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heartsofminds · 11 months

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my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.”

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have.

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him.

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing.

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be.

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?”

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.”

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used.

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.”

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan.

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving.

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options.

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more.

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time.

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself.

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt.

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is.

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman.

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop.

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him.

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.”

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs.

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed.

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that?

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy.

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once.

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.”

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go.

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason.

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans.

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.”

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.”

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.”

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her.

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him.

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.”

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year.

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry.

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl.

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort.

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.”

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.”

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks.

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures.

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be.

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid).

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox.

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms.

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?”

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears.

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair.

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs.

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?”

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick.

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?”

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween.

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.”

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated.

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is.

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest.

God, this girl is so dramatic.

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness.

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.”

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can.

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why.

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.”

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby.

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.”

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him.

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.”

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return.

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.”

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up.

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.”

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle.

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends.

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him.

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue.

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them.

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion.

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?”

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.”

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?”

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!”

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.”

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –”

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend.

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar.

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up.

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew.

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face.

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there.

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice.

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight.

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed.

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night.

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello.

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume.

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley.

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak.

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?”

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?”

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween.

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy.

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet.

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.”

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows.

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm.

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!”

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize.

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically.

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.”

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head.

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in.

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley.

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened.

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles.

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her.

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.”

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.”

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in.

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead.

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway.

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses.

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips.

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.”

“She’s what?”

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!”

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately.

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him.

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex.

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding.

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad.

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position.

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder.

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.”

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now?

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.”

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?”

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for.

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him.

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself.

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.”

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand.

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.”

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father.

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be.

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her.

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.”

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews.

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby?

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest.

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor.

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017).

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob.

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week).

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores.

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention.

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?”

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you.

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there.

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that.

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language.

Fuck. Why do I always do this?

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in.

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend.

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces.

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind.

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.”

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –”

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off.

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you?

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use.

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –”

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.”

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you?

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.”

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you?

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table.

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.”

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?”

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble.

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you.

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it.

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend.

Some things just aren’t meant to be.

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha.

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,” Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth.

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth.

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks.

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?”

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry.

“You what?”

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.”

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?”

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron.

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him.

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?”

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact.

“You did what?”

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.””

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say.

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.”

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it.

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all.

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person.

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain.

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago.

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how.

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.”

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you.

657 notes · View notes

stevielicious · 7 months

Text

𓆩⟡𓆪 His Little Stripper 𓆩⟡𓆪

pairing- Colby Brock x fem!reader

summary- a stripper catches the eyes of a handsome man, has a lotta fun

warnings- a lil angsty, some hardcore smut lol, cute lil ending

word count- 3k or sum? maybe 4k, LMAO

a/n- been a long time since I’ve written, enjoy

o==[]::::::::::::::::>

The whole studio was bouncing, the bass rhythmically played throughout the club. Swimming inside the walls, almost enticing you in. The night was young and had only just begun, it was a start to a long night. Here, I was treated almost like royalty, all the other dancers liked to roll their eyes or make snarky comments because they didn’t like the way I hogged all the attention, I was young and that’s nothing I could help.

You could say I was a good dancer. One of the best.

Brittney. I only had one friend in this place, the rest would only batter their eyelashes to get a hand on your earnings. Not Brittney though. She was a sweet, honest girl that just needed the extra cash and in complete fairness, that’s what we were both here for. We were both the youngest in this place. University costs an arm and a leg, there’s no lie in that. It was a hated industry, but the world is a tough place to make a living.

“Girl! You gotta get out there! it’s thriving with old dudes that have a TON of money!!” She heaved, slumping on a swivel chair next to mine, with a wide-eyed expression painted across her makeup clad features. I glanced at her through the huge mirrors stuck to the smoke stained walls, with a slight smirk finishing up on my cherry red lipgloss, “Oh yeah? Sounds just like every other night.”

“Well, I did see these couple guys around our age, maybe older, they were sooo hot.” Brittney explained, emphasising their good looks, applying makeup to her smudged areas. She seemed skittish, almost like she was eager to get back out there. This time I’d turned to face her, making my blonde hair a bouncy, wavey look. Being expressive with her hands, matter of factly she had said, “I sooo wished they’d came over to me, that brunette guy was soo handsome, so mysterious too. I’ll have to show you when you get your ass out there! I’d give that man a dance for free any day.”

I giggled, never hearing her talk like this made me believe these men were as handsome as she said they were. Maybe I’ll have to see for myself. I began to slip my cherry red heels on, glancing in the mirror, puffing my hair out. I had styled it in to an 80’s blowout type look, just more modernised. “I believe you girl, it’s been a while since we’ve had a looker come here.”

“Man, you look like a whole full course meal looking like that, Y/N. You have more of a chance than me at getting that handsome devil in a booth. Gosh, you’re so sexy!” Brittney huffed, looking at me with a sad but hopeful expression.

I grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her chair. Cupping her face with my hands, I said with confidence, “God is a woman, and you my friend are a fucking goddess! Now let’s get out there and make some fucking money!” She smiled into my hands as I then spun her around, seeing the sparkles on her little outfit shine.

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I stood behind Brittney as she peeped from behind the big, draping, scarlet red curtain that lead out to the runway. A shiny pole awaiting us. Britt had kept an eye on the stage as I was trying to skim the crowd for the one who looks like they had the most cash with them. “Oh! Gabriella’s almost finished her dance, god blue is NOT her colour!”

“Brittney! You have to watch your mouth sometimes, you’ll get in trouble if someone hears you!” I wispered harshly, playfully jabbing her arm. She moved over a little so I could get a better look of the crowd. Taking me by surprise, a pair of striking blue eyes caught my own as I swiftly shut the curtain, almost knocking Britt over, “Holy shit.”

“What? What!” The brunette nudged me out the way as I took a step back, body running cold. I heard her muttering as she closed the curtain as quick as she re-opened it, turning to me. “Oh my God, that’s him!”

“Shut up! I’ve never seen him before, I can’t dance infront of him, he’s too pretty to be here! What’s a guy like him doing here?! God!” I gulped, walking back and forth on myself, finding my nerves getting the better of me of me. God, his dark brown hair and that shiny earring glistening in his ear, the black button up, the shine on his rings and tattooed arms, man. I’m used to dancing for 40+ year old guys, not actual good looking guys my age!

“Are you being serious right now, Y/N? You’re the hottest one here, if Gab’s can flaunt it then you definitely can too!” She exclaimed assertively, stopping me in my tracks, hands on either side of my arms. Pointing her finger in my face.

“Hey sluts, they’re waiting.” A scratchy, unbothered voice had sounded as the clacking of heels sounded down the set of stairs held by the stage. We both rolled our eyes as she swang her hips side to side, sauntering away from us.

“Ugh, whatta bitch.” We muttered in unison, breathing out a laugh. Britt gave me a subtle peck on the cheek, something she always did to calm my nerves before my journey to the pole, “Knock ‘em dead, Y/N”

As she turned my track on, I took a deep breath, pushing my boobs up a little, feeling the deep red lace against my body. Promiscuous sounded, by Nelly & Timbaland. As much as it is a corny song, the boys loved it.

Whipping my hair over my shoulder, I winked at my bestie, and started my walk. The giant curtains opened as I started to strut. The dim lights only lighting up solely on the pole. My confidence returning as my hips swirled to the beat, winking at thirsty men in the crowd. I raised my arms leaning my head back touching my chest.

I made my way over to the center, strutting around the shiny metal pole, caressing it gently. Placing my heels accordingly on the polished platform, stepping on dollar bills everywhere I walked. “Promiscuous girl, you’re teasin’ me. You know what I want and I got what you need.”

I raised my leg on the pole letting my body drape around as my arm held my balance along the pole. As I smoothly came to the bottom of the glistening metal, I spread my legs one infront and one behind, bouncing slightly. Rolling onto my next move, the same pair of blue eyes caught my attention, I couldn’t help but stare for a second, which felt like minutes, as I got behind the pole, he winked at me.

Which took me by surprise as I blushed. I gulped and returned the wink. I blew a kiss at this man, as I slut dropped down the metal shaft, licking up it. Keeping eye contact, his mouth agape. When I grew confidence, I also grew dirty. Giving what these men came to see. “Have all my money!”

One man shouted, another had exclaimed, “I want you to ride my face, please! Be my dirty little girl!” I smiled politely at these men, knowing full well they probably have wives at home, most of them having a ring on their marriage finger. Bastards.

As I danced around the pole, I let my hips do the work, shaking them around in a sexy way. Left to right, innocently dancing. Mouthing the lyrics, shutting my eyes ever so slightly. With my back to the pole now, I had slid down it, mouthing the lyrics, “I’m all alone and it’s you that I want!”

Motioning this handsome blue eyed boy to me with my fingers, in a ‘come here’ type of way. Hoping to entice him, or just playfully tease him. He was leaning against the bar, eyes glued to me. I’ve felt his eyes on me the whole dance. He had this dark smirk on him, looking me up and down with these hungry eyes. Turning his full body towards me now. He mouthed, “Oh yeah?”

In return, I sent an innocent wink his way, with a smile this time. Getting on my feet and swinging around the pole one last time before subtly dropping down, against the cold metal, arching my back as I pushed my hips towards the pole, not letting go. The lights going dark once again as my time came to an end.

I blew the crowd a kiss as I took one last glance toward the bar, the man that had captivated my full attention could not be seen. My heart sank a little as I turned on my heel, forming a strut down the walk as the curtains closed behind me, the money being collected as I had left the stage that I had now earned.

“Eeek! Y/N! You did so good! How am I supposed to follow that performance up?!” Brittney squealed, high fiving me.

“You’ll do even better than me, I’m sure of it!” Giving her praise, she was the one thing that got me through this place, she deserved more confidence. “ I’m gonna take a walk on the floor, gonna get a drink! Go get ‘em tiger!”

As much as I was there for my girl, I desperately wanted to see if this man had stuck around.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Venturing onto the men-riddled floor, I tried to keep my composure. This was when my nerves got the better of me, you’re looked at as a piece of meat when you’re of the floor. Up on the stage, you feel as though everyone’s below you, literally. You’re on top, nobody can touch you up there.

I found myself at the bar, just asking for a lemonade to pass the time, a kind, older woman had served me. She was one of the nicer workers that resided here, “Would you like a cherry in there too, Y/N?”

“You know me.” I softly said, giving her a thankful smile. Some saw me as the baby here and some saw me as the queen. It was a weird place to be, I just appreciated the kind ones. She gave me a wink and went on her way to make me a the simple concoction.

“Y/N. What a name. Pretty, too.” A deep, husky voice sounded from next to me, as I felt his eyes burn into the side of my head. I turned, slowly looking up at him, his tall, dark frame leaning down on me. I gulped. Those familiar blue eyes keeping ahold of my attention, his warm smile sounding, “Hey, I’m Colby.” He took my hand and kissed it gently.

“Y/N. Hey.” I shyly ushered out in one whole breathe, as I glanced down, my hair falling infront of my face. He was gorgeous, a true beauty. I must be lucky for someone like him to be able to approach me.

“Yeah, I know” He chuckled. I blushed as he heard the lady behind the bar already address that. Don’t screw up now girl! “Is that your real name? I know ladies like to have a disguise around here.”

He observantly mentioned, smirking too. I was at a loss for words, Colby was so captivating, I was lost in his celestial, lapis eyes. His chestnut hair cascading infront of his eyes ever so slightly. “It is, does that disappoint you?”

I decided to be honest, maybe he’d find that attractive in its self. After all, he was honest with me. “What? God no, I think you’re stunning, and your names just the cherry on top!”

Colby ironically exclaimed, as my drink was placed infront of me. The lady looked at both me and him and smiled, raising her eyebrows at me. He glanced at my drink, taking the cherry. Swivelling it in his grip, he glanced at me. I looked up at him with my doe eyes, as he popped it in my mouth, plucking the stem from the cherry itself. “Good girl.”

My heart started to race as he reached his hand out, ushering me closer. As I went to take his hand, a loud roguish man approached me, grabbing me by waist, immediately yelling in my face, “Are you gonna dance for me or what? Huh?”

The alcohol definitely playing its part, I glanced to security, they hadn’t seen the commotion yet and my heart was jumping out of its chest. He towered over me demanding, impatiently waiting for an answer. “Sir, please don’t speak to me like tha-“

“I can speak to you how the FUCK I want, don’t you dare think for a second that your better than me or anyone’s gonna save your pretty little ass, you do what I tell you-“ a huge thud landed as I was swiftly pushed back, the man in front of me collapsing to the ground. Colby had lunged at the drunken man. Angered, he had hit him square in the jaw, a tooth rolling around on the floor. A splash of blood on already red heel.

My breath hitched in my throat, still no security in sight, the music too loud for anyone to really give a shit. Colby had picked this man up by his shift, as though he weighed of nothing, he hissed in his face, “Beat it.”

The man was dropped to his feet and quickly scurried away, as if he saw death itself. I watched as he was out of site, a warm touch against my chin snapped me out of the trance I was in. Startled. “Are you okay, beautiful?”

Gazing into his eyes, hard to look away, I stuttered out, “I-uh, yeah. Thank you.” I placed my hand on his chest trying to gain my breath back, it all happened so fast, a boldness took over me, the sheer sign of strength made so effortlessly was almost overwhelming, “Wanna get out of here?”

I felt his heartbeat pick up every so slightly as he huskily said, “Lead the way, Y/N.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Of all places, I lead him to one of the private booths, the expensive, champagne riddled rooms. I shut the curtains to the room, letting staff know that it was occupied. The curved couch was a sparkly red, that had a pole in the middle as well as a love seat. The circular table had three bottles of champagne in a bucket of ice, recently been placed there. Lights had become dim since I’d closed the curtains and there were little sources of light emerging from under both seats. Colby had poured a drink for me and himself, keeping them set down on the table, he approached me with a smirk on his face, “What brings us here then beautiful?”

“I wanted to thank you back there, you were so brave.” Placing my hand on his chest once again, ever so slightly pushing him backwards, towards the curved seat, trailing my hand downwards. Batting my eyelashes at him with my big doe like eyes, I pouted, “So strong.”

His legs hit the textured couch, falling back on, eyes never straying from mine once. I began to crawl on top of him, in a straddle position, feeling himself twitch underneath me, “I-That was nothing back there, a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t have to take that shit.”

He insisted while taking in my body, my looks. Colbys hands began to travel up and down my lacy, deep red piece, taking it all in, breathing a little heavier than before. Muttering, he shifted a little from under me, looking back up at my eyes, “Fuck.”

Smirking slightly, I leant forward, giving him an eyeful of my cleavage, whispering, “I’ll make you feel good, Colby.” His breath began to hitch as I began to kiss up his jaw, his eyes darkened as he lifted my face, gazing into my eyes. His plump lips were begging to meet mine, he took a quick glance at my lips and mumbled hastily, “You’re making me crazy, beautiful.”

And with that he crashed his whiskey stained lips into my cherry tasted ones. Hunger was taking over and I grew to want him so badly. His great hands found their way to my back, travelling down and cupping me, grabbing me ever so slightly but enough for me to moan into his mouth. He seemed to like that. Swiftly, he took my laced bra off with one quick motion, making me gasp.

My hands got the better of me and I started unbuttoning his shirt, almost frustrated that it wasn’t coming undone quick enough. He pulled away, picking me up, his hands under me, straddling his waist now, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

The blue eyed boy had laid us down, I was now laying on the love seat, he towered over me, looking me up and down, ready to feast. Colby stood there, with his shirt unbuttoned, his abs glistening from the sweat we had just created. He looked godly in this moment. He quickly took off his jeans, his member almost throbbing to be let out. I gulped as he looked bigger than anything I’d ever seen.

He lowered himself down, and kissed me passionately, still hungry for more. My hands roamed freely, helping him take off his shirt completely. With this motion I quickly flipped us, wanting to be on top of him. I begged, “Let me please you, Colby.”

Impressed at my strength, Colby had stifled a moan as I started to leave hungry kisses down his chest, until I got to his boxer line. I looked up at him through my lashes, as he nodded with approval, removing the clothing. His thick member throbbing. I gulped, taking in his size, he was fucking huge.

“Fuck.” I muttered as I teased him, licking up his shaft, keeping eye contact with him as he propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look. I wrapped my hand around his member, kissing the tip.

I began to take him in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down and sucking slightly, wanting him to feel euphoric. His sweet moans filled my ears, making me work harder for him. Wanting to make him feel better than ever. “You’re such a good girl, Y/N.”

Seeing his eyes roll back as his shaft touched the back of my throat was enough to make me moan, knowing I was doing a good job. I was a good girl. His good girl. Colby’s hand traveled to the back of my head, grabbing my hair slightly bobbing my head. It felt so good. “You like that baby girl?”

I nodded quickly, not wanting to disappoint, all of a sudden feeling really submissive. As I carried on sucking it for a little longer, Colby pulled my hair back and away from him gently making me look up at him, he muttered, “C’mere baby.”

I did as he asked, waiting for what was to come. Colby got on top of me, his chain dangling infront of my face, his arms looking as muscular as ever as he towered over me, I felt completely under his spell and I was more than ready for what he was about to do to me.

He caressed my breasts, with both hands as I started to breath heavier, trying to keep it together. His eyes flickering towards mine and my bare chest, he muttered sweet nothings as he latched onto them, kissing them. Sucking them. I couldn’t help but moan at the way his tongue moved against my body, “Colby!”

“Shh, baby. You sound so fucking good, but we can’t get in trouble now, can we?” He muttered against my breasts, knowing full well we’d get in big trouble as clients weren’t supposed to be touchy let alone all over each other. He was far from being a client, but I would definitely get kicked out immediately for this behaviour. I groaned out of annoyance, frustrated with pleasure. He began to bite them ever so gently, putting my hand over my mouth to shuffle my moans. Colby had made him way down to my panties, asking for approval, granting him access. He swiftly took them off with ease, “Fuck you’re so perfect.”

“Are you ready baby?” He huskily marvelled, admiring the mess he had made me into, touching himself. His hair stuck to his forehead a little, his muscles glistening all over, his tattoos made his aura dark and mysterious but he seemed like a complete utter dream. In response, all I could manage was a swift nod, with impatient, hungry eyes.

He lined his huge member up with my already wet folds, awaiting the small pain that came with it. He came down closer to me, kissing me roughly and pushing himself into me at the same time, causing me to melt into his mouth, both moaning loudly. My hands traveled up to his hair, getting tangled in his locks. His motions were euphoric and heavenly, making my back arch with every move. Colby moaned roughly into my neck, kissing it and nipping at the skin with his teeth, leaving slight bruises as he trailed.

“Fuck, you feel so good Y/N.” My nails scraped along down his back, marking him as equally as he did me. He couldn’t keep back his moans as they sounded through my body. Unwinding. As is pace quickened, my orgasm started to grow nearer. I couldn’t hold it any longer, he was making me feel pleasure like I’ve never felt it before, “Colby, I’m so close!”

“Fuck baby, don’t come until I tell you too. I know you’re a good girl. My good, good girl.” He quickened his pace and became a little rougher with his thrusts, making me into a moaning mess. He couldn’t bring himself to tell me to be quiet anymore, he loved the way he was making me feel. He moved so he could put my legs over his shoulders, making my climax come quicker, “Colby, please!”

“Oh baby, I’m gonna come too.” He muffled tensely, his thrusts getting sloppier, I looked at him with pleading eyes, muttering and begging, Colby looked at me with pleading eyes, “Come for me beautiful.”

With that, I had unleashed my orgasm, coming undone at his command, moaning his name as I rode out my high. I started toying with my breasts to get him closer to his climax, wanting nothing more but the warm fill, “Colby, please come. Please!”

Not even a moment later he came undone too, filling me up with his come. We were both messes, moaning into each other as he collapsed on top of me, pecking my neck as he collected himself. He rolled over to the next of me, putting his arm underneath his head and one out for me to lay on. We were both panting like sick dogs. I propped myself up on my elbow, my head resting against my palm.

