#i’ve always said plain it or lose it

[pathologicalreid]

hello my new favorite tumblr writer 😇 i will b honest i have never requested anything before so!! bear with me. however the spencer reid brainrot is all too real SO would you be open to doing anything with a hotchner!fem!reader? bau or not for the reader! something something hotch is very hesitant about their relationship but maybe reader gets caught in the crossfire of something and hotch and prentiss see them together afterward and prentiss is like “that looks pretty real to me.” DOES THAT MAKE ANY SENSE OKAY I’M LEAVING NOW THANK YOUUUU 🫡

a father's daughter | S.R.

in which your father doesn't approve of your relationship, but who knows how he'll react when reid jumps into action after a threat against your life

who? spencer reid x hotchner!fem!bau!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, blood, stitches, hospitals, medical inaccuracy word count: 2.03k a/n: anon you are legendary. this is an incredible request and i am so honored to be your new favorite tumblr writer! i am an absolute sucker for anything hotchner!reader (or rossi!reader) so i absolutely ate this request up! (also if anyone wanted to drop a request in my inbox... it would be welcome)

Aaron Hotchner was the most professional person in the BAU, except when it came to you. You, like him, had gone to law school. You were a public defender for just a short time before being put into WITSEC, and when your mother died, you applied to the FBI Academy.

Plain and short, it was nepotism, but no one was going to argue with the man whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. Your dad wanted you in the BAU so he could keep an eye on you, and there was nothing Erin Strauss could do about it. What your father couldn’t control, was your relationship with Reid.

He could tell you that he didn’t approve, but so long as David Rossi, king of inter-bureau mingling, was around, he couldn’t actually do anything to stop you. “I’m just saying that I’ve never seen Reid be consistent with a relationship,” your dad said, having pulled you away from the team to, once again, try to warn you off of your relationship.

“He’s been pretty consistent for the last seven months,” you responded, rifling through the victims' files that were in your arms.

You started to make your way out of the empty office when your father spoke again, “And he’s too old for you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you pivoted and faced your father, “He’s three years older than I am, I’m twenty-six. That’s hardly an age gap to bat an eye at.” The two of you had always had a rocky relationship, he missed a large portion of your childhood due to this job and you always tried to not resent him for it.

Your parents’ marriage fell apart, neither of them handled it well, and you weren’t all that surprised. They had gotten married when your mom got pregnant with you because they thought that was what they were supposed to do, and when Jack couldn’t keep them together, everything fell apart.

“You have no right to lecture me on relationships, Agent Hotchner,” you snapped, staring him down. Daring him to challenge you.

He sighed, obviously trying not to lose his patience with you. “I’d just hate for you to find out you wasted your time on something that wasn’t real.”

The door behind you swung open, you spun on your heels to face Emily. “Sorry, uh, we have a location, Morgan’s coordinating with SWAT,” she said, looking between you and your father.

“Great, let’s go,” your father said, his parental demeanor falling away as his Unit Chief mask took its place.

You walked out the door to see the rest of the team, Rossi tossed you a Kevlar vest as you walked over to where Spencer was standing with the police chief, “Where are we headed?” You asked, undoing the Velcro on the vest and pulling it over your torso. The beige precinct was buzzing as agents and officers prepared to break into the UnSub’s home base. Hopefully to find his most recent victim still alive.

Reid reached over and adjusted the strap of your vest, making sure it was evenly tightened over your shoulders. “Garcia found a warehouse on the other side of town. It’s being rented out under an anagram of the first victim’s name,” he said, gently squeezing your arm before dropping his hands back to his side.

Nodding, you followed the rest of the team out the metal doors of the precinct and into the black SUVs. “Your UnSub’s name is Jonas Watts, he used a different name to rent the space but the account he uses to pay for it is under his name,” Garcia’s voice rang through the speaker as she told you about the perpetrator. “He checks every UnSub box we have, raised by a single father after his mother left, and… oh, multiple arrests for assault.”

You looked up to the driver’s seat, your dad was white-knuckling the steering wheel, entirely focused on driving as you listened to Garcia reciting the UnSub’s rap sheet.

When you arrived at the warehouse SWAT was already there and Morgan started organizing the tactical assault. Drawing your weapon, you nodded at your teammate when he instructed you to go around the back with himself and your father. Allowing Morgan to kick the door down, the three of you held your firearms up and began clearing the warehouse.

Further away, you heard Emily and Spencer clearing the front. “Clear, moving up,” you called into your radio as you approached the stairs, stepping on them carefully so they didn’t creak. On the landing, you looked at a trail of blood on the ground. “There’s a blood trail in the upper west wing,” you whispered.

“Move up, little Hotch, I’m right behind you,” Morgan responded.

Rolling your eyes at the nickname, one that you had begged him to stop using, you moved forward, keeping your firearm aimed right in front of you. Turning into the room that the blood trail led to, you immediately ducked when you saw a knife coming for you. Keeping your gun aimed, you faced down the UnSub, “Jonas Watts, FBI!” You announced yourself, scanning the room for the girl he took last night.

Watts shook his head, “You’re not supposed to be here! You can’t be here!” He shouted in distress.

“Where’s the girl, Jonas? Where did you take Isobel?” You asked him, not seeing her in the room the two of you were in. There was another entrance on the left of him.

He stepped toward you, and you cocked your gun, “I don’t have her now. I lost her, she’s lost,” he said, there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Unnerved, you decided to take a leap of faith, “Jonas, where’s your partner?” A partner hadn’t been part of the profile, but the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. The crimes were too complex, it didn’t match up with something as simple as using an anagram of a victim’s name for the warehouse rental.

Morgan filed in behind you, aiming his gun at Jonas, same as you. “Time’s running out, Jonas. If you tell us about your partner we can help you,” he said, slowly inching toward Watts.

“It’s too late,” Jonas wailed.

Someone knocked into you from behind, causing you to stumble forward before you were pulled to your feet. One arm was locked around your torso, and another was holding a knife to your throat. “If you don’t leave now, I’ll cut her fucking throat!” The unnamed man said from behind you, he was almost impossibly tall, easily overpowering you.

You didn’t dare move, not with that knife to your throat, one false move and you’d bleed out. Morgan shouted for him to let you go, but he just pressed the knife tighter to your neck, splitting the skin.

Shutting your eyes, you tried not to cry, fearing the damage it would do to your throat.

Your captor held you tightly to him, using your body to block Morgan from shooting. Something warm trickled down your collarbone, and you weren’t sure if it was blood or tears.

For a moment, you thought you could swing your foot back into his knee, but the fear of having your carotid cut outweighed your bravery.

Ever since you were a kid, you thought death would be quiet. Something you slipped into like sleep, but your death was loud, and it left your ears ringing.

The afterlife was the weirdest place you’ve ever been, someone was calling your name, and you heard your rights being read. Although, why you would need your Miranda Rights in the afterlife you had no idea.

“Angel, please open your eyes,” someone said.

Confused, you opened your eyes and saw familiar eyes staring down at you. Golden and bleary. Spencer, Spencer was here. You tried to sit up, but he held you down, keeping a hand on your throat.

Morgan was shouting for medical, saying there was an agent down. You turned your head to see the still unidentified UnSub on the ground, shot through the temple. Using his free hand to turn your chin, “Don’t look,” Spencer whispered. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, angel.”

If you weren’t still coming down from an adrenaline high, you might’ve smiled at the irony of the nickname. Being called ‘angel’ after having your neck cut felt like tempting fate.

Where was your dad? Of everyone here, you expected him to be here, barking orders at people.

As if summoned by your thoughts, your dad appeared, nearly hauling an EMT behind him, “Help her,” he said.

Yeah, that absolutely tracked.

The EMT’s packed your wound and assured everyone that your carotid had not been slit, against your protests, the ambulance brought you to the hospital for stitches. Emily had run to the hotel to get your go bag, allowing you to change out of your bloodied clothes.

Thankfully, the doctors said you didn’t need to stay overnight, meaning you and the team got to go home. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked while you were waiting to board the jet.

You hummed, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes, and leaning against a car, “Tired, but I’m alright.” Tired might have been underselling it, you felt like all of the energy had been physically drained from your body. “You worry too much,” you whispered, closing your eyes for just a moment. Your throat was a little raspy, but it should go back to normal after a couple of days.

“Your throat was cut about four hours ago, some might say I’m not worrying enough,” he responded, reaching down, and picking up your bag, carrying it over to the jet once they got the okay to board. On the jet, he gestured to the seat, “Lay down, get some rest.”

You furrowed your brows, “Isn’t it kind of frowned upon to take up a whole seat?” You asked, of course, sometimes it happened, but you didn’t want to take up too much space.

Spencer cocked his head at you, “I don’t think anyone is going to fight you on it, love.”

Taking a deep breath, you sat down on the seat, laying down and closing your eyes, falling asleep before you even left the tarmac.

Being the Unit Chief had its perks, surely, but the piles of paperwork sometimes felt never-ending. Aaron took a deep breath before he closed the file, Rossi sat across from him, nursing a glass of whiskey.

“Hey,” Prentiss whispered, taking the seat next to him and setting her glass of water down on the small table. “Do you see that?” She said, gesturing with her head toward where you were lying down, asleep.

Right next to you was Reid, who usually had his nose buried in a book at this point in a flight, but he was wide awake, and all of his focus seemed to be on you. Begrudgingly, Hotch watched as Spencer reached over and tucked a blanket around you as if he was afraid you’d freeze on the temperature-controlled jet. “What about it?” Hotch asked, reaching over for the next file.

His eyes flicked up again, Spencer was sitting on the floor of the jet. Everyone had elected to leave the couch seats for the two of you, but the one across the aisle from you was empty. Like Reid didn’t even want you to be any more than one foot away from him.

Leaning back in the chair, Emily shook her head, “That’s what we in the business call hypervigilance.”

Hotch didn’t respond, he just spared another glance over at the two of you. “’We in the business’?” He inquired, humoring Prentiss.

“I’m just saying… the hovering? The blanket? I don’t know about you, but that looks pretty real to me,” she said, leaning back in the leather seat.

Silently, he glared, it would seem his hopes of getting the team to stop eavesdropping on familial conversations were quashed.

“Just let the kids be, Aaron,” Rossi said, grinning into his glass.

He cleared his throat and flipped open the new file before he acquiesced, “Fine, for now.”

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[eraenaa]

Please, Please, Please (Rafe's Edition)

Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Being with Rafe, a notorious hotheaded drug dealer, you knew others would question your relationship— especially your parents, who had never been fond of him. But when his habits had been too much to handle, you knew that you would prefer heartbreak to a broken ego. 

Warnings: ¿Slight Angst?,Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,480

You took a risk—a big one at that. Rafe had always been a boy your parents, friends, and almost everyone warned you about, but you ignored their qualms, for there was this persistent pull to him that you could not deny. 

Growing up, it was plain that he was a bully. He was always one to torment other children in the playground or at school, but you were saved from his hostility, him only as going as far as teasing you because you were easily baited. Later, he did admit that it was his only way to gain your attention. You had hoped he would grow out of his tormenting ways when the two of you reached maturity, but it only severed. He always got into pointless and petty fights and was scolded by his teachers and father as he was often suspended from school, but their warnings did nothing to deter him. When you reached high school, you once again hoped he would clean up his act, wanting to fall fully for him, but his rash decision, raging temper, and ill vices had only multiplied— hindering you from admitting the attraction you had to him since childhood. 

It was plain that any pull you had towards him should be ignored and buried deep inside, for he only came with trouble. It also did not help that he had doubled his efforts to show his interest in you. Giving you little gifts and trinkets he knew you were entirely fond of. Scaring away any romantic prospects, labeling you as ‘his’ though nothing between you two was truly set in stone. So, you could not help yourself to succumb to him— to finally be his, just like your heart in childhood longed for. As years passed, you would silently beg him not to prove you right— that he could overcome the judgments passed on him, but your pleas were moot, for Rafe could never fully shed the true yet cruel perceptions of him. 

You tried to keep him at arm’s length for as long as you could, but even the mightiest and most stubborn of soldiers falter and lose their sensibilities. The two of you started with hookups, not entirely romantic, yes, but it was enough for you to fall further for him. You would often sneak around at parties, making out in the bathroom or an empty closet or even a dark corner somewhere. You thought the both of you could live happily even though no one knew you were with him, so no one could pass their judgments. Things were quick to escalate with you giving him your first kiss to him taking your first time. 

“Rafe,” You cried out in pain, him drawing circles upon your sensitive bud as his well-endowed length pushed its way in you,  him hushing and kissing your tears away as he fully sheathed himself in your cunt— finally taking all of you after years of patience and restraint. “Just a little more, pretty girl… you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” He hissed as he felt you clench around him, your cunt tighter than he had hoped, and Rafe felt lightheaded.  You nodded weakly and looked at him through teared-filled eyes. “Fucking hell, baby… you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned as he cautiously thrust into you, waiting for your pained expression to turn to pleasure. 

“Rafe… oh god, I— just like that,” you said, almost incoherently. “Such a good girl taking all of my cock… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this… how long I’ve wanted you.” Rafe gritted through pleasure. That night, you knew there was no turning back; every part of you was Rafe’s that even your mind could not even find caution. 

However, just like in any other relationship, there were trials. Your trial was to keep Rafe at bay, not to let him sink into his addiction and violence. Your earnest effort was poured into his rehabilitation and to calm his forever violent being. Rafe’s trial was you keeping your relationship a secret. He wanted to shout it and make it known throughout the Outer Banks that you were his. That the only girl he had ever wanted— loved was finally his, but you were persistent in keeping the both of you a secret, having to sneak around. The touches, longing, pleasure, and love need to be hidden in the dark. Sometimes, he wondered if you were ashamed of him, but he did not like dwelling on the thought, for it only brought devastation in him. There was a painful throb in his chest and a pit in his stomach when he would think of the matter. 

“Rafe, do you really have to… do this?” You asked as your eyes flew towards the packet of white substance he was planning to sell at a party you two would attend later that day. “You know I have to, baby… it’ll be quick, I swear. Those kids always sell out my stock,” He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You licked your lips and stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe had stopped using the moment the two of you went official, but no matter what half-hearted ultimatum you threw at him, you could not hinder him from engaging in illegal dealings. 

“But what if you get caught… your father h—“ Rafe sighed and kissed your lips shut. He appreciated your concern greatly; you were the only one who genuinely cared and loved him, but he could not listen to your concern, for he had no actual choice but to sell. He had great financial needs, especially because you were with him; he needed to support both of you. To show you that he can provide you with the well-off life you already lived. Yes, his family did have money, a great deal of it, but he didn’t have the want to be indebted and be under his father’s thumb. 

“I won’t. Stop worrying, baby; you know it makes your stomach upset,” It was half concern and half tease; you could only roll your eyes at his words. “Just… just be safe— be cautious and—“ Rafe kissed your lips shut once more, smirking against your lips as he could not help but be flattered by your concern. “I know what I’m doing.” He said confidently. You were unconvinced but still gave a nod, not wanting to push and anger him. 

True enough to his word, nothing of note happened at the party, much to your relief. The following day, you did not expect to see Rafe, for you had told him you were busy with engagements with your parents. “What are you doing here?” You asked with a frantic smile as you felt arms wrap around you. You were in the country club’s restaurant waiting for your parents to arrive. 

Rafe did not answer your question; he simply just connected your lips, and your eyes grew wide. From where you sat, you gently pushed him away, and you felt guilt course your system as you saw hurt in his ocean eyes. “My parents are here,” You say warily, further putting distance between you. Rafe stood straight and frowned, “So?” He asked, and you smoothened the fabric of your dress in nervousness. “You know why,” You say softly, and you hear him scoff and shake his head. “Baby, it’s been two years… how long are you gonna hide us?” He asked, and you felt further guilt take over you. You parted your lips to speak but you hear your parents call for your name, making you stand in surprise and hesitantly greet them. 

“So sorry we’re late, darling; your father and I could not escape our meeting!” Your mother sighed and patted your cheek affectionately. “Oh, you have company,” Your mother said in surprise as she noticed Rafe standing behind you. You feel your stomach drop as your father’s eyes fly to Rafe. “You’re Ward’s son, aren’t you?” He asked, uncertain as he and your mother only spent scarce time on the island. “Rafael, was it?” Your father asked, and you chewed on your cheek as you watched their interaction. “Rafe,” he gritted, and you gave him a look, “… sir. It’s Rafe,” He corrected, and your father nodded in acknowledgment. 

You took in a deep breath as your father assisted your mother to sit and motioned for you to do the same, but you were hesitant as Rafe still stood by the side of your table. You look to your mother, and she purses her lips, “Bye, Rafe, tell Sarah I’ll see her later,” You suddenly say as his cue to leave; you clench your hands around the fabric of your dress as you see anger and hurt in his eyes as the words left your lips, expecting you to invite him to your family’s meal and hopefully reveal your relationship to your parents. “Yeah, see you around,” He gritted out and stomped out of the restaurant, anger exuding from him. 

You took a menu into your hands and finally let out a breath of relief. “I don’t want you to associate yourself with that type of company,” Your father suddenly said. You lowered the menu in your hands, “What?” You asked quietly. “I do not want you to associate yourself with that boy,” You blinked at your father’s words. “He’s Sarah’s brother,” You say meekly. “Even so. He only comes with trouble, darling. We are here only a handful of months every year, but the rumors and talk about him and his… habits are deafening,” Your mother chimed in, and you lowered your gaze. “We are not hindering you from being friends with Sarah, but it would be best if you keep your distance from her brother— we don’t need you being influenced by that, Rafe,” You bit your lip as you slowly nodded, your parents expecting a response of agreement from you. 

After the day spent with your parents, you rushed towards Tannyhill as you feel Rafe was not too happy with you. He would usually message and call you throughout the day to see how you were, but not even one notification came from him, rendering you further in guilt. “I’m so sorry,” You say in a plea as you knelt on Rafe’s bed, him sitting idly by the headboard, avoiding your gaze, a prominent furrow in his brows. You placed your hand on his leg, and you sighed as he moved his limb away from your touch. You watched as he crossed his arms across his chest and turned further away from you. It shouldn’t amuse you, but he looked like a little kid who was on the verge of a tantrum. 

“I really am sorry. I just wasn’t ready to tell them yet,” You say and move closer to Rafe, taking hold of his hand. “It’s been two years. If you still aren’t ready now, when will you be?” He grumbled, and you bit your lip. 

“Rafe, you know it’s complicated, my parents are…” You trailed, unable to find the word. “Just fucking say you’re ashamed of me!” Rafe seethed and stood from his bed. Your lips parted in shock at his words, “That’s not true! I love you; I will never be ashamed of you!” You defended and stood as well, following close to him. “Yeah? Then why the fuck are we a secret?” You lowered your gaze in shame as he screamed at you. “Because my parents won’t approve,” You said truthfully. “Rafe, they still see you as a hothead junkie… and I know you’ve changed— I’ve seen you change, but they haven’t. And they're just… they don’t want me near you,” You said, and Rafe shook his head, a gnawing feeling in his gut. He didn’t care for the other’s opinion of him, but now he could not help but too because your parent’s opinion of him was what was hindering you from being fully his. 

“I just fear that if we tell them now, they’ll take drastic measures to— to separate us,” You say in fear. “What?” He asked and made you lift your gaze and look at him. “They’ve been wanting to move to New York for a while now— for the business, but I keep insisting on staying here,” You admitted, having hidden that information from Rafe for a year because you didn’t want it to go in between your relationship. You hear Rafe’s ragged breathing, “How much longer?” He asked in aggravation. “I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “That’s not a fucking answer,” You hear how hard he tried hard to control his rage, to not point his anger at you. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “I know how you’ve changed— I’ve watched you change, and I am so proud of you… but,” You bit your lip as you tried to decide if you should continue speaking. “But what?” He seethed. “You still deal drugs… you haven’t cut the final tie to that life,” You say lowly. “Baby, you know why I do it,” You furrowed your brow; do you truly know why? You began to wonder. Rafe saw your confusion and spoke once more. 

“I’m doing it for us— for you, so I can support you. So we can be free in the future. Just you and me.” He said and cupped your cheeks, but his explanation did not aid your bewilderment. “Rafe, you know I am not with you for money… I don’t need you to provide for me, and I most certainly don’t need tainted currency.” 

“I know you don’t need me to provide for you— I want to provide for you,” You sighed as your heart doubled at his words. “I appreciate that… but, my love, there are other ways… when we build our life together, we don’t need this type of money. We could find jobs in the meantime, and in a few years, I’ll have hold of my trust fund; we could use that to build the life we want.” Rafe shook his head at the solution you presented, it was simply not good enough for him. He would not subject you to finding a job and dipping into your trust fund just because he could not provide for you properly. 

“Don’t be stubborn,” you sighed, “Rafe… I— This can’t go on, ‘cause—“ you quickly halted your words before you uttered something you might regret. “Cause what?” Rafe questioned, and his frown deepened as you took off his hold on your face. “Rafe, I love you.. but I can’t be with you if you still do this,” You said, solemnly. Rafe felt his stomach twist at your words. 

“You accused me of being ashamed of you… I am not, I could never be.” You spoke, voice already heavy with emotion. “I am, however, ashamed of what you do— I’m sorry— I know you are doing it with the purest of intentions, but there are other ways to earn money; you know there are.” Rafe felt his body turn rigged with rage. “And think of the scandal of it all… I love you, but please, please, please, you must understand that I cannot tarnish my and my family’s reputation with this,” You feel a tear fall from your eyes, and you cannot even stomach to look at Rafe in the eyes. 

“Get out,” You hear him say through gritted teeth after a moment of steely silence passed. You finally placed your gaze upon his and all you could see was anger and hurt, “Get the fuck out!” He screamed, and you backed away, not challenging him anymore, and just did as he told. As you sat at his bedroom door, you bit your tongue to stifle a sob as you heard him let out his rage, thrashing and ruining his room, throwing and breaking anything and everything. 

Three weeks passed, and you did nothing but mourn your secret relationship with Rafe. You barely left the house, actively avoiding the places you knew you would see him in. Only going out on the days you had memorized he had ‘business’ to attend to and won’t be out of town. A part of you felt entirely guilty, ending it and crushing your heart and his, but the more rational part of you saw that it was needed. Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is certainly another. And you thought you could handle a broken heart better than a tarnished reputation. 

“Hey!” You hear banging at your front door, and you frown from where you sit in the living room. You made cautious steps as the door pounded. You would lie if the violent banging of the wooden door did not make you hope it was Rafe, but as you looked through the peephole, you saw his sister. “Sarah?” You asked as you opened the door, and she smiled at you. “Where have you been? You’ve been MIA the past few weeks! Are you sick?” She asked as you ushered her inside your house. 

“Uhm… just haven’t been feeling well,” You fibbed as you took her to the kitchen and handed her some refreshments. “Are you better now?” You gave her a forced smile and nodded your head. “Great! Because you’re coming with me to a party!” You frowned at her words, “I don’t know… I’m not really up for a party,” You say softly, and Sarah shakes her head. “Come on! It’s Top’s birthday— he even sent me here to convince you we miss you!” Sarah pleaded, and your broken heart grew warm at her words. You took a moment before answering, “Fine,” You sighed and you saw clear excitement in her eyes as she had convinced you. 

