#Next time let’s fact check before assuming<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Raph is nothing like Gretchen if I recall isn’t she the bully in that movie?

Sigh. Okay, in The Mean Girls musical there is a song Gretchen sings that is titled “What’s Wrong with me?”— and Raph LITERALLY says “What’s wrong with me” in the gif I reblogged. That is the only reason why I referenced her. Never said they were “like” each other, I just said “It’s giving Gretchen” because people would understand the reference.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

[itsravenbitch]

how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death

a little backstory

— for the sake of privacy, we’re gonna say my boyfriend’s mother’s name is kay

kay’s “death” was caused by a car accident (wasn’t her fault) and she later passed in the hospital. this all happened in new york, and my boyfriend and i live in georgia. but about a 2 days after we found out, we flew out there.

my bf and his mom were super close so that loss was a lot on him. he started burying himself in the gym, sleep, work etc & eventually he became really depressed. he would not get up out of bed and i could not take that. that was when i decided to revise her death, and this was like a week after she passed.

the moment i learned she was dead, i naturally entered the state of loss. so, i simply and quickly went over what state of mind i was currently in, and what state of mind i needed to be in.

now y’all know i love meditating <3 so ofc i meditated. the one i used is by edward art, i believe i’ve mentioned it before. but here’s the link 😌💘

so yeah after this meditation i had completely satisfied my imagination, i had a great feeling of serenity, and i was in the state of the wish fulfilled. + i let go of any need to control the 3d.

— reminder: don’t look at your 3d as something to change. things change when they change in consciousness/imagination. if you wanna manifest something, don’t point out your current circumstance as something that you need to change. be cool and fulfill it in imagination;)

— also sn: my boyfriend knows about the law but he doesn’t necessarily study or consciously use it. so, i didn’t tell him i was revising his mom’s death.

— and i had to continue to act like his mom was actually dead when i was around him, even tho at this point kay was 100% alive in imagination.

so in the morning, i would wake up and assume the state of fulfillment. throughout the day, when i would go check on my boyfriend, he always expressed his feelings, how i could help, and new ways he was trying to cope. honestly, seeing him so hurt and confused hurt me. and throughout this, one of the few things i always reminded myself was that, i’m not my emotions and i’m my thoughts, and neither of those things matter (in terms of manifesting).

another thing i always reminded myself of was the fact that i’m god, BUT i’m also human. so, the ‘god me’ was relaxed & satisfied. the god in me also didn’t have a hurting boyfriend with a dead mom. but the ‘human me’ did and he needed my comfort.

so that’s what i did, i comforted him because he was grieving the death of his mother. so what? i’m human, and i have human decency so ima comfort my baby.

HOWEVER, i didn’t attach myself to that (accept it). i didn’t look at me comforting him as “his mom’s dead and that’s final”, i just did it because he’s my bf and he’s hurt. but i still maintained fulfillment in imagination.

— i talk about this more in depth here. but basically the post acknowledges that yes, you’re god, but you’re also still human and you have a human life to respond to. so do that, respond to your life (when necessary) while simultaneously fulfilling the inner man.

as long as you continue to return to the state and fulfill SELF, you will manifest whatever it is you’ve fulfilled.

when it manifested

the night before it manifested, my bfs dad asked everyone (the family) over for brunch. just so everyone could be together during rough times and whatnot.

the next morning when we woke up, my bf.. it was like he completely reverted; he just went back to his regular self. i made sure to take a mental note of it.

as we were driving to his dads house he was acting very normal. all that pain, hurt, etc was not there. his whole energy was different. then what really got me was when we had got to a red light. he said “i already know my moms threw down, i wonder what she cooked”……….and i’m like, i know i’m not trippin. just went along with it and agreed with him cause what was i supposed to do lol😭?

so we pull up to the house and get to the door, and one of his brothers opened it. as we’re saying hi and walking further into the house we start smelling food and my bf goes “YUP! I KNEW IT!!”

then he walks into the kitchen and says “hey ma watchu in here cooking? it smells good”……. and his mom was literally standing there smiling before she gave him a hug.

this all happened naturally by the way. it was like… she never died😂😂 the power of revision yall!

anyways the whole afternoon went by like nothing ever happened.

i honestly thought it was pretty funny. knowing how they used to interact with each other while they were grieving kay’s death vs now was hilarious. and what makes it funnier is they never knew and never will 😂😂😂

so there y’all have it, how i revised my boyfriend’s mother’s death. sorry i made y’all wait so long:) i literally got so demotivated while trying to type this.

feel free to ask questions cause ik yall got some😩😂 love y’all 🫶🏾

[nervoushottee]

Go For It | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out…

Warnings: Steve being oblivious babygirl

Note: hey hottees! Happy New Year! I hope to be writing a lot more on Tumblr💗

(Possibly might be a Smut Part 2?? Let me know if you guys want one?)

——————-

The bell chimes as you enter the door of Family Video. A smile on your lips and an intent in mind as you walk confidently toward the front counter. “There’s my favorite customer.” Steve says to you with his signature smile.

Steve Harrrington, the “boy next door”, the ex- “King Steve” or for your case, “The hot Family Video employee that has a hard time understanding that you’re flirting with him.”

For the past two weeks you’ve been coming into the movie store in need of new movies to watch. The first time you came was truly because you were in need of something new and Steve in all his strong, beautiful and delicious glory helped you no problem with finding a comedy for you and your girlfriends to watch one night.

You could hardly understand half of what he was telling you about the movie when you were purchasing it. You were too busy ogling his toned arms and the many freckles across his face. You wondered if you played your cards right, you’d be able to see if there were any more freckles in other more delicate places.

The movie he recommended wasn’t actually bad and you jokingling made him your “movie guy”. You had said it to flirt and make him laugh but Steve took it seriously. He stood proud, almost cocky saying, “If you ever need a new movie, I’m your man.” pointing his thumb towards himself as you return the movie back to him a few days later.

You did in fact let him be your man and nearly spent half your pay checks each week to come in and buy movies. You would flirt and banter with him and Steve would laugh and banter right back with you.You could tell he enjoyed your company but you weren’t too sure if he was getting what you were throwing down.

One day, you came to return a movie and Steve was on his break so Robin did it instead. The two of you both knew of each other. Being in the same classes from time to time throughout the school years but you never had any mutual friends. You both talked as Robin ringed up the movie for a return and a calm silence covered you both.

Your rings made clinking noise with every tap of your fingers with the rhythm of whatever song was playing softly through the store speakers.

That sudden calm was quickly interrupted by an eager Robin.

“I think you should just go for it.” she blurts out to you.

You turn your head to see the girl staring back at you. Not too sure (you’re pretty sure) what she was referring to you tell her as such. “Go for what?” Robin looks back to where you assume is the back room door to see if Steve was coming out.

“Ask Steven out.” she whispers to you with an amused gleam in her eyes.

You peek over to the same door Robin had looked back at only seconds before, before you lean over the counter closer to her and whisper. “You think?? Because I’ve been subtly flirting with him for almost a month and he hasn’t shown much interest.”

The short haired dirty blonde eyes widen in shock, “Pfftt. Oh he’s totally interested. Number one, I mean look at you you’re gorgeous, I mean your pretty cool gal. Number 2, Steve doesn’t know if someone is flirting with him unless he’s the one that seeks them out. I know he had this “reputation” a while back but that ship has long sailed for a while and he hasn’t been doing that well in the flirtatious department if we’re being honest.” Robin says all this to you rapidly, adding finger quotation marks when she says “reputation”.

“And Number 3 and please listen when I say this. Sometimes Steve isn’t the brightest fish in the sea. If he was a dog, you would need to tell him that the bone is a treat before you give it to him or else he’ll think it's a friend and play fetch with it or something.” she finishes.

You try to take in all that she said as much as you could, trying to understand the innuendo she threw in at the end. Nodding at her words you eyes going unfocused as you get lost in your head in thought. After a few seconds you eventually grab the receipt Robin hands you.

“So yea I think you should go for it. Trust me you won’t be disappointed.” she says with a smile.

You tell her that you’ll keep it in mind and thank her before leaving the video store.

The conversation between the two of you was a few days ago.

But today, today was the day you were going to ask Steve out. You made the decision the night before. You put on your favorite outfit, listened to the songs that make you feel the most confident and didn’t forget to tell yourself some positive affirmations before you left. There was also a pint of mint chip ice cream waiting for you in the freezer just in case Robin was lying and this all didn’t go how you wanted to. (You were just making sure to check every box.)

So here you were at the counter that Steve stood behind as he leaned over to get closer to you as he spoke. “So did Jim and Janine like “Die Hard”?”.

Jim was your neighbor who you’ve known since you were young. Him and his wife Janine were in need of something new to watch and you offered to get them a movie. Saying that you knew a guy who gave out pretty good suggestions. Was it another excuse for you to show up at his job and flirt with the boy? Yes but your neighbors didn’t need to know.

“They loved it, it is definitely going to be a favorite for them.” you say to him. Steve is clearly happy with your response telling you as always that he’s happy to help.

You try to take a subtle deep breath to gather as much confidence and bravery before speaking. ‘Here it goes’, you think to yourself. “Aside from returning this,” you place both hands over the movie you placed on the counter. Rings clinking against the plastic cover.

“I am looking for something to watch for myself and I’m in need of your recommendations.” You say to him.

Steve nods his head, “No problem. Any genre you in mood for? Maybe a little action movie for yourself or a good comedy.” He places the “Die Hard” movie in the return pile next to Robin who you had no clue was even there until just now. You lock eyes with her briefly as she gives you a subtle thumbs up and mouths “go for it”.

“I think I’m in the mood for romance. Any suggestions?” You tell him softly.

Steve drums the table with his hand repeatedly as he thinks. You assume he has a movie in mind once he walks from behind the front counter and walks toward you. He places his hand lightly against the middle of your back and leads you toward the romance section. “I have a few movies in mind that you might like.”

The two of you are in the romance aisle. Between two shelves that cause you both to be a lot closer compared to the distance you were before. The front counter made a barrier between the two of you. But now you can see every detail of Steve Harrington. The small freckles against his arms, the sweet yet warm scent of his cologne as he passes you to pick up a couple movies for your suggestion. The tip of his tongue sticking out against his lip as he concentrates. Looking between each movie to choose the perfect one for you. Fuck, he’s too cute and you hope he says yes to your proposal.

“Here we are m’lady.” His voice brings you out of spacing out thinking about how cute Steve was. You smile to bring yourself back and hope Steve couldn’t tell you were staring at him and daydreaming. He raises two movies, one in each hand out to you.

“We have the great “Sixteen Candles”. A very cute and classic Rom-Com deal.” He starts to tell you about the movie, a short and sweet summary of the movie without giving any spoilers.

“And if you’re not feeling for that we’ve got “Endless Love”, a bit more of romance and with a good amount of dramatic flair.” He gives the short rundown of that movie without giving any spoilers for that one also.

You nod your hand and act as if you’re thinking of choosing one or the other. “Both good choices.” You say to him which earns you a beautiful Steve Harrington smile.

Here it goes.

“There’s a new movie that came out not too long ago. I don’t know if it's on video yet or if you guys even have it. It’s um- I can’t remember the name. There’s a guy works at a laundromat in the movie-” you start, looking a bit confused as you act as if you’re trying to remember the name of the movie that’s been repeating in your head about a thousand times since last night.

“Oh yea we do I think. One sec.” Steve walks further down the aisle and skims the shelves for the movie you were talking about. He picks it up and walks back toward you waving the movie in his hand. “This is the one right?” He hands it to you.

You nod happily, “Yea! That’s the one.” you look up at him smiling brightly and he’s smiling right back you. He asks if you were searching for any more movies and with a shake of your head, he leads you back to the register to cash out the movie.