“You know, I’ve never seen you in here before.” I muttered, playing with a strand of my hair. I pondered it, because he was a beautiful man, a young man. A man that didn’t suit these kind of places.

“I thought you’d ask, it’s a good friend of mines birthday and we all thought it would be a good surprise to bring him here.” Colby chuckled, looking into my eyes. He reached out for my hand and placed it on his chest, his heart still erratic. “You are beautiful though, Y/N. I meant what I said.”

“Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” I giggled, him faking a hurt expression, giving me a pearly white smile, something that made me melt on the spot. His crinkles next to his eyes matching perfectly with his happy looks.

“A pretty girl like you, how’d you end up here?” He looked at me sincerely, wanting to know me a little better. I didn’t think he’d ask, making me feel slightly embarrassed that I have money issues.

“Oh it’s nothing, just- university won’t pay itself, you see.” I said with honesty. glancing down at my hands down, playing with them.

“University? That’s incredible, I can’t imagine how expensive that must be, I guess I can understand.” I looked up at him, he seemed genuine and I melted into his gaze, I gave him a small smile. Appreciating his kind words. Mouthing a ‘thank you’.

“You know,” propping himself up to really look at me this time, grabbing the two glasses of champagne on the table. Handing one to me, “I would really like to take you out, get you away from here eventually.”

“I would really love that.” I blushed, him smirking in return.

“It wouldn’t be classed as inappropriate to maybe cheers to this? A new beginning, potentially?” Him raising a glass.

I giggled, feeling a sense of happiness and fulfilment. Cuddled up with a man you feel like you’ve known forever, chatting, getting to know each other and just sealed a date with, raising a toast to a new beginning. “Cheers.”

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

a/n- omg I had no plan for this just a thought, one thing led to another and BOOM. hope you enjoyed lol I never know how to wrap up endings

stay sweet x

#colby brock #colby smut #sam and colby #xplr #colby brock smut

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steddiealltheway · 2 years

Text

My steddie brain rot is going crazy today.

But the trope of Steve going on so many failed dates at the same place. But Eddie is the waiter every time.

He makes snarky remarks, always is quick to supply a lie for Steve to get away from the ones with too many red flags (Eddie slips him a napkin explaining them every time on his way out, and Steve always trusts him), picks Steve’s spirits up when he strikes out yet again, and always slips him free dessert.

After a particularly horrible date - in which the girl shows up an hour late and thirty minutes before they close and proceeds to only talk about her ex the whole time, running out when he sees him pass by - Eddie allows Steve to stay after closing and gives him extra fries and a slice of chocolate cake.

When Steve’s head thuds against the counter, Eddie comments, “Maybe you’re cursed.”

Steve shoots back, “Maybe this place is cursed.”

Eddie is silent for a few moments and leans over the counter he’s cleaning to whisper, “Maybe I’m cursing you.”

Steve laughs and throws a fry at Eddie who yelps and demands he pays for his cake this time. When the laughter dies down, Steve finds himself actually considering a new location for his dates.

“Hey, Eddie, where do you take all your dates?”

Eddie freezes and looks at Steve. He shakes his head and continues wiping off the counter. “All my dates,” he mutters in what sounds like disbelief. Steve can hardly believe it.

“You… you don’t go on dates?” Steve questions.

Eddie shoots him a look and says, “Steve, I don’t know where you got that impression, but I certainly do notttt.” He circles around the counter and begins putting chairs on top of the tables.

“Why not? You’re funny, kind, really creative with your lies, have a steady supply of free cake…” Steve trails off as Eddie laughs. He blurts out, “And you’re not so bad on the eyes either.”

Eddie’s laughter abruptly stops. He slowly approaches Steve and asks, “Steve Harrington, are you saying you find me attractive?”

Steve easily flirts back, “Maybe I am.” And what the hell was that? This isn’t one of his dates.

Eddie’s cheeks turns red and he looks down shaking his head. He replies, “Well, if you’re looking for a new place for a date, I would suggest the diner across the street. So you can come crawling back to me when it fails.”

Steve throws yet another fry at him and exclaims, “Another failed one!”

“You’re right! I won’t be close enough to curse you!”

Steve remains in the diner until Eddie closes up. His stomach hurts from laughing so hard, and he entirely forgets about the failed date. But he comes up with a plan for the next one.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Steve shows up at the diner across the street with low hopes for this date.

Surprisingly enough, she shows up on time and is really funny and beautiful and…

Steve looks out the window trying to catch a flash of big curly hair in the diner across the street.

“Steve?” The girl, Jessie, asks. “You okay? You seem… distracted.”

“Yeah, of course,” he replies shaking the feeling that something is off.

The date goes… really well. And Steve isn’t happy about it. And he doesn’t know why he’s not happy until he finishes his meal and gets the check… with no free dessert.

Eddie is what’s off. The thought hits him suddenly, and Steve doesn’t know what to do. The perfect girl is literally right in front of him, but more than anything he wants to run across the street and see Eddie.

Eddie had cursed him.

“Steve, are you okay?” Jessie asks so kindly, and really she’s perfect. But she’s not Eddie.

“I’m so sorry…” Steve begins.

Jessie cuts him off, “Someone else, right? It’s okay really. I’ve been there, too. Just… go after her.” She smiles sweetly at Steve and squeezes his hand.

Who the fuck is she, and please be attracted to girls so Steve can set her up with Robin.

“Thank you,” Steve says leaving money on the table, he kisses her on the forehead and thanks her again. Then he’s racing out the doors, darting across the street, apologizing to a car that has to slam on the breaks and swerve to not hit him.

He races into the diner, and the bell obnoxiously rings as the door slams open. Luckily, there’s only one couple in the place, and they’re in the process of leaving. Or they were. Eddie dropped their change all over the ground when Steve startled everyone.

Steve helps to scoop up the money, apologizing and awkwardly waving as the couple leaves. When the door closes, Eddie slightly smiles asking, “Another failed date, huh?”

“No actually,” Steve replies.

Eddie’s face drops and his knuckles turn white around the money he’s gripping. “Oh. Well, congratulations,” Eddie says monotonously, shoving the money into the register and slamming it shut. “Unfortunately, we’re closing soon, so I’ll have to usher you out.”

“Eddie-”

“Leave,” Eddie says, not looking up.

“It didn’t work out!” Steve yells. “It didn’t work out. And it should’ve. Because she was everything. She was perfect. She was everything I wanted.”

“Glad to hear that-”

Steve interrupts, “But it didn’t matter because she wasn’t you!”

Eddie finally looks up at him. “What?”

“The whole time, I was expecting to look up and see you. And when I didn’t I was looking out the window trying to see you across the street and the damn glare wouldn’t let me. And then I was expecting free dessert subconsciously, and it never came!” Steve rambles out running his hands through his hair.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he tilts his head. “You wanted me to be there for… my free dessert?”

Steve groans, “No, Eddie. I wanted you to be there on the other side of the table. I wanted Jessie to be you.”

Eddie stares at him for a few moments and then slowly breaks out into a grin. “So I really did curse you?”

“You did, you asshole,” Steve bites back laughing.

Eddie leans across the counter and says, “So, what if I told you that if I were to go on a date, I would go to Enzo’s? And that I’m free tomorrow night.”

“I would say it’s a date,” Steve says leaning in.

Eddie hesitates and says, “Woah now. A gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date.”

Steve replies, “Apparently I’m not a gentleman then.”

Eddie meets him in the middle and gently kisses him, breaking it only when he can’t help but smile widely. “You’re going to get me fired.”

“Definitely now that I have an unlimited supply of free cake.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and says, “Which comes directly out of my paycheck.”

“Eddie! You didn’t tell me you were paying for it!”

Eddie smiles. “Sounds like you’re paying for a lot of our dates then.”

Steve comes around the counter and hooks his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Someone’s presumptuous.”

“And that someone needs to close the diner,” Eddie shoots back quickly giving Steve a peck on the cheek.

Steve helps him close up, wondering how it took him so long to see what was right in front of him.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #every time I think I’m going to write two sentences #two sentences turn into a ficlet #every. time.

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 11 months

Note

Could I just like make a request about the jojos having a darling who does literally everything to stay away. Like they come up with the dumbest excuses or do dumb stuff just to stay away

woot woot, this’ll be my first thing with Jodio hopefully I can write him correctly before doing headcanons. Sort of more of a reaction thingy but hope it satisfies, since I’m trying to get back into a groove of things.

Jonathan

His heart flutters hearing you stumble on excuses, he can tell you’re lying but he doesn’t mention this. Though he finds it in your best interest to have someone looking out for you, in the end. Whatever little thing you busy yourself with, he finds a way to come around. Sometimes it just happens to align with his father’s request to fetch something. Just maybe he twists things around to something you like, even if it only keeps you around for a few extra seconds.

Joseph

The biggest trickster there is, it’s near impossible to try and get out of anything with Joseph. “Mmm, you already used that one” He gives you a quick wink. He knows where you hang out mostly, and can easily tell if you’re not the “ruffian” type. If you’re a bit snarky yourself, he does his best to make you slip up. Or if he’s really determined waste enough time that you don’t have to bother with that other “task” you had to do.

Jotaro

Blunt. To put it lightly, Yare Yare leaves his lips as soon as you stumble through an excuse. He knows how efficiently you may or may not get things done. Anything you’re usually not fond of makes him raise an eyebrow (immediate suspicion if it’s possibly just to impress some other person). It almost feels like an interrogation when he asks the sudden interest in whatever you spilled out. Forget trying to do anything dumb, fib or otherwise he’s not letting you do it. Even if you do manage to slip off and go out on your own, Jotaro is around somewhere.

Josuke

Similar to Joseph he’s pretty on top of silly excuses, because he’s probably made up a thing or two himself. The best course of action for him is making up an excuse himself to get into whatever you made up on the fly. If you ask, he tells you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. Even if it’s obvious he’s lying to you, he makes it nigh impossible to leave “hey that’s what you said you were doing”.

Giorno

He definitely knows the ins and outs about you, so lying won’t likely get you very far. Besides every little excuse you do make, he seems to always have a counter for. It’s almost freaky, if you don’t know how much Giorno negotiates. Though there’s times he let’s you go on the basis of a flimsy lie. Rest assured though something goes missing and it always leads back to him. Anything out of the ordinary for you is promptly taken care of, “That’s a rather interesting way to try to keep away from me” He’d tell you in a friendly tone.

Jolyne

Like her father she can be pretty blunt herself, even insists it’s not a great idea to stray too far. The little excuses you make are intriguing to her, but she counters with her own plans. Sometimes she’ll get you lipstick and see if you’ll wear it out later, depending on what you told her you were supposedly doing that day. Little runarounds with you keep her on her toes making sure you don’t run off. Simple things like getting you to spend extra time with her, with her own little excuses. Eventually there might be a time your handcuffed to her bed, for a day or two. “Don’t you ever get tired of making up stuff? It’d just be easier being here with me you know, I’ve got your back”

Johnny

He’s rather scary when you make up something on the fly to avoid him. His blue eyes bore into your soul, unless he uses spin there’s usually nothing much he can do. As he improves however, the space between the two of you slowly shrinks. Johnny makes it certain one way or another your attention is drawn back to himself. He notes everything you do, so if you don’t “have” something he either has an extra or absolutely knows you have an item. Similar likely happens with your horses habits. If he’s determined he manages to pin you under him. He merely mumbles “Stay” at a little too close for comfort distance.

Josuke (Part 8)

He’s curious at some of the excuses you make here and there. Or hearing about things you’d usually wouldn’t do. He’s not dumb obviously, so he asks if there’s a reason you’re avoiding him. The possible roundabout answers you give, don’t really satisfy. It is cute you’re nervous about it though. He may just simply ignore some of the things you tell him to try and keep your distance. Josuke wants to see you anyway, if he can’t he might try and call just to test if you’re at a certain place. “There’s nothing that can convince me to keep away” He’d tell you at one point or another.

Jodio

“Li~ar, liar~” At least this is what happens when you come up with something on the fly. Admittedly he’s busy with trying to get rich, but since he likes you on a level enough to significantly care. The things you tell him don’t quite match up. It’s not really hard to tell you’re avoiding him, he might even put that out bluntly. He’ll show up randomly when you least expect it, he might swipe something from a friend or delay a meetup somehow. “I don’t really care about whoever else you hang out with ya’ kno~w, it only should be a me and you thing”.

“Just don’t get used to thinking you can avoid me all the time”

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vodika-vibes · 2 months

Note

👋

Hi Vod'ika! I adore your writing. I've only just come across it recently, but I especially love your Crosshair & Echo stuff 🥰

If you're still taking requests, would you mind doing something along these lines? Totally okay if not, there's no obligation!

I'd love to see Crosshair with a crush or pining - but he doesn't really realise it. It takes his brothers pointing things out to him to make him aware. With a non-Jedi fem!reader pretty please (who of course reciprocates his feelings).

Bonus points for brothers and omega being good wing-siblings?

Extra bonus points for them to all be happy and healthy together living their best lives with an alive Tech?

Sending you all the love 💕

The Other Side

Summary: Crosshair doesn’t have a crush. He’s above such things. Unluckily, his brothers and kid sister don’t agree.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1035

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: I wrote this without being on coffee, after being very sick all weekend, so I hope it's not too bad. Happy reading~

“You should ask her on a date!” Omega says cheerfully from where she’s sitting on a stone wall near where Crosshair is working on the speeder. This is normally Tech’s job, but Crosshair needed something to do with his hands, and Tech is on a date with Phee.

He sighs and pulls away to look at the petite blonde, “What are you talking about?”

Omega grins at him, “The pretty doctor. You should ask her out.”

Crosshair frowns, “No.”

“Oh, come on!” Omega hops off the wall and almost bounces over to Crosshair’s side, “You have a thing for her. We all see it.”

“You’re seeing things then,” Crosshair counters, “She’s a friend, no more and no less.”

She crosses her arms, “Well then, you won’t care that I invited her to dinner.”

“Does Hunter know that you’re harassing the Islands only Pediatric Surgeon?”

Omega opens her mouth to argue with him, only to pause when a soft laugh reaches their ears, “Well now, I can’t say that I’m feeling harassed. And I do prefer not having to cook.”

Crosshair’s gaze flickers towards the walkway in front of the house he shares with his siblings, and a small smile lifts his lips. “Lucky for you, then, that Wrecker loves cooking. And he always makes too much.”

“Too much food is never a problem,” She counters with a teasing smile as she steps around the fence and walks up to him and Omega, “I do appreciate the invite, Omega.”

For her part, Omega beams at the doctor, “I remember you mentioning that you spend most of your time alone, and thought you might appreciate it.”

“That is true,” she shrugs, “to all of it.”

Crosshair shoots her a look, “What’s wrong, Doc? No Boytoy for you to spend your time with?”

“Alas, I only have interest in one Boy and he doesn’t seem all that interested in being my toy.” She wanders to Crosshair and peers over his shoulder, “What are you working on?”

“You know speeders?” He asks with an arched brow.

“I know they’re supposed to go forward and back.” She counters with a grin.

Crosshair shakes his head and lightly taps the Doctor’s forehead, “You have that big brain and you never bothered to learn about speeders?”

“My big brain is dedicated to medicine.” She leans against his side, “So teach me.”

“Do I look like a teacher, kitten?”

“Mm. You don’t look anything like my university professors, no. They were much less good-looking.” She counters with a laugh.

Crosshair pauses and the only reason he doesn’t drop anything is from sheer stubbornness, “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs again, “Come on, teach me.”

“I’m not teaching you how to take care of a speeder. This is Tech’s thing, not mine.”

A pout crosses her face and she drops her chin on his shoulder, “Please Crosshair?”

“How about I teach you how to shoot instead?”

Her pout becomes deeper, and then she grins, “Deal.”

“Oh thank kriff.”

“I heard that!”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t, seeing as you’re using me as a chin rest.” Crosshair counters snarkily.

“You’re not a very good chin rest, you’re very bony.”

“So sorry for having a working skeletal system.”

“Apology accepted.” She pulls away and favors him with a bright smile, “I’m just going to head inside, is that alright?” She asks Crosshair, and Omega, who is watching with a growing grin on her face.

“We’re eating outside, actually.” Hunter calls from the porch, “Around back. Omega, come help me get things set up.”

“Oh, but—”

Hunter glances at Crosshair and then over to the Doctor, a small grin on his face, before he looks at Omega, “Now, Meg.”

“Oh, if you need any help—” Crosshair’s pretty Doctor starts, only to be cut off when Hunter waves her concerns away.

“You’re a guest. Crosshair, entertain her.”

“What am I, a clown?”

“You look like one.” Hunter counters, and then he dodges the filthy rag that Crosshair throws at him, “Be nice! We have company! You don’t want her thinking that you’re a violent criminal do you?”

“I hate you.”

“I’m okay with that. Come on, Meg.”

“Coming~”

Crosshair rubs his face with a heavy sigh, “Right, so I’m supposed to entertain you until dinner starts.” He wishes the others were here…but he’s also glad that they’re not. After all, all of his brothers have been bugging him about asking her out for weeks now.

It’s beginning to become infuriating.

“I have an idea!”

“I’m not pulling out my rifle for you to learn how to use it.” Crosshair warns.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” She says brightly, as she moves so she’s standing in front of him.

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

She grins a bright expression that makes his heart skip a beat. And then she steps closer until she’s in his personal space. She raises on her toes and lightly brushes her lips against his, and then she takes a step back, a nervous smile on her face.

Crosshair blinks at her, twice.

She looks even more nervous, absently twisting her hair between her fingers.

He’s genuinely speechless. The sensation of her lips, soft and warm, pressing against his seems to be the only thing he can think of. And he can’t help but think that it wasn’t enough. That he wants more.

“...I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—” She says as she averts her gaze, “It’s just…I thought that…” She trails off, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Crosshair says, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to cup her cheeks and he tilts her head so that she’s looking at him, “Do it again.”

She blinks, “What?”

“You heard me,”

“You don’t have to—” Crosshair cuts off her sentence with a heavy press of his lips against hers, and he presses himself against her as her arms come up to wrap around his neck.

Seems like his brothers were right about this whole thing, Crosshair thinks as he backs her up to sit on the hood of the speeder. He’s never going to tell them that, though.

And then her tongue slides against his lips, and Crosshair can’t think of anything at all.

#star wars #tbb #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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elsfairy · 11 months

Note

emi my love, can i request a scream! ellie or abby for halloween? i’m planning on writing one as well but i’d love to see how you’d pull it off. (amazingly ofc🤭)

oh my.... the way you’re trusting me with this..... 😳 me lowkey not knowing if you wanted smut, but we all know im a whore for it. for you, i did my best so i hope this is what you wanted, baby 💗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — a. anderson

Tonight was a cold evening, colder than usual, especially with it being Halloween. You had spent most of your afternoon going into the evening, slowly but perfectly getting together a little candlelight dinner for your girlfriend, Abby. It was your 2 year anniversary and you wanted tonight's dinner to be a lot more special than when it was your one year. Thankfully you hadn’t had kids and their parents knocking on your door, smiling and asking for candy so that gave you even more time to pick out the perfect outfit, find the best makeup looks and finish it off with the sweetest perfume.

There was only one slight problem in the plan you had ready for tonight . . . she was late. In fairness to her, she had to work a long shift tonight so you knew her schedule was going to be a little crazy but you only received the ‘i won’t be able to make it tonight’ text 30 minutes ago. You were defeated, you felt stupid and you were exhausted from spending so much time on your feet, trying to make something perfect for her, for you both, only for it to be ruined because she had to work late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but it was weird because she promised she would be here. She even said she had an extra surprise for you, so why the sudden change?

At first, you were waiting for another text saying she was just kidding and that she would be home soon, but it never came. You had gotten tired of watching the minutes tick by on the clock in the kitchen from where you sat in the living room, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped the napkin you had resting on your lap, onto the table and pushed your chair out to make your way to the bedroom.