“When is it?” You asked as Sarah took hold of your wrist. “Now! Come one, let’s get you ready!” You laughed as she hurriedly led you to your room and ready you for the party. “There are a lot of cute guys there… might wanna get to know them,” You could only blink at her words. Sarah sighed as you stood before your closet, “I… I know about you and Rafe,” She suddenly confessed, and you could not find it in yourself to be surprised. “And I’m not trying to bum you out, but maybe you should try to move on, find someone else… he certainly has,” You feel your heart pit at the last words she mumbled. “What?” You asked meekly. Sarah fidgeted with her fingers, “He’s been fucking his way through the island,” She said lowly. You sucked on your lip; you did expect it. He was a notorious playboy before you two went official, so it was only fitting he waltzes back into old patterns after your relationship’s demise. 

As you entered the party with Sarah, you squared your shoulders and avoided the dark corners of the house, knowing that is where Rafe would be. You barely entered the threshold when someone already came up to you, “Can I get you a drink?” A tall guy with brown hair and hazel eyes asked you; you flashed him a quick smile and a nod, and he led you to a drinks table, Sarah whispering ‘good luck’ in your ear as you departed from her side. 

Rafe felt his eye twitch as he saw you by the drink table chatting with a guy wearing one of your dresses that was his favorite. His hold on the wad of cash grew tighter as you had a smile on your face and the guy leaning closer to you. “Yo, dude, can I get my change?” Someone yelled at him through the blaring music. Rafe clenched his jaw and begrudgingly moved his eyes from you to hand the person their change. How could you just walk in this and flirt with guys as if you had not broken his heart? How could you bait him, lead in him with false promises and security— love and care for him like nobody else had, then just fucking leave!

You left the party proper, letting the guy you just met lead you to the backyard to where a swing set was, the both of you needing quiet to hold and actually conversation. He was not Rafe, did not come close, but maybe that was a good thing. You were grateful for the distraction, and if your heart were not so stubborn, you would be more interested in him. You did not know how long the both of you stayed chatting in the swing set, but when the both of you heard the distinct sound of a cop’s car and kids running out of the house, you two quickly stood and saw what was happening.

You took a deep breath as you saw the scene before you: Rafe being handcuffed by the sheriff and his little packets being confiscated. You locked eyes with ocean-blue ones for the first time in three weeks, and you saw nothing but rage and hate in them. You chewed on your cheeks as they escorted Rafe out, and you left the guy you were with to find Sarah. 

Rafe sat in the holding cell, staring blankly at the floor. He did not know how to process anything. He did not know if he should focus more on the fact that he was arrested or the scene he saw in the backyard with you chatting and laughing with some guy but the swing set. Rafe made himself more comfortable in his seat, certain he would stay the night there, but he was surprised as the cell doors were being unlocked. “Get up, Cameron; someone posted your bail.” Rafe blinked. Did his father truly come to get him? Who else would post his bail so quickly?

When Rafe walked out of holding, he saw you speaking with the sheriff, and he felt his knees grow weak. You turned to him, no word uttered before you stepped outside, and he simply followed. Rafe saw his truck parked outside, guessing one of his friends dropped you off before leaving because you never learned how to drive. Rafe sighed, took hold of the passenger side door handle, and opened the door for you, like always, hearing you mumble a quick ‘thanks’ before the two of you were enveloped in silence once more. 

You sat stiffly in your seat as Rafe drove you home, but halfway through the drive, Rafe stopped by the side of the road. “Why?” He suddenly asked as his truck came to an abrupt halt. “I know you didn’t want to bring your dad into this,” You answered quietly. Rafe huffed and shook his head. “No— why the fuck did you end it?” Rafe confronted. “Rafe, I told you, we can’t be together with all this… shit! I— I can’t be with you if you keep doing this. Do you know how scary it is for me? Besides being labeled as the girlfriend of a drug dealer… I have to wait for you to go home, hoping you’re unscathed—that you didn’t get into any danger. I don’t want to live with that kind of anxiety, Rafe!” You paused your lips as you saw his tight grip on the steering wheel. You feel your eyes welling with tears, and you curse yourself as your tears will surely ruin your makeup. 

“Fine, I’ll… I’ll quit,” Rafe said after a moment, and you shook your head and crossed your arms. “Don’t make empty promises, Rafe.” You sighed as he tried to take hold of your hand. “Baby, you know I always keep my promises… remember when I said I’d quit doing drugs? I did it, didn’t I? I did it for you, and I’ll do this for you again,” You swallowed thickly at Rafe’s words. “Rafe…” you trailed, not knowing what to say. “I swear— I can put all of this behind, just… I can’t lose you, not you.” Rafe pleaded and you could only reach forward and kiss him. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want it to come to this— I never wanted to give you an ultimatum bu—“ Rafe cut you off by kissing your lips once more, starved by the taste and feel of you. “I know, baby, I know.” He sighed as he pulled you towards his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed yours. “Sa… Sarah said you’ve been sleeping around,” You say quietly as he leaves marks on your skin. “Bullshit. You know I can’t get it up for anyone else… I only want you,” Rafe breathed out and cupped your cheek. Between his past business and his wallowing for your relationship, where would he even find time or the want for other girls? You slowly nodded and decided to believe his words. 

‘I’ve missed you,” You confessed and saw him smirk. “Good.” He answered and smashed your lips. He quickly undid the zipper of his jeans and hiked up your dress to your waist. You did not even notice it, but you were already so wet for him, your wanting aiding you to sink down on his cock. Rafe watched in amazement as your eyes rolled back and your lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “Oh god… Rafe,” you called out breathlessly, already feeling him brush over the sensitive spot in your cunt. This position was his favorite because he was able to take you deeply, have your body flushed against his, and, most importantly, he got to kiss your plush, sweet lips. 

Rafe yanked down the top of your dress and took your tit into the cavern of his mouth as you bounced on his cock. “God, you’re so pretty,” Rafe breathed out as you clenched further along his length. “And you’re all mine,” he added and gripped your behind. “Yes… all yours,” You agreed as you moaned, the windowing of his truck fogging up. You grew careless at the passing cars, unable to find caution that the both of you might get caught, for you have missed Rafe and his cock terribly. “Are you gonna come, baby? Is my pretty girl gonna come?” Rafe hissed as he felt you rest your head on his broad shoulder; you often did that as you concentrated on reaching your peak. 

He felt you nod, and he reached towards your breast to cup and pinch the bud, earning a loud moan from your lips. Rafe was quick to follow you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, as three weeks without you had made him desperate. “Fuck…” Rafe hissed, and you cupped his cheeks to kiss his lips. 

You breathed heavily as you stared at his hazy eyes. “Rafe?” You called and hummed. “Please, don’t prove ‘em right? Please?” You asked, and Rafe smiled, nodding his head. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” 

[wannabeschyulersister]

might as well be drunk in love

*part two to lovelorn and nobody knows*

part one

warnings: mentions of a panic attack

It had been four and a half months since you left The Bear behind. Despite being so heartbroken over the what happened, you made yourself get up each day. There wasn’t time to let the sadness consume you. You had to move on.

Your dream one day was to open your own restaurant and you couldn’t do that if you were wallowing.

Part of you wanted to cut everyone off for the fresh start that you so desperately wanted. But it wasn’t their fault that you were heartbroken.

Plus, Tina would kick your ass if you stopped talking to her.

So, you kept up with everyone. Minus Carmen. It was just easier this way. The others mentioned him a couple of times and you’d noticed that it got easier and easier to hear his name without it hurting you.

You kept yourself busy with work and maintaining friendships that you built at The Bear while also making new ones. You tried so very hard to keep that tattooed blue-eyed man out of your mind.

The restaurant that you were a sous chef now wasn’t as flashy as The Bear had turned out to be. It still had that family-like style that you liked.

You still followed the same habits that you had at The Bear. So, you grabbed your coat and headed outside for your break. It was around 6:30. You liked to have some calming moments before the dinner rush.

When you stepped out the back door to the alley, you were stunned to see Carmen standing there leaning against the wall.

You both just stood there for a few seconds not saying anything. You wondered if you were truly losing it. If he was just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey.” He said snapping you out of your thoughts. He looked good like always. He was wearing his classic blue jeans, plain white tee and an olive bomber jacket. His hair was haphazardly styled but still looked incredible.

“What are you doing here?”

“I figured you still followed the same break time.”

“How did you know where I worked?”

“Syd told me. Well, I uh, I begged her to tell me. I didn’t know if you’d answer my calls. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“About?”

“Why you really left the restaurant. I asked everyone when you left for a reason why. They didn’t know. Or they just didn’t want to tell me.”

“I already told you why I left.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t believe you, (Y/n).”

“I don’t have time for this.” You started to walk away but Carmen quickly moved in front of you. He blocked the back door.

“You practically ignored me the last two weeks you were there. You didn’t answer my calls and stopped texting me. Was it- did I make you uncomfortable?”

“No!” You quickly answered.

“Then what was it? I’ve been drivin’ myself crazy tryin’ to figure out why you left.”

“Because I’m in love with you!” You wanted to scream out.

Carmen froze. “You’re what?”

Shit. Looks like you actually did say it out loud.

“Uh, I didn’t mean-“

“Wait, you left because you have feelings for me?”

“Please forget that I said that. I didn’t mean it and I- I know that you’re-“ you felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. You couldn’t believe that you’d blurted out that you were in love with Carmen to him.

“Hey. Hey, take a deep breath.” You felt Carmen cup your face between his hands. His face was so close to yours if you leaned up, your lips would be on his.

Carmen breathed in deeply with you, held it for four seconds and then exhaled. The breathing technique normally worked for you but it helped how close in proximity he was. His touch alone put you at ease.

You were more completely overwhelmed instead of having a panic attack. You knew the difference. The embarrassment of having told Carmen that you were in love with him made you just want to fall out.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly after a few moments.

“No, I’m mortified.”

You heard him chuckle, “That’s a first for me. I’ve never had someone say they’re mortified with being in love with me.”

Taking a step back, you removed yourself from his grasp. In that moment, you’d forgotten that he was spoken for. He had a girlfriend. It was inappropriate to be so wrapped up.

“I shouldn’t have said that. You’re with Claire and I respect relationships.”

“(Y/n)-“

“No, you shouldn’t be here. You should be with your girlfriend and I have to get back to work.”

Carmen raised his voice, “(Y/n)!” He stepped closer to you again, “Claire and I broke up.”

“What?”

“After you left, I, uh, I took it really hard. I don’t know if Sydney told you.”

You shook your head, “I told them I didn’t want to hear anything about…you. Or Claire for that matter.”

“I didn’t want to really interact with anyone. Even more than usual. I missed having you around and-and our talks during our break. You always put me in a good fuckin’ mood just by your presence. Sometimes when things were stressful as fuck, I’d look over at you, and-and you’d smile at me and-“

“And what?” He literally had you hanging on every word.

“And I knew that everything would be okay.” He answered looking deeply into your eyes, “When Claire confronted me about how I’d been actin’, I realized then that what we had it wasn’t how it should be.”

“What do you mean?”

“I should get those fuckin’ butterflies that people always talk about. I should be at ease when she’s around. I should be able to sit in silence with her but things not be so damn awkward. It should be comfortable. It should be like how I feel with you.” Carmen finished.

What a turn of events this conversation had turned out to be. One minute, you thought he was some illusion and the next he was practically confessing that he had feelings for you too.

“You have feelings for me?”

Carmen nodded, “It took me to realize it when you walked out of The Bear for the last time. I was scared that I’d never see you again. I gave you space because I thought that’s what you wanted. But, I’m crazy in love with you. I didn’t want to not tell you how I feel.”

“I’m glad you did tell me. I don’t think I’d ever have the courage to tell you.”

“I wish you would’ve. I feel like we wasted a lot of time where we could’ve been together.”

“And what would we be doing if we were together?” You confidently took a step closer to him again. He was close enough to kiss.

Carmen smiled, “Well, first, I’d grab you here,” he placed his hands on your waist pulling you towards his body, “then, I’d lift up your chin lightly,” he did so.

His face tilted down towards you, “and then I’d kiss you.”

When he finally pressed his lips against yours, the world around you went silent. In that damn moment, you didn’t even remember your name.

You didn’t care that it was freezing outside. You didn’t care that you were most likely past your fifteen minutes on your break. You just cared that Carmen Berzatto was kissing you.

The back door opened and you heard your friend and the pastry chef call your name, “(Y/n)? Do you always make out with strangers on your break?”

This made the both of you laugh. “I have to get back inside.”

“Can I come and pick you up afterwards? I want to see you again tonight.” Carmen asked after he kissed you softly one last time.

“I get out around 10. Don’t be a minute late, Berzatto.”

“I wouldn’t dare be late.”

[promptfairy]

❥     𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝟑𝟓𝟖/𝟐 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 ( 𝟏.𝟓 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐗 )   (   𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟑   )    [   𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂    ]   .

change gendered language   &   add context to your needs . happy roleplaying !!  ♡

“   are you really sure that you don’t have a heart ??   ” “   i can give you purpose .   ” “   man ,   i miss the old times .   ” “   bet you don’t know why the sun sets red .   ” “   like i asked ,   know - it - all .   ” “   you worried about the new kid ??   ” “   you said the same exact thing the other day .   ” “   i don’t even know what a heart is .   ” “   i have to keep fighting the darkness .   so i can be whole .   ” “   c’mon ,   let’s get some ice cream .   ” “   i’m gonna be away for a while ,   starting tomorrow .   ” “   i wish somebody told me these things .   ” “   find them ,   &   dispose of them .   ” “   this place is so much nicer without the loudmouths .   ” “   you earned the icing on the cake .   ” “   this is such a great spot   . . .   how’d you find it ??   ” “   we’re not even supposed to   ‘  be  ’   in the first place .   ” “   he looks a lot like you .   ” “   my name is of no importance .   ” “   i hope that you can join me next time .   ” “   what’s the matter ??   you look like you’ve seen a ghost .   ” “   you had me worried .   ” “   i guess i just needed a little time to sort out my feelings ,   you know ??   ” “   what ,   not even   one little word   of appreciation ??    ” “   good to see you made it back safe .   ” “   i moved things along just the way you wanted .   ” “   he must’ve rubbed off on me .   ” “   friends need to lean on each other every now   &   then .   ” “   just eat your ice cream .   ” “   best friends are different from plain friends ,   right ??   ” “   let us remember why we are here   &   what we hope to achieve .   ” “   all this fighting   . . .   i wonder what it’s for .   ” “   i just don’t see why having a heart is that important .   ” “   i think i’ve always been pretty much the same .   ” “   i wonder what kind of guy i was before   . . .   ” “   i thought you said you were tough .   ” “   buy me one   &   we’ll call it even .   ” “   i hope we can always be just like this forever .   ” “   well   . . .   nothing lasts forever ,   you know ??   ” “   wow ,   that was   so   not you .   ” “   ever heard of knocking ??   what do you want   ??   ” “   i can handle all the dirty work .   ” “   i knew you’d be here .   ” “   i hope we get another vacation soon .   ” “   i’m not going to tell you   all   my dark secrets .   ” “   you’re letting yourself get too attached .   ” “   you know   . . .   you’ve changed .   ” “   just give me another chance .   ”

“   you were a mistake i never should have made .   ” “   is there anything you couldn’t bear to lose ??   ” “   it’s scary to think of what it would be like without you .   ” “   you can’t fight fire with sparks .   ” “   find a new crowd .   trust me ,   those guys are bad news .   ” “   sorry   . . .   my mind’s on other things .   ” “   do you ever think about why we’re doing all of this ??   ” “   just be straight with me for once ,   will you ??   ” “   did you bring me these seashells ??   ” “   keep your mouth shut .   ” “   does the past mean nothing to you ??   ” “   don’t scare me like that anymore .   ” “   maybe you’re not completely well yet .   ” “   it almost sounds as though you know .   ” “   who am i ??   what am i here for ??   ” “   you made me a promise .   ” “   i’m sorry   . . .   i’m not sure i’ve kept my promise very well .   ” “   am i not supposed to exist ??   ” “   what would it take for me to be like you ??   ” “   to be honest ,   i’m not even sure today really happened .   ” “   since when do you ever worry about me ??   ” “   it’s just not the same without all three of us .   ” “   i’m nothing more than a puppet .   ” “   do you hate me for taking your friend away from you ??   ” “   how will i know where i belong ,   truly ??   ” “   the answer you come up with can’t just be right for   you .   ” “   well ,   we’ve had our share of drama lately .   ” “   i know we’ve seen a lot of sunsets ,   but today’s puts them all to shame .   ” “   if we ran ,   i bet we could always be together .   ” “   i think you know what needs to be done .   ” “   stop pretending .   ” “   why is it that you always have to glare at me like that ??   ” “   i’m asking you   why   you did that ,   &   you know it .   ” “   you’re not making any sense .   ” “   if only the whispers at the top carried to the bottom .   ” “   can you at least try not to harm her ??   ” “   could it be that you’ve known this whole time   &   not told me anything ??   ” “   i’ve been searching for a way to conquer the darkness within me .   ” “   you don’t have to worry about me .   ” “   best friends are supposed to be   honest   with each other !!   ” “   finding out the truth doesn’t always work out for the best .   ” “   if i can’t get answers here ,   i’ll get them somewhere else .   ” “   no one would miss me .   ” “   everybody thinks they’re right   . . .   ” “   you think you can do whatever you want   . . .   well ,   i’m   sick   of it .   ” “   i’ll always be there to bring you back .   ” “   why you gotta cause me so much trouble   . . . ??   ” “   am i the one who did this to you ??   ” “   why are you trying to stop me ??   ” “   i can’t let you go do anything crazy .   ”

[nfr-girly]

Hasan x Reader // Pet-sitting Kaya

a/n: reader is shorter than Hasan, uses she/her pronouns

Hasan parks into the driveway next to her car. It’s 11pm, he’s not even sure she’s awake.

*

*12 hours earlier*

“So you’re sure you’ll be okay with her?” Hasan asks

“I’ll be fine you just go out and have fun” you say

Hasans going out to film a Fear& video, however his friend bailed out of looking after kaya last minute, so he had to look for a replacement ASAP.

Luckily, your Saturday was wide open, and kaya loved you anyway. So when Hasan asked around, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

On the other hand, as soon as you agreed Hasan Instantly regretted asking you. Hasan adored you, in the way that he shouldn’t. Him and you had always been close, QT introduced you when you dropped her off at Hasans one time. From that point you and him got on really well. Unfortunately from that, Hasan gained an interest in you.

He never thought for one second you had any mutual interest in him, so he never said anything. He had too nice of a friendship with you to lose it over some stupid feelings.

“Remember, Kaya likes to go on walks by the park, and her food is in the-“ Hasan started to ramble, worrying about Kaya. He had never left her with anyone for the whole day.

“Okay Hasan I’ve got it okay? You can trust me” you look up at him with trusting eyes

Hasan took a deep breath and nodded. He trusted you, always. He just worried about Kaya.

“Okay. I should get going now. Again thank you so much for this. I know it was last minute”

“It gives me something to do. Me and this one can have a girls day” you smile at Kaya as she approaches you and Hasan

Hasan smiles, feeling relief now. He gets all his stuff and starts to head out.

“I’ll be back probably around 10. Is that okay?” He asks

You nod

“Okay. I’ll see you later”

“See you later” you smile

As Hasan steps out into the porch and head towards his car, a voice in his head keeps on saying; “tell her” “why didn’t you say anything” “should’ve kissed her”

Hasan mentally punches himself for what he didn’t say.

*present time*

Hasan unlocks the door and slowly enters, in case either you or Kaya is asleep. He takes his shoes off and hangs up his jacket.

He walks into the living room, to find the sweetest view he might’ve ever seen.

You and Kaya. You’re sleeping on the couch, snuggled up with a blanket, glasses hanging off your face, book halfway slipping out your hand. Kaya snuggled in your arms.

Hasan feels time stop as he admires the scene. His two favourite girls cozied up together, both fast asleep.

He contemplated waking you up, but before he could decide you were already starting to stir.

As you woke up, Hasan starting putting away his stuff, so he could hide the fact he had been staring. How could he not? You looked so beautiful.

“Hasan?” Your sweet voice was heard and Hasan smiled to himself before he turned

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No it’s okay, I must’ve feel asleep while reading, Kaya probably felt tired too” you laugh as you look down to Kaya

“I’m sorry I’m back so late, we got held up a bit.”

“It’s okay. I should probably head home now anyway.” You get up and start grabbing your stuff.

“Hey wait, it’s super dark out, I mean you don’t wanna head home this late. Why don’t you stay over?” Hasan nervously asked, hoping you’d stay.

You stopped for a minute. “Y-yeah I mean as long as you’re okay with it”

“Yeah yeah of course. Here let me take your stuff and I’ll show you to the bedroom” Hasan starts to head upstairs before you speak up

“Wait I don’t have a change of clothes”

Hasan stops and turns to you. “You can borrow some of mine. They might be big but at least they’re comfortable” he laughs

You pause, feeling a sense of warmth, you agree

“Okay, thanks” you smile

*he shows you to his bedroom and hands you a pair of clothes, leaving you alone to change*

you take a look around the room, the walls plain except for a few decorations he’s collected, a few pictures of him and Kaya scattered about, two dumbbells by his bed.

you get changed and look in the mirror, Hasans shirt looking massive on you while his sweatpants just fitting you. he gave you his smallest ones

You put your stuff by his bed and head downstairs to the living room. You see Kaya now awake and sitting with Hasan on the couch watching TV.

You approach Hasan and say, “hey I’m done changing now, so am I sleeping on your bed or down here, cause I don’t mind which one”

But Hasan doesn’t reply, instead he stares at you, to him, right now you’re the most beautiful thing ever, seeing you in his clothes feels normal, like it should be a regular thing.

“Hasan?” You say, confused

Hasan snaps out of his state. “Oh sorry, um I’ll sleep down here with Kaya, you can sleep in my room.”

“Are you sure? I feel bad”

“Of course, don’t worry about it” he says, reassuring you

“Okay thanks”

An hour later you start heading to his bedroom, Hasan coming with you to grab his clothes to change into. ‘Ask her out, what are you doing? Ask her out.’

“Thanks for letting me stay over, I don’t really like driving in the dark, so thank you” you laugh

“Don’t worry about it, hey um, I was just wondering, are you free next Saturday?” He asks you

you stop, “yeah I should be, why?”

Hasan pushes down his nerves and asks. “Well I was wondering if maybe you wanted to hang out, maybe we could go see a movie together? I also know a really good sushi place nearby, if you wanted to go there after?”

Your heart skips a beat, ‘is he asking me out on a date?’ you ask yourself as you take in his words

Hasan notices your pause and begins to worry, should he have asked you that? Oh god, what if he messed everything up, will you still want to be friends with him-

“Okay” he hears you say

“What?” He replies

“I’d like that, next Saturday then?” You say

Hasan manages to hide his smile as he replies

“Yeah, does 1pm work for you?”

“I’ll check but i should be free! But no yeah id really enjoy that” you smile

“Great, well we can talk about what movie we’ll see in the morning, it’s late so I’ll let you get some sleep” Hasan smiles at you before heading out the door

“Good night Hasan” you say

“Good night” he smiles, as he closes the door and heads downstairs

You smile and feel warm as you tuck yourself into his bed. Feeling content as you head to sleep, already looking forward to Saturday.

Meanwhile, Hasan is downstairs settling on the couch, kaya on her doggy bed next to him, both getting ready to head to sleep

Hasan lightly smiles as he thinks of what to do to make Saturday enjoyable and can’t wait to spent time with you.