Robin is no longer standing behind the counter but she’s acting as if she’s making herself useful. Stocking a few shelves with movies. It’s her subtle attempt to give your privacy to ask Steve out but still be able to eavesdrop on the whole thing.

Steve walks behind the counter and begins to ring up the movie, muttering the lyrics to the song from the radio in the background. You think to yourself that now is a good time as any to ask him out. You won’t get this opportunity again. Despite Robin teling you about Steve’s lack of dates, you doubt that’s going to last forever. I mean look at him, he’s Steve Harrington.

You clear you’re throat before speaking, “So uh-How many movies does a girl have to buy for you to ask her out?”

Steve freezes in what he’s doing, the movie in his hand as he stares at you. His eyebrows raised in curiosity and shock. “What?”

You don’t let his confusion or shock stop you. You’re on a roll now, you can’t just quit.

“This movie is still in theaters. It’s not that busy now but I still would love to see it on the big screen. Maybe instead of me getting this tape,” you grab the movie softly from his hands. Steve still so frozen in shock he lets you. You place the movie down on the counter and slide it away.

“Maybe you and I can go see it? If you want, that is.” you finish.

You look up at him sweetly and Steve blinks once, twice, a few more times. He swallows like theres a lump stuck in his throat and before he speaks, he nods.

“Ye-Yea.” he starts, his voice cracking at first before he clears his throat and shakes his head subtly to get shake himself out of it.

“Yea uh that’d be great.” He finally responds.

You smile brightly at him. You go on your tippy toes to reach over the counter for the pen that was in the front pocket of his jeans. You hear Steve gasp slightly before you go back to how you were normally standing.

You grab his arm softly and he lets you and you uncap the pen. “I’m free on Saturday but you can call me so we can figure out a time that works for you.” you say to him, writing your number on his arm. You put a heart and small smiley face at the end of it before handing the pen back to him with a smile.

You don’t let him say anything else to you as you say goodbye and begin to walk away. But that’s before you see Robin out of the corner of your eye who gives you a wink and a big thumbs up. You exit Family Video and walk a few paces before letting out an excited squeal when there was no one around.

You just scored yourself a date with Steve Harrington.

— — — — —

(Did I use Joe Kerry’s song as the title…maybe)

HEY HOTTEES OMG ITS BEEN SO LONG <3

Small life update, Im a working girlie so thats where most of my time goes and im way too tired to do anything else but sleep. But hopefully this year that changes!

I miss my friends on here and I hope to make new ones so please don’t be shy to send me a message!!

Hoped you enjoyed this fic of reader being down bad in need for Steve

[togrowoldinv]

The Bodyguard

Bodyguard!Natasha Romanoff x Actress!Reader

Natasha is tasked with being bodyguard to you and you two grow close. Maybe too close, but would she dare cross that line?

Note: I have finally written an installment of this au I’ve been thinking about. Let me know what y’all think! Enjoy!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff is great at her job. In fact, she is so good that she has been in high demand in the bodyguard industry for years. She is tough, but her clients have nothing but good things to say about her.

Nat recently finished an assignment, and she is available. Your agent jumped on the opportunity to hire her to protect you. As an up-and-coming actress, you need a highly skilled security team. And you’re not exactly the easiest person to protect. You like to ditch your security whenever you can.

When she arrives at work, Natasha waits in her boss’s office to get her assignment. Fury walks in the door with a grin on his face. That’s never good, Nat thinks.

“How bad is it?” Nat asks.

Fury chuckles. “Have you heard of Y/n y/l/n?”

“The actress?”

“That’s the one,” Fury says. “Three movies in one year that reached number one at the box office.”

“And I bet she’s a pain in the ass,” Natasha says dryly. She crosses her arms. “You just told me that I was done covering actors.”

“Plans change, Romanoff. You’ll be meeting Miss y/l/n tomorrow at her New York penthouse.”

“Great,” Nat says sarcastically. “Next time I get to choose the job.”

“In your dreams,” Fury quips back.

Nat leaves his office and passes Carol and Valkyrie in the common area of the office. The two look suspicious as they straighten their clothes, but Nat is focused on finding out more about you.

“New assignment?” Valkyrie asks Nat.

“Yeah, an actress. Just my luck.”

“So, you got the Y/n y/l/n job? Impressive,” Carol says.

“Tell me that when the assignment is over,” Natasha replies. She walks to the door but stops short to turn around and say one last word to the woman. “Hey, we all know about you two by the way. It’s nice.”

Nat smirks and leaves the office. She spends the rest of the day googling you and trying to find out everything she can. Your portfolio is impressive, she must admit.

The next morning, Natasha wakes up early and goes for a run before getting ready to meet you. She wears a black suit and her beautiful red hair in a braid. The drive to your penthouse doesn’t take long.

You’re still in your pajamas when she arrives, but your assistant lets her in anyway. She takes a look around for a quick security check while she waits for you to emerge from your bedroom.

“Miss y/l/n, your new bodyguard is here,” your assistant, Kate, says.

Natasha comes into your view and your words catch in your throat. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen such a beautiful woman.

 “Oh, hi,” you say to her.

“Hello, Miss y/l/n,” she speaks, and your heart flutters. She holds out her hand for you to shake. “I’m Agent Romanoff.”

“Call me y/n,” you say as you shake her hand.

“I’d prefer to keep it professional, Miss y/l/n,” she says, trying to ignore that she finds you attractive.

“Right, okay.”

“I have a few rules,” Agent Romanoff begins. “Don’t try to lose me anywhere. It won’t work. Listen to me when I am trying to get you out of a situation or avoiding it all together.”

She pauses when you get out your phone to check a message. You reply and she waits to speak again.

“That was two rules,” you say. “Not a few.”

“Well, I assumed you stopped listening, so I stopped talking,” Nat says.

“I was listening.”

“Sure.”

“Tell me the last rule,” you say.

“That will have to wait,” your assistant interrupts you. “The car is here to take you to the photoshoot.”

Natasha turns to her, “I’ll need information about anyone who drives Miss y/l/n, and you’ll need to include me on all itineraries from this point on.”

“Okay,” Kate replies.

“Thank you.”

You grab your jacket and purse before heading down to the car that’s waiting outside. Nat follows you closely. There are a few fans waiting but nothing compared to some days. You get inside the car, and she sits in the seat next to you.

She buckles up and waits for you expectantly to do the same. The car is in motion before you do it, so takes it upon herself to reach over you and grab the belt.

“What are you doing?!” You ask her.

“You’re not invincible,” Nat says while clicking your belt into place.

You groan in annoyance, but you do feel warm at the thought of someone caring enough for you to make sure you are buckled. You really need to surround yourself with better people.

At the photoshoot, Nat stands guard. She stays out of the way but keeps an eye on you. She doesn’t mind watching you wear beautiful clothes and pose in appealing ways. The whole thing kind of turns her on.

The first few weeks of her employment goes like this. You attend events, parties, and photoshoots. You don’t give Nat any trouble. That is until the night of your birthday party.

The first part of the night went fine. So many people showed up that you didn’t even know them all, but that’s the industry for you. You are sitting at a table and flirting with one of your new colleagues when things take a turn for the worst.

“How about we find somewhere more private?” He leans in and asks you.

“Maybe another time,” you say. You like him just fine, but you really don’t want to leave the party yet. 

“Come on, baby. It’ll be fun.”

“Not tonight,” you reply.

You glance towards Nat who is across the room. She catches your eyes and walks closer to you, keeping her distance but ready to help if you need her.

“Y/n, let’s go,” the man says, taking your hand and trying to pull you up.

“No,” you say firmly.

“She said no,” your actress friend that you’re closest to, Wanda, jumps in.

“Come on,” he still won’t relent. His grip is tightening on your arm. It hurts. He leans closer to your lips. “Let’s just-”

“Hands off of her,” he is interrupted by Natasha getting in his face. She pushes his chest to get him off of you. He releases your arm, but doesn’t back down from Nat.

“What are you going to do about it?” He attempts to taunt her.

“Leave,” Nat says. “Or I’ll put you through that wall.”

“So dramatic,” he says. But he backs away and heads towards the door.

Once he is out of sight, Natasha turns back to you. Wanda and a few others are trying to protect you, but you only want comfort from one person. You practically jump into her arms as you try to hide your tears from anyone else. Nat hugs you back, but with hesitance.

She feels safe and warm as you let yourself go in her arms. Her black leather jacket collects your tears. She walks with you in her arms away from the crowd.

“Are you alright?” She asks, real concern in her eyes.

“I’m fine,” you say, but you don’t look it. Nat walks you to your car and inside the vehicle.

You look out the window and try to hold back your tears.

“Let me see your arm,” Nat says after a few minutes.

You hold it out for her to examine. She doesn’t see any injuries. Her touch is featherlight as she rubs her hands over the aching muscles.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near you again,” she says.

“Thanks, Agent Romanoff,” you reply.

“You can call me Natasha,” she says.

“I love that name,” you tell her. She smirks.

“I’ll step in sooner next time, okay?”

“Okay. Maybe we need a code word or something,” you suggest.

“Like spies,” Nat jokes. You crack a smile, and she feels better about your state. “Let’s see. You can switch your drink from one hand to another.”

“We’ll workshop it, Natasha,” you say.

Nat nods. When you arrive at home, Nat helps you inside. She typically leaves you for the night, but you ask her to stay. Natasha sleeps on the couch.

When you wake in the morning, you find her sitting upright and ready to work. You sigh, thinking about the events from last night.

“What is it? Am I just not pretty?” You ask Natasha as you throw yourself onto the couch next to her.

“You know I can’t answer that and be professional,” Natasha replies.

She tries not to smirk at the way you dramatically sat down. She is slowly opening up to the idea of enjoying being around you as more than just her client.

“But you could just tell me because it seems that no one wants to date me,” you say.

“Y/n,” Natasha warns. “Trust me you are not the problem. I know for a fact people tell you that you are pretty all the time. Those assholes that go after you say it. You wouldn’t be a successful actress if you weren’t pretty.”

“Maybe, but I really don’t feel pretty.”

You sit up straighter and wait for Natasha’s response.

“You’re beautiful, y/n,” Natasha says sincerely.

“Really?”

“Really. Inside and out,” she says.

“I don’t know about that,” you reply despondently.

“I know. Look I haven’t known you but a few weeks, but I know that you’re a good person, y/n. And that makes you more beautiful than a million other people in the same position that you’re in,” Natasha explains.

There is no hesitation in her voice. It is nothing but the truth.

You feel yourself leaning in closer to her, but she moves away breaking the closeness. You try not to frown.

“Rule number three: We can’t get too close to each other,” Natasha says. “I have to protect you with a clear mind.”

“Okay,” you say. “But maybe we could break the rules, Natasha?”

To be continued…

[liliewrites]

Here's another brainrot for you. Your an adventurer (famous or not is up to you) stationed in Fontaine & you just got an mission to you know...stop some Fatui agents from disrupting the peace or something. So since you became an adventurer in the 1st place for the thrill, the mission was accepted by you. You go blazing into the fatui camp and like take them out (lets assume like theres at least 15 people there). Arle was just watching everything from a cover (which you obviously don't notice) & knocks you out after the whole fight. So arle was really impressed by you cus like you took out the entire camp & she wants that strength for herself. You were really stubborn about not betraying the guild & joining the fatui so arle decided to rail you into submission cus like torturing you is not gonna help in the long run.

NSFW transfem! Arle please.

Also, can I be 💫anon? So that you know its me next time XD. I am too shy to NOT ask as anonymous.

okkk HIIIII 💫 ANON!!:3 here's ur rqst hope u eat it up good, it has a small little sprinkle of jealous arlecchino to spice it up a little..

-warning/s : NSFW, transfem! arlecchino x fem! reader, lightly dark content, dubious consent, blowjob.

(men and minors dni utc!)

