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miraclesabound · 2 years ago

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The Beginning of the End

Summary: After their family has a narrow escape from a Martian invasion, Frankie does his best to give his wife Rose some kind of Christmas. Based on HG Wells’ War of the Worlds. Angst/Action/Sci-fi with an ultimately happy ending.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x OFC Rose Morales

My Secret Santa gift for the wonderful @autumnleaves1991-blog! Thanks also to @pedrostories for hosting this event, and to @oonajaeadira who beta’d the opening scene.

Notes: This is technically a spin-off from my Max Phillips and Charli Moore stories, though set many years later. Rose, Charli’s cousin, has now been married to Frankie for about nine years. Frankie’s cousin, Maxwell Lorenzano, has gotten his shit together and has restored his relationship with the family.

Warnings/Content: Aftermath of invasion, children being sick and in peril, attempted kidnapping of a minor, short gun battle, family separation. Discussions of hunting and food preparation, sex after a dry spell, slight praise kink, fingering, unprotected PIV sex, guilt spiral.

October 1st

“How much further, Mama?” Lily Morales asked through her coughs – they’d been troubling her for the last two days. She was curled up against her mother Rose in the back seat of a parked van. Her dad Frankie and his cousin, her Uncle Maxwell, were taking a second to stretch their legs before swapping driving duties. Maxwell’s son Alistair, perhaps the most respectful teenager Rose had known, was sitting in the middle seat next to Lily’s little sister Josie, doing his best to keep the three-year-old entertained.

“I don’t know, honey,” Rose admitted, hugging her eight-year-old a little tighter. “I do know that your daddy said this is our last rest stop before meeting up with the others.”

Rose sympathized with Lily’s exhaustion. The Martian invasion had caught the East Coast entirely by surprise two weeks ago and had swept across the country. It was only because Maxwell had a contact out here in the Rockies that the Morales and Lorenzano clans had been able to make a run for it. Thankfully, Charli and Max had already been away in Romania celebrating their anniversary with Max’s old coven, and Santi and the Millers were accounted for.

However, what should have been a manageable drive, about 40 hours or so, had ended up being closer to ten days. The main highways were damaged, and other groups they had run into had said that Martian patrols were popping up without warning. Everyone’s nerves were shot, especially when Lily’s cold had started to get bad.

Frankie settled into the driver’s seat and looked over his shoulder. “Ok, gang, we’ve got 50 more miles if we keep to the back way, and then we’ll be there. Be ready to grab your bags and go as soon as we pull up, Uncle Maxwell’s friend is waiting for us.” Rose could feel Lily’s shoulders ease with having a bit more knowledge.

When they pulled into the parking lot of an abandoned ranger station two hours later, they saw the convoy setting up to go into the mountains. There looked to be about five or six adults, each tending to a gaggle of at least seven children. One man, clearly the leader, looked over and waved them in. Maxwell got out of the van first, greeting the man with a warm handshake. When everyone was assembled and had their bags unpacked, he introduced the gentleman as Din Djarin.

Din’s demeanor was respectful, but as he took a headcount, Rose could see his mouth tighten. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“It’s six of you?”

“Yes…”

“Shit.” Rose felt her heart sink when she heard Din curse. “I think we only have room for four.”

Frankie looked like he wanted to punch Din in the nose. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Din said. “We’ll draw too much attention if you take your van too, and I don’t want to put anyone in one of our cars if they won’t have a seatbelt.”

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” Frankie said. “If you really think we’re going to –”

“Cuz, shut up a second,” Maxwell hissed. “Something’s wrong…” He was right – a realization rippled through the adults in the group that it was entirely too quiet around them. Even the children from the convoy had hushed, each of them clinging to their designated parent.

Din kept his voice as even as possible. “If any of you can shoot, get a gun from the lead vehicle – NOW.”

Suddenly, a horrible noise tore the air apart – the only way to describe it was that it was the same sound a lightning bolt would make if it was being strangled. A small Martian ship burst through the trees, and the frequency echoed again, making everyone clutch at their heads.

Frankie was the first to break out of the trance. He ran to the weapons cache and started searching desperately for a small caliber gun. Maxwell grabbed Josie and Alistair, and Rose pulled Lily to her side. Above them, the hull of the ship opened. A lone Martian soldier dropped out, landing on his feet – his ship’s whine was now a low hum.

Now that she could focus, Rose could see that this creature was more human than she’d imagined. He had gray skin and wore a breathing mask, but his build was almost like Frankie’s. Maybe he could be reasoned with? “Hey, if you can understand me,” she started, “you don’t have to report this, I –”

In the blink of an eye, the creature was in front of her and pulling Lily out of her arms. “What the fuck are you doing?!” Rose screamed. “Give me back my daughter!”

Instead of answering her, the creature punched Rose hard enough in the stomach to make her hit the ground. Lily screamed in fury, and she yanked her captor’s mask off, kicking and scratching wherever she could reach. It hadn’t occurred to the alien that his captive might fight back, and when Lily landed a particularly nasty gash across his eye, he dropped her to attempt to cover the wound.

Lily was crawling to Rose’s side when gunshots rang out, and she heard what sounded like the Martian ship crashing behind her in the trees. She didn’t dare look back, instead turning her gaze to the vehicle lane. In the late afternoon light, she could just make out her dad’s silhouette holding a pistol.

“Stay put, mija, we’re coming to you.” Frankie signaled with his head, and Din followed him. They crossed the lot quickly and helped Rose and Lily back to the rest of the family.

Once everyone was back together, Din said, “We need to get going right now – his squadron will be coming to collect his body.” Lily started coughing again from the exertion she’d just been through, and Frankie patted her shoulder. “Have you come to a decision?” Din asked.

“Frankie and I will stay back,” Rose said, having finally been able to breathe evenly again. “Lily and Josie need to be somewhere safe.” She felt her daughters tense up next to her, and before they could protest, she looked at Lily. “Honey, can you keep being brave? Uncle Maxwell and Alistair will be there to help you and your sister.” Lily looked like she wanted to cry, but she nodded.

“The San Juan culvert is a fortress,” Din promised. “We’ll look after the girls and make sure Lily can rest from her cold. I wouldn’t bring them with us if it wasn’t somewhere I would house my own kid.” He passed Frankie a piece of paper. “This has directions to my parents’ cabin over in Creede. I was there just before the invasion, there’s a generator, plenty of food, and good hunting. It’s yours for as long as you need it – and it has radio contact with the culvert. We have better comms up there; we’ll reach out when we have news.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Frankie said. He and Rose grabbed the girls’ packs and got them settled in as quickly as possible with the other children. The goodbyes were brief but sincere – within ten minutes, the parking lot was empty except for the wreckage of the Martian scout and the remains of his ship.

Christmas Day

Rose gasped as her eyes flew open. For a moment, she forgot where she was, her nightmare still clouding her mind. Hearing Frankie breathing next to her began to ground her, and as she looked around the Djarin cabin, she could feel her heart-rate slow.

“You ok, honey?” Frankie mumbled.

Rose winced – she’d hoped not to disturb him. “Yeah, I’m ok. Just that same nightmare again…”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Frankie said, his voice now more alert as he pulled Rose into him arms. Every night for the last two months since they’d come to the cabin, Rose had dreamed that the Martian soldier was successful and had taken both Lily and Josie away.

“What time is it?” Rose asked, her face half-buried in Frankie’s chest.

Frankie lifted his head, looking at the clock on the wall in the dim morning light. “Hm…about 7:30?”

Rose groaned. “Ugh…can we just not move for a bit?”

Frankie smiled and kissed her hairline. “It’s tempting, but you told me not to let you sleep in this morning. Had to go out hunting, right?”

Rose grumbled, but she let Frankie pull her out of bed so she could get dressed. After a quick breakfast, she got geared up and was out the door.

Frankie made sure Rose was beyond the treeline, and then he went out to the shed to start working. There was a lot to do before she got home.

As much as she had grumbled about going out early, Rose felt invigorated as she returned to the cabin around noon. The three pheasants she’d bagged and dressed hung heavy in her satchel, and there was a pleasant ache in her feet from being out and about. “I’m back!” she called out as she came through the door. “What are the chances of having a hot…shower?”

The scene in front of her made Rose trip over her words. The living room of the cabin had been empty when she left. Now, a seven-foot-high artificial Christmas tree, strung with lights and trimmings, stood in the center, and the fireplace was alight. Wonderful smells were floating from the kitchen. Frankie came downstairs from their bedroom, wearing his cleanest shirt.

“I can absolutely get a shower started,” he told her, helping her out of her gear and taking her satchel from her. “But would you be willing to wait until you look at the tree a little more?” Rose nodded, and Frankie quickly packed the pheasants away. He and Rose washed their hands and returned to the living room. Frankie kissed Rose’s cheek. “Merry Christmas, honey.”

“You know what’s awful?” Rose said. “Until I walked in here and saw the tree – I’d completely forgotten today was Christmas. Where did you even find this stuff?”

“The back of the shed,” he told her. “I saw the boxes about three weeks ago, and I figured Din wouldn’t mind us using his parents’ trimmings.” He’d been smiling, but here his expression turned slightly somber. “Do you like it? I know there aren’t any presents under the tree.”

Rose took Frankie’s hand and kissed the palm, getting the barest taste of soap on her tongue. “Baby, this is the present, I know that.”

Frankie saw a sparkle begin to develop in her eyes, one he hadn’t seen in months. “You know,” he said, “the beef roast is going to take at least another two hours to finish in the oven…” He grabbed the quilt off the back of the couch, laying it out on floor next to the tree and sitting on it. “Care to join me?”

Rose sat down carefully, still feeling the ache of the morning. However, any other delicacy flew out the window as she grabbed Frankie on both sides of his face, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Frankie grunted in slight surprise, but he reciprocated, wrapping one of his hands around the back of Rose’s neck to keep her still. After several seconds, they broke apart, both breathing heavily. Frankie could see the sparkle in Rose’s eyes turning into a lustful flame.