————————————————————————

a/n: please let me know if you guys have any requests!! Also let me know if you’d like me to write about their date x

[dumblilb]

I’m Losing It Lately ˚⋆୨୧⋆ ˚

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

(Synopsis: Ellie thinks you’re the prettiest girl she’s ever seen. And that terrifies her. So when you hint at liking her back she can’t help but think the worst. Inspired by the song Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo. )

(Warnings: Loser!Ellie, a coming out scene, mentions of anxiety, making out, angst, fluff, lesbians 🤯 )

(Words: 2037)

Ellie has know you for years. You have been one of her best friends since she moved to Jackson. So it was exciting when you were paired as roommates once you both headed off to college. That was till recently.

Ellie had been feeling uneasy around you. Entering a room and immediately leaving if she saw you in it. She just couldn’t help the butterflies that swarmed her stomach when she looked at you. And it was making her sick. Watching you get ready in the morning. Applying lip liner making her wonder what your lips felt like. Or helping you with the little bows you would tie on your hair and your bags. Or the way you rested a hand on her thigh when you would have movie nights. Sometimes how you looked at her when you couldn’t sleep and needed someone to talk to, would send her into overdrive. Your eyes would be all sleepy and and your lips all puffy after biting them subconsciously. You would wrap yourself in fluffy throw blankets and hold that stupid teddy bear she got you when you were 16. And she just thinks to herself-

“How could someone look so beautiful?”

She wanted to crawl into a hole every time she noticed you staring at her plain outfits or the boxers she wore to bed. She wished she could dress well like you. Maybe you would like her then. It made her so insecure knowing you had seen her grow up. Seen all her awkward phases and nerdy interests. You had always seemed so put together and cool to her.

One night you were eating take out and watching her play a video game on the tv when you started messing with her hair.

“Ellie…”

“What’s up? Do I need a hairbrush or something?” She says turning her attention to you. Chuckling awkwardly as she starts to flatten down her hair.

“Oh! No you’re fine. You look great. Um… can I ask you something?” You question bringing your knees to your chest. Making her put the controller down nervously to fully face you.

“Anything…”

“You like girls right?” You ask so scared it almost sounds like a whisper. Ellie’s body flinches, straightening up. She never expected to have this conversation with you. It always just seemed like unspoken knowledge.

“Yeah I do..”

“How did you know?” You ask, eyes glossy.

“Well, I personally was just never attracted to men in that way. It’s different for everyone, but for me when ever a man would try to get romantic with me I would run. It just never felt right…” Ellie says eyeing you down. You were trembling. You looked terrified.

“Ellie…”

“Yeah…”

“I think I like girls.” You sob and she brings you into her arms. Holding you, rubbing your back softly.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” She whispers.

The entire night she talked to you about old flings and answered any questions you had. But her stomach had dropped from the moments your confession left your lips. Cause it made what she was feeling all to real. It it was scary. Knowing that you like girls means that if you do reject her is cause you don’t like her personally. And not just because she was a girl. Cause how could someone so pretty and kind, like someone like her? So she started avoiding you.

You started to beg Dina to tell you if Ellie had said anything.

“Is she mad at me? I mean Dina please, I need to know. She’s acting like the sight of me disgusts her. I’m worried I did something wrong.” You plead sitting down on her couch.

“She’s not mad at you I promise.” Dina sighs grabbing a bottle of water and sitting down next to you.

“Then why is she avoiding me?” You say and she puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You really need to ask her yourself. How about this, I’m gonna have us all over here tomorrow night for a little party, get together, whatever you wanna call it. And since I’m forcing her to be here you can talk to her.” Dina says and you smile at the plan. The not knowing was killing you and this was the perfect way to get answers.

Later that night while making dinner you look over at Ellie who is finally taking off her headphones.

“Hey are you going to Dina’s tomorrow?” You ask and she lets out a groan.

“Yeah, she said if I don’t she’ll break in and steal all my weed. So…” Ellie explains and walks to her bed.

“Not hungry?” You ask concerned.

“No I’ll eat tomorrow. Night.” She says and turns off the little light above her bed before leaning over and shutting the door between the main room and the bedroom.

You finish up and sit down on the couch. Not wanting to go in there and bother her anymore. Your mind was wandering. You had been friends for 6 years. Little fights had happened before. But this wasn’t a fight. It felt like she was evicting you from her life.

She didn’t want to talk to you. Or look at you. The sound of your voice would make her shiver and if you accidentally brushed her leg on the couch she would scoot so far over she was almost on the arm rest. It was embarrassing. You felt almost disgusting. Like some parasite invading her space. She wouldn’t play her guitar for you anymore. And you wouldn’t find the little drawings she had done of you scattered on her walls.

It hurt. Cause you had finally bucked up the courage to ask her out when this all started happening. Maybe she knew you liked her and that was why she was avoiding you? Cause she didn’t like you back. The thoughts made you feel uneasy as you laid down and quietly cried.

The next morning Ellie would find you laying on the couch passed out with tear stains covering your cheeks. She felt horrible knowing she was the reason. She was your best friend and staying away from you was probably really hard on you. But she needed to get over her crush before you could go back to normal. So she rushed out of the dorm that morning and headed straight to class.

You felt groggy and out of it when you woke up but it was okay cause you didn’t have any classes today. You spent the day trying to hype yourself up for tonight.

“I have to look perfect.” You thought as you put on your everyday jewelry and slipped on your shoes. You tried to go for a model off duty kind of look, remembering when you wore a similar outfit and she said you looked nice. You did the finishing touches on your makeup and put on a perfume you knew she liked.

You took a deep breath before making your way to Dina’s. You knocked and the door swung open.

“Oh good! You’re here!” Dina smiles and you can tell how the party has been going. She was already tipsy. Jesse was in the corner dancing to disturbia by Rihanna. And some other friends were doing shots at the counter.

Then you saw her. Sitting on the windowsill. Joint resting between her fingers as she looks outside. You walk over and sit next to her causing her to squirm a little.

“Hey.” You breathe out and she sighs.

“Hey.”

“So… I was wondering if we could talk?” You ask fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. They seemed a little much now looking at how casual everyone else had dressed. I mean Ellie was wearing some jeans, a hoodie, and her converse. And she still looked like the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

She blew out a puff of smoke turning to look at you. Visibly uncomfortable with the conversation already.

“I- yeah I guess.”

“Ellie. I really like you. I do but……“ you start to say when she cuts you off and stands up.

“Please don’t. It’s just mean. I don’t want your attempt at making me feel better.” She says getting worked up.

“What?” You say shocked as she looks down at you. People start to stare.

“I have been in love with you for years. And I never complained when you would talk about other people, because I knew I’d never have a chance. But now I know I could have and it’s the worst feeling in the world. And I can’t sit here and listen to you try and let me down easy. You’re my best friend but I can’t do this anymore.” She says pointing between you guys, hot tears streaming down her face. The party had gone quiet. Everyone staring at the sight in-front of them.

“Ellie please, that’s not…” You say reaching a hand out to hold hers and and she pulls it away.

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” She says and walks out the door. You quickly get up and chase after her.

She practically slammed the door in your face as she went inside. You go in and shut it behind you.

“I’m serious I need to be alone right now. God this is so embarrassing!” She yells at herself.

“Ellie I don’t care what you think. I need you to listen to me right now!” You say and shove her down on the couch making her go wide eyed.

“I was trying to tell you how much I like you. And how Ive wanted to be with you for a long time now. And every time I try to tell you, you push me away. And I do care about you. I care about you so much and it’s killing me to know that you’ve felt this way all this time. You are the most perfect and beautiful girl I have ever seen and I would do anything for you to understand that. We have been friends for so long, I didn’t want to ruin that at first but it was torcher. Because just the sight of you gives me butterflies and I can’t take it anymore.” You sob.

The hours of work you had put into your appearance seemingly was for nothing. Because as you kneeled down in front of her and grasped her hands she just stared at you. Your makeup was smudged from the tears and your hair was disheveled. But even in the moment of chaos and confessions all she could think about was how beautiful you were.

“I didn’t want to lose you.“ Ellie whispers placing her forehead to yours.

“You shouldn’t have pushed me away.” You choke out and she wipes a tear from your face making you took up at her.

“I’ll never push you away again.” She smiles softly. Tilting your chin up she brings your lips close. You can feel her breath on your face. Closing the gap slowly you press your lips to hers. It was gentle and sweet. Ellie had always wanted to know what your lips felt like, and it was better than she could have imagined. You tangled your fingers in her hair pulling her closer.

You could feel her smile into the kiss. Her hands gripped your waist as she pulled you both up. Stumbling backwards into the bedroom. You fell back onto her bed as she started to lift your shirt. You lift your back for easier access, when you feel her stop.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, nervous you already screwed this up.

“No, nothings wrong. It’s just… I’ve wanted this to happen for so long, trust me. But you’re not just some girl I met at a party. You’re you… and I want to do this right.” She says laying next to you now, propping herself up on her arm. Running her fingers through your hair.

“Let me take you out.” She says and you give her a playful smile.

“Like a date?” You grin. She places a small kiss you your lips. Parting with a soft whisper.

“Yes, like a date.” She smiles.

“Well I can’t wait for this date then.” You whisper back pulling her in closer.

[waywardnerd67]

Fireworks

Title: Fireworks Summary: When (Y/N)’s BFF invites her to a 4th of July party she would never imagine meeting the man of her dreams… literally. Main Characters: Glen Powell, Reader Pairing: Glen Powell x Reader Rating: E - Everyone Warnings: Fluffy/RPF Word Count: 5376 A/N: Jumping back into the saddle so please forgive all the rough edges.

“Honey, I’m home!”

(Y/N) looked up to see her best friend walking through her front door, “Addison! Why didn’t you tell me you were in town?”

She hugged her hard, missing her BFF more than she realized. A year ago, Addison got the opportunity of a lifetime to be the personal assistant to a Hollywood actor. She had been traveling the world, hanging out on movie sets and living her best life. Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still living in their hometown of Austin, Texas working at the same high school, in the same position for nearly a decade.

“I’m sorry, my boss has had me planning this big Fourth of July party and today is the first day I’ve had time to come see you.”

They both sat down on her couch as (Y/N) paused her millionth rewatch of Supernatural, “How are you planning a party here if he lives in L.A.?”

Addison smiled, “He recently moved back to Austin, so it looks like I will be coming back here as well.”

(Y/N) let out a squeal hugging her friend tightly, “Oh my god, that’s amazing! I mean I know you’re gonna be busy but damn will it be good to have you back here.”

For the next few hours they caught up on each other’s lives or lack of one for (Y/N). They ordered dinner and were getting ready to watch one of their favorite rom-coms when Addison’s phone rang.

“Hey boss, what’s up?”

(Y/N) watched her friend’s face light up and suddenly her body was filled with envy. She was incredibly proud of the life her friend created but it was a reminder of how boring of a life she had. She couldn’t even remember the last thing she had been excited for except for maybe the new Twisters movie coming out later in the month.

“You got it. I will confirm everything and send you an email update.” Addison paused listening, “Yes, I will make sure to bring someone with me. See you tomorrow.”

“From the look on your face I would say you love your job.” Addison nodded with a smile, “I really do. He’s great and nothing like the other Hollywood douchebags. He’s just a good ole Texas boy. Kind of reminds me of Jensen and Jared.”

(Y/N) remembered her best friend's time volunteering at Creation Entertainment Supernatural conventions. She eventually was one of the workers who helped walk the actors to and from ops. Several times she had walked with Jared Padalecki or (Y/N)’s favorite actor, Jensen Ackles. That was how she had met them and found out they were truly just as nice and humble as everyone said they were.

“He wants me to bring someone to his party. What do you say?”

“Me?” She stared at Addison, “Don’t you think you should bring someone more interesting or fun?”

Her friend slipped her arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders, “No. There’s no one else I would rather bring than my best friend. Plus, who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone there and hit it off.”

“Yeah. Right.” She scoffed, “The plain Jane school secretary hitting it off with some Hollywood hunk. This is reality and not fanfiction.”

“Please? For me? It would mean the world to me if you came and then I can finally introduce you to my boss.” Addison stuck out her bottom lip in a pout.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes then smiled, “Fine. Only because I love you.”

“Yay! If you want we can go get you a swimsuit and a new outfit. On me, of course, as a thank you.”

“I’m immediately regretting this decision…” She groaned.

The next day, they spent the day going to lunch and shopping. After one crying session in a dressing room and a slight argument in front of a cashier, (Y/N) arrived back home with three bags worth of stuff. Addison had convinced her to buy a two piece swimsuit. She was always hyper aware of her body even after losing a lot of weight. She was still plus size with killer curves and she was proud of her body. Knowing she was going to be around beautiful actors and models made her notice every little imperfection she had. Staring at the dark green checkered pattern suit made her stomach churn.

“It will be fine, (Y/N). No one is going to notice you anyway.” She murmured to herself.

The morning of July 4th, Addison was at her apartment bright and early, “I’m sorry it’s so early on your day off. My boss wants me at his house early and I figured you wanted to ride over with me.”

(Y/N) yawned, “It’s fine. I have my Monster and should be some form of human like by the time we get there.”

Addison led her out to a brand new Jeep Wrangler that was the same orange as the Longhorns. They threw their stuff in the back and headed off onto highway 290 towards Dripping Springs.

“Please tell me this is his car and not yours.” (Y/N) said as Addison started laughing.

“Yes, it’s his. I still have old faithful who recently hit 200,000 miles and is still purring like a kitten.” Addison turned on her Spotify playlist, “He’s a big Longhorns fan so anything he can get in burnt orange he does.”

One thing (Y/N) loved about living in Austin was the scenery. It had been awhile since she had driven out to Hill Country. The last remaining bluebonnets were holding on strong from a late blooming season mixing with other wildflowers. She couldn’t help to notice they were headed the same direction as Family Business Brewery.

“If we’re going to Family Business and Jensen is going to be there then I need some notice to calm my inner fangirl.”

Addison shook her head, “No, he just lives near there. I know he invited Jensen and Jared’s families but I think they have a convention this weekend.”

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief then continued to admire the scenery around her while they sang to their favorite songs. Soon they were pulling up to a newly built, gated home. The main house was a subtly modern farmhouse with a big wrap around porch. Addison parked in front of the three car garage behind the house and that’s when (Y/N) saw a beautiful red barn straight out of a western movie.

“Wow…” She said, grabbing her things and following her friend to the pool house.

“Make yourself at home, this is where I stay. It’s easier for me to be close by than to have my own place and worry about subletting it.”

(Y/N) found pictures of her best friend in various cities, countries with celebrities she admired. There were also plenty of pictures of them together throughout their friendship including childhood and being roommates at UT-Austin. She looked at one picture of Addison pulled into a big hug from Glen Powell.

“You’ve met Glen Powell and didn’t tell me!” (Y/N) smacked her BFF’s shoulder, “How dare you.”

Addison laughed, “He’s a sweetheart.”

“Talk about good ole Texas boy… by god not that I need another bow legged Texan to love, but whew!” (Y/N) fanned herself.

“Come on, help me organize the food and everything before my boss gets home.”

There were tables set up in the massive backyard with a food buffet large enough to feed an army. (Y/N) found herself enjoying helping Addison get everything ready. She was helping the DJ get set up in the barn when Addison called out to her.

“Hey, my boss is here. I’m going to the main house to help him with something then I’ll be back.”

“Got it boss lady!” (Y/N) laughed as her friend rolled her eyes.

She was putting the last touches of the Firecracker themed tables together when a low, raspy voice came from behind her.

“Nicely done. You must be Addison’s best friend.”

She turned around and froze, “Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

He laughed holding out his hand to her, “Yes, but not the OG Glen. He’s in the house right now. You’re (Y/N), right? Addison talks about you all the time.”

She slipped her hand into his then flinched from the electric current running up her arm. From his wide green eyes, she assumed he felt it too.

“Uh, y-yeah that’s me. Um…” She swallowed hard, “Sorry, my inner fangirl is having a mild heart attack right now.”

His deep, rich laugh blanketed her body in warmth, “Well hopefully your inner fangirl won’t pass out. Calling 911 is not on my list today.”

“I promise, she’ll be fine. Still getting used to my BFF hanging out with celebrities, especially ones that I love.”

The bright smile on his face nearly melted her heart, “Awe, so you love me?”

“Uh… yes, I mean… yes I love your movies and you seem like a really great person.” (Y/N) mentally kicked herself.

Shut up. Stop talking you weirdo.

“Thanks, I try to be a good guy. Main reason why I moved back to Austin. Stay grounded in my home roots. Anyway, I’m looking forward to getting to know you. I better get back to the main house and see what kind of chaos my family is causing for Addison.”

“Oh, okay. Talk to you later.” (Y/N) watched as he walked out of the barn then finally let out a shaky breath.

She immediately went in search of her best friend, finding her near the buffet. She smacked her shoulder several times as Addison tried to defend herself with tongs.

“What the hell (Y/N)!”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Glen Powell was your boss?! A little warning would have been nice so I could prepare myself.”

Addison chuckled, “Damn, I missed you meeting him. I was hoping to see your face.”

She smacked her shoulder again, “Not funny. It was like the first time I met Jensen and my brain short circuited.”

Now Addison was nearly falling down laughing, “Did you word vomit all over him?”

“No! Though I did mention my inner fangirl having a heart attack. Also, the first thing out of my mouth was ‘Holy shit, you’re Glen Powell.”

“Oh my god!” Her friend was rolling in laughter, “God, I wish I had been there for that.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving. I’ve already embarrassed myself and who knows who else will be here for me to embarrass myself in front of.”

(Y/N) started to head towards the front of the house when Addison reached out grabbing her arm.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Glen only invited a few actors that live around here over. Honestly, I think Zac Levi is the only one confirmed to be coming. Other than that, it’s mostly Glen’s family and friends.”

“Zac Levi?” She stared at her, “Zachary fucking Levi… oh god, I’m out. Me and my inner fangirl cannot handle this.”

Addison ran in front of her, grabbing a hold of her shoulders, “(Y/N), they are just humans like you and me.”

“Humans that are sculpted out of marble by the good lord himself with a good heaping pile of sex god appeal. Not like me. They’re main character energy and I’m one of the background people no one sees.”

“(Y/N) stop. Trust me, stay and hang out with me. Glen said once everything was set up that I was off the rest of the night. That means, it’s you and me hanging out by the pool, eating our weight in BBQ and watching fireworks. With some particularly good eye candy around.”

Addison was looking at her with pleading eyes, “Please stay and find out for yourself that they are normal dudes. Just like when we hung out with Jared and Jensen.”

(Y/N) sighed, “Only because I love you more than life itself and I have no way of getting home.”

Addison pulled her into a hug, “Thank you.”

“Group hug? I want to join!” Before (Y/N) could look up, she was sandwiched between her best friend and a firm body behind her. Instantly she was enveloped in a woodsy smell with a hint of citrus. Glen squeezed them together making both girls laugh.

“Can’t… breathe… Powell.” Addison managed to squeak out as he let go of them.

“Sorry, just wanted to be a part of your little moment.” He joked.

(Y/N) turned around sucking in a breath and trying to keep her jaw from slacking. Standing before her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Which said a lot since up until that point it had been Jensen Ackles who was the most beautiful man in her mind. Glen was wearing a pair of swim trunks with firecrackers all over them that hung low on his hips. His golden skin was glowing beneath the Texas sun and on top of his golden hair was an American flag cowboy hat.

“Ladies, I believe everything is set up and our first wave of guests have arrived. That means, Addison, you are officially off the clock and my last request is for you both to have a great time tonight.”

They looked at one another then saluted Glen saying together, “Yes sir.”

His laughter filled the air, “Your salutes need some work but we can work on that later. Now, go! Get drunk, eat and have fun.”

Addison hooked her arm with (Y/N)’s and they headed back towards the pool. For the first couple of hours, (Y/N) laid out on one of the chairs by the pool. One of the only things she loved about parties was people watching. There was no shortage of people to watch here. Glen’s family was an absolute joy to meet. Currently, his dad was in the pool playing with his grandkids while his mom was sitting on the edge hanging her feet into the water.

(Y/N) watched as Zac Levi walked through the main house with a cooler and a few of his friends. She was surprised to see him pull Addison into a hug then kiss her cheek. She made a mental note to ask her what was up with that later. Sipping on her beer, she watched as a group of guys including Glen and Zac started a game of football. Addison was talking with Glen’s sisters when suddenly there was a shout.

“Watch out!”

Before (Y/N) could look up, she was hit with something hard in her chest. She let out a loud grunt and her beer dumped down the front of her.

“Shit! (Y/N) are you alright?” Glen asked as he and Addison ran up to her.

She groaned, “Fine, just covered in beer.”

“I can show you where you clean up.” Glen said, taking the football that had hit her and tossing it to his brother-in-law.

He held out his hand to her and helped her up from her seat. She looked back at Addison who was smiling like the Cheshire cat. She narrowed her eyes at her friend suddenly smelling a set up and beer… lots of beer.

Glen led her into the main house and up the stairs. They walked into the largest bedroom she had ever seen and immediately knew this had to be his room.

“You can use my bathroom to wash up and I’ll get you some clothes to wear.”

She chuckled, “Um, I’m pretty sure your clothes won’t fit me.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, “I’m sure I can find something or if you prefer to walk around in a towel only then that’s cool too.”

“No! Oh god, no.” She sighed, “Thank you. I appreciate anything you can find for me.”

“You’re welcome.” He walked into his large closet while she went into his master bathroom and shut the door.

Leaning against it, she took a moment to calm her frantic nerves. A week ago, she was home rewatching Top Gun: Maverick and now she was standing in Glen Powell’s bathroom. Quickly, she stripped out of her soiled clothes and swimsuit. She turned on the water of the massive shower and let the hot water beat down on her tense muscles. She heard the door opening and immediately tried to cover herself.

“There’s clothes on my bed for you.”

(Y/N) noticed he had his hand covering his eyes even though he couldn’t see her from where the door was. Her heart skipped from the small gesture.

“T-Thank you. I’ll be back out in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” He closed the door.

(Y/N) noticed his shampoo was the citrus she had smelled earlier while his body wash was the woods smell. She decided that combination was her new favorite smell. Once she was out of the shower and wrapped in one of his towels she walked out to find his door closed. On the bed was an extra large Longhorns t-shirt and gym shorts. There was also a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer-briefs which she was thankful for. However, not having a bra to wear was going to be difficult.

She stepped into his closet and chuckled from all the burnt orange shirts. She found one of his tank tops and slipped it on. She rolled the bottom up beneath her breasts and tied it off with her ponytail. The girls would at least be secured but one good cool wind and her nipples would be on display.

“Maybe it’s time to step up to whiskey.” She muttered as she slipped on the rest of Glen’s clothes.

Opening the door, she found a muscular, tan back standing there like a bodyguard, “Sorry, I just didn’t want anyone walking in here on you. My family is not big on boundaries nor are my niece and nephew.”

She chuckled, “Thanks for keeping watch and for the clothes.”

He turned around and she watched as his eyes traveled the length of her body. Goosebumps spread across her flushed skin. When his eyes came back up to hers they were darker and filled with something that she refused to let herself believe was there.

“Have to say, those look way better on you than on me.”

(Y/N)’s default mode clicked on whenever she received compliments, “I highly doubt that, but thanks. They’re at least more comfortable than my swimsuit. By the way, do you have somewhere I could wash my clothes out?”

“Yeah, give them to me and I’ll put them in the washer. You can head back out to enjoy the party.” She handed him her suit and clothes, “Man, I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you in this. I bet it looked great on you.”