"take care out there, ranger!"

you waved your guildmates goodbye, heading off to the north to disband a nearby fatui camp as the agents there have been causing chaos within the area recently. you were scouting the area, when you saw the said camp.

it was fairly small, but with around a dozen to fifteen agents present.

you let out a sigh, hoping they would cooperate lest this would end up a mess like last time you've done similar missions to these.

you slowly approached the camp, a nervous and awkward smile on your face. "hello there, fellows!" you exclaimed, hands near your weapon, but not on it, in hopes that no aggression would occur.

"oh? what's a pretty little lady like you doing out here in the wild?" one of them snickered, and you instantly knew this wouldn't end up peacefully like you hoped. still, you tried. "uhm, well, this pretty little lady is respectfully asking you to please go away." you told them, oh, but they persisted. one of them even grabbing your wrist with a perverted grin. "well, i'm afraid we'll have to decline. especially when we've caught prey as good as you."

needless to say, you immediately grabbed your weapon and started kicking their ass. they were all caught off guard, but had immediately started coming after you one after another. "damn it, what in the hells are you all doing!? that's just one girl!" one of them exclaimed, frustrated at the fact that you were able to knock half of the camp out alone.

little did you know, a certain harbinger was supervising your little fight with the fatuus. she was also surprised at the fact at how easily you were taking down trained fatui, and she wanted you.

after taking down the last of those annoying perverts, you dusted off your hands and double checked yourself for injuries and your items.

the harbinger however, had come out of your hiding spot, silent steps approached your oblivious ass.

and the next thing you knew, all you saw was black.

"what the.. what the hell?"

you opened your eyes, barely aware of what had just happened before you passed out, but upon realizing that your hands were tied and you were stuck to a chair. you realized you were knocked out.

"oh, finally awake?"

a voice that belonged to a woman echoed behind you, along with loud clacking of heels, and lo and behold.

before your eyes stood the 4th of the fatui harbingers, arlecchino the knave.

you'd be a liar if you said your knees weren't shaking. that was the arlecchino, standing before you, right in front of you, just a few meters away! you were no match for the harbinger, and you feared for your life. scared that you might've angered her for wrecking a whole camp of fatui, shit, what if those were her soldiers? you thought.

"tsk. calm down. i did not bring you all this way to kill you. if that was my intention then i would have done that right then and there."

she told you, probably noticing how nervous you were from your silence. usually, people would've been screaming for help, but you weren't.

".. then, why am i here?"

you asked, calmly, trying not to look too scared. "i've witnessed your fighting prowess, how you took down those agents in mere minutes. those agents were trained for years under the regime of fatui military, with strict discipline and harsh conditioning." she walked towards you, a curious gaze settled upon you, besides that though, her expression was hard to read. you couldn't tell if she was angry? upset? sad?

"- and you made those solders look incompetent, stupid and weak. i commend you."

her answer wasn't one of your expected reactions from her. her expression was still deadpan and you couldn't tell if she was pleased or happy, but judging from her words alone you could at least say that.. she was satisfied with your performance? "thank you, uhm.. miss harbinger?" was all you could say, unable to really make out what her intentions were.

"perhaps you wonder why i took you here, little lady."

she walked closer to you, rough, dark blackened hands approached your face and gently caressed your skin. you noticed how cold the knave's hands were, and your curiosity was piqued as you started to wonder why her hands were like.. that.

it could've been considered an honor to be praised by a harbinger, but to be asked to join their side was completely something else. "no offense and with all due respect, miss arlecchino, but i will not leave the guild." you told her, all of the fear you felt was gone and you wanted to make it clear to her that you didn't want to join. "tsk, you are held captive and yet you still have the will to say no?" she grumbled, finally showing at least one expression on her face- annoyance.

"- it is because i want you to join us, join me, under the house of the hearth."

"EXCUSE ME WHAT?"

"i do not care where i am, but i will not leave the guild."

you stood your ground, nor longer were you afraid for your life, but for your friends and loved ones at the guild. "fine. it is your choice, but do make sure that you wrap your pretty little head around my words-- you will not leave this place safe, not until you agree with my offer. make your choice, or you'll regret making me impatient." she told you, tightening the ropes around your wrists and ankles, making your skin slowly start to burn but you stuck to your resolve. arlecchino left the room, and this was only the beginning of her trying to convince you to give in.

at first, you were starved for 2 days, with each time that you reject her offer she ends up slapping you on the face. today was the third day, you were hungry and light-headed. you swear you could feel like you were slowly slipping away from sanity as from spending so much time in solitude. your body was sore from being tied to a chair for 2 whole days without food nor water and you swear there were rope burns on your wrist and ankle.

arlecchino however, realized that starvation wouldn't make you crumble, much to her annoyance. this was not her usual preferred method of torture, thinking it was a waste of her time, she didn't like to wait and would prefer to end things swiftly. oh, but you, much to her annoyance, she didn't want to waste the talent that you had. she couldn't resolve to physical pain or she might accidentally inflict injuries that might hold you back from improving so she had to resort to slowly destroying your will, but she didn't expect you to be this stubborn. so she had to resort to the last method she could think of- fuck, she cursed under her breath. she may not admit it, but besides wanting to have you as a useful little helper, you may have caused her to have desires she never thought she'd have. it was a nuisance to her, but she couldn't get it off her mind-- she couldn't get the thought of using you like a slut out of her mind.

arlecchino walked back into the room, untying you and you were puzzled, "w-what are you going to do to me?" you asked, alarmed from her sudden behavior. you tried to struggle and squirm as she got you off the chair, but you could barely even stand on your own. "pathetic. so much for being a feisty little mouse." she mumbled, placing a collar on you and tying the leash on the wall. your ankles were freed but her hands were tied. "you've wasted plenty of my time with your reluctance to obey, little lady. don't you think it's about time that i finally teach you some manners, hm?" she placed her hand on your head, forcefully pushing you down on your knees. she unbuckled her pants. your heartbeat started to accelerate. no, no, she wouldn't do what you thought she would, right?

"open that pretty little mouth of yours."

she commanded, but you kept your mouth close as she pulled down her pants. "tsk, stubborn little mouse." she harshly squeezed your face, pulling you forward. "not going to follow? too stupid to understand instructions? fine then." she untied the leash, instead wrapping it around her hand before walking to the chair where you were tied to.

"i'll give you options, little mouse. either you learn to obey and i will reward you, or you will be forced to obey and i will continue to isolate you in this room."

you sat there, weighing your choices. should you comply? should you disobey? but you really wanted to get out of this dark, isolated room. arlecchino clicked her tongue, tugging on the leash.

"hurry up, little mouse, before i lose my patience and decide for you."

she huffed, and you know you've really got no choice here than to follow. with tears in your eyes, you slowly crawl forward, making her tug on the leash. "faster, you're too slow." she grumbled, making you approach her faster.

as soon as you were on your knees, right in front of her, you put your hand on her lap and stared at the intimidating bulge in her pants. you slowly pulled down her pants, along with her underwear.

your eyes widened at the mere sight of her dick, she was at least 7 inches-- and you were going to take that in your mouth? "very good, you're finally putting some sense in you." she praised you, her other hand now making it's way to your head, lightly pressing some weight downwards. "now suck." she commanded, and you didn't want to, you took some time before you leaned down- and it ticked her off.

she pushed down on your head, making you forcefully sink down onto her dick. "i said do not make me wait, obey if you want me to be nice." she warned you as you choked on her, and then she released her grip on your head. "go on, please me. show me that you if you cannot be of help in the battlefield, at least be good at something."

throwing away all your dignity and pride, you lifted your head up, your tongue running along her dick as you did so, before going back down all the way to the base. your actions made arlecchino shiver and she looked down at you with a dark stare, but said nothing.

you repeated this, bobbing your head up and down, and you could hear small little grunts from her. as you went up this time, your tongue ran over the tip, making her groan. you went down, angling yourself so it hit the back of your throat this time. oh, you felt arlecchino shiver. ".. hm, what a slut. you're surprisingly good at this." she told you, now gently grabbing your head and setting the pace. she bobbed your head a bit more faster, but you kept up with your tongue movement earlier. her grunts were becoming louder, but she was becoming more rougher too.

she pushed your head down and pulled on you with no remorse, like you were a toy for her pleasure only. you almost choked, the pace was becoming too fast for you, but she was already thrusting her hips into you. loud groans could be heard from her along with your whimpers and moans at the way she tugged on your hair and used you. she was trembling, her hips stuttering, and before you knew it-

she pulled you off, your lips creating a pop sound. "strip, dear." she commanded, staring down at you with half lidded eyes as she panted. oh, oh no. you didn't want to, but you were determined to see this through and not anger her. you slowly took off your clothes, leaving you only in your underwear. she now, gently took you in her hands, pulling you down on her lap to sit with your back facing her. "darling, open your legs." she purred in your ear. compared to earlier, she was much more gentler and affectionate. you closed your eyes in pure embarrassment, her hand cupping your breast as she spread soft kisses on your neck.

"tsk, those fatui soldiers.. must you know, that even after you've beat them up- they continue to speak about you. incessant chatter about your body, it makes my blood boil."

she whispered against your skin with a tone of possessiveness dripping from her words. her hands gently massaging the mounds of your breast, making you let out soft moans. "they do not know that beneath the orphanage, i hold you captive and that i am the one holding you, not them." as she let go of her words, she started to suck and bite on your skin, her other hand trailing down your tummy as she spoke. "i am not better than them, i am aware.. but i will certainly give you more what they can, my dear. join me, and i will make all of your dreams come true." her gentle words were accompanied with her hand ghosting against your clit, breath grazing against the sensitive marks on your skin, and her other hand squeezing your chest. your mind was hazy, you felt overstimulated, and all you could do was nod. you may not be aware, but arlecchino was overjoyed with your answer. "so wet, little mouse.."

she slowly pulled your underwear off, lifting your hips with only her strength, then kissing your back. she slammed you back down, her dick forcing it's way inside of you. the sheer pain was enough to bring you back to your senses and you gripped onto her lap as you let out a whine. your reaction made arlecchino feel guilty, she immediately wrapped her arms around you. "shh, shh.. i'm sorry, my dear but.. bear with me." she wiped away the tears from your eyes.

"i promise, now that you are mine darling, i will give you all the pleasures in the world.."

[cordidy]

Grieving...

The LaDS men helping you after Josephine and Caleb's fake death (cause he definitively is "shady guy" idc).

I took the part of not dating cause I wanted some friendly comfort and since Zayne is a chilhood friend I assumed he would be more present than the others, hence his is longer (😏🤭)

TW : mention of death, funeral

Featuring Zayne, Xavier, Rafayel and Sylus.

English is not my mother tongue.

- Zayne was in surgery when the explosion happened and it's only a couple of hours after you got admitted to Akso's ER, when he got back to his office to relax, that he got the memo as your physician.

- He spends the night by your side, refusing to move until you wake up and holds your hand the next day when the police comfirms they did not find any remains in the rubble of the house.

- The man will be HERE for you all the way down, moving onto your couch the moment he brought you back home. While he can't clear his bussy schedule, his free time will be dedicated to you, making sure you get healthy meals, rest and all the support you need but also leaving you space of needed.

- Zayne is very organized so wether it's the paperwork with the insurance or the funeral organization he will help and will even step up to take decisions when you mentally can't.

- He's madly in love with you but won't try anything innapropriate in your weaken state, going as far as gently push you away when you try to hit on him one night just to feel something else than the despair you've fallen into.

- "Not like this" he will whisper as you try to kiss him before breaking down in his arm. He will hold you while carressing your hair to try and sooth you thou, kissing your forehead gently, lulling you to sleep with sweet words.

- The day of the funeral he stands by your side, holding your hand tight to remind you you are not alone, your fingers intertwined being the only thing grounding you.