“Are you going to be ok for this?” he asked. “I know it’s been a while.” This was true – he and Rose had made love the first night they got to the cabin, and another time about two weeks after that. However, winter preparations had been dominating their days lately.

Rose smiled, her heart warmed by his concern. “We had to wait longer than this after Josie was born. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Her voice was now pleading. “Frankie, I need you to touch me.”

“I will,” Frankie said. “Let’s get comfortable, yeah?”

They undressed each other slowly, basking in the warmth of the fire. Rose was the first one fully naked, and Frankie took the chance to properly caress her skin for the first time in weeks, reacquainting himself with her frame.

He started with her shoulders, wincing in sympathy when he felt how tight they were. He’d been on hunting duty last week, and he knew how much work it was to haul the gear and field-clean the catch. He pressed gently with his fingers, and his own shoulders loosened when he heard Rose groan in satisfaction.

Now that he knew she was less stiff, Frankie grabbed a few pillows from the couch and had Rose lie back on one of them, dragging his fingers down her side. She pulled him in for another brief kiss, and she moaned when he began to stroke her leg.

“Firelight looks good on you, honey,” Frankie said. “I don’t know how I never noticed before.”

Rose pushed one of his curls out of his face. “I was thinking the same thing – but we’ve also never made love in front of a lit fireplace.”

“Then we’re just going to have to fix that, aren’t we?”

“I suppose so-OH!” Rose’s little retort died in her throat as Frankie snuck his fingers between her legs. “Oh fuck, baby, that feels really good…”

“I’m glad – God, you’re so wet already.” He leaned down to give her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. His own cock was half-hard, and he was glad to already be down to his boxers. “We need to get you open, mi rosa – want you to bloom for me.”

Rose caught his meaning, and she did her best to slow her breathing. When she could concentrate, she felt herself relax, and Frankie easily slipped two fingers inside of her.

“Atta girl,” Frankie said encouragingly. “Let’s see how this goes…” He worked his fingers carefully but firmly, and he was pleased to see Rose starting to lift her hips on her own to chase after her pleasure. “You’re so good for me, honey – think you can take one more?”

“Uh-huh…” Rose’s affirmation turned into a shriek as Frankie added another finger and began stroking her clit. She could tell she was starting to climb – it had been long enough that she was more responsive than usual.

Frankie could tell the same, and his erection was now full. He used his free hand to get his boxers off, and he asked, “Do you want me to make you come this way first?”

Rose huffed and pulled him to her, digging her fingers into his bare ass. “Francisco Morales, let me spell it out for you – I need you inside me immediately.

“Yes ma’am.” Frankie hitched one of Rose’s legs around his hip, and slowly pushed his cock inside her.

The preparation had proven essential – Frankie could feel how tightly he was being squeezed, and he had to remind Rose a few times to keep breathing evenly. When he was seated all the way, he leaned down to touch their foreheads together. “Still ok?”

“Still ok,” Rose promised. Keeping his face close to hers, Frankie began rolling his hips. The movement was deliberate, not frenzied, and he smiled in satisfaction when he found the spot that made her grab at his arms. Rose wasn’t usually one to be extra loud in bed, but with how keyed up she was, every other noise out of her mouth seemed to be an obscene moan. The noises became even more pronounced when Frankie put the heel of his hand against her clit for her to rub against.

They continued in that way for several minutes, and it was Frankie who noticed the shift in Rose’s hips. “Honey, are you already close?” he asked in surprise.

“Uh-huh,” Rose said in a breathy voice, finally cracking her own smile. “That’s what happens when it’s been several weeks without sex and your husband knows how to take care of you.”

“Then let me actually take care, yeah?” Frankie moved Rose’s leg up onto his shoulder and began to thrust at a more vigorous pace. “My sweet, beautiful, strong wife needs to come hard.”

“Fuck, Frankie, don’t stop! Don’t stop don’t stop don’t – aaaaAAAH!” Rose’s orgasm pulled a scream from her throat, and Frankie took the chance to kiss her again.

He was close himself, and began to pull out, but Rose wrapped her legs around his waist. “Please,” she begged, even as the aftershocks were stealing her breath, “Please, I want you to come inside…” Well, what kind of monster would deny his wife that? Frankie cupped her cheek and finished his last few thrusts, feeling himself empty inside Rose’s pussy.

His arms were starting to shake from holding himself up, and Rose sat up so that she could help steady him. “To repeat what you asked me earlier – are you still ok?”

Frankie nodded. “I am – love you.”

“Love you too.” Rose’s legs were still a bit tender, so she used the couch to pull herself up. “I definitely need that shower I mentioned earlier – will you be joining me?”

Frankie had absolutely outdone himself with the Christmas meal. The roast was a perfect temperature, and besides making mashed potatoes and beans, Frankie had made his first Yorkshire puddings using the beef drippings. Rose’s belly and heart were full – which was why she surprised herself when she started crying while putting her plate away.

Frankie looked panicked as he pulled her into his arms. “Rosita, what’s wrong?” He wanted to make a joke about not thinking the puddings were that bad, but he could tell it wasn’t the time.

“I….feel guilty…” Rose admitted. “Here we are, getting to gad about for Christmas like we’re newlyweds – but what about the girls? What if they didn’t get to have any celebrations? What if we haven’t heard from them because…oh fuck…” Her sobs became heavier, and Frankie rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“I worry too,” he admitted. “I worry about all of it – are the girls safe, are they happy, are Maxwell and Alistair ok…it’s on my mind all the time – but so are you.” He tilted Rose’s chin up. “You don’t stop being my wife just because I miss Lily and Josie, and I wanted you to feel special, at least for today. Besides, I get the impression that Din could pull a Christmas party out of a magician’s hat if it would keep the culvert kids happy.”

Rose smiled at that mental image, but Frankie could see her eyes were still watery, so they just stood there in quiet for a few more minutes.

Boxing Day

Crying must have been exactly what Rose needed, because the rest of Christmas evening was calm, and when she woke up the next day, she realized she hadn’t had her nightmare. Frankie’s side of the bed was empty, but still warm, and she heard him moving around downstairs.

Rose took her time getting dressed, and kissed Frankie’s cheek when she came down into the kitchen. “Morning, handsome.”

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Frankie said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Ok if we just stick to leftovers? I think I cooked myself out yesterday.”

Rose laughed, her eye drawn to the pot of coffee brewing on the counter. “Sounds perfect – wait…what is that sound?” A faint crackling noise was coming from the back room.

Frankie’s eyes widened, and he bolted into the back, finding that the radio was active. Rose’s realization was close behind, and she scrambled into the chair next to his so that she could listen in. It took some adjustments, but soon, Din’s voice was coming through loud and clear.

“This is San Juan hailing Creede Lookout, can you hear us?”

Frankie could see the desperation in Rose’s eyes, and he pushed the microphone over to her. She gave him a quick hug and then picked up the line.

“Creede Lookout responding – Din, please, where are the girls?”

“They’re right here,” Din said. Rose heard a slight shuffle – and then Lily’s voice rang out. At that moment, it was the most beautiful sound in Rose’s world.

“Hi mama! We’re all here, me, Josie and Alistair and Uncle Maxwell!”

“I’m so glad, sweetie – you sound much better! Did you all get to have some Christmas?”

The conversation continued that way for a few minutes, and Din politely asked for the mic back, telling the girls they could go play. “I need to tell you the other reason for the call – the war’s over.”

Frankie and Rose stared at each other and at the microphone again, neither of them able to make a sound. There was no way Din had just said that, right?

“Creede Lookout, can you hear me?”

It was Frankie who returned to himself first. “Yeah, San Juan, we’re here – what do you mean, over?”

“I mean that the Martians are on the run,” Din said. “A microbial infection ravaged their army – the rest are either being picked off by Earthling forces or are escaping off world.”

“Infection?” Rose asked. “What kind?”

“Viral – and the scientists have been able to trace the source. Guys…” Din’s voice sounded like he didn’t believe it himself. “The vector was that scout who attacked us on the day of the rendezvous. I …honestly think that when she fought back against him, Lily won the war for Earth.”

Both Rose and Frankie felt pride, but also uncertainty. “What happens now?” Frankie asked.

“That depends on you two,” Din said. “Do you want to come here, or shall we bring the rest of the family to you?”

#frankie morales x ofc #pedrostories #pedrostoriesgift22 #war of the worlds au

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commie-ghost · 2 years ago

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I was tagged by @shroomoth :D

Rules: Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with.

Last song: Led Zeppelin - That's the Way

3 ships: knifecrow (Dishonored), soapghost (COD:MW), burakhovsky (Pathologic)

Currently reading: just too much fanfiction honestly

Last movie: yikes idk man dont watch that many movies… maybe the last I really sat down and WATCHED was Prospect (2018) but i think i had the original X-Men Trilogy as background noise recently ??? idk man idk

Craving: some food that i know i dont have in the house

I’m tagging: @max--phillips @deeeanspeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenis @kaijuborn @potato--queen @a-cosmicmess @crabbarts @sweetsilver-sea @comrade01100010 @sadbooknerd no pressure ofc

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galaxyedging · 2 years ago

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I finished the amazing Fair Trade by @misspearly1. Then woke up at like 3am with this on my mind.

Max Phillips x ofc (no name or description)

Warnings: vampire stuff, a little angst, swearing.

More Than a Fair Trade

The room was dimly lit, the light of the crescent moon through the open window and the glow from the unwatched TV in the corner barely illuminated her. Even in the dark nobody could miss how beautiful she was, or so Max believed. He couldn't believe his luck when he first laid eyes on her. On top of being highly educated, the top of her department in sale, she was drop dead gorgeous! The perfect addition to his team.

Max had followed her home to make the whole 'transition' easier, out of the way of nosy Evan, or so he told himself. The truth was Max was curious, he wanted to see who she was, how she lived. He wanted more than their early morning chats could tell him.