He headed down the stairs leaving (Y/N) speechless. Was Glen Powell flirting with her? No way. She was delusional from the alcohol and sun. She headed back outside where she found Addison swimming in the pool with Zac. Seeing them together, she knew she didn’t need to ask if they were together. It was obvious by the way they looked at one another that they were. Once again, (Y/N)’s green eyed monster raged inside of her. Deciding she needed some more time alone, she headed out towards the barn then kept walking to the field behind it.

She was watching a team of guys setting up fireworks for the big display later that night. She could still hear everyone laughing and having fun behind her, suddenly she felt tears falling down her cheeks. She loved her best friend, but it was obvious she didn’t fit into her life anymore. She was hanging out and dating celebrities and traveling the world.

What was she doing? Still working the same job and never allowing anyone to get close to her. She gave up on dating after her one and only boyfriend had cheated on her. Did she want someone in her life? The family and white picket fence? Of course, but the closer to forty she was getting the further away that dream seemed to be getting. Seeing how happy Addison was and how wonderful her life was a harsh reminder of how meaningless her own life was.

“You okay?”

Turning around, she found Glen walking up now wearing a navy tank top and his dark Ray Bans covering his eyes. She quickly wiped away the wayward tears.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

He leaned his forearms against the fence, looking out over the field, “I see you found my ‘I need a moment’ spot. I love coming out here and just being. I don’t have to be actor Glen, but just me.”

“I bet that is exhausting.” He nodded as she looked at him from the corner of her eyes, “On behalf of fans everywhere, I appreciate all the hard work you put into your characters. I can’t tell you the number of nights I have watched one of your rom-coms laughing and making my day better.”

He looked down at her with a smile, “Thanks, that means a hell of a lot to me.”

“However, I have to say, I wish they would pair you up with a woman your age. Seeing you make out with a woman ten years younger gives girls like me a complex.” She chuckled.

“How so?” He asked, turning towards her.

She sighed, “You never see a leading woman that is both older and doesn’t have a model’s body. The average size of a woman is 14/16 which is plus size and if I had to guess I bet the majority of rom-com audience is like me. A woman in her late thirties, plus size, single and looking for hope that men like Glen Powell would be interested in her.”

“You don’t think guys like me would be with a woman like you?”

His question was genuine, but made her scoff, “In the movies they aren’t. Why would I believe that in real life? Probably why I’ve been single for over a decade now. It’s easier to fantasize over fictional men or celebrities than putting myself out there to get humiliated.”

He stepped closer to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. He pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head and his glossy eyes were staring down into hers. She had dreamt of him looking at her in this very way a million times. The way he looked at every leading lady in one of his rom-coms.

“What if I told you that I do find you attractive? That I find you incredibly sexy.”

“I’d say that you’re a great actor.” She tried to look away, but he gently grabbed her chin making her look at him.

“I’m not acting. The moment Addison showed me a picture of the two of you, I thought you were the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. The way she gushes about you and all the work you do for your students. The difference you’re making in their lives. I couldn’t imagine anything more sexy than a woman who loves to help those who need it.”

(Y/N) stepped away from him, “It’s really nothing special. Yes, I’m there for them and help them in any way I can, but so do a lot of staff. Honestly, there’s nothing special about me. I’m definitely not gorgeous. I mean, you’re around beautiful actresses and models all the time. They’re gorgeous, me not so much.”

“Addison warned me that you usually put yourself down when you receive compliments.” He took a step towards her engaging in an awkward dance as she stepped backwards.

“Warned you? So, this was a set up?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “Did she really think you were going to magically fall in love with me and sweep me off my feet. Which by the way, you couldn’t, not literally anyway.”

“I asked her to introduce us. Yes, I found you attractive and after hearing Addison talk about you non-stop in Oklahoma, I wanted to meet you. Addison is not only my assistant but a dear friend and if you’re important to her then you’re important to me as well.”

He closed the distance between them pressing her back against the fence and caging her in with his strong arms on either side of her. He leaned in towards her and she sucked in a breath, holding it in her chest.

“I wasn’t hoping to fall in love or sweep you off your feet. Which I could totally do.” He smirked, “I was hoping to meet the amazing woman Addison loves so much and who happens to be fucking gorgeous.”

“Glen, I…” She let out a trembling breath, “I'm nobody and I don’t do one night stands. Even if it’s with a sexy movie star that I’m sure would give me the orgasm of my life. It’s not me and I don’t see you wanting to settle down with a high school secretary.”

He leaned closer to her. His nose brushing alongside hers and his lips merely an inch from hers. She wanted to look away, but his eyes were mesmerizing.

“Won’t know unless you give me a chance.”

His lips pressed against hers. They were soft and tasted of tequila as he pulled her bottom lips between his teeth. Suddenly, her body felt like it was on fire and she wanted more. Needed more. His large hands fell to her hips and pulled her tighter against him. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing her hands into his soft hair. His sunglasses falling from his head was enough to knock her senses back into place. She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him gently away.

“We… I… this can’t happen. It’s not happening.” She stammered.

(Y/N) took off back towards the barn as Glen called after her, “(Y/N)! (Y/N), please wait!”

She didn’t stop until she was in the pool house and in Addison’s room with the door shut. Tears immediately sprung to her eyes and she sank to the floor beside her bed. What the hell was she doing? Glen Powell had kissed her. Told her she was gorgeous and yet she was sitting on the floor crying. Why couldn’t she be more impulsive and have one night with a man who was way out of her league? Looking at her reflection in the glass from the sliding door, she sighed.

“Because you catch feelings, (Y/N).” She whispered.

“(Y/N)?” Addison’s voice came through the door, “You alright?”

She opened the door, “Seriously, Glen Powell?”

“Let me explain.”

“Addison, what did you think was going to happen? You couldn’t actually believe this was going to work in any sort of way.”

They sat down on her bed, “I talk about you non-stop with him. I’ve told him all your stories from school with your kiddos. I’ve told him how I’m worried about you being alone all the time and how I wish you could meet a nice guy like him. How proud I am of all you’ve done for your health and how you love your body for what it is.”

(Y/N) placed her head in her hands, “And what, he was like ‘oh I want to meet this chick’?”

“Not his exact words, but yes. When he started planning this party, he asked if there was anyone I would like to invite. I told him Zac and his friends…” She paused looking at her bashfully, “Yeah, I’m kind of seeing Zac Levi.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I could tell that from the lovey-dovey looks you give one another. After my breakdown you can spill all about how that happened.”

Addison nodded, “Anyway, Glen asked if I wanted to invite you. I told him that you’re pretty introverted and didn’t like going to parties. He dropped it, but then when he was having me finalize the list of people I noticed he had added your name at the end of the list. When I asked him about it, all he said was he wanted to meet the amazing best friend I kept talking about.”

“So, you decided to turn it into a set up? Knowing full and well I would never fall for it.”

Her friend turned towards her, “It was never a set up. I warned him how you are. I asked him directly what he was up to. He told me that he found you attractive and wanted to get to know you.” She grabbed her hands, “Honestly (Y/N), I think he’s just a dude who is nervous to ask out a beautiful girl. It’s hard for him to meet anyone who doesn’t see him as only a famous actor and I really think he wants this part of his life to be as normal as possible.”

(Y/N) groaned, “You know this sounds like a fanfic I would read on Tumblr, right?”

Addison laughed, “Oh I’m well aware. However, doesn’t it make you want to see what happens? Usually, the next part would be you going to find him and you two would have a moment of tension that snaps. Then wham, bam, smutty dreams fulfilled.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.” (Y/N) took a couple deep breaths.

“That is not usually in the fanfics. Take the time you need, but please come back out and hang out with us. If anything, I’ll introduce you to Zac and you can fangirl over him.”

“I love you, but get out. I can’t even with you right now.” (Y/N) laughed as Addison hugged her.

Once she was alone again, (Y/N) went into the bathroom to splash cool water on her face. Looking into the mirror, she gave herself a once over. She walked out into the bedroom letting out a surprise yelp when she found Glen sitting on the bed.

“Scared the crap out of me.” She held her chest.

His eyes were focused on the floor, “Sorry. Addison said you were in here.” He stretched his long fingers out over his thighs before looking up at her.

“I wanted to apologize for coming onto you so strong and kissing you. I should have been more of a gentleman about it, not that I regret kissing you because I don’t.”

She sat down next to him, “I don’t either and you don’t need to apologize. It was nice to know I remembered how to kiss a man.”

He chuckled finally looking over at her, “It’s like I’m living out a meet-cute rom-com without a script and it’s terrifying. There’s a fine line between endearing and creepy. I feel like I’m crossing the line into creepy.”

(Y/N)’s hand was trembling but she placed it over his, “You’re not creepy. Addison told me about how you wanted to get to know me. I think it’s been so long since a man has shown any interest in me that I don’t know how to react to it. Let alone that man being someone I have fantasized about being the Leading Man in my own life.”

“Is there any way we could start over? You being you and me being just a normal dude wanting to ask you out?” He laced their fingers together, “Or at least ask you to watch fireworks with me?”

(Y/N) smiled, “I would love to watch fireworks with you… what was your name again?”

His breathtaking smile appeared as he stood up in front of her, “Hi, I’m Glen and you?”

She took his outstretched hand, standing up, “(Y/N), it’s nice to meet you totally normal dude who is definitely not a famous sexy actor.”

He laughed pulling her into his side slipping his arm around her shoulders, “That’s me. Normal dude who is thankful to have a chance to be in the presence of a beautiful woman.”

“Oh jeez, please stop with the compliments. They make me uncomfortable.” She sighed, sliding her arm around his waist.

-----

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[everparanoid]

For you, I'd steal the stars w/ Wriothesley

Modern Teyvat Au! Wriothesley x f! reader

cw: fluff, minor hint at soulmates.

word count: 3.5k

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠...

╭────────────────────────╮

Wriothesley couldn’t recall how he found himself standing on an unimportant cyan Tuesday afternoon in Autumn, staring at a painting in the Fontaine National Art Gallery not too far away from his office. The painting, Wriothesley reckoned, couldn’t be any larger than two sheets of parchment and yet it hung alone in the centre of a white room. A masterpiece of simplicity. Above him, a giant white ball spun in slowed motion as plain as the rest of the room, a compliment to the art. The canvas however was a deep navy blue, the same shade as the night. Covering this deep blue were speckles of white, spontaneous in their positions. Some gathered in clustered constellations unknown to man. Others, singular. In the middle a golden speck shone, overwhelming the image the longer he stared. He stared and stared until it appeared to be shooting out of the blues and whites and filling his vision. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why such a simple concept had moved him. Why an image alone in a room far away from all the other extravagant displays of artistic prowess had managed to give him such peace; for in the time that he had been staring at the image—lost to time and the world—he had experienced a thousand lifetimes. He’d been everything; from a small sapling to an ancient oak tree; from a huge wolf to a small squirrel; from a primordial narwhal to a tiny transparent fish swimming in the bottom of the darkest blue seas. He’d experienced nations crumbling and rising again and loves that transcended time and space. All beautiful. All but a millisecond in the eyes of the vast universe.

“To you in every universe,” an unknown voice said.

“Huh?” Wriothesley responded, his attention stolen. His reality returned to the same bleak normality which he had just escaped.

You nodded to the painting, “That’s its name.”

He stared at you with an uncertainty reserved for strangers. He hadn’t heard your footsteps as you entered the room nor had he seen you stop beside him, and yet here you were. A stranger. A golden fleck in his blue world.

“Are you interested in it?” You spoke using a soft tone that Wriothesley particularly liked. He hadn’t heard a voice like yours before. He hadn’t heard much past the same blue tones of business tycoons and wannabe entrepreneurs who wished to fill his and their pockets with mounds of green. Being a successful CEO of a Fortune 100 made one lose the many colours of life to shades of blue and green. At the end of a long day, he often found himself wondering what the sun might look like beyond the aeons of blue.

“In what, sorry?” he responded, confused.

“The painting.”

He noticed your name card pinned to your collar announcing you as a member of staff from the gallery.

“Oh, yes. I am,” he said almost sheepishly; his interest was still new to him. Wriothesley always prided himself on his curiosity though he’d never thought himself to be one interested in art. Yet on that random Tuesday when his assistant had got his meal wrong, he’d found himself wandering into the art gallery as if compelled by some supernatural force. “I’ve never seen this before.”

Wriothesley was sure that if he had known such a masterpiece was here, he would have come to see it.

“It’s new,” you said.

“Ah, I see.”

He felt your eyes linger on him for a second before you continued. “Most people are disappointed when they pay the five thousand mora to get past the security only to see this.”

He supposed objectively that he could understand why. If one was hoping for a room of mirrors or a light show they were bound to be disappointed. Then again five thousand mora did buy a meal deal at the local supermarket. But what was five thousand mora to him?

“How long has it been here?” he asked.

“As of right now?” you appeared to be looking up as if calculating, “Three weeks.”

“And how are the numbers?”

“At first people came for the exclusivity and the curiosity. But because the artist is anonymous, they didn’t advertise their art. It’s their thing, I guess. A sort of authorless art. I think it lets people project more. You know? Imagine themselves as the artist…”

Wriothesley did know. Even as a successful man, more than half of the projects happening in Fontaine were due to his discreet puppeteering. He did not like the limelight. He’d make appearances here and there but the people who needed to know him knew him, and those who didn’t could read the credits. It was his philosophy that one didn’t need their face everywhere to do their job.

 “But now… I guess we are lucky if we get twenty people in a week. There is other interesting stuff to look at in the gallery so…” your speech faded off.

Wriothesley hummed in acknowledgement.

“Honestly, there aren’t many people that show true interest in this piece,” you continued.

He could feel the excitement seep from your pores like solar flares, and he almost found himself stepping closer to absorb its heat.

“Do you want to know about it?” you asked suddenly.

Buzz Buzz.

“No,” he hesitated, glancing down at his phone. “Thank you.”

Your shoulders dropped but your smile remained.

“It’s okay.”

“Perhaps another time?” He found himself saying. He hadn’t known why he had proposed that. He had no intentions of coming back. He didn’t have the time to come back. To see; to stop; to experience, but he would. He knew that he would. Even if he had to make the time. He’d return in hopes of experiencing that feeling once more.

#

On a random cerulean Tuesday in Winter, he returned. It had been two months since he first witnessed the painting. Once again, he had wandered into the art gallery during a lunch break. And once again, he stood in the empty room. Alone. Lost in a dream within a dream. This time, as he stared into the painting that had once again entranced him, he became a blade of grass growing next to a beautiful flower. Watching it; admiring it; loving it. He couldn’t understand why in every instance you seemed to seep in. He didn’t know you, and yet it felt like he’d seen you in everything since that day.

‘A moment where time stops, worries fade, and everything feels right. That is the feeling we are chasing. That is the feeling we must never stop searching for. In those moments, I will recognise you in every lifetime. Across every state of being. My heart will seek out yours like eyes do at night, in search of a northern star. I will seek you in every beautiful thing. To you in every universe—’

Wriothesley leaned back, perplexed. The plaques lining the walls of the white room and under the ball held no information about the artist. What had it meant? He couldn’t fathom the thought of something so abstract.

“It’s you,” that same voice from before said from behind, tearing Wriothesley from his thoughts. He didn’t need to turn to know that the owner of the voice was you. Your silent presence had a magnetic quality, pulling him in without him realising it, and suddenly there you were, standing beside him.

“Hello,” he said, though the greeting felt insufficient when he laid eyes upon you. He couldn’t decide whether you had grown more beautiful, or his memory hadn’t held up the splendour that took his breath away when you stood with that genuine smile on your face, and your hands tucked into the pockets of the blazer you wore. You looked like a painting yourself, like something that had just stepped out of a Constable landscape and wandered into the gallery. An angelic apparition. You had a gentle sway to you like you couldn’t stand completely still. Wriothesley wondered if a gust of wind were to blow through the white room, would it blow you away too, like a leaf flees a tree in a breezy morning?

“Did you experience something different this time?” you asked.

Wriothesley’s features darkened. You couldn’t possibly see into his mind, and he wasn’t one to wear his emotions on his face. He’d learnt not to.

“Have I been standing here for a while?”

You shook your head. “No more than ten minutes.”

He blinked.

“It felt like longer, right?” you asked, cheerily.

“A lifetime,” he admitted, his voice softening.

“It does that.”

“Should I leave? Am I holding up the line?”

“No, you’re good,” you said. “No one comes here anymore anyway.”

You turned to the painting. It hadn’t changed, and yet for Wriothesley, the beauty of it seemed to spill out of the edges and illuminate you. Golden. Flickering. He found himself stealing glances at you, an intriguing stranger who had effortlessly piqued his interest. An intriguing stranger, who he only knew the name of and nothing else. Unconsciously, he leaned toward you, and you did too, as if pulled into each other’s gravitational field.

“Why is it alone?” he asked.

You stepped back and looked up at the giant white ball above, spinning in slow circles, and then to the plain white walls in the otherwise stark room.

“It’s not alone.”

“But it is,” he snapped, growing quite annoyed with his inability to understand your abstractness.

Wriothesley liked answers. Puzzles were fun, and they had their place in his world, but answers were like keys to locked doors.

“What makes you think that just because there is a singular piece in a room the whole place is not art?”

His brows furrowed.

Your smile widened as you turned to the painting. “If this room was filled with paintings, would you have noticed it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from you and your questions.

You took another step back, and Wriothesley watched you as you stopped directly under the giant white ball this time. With an open hand outstretched to him, he gathered that you wanted him to join you in the centre of the room. Eventually, he took one long step, and then another till he stood closer to you but not beside.

You lowered your hand.

“Let me put this another way for you, when you sit in your—” you looked him over, “meetings, and you attend your fancy work dinners, do you notice all the art around you? The furniture, the architecture, the choices made by your colleagues to look expensive. Do you stop to take it all in or does it become lost in singular shades of monotony?”

Wriothesley pictured the blues and greens of his life but dismissed the idea of you understanding his thoughts. “You don’t make millions by not noticing.”

You shrugged. “But you do become numb to it.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but you’re saying that the whole room is art?”

Wriothesley couldn’t say that he was fond of modern art, but he did appreciate that it had a time and place.

“This room, stark and colourless, is as much a part of the painting as the painting itself. Without the painting, the room remains devoid of colour, but with it, the room comes to life. It’s as if the artist intended the painting to be a guide in an otherwise monochrome world. By which, you who see it realise that the painting was never confined to the canvas. But can see the beauty of the entire world, in all lifetimes, across universes. Or maybe it is something completely different, art is subjective after all.”

“To you, the world must be a beautiful place,” he mused aloud.

“And yours is not?”

He chuckled, “I can assure you it’s not as vibrant as yours.”

“What makes you think that mine is vibrant? What if mine is like this room? Bland and empty.”

He wouldn’t believe it, but then again, he wouldn’t not believe it either. It was always the people with the brightest souls who hurt the most.

“I’ll do you one better. What if it’s mine?” he asked.

“Are you seeing your golden star right now then, mister?”

“It’s Wriothesley, and maybe.”

Wriothesley noticed your eyes widen briefly before you suppressed a small smile and took a step back. “Well Wriothesley, I’ll have to agree. It is yours. It’s your mind, your world. The painting is your universe. At least that’s how I think the artist intended it.”

“There is no artist,” he said.

You tilted your head to the side slightly and clasped your hands behind your back.

“There always is,” you said and glanced back at him before returning to the painting. “If you have the time to hear about them, I will gladly tell you.”

In his pocket, his phone rang, filling the silent room. His time was up once again.

“Next time,” he said.

A sadness flashed across your eyes before you smiled.

“Sure,” you said.

#

A month passed, and the sad lingering look in your eyes haunted Wriothesley through his blue days. Green still rained from the sky, but every time he caught a glimmer of gold passing his office or on the street, he’d imagine it was you.

On a random Wednesday in Winter, one that felt more azure than usual, Wriothesley came again to the gallery. But this time, the white room was filled with modern paintings. Gone was the white ball and the night sky painting, and you. Gone was the security guard who would grumble every time Wriothesley dropped a small wad of mora in the man’s hand to let him into the paid exhibit. In its place, people heaved; phone cameras flashed and made snapping noises as they posed before the art, hoping to add it to their social media feed. Wriothesley didn’t enter the room; he couldn’t. He didn’t like crowded places, and none of the art was of interest to him. And none of them were you.

Wriothesley cleared his throat and straightened his tie as he approached the help desk by the entrance of the gallery. Behind it sat an older man, staring down at his mobile phone, humming along to a Vocaloid song that played in his earbuds. Beside him, a younger man, barely eighteen, who looked excited at the possibility of not staring into space any longer, waved Wriothesley over.

“Can I help you, sir?” the young man said. His name card, Timmie, glimmered under the artificial light.

“Yes, I think you can,” Wriothesley began. “There was an exhibit here about a month ago. One with a singular painting in it—no artist.” He wanted to ask about you but thought better than to do that.

“No artist?” Timmie asked.

“Yes, no artist.”

Timmie rubbed the back of his neck as if he couldn’t comprehend the idea of an exhibition without an artist.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“I am.”

After apologising quickly, he began typing aggressively at his keyboard. Typing and then deleting and typing again. Presumably, he was bringing up the list of art that had been exhibited over the last year. Wriothesley waited, tapping his foot, and watching people pass, nodding at the occasional person who stared.

“I’m sorry, Sir, I can’t seem to find the exhibit you are talking about.”

Wriothesley frowned.

“Oh? But it was here last month?”

“It’s not showing up on my files without an artist’s name unless you remember the name of the piece?”

“To you in every universe,” Wriothesley said, remembering only the colour of your eyes and the gold aura that seemed to follow you. He was sure he’d remember that name until all the stars left the sky.

Timmie typed it out, and for a second, Wriothesley had hope. Until Timmie looked up and said, “Oh, that. It’s moved temporarily to the International Modern Art Gallery in Inazuma.”

“Inazuma?”

Timmie nodded.

“As has the artist,” His eyes widened. “Who would have thought? She’s one of our own.”

Wriothesley perked up at the information.

“Did you happen to have her name by any chance so I might look her up?” Wriothesley asked, trying to mask his desperation with cool indifference.

“I mean if you want,” Timmie said.

#

In the art shop attached to the gallery on an emerald Friday, more than a year later in Spring, Wriothesley found you assisting an elderly woman, wrapping a print of a painting. He paused, captivated by the sight of you. You were even more stunning despite the time passed and in comparison to the modelesque women he saw in his everyday life. Your beauty, accentuated by the soft lighting of the shop, and your radiant smile, seemed to light him up inside. He lingered amongst the shelves waiting for you to finish up with the elder woman, who was eagerly telling you about her seventh great-grandchild, to which you seemed to listen with just as much interest. He found himself mirroring your joy as he admired you until he stumbled upon a postcard of the piece he had spent months searching for. The one that had moved to Inazuma, then to Mondstadt, then to Snezhnaya, Sumeru, and Natlan, till he bought it at an auction, white room, giant spinning ball, blue painting, plaques, and all. In this picture, the last plaque was too small to be noticed, just as it had been when he’d stared at it both times in person. But he knew it was there, the final part of the collection of plaques. And the full name of the exhibition.

When the elderly woman left, he approached you, his eyes locked on you who had become his universe.

You looked up and smiled, “It’s a beautiful piece,” you said, gesturing to the postcard in his hand.

“It is,” Wriothesley replied, his gaze fixed on you rather than the inferior postcard print. Nothing could compare to the real thing. “But the exhibition has gone.”

“It has,” you confirmed. He was sure you knew that it was him who bought it. It wasn’t hard to figure out, he was obvious despite his outward coolness.

“Are you leaving too?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. He had thought you were a dream. You’d been gone for so long that he feared he would have to wait a lifetime.