- On the following weeks he will abuse his prerogative as you physician to check your tension and run tests to make sure you are not letting yourself drown in sorrow. Dropping by you place after work will also become a habit and he won't hide the fact IT IS to check up on you, no shit given at the side eye you give him while he is cooking you dinner instead of instant noodles.

- Xavier finds out when the news reaches the Association.

- He will volunteer to bring you flowers and condoleances on behalf of your coworkers and will offer to drive you home when you get discharged from the hospital since you are neighbors.

- He will find ANY occasion to show up at your door. "I ran out of sugar" "do you have hot water ?" "The delivery guy (he bribed) gave me your package" all of these just to check on you without saying it out loud cause he knows you don't like people seeing you in a weak state.

- He will barely get sleep as he wants to be sure he won't miss your knock on the door when you'll start doing the same just to not be alone with your thoughts.

- It will become a habit for you to fall asleep on his couch whihe watching a movie to try and change your mind since your place, so full of memories, will become unbearable. His place will turn into your sanctuary even when he is at work as he gave you a spare key.

- After the funeral, once you're back to work, he will always offer to train together whenever he sees that look in your eyes, just to keep you busy and will start to do some overtime (mainly in the firm of sleeping at his desk) so he has an excuse to walk home with you.

- Whenever one of your friend come to visit and he knows he had a couple hours he will take the opportunity to turn the N109 zone upside down, looking for intel

- Rafayel heard about the explosion on the news, like everyone else but did not realize you were involved so, when you did not answer his messages for the past 3 days (cause you were at the hospital) he got pretty annoyed at being ignored, spaming your phone with complains.

- One evening, he shows up at your door unannounced, all pouting and whinning, thinking the bruises on your face are from another "stupid mission" and it's the reason you didn't show up to his last exhibition when he "really needed you to protect me from all these snobs !"

- "You obviously don't care about me or your job as a Bodyguard ! I could have died over the past 3 days and you wouldn't care" He complains dramatically, not expecting you to snap at him (very poor choice of words from his part thou !) and break down in tears, telling him how immature he is, that the world doesn't revolve around him and you don't want to see him again before slapping the door to his face.

- Thomas is the one telling him what happened when he reads about the upcoming funeral in the news and Rafayel is mortified. He shows up at your doors with flowers and when you tell him you don't want them he stops you "they are for your family..."

- He will spend all his nights on the phone with you, talking about everything, listening to you cry or just being there and won't hang out until you fall asleep (also answering on the first ring whenever you call him back if you had a nightmare)

- Sylus is not around at that time but that doesn't mean he doesn't know someone is trying to frame his organization and himself for the explosion. He will remain in the shadows thou while trying to find out who did it.

- Not being involved with you yet, it's not really about you but more about "fuck around and find out" to him.

- Luke and Kieran will attend the funeral discretly to keep an eye on the survivor and see if anything suspicious happens.

- You also start noticing strange little trinkets left here and there, a little coin, a shinny rock, a pretty leaf....

[bluerosegardens]

hello! Is it okay if you write dorm leaders reaction to a heavily energetic reader please, if you don’t want to Idm ^^

of course, anon! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you like it!

dorm leaders + gn!energetic!reader

c/w: i can't write for jamil very well but i tried, leona is annoyed by you but respects you still, can you tell i can’t write for vil. malleus’s part is like 60x more romantic than the rest of the characters sorry 🤧

notes: ok so i have only completed book 3, but ive gotten plenty of spoilers about the next four books so i think i wrote for them pretty well just a heads up tho

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS find you a little hard to keep up with. He himself has his outbursts and episodes like anybody else, but that also comes with anger, so he does his best to suppress them. But you? No, you were always this way, and in a positive manner. It almost reminded him of Kalim, except that you could handle yourself and seemed to be relatively smart, seeing that you were passing your classes as a non-magical person in a magical school.

Your excitability sometimes led to you have an evident, though not purposeful, disregard for the rules. It was irksome, yes, and it took a lot of restraint from him not to lash out at you as much as he may at Ace or Deuce—he still feels guilty from his Overblot, and besides, you’re a lot easier to stand at times than compared to those two. But, overall, he still manages, opting to instead recite the rule you broke tamely, and receiving an understanding nod from you that makes him pleased. Quietly, he’ll let out this small sigh, a symbol of his appreciation for your respect of his strict ways. It isn’t easy for him to change, and while he’s trying his best, it’s nice to know he has somebody who’s willing to comply with the rules for his sake.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR somehow gets even sleepier in your presence. Just the sight of you having so much energy makes him lethargic. Why were you always so peppy? How were you always so peppy? It didn’t make any sense to him. You being this way wouldn’t be so much of an issue if you weren't so persistent. But here you were, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to wake him, and here he was, tired and annoyed and letting you drag him to his classes just to shut you up. It was like having a brighter, more talkative version of Cheka that actually knew what made him tick. It was irritating, but if he really hated it so much, why'd he always comply and go along with you? He'd never admit it, not in a million years, but he has this respect for you after all you've done for NRC, so he finds it best to give into your wishes, no matter how childish you seem. Because he knows that you aren't. He's seen it play out with every single Overblot. You're a lot more clever than you look, Herbivore, and he gives credit where credit is due.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO has to deal with Floyd on the daily, so it's not like this is anything new to him. If anything, it's better, considering your energy doesn't take the form of violence, like a certain Leech twin. At first, Azul did mistakenly assume your energy to be included with stupidity, which was a grave error on his part, when he discovered your scheme to destroy his contracts. In fact, he really thought you to be dumb enough to forget to even drink the water breathing potion before you went underwater to the museum. He was harshly incorrect, however, and so now he deals with the price of having to put up with your bounciness. You visit the Mostro Lounge quite often, helping out for an extra profit where you could and checking up on Azul, despite his protests against it. He's internally thankful, somewhere deep down, but it makes him embarrassed to admit it.

JAMIL VIPER is tired of this treatment. What did he ever do to deserve this? Is this punishment for his ill thoughts toward Kalim he's harbored for so many years? Why'd a Kalim Part Two have to come along? And hang around the Scarabia dorm so much? He was tired, over it, and so done with this crap. At the very least, you're not irredeemably dumb, and you're able to handle and care for yourself. You've made that quite evident from your life in Ramshackle to the way you've dealt with numerous overblots. He's surprised someone of your.. nature.. could be so responsible. So, as a minor thanks for not being completely stupid, he does his very best to.. avoid you. Why? Well, because even though you're tolerable, he'd prefer to not have a complete outburst of anger at you, fueled by Kalim's irresponsibility and the two of your energetic natures combined. So, consider this a favor. He's trying to be considerate, let him do what he needs to do.

VIL SCHOENHEIT is intrigued, not annoyed, but not overjoyed, either. Epel’s a handful already, so now that he’s taking on yet another project, he’d prefer it if you were a little more compliant than the purple haired first year. He understood it felt difficult to sit still for a while, but just try for him, okay? Otherwise he finds it rather endearing. He thinks it’s cute, the way you get excited to see him all the time. It’s flattering, definitely. He just wishes you'd sit still while he paints your nails, potato.

IDIA SHROUD is overwhelmed please leave him alone why are you so wild god help him. He’s already constantly afraid of Kalim and Cater jumping him, now he’s gotta worry about another secret THIRD threat? this is NOT fun he NEVER should have exited his room WHY did he let Ortho drag him around today. You kind of scare him into attending classes. Though he guesses (?) he’s appreciative of having another person who seems so enthusiastic about games like he is. But please don’t scare him like that or else he WILL be going into conniptions.

MALLEUS DRACONIA finds it interesting, adorable and very fascinating. He’d adore you regardless of what you were like, but this is just so endearing to him. It’s one thing that people seem to get iffy around him, whether that be out of respect or fear or both. But you don’t seem to be overly respectful of him, nor afraid. It might seem like a death wish to most, but in your case? You were too enthralled with the current task of running up to him excitedly every time you saw him to even give it any thought. And that is what he appreciates and desires so much out of you. It brings a smile to his lips every time you bound outside of Ramshackle at night to walk with him, or when you have this big grin on your face as you talk about something that interests you. He couldn’t ask for it any other way, really.

[calicoups]

౨ৎ cinnamon buns & warm hugs — csc

synopsis seungcheol was dreaming about something last night, so what's a better way to see that adorable smile of his than to surprise him, hm? pairing seungcheol x fem reader genre sickly sweet fluff note this is kind of a part two to 3:37 AM but can be read as a standalone! seungcheol calls reader 'baby' & 'love', but other than that, it is pure fluff so no warnings! let me know if i should add anything to the warnings. by the way, i did proofread this but if there's still mistakes/typos, pretend there's none (i hate proofreading sometimes). word count 2.0k (don't look at me)

seungcheol's arm falls over to the left side of the bed, body tangled up in the duvet and small puffs of air escaping his parted cherry coloured lips. his cheeks tinted with a slight rosy colour and his hair looking like he rubbed an inflated balloon on his head.

he lets out a sound of content and rolls onto his stomach, right arm still on the left side of the bed. seungcheol's face scrunches up and he makes a 'hm' sound at the cold spot next to him. seungcheol struggles to open his eyes fully with the way they are still heavy with sleep and exhaustion from the previous day.

turning his head to where the clock is, he squints his eyes to check the time, making out a blur of numbers: 10:24 am. realising you are nowhere in the vicinity of your room, seungcheol vocalises a little "baby?" with a groggy voice.

not recieving any response, he decides to get out of the half warm bed to look for you. seungcheol is most clingy and needy in the mornings, so if he notices that you aren't around, he is definitely going to look for you like a little child whose mother left to quickly get something from another room.

he slowly but surely stumbles out of bed, feet thumping and arms swinging loosely a little as he is not fully alert yet.

"baby, where are you?", no response once again. kkuma is nowhere in sight either so he figures you took him out for a walk. but you usually go earlier...maybe you just decided to go a bit later today. so, seungcheol drags his sleepy body back to your bedroom and flops back into bed.

i should check up on her anyways, though. he always does, even if you've fully informed him of where you're going. he won't be able to live with himself if anything was to happen to you.

he lifts his body a little from the mattress to make a grab for his phone from the bedside table, struggling to locate it at first. once he manages to, his thumb immediately swipes through his phone to tap on the phone app and clicks on your contact — the first one in the 'recents' list.

the phone rings twice before you pick up with a small "hey, cherry! what's u-"

"you left me all alone in bed." you could literally hear and visualise the pout seungcheol must have on his face right now. a giggle falls from your sweet lips, the sound seungcheol loves most.

you suppress a second round of giggles before responding, "sorry, cherry, i just took kkuma out for a walk. i'll be back soon. in fact, i am on my way back now."

"mm, be back soon, baby. i miss holding you. the bed is so cold without you."

"oh, my big baby misses me? i'm sprinting back home now!", the sound of wind is heard through the speakers along with kkuma's barking as what seungcheol assumes is you starting to run.

"hey, be careful. don't run, just get home safe", seungcheol's stern voice fills your ears and it makes you grin at how caring he is. soon after, you exchange goodbyes and end the call after letting seungcheol know you're on your way. well, you will be once you pick up a little treat for him.

by the time you arrive back home and slip off your shoes along with unhooking kkuma from her leash, you’re exhausted. slumping onto the couch to take a breather after grabbing a drink of water from the kitchen, you sit there quietly, giving yourself a minute before doing anything else.

soft but audible snores make their way to you and you immediately know who they belong to. well, partly because it’s only seungcheol in the house besides you and also because he’s the only one out of you two who snores. seungcheol fell sleep again.

you tiptoe over to the bedroom as quietly as you can, making sure not to wake him. you slowly push open the door, just enough to peer into the room only to see seungcheol flat on his stomach, left cheek smushed against the pillow, phone next to his hand and legs sprawled all over the bed with the duvet halfway on the floor.

he’s still snoring and a few giggles build up in your throat before a lightbulb goes off in your head. a past memory of you arguing with seungcheol whether he snores or not in his sleep creeps up on you and it gives you the best idea ever. you can prove it to him once and for all.

you slip out your phone from your sweatpants' pocket and open the camera app to record him. walking closer, you make sure to not drag your slippers to prevent making sound and waking him up — you needed this evidence really badly.

whilst recording his snores and little sighs here and there, his mouth moves as if he’s chewing something. is he dreaming of eating something yummy?

this is priceless. you have got to get this on camera. so you do. and just as you’ve had enough of the fun, your boyfriend stirs and switches positions to laying on his back, letting out a few grunts with each difficult movement.