For the last hour he'd peered through her windows. There was no sign of a boyfriend, or a girlfriend. No pets. Thankfully, no kids. No, she lived alone. From his spot in the tree outside her bedroom, he saw her switch off the TV and take out her phone. The tiny screen highlighted her delicate features, those beautiful eyes, the ones that he always tried to catch over the walls of her cubicle seem to shimmer as she read something on her screen. A faint smile played on her lips, it made them look all the more inviting. The smile spread until it morphed into a grimace and tears flowed from her eyes. Her silent sobbing had Max moving with inhuman speed and agility, he was through her window into her room in seconds. As she moved to throw a lamp at him he caught her eye.

"Stop!" His voice seemed to echo eerily round the room. "Put it down, sit on the bed."

Panic rose in her as she had no choice but to obey him. As she sat on the bed Max came to sit down next to her. "Relax. Everything is fine, babe."

The tension left her body, she sat calmly next to him.

"What's got you all upset?" Max asked.

He could feel her fight against his power, he could tell it was something she wouldn't normally feel comfortable telling anyone.

"Hey. You can tell me." He stroked her jaw gently. He was surprised when she actually leaned into his hand of her own free will.

"I was reading a story. A love story. The characters were so happy together and I..." More tears flowed from her eyes, she screwed them shut. "...I'm so lonely. I work two jobs, spent all my free time looking after my aunt. I don't get time to meet anyone. I'm scared I'll never love again. That I'll die completely alone."

Max felt her resistance tapper off as the words flowed from her. Once she started, she wanted to tell someone. Wanted to tell him. This was perfect, she was unhappy in her life, one quick bite, her pain was done and he had a beautiful new partner. Business partner. He leaned closer, drawing her to him with a hand cupped on her jaw, ready to make her his. One of his team. She gave little resistance to his embrace. He tilted her head to expose her neck, her head ended up against his shoulder, her arms around his waist. His head then ended on top of hers. His arms around her, cradling her. Max lost track of how long they sat there. Of how long he listened to her steady heartbeat. Of how long he enjoy her warmth. Of how long he kept telling himself he would turn her in a minute. Eventually, he made himself leave, before he did, he made her forget everything.

It was the best night's sleep she'd had in a while, she felt so rested she even got to the office earlier than usual, to get a jump on her day. She might even get time after work to swing by the exhibition she wanted to see before visiting her aunt. She'd been too busy, staying behind and catching up with her data all week, to go. The spring in her step as she made her way to the copy room was halted by her boss, Max, coming over to greet her.

"Morning. I just wanted to say thanks for staying late this week to stay on top of things." He smiled at her, the genuine one that made her heart flutter. Unbeknown to her, Max hear it every time. It was only now he realised how endearing he found it.

"Thank you but I'm just doing my job." She blushed before squeezing passed his broad frame to carry on her way.

During lunch which, of course, she ate at her desk usually while working, Max saw her browsing the museum website. In between bites of her homemade sandwiches, she doodled hieroglyphs with her free hand.

Max had been a Egyptology geek as a kid so he recognised a few symbols. It took him back to the days he would pretend to he was an explorer in the sand box. It was the wave of nostalgia that carried him to the museum that night. Or so he told himself. At first, he watched her from afar. He watched the way her brow creased and her lips parted in thought. The way her face lit up when she saw something particularly eye catching. She was engrossed in reading all the information so Max felt bold enough to get closer to her. She almost caught him a couple of times. Max wasn't sure if she was fast or he was getting slow. Maybe he just liked the thrill of toying with her. Of almost getting caught. The last time she almost caught him, he lingered, waited until he could see her eyelashes flutter in her profile as she turned towards him. Any normal man would have been caught but Max slipped out of sight lightening fast.

Leaving the museum, she hummed contentedly. 'Perfect.' Max thought. She was happy, her blood would taste all the sweeter for it. Her last few moments of life would be happy ones. Not that it mattered to Max.

With the winter nights drawing in it was dark when she walked through an empty side street. All alone she hugged her plush, knee length coat around her tightly. Max stalked behind her, gaining on her just as she passed an alley. All he had to do was reach out to close the small gap. He could drag her into the dark of the secluded alley, turn her and be on his way. Wrapping his arm around her waist he lifted her easily. She screamed and thrashed as he held her close with his hand over her mouth. "Shhhh. Be quiet." He whispered in her ear. She complied but kept on fighting his grasp. Max's lips quirked up in a smile, it grew when she finally got into a position to land a solid punch on him. In the office she was generally quiet and polite. Some of the discussions between the guys obviously didn't sit well with her. Their school boy humour wasn't her thing. She never made a big thing of it, until it was something inappropriate, then she would very simply and eloquently put them in there place. Max had seen the fire burning under the surface when anyone had crossed her. She was ever the diplomat but if she needed to she would, very efficiently and professionally, rip them a new one. Max could only imagine what she would be like without having to restrain herself. Once he turned her, he could see for himself.

"Relax. Stay still." He urged.

When she went limp in his arms he tugged on her silky soft hair, exposing her sweet smelling neck to him. She always smelled so good. Like coconut and vanilla, and oddly, marshmallow? Her sweet scent always stayed with him. It lingered on him after their last encounter. He let his lips linger on her skin before he parted them to sink his fangs into her flesh. That's earned him a small sigh from her. She was enjoying his touch.

Max was a lot of things, an asshole and killer, he wasn't a creep. Touching her, even if she seemed to be enjoying it, in her current state was definitely creepy.

The museum had been fun. It'd been so long since she'd treated herself to some solid 'me time'. She was so happy she practically floated from the museum to the subway in a haze. Even her aunt noticed she was in a good mood, even if teh older woman didn't remember who she was. The good mood lasted until she got home. Until a text from her boss came through 'Take the day off tomorrow. We don’t need everyone in.' What the hell?! She couldn't afford to lose a day's pay! Since when was working an option? If they 'don't need everyone' why can't someone else stay home?

Max winced when her name came up on his screen. 'Be cool, just answer it.' he told himself.

"Max! What do you mean I'm not needed to work?!" He could hear the fire in her tone.

Max had never thought of himself as submissive yet he couldn't help think of how much he would enjoy her taking control of him.

"Relax, sweetheart. There's some maintenance work going on. You'll still get paid. I cleared it with management." He'd threatened to eat payroll, same thing.

"Oh. OK. Erm, thank you." She sounded charmingly confused. Max could imagine the cute little look on her face. "Well, have a good night, Max."

"Yeah, you too." He hung up.

Tomorrow was Friday so he had three whole days free of her to work out why he couldn't bite her. He'd had two perfect opportunities. Each time he just couldn't bring himself to take that bite. It was stupid. She was smart, sweet, likeable, beautiful, with a ruthless edge underneath it all. She would make the perfect partner. In business. Max thought about all the time they had spent together over the months. When they'd stayed late and it was just the two of them. Was there something she'd done to make him think that she wasn't worth turning and he'd forgotten while his subconscious had clung to it? They'd had lively debates about current affairs, pop culture. Turns out they had very similar tastes. Both of them agreed on the important stuff. Like Die Hard being a Christmas movie. She'd always treated him well, even when Evan told everyone about how he was in college.

Max couldn't think of a single time she had done anything to make him dislike her. Maybe if her talked about it with someone, it would help. This thing had started to affect his appetite. Which was making him feel ill. He felt sick when he'd tried to bite her earlier. Maybe it was all the store bought blood he'd been eating. He hadn't eaten fresh since her started at this office.

Management was keen for him to do his thing there. Max wanted to take his time to get to know them, he wasn't just going to give the gift to anyone. So far there was only one person he'd found worthy and he just couldn't seal the deal. Yeah, he definitely needed to talk to someone about it. Trouble was there was only one person he wanted to talk to about it.

That's how he ended up in her living room an hour later. She sat glamoured on the sofa as he looked over her things. Her shelves had a couple of Funko pops. The Mandalorian. Klaus from The Umbrella Academy. She played video games. GTA, Batman, The Last of Us. Most of The Witcher books sat on the shelf, only a couple looked like they had been read.

"You didn't like this one?" He tapped the second one, that looked half read with a bookmark stuck in it.

"I got busy. I didn't get time to read it." She answered him simply.

"With your aunt? Is that why you moved here?" He continued to scan her shelves. Jurassic Park DVD Collection. Nice.

"Yes. Her family don't speak to her, stupid family drama, she needed someone. I needed a change." She shrugged.

"A change?" He pushed.

"Bad break up." A mixture of anger and something else flared in him.

He guessed it was the something else that drove him to ask his next question. "Is that why you were crying over that story? You miss him?"

"No. Not one bit." The tightness in Max's chest eased at her words. A tightness that he didn't realise was there. He did begin to realise this was a really bad idea.

He'd given her the day off to get away from her. Erasing her memory again, he left as quickly as he could. His overpriced shoes stomping up the sidewalk to his car parked half a block away. Looking in the rear view mirror he caught the pout on his own face. He made the decision there and then to move up his timetable. He'd spent tomorrow making his final choices on who to turn, fuck with Evan a little then on Monday he'd turn who he needed.

Sitting at his desk the next day, he felt his concentration slipping it wandered to the desk out there. The one where she sat, empty. He couldn't hear the steady beat of her heart. Too lost in thought he moved on instinct. He found himself sitting at her desk and logging into her computer. Pulling up her search history he saw something that rang a bell, something she'd made reference to when she'd called herself a geek one time.

"Tumblr." He muttered to him as he clicked on it. Thankfully, she was still logged in. It took him a minute to get used to the dashboard but he found the story she'd been reading. Hearing footsteps and heartbeats return from lunch he sent the link to himself. Returning to his office he sat on the sofa. Opening up the link on his phone he began to read. It was a fanfiction.

He scoffed "Really?". Scrolling he half heartily scanned the words, for the first chapter. He laughed at himself when the impulse to read the next chapter hit him. Since the only other thing he had planned was a meeting with Evan he gleefully cancelled and settled down to read the next chapter. And the next. And the next. Only moving occasionally adjust himself in his pants at the more exciting parts. When he got to the ending he understood why she had cried. The characters found something beautiful in a an otherwise ugly place. He also understood why he couldn't bite her. He didn't want to end her life, he wanted to make it better. He wanted to make her happy, he wanted to see her smile and know he was the cause. Fuck, he come here for revenge and he'd managed to catch feelings.