“Why?”

“You weren’t here,” he said, trying to keep his voice casual.

 “I was volunteering at a cat shelter,” you lied. “Did you miss me?”

“Mildly,” he responded, though he too was lying.

“Only mildly?”

He laughed, “Okay, maybe a bit more—”

“Just a bit?” you interrupted, your eyes sparkling.

“I missed your commentary,” he admitted.

“My commentary? Wow,” you said, feigning surprise.

“Oh? Not enough for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes dancing with mirth. He pretended to think, but in truth, he was searching for a simple way to express such complex emotions.

“I missed your sunny presence,” he finally said.

“My sunny presence?” you echoed.

“Are you going to keep repeating everything I say?” he asked, unable to suppress his smile.

“Maybe,” You leaned forward on the counter, your intelligent eyes tearing down his icy walls. “What have you been up to? Aside from missing me, of course.”

“I just abandoned a meeting to chase after a shooting star,” Wriothesley confessed, for once wearing his heart on his sleeve.

“And? Did you catch it?”

“Half of it,” he affirmed. “When does your shift end?”

“I’m just finishing. Why?” you asked, curiosity piqued.

“I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee with me?” he proposed, hoping he wasn’t too late. He’d already blocked off the rest of the night. He’d block off the rest of the year if he knew he’d get to spend it with you.

“I don’t like to drink coffee this late.”

“Tea, then? With dinner? I would love to hear about the artist of that piece. What was its full name again? For the painting and the room.”

“To you in every universe—” you began.

“For you, I’d steal the stars,” he finished. “Very sneaky of you by the way.”

Your lips parted as you took in a breath.

Wriothesley could feel every nerve in his body fighting to touch you, to be closer to you. You who brought gold into his monotonous world. You who he’d steal all the stars in the universe to be closer to.

“You know I never believed in coincidences,” Wriothesley said.

“Neither have I,” you said.

“I learned a long time ago that if you want something you have to fight for it. So, no pressure of course, but does tea and dinner sound good?”

Your grin was a small act that set his night sky ablaze with more glimmers of gold. To him, the shop couldn’t be filled with any more colours than they were then. Gone were the shades of green and blue, washed away by a spectrum of magnificence; where suddenly he was him and you were you, existing in the same universe.

“It sounds perfect,” you said.

╰────────────────────────╯

KO-FI MASTERLIST

[girlscoutbrownies]

sbg headcanons!

(i had to put a title because it keeps just showing up as “aiden” in my notifs)

some of my favourite school bus graveyard headcanons! (in celebration of 101 followers) some are mine, some belong to other people that i’ve taken as well

these got really, really long so ill split it into two parts: aiden, tyler, and taylor for this post and ashlyn, ben, and logan will be in the next

——

aiden

(bit of a tw for disassociation around the end)

- uses he/any pronouns, he mostly doesn’t give a fuck. also doesn’t care if you stick to he/him because he likes it. he also tries out mirror pronouns every once in a while and flipflops between any

- unlabelled energy. also doesn’t care abt that type of stuff, but he’s asexual and it takes him a while to grow feelings. he’s afraid of letting people close to him but it really doesn’t matter to him, not that much. he’s pretty apathetic about it

- generally smells like shittily applied cedarwood cologne. it’s one of those cheap drugstore brands and sometimes he forgets to apply it in the morning, and he doesn’t spray it very well. also smells like grass sometimes

- his favourite subject is psychology/maths/anything logic based (he likes those puzzles). growing up with his bitchass karen mom who probably twisted all the words he said, he doesn’t like cryptic or vague language or poetry (english class) because it reminds him of her. in math, there’s only one answer. in english, there’s hundreds. also the words swim on the paper and he finds it hard to focus

- he has his ears pierced. he begged his parents to take him to an ear piercing studio they just ended up taking him to claire’s but he was still so happy about it

- he BEGGED for a dog or a pet when he was very little but eventually stopped at some point. he asked for stuffed animals and never got any because “it would be too hard to keep track of when we’re moving and you would lose them and get sad” and he’s still very upset about it. used to hug like three pillows when he slept

- he was told they were settling down in georgia and now his current room has millions of stuffed animals i will not hear any arguments about this

- he’s a kicker in his sleep (when he gets any). he kicks plushies off his bed like all the time, he’s not apologetic though he’s just like “oh shit”

- worst and best guy to have a sleepover with. super clingy

- he knows very few actual life skills other than operating a microwave for frozen meals because he largely grew up alone without his parental figures in his life. ashlyn and tyler eventually teach him how to cook

- his growth is stunted bc of that period in his life and he’s short like ashlyn

- he is a HORRIBLE gossip addict. they’ll be sitting at the lunch table eating in silence and he drops “did you hear that samantha’s parents are divorced and madison dropped her bc samantha’s mom doesn’t drive them to the mall anymore” like HUH WHERE DID YOU HEAR THIS?

- he gets school lunch and very rarely (if ever) brings lunch from home. sometimes ben makes him lunches

- plays with his food (this is canon) but he makes storylines out of whatever he does its like his personal roman empire

- big fan of extreme foods (spicy, sour, etc) ((he grew up eating plain ramen)) and loves weird food combinations. everyone always makes weird faces at him when theyre at the mall and he orders weird shit

- he doesn’t know proper meal etiquette until someone has to tell him, his parents didn’t teach him anything (I HATE THEM)

- he’s a really bad cook like ben because he always ends up getting distracted, and somehow manages to skip over steps in the recipes.

- he probably likes cooking shows though and is like “yeah i could do that” (he can’t do that)

- the first time someone (tyler) made aiden a homecooked meal he started cry laughing (it was mostly crying) (nobody talks about it)

- the few times his mom has made him meals whenever she’s home they’re really bad. they don’t taste anything like home, but he didn’t know what home tasted like so he just cried. his mom thought it was because of how good it was (it wasn’t) and he just cried harder

- he dislikes bitter flavours, especially like, orange juice that you make from scratch but you don’t put any sugar in it (it’s because his mom once tried to make homemade orange juice/lemonade to feel more like a “real mom” and it was horrible

- he’ll still eat bitter food though he just wouldn’t like it that much

- likes crunchy food or food that pops in your mouth (poprocks) bc he thinks its cool

- probably needs glasses from how long he’s spent staring at screens (his backstory)

- the one thing his parents consistently did as a kid was take him to his doctors appointments so he has stellar teeth

- he’s fit and fairly athletic (jumping off walls and all) but he doesn’t play sports because he just. isn’t interested in any of it. he tries everything but nothing really sticks that much

- he eats his greens but probably wouldn’t care much for the healthy vegan lifestyle, not that much of a picky eater (this part is canon)

- his favourite holiday is halloween because 1. candy (which he didn’t get much as a kid unless he specifically asked for it or ben brought it over) and 2. he loves dressing up it’s so fun to him

- understimulation is the BANE of his existence he genuinely wants to tear out his own hair every time he gets like that. gets really irritated

- he disassociates a lot, generally experiences a lot of derealization. he doesn’t feel like he’s in his own body sometimes

- insomniac

- chases thrills so that he can “feel” something. doesn’t care if it hurts him or not, because at least then he’ll remember he’s a real person and that his life matters

- really bad at telling when people are lying/are irritated with him. he just keeps pushing until they explode

- good with secrets (his own) but isn’t good at deflecting if asked about someone else’s. he’s just like “ummm. would u look over there. a bird!”

- runs really fast, he wakes up early in the morning to take a walk around the neighborhood. he sometimes encounters tyler if he happens to go into his city (which is often, because he doesn’t like being in his house)

- his house is always really cold, which is why he tends to run really warm (his body is compensating). he knows how to turn the ac off, but it always ends up turning back on in the middle of the night

- he grew up learning The Gifted Child instrument; the piano. he dislikes classical music (he says it’s boring but it’s because of this). he also almost got forced to learn the violin but he once practiced so hard his fingers started bleeding which is how he got out of it

- likes verbal validation bc his parents never told him they were proud of him

taylor

- she/they cis demigirl, gets a bit upset at being misgendered though (people think she’s the transfem twin because tyler passes really well)

- bisexual fem pref

- decorates her locker for almost every occasion. halloween, christmas, easter, birthdays. also decorates other people’s lockers for their birthdays before school starts with sticky notes

- has tons of stuff in her locker (except food because tyler won’t let her) just in case anyone needs anything but she’s not very organized so she doesn’t know where anything is

- because of this she’s one of those people that barely makes it to the door before the bell rings but she’s trying to fix that habit

- enjoys crime documentaries/true crime, horror stuff. used to make tyler watch with her but his anxiety gets really bad and he started getting paranoid

- adores christmas bc it’s a family holiday she makes tyler and her mom homemade gifts every year

- loves dogs with every bone in her body she asks santa for one every year but alas. tyler always has to write “a letter from santa” back saying they ran out of dogs at the north pole

- uses emoticons like “:D :] :3” all the time when she types, downloaded a bunch of sticker packs too. especially cat ones

- had her future all planned out as a kid and told her dad she’d be a mechanical engineer and build trains and rockets to bring him places when he started getting really sick and couldn’t move anymore

- her hair is actually kind of dry (compared to aiden’s or ashlyn’s) because they couldn’t afford great shampoo or anything

- has an ehh skincare routine and doesn’t care much for her fashion sense, just wears whatever’s comfortable

- knows a lot of random facts as conversation starters, she’s surprisingly good at small talk ( + comforting people)

- gossips with aiden aallll the time bc she’s super sociable and knows lots of people who tell her secrets. she doesn’t tell any of the important ones but just little drama things

- her and aiden are bffs

- really likes kids because they’re funny, she has a big imagination like them so it’s easy for her to play with them

- she’s a swiftie and whenever someone asks her if she likes taylor swift as a joke bc of her name she says “i like all music!” (she loves tswift)

- really likes sweets over most types of food, she’s healing her inner child guys

- has always ALWAYS wanted to go to a circus/carnival/festival when she was younger, but they couldn’t afford tickets. she still has that dream but she obviously has bigger priorities now…

tyler

- transmale he/him

- doesn’t care that much about dating, he actually doesn’t think about it that much until he meets The Gang. he always too busy taking care of his family to bother with relationships

- dislikes heavy meals, eats in small portions. it’s a habit

- used to be a picky eater but isn’t anymore, when he was younger they struggled to put food on the table so

- he’s like tigris from ballad of songbirds and snakes; when he prepared food for the family he’d eat bits and pieces of it while cooking. eats raw meat sometimes but once got sick from it so never again because he doesn’t want people taking care of him

- he HATES being sick. HATES HATES HATES it, hates having to burden people

- stress cooks because he likes having things to do with his hands. he also runs laps/paces around when he’s stressed

- runs his hands through his hair so it’s always messy

- he doesn’t bother combing his hair unless it’s for a special occasion like the first day of school, he just doesn’t care that much

- gets up early like aiden to keep up his physical fitness, doesn’t stray far though because his mom wakes up around the same time he does

- is VERY punctual. will be furious if someone makes plans and then is late. always arrives somewhere like, fifteen minutes early. he’s trying to break taylor’s habit of being late

- occasionally scolds taylor about how messy her locker is

- is extremely (and kind of scarily) meticulous. clean backpack, clean locker, clean room. it’s a habit

- book smart and figures things out pretty easily. he has an internal computer inside his head i swear. latches onto concepts very quickly

- likes math because he’s good at memorizing concepts but biology is his worst enemy, he gets queasy very easily

- motion sickness

- doesn’t actually have a set plan for the future, other than “help his family.” will probably do something related to sports (sports scholarship) or will do something math/analytical related

- spams people when they don’t respond to him but quits eventually (semicanon)

- has some sort of separation anxiety i swear he does

- keeps every single promise he makes because he hates broken promises (his dad told him he’d be fine and out of the hospital soon), he also doesn’t make a lot of promises

- dislikes nicknames like “champ” and “buddy”

- he’s ambidextrous

- he always seems to be like, tense? can’t relax at all. it might be because of his anxiety (HE HAS ANXIETY)

- only ever relaxes if he’s at home

- rarely watches television, he says it’s a waste of time (he always gets distracted and gets up and goes to do something else) he can leave it in the background though

- i think he has chronic pain, i don’t know where but i just think he does. everything just aches sometimes and he’s so young fuck life

- he’s okay with kids like his sister, not as good as her but he’ll take care of them (habit x37362828) he’d probably say everything really monotone though “there’s santa claus, wow.”

- he and taylor both have a pretty strong southern accent from living in middle of nowhere georgia (i think someone made an art post on this a while back :D)

- is really bad at video games because he gets frustrated easily

- he grinds his teeth when he sleeps and has jaw pain what a loser

[captain-mj]

The Vampire AU

The au no one asked for but by God will I deliver

Soap laid on the luxurious bed, the robe around him fluttering and exposing most of his body. It shimmered, a dark red color, and across from him was Ghost. His Ghost. The Ghost. 

The skull mask made it hard to see his expression, but Soap could read the hunger in his eyes without a problem. A desperation that would make a lesser man nervous. But Soap could never be nervous. Not of Ghost. 

He crossed the floor quickly, the air around him bending slightly. It made him glow. And then he was on Soap, touching him with his gloves and feeling him up. His large hips pressed between his thighs, forcing his legs further apart. 

Pulling the mask up enough to expose his fangs, Ghost sank his teeth into his throat and ripped it out, blood spraying everywhere. 

Soap’s alarm clock broke him from the dream and he buried his face in the pillows and screamed for a few minutes. 

Interviewer: So, what exactly do you like about your…

Soap: The technical term is Master, but everyone keeps insisting I just call him Ghost.

Interviewer: Got you. So your Ghos-

Soap: Well, he’s not really mine. I’m his but he’s not really mine. I just kinda work for the guy.

Interviewer: And in exchange he…

Soap: Will turn me into a vampire!

Interviewer: So how long have you been working here?

Soap: Six years. 

Interviewer: Uh huh. And what do you like about Ghost?

Soap: Oh, he’s perfect. Tall, dark, mysterious. Never actually seen his face, but I’m sure he’s handsome. Never takes the mask off unless he’s feeding. He could kill me easily. He has a very sexy voice. His accent is from modern day Manchester instead of being centuries old! Apparently he changes it every few decades. I wonder what his original voice sounded like and-

The Interviewer stopped taking notes and tried to politely withstand the next thirty minutes of Soap gushing about anything and everything he could think of about Ghost. They decided not to ask about the whole “could kill me easily” part. That was this guy’s prerogative. 

Interviewer: So, what’s Ghost like?

Rodolfo: He’s a fucking loser.

Interviewer: Really? His familiar-

Rodolfo: Is lovely and all, but he has terrible taste in men. I’ve seen Ghost lay on the ceiling for six hours straight, during the night no less, because he was pouting. 

Interviewer: And why was he pouting?

Rodolfo: Soap was doing laundry. The laundry Ghost ordered him to do. So Soap couldn’t hang around him. Then, he wasted what time he could’ve spent with Soap on the ceiling.

Interviewer: oh…

Rodolfo: Like I said. Fucking loser. You’re not allowed to call him that though. Only me.

Interviewer: Yeah… Okay.

Soap did like he was told and ignored that there was a person watching him. He woke up a few hours before sunrise and dusted just like every other morning. He also put out an ad online pretending to be a single woman looking to lose her virginity. Usually the men that came would be sleazebags so it both cleaned up the streets and meant easy meals for the vampires. 

Gaz would always say hi to him when he left for some party. Sometimes, he’d try to stop him and get a rise out of him, but Soap had long since learned how to put a pause on his feelings. If Gaz fed from him, Ghost would get all weird. Talking about nutritional value and that Soap smelled funny. 

Soap had taken four showers the first time it happened but eventually he put it together. 

Then, he woke up Ghost. Well, wake up was a loose term. Half of the time, Ghost would already be up. He more went to Ghost. His room had blackout curtains so if he got up during the day time, he didn’t have to risk scorching himself. It was also the plainest. Rodolfo and Alejandro’s room was gorgeous, full of rich colors and soft fabrics. Gaz had strobe lights and neons. Tons of weird furniture too. He insisted none of them were a sex thing, but Soap didn’t believe him. 

Really, really, did not believe him. 

But Ghost kept his plain and usually only had candles. For once, he was still in his coffin when Soap came to get him at sundown. 

Soap gently knocked before he lifted the large lid. 

Ghost was… large. Very, very large. Besides being 6’4, he was broad. Big arms, big shoulders. Just… big. It definitely did not influence any of Soap’s decisions. Nope. Not at all. 

Thick black fabric covered every inch of his body, besides leather gloves on his hands and a ski mask on his face. Soap silently thanked God he had managed to get him away from the loose fitting balaclava he wore originally. It looked… 

Anyway, the sky mask was an improvement. It had a skull design on it, though there were fangs added. 

Soap only snapped back into himself when he noticed Ghost’s eyes were open. 

“Johnny. Are you just going to keep staring? You’re blocking my way out.”

“Oh, of course, sir.” Soap stepped back and offered Ghost his hand. Sometimes he took it, sometimes he didn’t. Really depended on the day. 

Today was one of the good days where he did. Even through the leather, Soap could feel just how cold Ghost’s skin was. It was borderline frigid and he wondered, not for the first time and definitely not the last, if it would hold heat or simply give him frostbite if they pressed against each other. 

Ghost’s hand left his once he was on the floor. Sometimes, Soap wondered why he walked the way he did. There was something stiff, like a general, about his posture but he had a certain amount of grace that didn’t match how the other vampires walked. All vampires were graceful. Cat like. But Ghost always seemed like he was floating. Feet barely touching the ground. 

Soap helped him out of the thick robe he slept in. It felt soft and he assumed it was used a bit like a blanket. Ghost pulled on his jacket but his eyes followed Soap. 

“Did yo-”

“Laundry is done. Place is dusted. And I’m currently setting up a virgin guy to come visit.” 

As if something heard him, his phone dinged. Someone responded to the ad, asking how soon he could come over. 

What a fucking loser. 

He was using photos of a girl from only fans (with her permission, she made him pay a small fee, but when he explained it was a “To catch a predator” type thing, she thought it was cool), so it was a hot woman, but still.

Soap checked it and responded to the message, saying the sooner the better. 

Ghost reached over and slowly patted Soap’s head, making him beam. It was the closest thing he got to praise from the guy. 

“So, what would you like to do, sir?” Soap smiled at him. 

Ghost hummed, looking away. There was a large mirror and while his clothes could be seen, nothing else could. Soap couldn’t see his mouth, but he knew he was just about to speak when someone knocked at the front door. 

“Go answer.” Ghost ordered. 

Soap nodded quickly and went downstairs, noticing Alejandro and Rodolfo when he passed their room, in various states of undress, he decided to just ignore that. So no one they were expecting. 

He opened the door and had to look slightly up at the man in front of him. 

The man had a fishing hat, a shirt that said “Fish fear me, women love me” and a pair of military fatigues. He stared into Soap and there was a brief pause.

“Hello, sir.” Soap noticed his ears. They had a large point and when he glanced at his hands, he noticed the dark claws.

Interviewer: So what do those features mean?

Soap: Means he’s an older vampire. As I’m sure you noticed, my vampires look mostly human, besides their fashion. But once they start getting older, they look less and less human. So the less human they are, the more respect you’re supposed to show. 

Interviewer: Oh. Got it. 

“Price.” The man responded before just simply staring at him.

Soap winced and looked back. “Uh… Master? Alejandro? Rodolfo?” He half shouted. “We have a visitor!” 

“Uh. Little familiar. Invite me.” Price didn’t sound rude, maybe a tad impatient, but not quite rude. 

“My name is Soap.”

Price tilted his head. “Uh… Okay. Anyway, is Simon here?”

“No?” Soap frowned. He ran through everyone in the house. “Yeah, no. We don’t have a Simon here.” 

Alejandro shoved Soap out of the way. “John! I didn’t know you’d be visiting! Come in.” Now that he had been welcomed, Price quickly stepped in the door. 

“Ale. Very, very nice to see you. How have you been?” Price smiled. His fangs flashed, wicked sharp and a pearly white, just like all the other vampires in the house. 

Soap quickly stepped back to let them talk, but he didn’t leave, pretending to be doing anything besides eavesdropping, which is exactly what he was doing. 

“I haven’t seen you since they invented lightbulbs.” Alejandro grinned. His clothing was a little more old fashioned. Closer to what was expecting for a vampire at least. Soap thought it was funny that the youngest of the three vampires (not including Gaz, but Soap felt he didn’t really count), was the only one that still wore clothes from his own era. Alejandro was still up there in age, almost two centuries, but with Rodolfo being over three centuries and Ghost being around eight, well… it didn’t seem that old. 

Soap couldn’t really talk that much, because he was 26, but semantics.

The two of them babbled on about the changes in technology and how hard it was to keep up and how touch screens were so unreliable because they only picked things up half of the time. 

“They have gloves.” Soap interrupted, not thinking much of it until Alejandro glared at him. 

“Gloves?” Price frowned. 

“Yeah, they have stuff in the finger tips to let you use a phone. It’s because when humans wear the gloves, they can’t use the touch screen either. Gh- My master uses them.”

Price hummed. “Might have to get me a pair. Phones look so fun! I see why you keep him around, Alejandro. He’s not as dumb as most humans.”

Soap decided not to take offense to that, as a human.

“Oh, he’s not mine. He’s Simon’s.” Alejandro put his hands behind his back, altering his stance a bit.

“Nevermind. I guess he is a little stupid. He said there was no Simon here.” 

Soap felt like he was short circuiting. “You mean Ghost?”

Alejandro snapped his fingers. “Oh! That’s right! We never told you his name. He doesn’t exactly need to know it, ya know?”

Price hummed. “And he never asked?”

“I did ask!”

“No, never thought to ask us.” 

“But I did! You told me familiars don’t get to know!!!”

“Wow. Humans.” 

Soap got the distinct feeling he was being fucked with. 

Then Ghost appeared. Or more accurately, came out of his room. The world shifted, Soap’s focus, like always, being on him. Ghost quickly made his way down the stairs. His boots hugged his legs, going all the way up to his knees. He had chosen one of his longer coats so it fluttered around him. 

Soap quickly wiped his mouth and tried to focus on something besides how devastatingly hot Ghost looked at all times. 

“My little batling!” 

BATLING

LITTLE 

BATLING

Soap choked and half expected Ghost to kill Price where he stood, vampire or not. Alejandro wheezed a little. 

Instead, Ghost visibly shrank down. “Sire… I am not a fledgeling anymore.” There was an accent there, and not his usual Manchester one. It was almost lyrical. Soap wished he’d use it more. “I’m also almost a millennia old.”

“Yeah, but you’re still the spunky soldier I turned! Still wear the mask I see.” Price’s disappointment was palpable, but Ghost, Simon, just shrugged it off.

“Yeah. Well. Don’t like my face being seen.” 

Alejandro chipped in. “Awe, are you anxious, little batling?” 

Ghost hit him so hard Alejandro’s head popped off and Soap let out a small scream.

“Suppose it’s better than when you first turned.” Price completely ignored that Ghost just fucking killed him.

Rodolfo fluttered down the stairs. “Hello John! You look lovely!” Price smiled immediately.

“And you look just as lovely as the last time I saw you.”

Soap was shocked. They were married for decades!!! And he just moves on?

“Get your nasty mitts off my husband!” Alejandro’s decapitated fucking head started to yell. 

Rodolfo rushed over. “Mi noche! Mi pobre amor!” He scooped up his head and kissed his cheek before reattaching it. 

