and if you wanna to be tagged fill out tag form or ask 💞

Masterlist

Taglist:

@hoseokteardrop @skzthinker @igchochi @jksjx

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagine #bts scenarios #fic:lovesremedyonfire #kookslastbutton

[lokisprettygirl]

Brokenhearted (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon Modern AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: A missed period causes Daemon to snap at you again.

Warning: 18+, Smut, sex, Reader has a personality, Discussion of mensuration and Pregnancy, arguments and angst, flashbacks of abusive relationship, sexual abuse, traumatic distressing content, Daemon is a big time smoker so if it’s something triggering don’t read it, he’s not the best boyfriend, alcohol drinking, mention of past trauma and therapy, cigarette smoking, possessive behaviour, some violence, baby needs therapy, baby is trying

"You were famous" you mumbled softly as you went through the pictures on his phone. It was Sunday and you shared your day off with him so you both were in the bed just relaxing for once, you were sprawled out on your front as you scrolled through the images on his phone from the time he used to fight professionally.

He had saved some memories from the past, moments that he still cherished. His mouth curved into a smile as you said that and he pushed himself up on his elbow to kiss your cheek, you tilted your head so his mouth trailed down over the length of your neck.

"I wasn't actually that popular, just known amongst the people who watch the sport" he mumbled so you hummed in agreement.

"Have you ever been with a woman that knew you?"

"Are you asking me if I have fucked a woman that knew who I was?"

"Yeahhhh?"

"I have..once or twice" you nodded as he said that and pecked him on the lips.

It's been two weeks since his birthday party and the opportunity that was presented to him by the chairman of UFC federation and you were trying to make him open up to you about why he didn't want to fight anymore.

"Don't you miss it?" You asked him so he chuckled,

"Fucking other women? No ..you wear me out enough darling " he said playfully and it made you smile,

"I know I do but i was referring to your fighting days. Don't you miss being in the ring?" He averted his gaze and shrugged as you questioned him,

"Noo" he mumbled before he laid down on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"Okay" you got on top of him but he immediately flipped you underneath him, he still had an issue with you being on top of him and you didn't really mind, you wanted to give him all the time he needed.

"Did you always aspire to be a chef?" He asked you so you nodded.

"Mostly yeah, a part of me did"

"And what about your ideal mate? I'm sure I'm not the type you must have imagined for yourself" He smirked as he questioned you.

"Not the type? You mean tall, sexy and handsome type?" You chuckled so he shook his head and kissed you, his fingers hooked around the waistband of your underwear and he lowered them down.

"The fucked up and damaged type"

"You're not damaged baby..and we are all fucked up in one way or another" you mumbled softly as your fingers caressed his scalp,

"Whatever helps you sleep at night" he snickered as he pushed his cock inside you slowly, you winced a little so he looked at you,

"Something wrong?" He pulled out of you so you squeezed your eyes.

"No it's just my tummy, I should have gotten my period like ten days ago and I still don't have it" you answered calmly but you noticed the immediate change in his demeanor, he took his cock out, buttoned up his pants and got off the bed to stare at you.

You felt awkward now so you sat up and fixed your clothes as well, you knew you had said something wrong because he had that typical look of panic on his face.

"Dae?"

"How …come?..Why..why why are you missing your periods? I thought you were on pills? Are you not?" He asked hurriedly.

"I am.. of course I am..it's just.."

"Just what then? You think you're pregnant somehow even though you were popping your pills?" He raised his voice a little and your eyes teared up,

"Daemon calm down please ..I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant "

"Oh you're sure? Well if you're sure then I should just believe you right?" He snickered as he crossed his arms.

You fell silent for a moment because you didn't want to escalate this argument further, he usually calmed down after a few moments of outburst but this time he seemed particularly triggered.

"Are you fucking someone else? because this child in you can't be mine" Your mouth opened in shock at his words, you glared at him as he said that and immediately got off the bed to storm out of his room,

"Where the fuck you're going huh?" He asked you as he followed you.

"Talk to me when you are willing to listen okay?" You said to him as you grabbed your bag and stormed out of the main doorway, you heard the sound of something breaking inside as you waited for the elevator but you didn't want to go in there right now and deal with him.

You didn't want to leave him when he was obviously hurting but you had a feeling that he would say things in anger that would hurt you deeply and things he'd most definitely regret later.

On the way to your apartment you bought a pregnancy test kit, just in case, you were pretty sure you weren't pregnant but a test would remove those lingering doubts you had in your head now. You had no idea what you'd do if you were indeed pregnant, you didn't want a child at this stage in your life.

And the way Daemon had reacted you feared that he won't be there for you if you were expecting his child.

As soon as you were inside the apartment you took the test and those two minutes where you had to wait to watch the stick turn either blue or pink felt like hell. It wasn't unusual for you to have your periods late this way but you have never been this sexually active before in your life. Both of you got sexually intimate everytime he was around you.

As you watched the stick turn negative you breathed a sigh of relief, you took the test again just to be sure and it turned up negative again.

You checked your phone to see if he had called or texted but your heart sank at the nothingness. A lump formed in your throat as you tried to hold back your tears but failed miserably, he had told you that he wouldn't be the perfect guy for you and in moments like these he really wasn't but you didn't want his trauma to taint your relationship with him.

You didn't want to believe that he'd just abandon you if you were indeed pregnant. He was a good man and he wouldn't just abandon you like that. You wanted to keep your faith in him until he'd prove you otherwise..

Around ten at night he finally came to see you and as you opened the door he stared at you for a moment before he stepped inside your apartment. He had a small pharmacy bag in his hand that he passed to you,

"Take the test" he told you sternly.

"Daemon i have–" before you could even speak he had cut you off,

"Take it, please" his voice softened this time so you sighed and took the bag from him.

"Should have used the fucking condom" he mumbled under his breath and you bit on your cheek to calm down because you were starting to feel really frustrated by his behaviour.

"What if I'm pregnant? What are you gonna do?" You crossed your arms as you questioned him.

"Well first of all I'd like to know why and how? Aren't those pills hundred percent effective?" He questioned like a jerk.

"Ninety nine" you mumbled meekly

"Whatever..If you are really taking them everyday then you shouldn't be pregnant, isn't that right?" He raised his brows and you nodded before you chuckled,

"But what if I am, hypothetically What if I am pregnant and for the sake of our relationship let's just assume that I'm not a fucking whore that's whoring around and the child is yourssss ..what then?"