Your hand had just reached the door handle of your bedroom when the sound of your phone, the one you left on the dining room table, had started to ring which had you turning around, sprinting to it, hoping and praying that it was Abby and she had somehow managed to get someone to cover her shift to be home with you.

“Hello?” Your voice cheerful.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice, one you didn’t recognise came from the other side of the phone.

The smile you had on your face dropped, frustration and sadness took over quickly. Rolling your eyes at the stupid question, you continued your way to your bedroom. “I’m not in the mood for your questions” came your snarky, bitter reply. “How’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, c’mon everyone has a favourite scary movie”

“I don’t. I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit”

“Is that why you look so miserable in such a pretty dress?”

The air was suddenly knocked from your lungs, your body turning around abruptly as your eyes were looking everywhere. Confused about how this stranger, who you’ve never met, knows exactly what you’re wearing and just how fuckin’ miserable you look. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but know that my girlfriend is on the way home from work, and i won’t hesitate to call the police. Do you hear me?”

Not wanting to entertain this douche any longer than you already had, you hurriedly hung up the phone, almost throwing it with how frustrated you were with how ruined this night had become for you. All you wanted was a nice night with the woman you loved, eating something you both adore and instead, you had some idiot prank calling you at your worst. It was indeed a shitty night and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath and sleep the night away.

Your body had just reached the end of the bed when the sound of the floorboards beneath you had creaked. The only fucked up floorboard in the apartment that you had been telling Abby for months to try and sort out. It wasn’t your foot that caused it, you always avoided that one out of habit when your girl has been working all day, and tried to avoid waking her up in the early hours of the morning. The hair on the back of your neck stood quickly, and your body on it’s own accord turned just slightly to spot the figure— a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in your doorway. Face covered with a mask you thought was familiar but couldn’t really name right now, and their head tilted, just watching you.

For some reason you didn’t feel panic, your heart was racing sure, but the longer you both just watched each other, you didn’t feel any need to instantly throw something at your intruder. However, the panic raised in you slightly when the figure took one step forward as you took one back. A subtle yet soft gasp had slipped past your lips when your back gently knocked into the wall, your hand trying to grip something to stop yourself from falling flat on your face. “Careful, wouldn’t want you falling over on me now”

The voice sounded like one you had recognised but it was so muffled by the current mask, it was making it hard for you to understand and put your finger on it. Your heart picked up the pace and started beating a little faster, where the fuck was Abby? Why were you not screaming? Trying to push them away? Something about them seemed so . . . comforting but maybe you were just slightly delusional from the half glass of wine you had.

You hadn’t realized you had zoned out slightly until the feeling of fingers grazing your jaw, pulled you out of your trance, your lips part at realizing just how close they are to you. The feeling of them being so familiar with you still resides in your chest, and it isn’t until you hear that fuckin’ breathless chuckle that your knees buckle.

“Abby?”

“You really think i would stand you up on our anniversary, baby?”

You simply couldn’t focus on what she was saying because you were too focused on the hand she had groping your tits, somehow already pulling your dress down to get a view of them, her fingers pinching at your already hardened nipples, while her other hand is sliding up your dress, already slipping into your panties. With a groan she leans more into you, pushing you more into the wall, the feeling of your slick covering her fingers. “Jesus Christ, you get so fuckin’ wet. This turn you on that much?”

With the way her fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, spreading your slick over your folds, and how good her hand was on your tit, you couldn’t form one correct sentence, and the only thing that you were letting out was whimpers and whines into her shoulder, nails bluntly digging into her arm. “wanna see you, please? please let me see you Abs” You beg softly, your back arching off the wall when those thick fingers tease your hole.

“Yeah? c’mon then pretty girl, take it off for me”

The second those words came from her mouth, your hands moved quickly, gripping the bottom of the mask, and pulling it off swiftly. Her blonde locks cascade down her shoulders, flyways framing her face, and your heart melted at the sight of her blue eyes looking at you with such a soft look, and a grin making it’s way onto her face. “Knew you were freaky, but not this freaky”

Before you had time to defend yourself or bite back at her words, she slipped her fingers inside your cunt, your walls instantly trapping them and the action caused her to grunt into your neck, while you were gasping out her name softly at the intrusion. The sounds leaving you were driving her crazy, and sending her brain into a frenzy. You always made the prettiest sounds, and she would keep doing everything possible to hear them.

Resting her forehead against yours, the squelching sound your cunt was making rang through her ears loudly and she could feel her own cunt clenching around nothing at how good you felt, how good you sounded, and how pretty you begged “Say my name, baby” She whispered breathlessly against you.

“Abby . . ”

Rubbing your clit with her thumb, you almost felt winded at the extra attention, and Abby was quick to remove her hand from your tits, to wrap her arm around your waist to keep you up, and steady. You had to use all your remaining strength because her touch always did make you fuzzy and light-heade, to cling onto her, while her eyes darted between your pretty lips that parted with such soft moans, and down where she watched her fingers disappear inside your cunt.

Your hand had caught her wrist quickly when her thrusts sped up just slightly, grinding yourself into her touch, your legs fell even weaker when she chuckled in your ear, her fingers still pumping in and out of you at a fast but gentle pace.

“Good, because it’s the only thing you’ll be screaming tonight”

#ᥫ᭡ my dani angel #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson fic

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aihaitahm · 1 year

Text

pheromones

cw: fem! afab! reader, use of princess, dove, darling. pure nsfw. mndi.

a/n: sorry i interchanged cologne and perfume alot. hope u like it though! :3

character: blade

it has been a week since you’ve been on a mission with silverwolf which meant you havent seen your boyfriend ren. everyone knows how he has an extremely soft and loving side just for you and god fobid if anyone hurt you, he would literally hunt and kill them. but what they didnt expect was how grumpy and extra irritable he was when you were gone. his once nonchalant remarks may turn to snarky, sour ones if they annoyed him enough. he didnt like it when other people bandaged him. he would always find time to call you and actually visibly pout when you were busy. kafka teased him because shes never seen someone like him pout like a school girl waiting for their crush. in which blade mutters her a ‘mind your own goddamn business…’

he was starting to miss your touch and how adorable you were whenever you were under him. youre so confident and cocky when you retort back at his playful jabs but a crying babbling mess when he nibbles on your cute nipples. using his hands to jerk to your used underwear wasnt simply enough. your absence didnt really help in general. he cant sleep very well and he finds peace in your warmth and love while sleeping.

after long dreaded days of texting and calling, you finally arrived. you put on colonge/perfume with intense pheromones you got from one of the small shops during your journey, maybe to tease him and put it to a test. putting some on your nape, between your breasts and your thighs.

he was extremely happy when he saw you. blade couldnt show it outwardly but his aura significantly changes. he was quick to hug your frame and kiss you on the lips and immediately help you with your belongings and what not. jbringing you to your shared apartment while listening to you talk about the mission. he misses your voice and he senses your strong scent of yours and it was driving him internally crazy. he smirks at what your silly little plan was but you know what, it worked.

“bladie, whats so funny-“

he suddenly pulled you into a deep, hungry kiss. leading you to your shared bedroom, as he passionately nibbled at your lips. blade holds the back of your head gently, making sure you fall on the soft mattress properly. his hands all over your body as he explored every ethereal part of you.

you felt so vulnerable compared to him, it got you weak in the knees. trying to catch your breath was hard when all blade did was smother you with his animalistic hunger for you. you moaned through the kiss as you felt his knee go in between your legs, rubbing your thin panties under your short skirt.

“r-ren….!”

“i miss you a lot darling, but you do know teasing me with that new cologne of yours, is like playing with fire? or was that really your plan?” blade whispered in which he felt you clenched, he knows how his voice makes you crazy. he continually grinded his knee on your cloth pussy.

“no… i just happened to b-buy it because it smelled good.” you lied. you felt his intense, dark red eyes ready to pounce at his prey. you were grinding back and forth on his knee until he stopped you, looking at you darkly with a smirk.

“i hope you know good girls dont lie and if they do they have to apologize and beg.”

———

minutes passed by and you found yourself a mess, trying to make yourself cum by riding on your lover. he has been denying your orgasm and just sitting there nibbling at your nape. you were stubborn and refused to beg. it drove you crazy when he would refuse to let you cum while he bit hard in the areas you sprayed your cologne at. purple marks all over your thighs, nape and especially your chest.

“come on now… are you that stubborn? i thought you missed me hm? oh your mad because i denied your precious orgasms? maybe if you didnt lie princess, i couldve fucked you like how you liked it.” blade growled as he surprisingly slammed you down on his big cock. he loved the feeling of your hot, cute pussy around him while your wearing that short ass skirt just for him.

“ren… ppewase…”

you moaned a gibberish answer as that strong wave of his thrust was almost enough to make you cum. feeling his cock deep inside you was enough to make your toes curl and arch your back, combined with his sultry voice on your ear. he felt you writhe in his touch as he played with your nipples and nibbling at your ear, talking to you in a such a sweet dirty language.

“im sorry what was that?”

“i said… please… f-fuck me.”

“you know you should beg like you fucking mean it.”

“no…” you whimpered stubbornly, refusing to let him win. you steadied yourself as you tried to hold yourself in place and tried riding his cock. soon enough, you got tired again as you started tearing up. you just wanted to cum all over your sweet hot boyfriend!

“please ren…. i need you please fuck me… dont stop please i apologize im sorry for lying i did want to tease you on purpose, pleaseplease just fuck me and dont stop. please!”

“see that wasnt so hard princess? such a fucking slut, wearing this short skirt and wearing an intense pheromone perfume. dont complain if its too much.”

ren flipped you over as he pounded you into a mating press. sucking on your nipples as he held your knees to your chest while he thrusts in you in a fast, hard pace. hearing your sweet, high piched moans is music to his ears. he felt you tightened up as he continued with his cruel pace.

“ha…hah! cumming! cumming!~ r-ren! ” you screamed. feeling your body twitch as you felt blade hold your hands and not faltering at his pace. continuing to overstimulate you as all you could do was take in his big cock. feeling the wetness of your orgasm fall on your skirt, making a puddle beneath it.

“mmm, youre taking me so fucking good, dove. come on~ keep cumming until you cant princess.” your eyes rolled to the back and you were clawing at whatever your holding, drooling all over your mouth as you babble nonsense. clenching and cumming again and again since his thrusts wont ever stop at the moment. all you could think of is your lover. you pulled him into a kiss and he reciprocated back.

blade enjoyed seeing this sight as it drove him close to his orgasm, growling at your ear as he continously thrust messily into your sweet opening making you cum again and again.

he finally came in your cute pretty cunt. heavy breathing occured in the hot room. the smell of sex and of you was his favorite. he observed his work of art as he kissed you gently all over your body, muttering an i love you and welcome back home.

#honkai star rail #blade x reader #hsr blade #blade hsr #honkai blade #honkai x reader #honkai star rail smut

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nathanbatemanfucker · 9 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 5: To Atomize

summary: nathan leaves his house to tell you he loves you.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, mentions of sick/dying parent, pining, dom/sub dynamics, mid love confessions, oral (m + f receiving), p in v sex, creampie, squirting, NATHAN’S SO IN LOVE AND SIMPY AND FREE

wc: 6,138

an: we've sadly reached the end of the main story. thank you thank you for all the support on this fic. a girl watches ex machina once and suddenly is writing 20+k for an asshole simp. i do plan to write the extras fairly quickly (the next month or so) and they'll vary in length. i hope y'all stick around for more of them.

You and Nathan are doing work out on the couch, your legs thrown over his. It’s all very domestic, something the both of you could get used to.

He doesn’t look up when he asks, “That date out— do you still want it?”

“I do but honestly, I don’t think it’s realistic. You like being out here, Emma and Phillipa shouldn’t be at home by themselves for so long— not to mention my mom.”

“You don’t talk about your mom,” He observes, his eyes rising from his laptop to look at you.

You continue your work as you talk, “There’s too much to talk about. And nothing at all.”

“And the vagueness returns,” There’s more bite in his voice than he wants there to be, but he can’t help it.

You notice immediately— going rigid like stone before you fix him with an empty gaze. “She’s dying. She can’t work. She sleeps most days. In the mornings before I come here, I read to her and when I get home I tell her I love her and kiss her goodnight. Is that specific enough for you, Mr. Bateman?”

Nathan just looks at you, his eyes for once, void of any emotion to tell you how he’s feeling. Nathan 3 months ago would have stormed away, or said something snarky. But, he just keeps looking at you. The silence makes you uncomfortable and your words replay in your mind over and over, guilt building each time. Your mother’s a tender subject, but Nathan is…more than anyone has ever been to you despite not making that clear to him. You open your mouth to apologize but he shushes, closing his laptop and then yours before he pulls you into his lap and holds you close.

He kisses at your temple, your forehead, your cheek, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

It shouldn’t catch you off guard, his affection and tenderness but it does. You melt into him even as your walls go up inside. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, honey. It’s not. Can you tell me what—“

“Cancer. Off and on since I was in high school.”

“You’ve been taking care of your sisters off and on since they were born?”

You shrug. It was true. In the moment, when you and your mother had made those decisions together— your father wishing and washing his way in and out of your lives whenever he felt like— they hadn’t seemed like a big deal. But, Nathan’s tone can’t help but make you realize how much you’d missed out on because of your duty to your family.

“Shit, honey.”

“It’s alright, Nathan,” You breathe. It’s not, it’s never been okay, but you’ve been telling yourself that for as long as you can remember.

“It’s not. You’re a good fucking woman. You and your family deserve better.”

“They do deserve better. My sisters don’t have a time remembering her like I do. Before she got sick. That’s fucked up isn’t it?”

“Yeah, baby, it is.” His hold on your tightens, a hand smoothing up and down your back. “Let me take you out for one night.”

“Nathan, I just said—“

He takes your jaw into his hands, intentional yet gentle with his grip as he guides you to look at him. Those big brown eyes are warm but firm. “We’ll do it in the city. I’ll pick you up from your apartment, you’ll be a phone call away. I’ll bring you home first thing in the morning. C’mon baby, you deserve a break. Let me give it to you.”

—

You agree to Nathan’s advances, like you always do these days. This date takes a lot of coordinating— but somehow it all turned out in your favor. Nathan jokes that it’s because of his god-like will. You’re just happy to take the breather when it’s presented to you. Emma gets invited to her first sleepover, Phillipa’s school is having a lock in. Somehow, Nathan had convinced you to accept him paying for one day of round the clock care for your mother so her usual nurse, Celia, could have a day off too.

You’re realizing that maybe you’re just as gone for him as he is for you. That you believe what he’s said about the depths of his feelings for you and maybe, you’re ready to take the next step and allow yourself to feel them openly for him too. How quickly the tide turns. How quickly Nathan had put in the effort to show how badly he wanted this— you. 3 months ago you could say with sincere surety that you did not like Nathan Bateman. And now…well you were sure you couldn’t deny loving him.

He tells you to dress formally— it lands you in your favorite black dress, the one that always gives you a boost of confidence and makes you feel good. You’re going to need if your racing thoughts about how your feelings have deepened are any indicator for how the evening will go. And maybe, once or twice, you’ve imagined Nathan peeling you out of it when your fingers slipped beneath your waistband late at night.

When you open the door, Nathan’s in a crisp white button down and slacks, a suit jacket draped over his shoulders— your knees nearly give out. So do his.

“Fuck me,” He breathes.

“My neighbors can hear you,” You remind him breathlessly, your face hot as his eyes slowly trace your figure.

“They should be lucky we’re not staying here or they’d hear a hell of a lot more. Fuck. You look incredible, baby.”

“My eyes are up here.”

“I’ve seen enough of those.”

“Nathan.”

“Can you fucking blame me? You walk out here in this tight little dress, one I imagine will stay on until after dinner, which is a fucking sin if you ask me. I’m giving commotion for the dress honey, it is what it is. Come here,” He reaches for you, snaking his arm around your waist so he can kiss you thoroughly. When he breaks the kiss he whispers, “Hi.”

Some of your nerves dissipate at his clear attraction to you, his sweetness. You smile against his mouth, bumping his nose with your own. “Hi. You look so handsome.”

“Thank you,” He murmurs, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Patience and good manners, you’re a changed man yet.”

“Does that mean if I ask to feel you up in the limo, you’ll say yes?”

“My neighbors, Nathan,” You remind him sternly, though you’re still smiling.

“Stuffy old fucks probably need a good show.”

“Walk.”

—

The limo ride to the nearby docks is 40 minutes with the traffic — and he helps you out like a gentleman, guiding you to a moderately sized boat. It’s impressive, all cream and blues, the

“Nathan, why is there a helicopter next to this boat?”

“In case you need to get home,” He says simply, if that explanation is enough.

“In case— we got here by limo.”

“You’re a phone call and a 10 minute helicopter ride away from your family.”

How were you gonna make it through dinner without dragging him to the ground so you could ruck up your dress and fuck him? He was saying all of this, doing all of this so nonchalantly, like it isn’t the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you.

He leans in, mouth and beard tickling your cheek as his whispers teasingly, “This is usually where people say thank you.”

You lean away, giggling a little. Your tone is suggestive, “What if I’m saving my thank you until after dinner?”

“Finally gonna show me some of those methods? It’s been driving me fucking nuts, honey.”

“Depends on how good you are.”

Nathan bites back a moan. This is all so fucking surreal. Being out of his home, being with you. Learning more and more about you, seeing you. Being yours and you being his. It’s more than he could’ve hoped for. He thought he would’ve fucked up by now— and he has, but you held a selfless amount of patience in your heart. He finds himself feeling…grateful? It’s an unfamiliar feeling, one he pushes away from a young age.

“Don’t be filthy before dinner,” He murmurs lowly.

“You‘ve been eyeing my tits since you picked me up,” You challenge.

“I’ve been appreciating them, there’s a difference. You ever been on a boat before?”

You eye the boat thoughtfully, “My mom used to take me on the ferry. Does that count?”

Nathan hums. He hasn’t ushered you onto the boat just yet, the two of you standing out on the docks in the salty breeze. It’s nice, being out in the fresh air like this, the water dark as the sun finishes dipping below the horizon. He’d anticipated much more anxiety given his hermit tendencies but it was just you and him and the few staff he’d hired to manage the boat.

“Do you want to name it?” He blurts out all of a sudden.

“Name what?”

“The boat,” He nods towards the ship.

You frown, confused. “You haven’t named the boat?”

“I bought it last week.”

“Nathan, did you buy this boat to take me out on a date?”

“Yes I did,” He says with no shame.

All of that will be an adjustment, the blasé way that he spends money— especially when he spends it on you. You know that he has a fuck ton of it but still; you’ve never lived a life of luxury.

“Do all employees get this sign-on bonus?” You tease.

“Hush, cheeky girl. Name the boat.”

You grow thoughtful, and that thoughtfulness quickly melts into a melancholic, wistful feeling. You think about your mom. How she’s been swayed back and forth by the tide of life, doing her best to float above it all. It would be nice wouldn’t it, to name something after the woman you love most?

“Boats are named after strong women. So I think…Tiana,” You murmur, voice full of emotion. You clear your throat quickly, hoping he doesn’t notice.

But Nathan’s obsessed with you— and now that you’ve let him in, he can sense every push and pull. He maneuvers you so that your back is flush with his front. “I like it. Tiana…is that your mother?”

You don’t trust your voice. You simply hum, nodding a little bit as you press back against him.

He squeezes you tighter, “It’s perfect, baby. Absolutely fucking perfect.

He cups your jaw with one hand, guiding your gaze to his. He’s never seen you nonverbal like this before, never seen sadness in your eyes like this. It makes his chest ache. He guides your mouth to his, kissing you with gentle reverence you never would’ve guessed he was capable of until recently.

Nathan just holds you, letting you melt against him in silence for an undetermined amount of time. His worry grows. “Do you want to call the nurse before we sit down for dinner? Emma? Phillipa?”

Finally, you speak. “No. No, it’s alright. I spend the entire day away from all of them when I’m working for you— I can do this.”