Soap tried not to gag. 

Alejandro’s limbs quickly started to work again and he kissed Rodolfo several times. 

Ghost was already pulling his sire far away from him, the two of them falling into line like old friends. 

“Do you have anything to eat? Your familiar looks delicious but I know how hard good help can be to find.”

Soap flushed and it only got worse when Ghost gave him a passing glance. “Didn’t you say someone would be coming over soon?”

“Yes, around 10. It’s 9:30 now, so shouldn’t be too long, sir.” He beamed at Ghost and Ghost just shrugged him off to keep walking. Soap tried to not let that get to him. He never liked when Ghost was in his moods like this and this new guy seemed to trigger them.

Price and Ghost disappeared and Soap was left standing there awkwardly. Alejandro had wandered off, probably back to Rodolfo. 

He sighed and started to tidy up. If he knew a guest was coming, he would’ve prepared more. Probably tried ot get multiple guys to come. Or ladies if that was more this guy’s taste. Luring women in was a lot harder, but he could’ve tried! He still had a tinder set up that he could’ve used. 

Soap fiddled with his hands, not sure what to do with himself. By this time of night, usually he hung out with Ghost, keeping him entertained. Without him, he didn’t really have anything to do. He already cleaned the place up before he went to bed the morning before.

Soap sighed and sat down, trying to lure more people to the house. 

Around midnight, after all the people who came in were dragged downstairs and eaten with Soap not having to lift a finger, the vampires decided to have a night out. Ghost grabbed on to Soap’s arm and tugged him along, clearly wanting him to come too. He pulled away from him just long enough to change, ignoring that his foot kept tapping and his growing impatience that Soap wasn’t willing to go out in what was basically pajamas. Soap also ignored that Ghost didn’t leave the room, but he clearly wasn’t looking at him undressed. 

When he was done, Ghost yanked him along and Soap had to jog to keep up. They fell in line with the other three and went to a nearby nightclub. Soap noticed it was for humans, not one of the vampire focused ones they usually went to, but just brushed it off. 

Ghost quickly scouted the darkest corner table and went to hide there, Soap followed along. He sat next to Ghost. Rodolfo went to sit with them and Alejandro quickly grabbed him and yanked him to the dance floor, immediately grabbing a handful of his ass. The two of them were dressed like people from the 1800’s and Soap tried to pretend he didn’t know them because it was honestly a little embarrassing. 

Rodolfo’s tongue ended up down Alejandro’s throat. 

Embarrassing. 

Alejandro said something that was clearly horrid in Spanish. The bartender looked positively horrified. 

Very embarrassing. 

Very fucking embarrassing. 

Soap looked at Ghost, suddenly making eye contact with him. Ghost must’ve been staring at him. He tried not to let that thought get to him. 

“Can I get you anything, master?”

Ghost clearly grimaced. “Ghost or sir, Johnny. Master thing feels weird.”

“Need anything, sir?” 

“Unless you’re willing to drink bourbon and let me suck you dry later.” 

Soap choked on the scotch he had. “What?”

“I’d have to kill you though. To really get a good taste.” Ghost said it so matter of fact that Soap was pretty sure the sexual way it sounded wasn’t on purpose. “And that would be a shame.” 

Soap quickly drank his scotch. “How do you even know what bourbon taste like?”

“There was a similar drink when I was alive. Also, for a couple of years, I lived near a bar that only served bourbon. Once your blood has enough alcohol in it, I can taste it.”

“Can it get you drunk?”

“Yeah. Don’t like getting drunk though that’s when bad stuff happens.” Ghost moved away. “You should enjoy yourself. Go talk to people.” 

“And leave you alone?”

“Yes. Leave me alone.” 

Oh. 

Soap watery smiled at him and nodded, quickly leaving. He went to the bar and ordered another drink. 

Price glanced at him, but already a woman was trying to flirt with him and Soap didn’t want to interrupt the two. Instead, he just took the drink he ordered and downed it. 

Soap made sure not to get more than tipsy. Even if his vampires didn’t get drunk, unlikely, he wanted to be alert in case he was needed. 

Someone moved closer about an hour after his little exile. Handsome guy. Tall, built. If he looked a bit like Ghost, that was between Soap and God. He talked and it was clear he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, but Soap didn’t care about that. As long as he was a good lay, that would work. And if he could make it quick. Maybe they could just go to an alleyway. 

The man, Craig? Greg? Caleb?, went pale and looked up right as Soap felt Ghost’s hand on the back of his neck, grabbing him like a puppy he was scruffing. The cold leather pressed tight against his skin, making him shiver. 

“Ghost?”

“Johnny.” He said it with an exhale. “Wait outside.”

“What?”

“Wait outside for me.” Ghost forced him up and away, unnatural strength and where he grabbed him combining so Soap couldn’t exactly fight back. He frowned at him but did go outside after deciding to just not question it. 

Soap sighed and leaned against the wall near the door and lit a cigarette. He had been trying to quit, but it was hard. He took a deep puff and watched the smoke then drift to the sky. 

Soap started to count down the minutes before breaking and getting his phone out. The thick concrete walls around the nightclub kept it pretty much sound proof. It was so the music wouldn’t bother everyone on the street. 

Ghost didn’t usually ask these things of him. He didn’t like it. 

Soap got on tinder and wanted for someone to be rude to him or condescending. He scheduled dates in areas that were secluded enough the vampires could snatch the victim but not so secluded as to ring alarm bells. 

Rodolfo stepped out, Soap could tell by the sound his shoes made. He grabbed him and Soap flushed. “Maybe we should have you for dessert huh?” 

Soap shivered in his grasp. “Don’t think Ghost would be too happy about that.” He turned around and had to resist the urge to flinch back. 

Rodolfo was soaked in blood. He must’ve realized the state he was in because he let go. His hands had left bloody prints on Soap’s clothing. “Thought it’d be fun to clear the place out.”

“Ah… That why Ghost told me to wait outside?”

“Told him he shouldn’t bother, but he wasn’t sure if we’d recognize you if you got scared. Would you have gotten scared?” Rodolfo smiled at him. “I don’t think so. I mean last time I ate in front of yo-” 

Soap got flustered and grabbed his cross necklace through his shirt. “Rodolfo!” He kept it on for the exact scenario Rodolfo mentioned. If one of them ever had too much bloodlust, ever didn’t realize it was him, he could pull it out. Never had to use it before, luckily. But it was always there. A weight on his chest. 

“The sex we had was phenomenal.” Rodolfo assured, as if that was why Soap interrupted him. Maybe to him, that’s what it seemed like. They were so… shameless when it came to sex. Soap was almost jealous of it. Catholic guilt and the devastating fact he was human kept him from ever having that. “I can see why Ghost keeps you around.”

“Oh, Ghost and i have never…”

“NEVER???” Rodolfo laughed. “Seriously?? Huh. Guess it makes sense.” 

Ghost came out with Alejandro hanging all over him, the two of them carrying each other basically. “I think that last guy… had more than just alcohol.” Ghost said while Alejandro made a motion to his nose to show it was likely cocaine. 

Rodolfo laughed. “I told you two he smelled funny. Where’s Price?” 

Alejandro opened his jacket to show where a bat was hanging on the inside of it. “Got tired and decided to take a name.” 

“Old fucking man.” Ghost grinned, mask still pulled up. Soap took in what he could. Even bloody, he could make out more features than he could before. 

Soap followed slightly behind and Rodolfo led them. Alejandro started singing some old drinking song in Spanish and Ghost hummed along, stumbling a little. Without thinking, Soap put his hand on his back to right him, only realizing when he felt Ghost stiffen beneath his hands. Before he could pull away and apologize for touching him without warning, Ghost’s arm was around his shoulder, yanking him closer. He used Soap to help balance himself and Alejandro. 

“Ghost, if I turn into a bat can you carry both of us?”

“No.”

“What if we all turn into bats and Soap carries us?”

Ghost paused and looked at Soap, as if asking permission.

“Oh… Uh… Sure?” Soap had a hoodie on but he managed to fit Price and Alejandro in his hoodie pocket. Ghost wiggled directly into his hoodie before he could offer to let him ride on his shoulder, instead poking his head out of the neck of it, right under Soap’s head. Rodolfo, not one to walk if it could be avoided, hid in the hoodie. 

Soap decided not to point out they could just, ya know, fly home. Instead, he gently carried his family back to the house. He thought about a few things and wondered briefly if Price would be his grandsire when Ghost turned him. 

Would they do things like this with him? He also wondered what Gaz was doing. For good reasons, they didn’t go to the club he was at, probably not wanting to mess with him feeding, but he kinda wished he was there. Gaz probably would’ve waited outside with him. 

Ghost suddenly moved and Soap put an arm on him through his hoodie to support him. He felt him get cozier in the hoodie before stilling again. 

Once home, they all disappeared to their respective rooms. Sunrise was a lot closer than he realized and he suddenly felt sick for not rushing home faster, even if none of them cared. 

Fuck, he’d probably have to burn the hoodie. It was disgusting. All of them had so much blood on them and it was now all over all his clothes. 

He grumbled as he shoved his clothes and all of the vampires’ clothing, after they so graciously gave them to him to clean, into the bathtub and dumped a bunch of hydrogen peroxide and cold water. 

Gaz came home and had brought coffee for both of them. Must’ve been a great night because he was glowing and didn’t even try to steal a bite from Soap, which he was grateful for. Soap started to clean and Gaz watched him. 

Interviewer: Oh, we didn’t talk much earlier.

Gaz: Yeah we did.

Interviewer: I don’t… 

They notice they have notes from them discussing how Gaz is an energy vampire that feeds off excitement and happiness. And how after those feedings, memories can get fuzzy about them. 

Gaz: So yeah.

Interviewer: So why did you bring Soap coffee?

Gaz: The happier he is, the better the house vibe. Plus, his happiness and gratitude is delicious. Not for a meal, too sweet, but he’s a nice little snack. 

Interviewer: Huh. 

Note to self, they’re all kinda selfish assholes. 

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 13 - Summer: Nighttime Perils

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: A terrible incident occurs during preparations for your first meeting with Furina as Neuvillette’s wife.

Warnings: Assault, injury, drunk people Note: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette in Domus Aurea

Previous | Next

“I’ve got nothing to wear…”   

Uttering that complaint for what felt like the thousandth time, you flopped down onto your bed, which looked as though your closet had exploded all over it. Not for the first time, you lamented the excess of practical, modest, and exceedingly plain clothing in your wardrobe.  

It was said that the clothes one wore reflected the soul. In that case, your soul was fully on display to an embarrassing extent.   

You pictured you and Neuvillette standing next to each other. Though his outfits didn’t vary much in color or style, they were always elegant and well put together, befitting his status and position. Meanwhile, with your sensible sweaters and plain knee-length skirts, looked more like the Chief Justice’s secretary than his wife. That wouldn’t be a problem normally, and in fact, it would be preferrable due to the secretive nature of your marriage. But this particular occasion wasn’t normal.  

Furina had agreed to the meeting. By Neuvillette’s account, she was most enthusiastic about it. It would be taking place in three days and held in his office.   

The bravado you had felt before in his cozy study, as you brushed his long, silky hair, had all but dissipated by now. Instead, you were left with a growing anxiety and doubt that gnawed at your mind.  

The chief of them being, Will this go smoothly without any incident?  

It was true that your great-grandparents had personally met with Furina (it had become somewhat of a point of pride), but this was very different from a mere appointment to ask for a favor from the Archon. In your case, you were going to present yourself to her as the wife of Chief Justice.   

You were well aware that this whole meeting was a chance for Furina to probe at your marriage and more specifically, you.   

Anything strange, out of the ordinary, or unusual would be pounced upon by the drama-loving Archon. Therefore, you had to maintain a perfect, unassailable front. You had to present yourself as someone who looked like she could be Neuvillette’s spouse. That started with appearance. Unfortunately, that was the biggest hurdle you were facing right now.  

You never had a problem with your wardrobe until now. Sure, your clothes weren’t the trendiest or most luxurious, but they were durable and comfortable, and you took pride in the fact that you took good care of them, mending tears and ironing out wrinkles regularly. You considered wearing the black semi-formal dress you wore for interviews at the Palais Mermonia for the governess license qualification process, but it seemed too plain and austere for the occasion.  

As the first person in your family to meet with the Hydro Archon in generations, and as Neuvillette’s wife, you needed to make a good impression.  

“Well, your tastes certainly lean more towards the practical, Madame,” Marie said. She was sitting on a chair and carefully looking through your clothes. You had asked her to come to your room as a second opinion. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to go shopping for clothes that are more befitting of your current status.”  

“A status that I will lose at the year’s end,” you reminded her, but you didn’t disagree with her suggestion. As someone who was raised by frugal parents, you were more prone to saving up your Mora and only spending when it was necessary. That was what you did with the allowance that Neuvillette gave you, but…perhaps the time had finally come to use it. After all, one could make the argument that nice clothes were essential in situations where you had to make a good impression, and let’s face it, Neuvillette wasn’t exactly hard up for money…  

The fashionable but expensive clothes that you could only admire from afar until now came to mind. Now, you had the means to obtain them for yourself. You felt little bubbles of excitement in your stomach at the thought.   

“I suppose I’ll be hitting up the shopping district tomorrow,” you said, sitting up. “It’s long overdue, anyways.”  

“Indeed, Madame,” Marie looked very excited for some reason. “Honestly, Monsieur Neuvillette should have taken you out shopping a long time ago.”   

“He’s always busy, so it can’t really be helped. He already gave me plenty of money to spend anyway, so I can just shop on my own. Besides, does he even enjoy doing things like shopping?”  

“Mm-hmm,” Marie sounded like she wanted to say something, but held her tongue. “In any case, he is in for a wonderful surprise to see you all dressed up.”  

“I’m not doing it for him ,” you protested, even as you had to admit that you were curious to see Neuvillette’s reaction to you in clothes that you didn’t normally wear. What would he say? What expression would he make? Would he like them?   

You hoped he would. No, you wanted him to.   

“Perhaps you could model your outfit for him when he comes home tonight,” Marie carried on, seemingly not hearing what you just said.

“That’s a good idea,” you said. The idea hadn’t occurred to you. And while you were at it, you should have a discussion with him about what you were going to say to Furina. You had to come up with a good story to tell.  

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you told Marie as you folded up your clothes to put them back in your closet. “You’re always so full of good advice.”  

“If only my own children thought the same way as you, Madame,” she laughed.  

s you stared in bewilderment at the row of high-end boutiques stretching out before you, you couldn’t help but feel that you were in way over your head.  

The low, colorful buildings sparkling in the sun reminded you of jewelry boxes that looked too expensive to touch, lest you leave a smudge on them. The impeccably dressed and coiffed shop clerks standing in front of their doors smiled invitingly and greeted passersby, but their eyes reminded you of the mothers working tirelessly at every ball you had attended—sizing up everyone who walked by and trying to sniff out the ones whose wallets were in need of a little lightening.   

But what intimidated you the most was the sheer variety of shops. You were surrounded on every side by fashionable clothing in a multitude of colors, sizes, and styles. Every time you saw something you liked, another caught your eye that you liked even more. This particular district was very different from the usual, more limited selection of stores that you usually visited. Now that you had the money to spend, you were quickly learning that having more choice wasn’t necessarily more convenient.  

It would be so much easier if I had my sister with me, or my friends, you thought wistfully , but quickly put it out of your mind. They would no doubt pepper you with questions you had no idea how to answer. You still weren’t sure what you were going to say to Furina yet.  

Just as you were standing there, uncertain as to what to do, you heard a familiar high-pitched voice calling out to you. “Madame! I didn’t know you were going shopping today!”  

You turned and saw a group of Melusines and, for some reason, Clorinde, walking towards you. These Melusines all worked for the Marechausee Phantom, but they were in civilian clothing instead of their uniforms. Perhaps this was their day off.  

“Oh, hello, everyone,” you greeted them. “Something came up suddenly, so I needed to do some clothes shopping right away.”  

“Something came up suddenly?” The Melusine who called out to you—Rhemia was her name—repeated. Her expression then changed, and she grinned, as though a realization hit her. “Oh, I get it! It certainly is a very urgent matter, then.”  

The other Melusines seemed to have also caught on to whatever it was, as they all giggled. You had a bad feeling that they were under some kind of mistaken assumption, but as Clorinde was here, you couldn’t correct them. “Can we join you, then? We’re also about to go shopping for clothes.”  

“Sure, that would be lovely,” you said. It was good to have company, even if you weren’t sure if the Melusines, with their unique perception of color and style, would be very helpful.   

Your gaze shifted to Clorinde, who had been standing silently behind the Melusines until now. Her face showed no hint of what she was thinking. It was as though this was the first time you had met each other.  

“Hello, Miss Clorinde,” you greeted her, not wanting to make things awkward. “Are you out shopping as well?”  

She shook her head. “The girls asked me to come along, and as I had some free time, I agreed.” She paused, then added, “I did not know you were married, Madame [Name].”  

“Just [Name] is fine,” you quickly said. “Or Madame, like everyone else does.”  

Clorinde had seen you walking with Neuvillette in the early morning, and now she learned that you were married. It didn’t take a genius to connect the dots.  

Fortunately, she didn’t question you any further, nor show much emotion to the revelation. Neuvillette said that she wasn’t the type to gossip, so you supposed there wasn’t anything to worry about for now.  

“Come on, Madame,” Rhemia was tugging on your hand, pulling you towards the nearest shop. “There’s no time to waste!”  

The sun shined brightly down upon your little group, heralding the start of a long day.  

There is a certain danger in shopping with others, you thought as you trudged back home, hands laden with shopping bags.   

You had assumed that you were just going to buy a few new outfits. But somehow, you ended up buying a whole new wardrobe, plus more things that you weren’t even sure you needed, like accessories, makeup, and even perfume.  

Despite that, you felt a sense of tired contentment, the kind that came after a long day of satisfying work and ample rewards. It had been a very long time since you enjoyed a day out with a group of friends. It was also a nice feeling, being able to spend money on whatever you wanted without worrying about the price or whether you actually needed it. You now understood why the ladies of the upper class frequented the shops every day. What a frightening slippery slope.   

You were certainly feeling the effects of it right now—it felt like your arms were about to fall off. Come to think of it, I do wonder if these clothes would all fit in my suitcase when the time comes to leave. Perhaps I should get another one…  

Clorinde, who seemed stoic and aloof at first, was surprisingly easygoing, if not very talkative, as you had discovered during the course of the day. She knew the best shops and had plenty of good advice on what to pick and wear.  

She had offered to help you carry your bags home, but you declined. You weren’t sure how much she knew about your relationship with Neuvillette, but it was better not to assume anything.   

“I could go and fetch Monsieur Neuvillette instead,” she said.   

You were aghast. “I couldn’t ask him to drop his work for such a trivial matter,” you protested.  

“I don’t believe he would see it that way,” Clorinde said. “Besides, he’ll be off work soon.”  

Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Neuvillette to come all the way here just to help you carry your bags. He would have to make a detour on his usual route home from the Palais. He should have a leisurely rest at home after a long day at work.  

There was another, sillier, reason behind your decision—you wanted to surprise him.  

You couldn’t help but picture his reaction to the clothes you and the others picked out. Would he like them? Secretly, you hoped he would. You wondered what he would say. You wondered how he would look at you.  

The thought of being looked at by him, for whatever reason, sent a shiver down your spine. All your life, you had become accustomed to being overlooked, to being invisible. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all. While others had the spotlight cast upon them, you were happy to remain in the shadows, free to do whatever you wanted. True, it bothered you sometimes that you might be a ghost in the lives of others, only remembered as a presence in the background, but surely the benefits outweighed the negatives, right?  

But Neuvillette was different. He was always looking directly at you. When you were with him, you felt more…solid. Like you mattered. Like you had some importance in his life—to him. It was wishful thinking that you shouldn’t entertain, but from time to time, you succumbed to it.  

After you parted ways with everyone, you slowly walked back home. You weren’t very familiar with this area, but as it was still daylight out and there were plenty of people walking around, you weren’t worried.   

Then, suddenly, you spotted a used bookshop tucked between a flower shop and a jewelry store. Your eyes would have skipped over it if you hadn’t seen the store sign.  

You eagerly made your way inside and was greeted with the invigorating scent of old books. After saying hello to the owner, you disappeared between the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Mysteries, romances, fantasy…they called to you with their siren songs, but you didn’t stop until you reached the one section you were looking for—the history section.  

You let out an embarrassing squeal once you reached the shelf. Luckily, there was no one around to hear you.    

The shelf was filled with everything from glossy textbooks to jacketless tomes that went out of print decades ago. Not even the library had some of these books. And they were all at reasonable prices, too… Oh, but I’m already carrying so many things. I can’t possibly buy these heavy books as well. But what if someone buys them before me?   

There was a comfy-looking couch nearby that was beckoning you to curl up on it with a book. Well, just one read wouldn’t hurt, right?  

You picked a book at random. This one was titled Boethius: Harmost and Villain. It was right up your alley, and it wasn’t too thick. You could probably finish this one in an hour. You sat down on the couch and immersed yourself in its world.  

“Miss, we’re closing soon.”  

A voice broke through your reverie. It belonged to the store owner.  

“Huh…?” you blink up at her, feeling as though you had just emerged from underwater. “O-Oh! I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time…”  

You hurriedly got up and reshelved the stack of books next to you. Feeling bad that you didn’t end up purchasing anything, you inwardly promised to come back here tomorrow.   

As you made your way to the door, you stopped in shock. It was completely dark outside. How long had you been reading?  

Ugh, this always happens. Once you got absorbed in a book, hours could pass in the blink of an eye.  

“Be careful out there, Miss,” the owner told you, and you nodded, bidding her good night.   

The sun had mostly set, the stores around you were all closed, and there were few pedestrians on the streets.  

Luckily, you could still see the Palais Mermonia soaring high above the city. If you headed towards it, you would surely be able to find your way back home. With that in mind, you walked on ahead quickly.  

I should have asked the bookshop owner for directions, you thought as you turned down a narrow lane, but you weren’t sure if you could find your way back. The streetlights were coming on, but the harsh, dark shadows they cast made you speed up a little bit more. I could ask it to stop near Neuvillette’s neighborhood and walk the rest of the way back…  

However, you saw no carriages around. In fact, there was no one around at all. Oh Archons, I made a huge mistake!  

Even back in your sleepy little hometown, your parents always cautioned you to never stay out late. You heeded their advice in the Court of Fontaine as well, very conscious of the fact that it wasn’t rare for young ladies like you to get kidnapped off the streets. And yet, here you were, ripe for the picking with your arms laden with shopping bags.  

I’m an idiot, I’m an idiot, I’m an idiot… you berated yourself in your head as you quickened your footsteps, your heart racing. Your earlier refusal of Clorinde’s offer to accompany you home now seemed to you a stupid, short-sighted decision.   

I’ll just stay close to the streetlights for now, you decided. You fixed your gaze on the Palais and tried to focus on reaching it. Deep, calming breaths, [Name]…almost there…  

However, every time it seemed that you were on the verge of reaching it, a sudden turn or twist in the road would divert you further away from it. Eventually, you had to admit that you were hopelessly lost.  

What’s worse, this particular area you found yourself in had a shady air to it that raised the hairs on the back of your neck. You weren’t sure if this was one of the less savory parts of town you had always been warned about, but it sure felt like it. The darkened windows of the buildings felt like eyes staring down at you. Maybe you were being watched. No, don’t be paranoid, you told yourself, but to no avail.   

In any case, I have to get out of here.   