“wakey, wakey, cherry. i’m home!” you drag out the ‘o’ in the last word and tap him a little, ruffling his hair then pinching his cheeks.

seungcheol hums and lifts his arms, like zombies do, to search for you and pulls you down onto him, making you let out a sound of surprise. he tightens his arms around you and his body relaxes.

“five more minutes.” he grumbles but you can’t let him do that. not when you’re so excited to show him what you brought after the walk with kkuma who is now running through the door and jumping onto her dad's legs.

“nope, come on, i brought you something.”

kkuma waddles closer and licks her owners face in an attempt to make him get out of bed and as if she’s agreeing with you.

seungcheol lets go of you and pushes himself up, swinging his legs over and pushing his feet into his slippers.

“what is it?” he says with a raspy voice, as he latches onto your arm and walks alongside you, kind of pulling you down at the same time.

“you’ll see, cherry!”

he walks over to a bag on the kitchen island and peeks at the contents. he looks back at you with the biggest question mark above his head.

you laugh at his expression, “you know how last night i got up to use the bathroom?” he nods.

“i heard you mumbling something about cinnamon buns, so i decided to buy you some,” you lift the white box out of the paper bag, “ta-da!”

seungcheol’s eyes light up at the sight of the cinnamon buns displayed in the white box through a clear piece of square plastic. he practically jumps onto you in a hug and you almost fall back with the force of his hug. you don’t care though, as long as he’s in your arms and happy, that’s all that matters.

he peppers your face with tender but speedy kisses, all the while mumbling little “thank you”’s and other words of affection between each kiss.

“go wash up, i’ll prepare these for you, cherry,” you thread your fingers through his short chestnut hair before pushing him towards the bathroom, “go, go! or i’ll eat them all!”

once your boyfriend disappears into the bathroom, you place the cinnamon buns onto seungcheol’s favourite plate and pair it with hot chocolate you also picked up on the way.

suddenly remembering the video you took of him, you walk over to your phone to watch it over since you didn’t get the chance to earlier.

seungcheol walks out of the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind him and makes his way over to his giggling girlfriend with a bounce in his step. he takes his unassigned yet assigned seat at the island and looks at you curiously.

“what are you laughing at?” he questions.

“huh? oh, nothing, it’s just a silly video,” you try to cease the laughter in order to keep the video a secret and point to the cinnamon buns, “are they good?”

seungcheol picks one up and takes a bite, chewing a bit before his eyes widen at the deliciousness. but he hears you laughing again.

“hey, i wanna see as well,” he tries to lean over the island to take a peek but you move backwards, “hey!”

now, he’s pouting completely. his pout is deadly, there’s nothing that can save you from this. so, you think it over, to show or not to show? show it is, you don’t want to die from his cute pouty lips.

you turn your phone towards him after rewinding the video and hitting play, making sure the noises are able to be heard. you hear his snores once again and scan his face to try and see what he might be thinking.

“what the…” is all he manages to say. now, he knows he snores. you win this argument. you snicker at his reaction, covering your mouth with your hand.

just when seungcheol thought it was over, the video starts zooming in and shows him chewing on literally nothing in his sleep and this time you definitely laugh out loud.

between laughs, you ask, “what were you eating, cherry? and now, i do have proof that you snore”

“nothing! and okay, fine. i do snore, you win. but, when did you take this?” seungcheol’s voice rises in pitch towards the end of his sentence, his eyes almost popping out at the video.

“when i got back like ten minutes ago, did you not hear me unlock the door?”

“clearly not if i was sleeping like that!”, he jabs a finger at your phone and you break out into a laugh again, “it’s not funny!”

now, your stomach hurts from laughing so much at your silly boyfriend and his antics, “okay, okay. sorry, i’ll stop laughing.”

you hands go to squish seungcheol’s cheeks together, intensifying his pout. you pick up his bitten cinnamon bun and put it up to his mouth for him to eat. he opens his mouth and leans forwards and in the process of biting the sweet treat, he also bites your finger.

“ouch! cherry, what are you doing?” you yelp at the pin prick like bite.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𖧷ㅤㅤ

later, you're sitting on the couch between seungcheol's plush thighs with a plate of the cinnamon buns on your lap. warmth transfers from his front to your back, making you lean back into him more, chasing that feeling of cosiness.

you pick up a bun and bring it to his lips which he takes a bite from and then puts his lips to the top of your head, "thank you, love."

seungcheol reaches down and pulls you up into a back hug with his strong hands.

"mm! they gunna fall!" you squeak with your mouth stuffed, words not coming out properly because of a full mouth. laughing at your fake annoyance, he hugs you tighter.

cuddles with seungcheol were your favourite thing ever. being in his buff arms made you feel so safe, it's kind of unexplainable and something one will only understand if they experience it themselves — that's not going to happen though, these cuddles are exclusively reserved for you and no one else.

seungcheol moves his head around to give a kiss to your rosy cheek, except he presses his lips into your cheek really hard, as if to leave an imprint forever, and then pushes your cheeks together, laughing to himself.

"mmph, leh go, cheol..." but he doesn't let go, just continues to giggle at the way you scrunch your nose.

"my silly girl, love you so much" he mumbles into your hair.

you tilt your head backwards to look at him, "love you too, my cherry," then look back ahead, "even if you are the silliest guy in the world."

"hey! what did i do to deserve this" you don't need to turn around to confirm the pout on his face.

"you're my silly guy. silly cherry."

a/n ; totally did not self indulge in this piece...i decided to make a part two to 3:37 am (you don't have to read that to understand this btw!) because of what he said while dreaming hehe! I MISS HIM. so much hhhnnngggfff also i didn't know how to end this so like...excuse the dry ending lol

[frankenkyle19]

The devils chocolate 🍫

Okay here it is!! Mmm it’s so 🥴 enjoy!

word count: 2.5k (Damn)

description: Tate likes chocolate. He finds chocolate in your closet. He eats it. Why does he want to fuck so bad? Aka Tate eats sex chocolate and gets incredibly horny aka pretend that sex chocolate actually does work this well (from what I’ve heard it does not, but let me live my life)

warnings: use of aphrodisiac chocolates, handjobs, blowjobs, male masturbation, whining, sub!Tate but also a bit of dom!Tate, protected sex (use a condom, be smart), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, that’s all I can think of right now, ENJOY!!! <3

Tate didn’t know what fucking sex chocolate was. He died in 1994 and was pretty sure that sex chocolate was not a thing while he was living. So how was he to know that when he found chocolate in your closet that he shouldn’t eat it? It was in a ziplock baggie, unlabeled and his curiosity got the best of him. As a ghost, he didn’t need to eat, but sometimes he did enjoy the occasional treat or two. And chocolate happened to be one of his favorite treats. You always brought him a chocolate bar when you got back from weekly shopping, but you hadn’t gone shopping this week. 

Tate was a nosy son of a bitch too. There was no hiding things from him, because he always snooped around no matter how many times he’d been in your room. It was slightly annoying, but oh well. 

So he had sat on your bed, eating all ten mini chocolate bars, grinning. He figured you hid it from him because you wanted it all to yourself, but he had found it. That’s what you get for hiding his favorite treat from him.

He stuffed the ziplock baggie back into the closet and popped back into your bed, curling up on top of the covers as he awaited your return. 

As he laid there, he began to feel… odd. A warmth had begun to bubble in his lower stomach. His skin felt hot, like fire almost, and he thought maybe he had gotten sick. But no, that couldn’t be it. He didn’t get sick as a ghost. So what was it?

He sat up, rubbing at his sweaty blonde curls, pushing them off of his sweat slicked forehead as he took a deep breath. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked down to see the very prominent bulge in his jeans. Why was he hard? He didn’t really feel horny? He shrugged it off, figuring it would go away soon enough. His forever teenaged hormones sometimes got the better of him, and he assumed this was just one of those times.

But it didn’t go away. It in fact become worse. So much worse that he ached, the confines of his jeans proving uncomfortable against his ever growing erection. What had gotten into him? He checked the time and figured he still had a while before you got home, so why not just rub one out? Sure, your touch felt so much better than his own, but at this rate he didn’t think he could wait for you to get home, plus he was a bit embarrassed. 

He shifted on the bed, trying to get comfortable as he popped the button on his jeans. A quiet sigh of relief left his lips as some of the pressure lifted. He slid them down just to his knees, hoping this would be quick and he could redress as if nothing happened. Next: the boxers. They were oddly more wet than usual, his cock seeming to seep pre-cum. He usually did produce quite a bit, but this? Geesh this was extreme. He slid them off, grimacing at the stickiness it left in its wake. 

His cock was red, tip dripping and searing hot. Slapping his stomach as it was released from its confines, it twitched, signaling that he really needed to start fucking touching himself before it got worse.

Tate was an impatient person. He wanted what he wanted and he wanted it then and there. Why should he have to wait? So, he spat into his hand before gingerly wrapping it around his engorged length, mouth falling open as a heavy breath fell from them. Your hand would feel much better, but right now his felt pretty fucking good.

A few strokes in had him whining. Tate was always loud, didn’t matter if he was alone or with you. He always made his pleasure known. He thumbed over the tip, spreading the viscous liquid that seemed to pour from his sensitive cock head. God how he wished you were here right now.

A few more pumps of his rock hard cock had his stomach tensing, lip bitten tightly between his teeth as he struggled to keep his eyes open. It felt so good, but at the same time not enough. He wanted you. Your touch. Your warmth. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck please-“ he cried into the empty space, bucking into his hand as he got closer to his release.

Poor poor boy. Little did he know you had just gotten home, with his Hershey chocolate bar. If he’d just been patient… 

You called out his name but he was so lost in his pleasure that he hadn’t heard.

He also didn’t hear when you made your way up the stairs to your room, a puzzled looking crossing your face at the quiet mumbled whines and pleas coming from inside. Then it dawned on you. It was Tate. He was probably too horny to wait for you to get home and was getting himself off.

You decided to watch him for a moment in silence, watching how his hand flew rapidly over his cock, practically squeezing the life out of it as he got right to that edge.

He was so far gone that when you fully opened the door and stepped inside, he couldn’t stop. He saw you, but made no move to cover himself up. His cheeks burned red in embarrassment, a drastic difference from the way his hand rubbed over his cock.

He looked at you with wide eyes, pleading. He just prayed you wouldn’t stop him. He wouldn’t be able to handle it, really. It would kill him if he wasn’t already dead. Hell, it may re-kill him. 

You closed the door behind you and took a step towards the bed, seeing how distressed he was. You’d punish him later, but now you saw how much he needed this.

“Cum, Tate.” Was all you mumbled, all he needed before his hips seized up, head thrown back into the pillow as ropes of hot, white cum spurted from his cock, falling over his chest and hand.

You sat beside him on the bed, marveling at just how wrecked he looked. Panting, sweaty and… still hard?

Sure, Tate had good stamina but it always took him at least five minutes to regain an erection after a release.

He seemed to notice it too, groaning.

“What the fuck- I- it’s like I wasn’t even horny and then just- BAHM! You’re hard… and it feels different. Like more intense. It’s weird.”

His words made you stifle a laugh and he looked at you with a frown, obviously upset that you were laughing at him.