You raised your voice and he opened his mouth to say something but then the look on your face broke his heart. He already knew that he never deserved a woman like you in his life especially considering how awfully he treated you at times but moments like these really shook him up, he always projected his issues on you when you didn't deserve it at all. Maybe you were pregnant and if you were it wouldn't just be your fault or your responsibility to bear alone.

He was just scared after what had happened last time, he always lived in fear. Even though he was meticulous about it and always asked you if you were taking your pills, he wasn't as careful about the precautions as he had been in the past.

He walked towards you and you took a step back so he walked closer to you again and placed his arms around your body.

"If you're pregnant then the baby is mine, I know that. I'm so sorry about what I had said earlier, I regretted it as soon as it left my mouth. Can you forgive me darling please?" He asked you softly as he made you look up at him, you were still upset but you didn't want to stretch the issue knowing that he was clearly feeling triggered by a memory.

"Are you going to leave if I'm pregnant?" You asked him so he placed his forehead down on yours.

"No, never, I'm sorry my words made you feel that way. I am just not ready for a child but I'd never abandon you I promise" he assured you, he had no intentions of leaving the woman that was willing to stand by him through his bad and worse.

"I'm not either" a part of him felt relieved as you said that.

"Okay, then we will deal with it if it comes to that, for now I just want you to take the test for me ..so can you please do that?" His voice had a pleading tone to it as compared to before.

"I have already done it twice, i am not pregnant" he pulled away as you said that, saying that he was relieved would have been an understatement.

"You're not?"

"Nooo.. I don't know why my period is late but I know I'll have it sooner or later" he sighed as you said that.

Now he felt even worse about the outburst he had. He stepped away from you and leaned against the back of the couch in your living room.

"I don't deserve you darling" he looked down as he said that.

"Don't say that..Is there a reason why you freaked out other than not wanting a child?"

You asked him and he felt as if the ground has been pulled from underneath him and swallowed him whole,

"I'm pregnant" she said to him as she placed the stick down in front of him at the dinner table and it most surely was positive. He stood up immediately, his appetite was gone.

"How did it happen?" He asked her as he grabbed the stick to inspect it.

"Do I need to tell you how babies are made you jerk?" She got upset so he took a deep breath,

"Noo i…i meant we were using condoms and you're on pills so...I"

"Are you telling me that it's my fault?" She glared at him. He wasn't ready for a baby, he was just twenty four and the international fight week was just right around the corner, he had been training so hard for the tournament and he didn't want to get distracted. But as much as he didn't want it, that was his child in her womb and he wasn't the type of man to abandon someone like that.

"I'm not saying it's your fault.. I'm just confused is all ..did you see a doctor?" He asked her softly as walked closer to her and bent down to her level to talk to her, she glared at him before she slapped him hard.

"That's for questioning me" he was so used to them that he didn't even flinch and he wasn't surprised when she kissed him roughly after that, that was all she did to him, she'd hurt him and then love him, the cycle never stopped.

"We are going to be parents and I need you by my side alright?" She said to him so he nodded.

Later on he had discovered that she did it on purpose, she was poking holes in the condom and she had stopped taking her pills so he won't be able to get away from her for this tournament but he did it anyways and that's where it all went down for him. That's when his life changed forever.

..

"Daemon?" He heard your voice so he snapped out of his thoughts,

"Can you hold me?" He asked you softly so you immediately walked towards him and your arms wrapped around his neck, you knew his outburst had everything to do with none other than the thorn in his past- Samantha.

Over the course of four years of their relationship she had ruined him slowly, the biggest regret he had was that he didn't fight back until it was too late.

A part of him always wanted to hold on to her because he wanted to believe in the love he had for her, he wanted that woman back that he had fallen in love with, she was a completely different person when they had first met.

She was kind, so caring, she always looked after him so later on when she changed so drastically he often felt as if he was the one to blame for it, that he was the one to change her and that's exactly why he never stopped her from doing whatever she wanted, she made him believe that he deserved it for what he had done to her, that he was the reason she had turned into a monster.

"I don't want to punish you for her wrongdoings but I keep doing it, are you sure you don't want to get out of this mess?" He asked you so you pulled away to look at him.

"Daemon if I wanted to leave I'd have left already, if I didn't care about you then I never would have gotten myself in this relationship, I'd never ever want to hurt you but I'm only human and I'm going to make mistakes" you told him honestly and he nuzzled his face between your neck, his fingers traced circles on your waist.

"You never hurt me, I get hurt by my own fears and insecurities and then I take them out on you. I just need you to know that you're very important to me and I don't want to lose you" He whispered, his voice filled with tenderness.

"Let's just forget about it, okay? I'm not upset with you"

"You should be"

"But I'm not"

"That's because you're an angel, my very own Angel who is determined to stand by me no matter what" you smiled as he said that,

He was never overly sentimental but once in a while he would say a few words that left you feeling giddy and gave you all the butterflies. You caressed his scalp gently before you kissed his forehead and then his lips softly, in moments like these he could clearly see how different you were from her, how tenderly you treated him even though he gave you several reasons to get upset and hurt him.

"Is there any chance you'd want to have sex with this angel before she actually gets her period?" You bit on your lips and it made him smile, he grabbed your chin and kissed you before he picked you up, instead of taking you to your bedroom he took you to the couch instead and laid you down. You kept your eyes on him as he took his jacket off and then his shirt followed, you couldn't hide your lustful gaze as he pulled his zipper down.

He crawled on top of you and undressed you quickly as if he couldn't wait any longer.

"Do I need to worry about your health? Why aren't you getting your periods if you're not heavy with my child?"

He questioned as he pushed himself inside slowly, the way he always wanted to discuss important matters during sex intrigued you and frustrated you at the same time.

"I uhhhh god..okay…I don't know but it's nothing new, probably just hormonal" you mumbled so he nodded, a hint of smirk formed on his face at the sight of you, he thrusted in and out of you slowly until you were melting underneath him.

His breath hitched in his chest as you caressed his scars with your fingertips, the old Daemon would have swatted your hands away quickly but this new in love Daemon allowed himself to enjoy the touch, your touch always felt soothing to him and that's why he was so afraid of you at first, he didn't want to get used to this, he always feared you'd change into her as soon as he'd show you his vulnerability.

"Cigarette?" You asked him post coitus and he thought about it for a moment before he got up and picked you up to take you to the bedroom. He sat you down on the bed and stared at you briefly,

"What do you want, baby?" You asked him as you grabbed his hand in yours and pulled him on the bed,

"Can you just..just lay with me?" There was a hesitation in his voice as he laid down next to you, he had no idea that you'd give him the whole world if he'd ask you so sweetly.