That was the last straw. Monday. He'd turn her first, she was always in early to set up for the day. A quick staff meeting then he'd start turning the others. Done.

Monday rolled around, Max had gotten in even earlier. He stood by her desk waiting. When she got in, he'd grab her, rip the red scarf from her graceful neck, turn her and that would be that. He steeled himself as he saw her coming, he wouldn't be swayed by his feelings for her.

Maybe he would ask her if she wanted to be turned, if she did that would ensure that she'd be loyal to his vision. That made sense. He had a plan, he couldn't abandon it for a woman. Even if she did fill the void in his chest left when his heart stopped. He'd ask her then turn her or scare her away depending on her answer.

"Morning Max. What brings you to my desk?" The moved close to him to put down her things. Coconut, vanilla, marshmallows.

"I have a question..." he began. Those eyes of hers looked at him. She gave him her full attention. It made his room temperature body feel warm. "...would you let me take you out for coffee?"

Those eyes blinked owlishly at him. "I know you're busy but we could go at lunch." He added hoping to help her make her decision.

"Like..like a date?" Her voice was just about a whisper.

"Only if you want." His voice was not much louder.

"Yeah. I'd like that." She tried to reign in the smile on her face as it threatened to break it in two.

"Yeah?" Max's own smile was just as big.

"Yeah." She giggled. Max decided there and then it was his new favourite sound.

The next day, Max quit. Evan could kept his job, and his pathetic life. Max didn't get his revenge but he got something much better. To him it was more than a fair trade.

Tags @kirsteng42 @babydarkstar @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @graciexmarvel @kinda-nobody

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #max phillips #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips x ofc

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outercrasis · 3 years ago

Text

Bonded

Part 2

Pairing: Max Phillips x Named F!Reader/OFC (Prudence Walker)

Rating/Word Count: M (18+) / 6.2k

Warnings: alcohol, blood, general violence, knife violence, language (let me know if I missed any)

Summary: The situation with Evan and Max comes to a head and you're caught in the middle of it.

A/N: Big thank you to @escapades-to-rivendell for beta reading for me!

Previous ++ Series Masterlist ++ Next

You wake the next morning to someone tapping on your car window. Groggily, you try to open your eyes and return to the waking world. You lift your arm to block out the punishing sun and expect to find yourself face to face with a police officer. Despite making the responsible choice to not drive drunk they never seem thrilled to find you in the parking lot in the morning. Hopefully this one will just wake you and let you go about your day.

“Prudence! Are you okay in there?” To your surprise, it’s not a cop. It’s Evan. He sounds panicked, shifting anxiously from one foot to the other outside your passenger door.

Sitting up, you toss your pillow into the backseat and pop the car door open. “Get in.”

He hesitates for a moment before climbing in, staying quiet as you continue to wake up. His presence is unexpected and you’re more than a little annoyed that he didn’t stay at home like you told him to. It’s like he wants to get himself killed.

Evan looks around the old station wagon, giving it a similar expression to the one he wore while appraising your appearance last night. Once again you ignore the slight judgement, thinking of exactly how much money you might be able to charge him later. “Did you sleep here?”

You tilt the rearview mirror towards yourself, checking over your appearance. You wipe away the smeared mascara from under your eyes and try to fix up your hair while answering Evan. “Yes. Twenty eight people die from drunk driving every day, I’d like to not add to that number.”

He doesn’t address your concern for others welfare, instead asking another question. “What happened to your lip?”

“Huh?” You glance back into the mirror, finding your bottom lip angry and swollen. Flashes of last night return to you. One too many drinks. Handsome stranger. A far too impulsive kiss. The metallic taste of blood.

Hastily you tilt the mirror away, doing your best to avoid your reflection. Shame boils in your stomach, embarrassed that you let things get away from you so quickly last night. “It’s nothing, just knocked myself in the face."

You hope Evan can’t decipher the truth from the now throbbing wound. You’d like to maintain some guise of professionalism with him, otherwise he seems liable to send you on your way without a cent more than what he already gave you for your services. You turn the conversation back on him in hopes of further distraction, asking, “What are you doing here, why aren’t you at home?”

“I tried calling you but you weren’t answering. Have you heard the news?"

The urge to point out that you were literally just sleeping is strong, but you resist. “What news?” you ask while searching for your phone. Surely you would have woken up to your phone had he actually called. You locate it on the dirt-covered car floor. Dead. In your half-drunken stupor last night you hadn’t even thought to charge it with your portable battery.

“Somebody else was killed last night." Evan looks terrified, as though this is entirely unexpected despite his current situation. You can sense there's something more though, something he's hesitant to add and you wait for him to spit it out.

"They- they're saying the person was drained of blood." Another pause. "It was our secretary," Evan finishes quietly.

It's not exactly surprising. In a bizarre way it's almost relieving, more or less confirming that Max's supernatural identity is that of a vampire. A final nail in the coffin. The death is terrible, but this way you're saved the work of multiple avenues of research and can simply focus on the one.

You don't voice any of this to Evan. Instead you awkwardly pat his shoulder and offer your condolences. He accepts them and then his expression hardens. "This is Max's fault. We need to find him." The implied and kill him goes unsaid but hangs heavy in the air.

You ignore it, instead telling Evan to drive home and that you'll meet him there after getting some breakfast. Hours of research are stretching out ahead of you, a task that’s impossible to do while starving. That and it’ll be something to quell the uneasy feeling rolling around in your stomach. You watch Evan take off in his sensible black sedan and hope it won’t be the last time you see him.

Evan's house is more of what you've come to expect from him. A nice squat brick condo, tucked snugly between town and the suburbs; the perfect starter home for a young professional such as himself. In a few years he'd probably have a round little wife and a golden lab running around the yard.

Your beat up brown station wagon looks out of place in the driveway. Too old, too worn down for a fresh new development like this one. You wonder if the neighbors will talk. In a small subdivision like this one it seems likely.

Evan answers the door midway through your second knock. He ushers you into the house and immediately guides you to the kitchen, not even bothering to give you a tour. You're not sure if you should be offended or relieved by that.

From what you can see, nothing is a surprise. The walls are all painted the same inoffensive creamy beige, there’s some basic art likely bought at the nearest home decor store hung on the walls, and his furniture all looks straight from an Ikea ad. You’re not sure if he cleaned up in preparation for you coming over but you wish he hadn’t. There’s no mess in the house, making it look barely lived in. It’s almost unnerving how clean and orderly everything is, not to mention a bit disappointing. You’d hoped he might have something about him that was interesting and not cookie-cutter single white man in America. You were wrong.

Sitting down at his kitchen table, Evan looks at you expectantly while you pull out your laptop and journal. "What do we do now?" he asks.

"You can help me with research or you can go do whatever else you want to. I don't mind either way," you say simply.

Realistically, you don't want or need his help. He'll only slow you down with questions you've known the answers to since you were seven and inaccurate research. However, you've found that people are more likely to choose the latter when you give them the option instead of trying to dismiss them right away. Thankfully Evan decides it would be best to go do something else – after all, what is he paying you for – and you get to work.

A few hours later and you’ve taken over his table. Papers are splayed everywhere, your laptop has no less than 40 tabs open, and the remnants of a half-eaten lunch is lost somewhere in the mess. It’s coming together, a couple connections made that you’ve never had the time to put together before. You’re thrilled by your progress – the information from Brooke propelling your work that much further. It feels as though you’re slowly teasing out vampiric secrets that have remained in the shadows for millenia.

There’s just one thing.

The symbol you rediscovered in the margins of your journal – the one that you were so enamored with before you were interrupted last night. You can’t find anything on it. It was so long ago you can’t remember where you copied it from, other than the fact that it dealt with vampires in some capacity. If it didn’t, it wouldn’t have ended up in this section of your journal.

It’s not even complex which makes it worse. If it was truly complex there might be more hints to go off of, something to use as a keyword in your numerous and fruitless internet searches. As far as sigils go, it’s simplistic; a triangle with another inversed over top, a circle surrounding them both, and a single line dissecting it all.

You’re tracing it with your finger, once again lost in the possibilities of what it could be when Evan reenters the kitchen. “Have you found anything?”

You snap out of your stupor, quickly reordering your thoughts. To your left you’ve taken some pertinent notes, the first two questions starred for their importance. “Yeah actually, but I have some questions for you first if you don’t mind.”

Evan takes the chair next to you. “I don’t know what I can tell you about, but okay.”

You know this first question is going to make him uncomfortable. If you’re honest with yourself, there’s a little part of you that relishes in making him squirm, feeling it’s fair for his thinly-veiled judgemental looks.

Did he really think you didn’t notice his expression when he looked at the papers that you’ve spread across the table? What did he want, for you to work without seeing it all laid out before you? Absurd and impossible to see the connections that way. Nana has always encouraged you to spread everything as wide as possible, allowing you to step back and quite literally see the bigger picture. More than once has this method paid off, allowing you to connect ideas or concepts you might have otherwise missed.

You lean back in your chair and fold your arms over your chest before saying, “So, I think it’s probably about time you told me. Why does Max Phillips want to kill you?”

As you predicted, Evan fidgets in his seat, suddenly looking everywhere but at you. Obviously this was a question he’d been hoping to avoid. “We uh, we didn’t really get along in college.”

Way to state the obvious. “Got that. I’m going to need a little bit more here.”

Evan focuses on something just beyond you in the kitchen, clearly warring with himself. You stay quiet, waiting him out. He’ll have to tell you eventually whether he likes it or not. The clock in his kitchen ticks slowly, each movement of the second hand feeling momentous as Evan works to gather his words.

It’s quiet until Evan suddenly blurts, “He slept with my girlfriend, okay? And I may have gotten him kicked out of school.”

Well shit. That's not what you expected. To be honest you weren't sure what you expected, but that wasn't it. How did that even work? Is infidelity somehow an expel-able offense?

“So... you got him kicked out for sleeping with her?” you ask.