“Just say the word, okay, sweetheart?”

You lean in to give him a soft peck of appreciation, “Yes, I will. Thank you, Nathan.”

Dinner is much more elaborate than it had to be— but this is Nathan you’re talking about, a man with practically the entire world at his fingertips. Of course a 10 course meal makes sense to him. Not that you’re complaining about a personal sized crawl through Italy; breads and antipasto, pastas of all sorts, wines that are perfectly paired, and to end your favorite dessert from the first time the two of you shared a meal together. Despite his underestimating himself and his chaste manner, you think that Nathan is good at romance. He’s great at romance. By the time you’re finishing the last bite, you’re warm and full, a little buzzed and most importantly— needy for him.

Your entire body is craving his. You’ve denied your desires and his for long enough. You need him, you feel like you might go insane with lust— with love, if you don’t have him.

“Are we sleeping here?”

“There’s a suite downstairs, or there’s a hotel nearby I reserved. It’s your call.”

“Here…here is good. Will you take me to bed?” You ask, nonchalantly.

Nathan chokes on the wine he’s sipping, setting it down to looking at you more intently. “Take you to bed,” He repeats.

“Yes, Nathan, take me to bed,” You practically purr at him this time, voice low and smoky.

Nathan has had lots of sex in his life, never been flustered or taken aback by anyone. He’s accepted that all of his past experiences go out the window when it comes to you, but he doesn’t expect such a strong reaction out of himself when faced with the opportunity to finally ravish you. He feels like if he stood up right now, his legs would give out like jello.

The way you’re looking at him— he’s sure no one has ever looked at him like this in his entire life. Carnal and hungry, like when you kissed him breathless in the forest, but more intense. It’s almost overwhelming. He’s never been consumed before, and that’s exactly how you’re looking at him. Like you’re going to swallow him whole. His cock twitches and he takes a deep breath.

“Come here,” He says softly, pushing away from the table and holding his hand out for you.

You stand, moving closer to him but don’t take his hand. “If I touch you…if we start here, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

Nathan feels winded. He squeezes his eyes shut, and nods. “Fuck, honey, alright. Follow me.”

Nathan guides you through the dining room and down a hall, not even bothering to mention what doors the two of you pass. His heart is pounding in his chest— he’s ready for this, been ready for so long and he wants this to mean something. He had been ready to wait as long as you needed in order for this moment to be everything it can be.

The suite he takes you to is larger than you anticipated it to be, but you can’t bring yourself to care. As soon as Nathan shuts the door behind you, you practically launch yourself at him, your hands starting at where his shirt is tucked into his pants. You ruck it up, leaning forward to kiss him.

“Whoa, mmm,” He hums into your mouth. His hands finally fall to cup your ass, kneading and squeezing the way he’s wanted to for hours now. “You been this desperate the whole time?”

“Have you?” You counter as you press him against the door, grinding your hips against his. You can feel him through the fabric of his trousers, and it makes your mouth water.

“Fuck, baby, lemme get you on the bed at least,” He breathes when he feels the way your hips rut.

You pull away, looking at him with bright but hazy eyes— like he’s just come up with some revolutionary idea. “The bed, right. Come here.”

You start to walk backwards, guiding him with you by his shirt. Once the back of your thighs hit the bed, you switch positions with him, encouraging him to sit down so that you can straddle him. Nathan feels weightless— this is like his dream come true. Just a couple months ago he was jerking himself off imagining a sight like this, and now he was living it.

Looking up at you, he feels warm. Fuzzy. Like he’s in the safest place he’ll ever be in. With his limited data and hope, trust— things he’s never had with anyone— he knows that he is. This is all he’ll ever need. You’re all he’ll ever need. He loves you so much it hurts.

“Baby,” He sighs, guiding your mouth down to his. Where your mouth is hurried and insistent, his is lazy and indulgent. He wants to savor every moment.

“Hmm,” You hum grinding down against his clothed cock in a move that makes both of you moan.

“I fucking love you.”

You lean away, eyes wide with alarm. Part of you, most of you, thought that to be true. Well— whatever he was capable of feeling that was close to love. He’s proved himself to you. All of his intentions, his actions, his words— no matter how haphazard he’s been in communicating them— have been pure. While just a few months ago you were sure Nathan could love no one but himself, you’re sure now that he’s being completely honest. It sends you further into your frenzy. He loves you.

Nathan Bateman fucking loves you.

You’re quiet for so long that he feels antsy. There’s no regret, no anger in his heart like he thought there could be when first pursuing you. But he is starting to feel small, like a nuisance like his parents made him feel all those years ago.

“Really?” You ask breathlessly, unsure if it’s from his declaration or your body’s response to being pressed against him like this.

He scoffs, squeezing your hips, “Really? You think I fucking—“

“Okay, alright, I love you too.”

“Really?”

You fix him with narrowed eyes. Of course you get scolded but he gets to do the exact same thing as you. It’s very Nathan. It makes you love him more.

“Nathan.”

“My really is fucking justified, I’m some asshole, you’re…you’re the moon. The sun. The sky. I’m not good at this poetic shit but I mean it.”

“You’re the sweetest, most thoughtful, insightful and just— kind. I know what you’re thinking, I know that something or someone’s taught you not to think that you’re kind and worthy but you are. Even if you’re an asshole and a clown, you are. And I love you.”

“We’re fucking corny and sickly sweet and so cliche. I could vomit,” He says, his grin wide and genuine.

You nuzzle into him, laughing softly at the tickle of his beard, “You would study it, see if it quantified any of your love for me.”

“So you think I’m disgusting,” He murmurs, using his grip on you to rock your hips down against his cock.

The pressure is sweet, and you shiver even as you try to get your voice even. “Am I wrong?”

He laughs a little, eyes fluttering when you help him rock you down even further, “No.”

You reach up to remove his glasses, bending to set them on the side of the bed— you didn’t want to break them, now with how you were about to ravish him. “Kiss me, Nathan.”

Usually, he needs to be told things once, twice, and again but this request Nathan obeys immediately. His hands start to travel up your body, fingers sliding under the fabric of your dress to expose inch after inch of your precious skin. His eyes are closed as he bares you to him, pulling down the cups of your bra so your breasts spill out, but he can feel how beautiful you are under his fingertips. Smooth and soft, fitting perfectly in his grasp. Every touch, every kiss is electric. His hands skate up your stomach, cupping your breasts before he takes your nipples between his fingers, rolling them gently.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you feel so good. So good,” He mumbles into your mouth, his fingers still working, eager to hear the soft little sound you made.

You melt into him, nodding frantically as you continue to sip from his mouth. “You too.”

Nathan breaks away from your mouth, biting and kissing his way down your neck, sucking a faint mark into your skin. More. He wants more of you, and you more of him. He kisses a trail between your breasts before leaning in, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth. You taste so fucking good. Like honey and cocoa, so delicious. Not for the first time, Nathan thinks about how much he wants to consume you. Or be consumed. He can’t choose, his head is spinning and he’s getting more frantic, shaking beneath you as he sucks and nips at you.

You can feel yourself getting lost in him, but this isn’t what you’ve thought about all these months. He feels incredible, his mouth is warm, his hands sure. The pleasure that’s blooming all over your body is one you'll never give up. But, no, for all these months, you’ve thought about turning him into a whining, shivering mess. You’ve thought about making him cum over and over until he can think of nothing but you.

You lean away, cupping your face in your hands, “Wait— please, let me touch you. I get off all the time, but I haven’t touched a man in so long. I wanna see you.”

“Honey—“

Your hands fall, gripping his shirt and ripping at it. Buttons scatter as you work him out of the shirt, leaning in to coax his mouth open for you once more. “Let me make you cum. Please, I need it.”

“That’s what you want?” He asks skeptically.

“Yeah, and you’d give me anything, wouldn't you? You ask, tilting your head at him expectantly.

“I’d give you anything,” He confirms.

You slid out of his lap, reaching behind to unclasp your bra and discard it. It leaves you in nothing but black lace panties. “Then take your pants off.”

All Nathan can do for several moments is stare at you, his mouth agape, ready to drool. He could believe he’s died and gone to heaven, except he doesn’t believe such a place exists. And if he did, he would not end up in a place where he would be so privileged to be met with the sight of you. You're an angel in the most sinful way.

“Nathan,” You coo when he doesn’t move, a soft grin on your face.

“Sorry,” He mumbles, a soft blush rising in his cheeks.

It’s adorable, it makes the heat in your lower belly burn brighter. You can feel yourself getting wetter for him by the second. “I thought about you like this so much.”

“Could've fooled me,” He heaves, trying to seem less affected than he is. That boat sailed the moment you asked him to take you to bed.

You laugh softly at his words, dropping to your knees and resting your hands on his broad thighs. “Don’t be snarky, baby, just let me make us feel good. You want that don’t you?”

Nathan shivers, even as your warm, honeyed voice glides across his skin. God he knew you’d be like this, knew he’d bend to your will so easily but to hear it and feel it. “I do,” He sighs, allowing you to guide him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Your eyes are dark with hunger, and you lick your lips a little as you look up at him. “God, your cock’s so fucking pretty. Can I put my mouth on you?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” He whispers earnestly.

You aren’t gentle or patient or thoughtful about letting him adjust. You take Nathan’s cock completely, so deep that he feels like he’s starting to enter your stomach. It takes everything in him to keep his hips down, a will that crumbles when you swallow, your throat tightening around him. The sound you make is a cross between a gag and a satisfied hum. You pull off without missing a beat, spitting on the tip of his cock and lifting a hand to grip and pump him.

“Mmm, shit, that’s really…that’s really fucking—“ Nathan babbles incoherently, words cutting off.

You start in on him again, your head bobbing up and down as you take him over and over again. The noises he’s making have you squeezing your thighs together. Soft and breathy and so so sweet. You peer up at him wanting to see how he looks. The flush in his cheeks is deeper and redder, his eyes somehow sharp and hazy all at once. Seeing him so vulnerable, gooey and nearing the peak of pleasure you don’t stop, sucking harder, allowing the tip of his cock to go deeper.

One of his hands falls to your shoulders, gripping it gently, “Wait— wait— fuck, hold on baby, just,”

Carefully, you pull off of him, wiping at the trail of spit that connects your mouth to his cock. You look up at him with those sweet little eyes, like you haven’t nearly sucked what little of a soul lies within him. “Hmm?”

“Wanna cum inside you, please.”

“This is you cumming inside me,” You challenge, kissing at the head of his cock.

“Inside your pussy,” He gasps, the vein that trails down the center of his forehead on display as he fights to stay still—as he holds back.

You rest your head on his thigh, looking up at him like he’s hung the moon. The sight alone almost makes him cum.

“Say, please,” You whisper.

“Please, sweetheart.”

“You’re so good, do you know that?” You ask him softly, reaching up to cup his face.

“Good?” He asks with a furrowed brow. The word directed at himself feels clumsy in his mouth.

“Good,” You repeat as confirmation. “So good that you’re gonna lay back against those pillows without another word aren’t you?”

Processing your words, he simply nods, helping you to your feet before he scoots back, propped up against the pillows, looking so devilishly handsome. If you stared at him long enough, you’re sure you could cum from just this sight. But why torture yourself like that, when you’re this close to having him buried inside you? Body humming with anticipation you crawl up the bed, straddling him once more.

“Do you want to feel how wet I am?”

“Yes,” He answers quickly before tacking on, “please.”

That sentence alone shows just how much Nathan Bateman is a changed man. Please without being promoted? Atop apologies and vulnerability and love confessions.

You hold your panties to the side for him, “Go on then. Touch me, baby.”

Nathan’s eyes track to where your pussy runs along his cock, burning hot. He reaches for you, letting his fingers sweat through your folds, causing both of you to moan. You’re so fucking wet, dripping, glistening in the warm lamplight.

“For me?” He asks, voice and hands trembling as he finds your clit, pressing his thumb against it.

“For you. Because you’re so fucking good for me. Good to me.”

Every fucking word out of your mouth pulls his closer to his release. He needs to be inside you, he can feel the clock ticking. “Can I fuck you now, honey? Please, I need to feel you.”

“Who knew Nathan Bateman would beg?”

“On my knees for the rest of my fucking life, baby.”

You can picture it, except in your dreams, Nathan’s beard is shining with your slick. Your breath catches, and you grow too needy to continue teasing him. It takes you just a few seconds to line him up with your entrance, giving neither of you time to adjust as you sink down on him completely. His back arches, huffing a heavy, labored breath. He’s sweating, he can feel it, his skin slick underneath your fingertips as your pussy grips him so deliciously tight. You’re dripping down his cock already.

“Fuck, honey—,” He laughs, squeezing at your hip, nearly pushing you off to hold on. “Fuck me, you couldn’t have— warned a guy?”

“Sorry,” You breathe, grinning down at him, “needed to fuck you.”

Nathan’s eyes roll as you rock your hips, completely breathless, “Shit—your pussy’s so fucking tight. So hot, you been saving this all for me?”

You bend, your nose resting against his as you gaze into him, “Savor it— don’t think. Don’t control. Just enjoy it, Nathan. Be with me. Give in to me. Say yes.”

“Yes,” He slurs, drawn out and drunk on you.

You guide his hands to either side of his head, holding them down by his wrists as you start to move, your pussy taking his cock the way your throat had with even more ease. The two of you fit together so perfectly, your cunt swallowing his entire length over and over, pleasure mounting higher and higher inside you. Nathan’s winning the fight against his body now. He’s happy to submit to you, it feels so good, so perfectly sweet, like he was made to be underneath you like this. But his body screams for release, to roll you over and fuck you hard until you squeeze his cock so tight there’s no choice in his cumming.

“Wanna cum…wanna cum in your pussy,” He whines, his hips lazily rocking up to meet yours.

“You will baby, I’ll let you fill me up,” You assure him, slowing the rhythm of your hips, teasing yourself and him for a moment as you close your eyes and let yourself really feel every single inch of him.

Nathan’s lips are parted slightly, pink and flushed, soft gasps leaving him as your hips grind down against his. You remove one of your hands from his wrists, leaning back so you have room to run your thumb over the swell of his bottom lip.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” He says, his words syrupy, “feels good. So good.”

“Let me in there,” You murmur, tapping two of your fingers against his lips, and he opens wide immediately. You purposefully clench your cunt around him, a small reward for his obedience and he groans, his back arching as pleasure burns in his veins.

“I’m gonna soak your cock,” You tell him matter of factly.

Nathan’s eyes go wide, his chest rising fast as his lungs beg for air. No matter what he does its not enough. He’s drowning in you, there’s nothing he can do about it. There’s nothing he really wants to do about it. “Soak my—“

“Nice and wet, all over you. Gonna make us messier,” You whisper, like the sound of his cock gliding in and out of you isn’t already obscene. “You want that don’t you, Nathan?”

He doesn’t have words, just soft, needy sounds. Pleading round eyes. Shallow, noisy breaths. It’s all the answer you need.

“I know, baby. I know. Cum whenever you need to, I’ll make it,” The gentle tone of your voice doesn’t match the devious look in your eyes.

You know exactly what you’re doing. You know his cock aches with the need to release, know he’s fighting this because he never wants this to end. Know that he’s never been this deep in subspace in his life, that he’ll obey any command you give him.

You shift up on your knees, until you’re taking nothing but the tip, and then rock back, taking him as deep as you can. Bending to your will, Nathan cums with a sound that can only be described as sweet agony.

As he fills you up, your hips slip into a grind, pressing and pressing the tip of his cock against the sensitive spot inside you. You can feel it coming now, you know just how to twist your hips, just how long to rub at your clit to make it happen. Your thighs grow tight, your cunt clenching as it starts to milk him for everything he’s got. You gush around him, the sound so wet and filthy that Nathan thinks he might cum again. Your slick is everywhere; your thighs, your stomach and all over Nathan, his lower belly glistening with you. He looks down and groans again, need rising sharply in his chest. He wants to taste you.

“Let me taste you, please. Drown me,” He begs, one of his hands shakily reaching for where the two of you connect.

Your hands fall to the pillows on either side of his head, propping you up from where you’d since collapsed onto him. “Nathan, baby, you’re tired—“

But, Nathan is desperate— as desperate as you were when you asked him to take you to bed, you can hear it in his voice as he pleads, “Sit on my face. Please, please, please, baby. Fucking, please. Let me eat your pussy.”

Your lost to him and his begging. With the little strength you have left, you shuffle up, getting you thighs on either side of his head, gently lowering yourself down through the burn of your muscles. Nathan has another idea, weakly reaching for you and effectively smothering himself in your pussy. Its messy, the sounds of his mouth as he licks and sucks at your clit like a starved man. Like you two hadn’t just stuffed yourselves full at dinner.

“Nathan,” You mumble, trying to steady yourself by leaning against the headboard. His beard tickles against your thighs, but makes the work of his mouth even better, brushing each and every bit of your sensitive pussy.

Despite your plea, Nathan is insatiable, pulling you down by his grip on your ass. He’s gasping and whining into your cunt, like it's all too much and too little at the same time. He can hardly breathe with how firmly he’s got you pressed against his face, though he wouldn’t change his position for the world. He would happily die here if it was what you wanted.

He can feel your thighs shaking against the sides of his head and knows that you’re close to cumming. Doubling his efforts, Nathan switches from running his tongue through your folds to focusing solely on your clit, circling and circling in a maddening technique. When you fall apart on his tongue, he presses his tongue inside of you, eager to drink up every single drop of your sweet honey.

He feels like he’s cumming again, his cock jerking behind you though there’s nothing for him to release. He feels like he’s been split right open, all of his tender, vulnerable spots on display.

It takes several minutes for Nathan to come back to himself once you shift off of his face, laying your body against his. He’s gasping for air with tightly shut eyes, his entire body shaking. You run a hand up and down his chest, cooing soft praises as you try to soothe him.

He stares at the ceiling, steadying his breaths. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re the filthiest person I’ve ever met.”

You tilt your chin to look up at him, admiring the shine of his beard that’s completely covered in you. A mark that he’s yours. “Thank you.”

The grin on your face— you’re trying to fucking kill him. How many times has he thought since he’s started this endeavor of winning your heart and why is it not over now that he has? Your grin is smug, full of fire, the fire he’s wanted from the moment he laid his eyes on you. He loves you so fucking much. If this is what he gets, he’ll be better for the rest of his life. He’ll move to the city, do the house in the crowded suburbs with the picket fence, get married. Have kids, and attend the most boring PTA meetings that plan bake sales. Bake sales where he’d have to make cookies— real cookies, not the ones with coconut sugar and almond flour, and low sugar chocolate. If it was what you wanted he’d do it all. Any of it at the drop of a hat.

“What are you thinking about?” You trace small shapes on his chest, enjoying the post-coital cuddle.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“That you’re everything,” He says easily. It’s nice— the reservations, the anxiety that he had about all of this has faded in the shadows.

With you, Nathan gets to be completely honest, knowing that he’s safe. None of what his parents said was true. He’s not unlovable. He’s not selfish. He isn’t just a fuck up that can never amount to anyone’s expectations. Despite his mistakes, he’s allowed to be loved.

“Remember when I was just your employee?” You ask teasingly, snuggling further into him.

“Fuck, I was an idiot for months. Best thing I’ve ever had, dangling in front of me in plain sight.”

“Not Bluebook?”

“No.”

“Or buying that property?”

“No.”

“The money?”

“No.”

“Your freedom?”

He snorts, “My freedom?”

“You said I could do whatever I wanted to you,” You remind him.

“And I fucking meant it.”

“It doesn’t sound very…freeing. Very Nathan,” You muse softly.

Nathan’s quiet for a long time— so long that you grow nervous, afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing. Just as you’re about to sit up to apologize, he wraps his arms around you, dropping a kiss on your forehead, “This, sweetheart, is the freest I’ve ever been in my life.”