"I'm here" he closed his eyes as you caressed his prominent cheekbone with your fingers. After a moment of quiet you finally spoke,

"You should fight again" his eyes opened again as you said that. He had a habit of discussing important matters during sex and you had the habit of doing it post sex.

"I do fight, everyday"

"You know what I mean"

"I can't, i can't do it again, it's too late" he sighed and he was hoping you'd let it go but you were as stubborn as he was.

"It's not, it's not too late, i have seen you fight, you're different from those other guys, you train them to perfection and yet they're never able to defeat you"

He let out a deep sigh as you said that. He can't fight, just being in front of the crowd felt unimaginable to him..

"You can do anything you want dae, I believe in you"

You mumbled softly just to put the thought in his head.

You had found a video of him on YouTube a few days ago, from his last ever professional fight, it was the first match of his qualifier round for the international UFC week, he was doing good, he was easily winning but something bad had happened between the second and third set.

The fiery passionate man that had won the second round didn't return for the third, he was there in presence but his mind seemed distracted, he seemed hurt and scared and then he was beaten to pulp until he finally gave up.

Everyone in the crowd was shocked, his supporters were disappointed in him, nobody knew what went wrong, some also felt that he lost on purpose because he was paid in hefty from the opposition.

So many accusations were thrown at him but nobody knew the actual truth.

You didn't either but deep down you had a sneaking suspicion that his loss that night was because of Samantha, she was his curse and she never wanted to see him succeed, she always wanted to keep him caged and closer to her, she hated the attention he had on him and how she was slowly losing him from her tight grasp, this tournament would have changed his life in every possible way and perhaps she couldn't take it so she did something to ruin it all for him..

You didn't know the truth but you had a feeling you would find out soon.

"One Chicken Caesar Salad with croutons on top and dressing on the side, table 9" Claire put the order on the tab so you quickly prepared it and sent it out. Daemon would be there soon to pick you up, you were almost at the end of your shift. The head chef was on vacation so you were handling everything by yourself and you just wanted to go home with him. However Claire returned soon after and told you that the customer wanted to compliment the chef so you made your way outside to meet her.

As you approached the table every hair on your neck stood up, it wasn't just any random customer, it was her -Samantha.

You recognised that creepy smile she had on her face, before you could say anything you noticed her attention diverting towards the door so you turned around and it was Daemon.

For Seven years he had been running away from his past and the dreams he once treasured so deeply, he was running from that toxic woman but his past had finally caught up to him.

He stood there shellshocked as he came face to face with the woman that had destroyed everything about him that made him so uniquely him.

She broke his heart and took away his every reason to smile. She crushed his spirit and now as she found out that he was finally moving on in his life with you, she had returned to remind him why he'd never escape her.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

Taglist (please check your setting if I’m not able to tag you)

@simbaaas-stuff @ajthefujoshi @witchybitch2 @hypocritic-trash-baby @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @thefallenangel21n @kmc1989

#daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon x reader #non canon #modern au

[hooked-on-elvis]

ELVIS' DEBUT ON TV — 📺 [CBS] The Dorsey Brothers 'Stage Show'

Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50, New York, March 17, 1956 [that would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show, out of 6 total.].

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By December 1955 Elvis had still not made an appearance on national television. His manager Colonel Tom Parker negotiated a deal through Steve Yates with CBS's "Stage Show" for four appearances on the show in January 1956 at $1,250 each and an option for two more at $1,500 each.

On the January 28, 1956, Elvis was broadcast for the nation for the very first time, performing "Shake, Rattle and Roll", "Flip, Flop and Fly" and "I Got a Woman".

[ABOVE: the January 28th 1956 FULL PERFORMANCE]

On Elvis' first appearance on American television, Bill Randle, one of the most influential disc jockeys of the time, was the man who actually presented Elvis Presley to the nation. He said:

"We'd like at this time to introduce to you a young fellow, who like many performers, Johnnie Ray among them, come up out of nowhere to be overnight very big stars. This young fellow we met for the first time while making a movie short*. We think tonight that he's going to make television history for you. We'd like you to meet him now - Elvis Presley. And here he is!" — Bill Randle, Disc Jockey, the man presenting Elvis Presley to America for the first time. January 28, 1956.

After this, things would never be the same, specially the society. Such a good beginning for a year, that special day in a January month! ♥

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🎞️THE SHORT-FILM THAT NEVER SAW THE LIGHT OF DAY (for the general public... at least until now...)

The movie short Bill Randle referred to during his introduction to Elvis was "The Pied Piper Of Cleveland - A Day In The Life Of A Famous Disc Jockey" a short film made by Universal pictures about Bill Randle himself. Filmed on October 20th, 1955, at a concert in Brooklyn High School, Cleveland, it featured the stars Bill Haley & The Comets, The Four Lads, Pat Boone, plus the addition of a little-known Elvis Presley.

The original forty-eight-minute film was supposed to be cut down to a twenty-minute "short" for national distribution, but never made it that far. We're in 2024... 69 years went by since this shortcut was produced but the movie remains unreleased.

There is some dispute over whether or not this film actually exists, although it's said it was shown publicly, albeit only once in Cleveland, and excerpts were also aired on a Cleveland television station in 1956. Marshall Lytle, bass player for Bill Haley's Comets, corroborates the existence of the film in his memoir, "Still Rockin' Around the Clock", but he makes the unsubstantiated claim that Colonel Tom Parker, Presley's manager, bought the film and destroyed the existing copies. According to historians, tho, DJ Bill Randle, before his death in 2004, sold the rights to the film to PolyGram (it has been reported that Universal Studios has the negatives of the film in its vaults).

Much uncertainty about this short film, but can you imagine this film being release in Elvis' birthday centenary celebration? We watched, and listened, on Elvis' 89th birthday a few days earlier this year, to them playing during his birthday celebration at Graceland the original "That's All Right" record as it was cut at Sun Records studio in 1954, so who knows? There's always rare things surfacing here and there, so... we better keep our hopes this Bill Randle's 1955 movie, with some new 'baby Elvis' footage, will be release any day now [such as we know there's 'Elvis On Tour' and 'Elvis: That's the Way It Is' never seen before footage coming our way, as confirmed by the "Elvis" 2022 biopic's film director, Baz Luhrmann — finally! We hope it will be released soon].

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But enough daydreaming... Back to Elvis' 1st television appearances.

After the premiere on America's television on January 28th, 1956, Elvis would do five more appearances on 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show" for the next eight weeks. Those would take place on February 4, February 11, February 18, March 17 and March 24th, 1956.