“Yes- well, no," Evan sighs and launches into more exasperated detail. "He was cheating on exams and I informed the academic integrity board. I might have reported him because of what he did to me, but he deserved to get kicked out anyway. The guy was a douche.”

You're not really sure how to respond. Clearly Evan feels as strongly about his choices now as he did in college. You're honestly not sure if the punishment truly fits the crime, but at least it's clear why Max wants him dead now.

Instead of addressing all of that, you ask your other question. “What does he look like?”

"Why does that matter?" Evan spits at you.

You put a hand up to him in shock, not anticipating that much venom for the simple question you asked. “I'd just like to know who to look out for.”

Evan returns to himself, seemingly embarrassed by his reaction, and pulls out his phone. You’re guessing Max is attractive. If he managed to sleep with another person’s girlfriend and get that reaction out of a person years on, your money is on someone handsome who still makes Evan insecure.

It's quiet while he searches for a photo, eventually finding one on a mutual college friend's facebook page.

"There, the one on the end," Evan says, pointing to the right side of the screen.

Your stomach bottoms out at the sight. Staring back at you from the screen is a face you already know. Your guess about him being attractive was right – it’s the handsome stranger from the bar. Your thoughts shift rapidly, pieces of information moving like a slide puzzle that's been set to auto-complete.

He looks nearly identical, a few years older in appearance now than when this photo was taken. In the photo his hair is a little longer with a light curl to the chocolate strands. He's not quite as broad, not fully filled out yet, t-shirt hanging loose on him. His smile however is exactly the same, wide and showing off his perfect set of pearly white teeth. There's no mistaking him and still you ask, “That’s Max?”

“Yeah.”

Well fuck.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself outside the bar door. Explaining to Evan how you knew Max would be here had been tricky without revealing your drunken mistake, but he bought the bullshit explanation easily. You don’t even remember what you said now, far too concerned with keeping him away from Max, now for more reasons than one.

Convincing him to stay behind had been the hard part. Evan seemed convinced that you couldn’t handle yourself or would need some kind of back-up, despite your assurances that you know exactly how to deal with vampires and that it’s his life that’s actually at risk. It took far more effort than you would have liked to keep him from coming with you. You somewhat regret even telling him where you expected Max to be, unsure of what he’ll do with that information.

The bar is just as dingy, but it feels more foreboding than it had yesterday. It’s no longer just the little shithole Evan chose to meet you in, but rather the little shithole you could die in. That somber thought has evaporated any of the charm the place seemed to hold before.

The light outside of the bar door flickers and you watch as a moth bumps into the aged bulb over and over again. Its futile efforts don’t exactly instill you with confidence. Taking one more deep breath, you push the creaky bar door open and step inside.

As expected, Max is sitting at the bartop, seemingly waiting for you (or possibly Evan) to arrive. After getting over the initial shock of holy shit you kissed Max, the fucking vampire you’re after earlier, your brain was able to catch up and think things through. Max being at the bar last night was far too much of a coincidence. It’s one you should have considered based on the other clientele, but alcohol and good looks had left you terribly distracted at the time. You can feel the phantom smack of Nana’s hand on the back of your head.

Max catches your eye the moment you step in, flashing a wide smile at you. "Angel, I knew you'd be back. You left in such a rush last night."

He’s wearing a different suit, a black tie swapped out for the red one. It’s difficult to not be annoyed by how good he looks in it. The smug look on his face makes you think that he might be able to tell what you’re thinking about before you swiftly remember that is not a power vampires have. Max is simply an intuitive ass.

You could punch the expression right off his face. If you didn’t know that it wouldn’t hurt him, you honestly might have tried. Doing your best to not let your irritation show, you stroll up to the bar and take the seat next to him. “Max. Let's cut the shit."

He offers you a surprised look and gestures with his drink for you to continue. Maybe this would go better than you’d been hoping. "I know what you are and why you're here,” you tell him frankly.

"Do you now?" Max throws back, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"You're a vampire and you're here to kill Evan Sanders." There’s no point in mincing words. The same alcoholic regulars are the only other people in the bar and just like last night, they aren’t listening to anything the two of you have to say. Hell, none of them had even glanced in your direction when you made out with him right in front of their faces.

Max seems far too relaxed for what you just revealed. He had to know then, know who you are and why you’re here. The only question now is how – unfortunately now is not the moment to ask. You’re not sure how long you have until something goes sideways and you need to get this dealt with.

“Maybe you’re smarter than you look,” Max says and now you really want to hit him. You grit your teeth, shoving down the urge to act on that want before continuing.

"I don't want to kill you-"

"Cute that you think you could,” Max intejects.

"-but Evan would love to. You need to leave now, while you still can."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" You’ve caught his full attention now. Max sets his glass down and leans in, eyes locked onto your face. His gaze is so intense that despite yourself you can feel your face growing hot. You’re honestly not sure if that’s a vampiric quality or just him.

You reach over and finish his drink to calm your nerves. It’s probably not the most sanitary, but considering that your tongue had been in his mouth less than 24 hours ago, you have bigger concerns. “It means that you’re lucky he called my number first and not someone else’s. In a couple days though who Evan called won’t matter and this place will be crawling with hunters because you haven’t been quiet.”

"Why do you care? Did I rock your world so hard you're willing to keep me alive, sugar lips?"

You roll your eyes at him, opening your mouth to shoot back a quick response but someone else beats you to it.

"What the fuck?"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You whirl around in your seat to find yourself face-to-face with Evan. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like something just broke in his mind, and you’re no longer sure which man you need to be more scared of. This situation just became far more dangerous and delicate than you wanted it to be.

You glance back at Max to gauge his reaction to Evan’s appearance, slightly surprised he hasn’t already jumped him, and catch his smirk. Asshole, he knew Evan was there. It’s the reason he asked such a stupid and borderline vulgar question in the first place.

"Evan, it's not what you think." God, how did you end up here? You sound like someone who just got caught cheating and the irony of the situation is not lost on you. It feels like you’re rehashing Evan and Max’s past for them, only this time you’re caught in the crossfire and instead of being expelled Max will end up dead.

"What the fuck else is that supposed to mean? Oh my god, have you been in on this?" Evan looks crazed, a pit of hate welling to the surface as he looks at Max behind you.

"No,” you try to reassure him. “This is the first time I've met him, I only know who he is because of you." A bit of a lie maybe, but you need Evan to calm down. You hadn't known it was Max at the time anyway.

Max tuts, cutting into the conversation. "Now there's no need to lie to the man. Are you embarrassed by our moment?"

Maybe you will let Max die. He seems set on getting himself killed, either by you or Evan at this point. Who are you to get in the way of a vampire and his eternal damnation?

The energy in the bar is thrumming, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. You're almost convinced there's actually dust being shaken from the old memorabilia that adorns the walls. Evan is clutching at his jacket, looking ready to explode and you can feel Max's heavy presence behind you. You feel like the cork in an expensive and old bottle of champagne and once you move out of position a mess is sure to take your place.

The old bartender wanders over, looking at the three of you and points to the door. It's as though the bar itself is rejecting the mounting pressure. “Take it outside.” It’s clear that it’s not a question.

You follow Evan out of the bar, Max hot on your heels, and frantically try to think of a solution to the current problem. Evan seems convinced now that you’ve been in on this the whole time with Max, like some sort of thrall under his spell. It's a little bit insulting honestly.

Max isn't helping things, but explaining what happened last night to Evan somehow seems worse. Call you crazy maybe, but the unhinged vibes you're getting from him make you think he won't exactly be understanding.

The parking lot is casted in shadow, lit by the single flickering light outside the bar and a couple spare street lights. There's a light fog rolling over the asphalt, mixing with the dim lights to create an otherworldly glow. For just a brief moment, the world sits still.

You're still positioned in the middle of the two men, trying your hardest to prevent the explosion that you know is coming. They haven't even spoken to each other yet, seemingly communicating through body language and tense stares alone. You snap first, unable to last under their pressure.

"Can we all just calm down here? Talk through this like adults?"

Evan lets out an ugly laugh at the same time Max shakes his head. Men.

"He's going to kill me and you want us to talk?" Evan yells, practically spitting.

They’re circling each other around you, as though your physical presence has erected a wall between them. You turn with them, hands up to mimic the invisible barrier. “If you would just let me do my job he won’t and we can all go about our lives.”

This time it’s Max who responds, confidently asserting, “Oh no, I’m going to kill him.”

This is absurd. It’s wholly and truly ridiculous and you don’t know what to do next for fear of triggering one of them into action. Whatever’s about to happen between them, it isn’t going to be pretty. You’re trying to think, trying to come up with something when everything shifts. Evan has been grasping tightly at his jacket since he arrived in the bar, you assumed out of nerves, only to now be proven wrong. He reaches into the jacket and pulls out a large, sharp… kitchen knife.

Max laughs at the weapon and if you weren’t so preoccupied with the danger it posed to the two of you very fleshy, very mortal humans, you might laugh with him. Idiot. A twelve year old knows that you kill a vampire with a wooden stake. That or beheading of course, but you can’t imagine that simple kitchen knife getting through Max’s neck. Really, what had been his plan? This is why jobs should always be left to professionals.

Against your better judgement you edge towards Evan – slowly like you’re approaching a cornered animal. For all intents and purposes, you are. Evan’s eyes are wild, not unlike a prey animal would look when their lives are being threatened. The knife weighs heavy and clumsy in his hand. You’re not sure if he’s going to drop it or start swinging wildly.

“Evan- Evan, drop the knife. It won’t do anything against him,” you try to tell him calmly.

Evan, predictably at this point, doesn’t listen to you. Instead he charges at Max, knife held above his head, only for Max to easily knock it from his hands and clutch the smaller man by the neck. The knife clatters pitifully to the blacktop, skittering to a stop just before your feet.

“Really now, Evan? Is that any way to greet an old friend?” Max taunts before releasing his neck and landing an easy punch to Evan’s kidney. Evan doubles over, gasping out in pain and clutching at his side. Max’s eyes flash red, a change you can see even in the gloomy haze. He’s sizing Evan up, waiting for him to recuperate a little so that he can hit him again and you know you need to do something. If you don’t, Evan is already as good as dead.