You stood up, walking to your closet and opening it. There it was. The now empty ziplock baggie that once contained your special chocolate. 

“Tate please tell me you didn’t eat all of those-“

“I was gonna save you some but it tasted so good- it was fancy chocolate, not like the Hershey bars. I figured you were hogging it from me.”

You held up the Hershey bar in your hand. “I got this for you, Tate. That was for me.”

“Well you shouldn’t have hid it from me. That’s mean, so I ate it. Alllll of it- agh fuck- god my dick hurts-“ he groaned, looking up at you with a pained expression.

“Yeah no fucking shit-“

He looked confused.

“Tate you ate all of them… seriously? Oh my god- you’re going to be so sick-“

“Why? Was it poisoned?”

“No! It’s- it’s an aphrodisiac… the chocolate.. oh Jesus-“

He began to squirm “I didn’t graduate highschool and You expect me to know what that word means?”

“Sex chocolate, Tate. I got it from a sex store because I wanted to try it with you… I put it in the ziplock so my parents wouldn’t see the wrappers.. you..you’re not supposed to eat more than one in a three hours and no more than four in a day… Tate, you ate ten of them.”

“…oops?”

“Do you feel okay?” You asked, voice taking on a worried tone.

“Other than my dick? Yeah I think so. I’m just- really hot- and- mmm can you please touch me? Just a little bit- you can just jerk me off- I’ll take anything.” 

There it was. The begging already started. How could you say no to him? Part of you wanted to punish him, but it seemed as if he was already punishing himself. He realized his mistake.

“So it’s like- when a man takes viagra to get hard?”

“Kind of. It enhances things-“ without warning you wrapped your hand around Tate’s poor, hard and dripping dick, causing him to lurch forward. If he thought his touch felt good, yours felt like heaven. He swore it was the best thing he’d ever experienced.

“Can you- s-suck it?” He whined, bucking into your hand. “Please it’s been sooooo long since you’ve given me head- I need it so bad baby-“ the last time you gave him head he had came in your mouth with no warning. You weren’t a fan of his cum, or any really, so you didn’t enjoy it. 

“I promise I won’t cum in your mouth-“ he continued “please please pretty please?” He was always so good with his begging that you gave in, leaning down to take the tip into your mouth. You grimaced a bit at the taste of his previous release. Many people liked the taste of cum, but you had just never seen the appeal. Still, you continued down his cock until your nose hit the bush of curls on his groin.

Tate felt like he was having a heart attack. He writhed on the bed, hips bucking into your mouth but then pulling away. It was too much, but it wasn’t enough at the same time. 

“F-fuck- fuck I’m so sorry for eating that chocolate-“

“I bet you are, baby.” You popped off his dick to reply before letting your tongue swirl over the tip in a teasing manner.

A tear dropped from Tate’s eye at your teasing. He had never felt this needy or desperate in his entire life. He wanted this to end, but at the same time he didn’t. And all the while a deep ache settled into his stomach. He had taken too much, and it was beginning to border on uncomfortable. He vowed that once this was over, he’d never eat an unlabeled chocolate bar ever ever again. Maybe any chocolate ever for that matter.

He already felt himself teetering on the edge again, already, and cursed himself more for eating that damn chocolate, practically overdosing himself on it. He certainly was paying the price for it.

“Close-“ he choked out which caused you to pull your mouth away, replacing it with your hand. “You’ve got this baby, c’mon, cum for me.” You cooed.

Tate bit his bottom lip hard, eyes welling with tears “can I- can I fuck you too? I think Im going to need to cum again after this-“ he panted, every inch of his pale body covered with sweat as he fucked up into your hand. 

He came with a shout, hips bucking out of control as he shuddered from the aftershocks. 

Once you were sure you’d helped him through it, you pulled your hand away, looking him over in awe.

“Of course you can, I’m here darling, couldn’t let my poor boy suffer? What kind of person would that make me?” 

In an instant you were pinned to the bed, Tate hovering above you as he looked down on you hungrily before pulling you into a hot, hard kiss, teeth clashing and whines being pulled from both of your mouths. 

He all but ripped off your shirt, letting the material fall off before he unclipped your bra and tossed it away as well. The next few moments happened in a lust filled blur. He reached into your bedside table and pulled out a condom before ripping off the remainder of your clothing.

“Please can I fuck you? I need it so bad- need to feel you around my cock.” He cried, sliding the condom onto his never wavering hard cock.

In response to his question, you hooked your ankles around his waist and pulled him down on top of you, urging him towards your wet core.

“Of course baby, fuck me as hard as you need to.” 

He didn’t need any more convincing than that. He thrust balls deep inside you, giving you just a split second to adjust before he was pulling back out and slamming back into you. It always amazed you how quick Tate could go from a whining blubbering mess to this… 

You clenched around him, milking his cock, which caused a loud moan to fall from his lips. He was so sensitive, but he needed it. Just one more. This had to be it, his body couldn’t take it anymore. 

His hips slammed into your brutally, his pelvis hitting your clit perfectly, the mix of harsh pain and pleasure nearly making you drool. You loved when Tate fucked you like this. So raw and animalistic.

You could tell when he was getting close by the way his hips lost their rhythm, and his arms got shaky as he held himself up above you.

You pulled him down for a kiss, urging him on as you reached down to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves on fire and ready to explode any second.

Tate growled at your actions, slapping your hand away and replacing it with his own. How dare you? He wanted to be the one to pleasure you. It forever boosted his ego and edged on his pleasure seeing how you fell apart under him.

When he came, it was with the most pathetic, loud cry you’d ever heard. Tears dropped down from his beautiful eyes as he collapsed onto you.

You came nearly the exact same time he had, body trembling and clenching around him as the coil snapped, waves of pleasure washing over you.

You had to end up rolling Tate off of you over onto his side as he was too exhausted to do so himself. He smiled sleepily up at you, finally looking content. Thank god. 

You cleaned him up with a warm washcloth and got fresh sheets and blankets for the bed. You got him a glass of water as well. Though he didn’t need It per say, you wanted him to know you cared about him. Tate loved being babied during aftercare, and you found many ways to show your love to him through these acts.

Curled up next to you, finally redressed, breath having evened out, he let his eyes fall shut. His stomach rolled a bit as he thought about the chocolate. God that damn chocolate… never again, he thought. But luckily for him, if it ever were to happen again (god forbid), at least he had you to help him through it. 

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 5)

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Latina Reader

Blurb: Jake comes home to you cooking and he doesn’t know how to handle it. (And just straight fluff)

TW: NONE, just straight fluff bc I’ve been feeling like I need some Hangman fluff.

Word count: ngl I have no idea

Enjoy! Sorry it took a while to get back to get this out, I’ve been having some family issues. <3 Next chapter will get into some deep(ish) stuff so be ready!

Masterlist!! Catch up here!

Chapter 5

Jake had been thinking about you standing in his kitchen in nothing but that see-through shirt and pink panties all morning. He almost ran into a tree on his morning run just thinking about it. The way your eyes looked up at him in mischief almost like they dared him to look.

But the lack of sleep that emanated in them made his heart hurt for you. He had heard you sniffling in your sleep and then heard the way you kept rolling over in bed. He assumed you were just trying to get comfortable, but as soon as he saw your face he knew it was something else.

He recognized that look of not only fatigue, but the look of someone who was having nightmares. He’d seen it in his old man when he was growing up and he’d seen it in his old weapon’s system officer.

Jake thought to himself that he would tell Bradley and Natasha if it got worse but for now, he was keeping this secret to himself. No need to embarrass you. You’ve only been in his life two days and he already knew a lot about you, maybe not factually, but emotionally.

Jake’s day consisted of class and then flying with Maverick and the rest of the Daggers, nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, the only thing that was out of the ordinary was you cooking him dinner when he got home.

“Hey,” you smile at him. You were wearing some jeans and a loose silky-looking black shirt. “I made some pasta. I figured you’d be hungry after work and I needed to eat before heading out.”

“Oh,” Jake staggered. “Thank you.”

You had surprised him.

One second you look like you want to rip him a new one and now…you’re almost sweet. He was thankful for the small gesture and he wanted to make sure you knew how thankful he was.

Small things always mean the most to him.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, watching as you mix something on the stove. “Maybe one of these days, when you’re free, we can go out for dinner and get to know one another?”

You look up from the stove and turn to face him, eyes wide. “As a date?”

“N-no,” he quickly reassures you. “As friends, if that’s what you’d like.”

You take a minute to look him up and down, wondering if he’s being serious. When his face stays hopeful and expectant, you let your heart slow and mind settle. He was serious, and nothing was going to change his mind.

“Okay, we can do that,” you tell him. You check your AppleWatch and suck in a breath.

“What is it?”

“I have to get to work soon.” You look up at Jake to see him grinning down at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head and walking around the island between you two before reaching behind you to grab two bowls from the cabinet behind you. He’s so close, you can smell the familiar scent of jet fuel and a mix of his cologne. He’s radiating heat, even from a few inches away from you.

He must’ve seen the look of surprise on your face because he quickly says, “Just grabbing us some bowls so we can eat before you have to leave.”

“That’s fine,” you tell him. “Just, the jet fuel–”

“I’ll go shower really quick,” he tells you, starting to back away and go to his room.

“No,” you stop him, grabbing his bicep. “It’s fine, it’s kinda comforting.”

He smiles down at you before reaching behind you again, close to your butt and whispering, “I’m just grabbing some forks.”

You move to the side before turning toward the pot full of pasta and grabbing the bowls from Jake. As you begin to serve, you ask, “So how was work?”

Jake looks at you in surprise. It had been a long time since a woman asked how his day at work was. “It was good, we had some flight training for a mission and that’s really it, it took most of the day to get it all done.”

He watches as you twirl spaghetti and then masterfully place it in a bowl. “How was your day? Did you get to sleep?”

“Who says I didn’t sleep last night?” you ask.

“I saw the bags under your eyes this morning,” he tells you. “I can get you one of those rain machines if that helps.”

“No,” you tell him, smiling to yourself. Then shrugging you add, “I just had a nightmare.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not actually.”

He waits until you’ve set the bowl down before touching your arm and pulling your face to look up at him. “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.”

You take deep breaths, not wanting to cry at the gesture or even his soft touch. It’s been many years since you’ve been touched gently, you almost want to sink into his arms. Instead, you nod softly and smile up at him. “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

He lets go of your arm and takes a small step back, before letting you finish your twirling. Once you’ve finished, he grabs both plates before guiding you to the dining room table.

“So how long are you working?” Jake asks you.

“The same ten hour shift I always work,” you chuckle. He smiles at you before beginning to eat. You take it as your sign to eat, nothing but the clanking of forks and slurping of spaghetti filling the room.

“So Y/N,” Jake starts. “When are you free?”

You smile and take another bite of spaghetti before telling him, “I usually have Monday and Sunday off. Penny likes to let me have one weekend a month off. Something about letting me reset.”

“Maybe then we can do something,” Jake tells you. Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “This is really good. I didn’t know I had stuff to make pasta in the house.”

“You didn’t,” you smirk. “I went out and got some stuff.”

Jake stops eating, searching your face for any lies before smiling at you in the cocky way he did then first time you met. “You didn’t have to do that. I would’ve gotten the stuff for you if you would’ve made me a list.”

“No, I needed to see what stores were close by.” You wave your hand in dismissal before stuffing your mouth with pasta. You smile at him before adding, “Besides, you shop like a man.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you suck at shopping and getting the good produce.”

“Not everyone has the luxury of having someone cook for them,” Jake points out. “Which I will be cooking next time, call it a pay back of sort.”

“Or we could alternate the cooking,” you tell him sweetly.

Jake only smiles at you before nodding softly and drawling, “Alright, Sweetheart. We can do that.”

Next part here!!

Tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[sl-vega]

ʚɞ UPCOMING WORKS

↳ a list of all my upcoming bluelock fics this month! (i may add more) so let me know if you wanna be tagged in them, I won't tag anyone directly in this post due to tumblr's limitations, but i will take note of your user, i will still check if tagging you is possible and i will let you know if there are any issues with tagging you, also if you change your user right before one of the fics comes out, please let me know. everything here is first come first serve! (not that i think any of the taglists will get filled up)

❀˖° SCARY? MY GOD YOU'RE DIVINE

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo x [GN!] Reader

In which your boyfriend hates the way he looks due to his uncanny resemblance to some of their family members that they aren't exactly fond of, but you're here to assure them that they're perfect just the way they are.

(3/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/zestyseggsydaddy69, @/peepeepopoooo

ꨄ︎ FAKE THAT LOVE!

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [FEM!] Reader, Shidou Ryusei x Sae Itoshi

rin's older brother is coming back from college just in time for the itoshi family's thanksgiving dinner, and with a boyfriend in tow, so naturally, like the spiteful little shit he is, he decides to get you to pretend to be his girlfriend to one up sae. (tldr; rin is petty, so he gets his friend that he may or may not have feelings for to be his fake girlfriend, and family shenanigans ensue

(2/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/peepeepopoooo

༘⋆✿ BOY CRAZY FOR A CRAZY BOY

╰┈➤ pairing: Shidou Ryusei x [FEM!] Reader

being rin's childhood best friend, you've naturally grown fond of his older brother, sae, a sentiment that you've carried far into your adulthood like the hopeless romantic you are (much to rin's dismay) so after practically begging the poor boy to set you up with his brother, he begrudgingly agrees. but what happens next when you arrive at sae's apartment, only to find his crazy roommate? and what happens when you start to fall for him instead?!

(1/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo

𝜗𝜚 FIRST DATE FOR THE SECOND TIME

╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [FEM!] Reader

after karasu accidentally ghosted you without explanation after leaving for bluelock for a few months, it's safe to say that you assumed he dumped you. but what's worse is that you suddenly see him on tv playing in the blue lock vs u-20 match. but suddenly, after traveling to shibuya to take your mind off of him, you happen to run into the same stupid crow that broke your heart again. but part of you wants to try again with him, so will ya' give him a chance?

(2/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo, @/eloniezv

✿-INEFFABLE BUREAUCRACY-✿

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [GN!] Reader

campaigning season has come to an end, and with a heavy heart, you had to accept the fact that you lost the student council election to the ever so lovely rin itoshi, but during lunch, your former rival pulls you aside for a personal matter. now what ever could it be? (or in which two so-called "enemies" get over themselves and finally realize that they could be more than just rivals)

(3/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/zestyseggsydaddy69, @/peepeepopoooo

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ CAFE CRUSHIN'

╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [BARISTA!] Reader

after the recent Blue Lock 11 VS Japan's U-20 game took the world by storm, a certain Karasu Tabito had caught your attention, not that you're expecting anything to come from your little crush, there's no way you'd actually meet him in person,....right? spoiler alert!: turns out that you do, and now you're face-to-face with your so-called celebrity crush, and your co-workers aren't helping that matter

(2/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo, @/eloniezv

[belles-non-wallpapering-content]

Lunchbox E.S x FEM! reader

Overture-Everyday the guys offer you lunch, but you can't quite take them up on the offer.

CWs-Insecurity around eating and food, quasi-ED behaviors, mentions of possession, aliens, monsters. All of the ghostbusters are gossipy bitches, but Egon's still a sweetie and so is Ray.

A/N-Don't know how relatable this will be, but I like it and am moderately proud of it. Every Monday I'm doing a light angst, and if you want to read the other things I did/am doing this month you could do that here:  October Writing Master List

“Do you want anything for lunch? I think we’re ordering chinese–” They offered almost every day, and you always declined. You’d worked in the ghostbusters office for almost a month now, as the receptionist on days Janine was off or preferred to work at night. 

“No thank you, I’m ok.”

“Alright, let us know if you change your mind, we always order too much anyway.” Ray called out to you as they started to move upstairs to relax until their next call. 

“Ok, thanks guys. You should have another hour until the next appointment.” 

You spent another 20 minutes typing on the computer before the food came, and after one last offer to eat with them, the guys disappeared upstairs.

********

You tried not to eavesdrop on their conversations. It wasn’t often that they were upstairs while you were still working, when they aren’t on calls they’re usually in the lab. But when they were upstairs, you could hear them pretty clearly. 

“You know I’ve never seen her eat?”  Peter brought up, and you couldn’t ignore that.

“Yeah me neither.” Ray spoke up, but with a little more concern than Peter had.

“Do you think she’s an alien or something?” Honestly you weren’t sure if you should be offended. Of all things that were slightly odd about you, Winston thinking you were an alien because of your eating habits was a little shocking. 

“Maybe she’s possessed.” Peter laughing at you was not a rare occurrence, but that stung a little, since he was clearly joking. 

“She hasn’t shown any traits of possession since she started here.” Egon’s defense of you was–flattering, even if Peter was joking. Maybe it was just the bottom of the barrel, flattery-wise. But between the fact that the conversation had drifted to you being possessed, and the fact that you’d had a major league crush on Egon since you started, you would take what you could get.  

“I think she’s just not hungry.” Ray always was such a sweetie.

A loud buzzer rang out, which meant it was time to chart Egon’s fungi growth. You had to when they were out, but since Egon was here he was doing it himself. Unfortunately, that did not stop the other guys’ conversation.  

“She’s worked here for 3 weeks, I think we’re past the point of ‘not hungry’. Let’s talk monsters in human form.” Winston said, and you couldn’t say for sure if he was joking, but you were leaning towards no. 

“You could hear that?” You assumed it was a question, but the tone he used almost made it sound like a statement; one he was very concerned by. 

“Yeah. The giant hole in the ceiling does kind of lend itself to good acoustics. But it’s cool, no worries.” You really tried to brush it off, forcing a little bit of laughter out. Getting well into the uncanny valley of the unbothered, and Egon was not at all buying it. 

“No. I'm sorry about that, I’ll go get them to stop.” He stood straighter, grateful for the new next step in making you feel better. But that would only draw more attention, and make it worse. 

“Egon it’s ok, really. Go check on your spores, I heard the buzzer go off a second ago.” He gave one short nod, and then turned to go to his lab, still looking like a kicked puppy. He felt so guilty that not only would the guys say that, but that you could hear the whole thing. Equally matched with his guilt, was a mild concern for you. He came back about 15 minutes later, and thankfully the conversation had drifted away from you. 

“So should we be worried about your eating habits?” It was the first thing he said to you when he came back, marked by concern and said with the sincere tone with which he said anything. 

“I don’t think so. Why?” 

“You work approximately 12 hour shifts, yet none of us have seen you eat.”

“I don’t like to eat where I work, it’s no big deal.” The exterior you were really trying to keep up was slowly cracking under his sincere concern. He just had to be so damn nice.

“We could probably schedule in a short break for you, if you have too much work to stop.” He was coming up with a solid solution to a problem you didn’t have. But it was nevertheless appreciated. 

“No, it’s ok. It’s not that– I just don’t really like to eat in front of or like– around other people.”

“Why?” You should have known an ambiguous answer wouldn’t make this end any faster, if anything now he was intrigued.

“Just makes me nervous, I guess.”

“Do we make you uncomfortable?” He shuffled around a little, burying his hands in his pockets as he tried to maintain eye contact. The idea of that made him clearly upset, and you were quick to correct him. 

“No! It’s nothing like that, I just–I don’t know, it’s weird. But would you mind–not telling the other guys about this?”You really just wanted this conversation to end, fade into the obscurity of your memory, hopefully soon forgotten. 

“Are you sure?” He looked down his glasses at you, putting ever so slight pressure on you to make sure he got an honest answer. 

“Yes. It’ll be our little secret?” 

“Alright. But I would like to talk about this further.” You were saved by the bell as the phone on your desk started ringing. You leaned over to the phone before looking back to him. 

“Go eat your lunch, I have to take this.” 

While he may have agreed to leave the subject alone, not wanting to draw further attention to your discomfort, he had his own way of trying to help. He’d buy extra snacks and put some in your bag, even bringing sodas to put in your desk drawers so you’d get sugar throughout the day. You appreciated his extra care. So many people characterized him as distant, and far too logical, but he really did care for everyone in his life.

[notafragilething]

911: Tommy is mentioned in the synopsis and why I think it's important.

I was going to save this for the update to my ramble tonight but I decided this deserved it's own post because I think this might be another sign Tommy's sticking around / is a bigger part of the next episode then we think? If you haven't seen the synopsis for next week's episode please check it out:

The 118 and Tommy are presented with the Medal of Valor for their work on the cruise ship rescue. Meanwhile, Hen and Karen encounter an unforeseen hurdle in their foster care journey, while Eddie’s emotional affair develops further.

So I immediately noticed Tommy was listed, which isn't new information (we saw him in the promo), but something immediately screamed "this seems important that he's named." And I couldn't figure out why.

Because obviously Tommy's been listed in these before, right?

Wrong.

I went back and looked at all of this season's episode synopsis and looked at who was listed by name in them. I made main cast bold, re-occurring regulars like family and love interests italics and everyone else normal.

Abandon 'Ships: Athena, Bobby

Rock the Boat: Bobby, Athena, Hen

Capsized: Athena, Bobby, Hen

Buck Bothered and Bewildered: Athena, Harry, Buck, Eddie

You Don't Know Me: Hen, Karen, Eddie, Marisol, Buck

There Goes the Groom: Maddie, Chimney

Ghosts of a Second Chance: Maddie, Athena, Hen, Karen, Mara, Eddie

Step Nine: Bobby

Ashes, Ashes: Tommy, Hen, Karen, Eddie

Out of the many names listed, there are only two other characters who aren't part of the main/re-occurring cast that got listed. Most of the time they were vague and descriptive if another character was featured.

Such as referring to Tommy as "someone else," Mara being referred to as "a new addition to the family," and Amir as "a victim of the apartment fire."

So let's look at those two other names and the roles they played in their respective episodes.

We have Marisol getting her name in the summary for episode 5: You Don't Know Me. She doesn't necessarily appear a ton in this episode but is pretty significant in the plot since Eddie's storyline revolves around finding out she was a nun and how the impacts him. She was in 3 scenes and talked about in multiple others.

Mara was named in Ghost of a Second Chance, which was her second appearance. This episode had Karen and Hen's storyline focused pretty heavily on her and reuniting her with her brother.

So the fact they name dropped Tommy? Would only happen for one of two reasons.

He's going to be in multiple scenes this week or important to the plot.

They know people want to see him and are listing him to pull in viewers.

Both are fairly good signs for people who want him to stick around.

I also want to point out that Marisol, Mara and Tommy all have something in common. They're three characters that have the potential to move into a more re-occurring longterm role in the series next season.

Mara has the potential to become family (assuming they get over whatever hurdle is happening next week) which would put her in the same category as the other children in the show.

Marisol and Tommy both have the potential to be re-occurring role as a longterm love interest like Karen.

I was convinced Marisol was going to be gone but the fact that they are referring to this as an emotional affair and Ryan has made comments about how Eddie could see himself long term with her and loves her? I could see it going either way on whether or not they keep her since they might try to make the case he didn't physically cheat on her (even though I really hope she's gone soon simply because of the actress).

Thoughts?