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February 4th, 1956 | "Baby Let's Play House" and "Tutti Frutti"

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February 11th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

* This is a special arrangement for 'Heartbreak Hotel', so good! Jazzy, dramatic, really rarity. I loved this! ♥

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February 18th, 1956 | "Tutti Frutti" and "I Was The One"

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March 17th, 1956 | "Blue Suede Shoes" and "Heartbreak Hotel" *

* This is the usual arrangement for the "Heartbreak Hotel" song. On February 11th, 1956, Elvis performed this same song onstage of 'The Dorsey Brothers Show' but it sounded something more… dramatic (I guess it matched the lyrics after all, but I love the usual arrangement better yet).

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And the last one... the 6th appearance on 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show':

March 24th, 1956 | "Money Honey" and "Heartbreak Hotel" | [FULL PERFORMANCE]

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We can see how on those first TV shows Elvis still looks quite shy. Although he moves the usual lot, he doesn't flirt with his audience as much as he would on the upcoming TV appearances (and throughout his life, actually). It's funny how he grew comfortable with being in front of the cameras so fast tho. As his photographer Wiliam Speer said, "I guess you must really like being photographed."

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Elvis with Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey at CBS Studio 50 in New York, on March 17, 1956. That would be Elvis' 5th appearance on their TV show. 'The Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' (CBS) was the place Elvis debut in his TV appearances, on January 28th 1956. He would appear on the show for 6 times total, from January to March 1956. ♥

Performing on the 'Dorsey Brothers Stage Show' at the CBS Studio 50, New York City, on March 24th, 1956. His 6th and final appearance on the show.

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EDIT: THE BLUE MOON BOYS

I hate it when I forget to mention such important, trivial, facts — and this shouldn't be footnote info and I feel guilty it is now but I forgot mentioning — The Blue Moon Boys. I love them so much! I watch those footage looking at them as much as I look at Elvis.

Like, I love Bill Black's energy onstage! I love him hollering, vibing to their sound, as loud as Elvis (on occasion). I love how he seem to love chewing gum (Bill is chewing gum in some of those footage), because it makes me look at the Blue Moon Boys and Elvis as a unit, real close friend who look alike, just how it should be. We know although EP for obvious reasons can't chew gum while singing, he loooooved gum and kept this - should I say "habit?" - throughout his life. It's sounding silly what I'm saying, I know, but I think this Elvis habit in fact date from back when he was rocking onstage with Bill, Scotty and DJ Fontana and it makes my heart warm how close and similar they seem to be, as friends, real friends. Bill is actually said to be the one cheering the crowds onstage when they first begun performing, when Elvis was still learning how to be the great leading man he became. When EP was still learning how to act onstage, how to manipulate the audience, creating the mad passionate reactions he learned to create whenever he wanted, Bill was the one heating things up, joking with the audience, cheering, hollering. Bill is amazing! His energy is intoxicating, and we can see it clearly on those first TV appearances performances. ♥

--

I also love how hot Scotty Moore looks! I kinda laughed thinking 'Oh my goodness' ... So this thing about rock and roll bands always having hot vocalists and hot guitar players as a rule, it looks like it all started from the 50s with EP and Scotty! (really, at least the singer and guitar player in most rock bands are hot AF, am I lying? *lol*). I have a thing for Scotty... When he smiles at times on those footage, I'm like: 🤤🥹🥴🫠 And I also love how he's elegant but at the same time menacing looking holding and playing his guitar like the guitar hero he was. Really, if you haven't yet, do yourself a favor and read Scotty's book "THAT'S ALL RIGHT, ELVIS: The Untold Story of Elvis' First Guitarist and Manager, Scotty Moore", by Scotty as told to James Dickerson (1997). Scotty's life story is fascinating and as interesting as Elvis'. ♥

--

And last, but never least, I love how together, calm and concentrated DJ Fontana looks. Ok, unfortunately being the drummer has it's disadvantages. We can't see DJ Fontana as much as we see the other boys onstage, but I listen to the songs until the very last minute and it's amazing how the music always has the closing, the important and dramatic ending, done by DJ's talented hands. I love that guy. ♥

Elvis Presley and The Blue Moon Boys were the best rock and rollers! I love their energy together. As much as I adore 70s Elvis onstage, the TCB Band, the Sweets Inspirations and all, if I only had one performance of Elvis' I could attend, just one to choose, I would go for - undoubtedly - the 50s ones, when those guys, The Blue Moon Boys and Elvis, were playing together.

That's Rock and Roll royalty. ✨👑 ♥

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There you go. All the videos together so you can watch of them easily. ♥

#elvis for the first time on America television #imagine seeing this baby for the first time out of the blue and then watching him skyrocketing in less than a year... #and then testify as he only grew bigger and bigger and even when he's no longer walking in earth how people still love him #man how I wanted be an old lady just because i would have lived and breathed Elvis Presley 🥹 #all i can do is imagine #elvis the king #elvis #elvis presley #the blue moon boys #bill black #scotty moore #DJ fontana #Youtube #elvis fans #elvis fandom #elvis history #50s elvis #tv history #tv shows

[shifterstars]

The thing is, i am scared to publicly post pictures of my hoarde after the encounter with cohost.

It's insane because it's gotten into racism and transandrophobic territory where trans men are blamed because I loudly expressed how you should not be transandrophobic. I even made an entire secondary blog dedicated to strictly talking about transandrophobia and how it hurts groups of people. I made a list of transmasc/nonbinary mascs who were killed in 2024, I posted resources, uplifted transmasc voices, and continued to focus on that focal point of it. It was never about someone else, it was always about people being targeted for being transmasc, and how transandrophobia shaped queer communities into anti-transmasculinity to favor feminine people because queer to a cishetnormative society means feminine. It means anything that ""threatens"" the "female state". To queerphobes, queer means anything that threatens what they think a female is. (which in this case no longer is just being "feminine" bc if ur masc and a "female", u still have to prove yourself.)

I'm still around family that calls women, "females". But that ""luxury"" is not given to men. It is not trans men vs trans women, it has always been how cishetnormative standards never had true femininity. Feminine people do not exist in cishetnormative society. You are either masculine or submissive. And you want to know who that hurts? Those who are ""threat"" to the "female state" or "cismasculinity".