You look down at the knife at your feet and decide it’s better than nothing. Unlike Evan, you have a bit more tact and don’t run head first at the vampire. You move slowly, carefully watching as Max lands a couple more blows on Evan. Each one looks more painful than the last but you’re thankful for the distraction it provides. Max’s attention remains on him and not your slow approach. Finally, Max turns his back to you entirely and gives you the opening you need.

You move quickly, keeping a firm grip on the knife. He hears you at the last moment, changing the final trajectory of the blade from Max’s back to his arm, plunging deep into his bicep. Max roars in pain, reaching up and pulling it from his arm.

The blood that spills from the cut is thick and dark, reeking of something cloyingly sweet. Death, you register in the back of your mind. He stinks of death, which, all things considered, makes sense. He isn’t exactly a living member of society anymore.

Properly enraged by your nearly pointless attack, you watch as Max transforms. A scowl fixes itself onto his face, teeth permanently bared. His canines grow long and sharp, his own personal miniature daggers. Veins and arteries bulge from beneath his skin, patterns of crisscrossing blue and green. His brow bone sinks lower, shadowing his eyes that are permanently glowing a violent shade of red.

You barely have time to react, registering Evan's terrified and spluttering Jesus Christ somewhere in the back of your mind as Max picks you up like a ragdoll and throws you against a nearby car. "That hurt," Max growls, watching with satisfaction as your head makes a sickening thump against the back quarter panel.

You're pretty sure you don't fall unconscious. Darkness simply flickers like a blink and then your mind is left as foggy as the air surrounding you. Seconds feel like hours as you try to regain your focus, pieces of a heated argument between Evan and Max breaking through.

“You ruined my relationship."

“You ruined my life.”

There's a few more words you hear thrown around like girlfriend, expelled, Romania, but none of them really come together to anything coherent. From your position on the ground, you watch Max and Evan circle each other again, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Evan doesn't stand a chance. Of course he doesn't, he’s fighting a supernaturally enhanced person that already has size and muscle on him. It’s just a matter of time before Max gets tired of this little dance and goes in for the kill.

Okay, so, stabbing him clearly isn’t going to work. Not that you really thought it would – you had simply been hoping to slow him down. Max’s arm is hanging a bit more limply now, but unless you somehow become able to hack and slash him to bits that method isn’t going to be effective in the long term. You need to figure out something else, yesterday.

You sit up, groaning and rubbing at the back of your head. Max and Evan are still going at it, ignoring your presence again almost entirely. The thick stench of death is pungent and while it makes you want to retch, it’s also helping to bring you back to earth. You look around the parking lot as you fully regain your bearings, hoping to find some piece of trash strewn about that you can use to better fight Max. Unfortunately, you have no such luck and only manage to relocate the knife. Max really needs to do a better job of moving weapons away from his enemies.

Crawling over to it, you can hear as their argument reaches a fever pitch. The end is coming soon and you need to act fast. Picking up the knife once again, you’re left to make a quick decision. There isn’t much you can do and frantically you think through your options.

An image settles in your mind just as Max slams Evan onto the ground. Without hesitation, you draw the blade against your palm and paint the asphalt with your blood. You can feel rocks and dirt biting into the open wound but you ignore it, pushing through to continue your macabre art project. Max has Evan laid out before him, neck stretched and exposed, ready to bite into just as you slam your palm into the center of the sigil, redrawn from the margins of your journal.

Max screeches, his face transforming back, teeth retracting to normal. He’s holding his head as he pushes away from Evan, managing to give him a sharp kick to the head that sets off a renewed yell. Your eyes are wide, watching him with fascination, hand still pressed down into the graphic mark.

His eyes open to easily find yours, a fire burning in their now ochre colored depths. "What did you just do?"

"I don’t really know," you answer honestly.

Evan is knocked out cold – Max’s final kick finally too much pain for his body to bear. You and Max had stared at each other in disbelief for a long moment, unsure of what to do with each other. He tries to approach Evan again with his fist raised, only to cry out in pain when he gets too close, clutching at his head in agony. Whatever you’ve done, it’s clear that Max won’t be killing Evan today.

You pull yourself off the ground as Max approaches you. He grabs at you roughly only to release you a moment later, palm pressed to his forehead.

“What the fuck?” he grits out, stumbling back.

“I think you should stop doing that,” you tell him, intrigued by the adverse reaction. What have you done? Clearly that sigil has something to do with vampires, but you never imagined it having this kind of an effect. Max couldn’t seem to raise so much as a fang without some sort of splitting pain ripping through him.

You look down at Evan sprawled across the pavement and breathe a sigh of relief when you see his chest shallowly raising and lowering. Still alive then. You walk over to him and attempt to grab hold of his arms, only for your palm to sting painfully in protest.

Right. The cut. You look at it regretfully, flecked with filth from the asphalt. You'll need to get the wound cleaned and wrapped before you can do anything substantial with your hand.

With no other plan to move Evan, you look over at Max. “Pick him up,” you demand.

“Excuse me?” Max asks, squaring you with an indignant look.

“You heard me, pick him up. We’re going to put him in the backseat of my car and take him home.”

Max barks out a laugh. “I don’t know who you think you are toots, but I’m not going anywhere with you and I’m sure as shit not helping him.”

You step over Evan carefully and walk up to Max, getting directly in his face. It’s easy to do now that you’re confident he can’t so much as pull your hair without experiencing a far worse pain in return. “I think if you want to know what I just did to you, you’ll do anything I ask, stud.”

Max stares you down, sizing you up, trying to see if you're bluffing. When you don't back down he sighs, a leftover habit from when he needed to breathe, and wordlessly walks over to Evan. Max lifts him easily, tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. Between his supernatural strength and broad shoulders, it's almost too easy of a feat.

Max looks bored and irritated, waiting for you to lead him to your car. Walking towards it, he scoffs. "This piece of shit is your car?"

You glare at him, opening the back door with your good hand. "Yes and don't talk about her that way."

Max unceremoniously tosses Evan onto the bench seat and opens the passenger door. He tries to climb in himself, only to be prevented by an invisible barrier. "What the fuck is it now?" Max complains.

Good to know your sigils work at least. Or would have, if you didn't now need to destroy them to let Max into the car. You quickly find them, breaking them one at a time until Max is able to get in. A couple still remain and you make a mental note of which ones acted to allow or deny Max entry.

The drive to Evan's place is deathly silent. He's still knocked out cold in your backseat and at some point you roll the window down, hoping that the cool night air will both clear the remaining fog from your mind and rid the car of the stench coming from Max's arm wound. You're a little surprised it hasn't begun to heal already.

You really don't know what you've done to Max. The heat of the moment combined with your own head trauma left only that marking in your mind. It had been fairly stupid to use it without knowing what it did but you hadn't had much choice. Your only hope now is to find the book you copied it out of all those years ago or pray that somehow Nana knows what it is.

Evan's house is locked and without Max having permission to enter, you can't make it farther than the porch. You direct Max to set Evan on one of the cushioned wicker chairs and check his pulse.

"I'm a little concerned he isn't awake by now, how hard did you kick him?" you ask Max.

"Not hard enough."

You roll your eyes at Max and walk back to the car in search of a water bottle. When you return, Max is clutching at his head again and Evan is still blissfully unconscious.

"What did you just try to do?" you ask.

Max sets you with another glare and replies with a mumbled, "Nothing."

You ignore his obvious lie, splashing Evan in the face with the water. The cold and wet shock returns Evan coughing and spluttering to the waking world. When he catches sight of Max over your shoulder he panics, nearly falling out of the chair.

"Max, go wait in the car," you tell him.

Something dangerous flashes in Max's eye before he spits back, "I'm not some dog for you to order around, princess."

"I don't give a shit Max, go wait in the car while I talk to Evan."

You know he wants to challenge you further, if he could he'd probably be hurting you in some fashion right now but he can't, so instead he relents. He throws a final glare at Evan and leaves the porch, slamming the car door harder than what's necessary.

Evan looks terrified and angry but you're confident you can handle him now. He's too beat up to do any real damage to you. "So, about my fee. You already paid me for my call-out, which thank you, but I'm going to need a little more for everything else."

He stutters, not sure of how to reply. Finally he settles on a frenzied, "He's still alive!"

"And so are you!” you immediately hit back. “Look, dead or alive, Max won't be bothering you anymore and I did technically save your life tonight, so… you owe me."

Evan continues to stare at you in open disbelief. Part of you does feel a little bad, but you never said you were going to kill Max and realistically, your services have been rendered. The vampire threat has been neutralized, just not in the way Evan imagined. Or you did for that matter.

You decide to wait him out. It's worked on him for other things and really, you want your money. A girl needs things like food and gas and the 400 he already paid will only last so long. Slowly, Evan gets up from the chair, wincing slightly and goes to retrieve your money.

He hands you 600 dollars and looks you dead in the eyes. "I never want to see you again."

You nod, understanding his position and shove the money into your pocket. You get into the Suburban, throw it into reverse, and peel out from the quiet suburban neighborhood.

Max is quiet beside you, arms folded over his chest. You're not really sure of what to do or say now that Evan is behind you. Instead, you turn on the radio, letting it scan, and drive.

Taglist: @castleamc @sharkbait77 @librariantothejedi @janebby @spideysimpossiblegirl @roxypeanut @paperbag33 @escapades-to-rivendell @thisshipwillsail316 @lellowberry @danidrabbles @stevie75 @tintinn16 @doin-stuff @honestly-shite @hdghty @cannedsoupsucks @max--phillips @salome-c @serini-ty @beautyagegoodnesssize @greeneyedblondie44 @snow30285 @fic-appointment @kirsteng42 @athalien @radiowallet @ezrasbirdie @inkededucatednerdy @starlightmornings @beskarboobs @kesskirata @tacticalsparkles @missminkylove @niki_xie @gaiuswrites @thirddeadlysin @kotemorons @tothejedi @readsalot73 @tuskens-mando

#max phillips x reader #max phillips x you #max phillips x f!reader #max phillips x ofc #max phillips x original female character #max phillips x prudence walker #max phillips fanfiction #max phillips fanfic #bloodsucking bastards fanfiction #bonded #crasis writes

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mjpens · 3 years ago

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Max and Prudence from @mandocrasis 's Bonded for BIRDIE'S BIRTHDAY!!!