But just then, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead of you, heading in your direction. Your steps faltered slightly when you saw that it was a burly man dressed in a surprisingly fine business suit. He was swaying from side to side and muttering to himself. A drunk?  

Instinctively, you tightened your grip on your bags and stuck close to the shadows. Perhaps he would be too drunk to notice you.  

Unluckily, just as you were about to pass him, he called out to you in a slurred, hoarse voice.  

“Lovely evening, eh, Miss?”  

Even from here, you could smell the stink of alcohol on his breath. His eyes were glazed over, and he was teetering on his feet. He must be terribly drunk.  

“...Mm,” you said, giving him a brief nod and not looking him in the eye. You tried to sidle past him, but he grabbed your upper arm. His fingers were thick and sweaty, his grip firm. Goosebumps rose on your body.  

“Where ya going in such a hurry, huh? Why dontcha join me for a drink?”   

You tried to shake him off, but he didn’t budge. In fact, his hold on your arm only tightened. That’s going to leave a bruise in the morning, your thought distantly.  

“Hey, why aren’t ya talking? You a mute or something?”  

You pursed your lips and gave him the nastiest glare you could manage, even as you felt your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. Reasoning with a drunk, especially an aggressive one like him, was futile. You should scream for help. The other end of the alley was not that far away. Maybe a patrolling Garde would hear you.   

You took a deep breath and was about to let out a scream, but barely a squeak left your mouth before the man’s meaty hand clamped over your mouth. For a drunk, his reflexes were fast.  

The man turned your head to look at him. His face was redder than before. It was from anger. “Not a mute after all, eh? Whatcha going around screaming for? I just wanted to have a nice little chat with ya. Why don’t we go back to my place and get t’know each other better?”  

Oh no, he’s going to drag me away somewhere! It all felt so unreal, like it was happening to someone else. Fear gripped your heart, and you did the only thing you could do in the situation—you bit down on his palm so hard that you drew blood.  

“Fuck!” the man shouted in pain and let out a string of curses. His grip loosened, allowing you to shake him off and run as fast as you could to the end of the alley, which suddenly seemed a whole other world away. You pumped your already-tired legs, pushing them to their limit, but the heavy bags in your hands slowed you down. You should throw them away, but sweat glued their straps to your palms and there was no time to stop and pull them off.   

You heard the man shouting curses and his heavy footsteps as he chased after you. He was catching up to you quickly.  

Fate must enjoy playing cruel jokes on you, for rain began to pour down heavily at that very moment.  

It got into your eyes and soaked into your clothes. The stone-paved road suddenly became hazardous. Every time your feet almost slipped on the wet stones, panic threatened to overwhelm you.   

After what seemed like a lifetime, you reached the end of the alley—only to be met with a crossroads. Which path to take? With your blurred vision, you couldn’t see the Palais Mermonia or anything at all.   

You dared to look back, and your heart nearly stopped. The man was right on your heels, his face a hideous twisted mask of rage. He lunged at you, and you managed to dodge in time. He fell forward, landing on the ground with a heavy thud. You were about to run away, but your feet twisted under you. You tripped.  

Oh, I think I twisted my ankle... Pain blossomed in your right ankle, your knee, and your palms. You tried to pull yourself up, but the man’s large hand clamped around your hurt ankle, holding you in place. His grip tightened, and you could practically hear your bones grind against each other. You gasped as white-hot pain lanced up your leg. He’s going to break it...!  

“You little bitch...you’ll pay for that!” the man growled. He was trying to drag you towards him, and you scrabbled desperately at the ground for something to hold onto, but it was no use. “Who d’you think you are, biting me ?”  

“Heard there’s some guy lookin’ to buy girls. I think I’ll sell ya to him. It’ll serve you right!” the man continued to rant and rave. He didn’t seem to feel the rain at all. There was a strange light in his eyes. Was he really drunk on alcohol? You had no idea. All you wanted to do was get away.  

“My husband knows I’m gone! He’ll come looking for me!” you shouted, but even you knew it was an empty threat. There was no way Neuvillette would know where you were right now, right?  

The rain... The image of Neuvillette standing in the rain came to mind. There was a connection between him and rain. You didn’t know what it was, but it definitely existed.   

It was an absurd, baseless idea, but you were out of options. “Neuvillette!” you screamed. “Neuvi--ah!”  

Your ankle was squeezed even harder. He really was going to snap it in two at this rate. How can anyone be so strong?  

“Shut the fuck up! Ain't no one here to help you now, not even—” he suddenly let out a scream of agony. His grip on your ankle slackened.  

You stared at the sight in front of you, feeling as though your brain skipped a few seconds ahead in time.  

Just a moment before, it was only the two of you in this alley...until it wasn’t.   

There was a heel grinding into the hand grabbing your ankle. You knew even before looking up who it belonged to.  

Neuvillette was standing above the two of you, his cane in hand. There was a wavering blue light behind him. His face was an emotionless mask, but his eyes seemed to be glowing, figuratively and literally. They were filled with a cold hatred—no, something even more primal and basic than that. It was as though he was looking down at a worm, something far beneath him.  

For the first time since you knew him, you thought he seemed completely inhuman.  

The man was whimpering in pain. He tried to heave himself up, but couldn’t. He turned to look at who was stepping on his hand and gasped. “M-Monsieur Neuvillette? W-What...how...”  

“You are under arrest, Mr. Moreau, for assault,” Neuvillette’s voice was low and deep, carrying well even in the cacophony in the rain. Like his expression, it was void of emotion, but you thought you could hear something else behind it, like a shadow lurking in the depths of the sea. “The Gardes will be here shortly. I suggest you prepare yourself.”  

The man seemed too overwhelmed to speak. All he could do was stare up at Neuvillette blankly, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. You weren’t any better yourself.  

Seeming to no longer deem the man a threat, Neuvillette immediately turned to you. The terrible look from before was gone, replaced with naked worry and relief. “Madame!” he helped you sit up, then quickly took off his coat and wrapped it around you. “Can you walk?”  

You simply stared at him, unable to speak. In the distance, you heard shouts and footsteps running over here. It was probably the Gardes.  

His question registered a few seconds later, and you shook your head. Your ankle felt as though it was on fire. You didn’t want to look at it.   

Neuvillette studied your ankle, his brow creased with worry. His fingers brushed against the skin, and you let out a yelp. “My apologies,” he said quickly, pain flashing across his features. “I shall take you to the infirmary right away.”  

The Gardes had arrived by then and became busy with arresting the man—Moreau. Neuvillette spoke a few words to them, then turned back to you. “I shall be carrying you in my arms now,” he whispered in your ear. “I’ll ask a Garde to bring your bags to the infirmary.” He hooked an arm under your knees and circled the other around your waist, lifting you and holding you close to his chest. He seemed uncaring of the fact there were others around. None of them were looking your way, though.  

“Madame, you’re safe now,” he murmured. He sounded like the Neuvillette you had always known. That, along with the gentle warmth and crisp cologne that suffused his coat wrapped around you, finally thawed your frozen emotions.  

“Neuvillette...I was so scared!” Hot tears spilled down your cheeks, and you buried your face in his wet shirt, sobbing into his chest. “If you hadn’t shown up, he would have...!  

“There is no need to say anything more,” he whispered. He was now walking away from the scene. “I am with you now. No one can harm you any longer. The emergency room is not too far away. A carriage will bring us there.”  

His hand combed through the strands of your wet hair. The motions were awkward, but they brought you a comfort sweeter than anything you had known.  

Maybe it was just your imagination, but the rain seemed to abate with every stroke of his hands.  

At the emergency room, a nurse examined your ankle and declared that while it was badly sprained, it was not broken. An ice pack and bandages were applied to it, with instructions to rest in bed the next day and to change the ice pack every few hours. Your knee and upper arm were bruised, and your palms were scraped, but other than that, you weren’t seriously injured.   

The nurse also helped you change into dry clothes. Miraculously, your newly-brought clothes were mostly unscathed from the rain, so you chose a sweater and pants. She also offered you a hot cup of coffee, which you gratefully accepted.   

Not long after that, a Garde came to question you about the incident and record the injuries you sustained. It mercifully didn’t take very long.  

“Would I have to testify in court?” you asked Neuvillette nervously after the two of you were finally left alone. He had been with you through all of this, silently sitting at your bedside and rarely leaving it. You couldn’t help but wonder what other people thought of this, but mostly you were just glad for his steady presence.  

“It may not come to that,” Neuvillette said slowly, which was not reassuring to hear. “You have given your statement, and there is enough evidence for a prompt conviction without requiring victim testimony. And with the past history of the accused...”  

He trailed off, a shadow passing over his face. “You knew that man—Moreau,” you said.  

“Yes. Mr. Moreau is a wealthy businessman with many high-ranking friends in government. I have met him at several functions, and, well...you will have to excuse me for refraining from speaking of his character due to my involvement in this case. It has long been suspected that he has been engaging in various underhanded dealings, but no concrete evidence has ever been found. But to think that he would even stoop to human trafficking...it’s simply unconscionable.”  

You wondered why a man like that would be walking around the streets drunk and attacking people. If he was so good at concealing his crimes, surely he wouldn’t do something so stupid and brazen that would get him arrested. You recalled his hideous mask of a face and the eerie light in his eyes and shivered. Neuvillette, seeing this, reached out and took your hand in his, squeezing it. You could feel his wedding ring pressing into your fingers through his glove.  

“There is no need for us to dwell on this any longer,” he murmured, rubbing circles in the back of your hand with his thumb. “Focus on recovery. If there is anything that is required of you, you will be given ample notice beforehand.”  

You stared into his eyes. You would never admit this to anyone, but you enjoyed looking at them. They were the most expressive part of his face—which wasn’t saying very much—and you thought you had become rather good at grasping the emotions flickering behind them, like trying to catch a slippery fish in a pond. Right now, you would say that there was a mix of lingering panic and an earnest desire to make you feel better.  

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling tears well up in your eyes again. Neuvillette took out another handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to you. You dabbed your eyes.   

“I only wish that I had gotten there sooner,” he said, and you could feel the regret and anger at himself rolling off him like waves. “So that I could spare you from having to go through something so traumatic.”  

“Don’t blame yourself. It was all my fault. If only I hadn’t gotten distracted by books and lost track of time, if only I had familiarized myself with the roads more, none of this would have happened. I made you worry about me. It’s what I deserve.” You had recounted everything that happened to him while riding in the carriage. He must think I’m an idiot who can’t even take care of herself, you looked down in shame.   

“Madame, please look at me,” Gentle fingers tilted your chin up, his lavender eyes transfixing you. “None of this is your fault, not a single bit of it. A bit of absentmindedness does not deserve punishment. The only party in the wrong here has been taken into custody and will receive a fitting sentence for his crimes.”  

“...Mm,” you managed to nod. His face was very close to yours. From this distance, you could see every single one of his long eyelashes in stark detail. For some reason, your heart started beating faster again.  

“So...how did you find me?” you moved away from him a little, though you left your hand in his. “I did tell Marie that I was going to the shopping district, but I don’t think I was anywhere near there by the time you found me.”  

“Marie told me where you went when I returned home in the early evening. When you didn’t return home by dinner time, we became worried, so I went out in search of you and asked the Gardes to assist. Then, I heard you screaming my name and followed it.”  

“Hmm...I see,” it felt like he cut out some important details out of that explanation, but he was clearly not about to divulge his secrets. “The sudden heavy rain must have made it quite difficult,” you said, glancing at him.  

“For the others, perhaps. But it was hardly a hurdle for me.”  

A short silence followed. You wanted to push him for answers a little more, but sensed his discomfort and decided to drop it.  

“You know, we’ve known each other for some time now, but this is the first time I’ve seen you with your cane up close,” you said. “Actually, this was the very first time I’ve seen you so angry. I hope it's never directed at me.”   

The memory of Neuvillette’s look of fury flashed through your mind again. That blue light you saw behind him must have been his glowing horns. It reminded you that he was, in actuality, an unfathomably powerful being.  He could have done much worse to Moreau than merely stepping on his hand.   

“My apologies. Did I scare you?” a small furrow appeared between Neuvillette’s brows, the corners of his lips turning downwards slightly. It was such a contrast from that previous expression that you almost felt like laughing. “I am often unaware as to how my face might appear to others. It is something I try to work on outside of court. Although, I must admit, I was not thinking very amicable thoughts at the time. It might have shown on my face.”  

You mulled his question over. Were you scared of him back then? To be quite honest, your mind was already preoccupied with fear by the time he arrived—there simply wasn’t enough room for more. Yes, you certainly had been shocked at first, but…  

Even if his eyes and horns (that was his horns, wasn’t it?) were glowing, it was still Neuvillette.  

“You should have been even more terrifying,” you told him sincerely. “If you ever do something like this again, you should show up riding on the back of a vishap.”  

He stared at you in bafflement for a few seconds, then turned his head away, but you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips.  

Mentally and physically exhausted by last night’s events, you slept like a log until noon. When you woke up, you were greeted with a platter of all your favorite dishes.  

With the new day and the cozy familiarity of your room, the events of last night seemed like they happened a lifetime ago. The fear had mostly subsided, leaving mortification and regret in its wake, especially as everyone was acting so considerate towards you. Looking back, you had no idea what you were thinking, and you realized once again just how lucky you had been.   

Your ankle’s swelling had gone down considerably the next day, but it still hurt whenever you put even the slightest bit of pressure on it, so you spent most of the day in bed, reading books, drawing, or staring out the window at the gray sky. You weren’t without company, though, as Marie sat with you in your room often, changing the ice pack and helping you put away your newly bought clothes in your closet. She had been horrified when you came home last night in Neuvillette’s arms. “How awful, Madame!” she had lamented as she helped you get to your room and change into your nightgown. “Thank the Archons that Monsieur Neuvillette arrived on time!”  

Marie wasn’t the only visitor to your room. The Melusines, including those who hadn’t gone shopping with you, also came to see you throughout the day. You supposed that Neuvillette told them about you, for they all brought you cakes and other desserts as get-well presents (you also suspected that they also reported back to Neuvillette about your condition, for when you mentioned to one Melusine how you would like to drink some Fonta, your wish was granted by the next Melusine who visited. However, she also heartily recommended that you drink water from Snezhnaya instead, which held a coolness that was good against swelling, and if you wanted, you could ask Marie to fetch a bottle of it for you from Monsieur Neuvillette’s personal stash. She also added that you need not hesitate to ask, as he had more than one bottle. Perhaps all Melusines shared his specific tastes in water, but you didn’t quite believe that was the case).  

Rhemia and the other Melusines who had been with you yesterday had been the most distressed upon seeing you bedridden. “I’ll stick to you like glue from now on, Madame! No criminal will escape my sights!” Rhemia had declared, and her sisters nodded vigorously in agreement.  

“There really is no need for that,” you tried to decline her offer. Privately, you thought that there wasn’t much a Melusine could do against a man of Moreau’s size anyways. “The whole incident only happened because I was careless and in the wrong place at the wrong time. I’ll be much more careful next time, so I doubt it will happen again. Just because I’m Neuvillette’s wife, it doesn’t mean that I deserve special treatment or anything of the sort. And if he put you up to this, then—”  

Rhemia blinked at you in confusion. “But this has nothing to do with Monsieur Neuvillette. Not entirely, anyways.”  

“It doesn’t?” Now you were confused.  

“Nope! I’d do this for all the people important to me! Oh, but I guess you’re more than that, since you’re married to Monsieur Neuvillette! That would make you our mother, I suppose.”  

“Um…” There was the m-word again. You considered correcting Rhemia, but she continued, seemingly not noticing your discomfort.  

“You’re always so kind and patient with us, just like Monsieur Neuvillette. You greet us whenever you see us, and you always ask us about our days and listen to our troubles. Oh, and Madame, you’re such a good teacher too! I’ve gotten so much better at drawing humans thanks to your lessons!” Rhemia turned to her friends. “Am I right?”  

Her friends nodded enthusiastically. They began recounting all the times you’ve spent with them.   

“I’m glad to hear that you all think of me as your friend,” you said after they finished, a little embarrassed but also pleased. You hadn’t expected them to remember so much about you. But you felt a little guilty as well. At first, you decided to become friendly with the Melusines because everyone knew that Neuvillette treasured them greatly and you wanted to be in his good graces so that he wouldn’t have any reason to kick you out. They had always been the ones to come up to you first, especially in the first few weeks after your marriage, and while you didn’t consider yourself to be a particularly friendly and warm person, even you weren’t heartless enough to be cold to such a cheerful race of creatures.   

“It’s not just us! I’m sure all the Melusines in the Court of Fontaine feel the same way. You’re just as important to us as Monsieur Neuvillette.”  

“Oh…” Looking at their bright, earnest faces, you didn’t know what to say. Your eyes suddenly became misty. Before this marriage, you hadn’t given much mind to Melusines. They were just the public servants you would occasionally pass by on the street. But now that you were connected to them through Neuvillette, you were belatedly learning just how wonderful they were.  

“Thank you,” you said at last, patting each of them on the head. Your hand still stung a little from last night, but you ignored it. “It means a lot to me that you think so highly of me. Truly. Still, you don’t need to follow me around. If I ever need help, I promise that I will come straight to you. And…I hope that you will all come to the sunflower viewing party we’re holding here next month.”  

“Of course, Madame! We wouldn’t miss it for anything!” the Melusines chirped in unison.  

By evening, the deluge of visitors had finally ended. You sank into your pillows, feeling exhausted. You weren’t used to having so many people fuss over you. It was unfamiliar territory, one that you weren’t quite sure how to navigate.   

Still, as you gazed at the teetering pile of confectionary boxes covered in Melusine stickers on your bedside table and remembered all the get-well wishes you received, a rush of warmth flooded your heart. How did I get so lucky? You wondered. Perhaps even after I leave Neuvillette, we can still be friends…  

As you were lost in your thoughts, Marie came into your room again.   

“Oh, Madame, I completely forgot to give you this because of everything that happened yesterday. It appears to be from your family.”  

Marie handed you an envelope made of thick, creamy paper. You recognized the stationery as the kind used by your father for formal correspondences, and the address written in familiar, flowery cursive on the front was indeed that of your family’s house.  

“Ah, that would be from my sister,” you said, tearing the envelope open and taking out the contents. The envelope contained two cards made of similarly thick paper. They both had an elaborately drawn border of Lumidouce Bells and Rainbow Roses and had an invitation written in the center. This was new.  

You are cordially invited   

To a celebration  

Honoring  

Justine’s nineteenth birthday  

Semi-formal attire requested (Floral themed outfits are preferred)  

P.S. Sister, please tell me if Monsieur Neuvillette has any allergies or requires any accommodations!  

“Oh no…” you groaned, putting your palm over your face. “I still haven’t gotten her a present yet!”  

You had planned to get something for her yesterday after you finished shopping for yourself, but meeting up with Rhemia and the others caused it to completely slip your mind.  

While we’re on this topic, shouldn’t she have sent the invitations much earlier if she wanted people to RSVP? It’s just like her to do things last minute! And why is she acting like it’s already decided that Neuvillette’s coming?  

“Marie, could you please fetch me my pen and paper?” you asked the housekeeper. After you received them, you began to write a reply to tell Justine that while you were coming, Neuvillette definitely wasn’t. But just as you got to that last part, you paused. The idea of the Chief Justice attending a teenage girl’s birthday party all the way out in the countryside was absurd, of course. You tried to picture him sitting at your family’s worn dining table, singing “Happy Birthday” eating the butterscotch cake your housekeeper always made for birthdays, all the while fending off the barrage of questions from your family and friends. I can’t imagine it! It’s just too ridiculous.  

It would be better if he didn’t have too much contact with your family, in order to avoid them asking too many questions, and to make the eventual divorce go smoothly.  

He rarely even attended the far more glamorous functions of high society, so something like this would be out of the question. His answer would go without asking.   

Or would it?  

You didn’t really know why you were entertaining the idea. Perhaps being with Neuvillette these past few months had greatly inflated your sense of self-importance—but then again, you thought that the two of you had gotten close enough where asking him wouldn’t be so preposterous. You were friends, and wouldn’t it be ruder to not at least extend an invitation to a friend? Wasn’t the act of asking in itself greatly appreciated?   

And…there was a little part of you that would like to show him around your hometown. It was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, and all you could see for miles around were fields of wildflowers and mountains—a common sight in Fontaine—but there were a few spots that you had fond memories of. Since Neuvillette showed you his favorite places, it was only right to repay the favor, even if none of your favorite spots were as exciting as the giant willow tree or Merusea Village.  

Recent events, including the latest incident, had taught you the folly of making assumptions, even for seemingly inconsequential things like this. Just because you thought   

The worst thing he could say is no, you reasoned to yourself. And it’s not the end of the world if he does. Sure, Justine will be disappointed, but everyone knows how busy and reclusive Neuvillette is, so she’ll understand if he declines.  

As if on cue, you heard the front door open downstairs. Neuvillette had returned home. After a brief conversation with Marie, the sound of his heels briskly ascending the stairs and heading in the direction of your room until it stopped in front of your door. There was a soft knock.  

“Madame, may I come in?”  

“Yes,” you called out, and Neuvillette opened the door and stepped inside your room. He was about to close the door behind him, but then he looked at you. A thought seemed to cross his mind, and he left the door ajar.  

Um, why is he just standing there? You stared at him, confused when he didn’t take a seat right away. He simply stood there stiffly, his gaze a mixture of worry, uncertainty, and something else. For a second, you wondered if he was that caught off guard by your disheveled appearance that was a result of staying in bed all day. It took you a minute to realize that he was waiting for you to ask him to sit down. Really, this man… I thought we’re past such formalities.  

“You can pull up a chair,” you said, nodding towards the cushioned chairs in the center of the room. He complied, clasping his hands in his lap after settling in his seat and leaning towards you slightly. He stared at you intently, as if afraid that you would disappear before his eyes. You squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of the fact that you were wearing only your rumpled nightgown and that you were lying in bed. You surreptitiously pulled your covers up to your chest.   

Come to think of it, this is the first time I’ve ever had a man who isn’t my father in my room, you mused, though you were also aware that this wasn’t really the occasion to think about such things. Well, I guess it technically isn’t the first time, but this is very different.  

Thankfully, Neuvillette broke the silence and (once again) prevented your thoughts from going down a potentially thorny path.  

“How are you feeling, Madame? Regrettably, I was not able to take some time off to come and see you.”  

“There’s no need for that. Marie took very good care of me, and I got plenty of visitors today,” you indicated the tower of cake boxes on your bedside table.   

Neuvillette nodded, his face softening slightly. “We should postpone the meeting with Furina.”  

“No,” you said quickly, putting your hand on his. “The sooner we get this over with, the better. I’ll drag myself up the steps of the Palais if I have to.”  

Neuvillette looked like he wanted to argue, but he swallowed back whatever he was going to say. “There’s no need for that,” he said at last. “I would be happy to carry you into my office, if you should ask.”  

“Carry me into your office?” you repeated incredulously. Was he serious? But by now, you already knew the answer to that question.  

You leaned back against your pillow with a smile. You sometimes wondered if Neuvillette realized how unintentionally funny he could be. “Wouldn’t that give people the wrong idea?”  

“You do have a point. Then, I propose that we arrive at my office early in the morning, before the Palais employees come into work.”  

“How about instead of carrying me, I borrow your cane?”  

Neuvillette seemed to be pondering your words seriously. “But that would also run into the problem of rousing people’s suspicions. Someone might wonder why my cane is in your possession.”  

You turned your head away to smother your laugh.  