That includes trans men for being ""gender traitors"" for being ""woman hypnotized into men"", that includes trans women for being ""predators"" for being ""men dressing as little girls"", and everyone in between like nonbinary people and intersex folks trying to retain their rights to bodily autonomy. ALL of them are harmed by the idea that feminine means queer, and let's admit - A LOT of queer people have adopted the idea that queer means feminine. They have forgotten that the reason they associate it like that is BECAUSE of cishetnormative society dressing the label that way and denoting any gay man as feminine, and now queers that have picked it up - they're excepting femininity from all trans mascs. When a trans masc doesn't present that and reinforces that they would like more masculine representation, people complain that they want to be referred as masculine. "tell me you're not comfortable with your masculinity without telling me !1!1!" kind of posts all over Twitter recently.

in cishetnormative society, it's either cismasculinity or submissiveness. and they categorize anything feminine as queer because it could ""threaten"" the basis of which these two operate on. They hate trans men for being "fake men who should be submissive", and they hate trans women for being "fake women who should be cismasculine."

and we're still trying to avoid pointing attention to how bad every queer person is handling it by refocusing on tme/tma language. (if we do what we did before but harsher, it'll go away again.)

#transandrophobia #transmisandry #anti transmasculinity #transmisia #trans issues #transandromisia

[tinysocks0]

Pretty as a Picture

Abby Anderson x shy!artist!fem! Reader

Okay so this is the first fanficton I’ve written in a quite while, don’t expect this to be a normal occurrence lol. I’m only writing this because it’s an idea that I had that needed to be written into existence 😭 (also side note this turned out to be longer than I anticipated 💀) so enjoy!

This wasn’t the first time you’d been assigned with Abby for a patrol; yet every time you were assigned with Abby you got nervous jitters, butterflies in your stomach, heart aching, and mind racing about being around her.

You couldn’t help it, she was single-handedly the most attractive woman you’d ever met. Her strong, secure, and powerful persona made your knees and heart weak. Along with her well-built muscular figure, cute freckles that adorned her face and toned arms, and the rare times when she did smile made you melt.

So when you found out you were assigned on a patrol with her in the morning? You couldn’t help but be giddy with excitement.

You stripped out of your clothes until you were in your tank top and underwear, leaving the rest of your clothes neatly laid out on a chair next to your bed for in the morning. You lit a candle on your nightstand for light, shifting to your black-leathery worn cross-body bag you took everywhere with you, searching for your sketchbook and pencil. You smiled to yourself as you found them, closing the bag and placing it at the foot of your bed. You wanted to see if you were able to draw Abby without her as a reference.

I probably should be going to bed though..is it creepy to draw someone you barely talk to without their knowledge?..

You shook the thought, opening your sketchbook and gliding the pencil on the paper as you recalled memories of being around Abby. Her strong and beautiful features, freckles that danced around her pale skin, cute lips and nose, and powerful blue eyes that bore right into your soul.

A half hour of sketching later, you were still unhappy with the results. It just doesn’t look right you thought. You pursed your lips in frustration as you shoved your sketchbook and pencil back into your bag, hoping that tomorrow there would be a window of opportunity to draw Abby when you were with her, when she wouldn’t notice.

The last thing you needed was to embarrass yourself in front of Abby. What if she saw it and thought you were a total creep? Drawing her without her knowledge or permission? You couldn’t have that.

You tried your best to shut down all negative thoughts as you blew out the candle you lit, drops of white wax now littered around the candle holder. You plopped your head against the pillow, closing your eyes, waiting for sleep to take you.

You woke up the next morning as your alarm blared. You were lucky enough to have one, this one you found on a patrol a few months ago. The clock read 4:30 AM as you shut off the loud noise, quickly getting out of bed and getting dressed. Normally you would have been tired, especially considering you had only gotten 3 hours of sleep but all you could think about was Abby, aching to be around her. You dreaded being late, as you didn’t want Abby to think of you as an unreliable slacker. No, you wanted Abby to see you as you saw her.

You brushed your hair and made yourself look presentable, making sure you didn’t smell and that you were decently clean. You grabbed your cross-body bag and put on your boots, heading out to the spot you said you’d both meet.

You were supposed to just look around the area for supplies and infected, nothing really special. Soon enough you saw Abby standing tall by the spot you said you’d both meet.

The sun wouldn’t rise for another half hour so it was still slightly dark out, but luckily you had your flashlight with you.

“Ready to go?” Abby’s powerful voice rang through your ears, already making you feel weak with want for her. You nodded your head, smiling slightly up at her as she nodded. You both started walking, not saying much of anything, just enjoying hearing the trees rustle in the wind, birds chirping around you along with crickets and cicadas.

Abby walked slightly ahead but still beside you, making it easier to look at her without her knowing. You couldn’t help but stare, but little to your knowledge she knew your eyes were on her. She smirked a little and narrowed her eyes back to you, making your face engulf in a pink blush.

You look away quickly, pretending there was something oh so interesting up above you, trying to look anywhere but at her. She chuckled to herself, making you blush even harder. “W-what’s so funny?” You mentally punched yourself for saying that aloud, but your mouth spoke before you could even think about what you were saying.

“Hmm..it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

About an hour passed but with little luck. You both found a small abandoned convenience store that had a bottle of rubbing alcohol, some large bandaids but most importantly some bottled water, but that was it. You both stopped by a cliff side that had 2 decaying logs laying across from each other as seats, both talking one of the bottles of water and sitting separately.

As Abby stared out into the cliff side, you took notice how the warm morning sun lighting up her features made her look so breathtakingly beautiful. You took out your sketchbook and pencil, flipping to a blank page and started sketching. It’s now or never you thought.

Abby hadn’t said much, aware of the fact that you were drawing something but didn’t ask you about it, just letting you do your own thing. But it wasn’t until she noticed your glances up at her every so often that made her intrigued in what you were drawing.

You both sat silently for about 15 minutes, Abby making use of the time by cleaning her weapons, pretending not to notice your eyes scanning her features every once in a while. But while you were engaged in sketching, she silently got up and crept behind you, making sure to be dead silent with each step. As she got behind you and leaned towards your figure, you almost had a heart attack hearing her voice behind you.

“Whatcha drawin’?”

She had a smug smirk plastered on her face, face inches from yours as you nearly jumped out of your seat. You quickly looked at her, arms clutching your sketchbook to your chest and face red with embarrassment as your mouth hung open in shock. You tried to say something but you couldn’t, so you averted your eyes and shyly handed your sketchbook to Abby. She took it from you and her eyes immediately widened as her face grew red and mind raced.

How the fuck did she draw this so quickly? I look like a fucking goddess!! And she captured my facial features and muscles so good??

It was confident to say that you left Abby Anderson speechless that day. But while her mind was racing with thoughts of holy fucking shit this is amazing, you thought her mind was raving about how much of a creep you were. You grew more and more nervous with each passing second, starting to regret drawing her until Abby finally spoke up.