Happy Birthday Birdie!!

I know this is a day early but maybe this is a way to let everyone know to shower you with love tomorrow because woweee do you deserve it. I love you so much - your writing is phenomenal, your grasp of Max has a hold on me and you are one of the kindest people on this lovely hellsite. I hope you have a great long birthday weekend my matchin' outfit buddy!!! <3 <3

#i love birdie #max phillips #max phillips x ofc #bonded #maia draws #IT'S BIRDIE'S BIRTHDAY TOMORROW #EVERYONE GO AND SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HER

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 3 years ago

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Vampires Don’t Sparkle

For @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday and @flightlessangelwingspride weekly writing challenge!

Prompt: Glitter and/or “I’ll always be by your side.”

Pairing: Max Phillips x werewolf!OFC

Warnings: Language, minor fight, angst, fluffy ending, Max can be soft when he wants to and I will prove it. ALSO. My blatant love for pretty dresses because the second dress in the link is just *chefs kisses* and what I imagine Doll in.

A/N: Soooo, this particular oc doesn’t have a name yet, so Doll is the filler name I’ve been using while writing the actual fic. Doll has been a werewolf for about 15 years before she met Max and this is sometime in the future after they realize that they don’t, in fact, want to kill each other and it’s just love.

“Max Phillips! I swear to whatever gods there are I am GOING to stake your sorry ass!”

“My very fine, sorry ass?”

“Fuck you! If you wanna play dirty then I’m going to tell the whole office you do sparkle in the sun” she huffs, glaring at the garment bag draped on the couch as she walks by it.

She is not going. She told him a million times. He knows, he fucking knows, what she hates about this time of year, about this stupid annual party for a stupid thing to celebrate.

“Doll!” Max’s voice all but whines after her, his steps casual, like this is just another simple negotiation with a nervous potential client.

“No, I told you! I explained it and you said, and I quote “it’s absolutely fine babe, no big deal“ your exact words!” she tosses the words like barbs over her shoulder at him.

“Okay, I know that but-”

“No. Big. Deal.” she turns on her heel, stopping Max from coming any closer with a scowl, challenging him with his own words.

He could drag this out, make it seem not so bad, bargain and maybe make a deal but he gets the distinct sense that this is not a particular bear (well, wolf actually) he should poke.

“Okay, don’t come, it is no big deal” he smirks like he means it but her shoulders don’t relax “I’ll let sleeping dogs lie.”

That gets a sigh and an eye roll out of her. And she slams the bedroom door in his face.

Still mad, not seething, but there’s nothing volatile in her scent that washes in the air around him when he turns away from the closed door and he’ll take it.

He gets it. Why she doesn’t like this particular holiday and what it means. Well, at least what it use to mean back when she was alone. It’s a raw nerve that he hasn’t figured out a way to talk himself around yet.

Listening for any encouraging sounds beyond the bedroom door and finding nothing but her heartbeat and the shuffle of her body on the sheets.

Maybe next year.

-----------------------------

Doll stays curled up under the heavy comforter until the sound of his footsteps fade away down the hall outside of the apartment, the soft click of the elevator button making her jaw clench.

It’s not Max she is mad at, not even at the garment bag she hadn’t even peeked inside of.

No, there is nothing angry inside of her anymore, just . . . sad. Tired even. It’s all an empty imitation of the burning feeling she had the first few years after she was changed.

The scars that remain from it are old and faint but they pinch and ache at the memory. The reminder that no matter how many years go by nothing will change for her and how is it harder now that she had someone to share it with?

Shouldn’t it feel lighter knowing that Max won’t be ground away into nothing by time like rocks under the weight of the ocean?

Fuck this. Fucking fuck this.

Hurling away the covers, she gets out of bed and strides toward the door, shedding her baggy shirt and shorts on the way until she’s standing in nothing but her underwear, glowering at the garment bag.

Whatever sits inside of it will undoubtedly fit her perfectly because that’s just so Max. She anticipates red, tight, and barely there when she tugs at the zipper of the bag. None of which she has anything against but it’s all more Max than her and oh holy shit-

That is not at all what she had expected but okay. It’s more than okay. It’s sheer black and velvet and beading with a slit that crawls nearly up to the waist line and a high collar with light sleeves and she kind of can’t wait to put it on. If she can figure out how to.

--------------------------------------

The city is loud and pressing as all cities are for her senses and on New Year’s Eve inside an elaborately decorated building that vaguely reminds her of Die Hard? She might as well have brought noise canceling headphones.

She has no idea how Max does this on a regular basis.

It’s all smells of pricey hor d’oeuvres, bubbles fizzing in glasses of champagne and the ebb and flow of the crowds. But there’s no reason to text Max and ask where he is in this maze because hunting each other down the old fashion way is much more fun.

Barely fifteen minutes in, she keeps track, and technically she scented him first but the look on Max’s face when he spots her over the shoulder of the person he was talking to is worth letting it slide.

He gives some quick excuse and makes his way over to her, barely hiding the giddiness in is step and she really should tell him how fucking adorable that dimple is when he smiles.

“I’m sorry I threatened to stake your-” her words get cut off when he wraps her up in a hug that absolutely would have crushed her ribs were she human.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m just really glad you came” he breathes the words into her ear, cheek pressed snugly to hers in an imitation of her usual greetings after long days apart.

“Still, I know you just wanted me to have fun, I shouldn’t have threatened your very fine ass” she slips her arms just as tightly around him.

“Doll, if I wanted you to really have fun we would be as far from here as possible” Max pulls back only far enough to look her in the eyes, grinning now.

“You’re such a dick, Phillips” she huffs, tone holding nothing but affection.

“Well, you also pulled the ‘sparkly vampire’ card earlier so . . .” his hands slide down to the velvet fabric of the high-waisted skirt, dangerously close to her ass.

“Well, you are kind of sparkling right now after you rubbed off half the glitter on my face.”

He frowns, eyes narrowing and looking from one side of her face to the other, the silver flecks of glitter uneven from one cheek to the other as the amusement in her eyes grows.

“Hmmm, doesn’t matter” he declares, dipping his face back down so it’s level with hers “I’m just happy you’re by my side this year.”

She grabs his chin, foreheads pressed together, and rubs at the glitter on the apple of his cheek with her thumb, a light, dizzy feeling swelling up in her chest. It’s tinged with fear, like it always is after another year passes, but now it doesn’t feel like she’ll drift away.

She has an anchor now, an occasionally full of himself and slightly bratty anchor, but also a thoughtful, caring and secretly loving one.

“I’ll always be by your side, Max” she tells him and makes sure he feels it when she presses her lips to his.

#writer wednesday #Jey's Pride Celebration 2k21 #max phillips #max phillips x ofc #bloodsucking bastards #max phillips imagine #max phillips drabble #i love pretty dresses that I would never fit in to #but oh well #i really got in my feels on this didn't i?#duck did it

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miraclesabound · 2 years ago

Photo

[Image description: A black and white drawing of Max Phillips and his now-fiancée, Charlotte “Charli” Moore. Max is shirtless and wearing sweatpants; Charli is wearing only a long T-shirt. She is smiling over her shoulder at him, showing off her new vampire fangs. Max has one hand on her waist, and the other is holding an open box with an engagement ring inside.]

My newest commission, drawn by the ever-talented @miranhas-art! This time, the scene is from “Baby, It’s Happily Every After”. I love seeing Max and Charli more casual!

Tag List: @writeforfandoms, @clydesducktape, @cinewhore, @hopeamarsu, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @littlemisspascal, @mswarriorbabe80, @princessxkenobi, @thirddeadlysin, @recklessworry, @readsalot73, @fictitious-little-stitious, @lowlights, @max--phillips

#max phillips #max phillips x ofc #max phillips x plus size oc

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brandyllyn · 4 years ago

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Brandyllyn’s Masterlist

Firstly and most importantly, I wrote a book. Love nor Money is a “why choose” romance about Maya Alvani, a down on her luck woman who agrees to pretend to be the mistress of three of the cities most powerful criminals. For more information about the book itself go here.

Buy it here. Buy the holiday epilogue here.

Both are available for free with Kindle Unlimited at the same links.

📚<- This work is complete.

Requests are currently closed but thots are always welcome.

I am also brandyllyn on AO3

If you want fanfic updates follow @brandyllyn-writes. For more general updates Join my mailing list!

Most things I write are explicit and I’ve also tried to tag / warn everything appropriately. Let me know if I missed something.

Soulmate Headcanons

Pedro Pascal Characters as Cats with @blueeyesatnight

Because I was inverted... Pretty much every character I write for has a blurb or two in here. This was for a follower celebration.

Kinktober 2021 - here there be smut

Fandoms in alphabetical order.

NSFW Alphabet: Max Phillips 📚

The below fics can be read as standalones or as parts of the Max x Sugartits series.

Fringe Benefits : Max Phillips x f!reader (Explicit) (5k words) 📚 Max has a proposition for you.

Consensual Violence : Max Phillips x f!reader (Mature / Explicit) (3.2k words) 📚 Max’s enthusiasm in the bedroom accidentally sends you to the emergency room. It’s honestly more embarrassing than painful.

Did you mean it? : Max Phillips x f!reader (Explicit) (6.4k words) 📚 Max accompanies you to a family function. It goes about as well as expected.

By the numbers : Max Phillips x f!reader Once Bitten :: Twice Shy :: Safety Third :: Forever (Explicit)(12.7 words) 📚 Max and you hit some turbulence in your relationship.

Bonus: Half a Mind to (2k words) 📚 Max’s POV between Once Bitten and Twice Shy. I suggest reading all of By the Numbers before this one.