Fin

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho

#genuinely couldn’t hold this in any longer #BUT ALSO ONE OF THE EXTRAS IS FINISHED SO #i listened well #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman fanfiction #nathan bateman #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #not sfw #arson writes

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hurts2think · 1 month

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Heyyy! I love the idea of Chloe Charming x fem reader who is Red’s sister (or some other villain). And the reader has never felt loved by anyone until she met Chloe but she’s scared to fall in love her. So basically the reader is like “I don’t know what love feels like.” And Chloe is like “Maybe I can teach you.” Sort of like Ben and Mal :)

Angst/comfort

I’m sorry if this is really confusing, but I didn’t really know how else to describe it. Hope that doesn’t sound rude!

⚔️Chloe Charming x Reader⚔️

Reader pronouns: she/her

Pairing: Chloe Charming x fem! reader

Plot: Reader is the daughter of the Big Bad Wolf. A VK. She doesn't know how to love or what it feels like. But a certain blue haired princess is determined to help with that. Even after the reader ran out on her.

Word Count: 1.3k

Extra: I recently discovered not everyone knew the iconic "I don't know what love feels like" came from Mal and Ben. And what I have to say about that: Go watch Descendants 1! So amazing. Reader is kinda super dramatic in this. Hope you enjoy this even though it's short🫶

It wasn't really like in the books or movies. You didn't 'wolf out' or go uncontrollably insane every full moon. It was more like your chest felt heavy, you legs ached, and your head pounded.

Going out to be in the moonlight didn't necessarily help, but you needed to get away. Far away from the hurt, but it only followed.

You walked through the trees and grass, pulling your thin red coat tightly around you as the wind sent chills through you.

Maybe it was a bad time coming out on a full moon in the cold. Maybe it was a bad idea to run off because you didn’t know how to handle what happened. How could you have handled it? Smiled and hugged her? Kissed her?

The thought just made you shiver again.

You finally stopped at a small clearing in the woods. There was a small bench there that you’d come to when you didn’t have anywhere to go.

You sat on the bench and sighed, looking up into the sky. You could hardly see the stars, all covered by clouds with only the moon peaking through and the light reflecting off your eyes.

You tried taking a deep breath but it only came out shaky. You clenched your fists and your abnormally sharp nails dug into the palms of your hands. You were trying everything to just calm down but you couldn’t.

You held your hand against the tree that was ingrown into the side of bench, digging your nails into the bark, as if trying to let out your pent up frustration somehow. And the full moon definitely wasn’t helping.

There was a sudden rustle coming from the direction you came from, you immediately jumped up, ready for whatever would jump out of the darkness. But what did jump out was a girl. A girl with big blue curly hair with a couple of leaves and sticks stuck in it and a worried expression on her face. Though she visibly relaxed when she saw you.

You on the other hand rolled your eyes and slumped back into the bench, “Why are you here, Chloe?”

She tried ruffling the leaves and twigs out of her hair as she slowly approached you, “You just ran off… I wanted to make sure you were okay…” she explained, settling in the seat next to you on the bench.

“Well, I’m fine. So you can leave now.” You huff, refusing to even look at her.

Chloe sighed, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset… but you shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”

A scoff escapes your lips, finally deciding to look at Chloe, “I’m half wolf. I think I can handle taking a walk by myself.” You say with a snarky bite in your tone. You really really hate talking like that. Especially to Chloe, your one and only friend. But it was like a shield. The attitude is what kept you from getting hurt. That’s what you thought at least, but it never seemed to work.

“That’s not what I meant—“ Chloe paused and took a breath, as if trying to find the right words, “Just�� please talk to me. I get if you don’t feel the same way…” she trailed off for a minute, “But I don’t understand why you just ran off like that.”

You wished more than anything you could just make her understand. But someone like her couldn’t really understand you. Not really. You had to look away from her again. Seeing the moon in her eyes and the light making her blue hair look like it was glowing made you wish you could just grab her and kiss her.

“I don’t understand either. I don’t understand why you feel like that anyway…” you Mutter before continuing, “I mean, you’re a literal princess and I’m some villain kid. Not a reformed villain kid who aced goodness class, just some kid who gets in trouble and will inevitably follow in her dads foot steps.” Your voice slowly started to raise as you spoke. Like all of your emotions were about to start spilling out.

“That’s not true—“

“No. It is true.” You suddenly stood up from the bench, facing Chloe, “Why are you so convinced that I’m like you? I’m not some princess who goes around smiling at everyone I see! I’m not like you. Your mom and dad taught you how to sword fight for fun and good manners. What do you think my dad taught his daughter? How to be nice? How to be a good team player?”

Chloe stood up shortly after you finished your tangent. She carefully took one of your hands into both of hers. You wanted to pull away but you didn’t. He hands were soft and warm compared to the sharp chill that filled the forest, “What I think, is that none of that matters. You’re your own person, and I see the good in you. The real you. I don’t think you like antagonizing people, I don’t think you like following in your dad’s footsteps. I think you like school, and being on the track team, and being around the people that love you.” Her voice was so soft and sweet. It was so understanding it was almost annoying. But her voice was soft and she was gorgeous, especially underneath the moon. You had to look away again.

There was a long pause before you even spoke again. She was right. You didn’t like running around and scaring people. You didn’t like taking and breaking things. You just wanted to be you. But all that came out of your mouth was,

“I don’t know what love feels like…”

Chloe smiled softly. Everytime she smiled it felt like your heart would beat so loud that anyone around could hear it. She had a smile the shone brighter than the moon, a smile you’d be lucky to see just once in your life.

She gently grabbed your chin and turned your face to look at her, “Maybe I can teach you.”

And there it was again. Your heart beating so loud you thought it’d alert the birds sleeping in their nests.

And now more than anything you really wanted to kiss her, but everything in your head was stopping you.

“You don’t know that you can…”

Chloe’s hand leaves your chin and runs down your arm, “I’m willing to try. Because… I love you. I love you for you. And I want you to believe that.”

That was the first time you’ve ever heard those words from anyones mouth to you. It felt… nice. Nice but scary. The idea of letting her in and the potential of getting stabbed in the back later. Being vulnerable was never something you were allowed to do, even as a little kid you weren’t.

“I’m not ready…” you pause and then rephrase yourself, “I’m not ready for a relationship…. But… if you’re willing to wait for me… maybe something will work out.” You say quietly. You felt your face heat up, basically admitting your own feelings for the girl.

Chloe’s expression turned bright, she immediately wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in tightly. And damn did she give the tightest hugs in the world.

You wanted to push her off and remind her how you felt about the hugging… but you didn’t. You felt warm and calmed. You felt safe almost. Not quite, but almost.

“I will always wait for you. I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter how long it takes, I’ll be right there for you. No matter what.” Chloe finally says, breaking away from the hug and looking you in the eyes. She always knew exactly what to say to make your heart flutter and your face hot.

And for the third time this encounter you wanted to kiss her again. You wanted to grab her face and smash your lips into hers, but you didn’t. It was probably best to start things slow. You’d work your way up to that one day.

The clouds cleared and you could see the sparkling specks of stars in the sky. For once in your life, you felt at peace on a full moon. You could think clearly, you could stand tall, and it was all thanks to one knightly princess.

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viablemess · 3 months

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modern Codywan AU idea part 1

organized crime member Cody under "mand'alor" Jango + teacher / school board nominee with a heavy past Obi-Wan. This is a beast of an idea post so buckle up and join me for the ride this took over my brain when writing another wip and would not leave me alone. I like it a lot, I hope you do too.

tw: mentions of school shootings, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of physical assault (all vague, but still)

The Fetts are a influential and very well known organized crime family in a large city, and Obi-Wan is one of three children to Qui-Gon and maybe Shmi, alongside Anakin and Ahsoka.

Boba is a student in Obi-Wan's elementary class. After most of the students are picked up save for Boba and a few other kids, there is a shooting nearby, and Obi-Wan shelters the kiddos until the shooter is apprehended. The Fett Family shows up to pick up Boba and Obi-Wan is respectful to them, oblivious to who they are, and most importantly, kept Boba and the other kids safe. As a result, Cody slips Obi-Wan a note saying "if you need anything call me, no questions asked" with his personal cell number. Obi-Wan saves it, not because he thinks he will need it, but because Anakin might, who has been involved in many illegal street races (alongside Waxer and Boil maybe whoops, they don't know the connection for most of the plot). Or, perhaps Qui-Gon will need it, because he and Shmi have been threatened by individuals and groups around their housing.

For a bit, Boba is the line of communication between Obi-Wan and Cody. He lets little stories slip and Cody hopes Obi-Wan does not call, because he seems like a gentle soul who teaches little kids, he does not belong in Cody's world. At the same time, he is a gentle soul who teaches little kids, Cody really wants to take him to dinner.

Obi-Wan texts a few times to ask about helping his brother Anakin, and Cody admits to not being able to make street race charges go away, but he will poke around, they exchange some information, and that's that.

Cody keeps working under his dad as a very respected *ahem* commander. They're looking into a new organization who might poach some buyers off of them and their smuggling deals, and to top it off, the new organization seems to break a lot of the Fett's unspoken rules of conduct. The organization's name? CIS. Of course. Rex wants to make a gender joke. The CIS are the same folks extorting the Skywalker-Kenobi family. Also of course.

And then parent teacher conferences happen because they're helpful, but Jango gets pulled into a negotiation and can't make it, surprise surprise, Cody has to go. He manages to weasel his way into dinner afterwards, and it's great. Obi-Wan is actually a snarky minx and Cody's falling fast. Obi-Wan explains that he is running for the school board because of a lot of corruption and problems in the public school district, and he wants to support the kids who have rough home lives, and Cody does some tip toeing around, and Obi-Wan picks up on what he isn't saying, because he has done his research now. Cody is so loyal, kind, and strong, and Obi-Wan is also cracking fast. It's no question these two are hooked on each other. Cody offers to walk Obi-Wan back to his car, and finds the windshield broken or his tires slashed or something. Obi-Wan manages to pass it off, and oh darn Cody needs to give Obi-Wan a ride home and it's cute.

Anakin keeps racing to earn extra money, and Qui-Gon and Shmi try to deal with things on their own. Obi-Wan goes back home to check on his parents and only sibling who lives with them, Ahsoka. Turns out someone is threatening her in a sexual manner, threatening human trafficking, and Obi-Wan flips shit. He does not tell Qui-Gon because Ahsoka begs him not too. He certainly does not tell Anakin, and so Obi-Wan goes out and does his best big brother act and tries to figure out where this is coming from. He figures out it's Maul, who has harassed and extorted his family before. A brief fight follows. Obi-Wan breaks some of Maul's ribs. Maul breaks Obi-Wan's wrist. Teaching without his dominant hand for the next few weeks absolutely sucks, and Boba definitely talks to Cody about it. Obi-Wan does not want to panic Cody, he's dealt with people like Maul before, so he tries to pass it off as clumsiness. Cody isn't buying it, but he also isn't going to push... yet.

I'm falling asleep, but will be back with part 2 soon <3

I do not have time to write this but I had to share the thought before I forget it. If anyone wants to write it please be my guest just credit/share

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a-sterling-rose · 2 years

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Danny Phantom Writing Prompt: The Lack of a Hero Complex

Once Danny publicly shames Vlad into returning the status quo of Amity Park, Danny also stops ghost fighting.

The Human Trio and Vlad confront Danny about his lack of action. The Human Trio finally gets a taste of the sleep deprivation Danny experienced when he didn't want to burden them from their schedules while the property damage continued to tarnish Vlad's public reputation. Danny just laughs.

Sam, completely livid at the lack of reaction: Who’s going to protect the town, Danny?

Danny gets up from the couch and looks directly into Vlad's eyes: Yeah, Vlad, how do you plan on protecting your town?

Danny lightly chuckles while he goes down to the lab where the Fenton Parents were working. He was just gonna play on the family computer while his Dad would boast about their latest idea.

The human trio:

Vlad:

When the ghosts who come to directly harass Danny, he decides he just needs to be completely honest with each of them.

Danny: Listen, I'll admit I kinda had fun with the bantering, but I want to focus on better things now. I was never really interested in any of you.

The Ghosts:

The results?

Vlad has to set up legit ghost detectors all over the city and properly hire the Fentons for protection. Vlad hoped that the hiring would gain him favor from Maddie, but he finally got to see how she really was compared to his idealized version. Their constant public damages made Vlad's reputation even more tarnished, and their lack of change despite him personally talking to them about it makes him grow equal resentment towards both of them. It gets to the point where Vlad just sets up the same ecto repellent he uses to keep ghosts from escaping his portal back in Winsconsin. The extra paperwork he has to do now governing is not worth the mess he caused. Political power wasn't as worth it as he thought it would be.

The Human Trio gave Danny the cold shoulder for a while, but that just gave him some well needed alone time to raise his grades. He even finally got to join the astronomy club like he planned before the portal accident. They were a very chill group and welcomed him to sit with them at lunch, so he was never alone. Dash tried to start their usual routine, but that was immediately hauled by the club leader.

Dash wasn't clever enough to figure out how to respond to being called 'Pussy Lips' by a girl, so he just kinda sulked away.

Dash will say the occasional snarky comment, but he never bring himself to get too close to Danny after a club member told Danny to tell Dash and the other football players they could take turns sucking him off after their club meeting. Dash just wasn't clever enough to get things back to normal.

Though the club members weren't A-listers, they weren't at the bottom, so Danny social life became better.

The Human Trio tried to continue on like before, but they were soon caught ghost hunting by the Fentons. There was no punishment, just overactive excitement, seeing they were finally interested in Ghost Hunting. Now, having to join the Fentons whenever there was a ghost detected, the fun of it is zapped away for them, making the tiredness not worth it anymore. The three eventually apologized to Danny, which he accepts, and the group finally accepts the new changes.

There are many things that can upset a ghost, but the universal act that can anger any core is being ignored. Even with the ecto repellent, the stronger ghosts manage to get through and try to get Danny's attention. The boy always just texts Vlad about how he sucks at his job and to take care of the disruption. The ghost eventually pick up that their violent outburst aren't working, so it gets to the point that they try to get his attention another way.

They tried to coax him with things they believed he liked. It is comparable to how Hyper Cat-lovers try to get a shy cat to love them.

Lunch Lady offers him a freshly made meal when he's low on money one day. He thanks her but says he had a big breakfast.

Ember tries to act like their best friends in front of the A-listers, so Danny will become more popular at school. He greets her but continues on his stroll like she was a typical citizen.

Technus offers to give Danny the answer key to all the tests for his classes, but he denies this offer instantly. He'll never cheat on a test ever again.

It got to the point that Skulker said he would drop the promise of getting Danny's pelt if he just let him see his ghostly form. Creeped out, Danny just backed away. He was thankful Valerie was close by.

Box Ghost actually got somewhere when he offered a three-dimensional solar system model. It was in a box he had, so Box Ghost offered it to Danny. He accepted it as the one in the club was showing its age.

This seemed to make these random ghost visits even more frequent. Danny guessed Box Ghost bragged about his 'accomplishment'.

Basically, the ghosts' obsession to defeat Danny changes to them wanting his attention. Vlad’s obsession becomes solely focused on Danny as he just finds Maddie and Jack so annoying now. Like, Vlad just wants to get custody of Danny and get the hell out of Amity Park. He doesn't even want to kill the Fentons now out of fear that they will become ghosts.

After the Ember incident, the A-listers kept trying to buddy up to him. However, Danny learned how they really were, so he just treated them the way he treated ghosts. Now, it seemed they were just as desperate.

Danny will turn into Phantom only when it's necessary, that or he's in the mood to fly. The downside to this change is that whenever he does transform, he always has an entourage of attention-starved ghosts following behind him. He can't even imagine how things would be if he went to the Ghost Zone.

Additions:

For those who want to know the members of the astronomy club-

For those who want to see the club room-

#danny phantom #danny phantom prompt #ghost obsessions #Vlad just wants to go back to Winsconsin #danny is a status symbol #unintentional ghost allies #casper high astronomy club #indifference #danny phantom fanfiction #box ghost #lunch lady #dp technus #technus #ember mclain #dp dash #dash baxter

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wardenparker · 11 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 4

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Mentions of car accident (resulting in death), trauma reactions, talk of family dynamics, plenty of secrets still being kept. Summary: Time spent with Allison and the coven is becoming more frequent, but a surprising time alone with Max is what will be on your mind for a while... Notes: Apologies for any errors that I missed in this chapter, my dears. I'm still on the mend so I admit my editing isn't quite up to par. I hope you enjoy anyway! 🧛‍♂️ This week we've got a photo of the upstairs sitting room in Dolly's lovely mansion.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3

The next few days, Max stays away. Confused as to why he had decided to spend Mabon as a bat on your shoulder during a witch's celebration instead of doing vampire things. He had missed a few parties in some neighboring cities but once he had gotten there, he hadn't wanted to leave your side. Something that was not Max. That, and now he's getting weird looks from Mrs. Taylor. As if she is waiting for him to tell her something and he doesn't know what the fuck that is. So instead of interacting, he stays away, concentrating on work.

It’s made the atmosphere in the house a little more tense than it needs to be, something which you’re so unfortunately used to that at first you find the tension more comfortable than everyone’s kindness. It’s not new to you, to have a man in close proximity who barely speaks to you, so you begin to adjust to the idea that Max just doesn’t like you very much.

******

"What is with you?" Eddie doesn't bother knocking, making Max scowl as he looks up from his magazine.

"Can't a man get a little privacy?" He grumbles, slapping the pages together and huffing at the other vampire. "What the fuck did I do now? I've been busy and on my best behavior."

“You’ve been sulking most of the time and extra snarky the others,” Eddie observes, coming fully into the upstairs sitting room where Max had been reclined on a sofa with his copy of GQ.

"I've been perfectly fine." Max sniffs, rolling his eyes and opening the magazine again. He has no interest in being questioned. "If someone takes offense to being busy, that's not my fault."

“You’re avoiding her.” It’s pretty obvious to the rest of the household, to the point where even Mr. Finchley had noticed and commented on the situation.

"Who?" Max asks, as if he isn't aware of who Eddie is referring to. As if he hadn't consciously rearranged his schedule so he wouldn't run into you.

“Dolly.” He’s not afraid of you overhearing this little exchange because you’re currently out with Allison getting a driving tour of your new island home, so he doesn’t bother closing the door behind him when he plops down in his favorite armchair.

"Come in. Make yourself comfortable." Max grunts sarcastically, shooting Eddie an unhappy look. He would rather the other vampire be anywhere else other than bothering him. "Since when is not dancing for the little human being rude?" He demands when Eddie doesn't move, just lifts a brow at him and waits.

“You haven’t even been eating dinner with us.” Not that it hasn’t made time for plenty of light conversation, but it still makes Eddie frown. “At least eat with us tonight? I think she feels like she did something wrong. Like you hate her.”

He doesn't want to. Doesn't want the feeling that rides under his skin when you are near. Like an itch he couldn't possibly scratch, even if he tore his skin off. Still....the idea that you would think you had done something wrong sits like a stone in his stomach. "I don't know her." He reminds Eddie. "How could I hate her?"

“I didn’t say I thought that,” the other vampire reminds him. “But she’s obviously been through some things and reassurance doesn’t hurt.”

Max huffs, wanting to say something snarky about needing reassurances, but then he remembers how happy you were that night around the fire. You had stroked his little bat wings and petted him while laughing and talking. He hates the idea of you slipping back into the shell of the quiet mouse you had been when you arrived. "Fine." He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "I'll make an appearance. Happy now?"

“Yes, thank you.” Eddie isn’t above using a little guilt here and there to make progress with Max, mostly because he knows that his fellow vampire has a surprisingly big heart carefully packed away under those bespoke suit layers. “I’ll let Mrs. Taylor know. She’s got a big bowl of that Italian chocolate pudding she makes with blood chilling in the fridge downstairs.”

"Oh thank god." Max wrinkles his nose. "I've been getting bored with take out." He smirks at his own little joke and looks back down at his magazine. "Now if you don't mind...."