“I..I don’t know what to say..” She chuckled and had a slight smile on her face, still engaged in your talent.

“Do..do you think I’m creepy? I’m sorry I drew you without permission, it’s just that-“ She cut you off.

“What?? Are you kidding me? I absolutely love this. You’re artwork is insane, you captured me perfectly.”

You jolted your head up at her words, looking into her eyes for any sort of doubt, but you found none. She was being genuine, and her smile made your heart melt along with her complements. “You really think so?” You also smiled up at her.

She nodded and sat down on the log next to you, looking back at the sketch. “What compelled you to draw me anyway?” Abby asked you, looking at you with a soft smile.

“I..um…I..uh…“ You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t spit out the reason you drew her! You couldn’t just casually say you drew her because she was the hottest woman on Earth even though it was true and what you were thinking. You blushed and looked away, trying to come up with a believable fib but before you could, Abby spoke up.

“Ohhh, I see..you have a crush on me, don’t you?” She smirked at you, inching closer to your face, looking at you up and down with half lidded eyes.

You weren’t expecting Abby to be so forward. You couldn’t even look her in the eyes, just mindlessly looking at the floor and toying with the strands of your hair nervously. That was until she lightly grabbed your chin and made you meet her gaze. You looked at her with wide eyes, lips parted and cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl..you gonna answer it?”

Your face was pink before, but now tomato red at what Abby had called you. Your heart felt like it was going to thump out of your chest but you managed to stutter out a sentence that was barely over a whisper.

“I-um..I do..have a..crush on you, Abby.” You could barely keep your voice steady as you said it, eyes still looking into hers. She just smirked at you and looked you up and down, letting go of your chin but inching her face closer.

“Hmm..that’s what I thought when I kept noticing your eyes on me. You’re not very sneaky about it y’know.”

She was so close to you. All your senses were flooded with the smell of her pine soap you loved so much.

“Um, sorry about that..I couldn’t help it.”

“You couldn’t help but stare at me? That’s cute. Why? What’s so interesting about me?”

She was so straightforward it was driving you crazy. Did she really expect you to answer a question like that??

Yes, she did.

“I..well..that’s a hard question to answer. There’s a lot of things about you I like..but, if I have to be honest, I’ve never met someone as captivating as you.”

You couldn’t believe you said it. You looked away in embarrassment, toying with your hands, face flushed as your heart felt like it was going to explode for the millionth time.

“Well, I think you’re pretty captivating yourself. You’re cute, and you draw really damn well. I’d like to get to know you better, if that’s okay with you.”

Abby got up from the log you both were occupying and grabbed her backpack, swinging it up onto her shoulder. You looked up at her and smiled warmly.

“I’d like to get to know you too.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #abby anderson #muscle mommy abby #abby and ellie

[runnning-outof-time]

Right Person, Wrong Time | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @lovelydivs (sorry it took so long!!)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Three times where Tommy and (Y/N) tried to express their feelings for each other only to find out that it was the wrong time, and the one time, the right time, that they did.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, mention of war

Word Count: 3846

A/N: this one was a long time in the making…it’s loosely based off of the song Cleopatra by The Lumineers - I hope you catch the slight references to the song. It’s also the first time I’m writing one of those 3 + 1 typed stories, so hopefully it makes sense. Thanks so much for waiting so paitently. I hope you enjoy! :)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

———

-1914-

"Oh my goodness, (Y/N)! I can't believe you like him!" Ada Shelby squealed as she leaned forward in her seat, the biggest grin spread across her face.

"Aren't you a little young to be gossiping about stuff like this, Ada?" (Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the younger woman.

"I'm old enough," Ada stood her ground, puffing out her chest as she tilted her chin upwards, "besides...you've not denied it," she pointed out then.

Just as (Y/N) was about to open her mouth, a third voice entered the conversation, "denied what?" Both women looked over to the main door of the home to see Tommy standing by it.

"(Y/N)'s got a crush on Andrew...remember him? From school?" Ada blurted right out, not paying any mind to what the person she was spreading gossip about thought about this 'rumor' being spread.

"Oh," Tommy pursed his lips and nodded, unsure of what else to say about the information he'd just been told.

"And I've been telling her that she needs to go and confess her feelings to him, but she's too chicken to do it," the youngest of the three continued, making (Y/N) look at her with her mouth agape.

"You've not told me to do that, Ada!" she accused the other girl of lying, disbelief present on her features.

"I was about to," Ada stood her ground. "What do you think she should do, Tommy, hmm?" she looked at her brother then. (Y/N) held her breath and fixed her eyes on Tommy as well, her heart rate quickening by the second.

Tommy thought about what his sister had said. He couldn't deny the fact that his heart had dropped at the mention of (Y/N) being interested in someone else. He'd always fancied her, but never had the guts to step up and ask her to be his...he was too worried that she only saw him as a friend, and he didn't want to ruin what existed between them. Now she had her eyes on someone else. So he decided that he would concede to that; as her mind was already made up. "I think that you should go and tell him how you feel," he told her, well aware of the fact that he should be taking his own advice and coming clean to her.

(Y/N) took a few moments before she responded, letting the Shelby siblings' advice sink in. Then she slowly nodded her head. "Ok. If you both think that me telling him how I feel would be a good idea, I will do that," she agreed with them, putting on a smile although her stomach was actually doing flips.

No one else knew that (Y/N) actually had similar feelings for Tommy. She was also afraid to speak on them, not only because of the fact that they were friends, but also because there was talk around Small Heath of Tommy having connections with Greta Jurossi. She felt that it was best for her to keep them closed off, and it seemed like she was doing a pretty good job of that.

"Anything else I'm needed for?" Tommy's question brought (Y/N) back from her thoughts.

"Nope," Ada shook her head, popping the 'p' in the word.

"You've only just arrived," (Y/N) pointed out, wondering where he was going off to.

"I know. It seems as though you ladies are already invested in something that my opinion is not needed in," he answered her, making the older of the two women nod in understanding. "I'll see you around," he said, his statement directed towards (Y/N), who only nodded again before hoping that the slight frown she was wearing changed into a smile. It must have, because Tommy exited the house soon after seeing her nod.

"So Andrew..." Ada started off again, continuing on with their chat like nothing had just happened. Well to her nothing had happened. (Y/N) was still trying to come to terms with the fact that she'd basically just told Tommy that she wasn't interested in him.

——

-1919-

Tommy didn't think he'd ever be happy to be back on Watery Lane. But here he was, fresh off of the train from France, wanting nothing more than to walk down the house-lined road to get to the place he called home. The fighting had finally finished, and he, much like many other soldiers who had fought for the majority of the war, was ready to see something familiar again.