After : Max Phillips x f!reader (Mature) (2.4k words) 📚 Things aren’t quite back to normal for you and Max.

Various Requests:

All of these are standalone (as above) but are theoretically in universe and would take place somewhere between Consensual Violence and Did you mean it?

Max reacts to you cutting yourself accidentally. (640 words, smut adjacent) More about Max enjoying a bendy reader. (600 words, smut) Max being an annoying pest where you work. (790 words, smut) Max does not fly economy. (690 words) Getting a taste (2.2k words. hella smut) Turnabout is fair play (770 words, smut?) Max watches porn (300 words, smut adjacent I guess?) Teasing Max (1.2k words, smut) Repellent (1.7 words)

Adventurous : Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x f!reader (Explicit)(5.7k words)📚 Your friend drags you to an unconventional party. Mysterious (Explicit)(4.6k words)📚 Benny tries to follow-up the next day.

Doppelgänger : Nathan Bateman x f!Reader (Explicit) (13.6k words) 📚 You’re invited to Nathan’s house after ‘the incident’ to test his new AI. A masc one this time. Of course Nathan made it in the form of the most perfect man he knows, himself.

Silk from their Soul : The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!Reader (Explicit)(39k words)📚 It was supposed to be an easy bounty. But something ain't right about her - and Cooper's itching to find out what.

Monstruo : Pero Tovar (no pairing) (Teen)(3.7k words) 📚 After the events on the wall, Pero and William make an unexpected discovery.

Innocence need not tremble : Pero Tovar x f!reader (Explicit)(3.3k) 📚 Pero is finds himself on the receiving end of an indecent proposition.

Sinners : Pero Tovar x f!reader (Explicit)(8.4k) 📚 A promise made to protect William’s wife complicates Pero’s pursuit of you.

Bought and Paid For: Frederick Chilton x OFC (Explicit)(13k words)[AO3] 📚 Disgusted by the idea of going to his first public event after the shooting alone - Frederick Chilton decides to hire the services of an escort for the evening.

Dove Grey Bows: Frederick Chilton x OFC (Everyone)(1k words)[AO3] 📚 Sequel to ‘Bought and Paid For’: Everything was going wrong, Chilton was definitely going to fire the person responsible - but did he have time to fix it?

Time’s Fool: Frederick Chilton x OFC of color (Explicit)(11k words)[AO3] 📚 A woman from Chilton’s past has the power to throw his entire life into disarray - but will their unfinished business ruin him or save him?

Honorable Intentions : Aloy x Erend (Explicit)(5k) 📚 Erend offers to help Aloy before the Proving.

A Chance : Aloy x Erend (Explicit)(5k) 📚 At the base, Erend and Aloy have a long overdue conversation.

Dreams are sweet until they’re not : Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader (Explicit)(8.6k) 📚 A crimson rose only ever meant one thing, death. [Soulmate AU]

Harder to Hold : Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader (Explicit)(32.5k words) 📚 You’re confused but pleased when a handsome cowboy puts moves on you at a bar one night.

Next Time : Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader (Teen)(2.5k words) 📚 Jack takes you out on a date. It does not go well.

This Time : Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels x f!reader (Teen) 📚 Second date with Jack.

Trust in Me : Jack Daniels vs. f!reader (Teen)(drabbles exist on their own) Jack has been assigned a bodyguard. He’s not happy about it.

A Good Man Feelin’ Bad : Rafael Barba x OFC (Explicit)(44k words)[AO3] 📚* He really should go out more often if girls - *women* he heard Olivia correct him in his head - were this forward now.

Baubles of Stolen Kisses : Richard Alonso Muñoz x f!reader (explicit)(17.6K words) 📚 A slow dive into the start and growth of your relationship with Richard. Deals with themes of insecurity and self-worth.

Nene : Richard Alonso Muñoz x f!reader (Teen)(2.5K words) 📚 What to expect when you and Richard are expecting.

Crimes of Passion : Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa x f!reader (explicit)(hiatus) You’re a good girl. And Bishop is a very bad man.

To sell your love for peace : Javier Peña x f!reader (Explicit)(27k words) 📚 You are Javier’s newest informant. And all that that entails.

To perish twice : Javier Peña x f!reader Pt 1 :: Pt 2 :: Pt3 (Explicit)(7.7k) 📚 You can feel when your soulmate comes.

Cross My Heart : Ezra x f!reader (T)(5.7k) 📚 "I do not know who I am when I am half a man.”

Lucky Stars : Ezra x GN!reader (Teen)(3.3k)📚 “Are you a good man?” “I like to believe I am a man of good intentions.”

Into the Shade : Ezra x f!reader (E)(8k) 📚 Who would fake a soulmate? [Soulmate AU]

Hold fast to dreams : Ezra x f!reader (Teen)(4.3k) 📚 Returned from the Green Ezra has debts to pay.

Blind Trust : Ezra x f!reader (Explicit)(4k words) 📚 Could he help her find her pleasure - one armed and unable to speak? Ezra was willing to bet his reputation he could.

Make dreams truths : Ezra x f!reader (Explicit)(4.3k words) 📚 Ezra had been a killer. Was known to be a rogue. Occasionally even a degenerate...

When they disentwine : Ezra x f!reader (Explicit)(4.3k words) 📚 Ezra returns to his tent to find you going though his things.

NSFW Alphabet: Poe Dameron (NC-17) 📚 SFW Alphabet: Poe Dameron (PG) 📚

Goofballs in Love Masterlist: A series of spicy, funny one-shots about your relationship with Poe Dameron (virtually all E)

In Our Own Image… : Poe Dameron x OFC (Mostly T, has tagged M/E chapters) (64k words) 📚 Poe had a type. He’d admit it. And that type was “could kick his ass and steal his ship.” It had gotten him into trouble too many times to count in the past, and yet here he was.

Alabanza: Poe Dameron x f!Reader (Mostly T, has M/E chapters) (60k words)[AO3] 📚 A mis-delivered message causes You and Poe Dameron to become anonymous penpals. But falling for each other via letter while at the same time falling for each other in the real world leads to more than its fair share of complications.

The Art of Falling: Poe Dameron x f!Reader (Mostly T, has M/E chapters) (40k words) 📚 The arrival of Black Squadron on Ansion means a lot of new changes for you, the base's Chief Mechanic.

For the first time seen : Poe Dameron x ? (General audiences.)(2.1k words) 📚 Poe is looking for his soulmate.

Give me a ring : Poe Dameron x gn!reader (Teen)(900 words)📚 Poe tries to flirt. Key word: tries.

Justifiable : Bud Cooper x f!Reader (Mature) (3k words) 📚 Your husband’s death leaves you the beneficiary of his policy

Death come knocking : Bud Cooper x f!Reader (Explicit)(2.4k words) 📚 Mr. Cooper is investigating your neighbor’s disappearance.

NSFW Alphabet: Santiago Garcia 📚

War makes thieves, and peace hangs them : Mostly Santiago Garcia x f!Reader (OFC in that she is described as being moderately thin) (Hella Explicit) (28K words or so) 📚 When Santi needs people for a mission he knows just who to call. But it quickly becomes apparent they’re short one key role - a thief. Preferably one with nice breasts who makes friends easily.

Note: Pt13: Frankie’s Epilogue can be read as a standalone

Never meet your heroes : Santiago Garcia x gn!reader (Teen)(900 words) 📚 You introduce Santiago to your dad.

Mi Hermano : Santiago Garcia x gn!reader (Teen)(1.3k words) 📚 Followup to Never meet your heroes, yours and Santi’s rehearsal dinner.

How High : Santiago Garcia x gn!reader (Teen)(1.3k words) 📚 Followup to Mi Hermano, Frankie invites a guest to drinks with the boys.

Validation : Santiago Garcia x f!reader (Explicit) (5.6k words) 📚 Santi comes home early to find his new roommate a little undressed.

Corroboration : Santiago Garcia x f!reader (Explicit) (5.6k words) 📚 Celebrating a new job and trying to keep your relationship a secret from Frankie. Maybe you two should have just stayed in - you always had more fun there. [sequel to Validation, can be read as a standalone]

Patriotic : Santiago Garcia x f!reader (Teen) (360 words) (just a little domestic drabble) 📚

Love and Cookies : no pairings (Everyone) (1.2k words) 📚 The boys help Frankie’s daughter sell cookies.

Family Friendly : Frankie Morales x f!reader [wife] (Explicit)(1.2k words) 📚 Teasing Frankie at the family BBQ.

A Triple Frontier / Jurassic Park AU. Co-written with @blueeyesatnight (Mature) (8.5k) 📚 The boys take a job on an island off the coast of Costa Rica. They are not prepared for what they find.

A Triple Frontier / Pacific Rim AU. Co-written with @blueeyesatnight Part One - Part Two (Mature) (3.4k) 📚 It’s drift match day for the Triple Frontier boys

A Triple Frontier / Aliens AU. Co-written with @blueeyesatnight (Mature)(11k)📚 The boys take a job at a colony in the far reaches. They are (yet again) not prepared for what they find.

Teaser

Half Empty: Nevada Ramirez x f!Reader (Explicit)(13k words)[AO3] 📚 It was supposed to be a fresh start, a new business and a new life in Washington Heights. But when Nevada Ramirez strolls through the door of your bar, demanding ten thousand dollars for his ‘protection’, you find yourself negotiating with your body. You can only hope you find the money before he loses interest.

Debt Makes Promises: Nevada Ramirez x OFC (Explicit)(47k words)[AO3]📚 When she asks Nevada Ramirez for a favor she’s expected to give one in return.

Further on the Edge: Nevada Ramirez x OFC (Explicit)(21k words)[AO3] 📚 Drawn together by circumstance - Nevada meets a woman who gives him a run for his money. But she’s not quite what she presents herself to him…

Oh Santa : Michael Perry x f!reader (Teen)(1k words)📚 You and Michael have the same idea one Christmas.

I refuse to give him a whole header but I also wrote a Dave York thing...

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