“Looking for fashion tips for the coven’s masquerade?” Eddie lifts himself from the chair but doesn’t make a move to leave, teasing Max instead. “You know those are costume parties, right?”

Max's eyes cut over to Eddie, narrow and suspicious. "No." He snaps. "When do I have to be looking for fashion tips?" He asks, letting go of one side of the magazine to gesture to his resplendent outfit. "Maybe I'm trying to figure out how to tell you that you dress like a sad virgin." He shoots back with a pout. He's wondering why the hell Eddie would mention a coven function to him. Not like he had plans to attend.

“90s grunge is cool again,” Eddie informs him with a smirk, not bothered for even one second that Max is being pouty again.

"Go away." He rolls his eyes and flaps his magazine again, trying to ignore Eddie. Finding one of the outfits in the magazine perfect for the party but purposefully turning the page.

“Aww.” Even tutting, Eddie is laughing when he turns away. “Somebody’s got a vein in his fang. Don’t worry, Maxy. You’ll be cool one day, too.”

"Fuck you too!" Max shouts after the annoying vampire. It was a shame that he kept telling Max that he couldn't kill Eddie. Apparently having a soft spot for the annoying little shit.

Eddie chuckles all the way downstairs, going to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max will be returning to the dinner table tonight, but surprised to find the housekeeper standing in the China pantry with you — and for Allison to be there too. “I didn’t even hear you come home,” he hums, looking around at the three women. “Enjoyed your drive?”

"Oh!" Allison jumps, startled by the appearance of the cute, young looking, vampire. She's aware of his nature, Cookie having told her a few years ago. "I—" She flusters slightly and looks towards you. "I think he was talking to you and not me."

“Both of you,” Eddie clarifies, thoroughly enjoying the way Allison blushes in surprise. He’s always found the little witch to be beautiful, and is glad you made friends so quickly.

“It was really nice.” You’re standing in the room with Allison and Mrs. Taylor, arm looped through Allison’s as you chatted over having the next coven meeting here at the mansion. “Alli took me to a clam shack in Middletown for lunch and we drove all around the island.”

"Flo's." Allison tells Eddie, shrugging like it was the only place to take you. "Thought she should be familiar with the area. Learn where to go from a local."

“Perfect choice.” Not that he ever really wanted to eat there — not with how typical human food tastes to vampires — but because he sees that both humans have come home happy. So clearly, the choice was perfect. “Don’t let me interrupt. I was just coming to tell Mrs. Taylor that Max decided to be social for dinner tonight.”

"Decided?" Allison tilts her head in confusion and looks at him questioningly. "Has he been unsociable?"

“He’s been busy.” There’s no reason to talk about it, so you hadn’t mentioned it while you were out, but now you shrug. “I mean it’s not like we’re close, or anything. He’s not beholden to a big family dinner. That would be silly.” Silly for plenty of reasons – not the least of which is the fact that you’re not family at all.

Allison frowns and is about to say that there's no way that he would do that, but she catches the way your shoulders round slightly and stops herself. "Well, that just means he will have plenty to talk about tonight."

“Sure will,” Eddie predicts with a smile, having noticed the same thing as Allison. “I’m glad you ladies had fun.” Despite having been a vampire for decades he’s still fairly awkward around beautiful women and Allison is no exception to that rule. “I’ll leave you to it,” he decides, excusing himself to head back upstairs to his mountain of homework.

"Well, he ran off quickly." Allison doesn't know quite what to make of Eddie, he is normally running off before they talk for too long and it leaves her feeling a little off kilter.

“Doesn’t want to intrude on coven business, I expect.” Mrs. Taylor smiles, knowing full well that Eddie has had a little crush on Allison Wetmore for years. “Eddie used to dabble, you know? When he was younger.” When he was still human, is the underlying clarification, and Mrs. Taylor gives Allison a meaningful look. “Sometimes I think he misses it.”

"Really?" Her eyes widened in surprise and then drift back towards the door he had left through. "Well, he could always still dabble, if he wanted to. There's no rules against it."

“I can mention it to him,” you offer, seeing the way Allison softens at that idea and honestly envying it more than a little. You would give anything to feel softness and romantic longing for a good man again. Instead of the all-encompassing self-doubt and fear that you’ve been left with. The only thing you feel softness for right now is a bat. “The next coven meeting is going to be here anyway. There’s no reason he can’t join us.”

"You don't have to do that." A discreet look at Mrs. Taylor ends up with the older vampire simply shrugging her shoulders, having no input on the idea.

“There’s no reason he can’t join us,” you repeat with a smile, having no idea of the extremely real reason that so many other witches the world over would have a very big problem with the idea.

Mrs. Taylor smiles and nods. "Now, have you decided which china you would like to use?" She asks, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand. "It would really depend on the theme that you are wishing to have."

“We’re going to be planning the Samhain Masquerade, so…” A small huff of a laugh comes out of you. “Did Cookie have anything with bats or Jack o’lanterns or broomsticks on it?” You know the question is ridiculous but you’re in a fairly good mood for the third day in a row and that’s fairly miraculous.

Although she purses her lips in thought, Mrs. Taylor finds it amusing that you would be so like the woman you had never met. "There are two sets." She admits, walking over to one of the walls of cabinets without glass to display the wares. "Ms. Cookie had an odd sense of humor that would be perfect for a Samhain Masquerade."

“Are you serious?” It had only been a joke, and yet Mrs. Taylor is pulling out two different sets of dinner plates — one rimmed in spider webs and skulls and ghosts and haunted houses; and the other with a clean black rim and old fashioned scenes of witches and hauntings and magic in the center. “Oh my gods!”

The housekeeper’s laugh is loud. "That was the exact reaction of Ms. Brown when she opened the crate with the dishes." She admits as you carefully take one of them to examine. "Her soulmate was always on the lookout for things that she would love."

“They’re fantastic.” The sting in your heart at another even small similarity between and a woman you never met makes you ache for some reason. “He sounds like he loved her very much.” The story that Allison told you is still in your head, but vampires? That’s still just too outrageous.

"Their love was never a question." Mrs. Taylor murmurs softly. "If there is one set that you like more than the other, we will use that set."

“What do you think?” Giving Allison the choice since she knows the coven better makes perfect sense to you. “We could probably even mix and match if we wanted to?”

"Personally..." She tilts her head and smiles as she looks down at the plates. "I think that the ones with the pumpkins are perfect."

“Then that’s what we’ll use.” They’re all perfect, so you’re happy no matter what — and what the coven will like is far more important to you anyway.

"We can save the other china for the next one?" Allison asks. "If you decide to have another next year."

“I’m sure we will.” Somehow, with as much as you doubt yourself on other things, you don’t doubt this. Like reviving the legacy of the masquerade ball is simply meant to be.

"Then we will make sure that everyone in Newport wants an invite to your masquerades." Allison declares with a grin.

“I think we could probably fit them all in this house.” You joke, wondering if anyone besides the coven would even come and if you would even care if they didn’t. Having this many potential friends is something you haven’t experienced in years.

“You should go to see some of the other mansions down this street,” Mrs. Taylor insists, sorting through the cabinet of Samhain China. “They’re very beautiful, and quite enormous.”

"We could make it a field trip, if you wanted?" Allison jumps on the idea with a grin. "Get a few from the coven and make a day of it?"

"Are there really that many to see?" So many of the gates up and down the street were marked private that eventually you had stopped thinking that any of them might be open to the public at all.

"They will be just as soon as you tell the people answering the speaker that you have some of Mrs. Taylor’s famous cookies." Allison snickers. "Even if the homeowners aren't there, the staff will do anything to get a box."

"Oh, now, hush." Mrs. Taylor would blush if she could, but as it is she waves her hand at Allison as though she might be just too pleased for words. "I'll see that Renee gets a stack of tickets ordered for the Preservation Society and you girls can go whenever you'd like. Just come on back here for lunch in between, alright?" There is a not-so-small chance that the vampiric housekeeper has dearly missed these larger parties and is taking any excuse she can find to encourage you to make friends. Not so small at all.

"You know your cookies are coveted." Allison hums with a smile before she turns to you. "What do you say, Dolly? Does that sound like something you'd like to do later on this week?"

"Absolutely." An invitation – any time spent with new friends – warms you right from the tips of your toes all the way through the top of your head. "I've never seen houses like these before, it sounds like fun."

"Ohhhhh." Turning her eyes towards the older, vampiric housekeeper, she bites her lip. "Is there any way that we could possibly borrow some period clothing?" The witch asks with a grin, knowing that it would appeal to her immensely. "We could do the tours dressed up."

"Of course, dear." Mrs. Taylor nearly vibrates with excitement over the question, answering immediately and putting the box of dishes aside in her eagerness at the suggestion. "I will sort through some of the older things on the third floor and bring them down for you all to look through tomorrow?"

“What do you think?” Allison turns to you and wants to know if you would like that. “Is that something you would like?”

It isn't something you would normally do, but something in your gut tells you yes. To go for it. That it will be fun. "What the heck?" You shrug eventually, throwing up your hands. "It could be fun."

“Yes!” Allison pumps her first in the air. “You won’t regret it.” She promises before she checks her watch. “Shoot. I have to get to work. Call you later?”

"Sure." Accepting the quick, tight hug for as long as it lasts, Allison is quickly flying out the door again and off to the races, leaving you with Mrs. Taylor and her knowing smile in less than a flash.

“That one is always busy, says it keeps her in high spirits.” Mrs. Taylor tells you as she pulls out the rest of the china. “Would you like a tea service or would you rather wait for dinner?”

"I'll wait, if you don't mind. Lunch was big." Having nothing but leisure time has been odd even if it has only been a few days, and for a moment you have nothing but envy for your friend and her busy schedule. There are things you would love to do, but just can't bring yourself to think about for the time being. "I think I'll read until dinner, if that's alright."

“Of course.” Mrs. Taylor doesn’t remind you that you are the one who sets the rules, just nods and smiles. “Ring the bell if you need anything.”

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor. I will." There is nothing that you could need badly enough that it would make you call for the staff, but you appreciate the gesture of being reminded. You would never want to inconvenience them like that, so you'll enjoy your afternoon with your book until dinner and then quietly enjoy your absolute top guilty pleasure reality show on television tonight. That would be a perfect cap to a lovely day.

******

The fact that Max checks his appearance in the mirror has nothing to do with seeing you at dinner. Nothing at all. He’s a vain man and enjoys the fact that the modern day mirrors allow for his reflection, since they are not backed with silver. Making sure that his hair was perfectly in place, he amuses himself by letting his fangs grow, making sure there was nothing in his teeth. Wondering what you would do if he let them show at dinner.

At five minutes to seven you’re down in the dining room, not wanting anyone to ever have to wait for you or to cause any problems. A lot has gone on these last few days, but a routine is starting to emerge that you feel like you can attach to. The soothing breath of fall is helping but it’s not exclusively that. The freedom you’ve been allowed is almost terrifying, so it’s not that either. It’s the small routines that are making you feel more at ease, and the reliability of those things showing you that you can rely that Mrs. Taylor and Renee – and even Mr. Taylor and Mr. Finchley – will take care of things by sticking to their routines. Even Eddie has the routine of school and always sitting down to dinner with you. It’s only Max who is a wildcard, so you are trying very hard not to let his variability affect how you approach your day. Tonight begins your one true indulgence, and you will be damned if you let Max’s variable mood ruin it for you. You’ve been looking forward to this. It’s all you have left of some things that are long since past.

At seven Max strolls into the dining room. “Well, this looks like a marvelous evening.” He says with a small chuckle. “Miss me? I’ve been very busy.”

“It’s been a few days,” you nod once and pick up your lemonade, noting a taste of something herbal in it that you can’t quite identify. “I hope you’ve gotten things done?”

“Always.” He smirks, sending you a wink even if he doesn’t want to wink at you. “Plenty of deals done. Gotta burn that oil to get in good with the bosses.”

"I hope it works for you." Not having to suck up to horrible bosses is something you've considered an enormous fringe benefit of not having to look for a job in your new town, but Max seems to enjoy – somehow – the hustle and bustle of the office.

“So far my numbers don’t lie.” He boasts as he drags out his chair and flops down, somehow making it look elegant. His eyes roam over your face and it’s obvious that you’ve relaxed, your eyes brighter than before and you look happy.

“Have you…seen Eddie?” There are only two places set tonight and no sign of the other young man in sight. While it’s unusual it’s not exactly concerning.

Max knows that is happening and he frowns. Little shit obviously decided that you could stand to have a one-on-one dinner. “I think he decided to go out.” He tells you. “Take out.”

“Oh. Sure. Of course.” The whirring cogs in your brain immediately reinterpret that as ‘he is avoiding you because you’ve done something wrong or upset him’ and even though you have absolutely no evidence for that you can’t shake it out of your mind as Mrs. Taylor comes in with the first course.

Max huffs when there’s just water again, no goblets of ‘wine’. He needs one of those drink cups with a straw to bring to the table. “Think the kid’s trying to get laid or something.” He shrugs and glances down at his plate. “No, it was a study group. I was the one trying to get laid in college.” He tells you with a chuckle.

You have no trouble believing that whatsoever, but pointing it out seems like bad form, though. “Eddie seems very serious about school,” you observe instead. Thinking about Max like that is surprisingly easy and you immediately shock yourself trying to imagine if he has chest hair or not. That is not a helpful thought.

“He should be.” Max frowns seriously, picking up his spoon and sliding it through the blood soup Mrs. Taylor had made him. You have tomato soup in your own bowl. “Honestly, I’d be mad if he wasn’t serious.”

“You would?” From the man who just said he spent college trying to get laid, you can admit to yourself that that is surprising to hear from him.

"Of course I would." He spoons up a sip of the blood soup and slurps it happily. "Don't want the same thing to happen to him that happened to me."

“I thought you had your MBA?” The thick, creamy tomato soup that Mrs. Taylor made for tonight is wonderful, and you can already tell you’re going to be craving it with grilled cheese on chilly days.

He sighs, his face twisting in anger. "No thanks to fucking Vanderbilt." He hisses, still angry after all this time that they had not even attempted to listen to him. He had not cheated. He was a lot of things, but a fucking cheater in school hadn't been one of them.

“You went to Vanderbilt?” The way you almost drop your spoon in shock is about as telling at the way your mouth hangs open, but you manage not to let the utensil clatter or make a mess.

"I did." He snorts. "Until they fucking kicked me out for something I didn't do."

“I—I’m so sorry.” It’s clear he’s still angry about it, whatever it was that happened, and you back down from asking questions instantly. An angry man is never ever a good thing, especially when they’re strong. And Max definitely looks strong.

The way you clam up instantly makes him regret showing his true emotions. His shoulders relax and he adopts a slightly smarmy smirk. "Not that I didn't do anything wrong..." He admits. "But banging my roommate's ex-girlfriend was my only crime. Evan just…he was a fucking twerp."

“They…kicked you out for that?” You knew there was an Honor System when you were at school but that seems like taking it to a rather incredulous degree, to you.

"Nope." He takes another sip of his soup. "I was accused of 'academic dishonesty'." He even uses the air quotes. "Little shit had access to my computer so he made it look like I was stealing my essays from him. And he uploaded some test key from one of my classes onto it."

“Gods, he actually framed you?” That’s a whole lot of dedication to disliking someone and you fidget slightly in your seat, wondering when this all happened. You have no idea how old Max is or how old he was in college. “I’m…I’m really sorry. That’s awful.”

"Yeah....of course no college in the states would take me." He tells you. "Had to get my MBA in Romania."

“I…” A spoonful of liquid sits in your spoon, untouched, as you debate finishing your sentence. “I…went to Vanderbilt, too.”

"No shit?" Max huffs, looking impressed. "What year?"

"I was Class of 2011." There is a brightness there, in remembering college, that you don't have with a lot of other things, and the smile on your face is genuine. "It's hard to believe it was so long ago."

"Oh shit." Max's brows shoot up and he shakes his head. "I can't - you were there at the same time. I was - well, would have been, Class of '09."

"Shit..." Even if the curse slips out on its own, it's honest. And you sit back in your chair in surprise. "The school isn't that big. How did we never meet?"

"Somehow I don't peg you as a business major." He teases slightly with a grin. "Although....were you in any of the sororities? I was always at those parties."

"I wasn't exactly a sorority girl." That is a fairly large understatement, but you get the feeling that he wasn't being serious anyway. "I was a classics and anthropology double major, But I...spent most of my extra time dancing." It's been a long time since you have been in a studio, or last took a lesson, but that's where you spent every ounce of free time when you were younger. Dance was like breathing. It was just part of who you were, but it was never going to be your profession.

"Dancing?" He tilts his head, spoon halfway to his lips and he tries to figure out what you mean. "I mean, where do you dance, except at a party?" He asks, wondering if you were one of those ballet types.

The sting in your heart is still there, despite it having been a lot of years since the last time you were in a studio. "I used to do ballroom competitively," you tell him, finally taking that spoonful of your own soup all the way to your mouth.

Eating your soup stops you from seeing the way that Max nearly chokes on his next spoonful of the warm blood soup. Catching himself before you look up and schooling his features back to polite interest. "Hmmm."

"Yeah, it's not the most popular, necessarily. Or something that a lot of people dabble in." It wasn't as though you had taken jazz or tap, or any of the types of dance classes that the theater students favored. You hadn't even tried out ballet. For you, it had always been ballroom or bust. "But...I enjoyed it. A lot."

"Good for you." Max tells you. "Everyone needs a hobby and it will be handy when you are throwing those parties that Mrs. Taylor is nearly creaming herself over."

"Max." The way you say his name is full of -- to the surprise of both of you -- chastising disapproval. And while that in and of itself isn't necessarily the surprise, the surprise is that it almost feels playful.

He chuckles, smirking at the shocked expression on your face, as if you can't believe that just came out of your mouth. His own return of your name is playful, bantering.

“She seems glad to have things not changing too much, that’s all.” To have reminders of Ms. Brown has seemed to make the housekeeper very glad, and who are you to put an end to that?

Max frowns for a second. "Are there things you want to change?" He asks, wondering why you sound proud that you haven't made any waves.

“Not…not particularly?” In truth you haven’t thought about changing anything at all, so you can’t really say. “Change isn’t always good.”

"Change can be great though." Max argues, even though his tone is still playful. Still making sure that he doesn't somehow hurt your decidedly tender feelings.

"It can be." Sometimes. Rarely. Although this change -- the decision to accept the inheritance and move north -- has been a good one. "But to be honest? Everything is so different here that I don't mind just learning the ropes."

He hums again and quickly finishes his soup before Mrs. Taylor comes in to bring the next course. "I'm sure you will fit right in. The old battle ax is rigid in her schedule." He looks up at the older housekeeper and winks at her playfully.

She says nothing, but raises one eyebrow at Max as she picks up the soup bowls from both of your places and sets down plates instead. You don’t look upset at all so she’s taking it as a good sign for your conversation.

He smirks when you don't comment, instead staring at your plate like it fascinates you. "She's not going to bite." He promises. "You at least. Me? She's wanted to bite me for years, but I'm just not the type of man to be the 'other man'." He leans closer. "And between you and me? I think Mr. Taylor might be able to take me."

Years ago you would have teased him about being the kind of guy who claimed to be invulnerable, but not anymore. There may still be playfulness in you but the sass is pretty much gone. "Housekeeper isn't a vampire but her husband might be. Got it." You joke, instead of getting too heavy with anything. The story that the coven told you at Mabon is obviously still on your mind.

Max freezes for a moment before he shoots you a grin. "That's the spirit."

“I didn’t realize vampire stories were so popular up here.” At this point it’s just conversational and you pick up your fork for your second course. “Is it a regional thing? Allison was telling me about…Mercy Brown? I think that was her name.” The local vampire story from 1892 had been another tale related to you at the Mabon bonfire.

Max chuckles. "Vampires are extremely popular around here. As they should be." He adds, picking up his butter knife and pointing it at you as he educates you. "They are the superior creature in every way that counts."

“Oh?” That seems…characteristically cocky coming from Max, so you don’t know why you’re surprised. It’s his opinion or nothing. “If you say so.”