He was met with welcoming hugs from Polly, Ada, and Finn just about the second after he walked through his home's front door. As he took in the excited ramblings from his younger siblings, he couldn't help but notice that one person was missing.

"(Y/N) come over at all lately, Pol?" Tommy asked his aunt once the other two had finished what they wanted to share. He could tell instantly that something had changed over the time that he'd been gone just by the shift in his aunt's expression. "Pol?" he asked again after she hadn't said anything.

"She's not been around. There may still be time though," was all she said, her words leaving Tommy more confused now than he was before he asked the question.

"Time? For what?" he asked almost immediately after she'd finished speaking.

"I can't be the one who tells you. Go to her and hear it for yourself," she told him, pressing her lips together in a thin line after she finished speaking. Tommy looked at her for a moment longer before he slowly nodded his head and moved to walk past her towards the door.

It only took him a few minutes before he was standing on the doorstep of (Y/N)'s family's home. He took a moment to compose himself and regain his breathing before he knocked on the door. Thankfully, the very person he was looking for opened the door.

"You're back, Tommy," (Y/N) said with a slight notion of surprise in her voice. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she looked him over. It had been a few months since she'd last seen him, and she almost couldn't believe that he was standing in front of her.

"I am. The war's over," he answered her, taking in her presence as well. It had been some time since he was able to properly see her, but she was still as stunning as the day he left her. "I expected you to be at my house when I came home," he said then, not realizing how pretentious his words may have been until he spoke them. (Y/N) hung her head slightly at the mention of her absence. "Pol told me that I had to come here and hear it from you..." he trailed off, taking a breath as he got ready for the bandaid to be ripped off, "what do I have to hear from you, (Y/N)?"

(Y/N) didn't answer right away, and that made Tommy feel like he was going to implode. "I'm leaving Small Heath, Tommy," after what felt like hours, she finally spoke again, "I'm going to London; for schooling. It's what I want to do...what I feel is next for me in my career, but it'll take me away from here for several months," she explained the reason behind her impending departure to him.

Tommy looked away as he digested the news that he was just given. He couldn't ignore the fact that his heart rate had instantly quickened and that he was now getting that itching sensation just underneath the collar of his shirt. His mind was screaming at him; screaming that he should tell her that this wasn't a good move; screaming that he should admit his feelings to her. But yet he just stood and stared at the brick face of her home.

"I'm sure that this wasn't the news that you wanted to receive the same day you returned..." (Y/N) started, sensing his shift, "and I thought that I'd planned it so that we didn't need to come to grips with saying goodbye, but I guess I..."

"You don't need to explain yourself, (Y/N), I understand," he stopped her when he realized that she was beginning to have trouble articulating her thoughts.

"I need to do this, Tommy," she told him, even though in her mind she was screaming at herself for how she was acting.

"I know you do, and I shouldn't be the one to stop you," Tommy responded, somberness now in his voice. Yes, you should be! his mind was screaming at him, but he didn't have the power left in him to fight. He'd been spent; fighting what felt like non stop for these past few years. He didn't expect that the biggest battle of all would occur after he set foot back in Small Heath.

"I'm happy that you understand," (Y/N) said, a sad smile forming on her face. It was hurting her to do this, but she'd already made up her mind. Going to school was a dream of hers, and she didn't want to push it back now that Tommy had returned home. If it was meant to be, it would be, but now wasn't the time.

——

-1924-

Upon arriving back in Small Heath, (Y/N) decided that she'd go to the one place she knew would welcome her back. It only took her a few minutes to walk to the Garrison, and what was awaiting her made her eyes widen slightly. Things had certainly changed since she'd been there last.

"Things have changed around here,” (Y/N) voiced her thoughts as she walked through the pub's doors, “have you switched around the business hours too?" she then questioned the only man in the room.

Tommy quickly spun around at the sound of her voice. At first he thought that it was just a figment of his imagination, but lo and behold, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was there, standing several feet away from him. "No," he answered once his initial shock had faded, "they've been switched around for an occasion."

"An occasion?" (Y/N) was intrigued, her eyebrows raised slightly as she moved over to the bar's counter.

"My marriage," he came right out and said it, dropping the news like he was ripping off a bandaid.

(Y/N)'s expression didn't change upon hearing this news. If anything, it got more pronounced. "You're married?" she asked him, her surprise also evident in her tone.

"I am," he kept the response brief, clearing his throat as he focused himself on pouring a glass of, what he hoped still was, her usual. He then set it on the bar, pushing it closer to where she was standing.

"Congratulations," she told him, swallowing her pride as she tried not to make her disappointment obvious, "she's a very lucky woman," she added, a tight-lipped smile on her face.

Instead of furthering that conversation, he started a new one. "You've decided to come back," he stated the obvious.

"I have," now it was her turn to her brief.

"London treated you well?"

"It has," she answered with a nod, watching as he went about lighting a cigarette. She waited until he took the first drag from it to continue, "I was offered a position at the school I went to shortly after I graduated from the program. They wanted me to teach the classes that I'd just finished taking because they said they saw potential in me," she then gave him some insight into her time spent in the big city.

Tommy raised his eyebrows as he nodded along with what she was saying, impressed by what success she'd had in the years since he'd seen her last. "I tried looking for you, you know..." he trailed off then, tapping the excess ash into the tray on the counter then, "I've expanded my business to London, and I thought I might come across you while I was there."

"I spent most of my time at the college," (Y/N) answered him, not ignoring the pang that she felt in her heart upon hearing what he had to share with her.

Tommy took a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly. "I'm happy you're back, (Y/N)," he told her, his emotions behind the words unclear.

"I'm happy too," she agreed with him even though she couldn't fully get behind that statement.

She didn't know what she was thinking. Tommy wasn't required to save himself for her; especially after she was the one who decided that she was going to move away from the place they both grew up in. But yet she couldn't quell the nagging feeling inside of her. The feeling telling her that she'd messed up and now wouldn't be able to find happiness, because her happiness had already put a ring on another woman's finger.

——

-1926-

Tommy didn't know what to do now. After months of spending his days walking on eggshells and always looking over his shoulder, the vendetta he and his family had been locked in was finished. He was back at Arrow House now; alone, save for Charlie. His family had suggested that he take some time off of business. Polly spearheaded the idea, so Tommy really couldn't argue it. He'd been so tightly wound up for these past few months that he didn't know if he had it in him to fight her on it. So now he was sequestered; left to his own intentions. And they weren't good.