[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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[selencgraphy]

— 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: and i’m just an arrogant son of a bitch (who can’t admit when he’s sorry)

PAIRING: jake seresin x f!original character

TAGS: bradley bradshaw pov (not necessarily a warning just an fyi), cursing, angst, not 100% proofread (so don't kill me for grammatical errors pls)

A/N: WE ARE SO BACKK!! ok so preface, this part is entirely from bradley’s pov. i touched on it briefly in the original working of this fic and i felt like i could've fleshed it out a lot more so here we are. there's also some choices that i make that i hope some of you catch ;) there’s some big changes from the og direction this story was going bc i just didn't like it but anyways, i really hope you like it! lmk your thoughts <3

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Don’t take for granted the love this life gives you. - Tim McGraw

In the 12 years Bradley Bradshaw has known Hangman, they’ve never gotten along. It was a known fact amongst almost every naval aviator around their age. So it didn’t come as a surprise that they continued to butt heads during their return to Top Gun. The light jabs at his ego and that stupid cheeky smirk that seemed to be permanently plastered across Hangman’s face were expected. Unsurprisingly enough, those expectations were fulfilled quite quickly when Bradley set foot back into the Hard Deck. What did come as a surprise, however, was how much one person could change everything.

Admittedly, he assumed Jessie ‘Dice’ Rosales would mirror Hangman at the revelation that she was his best friend—yet another pain in the ass he’d have to deal with. Having been practically attached to the hip with Hangman since she arrived, she was the last person he expected to come looking for him after his incident with Maverick. She didn’t know him, yet she was the only person besides Natasha to check in on him. How could a person so caring as her be so close to someone who seem to care less? There it was again. Assumptions and expectations.

“I know who he is to you. Who Maverick is to you.” At that, Bradley’s eyebrows furrowed, and for the first time since she had come to check in on him, he finally really looked at her. She was sat across from him in the same position—her knees pulled slightly to her chest, arms resting on top of them with her hands clasped—but now in her civilian clothes, hair down and slightly damp. “How?”

She scoffed. “S’not a hard connection to make when he’s standing next to someone that looks just like you also named Bradshaw in the class of ’86 photo in the rec room. Only a matter of time before someone else takes a good look at that old picture and puts two and two together.” He hummed. He’d forgotten it was there. Since he saw it for the first time when he went through Top Gun himself a few years ago, he’d avoided that part of the rec room like the plague. When he didn’t speak, she continued. “What doesn’t make sense to me though is the bad blood…” Just as he was quick to dismiss her, Jessie was even quicker to cut him off so she could finish. “I didn’t want to push because that’s your own business, but I won’t let you do reckless shit because of it. I know you don’t like Jake—and me by extension—but this is gonna be a team. A team that’s about to be sent out on what seems like a suicide mission. So get your head in the fucking game, Bradshaw.”

—

It was awkward trying to do a team bonding exercise the following day after his and Hangman’s altercation. “Dog fight football,” Maverick called it which seemed like a horrible concept upon introduction. But then he found himself holding Bob on his shoulders an hour or so later, the brightest smile on his face. By the time they finished, the Hard Deck was open for business, most of them making their way over to the bar. Just as he was making his way over, a voice called over from by the water. “Bradshaw!”

He wasn’t sure why he stopped in his tracks. Bradley knew who it was. Why he decided he’d give Hangman more of his time just so the other could boast he couldn’t tell you. “What d’you want, Hangman?”

The annoyance in Bradley’s voice was sharp and heavy, something that came automatically after years of dealing with him. It didn’t take him long to catch up to Bradley. He waited for a snarky remark about his football skills. Honestly, he expected everything else besides the words that actually came out of the other man’s mouth. “I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Look, I know we’ve never been friendly but what I said yesterday was beyond fucked up. If I could take it back, I would. I’m sorry.” It’s as if the man who stood before him was another person who wore Hangman’s face. Bradley was so taken aback, all he did was stare at him. Considering how long he’d known Hangman, the words I’m sorry didn’t seem to be in his vocabulary. Before he could figure out what to say, Hangman continued. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just- I’m really sorry.”

“Jake!” The voice caused both of them to look over at the owner of the voice. There stood Jessie, two beers in hand. “Yeah?” Hangman replied back.

“Beers getting warm!” At that, Hangman gave Bradley a pat on the shoulder and wistful smile before jogging over to where Jessie stood. It was just two words. Two normal words that he’s heard countless times throughout his life. After each of his parent’s deaths. After someone accidentally bumps into him. Yet those very two words seem to completely changed his entire opinion on the man he thought he had all figured out. Bradley watched as Hangman threw an arm around her as she handed him his bottle. It was like deja vu to a memory from his youth he only vaguely remembered. Not that he was old enough to actually remember much about his father but the amount of stories recounted after his passing, at some point it began to feel like he could, but they were always blurry images just out of reach. Is this how Maverick feels when he looks at him?

—

With each training session and the mission date growing ever so closer, it felt as if the mission was impossible. Each failure felt more brutal than the last. Then their timeline shrunk. The stress of the job took away from their socialization, nights now ending with faces falling flat on pillows immediately after work more often than not. When the news of Admiral Kazansky’s passing reached Bradley, he was in the middle of a heated argument with Maverick. Besides Maverick and his mother, Iceman was always there. Uncle Ice he used to call him.

As nice as the city of San Diego was, Bradley couldn't help the sliver of hatred he held for it. It’s beauty, unfortunately, tainted by loss to which he now had to add yet another person to the list. His dad. His mom. Now Uncle Ice. Bradley planned on seeing him while he was out here at one point. His mom kept telling him to not take things, especially things that he loved, for granted. Why didn’t he listen?

In a flash, it was time for them to head out. To Admiral Simpson’s dismay, Maverick was appointed team leader after his little stunt after having basically been fired.  That left him the choices of two foxtrot teams and one wingman. “Payback and Fanboy. Phoenix and Bob.”

Breaths that were held by foxtrot squads were released, some of relief and some of disappointment. All that was left was who Maverick wanted as his wingman. There were only a few left to pick. Rooster. Hangman. Dice. Omaha. Coyote. The tension in the air as they waited for Maverick was choking them. In those few seconds, Bradley ran through the chances he'd be chosen, pulling from both professional and personal reasoning. Their personal issues kept outweighing everything else in his mind. “Rooster.”

The color drained out of his face. His body shook as he took in a sharp breath. Even being so stuck in his head, he noticed how Hangman's body shook and then immediately tensed when Mav announced his name instead of his. When they were dismissed, it was as if someone had flipped the autopilot switch. If you had looked at him for longer than a second, you could see the absence in his eyes. It was a given that he’d be nervous. This mission could kill him. Maybe Hangman was right. He flew comfortably. He was good, but he took the easy road and nothing about this mission was easy.

A gentle hand pulled him from his thoughts. The words she spoke were as if she had read his mind. “You got this. Maverick chose you for a reason. Just fly.”

The deck was crowded, everyone preparing the Daggers for takeoff. Hangman walked in his path, his jaw clenched. Since that night a few weeks ago, he couldn't read him anymore. The small glimpse at genuineness shattered his whole perspective on the man. The change was subtle but immense. Micro expressions he used to gloss over seemed to be the only things he noticed now. Judgment that once was clouded by anger and annoyance morphed into understanding. “You give ‘em hell,” he yelled over the roaring engines of their jets. Then he was gone. Maybe if he got out of this alive, he'd give Jake Seresin a chance.

—

It was a rare sight to see the two rivaling pilots smiling at each other, let alone shaking each other’s hands. Jake Seresin just saved his and Mav’s life—it was the least he could do. “Chalked yourself another kill,” Bradley remarked with a smile.

“That makes two.” Natasha pointed out as she shook her head, a similar grin on her own face. “Mav has five—makes him an ace.” Bradley turned back to look at Jake and shrugged. He and Jake shared a mutual pat on the shoulder and nod of respect before going their separate ways.

Soon enough, they were all back on solid ground and celebrating at the Hard Deck. After playing a few songs on the piano and a few rounds of pool, he stepped outside to get some fresh air. The combination of Iceman’s death and Bradley’s own near-death experience gave him a sense of clarity. Choices that he made in his life he wished he should and shouldn’t have made. People that he’s pushed away. People that he’s kept an arm’s length away. Childish grudges. Despite being only 38 years old, Bradley Bradshaw was a man of many regrets. But that wasn’t what he sat in on the beach thinking about. He spent the entire trip back home reflecting on that. No, he was thinking about the two people that reminded him of his parents just a week ago. So many people over the years have told Bradley that he reminds them of his father, a statement he never quite believed. Sure, he looked like his old man with the Hawaiian button downs and mustache, but that was where the resemblance ended. Nick and Carole Bradshaw seemed to be a rarity in the world. Then he met Jessie Rosales and saw the way she and Jake Seresin looked at each other. The glances when the other wasn’t looking that lasted longer than they should have, but it was never his business. He had just met Jessie, and Jake wasn’t his friend. He still wasn’t—at least not yet—but she was now. A good one at that. Now with the regret of not getting the chance to truly reconcile with Maverick having plagued his mind just mere days ago, he couldn’t help projecting those feelings onto them. Bradley had taken so many things for granted in his life, a mistake he’ll spend the rest of his life making up for. It’s not like he’s playing matchmaker, he just wanted to give them a little push.

So when familiar footsteps crunched across the sand behind him, he made up his mind. She took a seat next to him in the sand. “Alright, Bradshaw?”

He hummed and took a sip of the beer he’d been nursing since he sat outside. “Just watching the sun set.” Nodding her head, she pulled her knees up against her chest, rested her chin on top of them and looked out to the water. He appreciated how understanding she was during moments like this. There wasn’t a need to check up on him nor was there a need for her to stay here and sit in silence with him yet here she was. That contrast between her and her best friend bewildered him at first but the idea that they were polar opposites seemed to fade the more time he spent around them. “Tell me about you and Hang- Jake. You and Jake.”

She smiled at the question. “Well,” she started. “What do you wanna know?”

What did he want to know? “How long have you been in love with him?” At that, she almost spit out her drink from the shock at the question Bradley posed. “Wh-what?”

“Do I really need to repeat myself, Dice?”

She looked back to the Hard Deck and at the man in question through the window as he played pool before she turned and shook her head. “S’not like that, Rooster.”

Bradley let out a huff at her denial. “He’s in love with you too, ya know.”

“No, he’s not.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’ve known each other for over twenty years!” Her voice quickly raised in frustration at Bradley’s insistence before returning to her usual calm demeanor. “We’ve known each other since we were kids, Bradley. I can’t even remember what my life was like before I met him. If he was in love with me, he would have said something by now. I’d rather have him as a friend than not at all.” 

Bradley let out a sigh and paused for a moment to figure out how to continue the conversation. As they sat in silence, both of them turned to watch the sun set. Just as the star appeared to hit the horizon did Bradley speak again. “Mav used to love telling me stories about my dad after he died. How he basically begged my mom to give him a chance. How the look in his eyes when his gaze was set on her was always the same—a look of love and adoration. I didn’t believe him ’til I looked at the polaroids Mav used to sneak of them when they weren’t looking. For years, I thought that I was never gonna find two people that looked at each other like that—loved each other as much as they did. That is until I saw you and him.” 

“Brad…”

He quickly cut her off, speaking without abandon so all she could do was listen to him. “He loves you, Jess. Why he hasn’t said anything is beyond me. It’s so unbearably obvious that you both are in love with each other even if you don’t see it yourself. What I’ve learned these past few days is that you can’t take things for granted, especially things—people that you love. I know what it feels like to regret not holding onto and cherishing the time I had with people who cared for me. I don’t want you make that same mistake.” When he finished and he looked back at her, it was hard to tell how she felt about his tangent with the way her eyebrows furrowed. He hasn’t known her long enough to know if this specific crease in her forehead came from anger, shock, or sadness. Maybe it was all of the above?

“I don’t wanna lose him,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“You won’t,” he reassured without hesitation. For the decade that Bradley has known Hangman, he was so sure of himself that he understood who the other man was. He was the one who created that stupid story behind his callsign that everyone but Jake retells after all. But in the month he’s been around him and Jess, that philosophy was flipped on it’s head. Jake Seresin wasn’t the douchebag he thought he was. 

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