"Think about it." He hums. "Immortality."

“I’d go for magic being real before I go for immortality,” you tell him honestly. There hasn’t been anything about your life worth living forever for in a long time.

"Ouch." He rubs his heart like you hurt him. "I guess that's why you're a witch." He pouts at you before he picks up his fork. He's also noticed that you don't eat unless someone else does and you need to eat. Your stomach is growling quietly.

“I was raised a witch.” There isn’t any reason to share so much with him but you can’t seem to stop yourself. It’s like a compulsion. “My parents were witches, too.”

"So it's like...a family thing." He nods as he takes a bite of the steak tare-tare that he had been craving, groaning quietly at the taste.

“Very much so.” Though your family history is a little complicated, you can see unequivocally that the title of Witch is hereditary.

"That's cool." Max shrugs slightly, looking down as he scoops some more of the next course on his fork. "I don't think I could claim something like that. Parents disowned me when I was kicked out of Vandy."

“I’m sorry to hear that.” With your own loss being what it is, you can certainly appreciate the feeling of being on your own. “My parents died the summer before my freshman year.”

"I'm sorry." Max doesn't mean many things when he apologizes, but he does mean this. "Really."

“Thank you.” There isn’t anything to do about it now, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it then. But you do appreciate the sympathy. “I know it isn’t the same thing, but I understand being on your own.”

He doesn’t answer, he doesn’t have an answer for that. He just nods and reaches for the water to wash down the food.

Stony silence fills the dining room and you understand immediately that you've overstepped. Your situations aren't the same and you shouldn't have compared them, and now he's upset with you. Having a man upset with you, though, is unfortunately something that you're intimately familiar with, and even though you shrink in your chair you know what to do. Just sit with your mouth shut and eat your dinner, making sure not to make eating sounds that will bother or anger Max for the rest of the meal.

Unfortunately, it seems like you are the worst at someone staying silent and you clam up like you've just been scolded. Max wants to bridge the gap, to get back to the somewhat easy banter you had been having. "Dead parents, as good as dead parents." Max shrugs his shoulders. "What are you gonna do, am I right?" He cracks a smile. "At least yours have a good reason for abandoning you. Still sucks though, and I'm sorry. How did they go? Shootout with police? Exploding cauldron?" He's being purposely ridiculous to see you smile. Hopefully.

“Car accident.” You can’t really tell if he’s trying to lighten the mood or making light of your parents’ deaths, so for your own sanity you have to choose to believe it’s the former. “An eighteen-wheeler hydroplaned in a thunderstorm and rolled over onto my parents’ sedan and another car on the highway.” It’s been long enough that you can talk about it without instantly crying, but only just. “Truck driver was the only survivor.”

"Fuck." Max winces and he blows out a breath in a very human-like exhale. "I'm so sorry. That's a lot to deal with when you're that age, any age really." He adds. "What were they like?"

“I don’t think kinder people have ever existed.” You tell him honestly, fork in hand but not actively eating while you think of your parents. “They were soulmates. Met during a summer study abroad program in London. My dad had just started college the year before and my mom was taking a gap year because she didn’t know what she wanted to study. After they met, she applied to the same college he was studying at and…they were pretty much inseparable after that.”

Even though his heart no longer beats, something twists in his chest at the mention of soulmates. He had never gotten to find out who his was. Despite his playboy attitude, when he had been in college, he would have dropped everything to be with that girl. No more serial dating or being a flirt. He had wanted the soulmate bond that his parents had shared. “That’s sweet.” He tells you. “At least….” He clears his throat. “At least they went together so they didn’t have to lose each other to death.”

“That’s…kind of what I’ve settled on…” Agreement with Max is an odd feeling, but you too had settled on neither of them having to be alone at the end as a good thing. Any solace you could give yourself at the time was extremely necessary. “Do you—? I mean…your parents…?” You’re not quite sure how to ask, or even what you’re asking, but it feels rude not to ask at all.

“What?” He asks, not sure exactly what you mean. “Wish I could see them?”

“I was going to ask if you had checked up on them,” you admit, looking down at your plate. Max must not like duck, you reflect, since his dinner is something different tonight. “Sometimes I wish I knew the rest of my family just so I could check on them. See if they’re happy. But that’s silly.”

“I saw them about three years ago.” Max admits quietly. “From a distance. They made it very clear they had no interest in a cheater and refused to believe me. So….” He shrugs. “They made their choice. Being told your parents wished you were never born is a relationship killer.” He hadn't been able to resist going back and seeing the people who had given him life, but he had just watched from the car for a few hours before leaving.

“I’m so sorry.” Somehow it never occurs to you to ask if he is actually guilty. Someone so proud of his achievements doesn’t seem like the type to cut corners to you, and the fact that he still seems so hurt by it is the other large piece of the puzzle. If he were truly that person, it would not have left such a mark on his heart. And just like that— the wall you had up around yourself to keep out Max Phillips begins to crack.

******

Dinner had finished with much lighter subjects being broached. Finding himself watching as you relax more as the night goes on. The seemingly heavy burden of fear and manners slowly slipping off your shoulders and instead of being weighed down, your spine straightens. Body starts to uncurl from the center and open up. He had excused himself, like a gentleman. Wishing you a nice night and disappearing quickly. Unsure of why he's so fucking protective of you and not liking it at all. He had thought about turning into a bat again. To seek you out, but instead, he finds himself roaming around the halls of the mansion like a ghost.

It’s silly. You know it is. But to still have silly things to hold on to at this point in your life is vital. So you make your way upstairs after dinner and putter in your room for a little while, deciding to change into pajamas before going out to see if anyone is in the sitting room. Eddie is still out and there’s no sign of Max so you slip inside and turn on the tv, allowing yourself to relax and even enjoy tonight. Dancing with the Stars is silly in a lot of ways. But sometimes, for the people competing and for you watching, it can mean a whole hell of a lot. It’s a window back to happier days, and that is something you are grateful for.

The noise is what attracts him. Hearing the applause draws him from the remote areas of the house. As if pulled by an invisible string. His feet quiet as he draws closer to the light flashing from the sitting room.

“Live, from Hollywood! It’s Dancing with the Stars!” proclaims the host loudly, and you sink back into the presumably antique sofa with a happy sigh. The little things — like reality tv — aren’t always so little. Next week, you think, you’ll have to make popcorn.

Reality TV? His head tilts and his eyes widen in surprise as he comes into the sitting room. Unable to believe that you would watch something as trivial as this. He had pegged you for a Lifetime movies girl, or maybe the Who Done It channels that constantly played murder cases.

“Max!” The last thing you had expected was company, and your cheeks burn hot in embarrassment when you realize he’s smirking, like he’s on the verge of laughter. “Did—uh—did you want to watch tv?”

"Sure." He immediately starts to shrug out of his jacket and unbutton his vest as he walks around the couch. "What are we watching?" He asks, like he just didn't hear the announcer. It had cut to commercial and he wants to see what you say.

“I—uh—” Your complete intention had been to surrender the television to him if he wanted it. The idea that he might want to join you had never even crossed your mind, so when Max plops down on the sofa beside you, you feel like a deer caught in car headlights. “It’s…Dancing with the Stars…” you let the truth out without even thinking. It’s not even worth lying about, since you’re the worst liar in the world. And what would the point be, anyway?

"Hmmmmm." He is impressed that you just admitted what you are watching and he glances over at you with a grin. "Does it make you nostalgic?" He asks.

You nod, a melancholy smile grabbing your lips as you twist your fingers on the edge of your sweater. “Yeah. It does.”

"Who's your favorite this season?" He asks as he settles deeper into the couch. "Any favorites yet?"

“Only one couple has danced so far, so I’m not sure.” The fact that he’s asking, that he’s not just teasing you about it and walking away, makes you want to just about throw your arms around him in a grateful hug. But since that would be extremely weird and you can’t even fathom the urge, you just smile a little wider instead. “Alyson Hannigan is on this year, though. Even if she’s not very good, it’ll be fun. I—I was kind of a Buffy kid growing up.”

Max snorts, chuckling quietly. "Yeah but it was so predictable." He tells you. "Every week Buffy would be up against some bad ass who she easily defeated."

"That's because Buffy was a badass," you counter without hesitation.

He huffs, pursing his lips in a pout and smirks when you just raise an eyebrow. "You mean there wasn't one vampire you didn't secretly want to live?"

"Spike did live." Did you love the enemies-to-lovers arc that Buffy and Spike went through? Abso-fucking-lutely. Some of the shine had come off of the adversarial relationship since, but you still see the appeal in feeling like you know the real someone they keep hidden from the world.

Max rolls his eyes. "Spike wasn't that great." He huffs. "He wasn't."

"Oh no?" That makes you smirk a little, and you shift on the couch to face him better. "You preferred Angel, did you?" Angel would be the more sentimental choice, and that actually is a bit of a surprise. You would have thought Max would be more into the snarky badass vampire character.

"Angel had a personality." Max insists. "There was the conflict of good and evil inside him. That's better than just....eye candy with spiky white hair."

"Spike got his soul back, too, ya know." Having a debate about a supernatural television show from your childhood isn't exactly where you saw this night going, but Dancing with the Stars is still on commercial and seeing Max get worked up about something that doesn't lead to anger is actually kind of fun. "And he could sing."

He rolls his eyes at your rational and tuts. "Whatever, you just thought he was hot." He's oddly pouty about that fact, since he's the opposite of what Spike looks like. The show starts back and he points at it. "Watch the damn dancers." He grumbles.

"I liked that he improved himself for the person he loved," you clarify quietly, but turn to face the tv again like you've been told.

Max sighs, feeling bad for getting snippy about a fictional character and watches for another moment before standing up and walking out of the room.

The second it happens you can feel yourself curling in again, embarrassed and vulnerable and mortified that he's upset with you. Maybe, you tell yourself, trying not to get so upset that you cry over the fact that Max got up and walked out of the room -- maybe he's just not into dancing. That wouldn't be the end of the world...

"You're a fucking idiot, Phillips." Max berates himself as he zips down to the kitchen, using the speed he couldn't show if you were nearby. "You know she's fucking sensitive and more than likely abused. And yet you fucking get moody with her."

Mrs. Taylor had been clearing up the last of things from the day's work and starting on a little preparation for tomorrow as well when she heard Max in the kitchen. Some of the clothing that she had pulled down from the third floor needed mending and she has a needle and button in hand while Max talks to himself and she hears cabinets open and close.

"Fuck." He shakes his head and throws the popcorn in the microwave. "Okay, snacks, what kind of snacks does a human like while watching dancing?" He asks himself as he starts to pull out crackers and search for something sweet. You seemed to like that. He figured he would apologize with a little snack tray while watching your show.

Smiling to herself, Mrs. Taylor slips across the hall from the sewing room and leans in the kitchen doorway. "She likes hot chocolate," she murmurs, arms crossed and an expression of pure amusement on her face.

Max looks up guiltily and swallows. "Oh, uh, okay." He shrugs when he looks back into the cabinet and grabs the box of deluxe hot chocolate mix. "She wanted snacks." He lies. "Something about being peckish. You know humans."

"Sure, sure." The housekeeper doesn't buy that for a second, knowing that you would never ask for anything. Even after only a few days, she knows that. "Humans."

"Right?" He huffs and rolls his eyes, grabbing the milk and pouring it into the cup to froth in the espresso machine. It would be the best way to scald the milk and make the richest hot chocolate. It's the way he had made it when he was a barista in college.

"There's whipped cream in the fridge." Mrs. Taylor hums, pushing off from the doorframe with a knowing grin. "Enjoy your night, Max."

He grunts, watching the milk scald very carefully before he scoops the cocoa powder into the milk and stirs vigorously to mix it together. Cursing to himself when he realizes he didn't get a mug out, he sets it down to grab one of the big cocoa mugs and delicately pours it in, using the foam to finish the top before he moves to the fridge to grab the whipped cream and a bar of chocolate to shave over the top.

He barely manages to get it all done before the microwave beeps, but he does get it. The popcorn is buttery and salty just the way humans like it and the cocoa is exactly the way he would make it in his barista days.

Carrying the tray up the stairs takes a little bit longer than it would have without it, so he doesn't spill anything. The covered cup for himself is filled with a blood mixture, so he can 'participate' in the snacking. "So what did I miss?" He asks when he walks back into the sitting room.

The look of astonishment on your face when he strolls back I should be plenty enough to tell him that you didn’t think he was coming back, but you manage to sputter out that Alyson Hannigan is about to dance and nearly melt in sheer shock when you realize that he not only came back — he came back with snacks.

"Good, I didn't miss it." He sets the tray down on the coffee table and picks up the hot chocolate and saucer to hand to you. "It's hot, so don't burn yourself." He cautions as he looks at the tv with interest.

Careful not to fumble the cup as he sits down beside you again, you must look like a dope with the little smile of surprise in your lips but you can’t help it. “You didn’t have to do this…”

"Mrs Taylor." He lies with a small shrug. "She insisted. You know, housekeepers." He rolls his eyes for dramatic affect. "If they aren't making things perfect, they aren't happy." It wasn't Mrs. Taylor at all, but he won't admit that it was him even if it's completely obvious it was a lie.

“If you say so.” You nod, though you know just from looking at the cup that Mrs. Taylor didn’t make it.

"Popcorn?" He offers, holding up the bowl. "I - Mrs. Taylor - figured you were a popcorn kind of girl."

“You were right.” Even if he hadn’t given himself away, the tray would have. Mess. Taylor never would have forgotten a napkin. But you dip your hand in the bowl after setting it on the couch between you, and you just smile. A wide, genuine, personal smile.

Max huffs, settling in the cushions with his own cup and focusing on the tv. You didn't reject his tray, or think that it was a shitty idea, so that's good. "Oh, she looks hot." He hums as the couple starts to dance.

“She’s very pretty.” The costume is bright and colorful, fringe and sparkles everywhere, reminding you of so many teenage competitions. When you were growing up your mother swore that everything you owned had sparkle.

"Oooooh." Max winces and takes a sip of his drink. "That's gonna cost them." He predicts as he watches the first misstep of the routine.

“Familiar with ballroom salsa?” You ask, surprised to hear him have any comments at all beyond the costuming. Max is meticulously well dressed, so you had figured that would be the most amusing part for him.

"I just- uh, heard the crowd react." Max tells you, cutting his eyes over to see if you believe him or if you are suspicious.

“It’s okay to say yes…if you do.” It makes you wonder if he really would find it so terrible to have something in common with you.

He blows out a sigh and contemplates lying but apparently he is obscenely bad at lying to you. "I might know a thing or two."

“Did you…ever dance?” It’s equally possible that he dated a girl who danced, or even that he has a friend who he picked it up from. There could be any of a million reasons, and you’re not quite sure why you’re hoping for one over the other.

He closes his eyes and blows out another breath. "I've....danced." He admits slowly. "Comp...etitvely.

“Well I’ll be damned…” That was not what you expected to hear, and the smile on your face creeps a little bit wider than it had been beforehand. “So you know exactly what you’re watching.”

“Her timing is off a quarter of a beat and his arms are not rigid enough.” Max breaks it down as he watches. “The first quarter turn was sloppy and he’s letting her lead.”

“Salsa’s tough for a beginner. She’s got to build her confidence in herself and in him.” Going for a few pieces of popcorn, you can feel yourself relax around him to a whole other degree. “Don’t you remember getting your first competition partner? It was terrifying.”

“Yeah.” He can’t tell you that everyone had spent countless hours practicing before that began. A side effect of not needing sleep.

“When did you start?” Finding this common thread is a revelation for you, and as the judges critique the performance on screen you almost don’t even care that it’s on now.

“In Romania.” He admits. “You had to take an elective and since I was there late…” he shrugs. “Ballroom dancing it was.”

“You must be good, if you started relatively recently but got all the way to competitions.” For you, ballroom had started early. It had been your entire childhood, in a lot of ways. Coven meetings, trips to the library, and baby ballroom.

“A lot of practice, but I have natural grace.” He boasts with a small wink.

It’s bragging, of course it is, but this time it doesn’t run you the wrong way like it has at others. It’s just…like he doesn’t want to admit how much it means to him. “Sounds like you would put that ballroom downstairs to good use.”

“Depends on who I’m dancing with.” He teases. “I don’t think Mrs. Taylor would dance with me.”

“You don’t have a partner?” As soon as it’s out of your mouth you hear it — the sound of you accidentally asking him if he’s seeing anyone when what you meant to ask was if he had a competition partner. And yet? You are curious. In a backward kind of way…

It seems like the question is more loaded than just a dancing partner and he shrugs. “Not for a long time.”

“I hope that changes for you.” It’s meant to be cordial. Slightly more than polite. That’s all. You swear that that is all you meant. The twist and pull vibrating through you and making your stomach turn to knots is far beyond what you swear to yourself that you meant to ask. “I-if you want it to, that is.”

Max nods. “Been a long time since I’ve danced.” He admits. “College.” While he had enjoyed it a lot more than he would ever admit, he had people to prove wrong. The grand ideas of showing his parents how wrong they were and getting revenge on Evan had taken priority and ended up making him lose everything. Even his connection with his soulmate.

“It’s never too late for a second chance.” Your father’s favorite advice, this time, as you sip the cocoa that he made for you and hum in utter bliss. It’s better than Mrs. Taylor’s, but you’ll never tell. “And thank you for this. It’s…really wonderful.”

“Can’t watch a guilty pleasure without snacks.” Max scoffs. “It’s a crime.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to be arrested for a lack of popcorn,” you hum, picking up a few more kernels.

He snorts, grinning at you before he takes another sip of his own drink. “Nope. I don’t think orange is your color.”

"I'll trust your judgment on that." You tell him with a smile. "I think you have better fashion sense than me."

"You should start wearing eccentric outfits. Play up the ‘strange owner of the mansion’ bit." He chuckles.

“It takes a lot of courage to be eccentric.” Something that you had once — wearing princess dresses in school pictures and dressing up in wild ballroom costumes — but it’s been a very long time. Too long. All that confidence got lost along the way.

"Fuck it, you're rich." Max shrugs. "Who gives a shit what people think about you?" He asks seriously. "They don't feed you, fuck you or pay your bills."

“So whose opinion do I care about, then?” You ask, half-serious and half-intrigued by the idea, even though you know you don’t have the guts to follow through with it. “Mrs. Taylor is the one who feeds me now, so just her?”

"Those you care about." Max explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Some rando on the street doesn't mean shit. Who gives a damn if that person thinks that you're strange or you shouldn't wear three-piece suits?" He tells you as an example. "You like the way they are cut, how you look, better yet - how you feel wearing them." He might be projecting slightly, but he reels it back in to focus on you. "Those that care about you and you about them, they just want you to be happy. And if dying your hair fuschia and wearing a dress from 1892 while rocking combat boots? They'll love it."

“That’s…very good advice, Max.” And surprisingly sweet. Sweet enough that that invisible wall cracks again, but you don’t voice the thought that it’s been a long time — too long — since you had anyone who truly cared about you like that. And that you’re too terrified to your very core to hope that any of the people you’ve met so far in Newport might grow into that sort of person.

"That's me." Max winks playfully. "Full of good advice and sound investment choices." He teases, just to see if you roll your eyes or get embarrassed.

“I’ll remember that.” Instead of doing either thing he expects, you fluster slightly and turn back to the tv, wondering why you’re having butterflies over something so…Max.

The rest of the show is surprisingly entertaining, both of you offering your opinions on the routines and even rating them. By the time it's over, you're obviously sleepy from the extra snacks and the hot chocolate. Max hums as he looks over and turns off the tv. "You should go get ready for bed, Dolly." He urges you. "I can clean this up."

“I liked Queenie, too,” you hum, smothering a yawn as you reach to put your cup and saucer back on the tray but Max is faster than you. He obviously means it, which means far more to you than you can say. “Good night Max. And thanks for…you know. Everything.”