After a few weeks of wallowing in self-pity and drinking bottle upon bottle of liquor, he finally sat himself down at his desk with the intention of doing something other than opening the door wider for his demons to enter. But as he sat and looked at the few papers that were scattered about his desk, he found that he didn't have the desire to actually do any of it. The mental capacity just wasn't there. And so he stared. He stared straight ahead at the door of the room for who knows how long. His trance was only broken when his head maid entered the room.

"What is it, Frances?" he asked, finally snapping out of the daze he'd been locked in.

"It's nearing dinner. Should I set a plate out?" she asked him a question of her own.

"Sure," he answered dismissively, hoping that that was all she wanted from him. To his luck, Frances nodded her head and turned to exit the room once she received her answer. That left him alone again, and instead of staring off once more, he decided to busy himself with lighting a cigarette.

As he took the first drag, he let himself sink back into the chair and exhale a long, slow breath. Smoking always seemed to have the power to center and ground him, and he learned rather quickly that he could count on the nicotine to save him when nothing else could. That's why he always had them on him. He closed his eyes as he began to fiddle with the lighter that was still in his hands.

Amidst the silence, one person came to mind: (Y/N). It'd been two years since he'd last saw her but now she was in the forefront of his mind. He took another drag from the cigarette between his fingers before setting it in the ashtray and grabbing the phone from the corner of the desk.

After getting connected to her line with the help of the woman at the exchange, Tommy listened to the dial tone as it rang out. The call picked up after the third, pain-stakingly long ring.

"Hello?" Her voice just about took Tommy's breath away. He opened his mouth and shut it, deciding that what he was originally going to start off with wasn't acceptable. "Hello?" she asked again, wondering if the other side of the line was dead.

"(Y/N)..." he trailed off after saying her name, still unsure of what to say. Why was he even calling her?

"Tommy?" she responded in a similar manner, only her utterance of his name was spoken as a question. "Has something happened?" she asked him, wondering what the reason behind his call was.

"No, nothing's happened," he answered.

"Then why the call?" she outright asked him.

"I...I wanted to see you," he was finally able to find the words, "could you come to Arrow House?"

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh slightly at his request. "I don't know where that is, Tommy," she told him, her decision on whether to meet him or not left unclear.

"I'll send someone to your home. They'll bring you here," he gave a solution to the roadblock.

There was a pause on the other side of the line, and it made Tommy hold his breath. He was so close, so close to seeing her again. All she had to do was say 'yes'. After what felt like minutes, but in reality was only a few seconds, (Y/N) gave her answer: "when will they pick me up?"

"You'll come?" he asked, his mood now perked up as he sat straight in the chair.

"Yes, I'll come," she answered, her decision more definitive now.

"I'll have someone come to your home for you shortly," he told her, unable to stop the smile from forming on his face. He was just a short time away from finally seeing (Y/N) in person again.

"Ok. I'll see you shortly," there was a smile present in (Y/N)'s voice too, which made Tommy all the more excited to see her.

The call ended there, and it left Tommy with time to prepare for her arrival. He just couldn't believe that he was going to see her again.

—

(Y/N) marveled at the expansive estate as she rode up its driveway. She never could have imagined Tommy living in such a dwelling, but she was immensely proud of what he'd become. The car stopped at the front doors, and her door was opened before she could even think about reaching for the handle. She then walked up the steps and through the large, wooden door that had been opened by an older woman.

"Mr. Shelby's in the front room," the woman informed (Y/N), who nodded before looking around. A few moments passed before the woman spoke again, "it's that way, ma'am," she pointed out, motioning to the archway on the left wall. (Y/N) nodded again, this time with a grateful smile as she then made her way through the archway into the front room.

It was grand, and she looked around before her eyes fell onto the man who was standing in front of the window with his back facing her. "Tommy," she called out to him, her voice softer than she would have liked.

But it did the job and got him to turn around and look at her, "(Y/N)," he started off, stepping away from the window and closer to her, "it's good to see you again."

"You as well," she said with a small smile, the pace of her heartbeat quickening with each step he took to come closer to her.

Tommy stopped when he was only a couple steps away from her, and he took a moment to admire her before he spoke again, "I didn't think you'd actually come," he admitted, unable to stop the smile from forming on his face.

"No?" (Y/N)'s eyebrows raised in surprise as she heard what he had to say.

"No," he affirmed with a shake of his head, "I thought it'd be too good to be true…you being willing to see me after all of this time."

"I'd always be willing to see you, Tommy," she told him, her words filled with a sincerity that made Tommy's smile widen. "What's got you smiling like this?" she couldn't help but question him on his facial expression. A smile from Tommy Shelby was a rare sight, (Y/N) knew that better than anyone.

"Do you have someone, (Y/N)?" he didn't answer her question, but instead asked one of his own.

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sudden ask, wondering where it came from. "I don't," she answered him, her confusion shining through in her words now, "why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know before I said anything else."

Now (Y/N) was really confused. "What are you getting at here, Tommy?"

"It's always been the wrong time between us to do something like this, but now that this time seems different, I'm not going to wait any longer," he paused for a beat, clearing his throat before he continued, "you've always been the right person for me, (Y/N), ever since we were kids; before the war. You were the person for me, but it was never the time for us...not until now," he ended his admission with a slight nod as he stepped even closer to her. (Y/N) didn't shy away from his proximity, and in fact, the slightest smile formed on her face as she welcomed it. "I was late for those times and late to figure out what was going on; late for the love of my life, but I won't let this be another wrong time between us. I want to be on time now, (Y/N), and I want you to be mine," he spoke from the heart, his eyes not straying from hers.

"Tommy..." (Y/N) started after she'd gathered her thoughts, "Tommy, you have no idea how long I've been waiting for something like this to happen," she admitted as her smile grew wider. "I will be yours," she told him then, watching as all of the tension fled his features at the moment she gave her decision.

Without saying another word, Tommy stepped forward and took her into his arms. (Y/N) responded by setting her hands on his chest, her fingers wrapping around the lapels of his jacket. "Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?" he asked, his lips brushing against hers due to their closeness.

"I thought you'd never ask," she responded with a breathless laugh. She kept her eyes open just long enough to see Tommy crack a grin at her words before he leaned in and pressed his lips against hers, hooking her into a passionate kiss.

It instantly felt like she'd been swept away and taken to some unheard of land where she knew everything would be ok. And when Tommy pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, she opened her eyes to see that that 'unheard of land' was actually her real life, and that all she needed to do to go there was to feel Tommy's lips on hers. So she did the only thing she could think of and let him kiss her again.

———

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Listen to the song Cleopatra by The Lumineers…

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