"No problem, Queenie." He hums, grinning that you like his nickname for you. "Goodnight." You stand and walk out of the room, his dark eyes on you the entire time as he tries to discern why he has the greatest urge to follow you and tuck you in.

Teeth brushed, face washed, and the day stripped away, you climb into bed in your tank top and cotton pajama pants without bothering to look in the mirror. Once you might have stopped, inspected the marks that adorned your skin from the person that the universe decree was the other half of your soul— but they disappeared years ago. Now, alone, you tuck your blankets around you and breathe in the fresh fall air from your open window, hoping that the racing thoughts won’t keep you up and you can end a pleasant day on a pleasant note.

******

He moves like a wisp of smoke. Silent, nearly invisible when he wants to be, which is often. It was how he was so good, instinct and talent can only take you so far. His skills honed through centuries of use. The fact that he was so good was why he was gifted, or cursed, with immorality. He uses it now. Slipping through the halls unseen. Even passing by his protegé without being noticed on his way towards his goal. A single room. A single person. Asleep and vulnerable in her dreams. His teeth flash in a smile, sharp and deadly as he anticipates seeing you again.

Dreams don’t always come anymore, and they certainly don’t come easily when they do. More often stuck in your nightmares, you’re grateful for dreamless sleep. Tonight though, as your head hits your pillow, your unconscious mind has a different destination. The little farmhouse in Indiana where your bedroom was painted sunshine yellow and all your favorite dolls are lined up on the shelf beside your Nancy Drew and Magic Treehouse Club books was always the setting for encountering your invisible friend. Though he visited you everywhere, he would always make sure to tuck you in at night and wish you sweet dreams. Words of kindness and encouragement from a man with curly hair the color of your father’s coffee and a voice tinted and coloured by travel to places unimaginable and beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve seen him in your dreams in longer than you can remember…but his eyes still crinkle in the same kind way…

Standing at the foot of your bed, he observes you. You're different. Obviously. He's not seen you since you were a child. Unable to because of the power magic of your mother. The spell binding until death. While the loss is bittersweet, he greedily takes note of the curve of your cheek and length of your lashes. Frowning slightly when he sees the way that you seem worn, the weight of your life's challenges weighing you down. He steps closer, leaning down and brushing his hand over your hair gently. Touching you with an almost tender yearning and the slight undercurrent of sadness.

The flashes in your dream are slight at first — showing you a great whirling of people and bright colors in amber light with vibrant music in the air. Catches of the image seem familiar but you can’t place them, until you hurry out a side door of the room to step out onto a small porch to a sprawling garden, and you recognize the grounds of the house where you now live. A hand on your shoulder. A soft voice in your ear, thickly accented but familiar.

"What do you think, muñequita?" He asks, gently. "Is it pretty enough for my little doll?"

“It’s beautiful, Yayo.” It’s been so long since he appeared in a dream of yours, yet the moment he does you recognize him instantly. Your sleeping mind has always welcomed him. “Unbelievably beautiful.”

"My greatest dream has come true, my sweet girl." He hums, his fingers curling around your shoulder in a comforting embrace. "Having you here."

Without hesitation, your head finds his shoulder and you welcome the comfort of his frame, feeling his presence even in the dream. Even when you know he isn’t real. In the dream he is as real as you are. “I’ll stay here forever then.”

"I hope you do, muñequita." He sighs, smiling at the thought and turns to press his lips to your temple. "It is my greatest wish. That's why I brought him here for you."

“Who, Yayo?” The embrace feels like being wrapped up in the best hug in the world. (edited)

"It will be obvious soon, my sweet." He promises, kissing you again and inhaling your scent. "Te amo, muñequita." He murmurs. "Te amo."

“Te amo, Yayo.” There is no doubt or hesitation in it. The friend that stepped into your dreams as a child has always defended you, and reminded you through far away memories that the world is vast and mysterious. That so much is possible. It is only the last few years that have made you lose sight of that.

Standing straight, he smiles as he tucks your covers up over your shoulder. Happy that he has seen you again and reached out to you through your dreams. You are no longer the young child that would believe he is your imaginary friend. Stepping back, he watches you sleep peacefully, his muñequita.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #deceased parents #vampires #spooky season

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bumblebeehug · 27 days

Text

Together Forever

Summary: Natsu and Lucy being consent in each other's presence, and a little bit of Happy being a sweet baby boy. Notes: This is the first fanfic I've written and posted, and since I don't wanna re-read and edit stuff I'm just gonna close my eyes and hit publish :P Ao3 - FF.net

***

“Come on Natsu, at least steer your vomit away from me!” Lucy cried out, watching the sick dragonslayer destroy yet another pair of shoes. She was seriously considering putting plastic bags on her feet if Natsu couldn’t gain control over his flow anytime soon.

“Luuushi...” Happy said with a groggy voice, barely keeping his eyes open. The exceed had used up almost all his magic powers this mission, making him unusually tired - and unexpectedly cuddly towards a certain celestial mage.

“Come here Happy.” Lucy patted on her lap, letting the blue cat curl up into a purring ball of blue fur. The low frequent rumbling actually helped her calm down too. She would just have to deal with his shedding and the dirty shoes later - it’s not as if she could do anything now anyways.

Natsu himself was laying on the bench opposite to his best friends, watching them regain lost energy and magical power from the exhausting mission. It was sweet watching them both being calm like this. Of course he truly didn’t mind their friendly bickering. Happy felt comfortable enough with Lucy to show all sides of him to her, both the emotional and the snarky part. He remembered how loud and reductant Lucy was in the past, with her big and crazy reactions to almost everything that happened. Shouting every time Gray stripped or kicking Natsu out of her apartment. She never wavered. Once again, he didn’t actually mind that part, in fact, he really liked it. She had courage to be herself no matter who she was encountering, and her cute reactions often made the enemies favour her. However, she had gotten a lot calmer and sweeter the last two years. It must be that thing they call growing up, huh?

While in the middle of his thoughts, the train started moving extra much, making the salmon haired boy hurl up a mix of whatever he had eaten before boarding the hell-transportation. He really hoped Wendy could learn a new anti motion sickness-spell soon - life hadn’t been too kind since that Troia spell stopped working on him.

***

“Finally!” Natsu kissed the ground in delight of finally leaving the train, being back in their hometown. Lucy ignored him, as usual, and took care of their baggage. After all the years she had known him, he was still just as embarrassing to be out in public with. How hadn’t he picked up on social cues yet? Happy was still asleep in her arms, so after struggling for a bit she finally kicked some sense in Natsu, somehow without waking the cat.

“Come on and help with the bags you moron!” She scolded quietly, not wanting to disturb the sweet little animal who conveniently used her left boob as a pillow. “You don’t want to wake Happy, right? He deserves some rest, you know.”

Natsu obliged to the blonde’s orders. She was helping him nurse Happy back to full health after all. Grabbing the baggage, they soon headed back to Lucy’s apartment. The sun had started setting and he really craved that soft bed of hers.

Shortly after Lucy had met Natsu, she noticed an odd behaviour with him. Usually when walking back from missions with the entire Team Natsu, the air was filled with discussions. Natsu and Gray bickering in the background, Erza talking strategies with Lucy and Wendy, Happy and Carla talking about fishes or something, and then the occasional bickering between Lucy and Happy. When it was only Natsu, Lucy and Happy though, it was as if a switch had flipped. They rarely spoke, only leaving the sounds of Happy’s purring and Natsu and Lucy’s footsteps in the air. It was never uncomfortable though. They already knew what the other thought, and even if they didn’t know, they never felt the need to rush any conversations. This happened more and more frequently after the Alvarez Empire war, when Natsu had said those words to her. “We’ll be together forever, right?” Not any huge words, not anything complicated - just, the truth. Why would they need to talk all the time when they had forever in front of them. Everything would come in time. Lucy had decided to believe that.

“Hey, Lucy…”

… Did she jinx herself?

“Can we stay at your place? And can you make us some food, pleaaaase?”

Nevermind.

“Whatever, you guys just do what you want anyways.”

***

When they stepped into the apartment Lucy immediately went into the bedroom, carefully dropping off the knocked out exceed on the foot of the bed.

“I’m taking a quick shower, get the meat out of the freezer and defrost it while I’m gone, will you?” Lucy didn’t bother doing that stuff herself - Natsu knew her kitchen almost better than she did, he could figure it out.

Once she was in the shower she finally relaxed. A bath would undeniably be better, but right now she was more focused on getting all the dirt off her body. The mission they had gone on was fairly easy for Lucy and Natsu - the only one who had a hard time was Happy. The bandits had some type of flying ability, and the only way to defeat them was to get close. Therefore, Happy had to switch between them while they regenerated their powers. Lucy had gotten a bit worried when she saw Happy’s fur getting wet from sweat, but the exceed had just shaken her off, staying strong to the end of the mission. Lucy couldn’t help but admire him. If only Carla saw these heroic moments, maybe they would have gotten further in their relationship by now.

That reminded her of how protective Natsu could be. He hated it when Carla was rude to Happy. He didn’t show it, but Lucy saw. His twitching legs and furrowed eyebrows were of course big clues. Yet he still was very supportive. Every time Happy felt down because of Carla's cold behaviour, Natsu cheered him on, giving him money to buy an extra nice fish for Happy to give away. Lucy really had to give them better gift ideas though, once they had tried giving Carla a live eel instead, and she had ended up transforming into a human to run away faster. Who knew she was afraid of eels? And who knew she was that fast in her human form.

Lucy chuckled for herself at the memory. Yeah, she should definitely tell Happy to give her flowers or tea or something. She could at least spare Carla the terror of any other horrible sea creature.

After a quick round of shampoo, conditioner and body soap, she finally got out of the shower. She tried running a brush through her hair in an attempt to sort out the knots, but she quickly gave up. She would just have to brush it out when it dried.

When she left the bathroom, only dressed in a towel, she was met by a nice smell and the sound of sizzling coming from the kitchen.

“So, what are we having?” Lucy asked, secretly happy with getting a meal cooked for her. She would say that she was glad that it was free for a change, but she did buy the groceries with her own money after all.

“Curry ‘n rice,” Natsu answered, tongue sticking out of his mouth as he concentrated.

“Sounds nice. I’ll put on some clothes, then I’ll take over. You can take a bath or something while I finish it,” Lucy offered, once again not waiting for an answer before going into her bedroom where her wardrobe stood. She picked out a thin crop top and a pair of shorts in a soft material, before heading back into the kitchen.

“Now shoo,” the blonde said, dragging Natsu away from the bubbling pot.

“Wait! I didn’t turn on the stoves!”

Lucy grunted loudly.

“Whatever, I’ll fix it. You stink, here’s a towel, the opened medicines are to the left on the sink.”

Who knew the fire dragon slayer had such a passion for cooking? Lucy was pretty sure that was something only she knew about. Team Natsu never really had dinner the same way at Lucy’s. The only possible person who could have known about his cooking skills would be Lisanna, but to be frank, he didn’t really have enough control over his fire back when they played house. Happy knew about this skill of course, but then again, how could he not know about it? They lived together for god's sake.

As the clock struck 10pm Natsu finally left the bathroom, dressed in only a pair of chequered pyjama pants.

“Do you know where my t-shirt is?” He asked, lifting one of the pillows that laid on the couch.

“Oh yeah, it’s in the washer. Seriously, if you keep leaving your sleepover clothes here then you at least have to learn to wash them regularly!” Lucy scolded half heartedly, blushing slightly at the sight of her half naked best friend. It’s not as if she was immune to his muscular torso.

“Whatever, it’s not as if you ever come close enough to smell it anyways,” Natsu murmured as he made his way over to the table.

“Do I need to remind you that I also use the couch that I accidentally happen to OWN. If your clothes smell, then the couch will smell too. You seriously have to break your habit of sneaking in,” she groaned, knowing that her words had no effect whatsoever. “Nevermind that for now, did you see if Happy has woken up?”

“Nopfe, he’f ftill refting,” Natsu grunted, mouth full of hot curry.

“I’ll cut up some fish for him later then, hopefully he’ll get his energy back after a good meal.” Lucy pondered for a second, wondering if she maybe should wake him up anyways. He never liked missing meals and then having to eat alone. Lucy sometimes wondered if it was because he was unaccustomed to being alone, seeing as he always had the guild or Natsu around.

The mage decided to let him sleep on for now. Happy could wake one of them up if he wanted a snack in the middle of the night. It was already late enough for Lucy, so she sat down, finally digging in on the homemade food.

“Delicious!” She beamed, letting out a satisfied sigh before continuing letting the hot curry warm her up from the inside. Nothing tastes as good as a newly cooked meal after a long mission.

Natsu watched as the woman in front of him made a happy little dance before digging in. He had already eaten his portion of the food - almost four times the amount that Lucy had on her plate, and sat now and just watched as Lucy regained energy and warmth.

This was one of his favourite moments of the week. After many days sleeping in tents, constantly being on alert and never even getting the chance to clean themselves up, the smell and familiarity of Lucy’s apartment really made him feel safe. Sure, he might be a bit barbaric on missions, itching after someone to fight, not really caring about living conditions while he actually was on the mission, but getting back to this smell always made him shocked by how tense he had been the last week. Finding this type of ritual of sleeping the first night after a mission with Lucy, brought a sense of relaxation he didn’t know his body or mind possessed. Just coming home, chatting with Happy or starting cooking while Lucy took a bath or shower, and then himself taking a shower either while Lucy finishes or starts the food, or just after the meal. There was still one problem in Natsu’s opinion though. He still slept on the couch. After all these years she still wouldn’t let them share bed unless she was drunk or if he snuck in during the night.

While Lucy’s apartment smelled great, there was just something else he felt when he shared bed with her. Sometimes he got a boner, he was not going to lie, she is very attractive after all, but most of the time he felt something else. It could be called love, but for some reason that just didn’t sit right with Natsu. Love was great, no doubt, he had felt it lots of times, to his father, to his guildmates and to material things, but sleeping with Lucy was… Comforting. The combination of the sound of her soft breathing and her steady heart, and her cool skin against his hot, and then that special smell that he only could smell when they got really close. All this made him feel… Safe. Happy. Reassured. Content. If family could be an emotion, that is what he felt.

Even better was when Happy curled up in the middle of them, making Natsu able to smell and hear him too. Sometimes, when Natsu felt bold and cuddled really close to her, Happy would lay above their heads or close to Lucy’s belly. That’s when he truly slept the best.

Natsu knew that he wouldn’t exchange these two people for the world.

“Ya done?” He grinned, watching Lucy swallow the last forkful of food.

“Yep, that meal was exactly what I needed!” She purred, patting her belly. Natsu stood up and started putting away their plates.

“We’ll wash them tomorrow,” he croaked, filling the pots with water so that they would be easier to clean the next morning. Lucy just agreed as she began cutting up that fish she had promised Happy. When she was done Natsu had already removed all the dishes from the table.

“Let’s go to bed now,” Lucy suggested, a big yawn escaping her lips.

A small part of Natsu didn’t want to go to sleep just yet. His wounds were itching and he didn’t look forward to leaving Lucy’s presence. With Happy in Lucy’s bed he didn’t have anyone to cuddle with.

So, Natsu did what anyone would do in his situation. He took the lead, grabbing Lucy’s wrist on the way to her bed, only to gently fall into it and pull Lucy closer, wrapping his arms around her.

“N-Natsu… Hey... “ The mage was blushing furiously at his actions. Not that this was the first time he had done so, in fact, it happened more and more regularly nowadays.

She didn’t dislike sleeping in the same bed as Natsu. Quite the opposite to be honest. When she was cold she found herself cuddling up closer to his chest, feeling safe in his muscular arms. When it was hot outside they actually kept a good distance - but they always touched in one way or another. Legs tangled together, feet touching, or Lucy’s personal favourite - hand holding.

She vividly remembered that hot summer night in June, shortly after her birthday, when Natsu had climbed into her bed again. Natsu didn’t understand why she kept turning away and moving from him - he didn’t understand how unpleasant the summer heat was for normal people. He was a fire dragon slayer after all. In the end they just laid in bed, back to back. Natsu really wanted to turn the other way and hold his best friend close, but he knew that she was uncomfortable in the heat. Lucy didn’t know if it was her or Natsu who had grabbed the other’s hand in the middle of the night, but she remembered how important she felt that morning. He had respected her boundaries and still found a way to hold her close. It was heartwarming. Except the part when she saw that Happy had woken up early and raided her fridge in hope to find some yummy fishes. They ate breakfast at the guild that morning.

However, keeping that night in mind, Lucy finally gave in to Natsu’s demands.

“At least let us get under the covers first,” she mumbled, squeezing out of Natsu’s bear hug. She pulled Natsu to his feet as well and then crawled under her bedsheets. Natsu stood beside her bed, pouting in disappointment. Lucy giggled for herself before lifting up one side of the blanket, inviting him into bed. Natsu immediately lit up, jumping into bed with her, almost giving in to the temptation to cuddle up in her arms and sleep on those soft, squishy boobies. Once again, who could blame him for wanting to do that - not only would it be soft, warm and comfortable, but he would also be able to hear and feel the beat of her heart.

Of course, he didn’t do that. Natsu wasn’t a pervert (sometimes he wondered if he was though), but ever since Lucy showed up in his life his hormones had been acting up a bit. He had once felt a similar way for Lisanna, but nothing really blossomed on that part. Now he found himself accidentally seeing or feeling the curves of Lucy’s (sometimes naked) body and he actually got a boner from it. He had heard Gray and Loke talk about relieving themselves if the tension got too bad, but he only tried it once. He felt bad about it later though because he had thought some nasty thoughts about Lucy, so he never tried it again. No, Natsu wasn’t actually a pervert. He could go almost a month without thinking about Lucy in a non-platonic way, but one week every month Lucy smelled different. Wondering about this odd occasion, he had actually asked Levy about it. She had gotten all flustered and thought he meant that Lucy and the other girls smelled period blood, but then he explained that that wasn’t it. It came almost a week before that, and only from Lucy too. Levy explained that it possibly had something to do with her ovulation - the perfect time to impregnate a woman. This time Natsu had gotten flustered instead. He didn’t want to impregnate Lucy! Not then anyways. Not now either. He was far too young to have kids, and besides, it was his best friend they were talking about.

No, Natsu wasn’t a pervert. He never acted on these thoughts. He knew that Lucy wanted her lines between friends, best friends and lovers to be clear. Natsu didn’t mind being all over the place. He could easily bleed over all the lines, just them being them was enough for him. But Lucy wanted them to stay as best friends - not because she didn’t want to be with Natsu, but she just wasn’t ready to take that step yet. And Natsu respected that. He wasn’t sure of course if she ever wanted to have a romantic relationship with him - how could he be? But he had faith that they both would come around some day and show the world that relationships don't need to be complicated - they just needed to be happy together, and if kissing, cuddling, chatting or raw sex was the source of it, then so be it. In Natsu’s opinion anyways. Lucy still wanted things a bit more traditional, but it was clear that as long as they made each other happy it didn’t really matter if they had ever gone on a real date or not. They didn’t mind being more than friends, less than lovers.

Now, since Natsu respected Lucy, he didn’t use her chest as his pillow - even if it tempted him to, but instead he laid down beside her, faces facing, and he did the one thing he had never done before. As Natsu settled down beside Lucy, they had locked eyes. Lucy’s big brown eyes were dazy of tiredness, and her lips were turned upwards in a little smile. Natsu had a crooked smirk on his lips, still happy with his accomplishment of sleeping in her bed. As they gazed into each other's eyes they somehow found themself moving a tiny bit closer. Natsu lifted his head up slightly and gave Lucy a light peck on her lips. The kiss was short, Lucy had barely felt Natsu’s dry, chapped lips against hers before it was over. She just smiled though, not feeling as frustrated as she probably could have felt.

“Goodnight Natsu,” she said as a light blush danced on her cheeks.

“Goodnight Lucy,” Natsu whispered back. They both closed their eyes but still felt their hearts flutter as their hands reached each other.

Yeah. There was no need to rush this family. They understood each other perfectly fine, and after all, they were going to stay together forever, right?

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