“It seems that the Melusines have made their visits,” Neuvillette said, looking at the tower of boxes on your bedside table.  

“Yes, they were all very sweet. Although, I’m not sure how they expect me to eat all these…” You liked dessert and all, but not to this extent. Perhaps you could bring some of them back home with you to share with your family and friends.   

“Clorinde also asked me to pass on her well wishes to you. She was very sorry to hear what happened.”  

“I see. Please thank her for me, and tell her not to blame herself for my foolishness.”  

“I will do that,” Neuvillette nodded, then was silent for a moment. His solemn gaze as he looked at you made it seem like you were diagnosed with some terminal illness rather than merely spraining your ankle badly and hitting your knee against the ground.   

“Neuvillette?” you called out his name in hopes of getting rid of that grave look in his eyes. It made your chest feel heavy.   

“Ah, by the way, I consulted with a friend of mine about your injury. She made this drink for you,” Neuvillette manifested a green, ridiculously adorable cup from out of nowhere. It reminded you of the bulky and colorful cups toddlers drank juice out of. “She says that it will help your body recover quicker.”  

“A friend of yours?” you repeated, your interest piqued. While Neuvillette would happily talk to you about the Melusines for hours on end and occasionally talk about his (human) acquaintances, you had never heard him call anyone his friend before.   

“Yes. She is the head nurse the Fortress of Meropide’s infirmary, and one of the kindest and most considerate people I know. I hope the two of you can meet one day.”  

“That’s high praise coming from you,” you said, making a mental note of this mysterious friend. “Why don’t we invite her to the sunflower viewing as well?”  

“What a wonderful idea. I shall do just that,” he said, then held out the cup to you. “Now, Madame, you should drink this.”  

“Alright,” you took a sip of the drink and nearly spat it out. “Bleakness” was the only way to describe the taste. It almost made you want to get out of bed and walk so that the pain could distract you from the torture of your tastebuds. For a heartbeat, you wondered if Neuvillette was trying to poison you. “A-Are you sure this is h-healthy?”  

“Of course,” Neuvillette said, looking baffled by your question. “I’ve drank it on numerous occasions, and I’ve always found myself quite refreshed and invigorated afterward. I asked Sigewinne to make it taste more palatable for you, as I’m aware that her concoctions are not for everyone. She truly hopes it makes you feel better.”  

This is palatable? You thought. Did I do something to this Sigewinne person? Whoever she was, she shared the same incomprehensible sense of taste as Neuvillette.  

Speaking of Neuvillette, he was looking at you expectantly. Oh Archons, is he expecting me to finish it in front of him? Just as you were trying to come up with an excuse to not drink it, those efforts were dashed by his next words. “Is it not to your liking?” he said quietly. You were vaguely aware that it had started raining outside.   

“I…um…” you didn’t know what to say or where to look. You suddenly had the impression that a large puppy was at your bedside, staring at you with sad eyes. Gah, he must be doing this on purpose! Either that, or he must really be fond of that friend of his. “Well, when it comes to medicine, it’s not really a matter of liking it or not liking it, right? A-And since you’ve gone to the trouble of asking your friend to make this for me, it would be rude of me to not drink it, right?” You sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.  

“If you do not like it, then you do not need to force yourself—”  

“No, no, I mean, I’ve taken plenty of bitter medicine when I was little, and I survived. This will be no different,” you brought the straw up to your mouth and held your breath. Let’s just get this over quickly, you thought, then emptied the cup in one go. Fortunately, there wasn’t much to drink. However, the lumpy texture was still a struggle to swallow. You felt as though you had just eaten concrete.   

“That was…certainly something I’ve never drank before,” you managed, flopping back onto your pillows to recover. You opened a box of lemon tarts and shoved one into your mouth to get rid of the taste. Honestly, you wanted to drink some Fonta instead, but decided that it might be a bit uncouth. Of course, some might say that it was unladylike to eat cake in bed in the first place, but you doubted those people ever had the misfortune of having to drink that so-called “healthy drink.” “Please thank your friend for me.”  

Neuvillette nodded, watching you as you ate a second, then a third tart. Lemon wasn’t your favorite flavor, but anything would do right now. You offered one to him, but he politely declined. His gaze dropped to the papers in your lap. “…Were you writing a letter to someone?” he asked.   

“Oh!” you had almost forgotten about that. “My sister Justine sent us invitations to her birthday party. It’s a bit short notice, but it’s in a few days.”  

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard you mention it before,” Neuvillette took a pause, as if he had only just taken in the entirety of your words. “Did you say ‘invitations’?”  

“Yes,” you nodded. Your hands suddenly felt sweaty. What were you so nervous about? “Since we’re, you know, husband and wife, it’s only natural that invitations would be sent to the both of us. Funny thing is, Justine thinks you’re already coming and has asked me if you require any accommodations, but, obviously, you haven’t given any answer as to whether or not you’ll be attending the party. I-I know that you usually don’t attend public functions, but birthday parties in our party don’t tend to be very extravagant affairs. It’s usually just a small gathering of close friends and relatives. We can even make everyone sign a contract of confidentiality, if you want. You don’t have to bring any gifts either. I think your presence will be a gift in itself for my sister, haha…”  

Oh no, I’m rambling again…why do I keep doing this? It’s a simple question! You toyed with the edge of your comforter, suddenly too nervous to look at his expression. Would there be a look of disgust there? Why would there be? Your brain argued back. You haven’t asked anything offensive!  

Finally, you dared to sneak a peek. He was staring at your face, as though scrutinizing it for answers to a difficult question.   

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” you said, thinking that he must be trying to find a way to let you down gently.   

“…Do you want me to attend?” he said at last.   

You hadn’t expected that question. “What do you mean?” you frowned.  

“What I mean is…would it please you—would it make you happy if I attended your sister’s party?”  

The question threw you off guard. You didn’t know what he meant by it. What did it matter what you thought?  

“Well, it’s not my party, so my opinion doesn’t matter,” you said slowly. “My sister will certainly be overjoyed if you attended.”  

“But your opinion does matter quite a lot to me,” Neuvillette said. He was oddly insistent about this.  

Oh, I get it. He doesn’t want to come, but doesn’t want to offend, you thought.  

“If you want to come, then come. If you don’t, then don’t,” Realizing that your words might sound too harsh, you softened your tone. “It’s okay to say no. I won’t hold it against you. I’m sure my sister and everyone else will understand.”  

Neuvillette stared at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes. You could hear the rain pounding against your window, and you turned your head to it. The sky was a dark, leaden gray. It’s been raining pretty frequently these days, hasn’t it? You thought distantly.  

“Unfortunately, I have a trial to oversee on that day,” he said. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him clench and unclench his fists. You wondered why he didn’t mention the trial earlier. “I do not think it would be wise for me to attend, in any case. It would be a needless distraction.”  

“Alright then. I’ll tell my sister you can’t attend,” you said lightly, then turned your attention to your unfinished letter. You picked up your pen and began to write. Focusing your mind on producing the words helped distract from the tumult of emotions within you—emotions that you didn’t know quite what to make of. Was it relief you felt, or disappointment? Relief for what? Disappointment about what? Were you seriously expecting him to say “yes”? That made no sense at all. In fact, it would have been stranger if he had agreed to attend.   

It was better to keep expectations low. That way, it wouldn’t feel so terrible when they were inevitably let down.   

In any case, it’s over and done with, you told yourself firmly, signing the letter with a flourish. Maybe too big of a flourish. I’ll post this first thing in the morning—that is, if I can walk by then.  

You glanced up to see Neuvillette still sitting there. He was drinking from his cup, but he was watching you over the rim. You had long gotten used to him studying you like you were some kind of strange specimen, but it was still awkward, especially in this silence. Your room, which had always felt needlessly spacious to you, suddenly felt very small.  

Just as you were debating whether or not to fake a sleepy yawn and ask him to leave, he spoke again.  

“You haven’t yet bought a birthday present for your sister, yes?”  

“Uh-huh?” you replied, wondering what he was getting at.   

“I won’t have any time tomorrow, but I do have an hour or two to spare after our meeting with Furina. We shall go pick out a present together then.”  

You gaped at him. “Together?”  

“Is there something wrong with that? It is customary for married couples to give presents as a pair, is it not? Since I cannot attend the party, allow me to make it up to your sister with a birthday present.”  

“…If you insist,” you said, since he seemed so adamant. Neuvillette was so hard to grasp sometimes. Sometimes, he was clear as a fresh water spring. Other times, like now, you had the sense that you were staring into the sea, unable to see all the way to its bottom. “She’d be happy about that.”  

“Then it is settled,” he said with a note of satisfaction in his voice, then leaned forward and cupped your cheek. It happened so quickly that you didn’t even have a chance to react. “W-Wha…” was all you could manage to stammer out. There was only a millimeter of space between your faces. Your heart sped up a little when his gaze moved to your lips. His thumb moved to the corner of your lip and brushed against it. It took you a moment to realize that he had flicked off a cake crumb.  

"That has been bothering me for a while,” he murmured, removing his hand from your cheek. Despite that, you could still feel the smooth silk of his glove and the press of his long fingers against your skin. “I will take my leave now. Please rest and get well soon, Madame.”  

“I-I will,” you nodded, suddenly feeling shy. You took a box of Conch Madeleines from your bedside table and handed them to him. “Please take this. It’ll take me a year to finish all these desserts anyways. There’s a little packet of whipped cream included, so if it’s too dry for you...”  

“Thank you,” he took the box from you, then stared into your eyes for a moment longer before turning on his heel and leaving your room. It was only when you heard his footsteps recede to the other side of the house that you realized that it was no longer raining.   

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[artsyannierose]

Nene’s Dead Corpse and her ghost bf

randomly made a crap ton more sense to me

why?

fricking school (screw school I hate you (no not rly I’m just stressed))

Anyway I’m a biomed class where unit 1 is studying medical investigations forensic science style

and one of the things is like, what happens to a person after the body has been dead for a while (post mortem or sum, see im learning :D)

Things like algor mortis, livor mortis, I’ve heard of. In fact I’ve even studied the clouding of the corneas before, but it never got to me till today

maybe it’s cause I cannot for the life of me study forensics without my wild imagination giving me nightmares or just panicking when I’m alone but aNyWays

I tend to imagine characters associated with death in these scenarios so I don’t lose it in class💀

*cough* Nene *cough cough*

So as I was taking notes on the slideshow, some of the images of clouded corneas reminded me strangely of something familiar, but at that point I couldn’t tell. There’s something haunting about the eyes (or maybe it’s just my over-analytical brain loving small details like this) they’re GORGEOUS

LIKE

IDK THEYRE PRETTY

Maybe it’s ‘cause the true color of the iris is completely visible in all its glory, without the pupil obscuring it

(something like this?? A little vivid tho lol)

but like

there’s no

life

no reflection, no emotion…nothing (which is so hauntingly beautiful leave me alone I’m a sucker for this now)

it’s literally just an eye with nothing but color

and then it hit me…it’s exactly the look Nene had when Mirai fast-forwarded her time

you can see in the image it’s just her plain magenta eyes with a fuzzy de-saturated blob in the center…aka clouded corneas

And that honestly made me realize that in this scene she’s not—she’s not even unconscious

No she’s literally, physiologically dead

THAT IS A CORPSE HE IS HOLDING

she is literally a dead body this hits me so hard😭😭

and I can imagine algor mortis kicked in by then, her body was probably cold to the touch

so imagine how he felt, and I’m aware people have analyzed his emotions but just think about it

he’s always seen her so full of life and hope, and now all he has left is an empty shell of her, cold and dead with no life left inside

…just like him

the more I think about it Hanako is just an animated corpse

he has no reflection in his eyes most of the time because he is ✨dead✨

I mean Mei, Mitsuba, and Hanako don’t have a little white reflection dot like Nene and Kou

Or maybe I’m overthinking it and Nene’s eyes are just super reflective

even for someone who presumably took his own life, he probably never saw tsukasa’s body start postmortem and actually feel dead bc it looked extremely bloody ngl (I’m guessing he killed himself right after 💔)

and now he’s holding someone he cares about like this for the first time and I’ll bet that scarred him

and he figured out that never, never ever did he ever want to see his sweet assistant like this again, lifeless in his arms

and so after that, cue Hanako in his villain era who basically became a yandere the entire picture perfect lmao

and he was unbelievably adamant about it too

I mean honestly if I held anybody I knew lifeless like that I’d be scarred for life and crying for days

seeing the light drained from someone’s eyes is so interestingly sad to me

Look at the difference:

Happy

vs Sad/Determined

vs Depressed (ig??)

vs Dead

She still has so much emotion in her eyes

and then d e a d

literally looks like a porcelain doll

wait she looks so pale in the last image compared to the others now that I think about it

I love aidairo’s eye for detail it’s so fun to figure out

Well anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk essay atp-

IT’S PAST 1 AM AND I SHOULD BE STUDYING FOR SAID BIOMED CLASS AND HERE I AN GOING ON A TANGENT ABOUT A FICTIONAL CHARACTER’S EYES

send help

anyways excuse me while I grab a box of strawberries to munch on and cry my eyes out all over my homework before I sleep-

[turkeycalamitybff]

on my stranger things bullshit again anyway

Holly being a major character this time???? I’ve got SO many things to say about that. Because she’s been foreshadowed to understand more than she’s letting on this ENTIRE TIME. Like I’ve seen no one talk about this but Holly def knows more than she’s letting on. And we’ve been shown that for so long. Look at season three episode seven “The Bite” around 2:50. When the other Wheelers are on the Ferris wheel Holly sees the trees moving, (the mindflayer) and comments on it. Like!!!! She has been in so many background scenes commenting to Karen about things from the upside down. And in season one she is the first one to see the “messages” from Will and the pressing on the wall. Will and Holly are TOTALLY connected. I was genuinely confused when she didn’t get a bigger role in season four but now it makes sense.

Will is what started the series but Holly will end it. And the Duffers legit said that they were paralleling season one (going back to those groups) so wouldn’t it make sense for ANOTHER CHILD CONNECTED TO MIKE WHEELER (who has been intimately connected to the plot each season I feel like) to go missing??? This is the WHEELERS season and no one can convince me otherwise. It’s all about learning that it’s good to be different. It’s about the WHEELER family learning that.

and it helps Karen get involved! Because in all the scenes Holly shows Karen something she could’ve just seen it herself. Holly was, objectively, a character that didn’t have to exist before now. But she does BECAUSE SHE IS CONNECTED TO THE UPSIDE DOWN. My guess is that she is heavily paralleled to Will this season (the title of chapter two one of the biggest examples) and is going to be the main catalyst and I for one am HERE FOR IT.

Will is the main character this season but the Wheelers are the ones who create the plot.

in general the Wheelers have always seemed to be huge. When the Cali gang gets back it would make sense for El to be at the front, correct? Or will? But no, Mike the one “leading the charge” it looks like. He really is the heart. When his sister goes missing?? Oh it’s over for Vecna.

also manifesting a scene after Holly goes missing for Mike to have a mental breakdown about the similarities to when Will was missing and Wills like so confused??? Like Dustin and Lucas see it too and they tell Will about how insane he went and Wills just. Shocked.

also manifesting a scene for the party (or everyone) where they find out what happened at the quarry with Troy in season one bc that was so built up? (Scene where hopper says that for someone to jump off was a death sentence) and then NOTHING happened and I need it to be addressed. Like maybe something similar happens and Dustin comments on it, and everyone finds out?? Just in general I can see how losing his younger sister could lead to Mike nearly committing suicide (that boy is SO depressed, Jesus) also I know this probably actually means nothing but I’ve always thought Holly was getting a bigger role since I saw the episode title “Holly, Jolly” like idk? It always seemed so weird to me and I always thought “oh hollys going to get bigger” and she never did? Also idk the episode title is just plain weird. Like I understand it’s like a play on the Christmas lights and ironic cause no one is happy but what always gets me is the comma. Like I would’ve thought they would’ve named it “Holly Jolly” which in my opinion makes more sense and is more continuos. Plus it wouldn’t bring Holly to mind as much and wouldn’t foreshadow her being part of it. BUT MAYBE they are going to parallel that episode and I won’t be crazy but who knows even. This last paragraph is me ranting.

tl;dr Holly and the Wheelers have been foreshadowed since season one to play a bigger role and to be connected to the upside down and we’re gonna see it in st 5.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

In Plain Sight: Fresh Starts

Summary: The reader and Crew have been living with her parents temporarily while they decide where to live. But Crew may enjoy the convenience of having family close by more than she anticipated...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x daughter!reader (with lots of daughter!reader x OMC)

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Enjoy!

______

“And up!” Laughed Crew as he tossed your little brother up into the air, Zeppelin laughing loudly as Crew caught him in his arms.

“Again!” he pleaded, Crew doing it once more. “Again, Crew!”

“Sorry little bro but it’s time for bed,” he said, Zepp whining when Crew settled him in his hip. “Come on. I let you stay up late if you promised to go to bed when I said so.”

“Fine,” he groaned, Crew chuckling as he gave you a wave and carried him upstairs. You were still grinning on the couch when he returned ten minutes later.

“What’s that look for, kid?” asked Crew as he plopped down next to you, throwing his arm over your shoulders. You only smirked and pushed him to lay flat on his back, Crew’s eyes darkening when you straddled his hips. 

“I love watching you with my siblings. You’re so good with them,” you murmured, leaning down to kiss him.

“My siblings too,” he whispered, closing his eyes when you gripped his hands, pushing them back by either side of his head. “If that’s okay.”

“My silly boy,” you whispered, kissing under his jaw and near his ear just where he liked it. “What’d I tell you about asking dumb questions?”

“I’m a work in progress,” he grunted out, chuckling lightly. “Don’t be all sweet when you’re on top of me.”

“But it turns me on seeing you all happy and loved by your family,” you teased. You gave his hands a squeeze, rocking your hips down against him.

“Ugh. Fine,” he groaned, snapping his hips up when you ground your knee against him. He whimpered when you did it again. And again. “Fuck Y/N.”

You had your tongue halfway down his throat when you heard another throat clear. Your eyes darted upwards and were met with a pair of smirks.

“That’s my girl,” said your dad with a chuckle as you practically jumped backwards off of Crew. 

“Excuse me but that is my girl,” said your mom. Crew  sat up with his back to them, staring at you with pleading eyes. “Crew, sweetie. Relax. I’d be more concerned if you two weren’t trying to get frisky.”

“Thank you, mother. Honey,” you said, shoving a throw pillow over his crotch and grabbing his hand, dragging the two of you down to your room.

“Make smart choices!” teased your dad.

“We so need our own place again,” you sighed, locking the door shut after the two of you. Crew plopped back in the bed with a tired grin. “What?”

“I’ve kinda liked being here the past month. Your side of the house is pretty private to be fair.” You shrugged, reaching behind yourself to take off your bra, climbing into bed beside him. 

“Yeah but in our own place, I can walk around without a bra on which is a benefit for the both of us,” you said, rolling onto your side. You propped your head up against your hand, Crew smirking as he glanced down at your shirt. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Yes,” he said, trailing a finger over the thin cotton of your shirt. “But isn’t it nice to be around people too?”

You watched him trace his finger down further, stopping at the hem of your shirt, tickling the patch of exposed skin.

“Babe. We’re married. I liked when we had our thing. You and me, figuring it all out.” He frowned, pulling back his hand. He had his head turned towards you, eyes glancing downwards, away from your own. “Crew. This is supposed to be temporary while we figure out where we want to live.”

“I know,” he sighed. “I just…”

“I know, babe,” you whispered, inching closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I promise no matter where we go, whether that’s the same city as them or not, you’re not losing them. You’ll always have them.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead. “I do like when you don’t wear a bra though.”

“See? Lot of perks of us having our own place,” you chuckled. “So want to try house hunting again tomorrow?”

“Yeah. By the time we get something lined up it’ll be awhile anyways,” he said, sliding his hand down to your hip. “In the meantime, I can think of a few ways to keep you thoroughly entertained.”

“I bet you can.”

One Week Later

“Relax,” you said to Crew, rubbing his back at the dinner table. You were having a late night drink with your parents and you could tell Crew was having second thoughts about telling them where you’d decided to move.

“We did have one more bottle of that red you like, sweetie,” said your mom, carrying it into the room, cracking it open and pouring a few glasses.

“Thanks,” you said, your dad re-entering with a glass of bourbon in hand. “So we’ve decided on our living situation.”

“Oh you have?” asked your mom. “There’s no rush guys.”

Your dad cleared his throat, giving her a look which surprised you. You’d never gotten a vibe that he had a problem with you and Crew staying there.

“Well there is a slight rush,” said your dad, your parents sharing a look. “Now’s as good a time as any. Mom and I have decided for several reasons that we too would like to move. I want to be somewhere closer to work and these days that means near Toronto for the new show I just signed onto.”

“So the northeast?” you asked, Crew giving you a surprised look. You’d chosen downstate New York as it was close to the city for Crew to get any flight he needed or do work and you had plenty of career opportunities with the business there. Plus he was close to Canada for any work he got there which was just as likely a place as any these days.

“Yeah. Everyone loves seeing real seasons and we think it’ll be a good change. Mom and I have lived in the middle of the country and the west coast so we want to give the east a chance. We’ve been working with a realtor and are going to head out this weekend to view some places if you guys wouldn’t mind watching the gremlins.”

“Of course not,” said Crew, sitting up in his chair. “Where uh, specifically in the northeast?”

They shared a look and smiled. “Not too far from Uncle Jeff and Aunt Hilarie. Same town, maybe a five minute drive. We love it out there whenever we go-”

Crew was beaming, your dad staring at him like he was nuts. “Uh. Crew? What’s going on buddy?”

“That’s where we want to move! Well, close enough, maybe like twenty minutes away, but that’s where we picked cause I have that movie in New York and Y/N has countless options for work,” said Crew, your parents giving you a big smile. 

“You guys are really…” trailed off your mom as you nodded. She shrieked and popped out of her seat, rushing over to hug you.

“That’s amazing,” said your dad, giving Crew a hug and then you. “We had a plan to convince you guys to come to the east coast and everything so you’d at least be close.”

“Well, we may want to crash with you guys until we find our own place,” you said, glancing at Crew. “If that’s cool.”

“Of course,” said your mom. “We’ll figure it all out. Promise.” 

One Month Later

“Oh there’s a little creek behind the house too,” said Crew as you settled in for dinner at your parents' new place in New York. While they’d been busy with moving, you and Crew had focused on trying to find a place of your own nearby. They had a bit more land and open space than either of you were looking for which meant your home search was on the other side of town. But a fifteen minute drive was more than okay with Crew if that meant you got a view of the valley.

“You’ll have to send us the listing,” said your mom, dishing up some food onto your siblings plates. “You guys sure you don’t want to look at the options over here? Our realtor found some really nice places that were smaller. Perfect for just you two.”

“Eh, maybe. I have to be gone for about a month soon and there’s more houses around that side of town. I don’t want Y/N to have to be alone in a big house by herself,” he said. Your dad leaned over to your mom, whispering something in her ear that had her nodding.

“You know the property here is pretty big…we could sell you guys off a parcel of land over the hill…let you build so you’re close but not too close. Y/N’s going to be alone quiet a bit unless she comes with you on projects and once kids come into the picture, that’ll get harder. We know from experience,” said your dad. 

“We need to talk about it. That would definitely mean staying here a bit longer,” you said, Crew shrugging.

“Is that such a terrible thing?” he asked as Zepp shook his shoulder. He smiled and helped your brother cut up his chicken, quickly getting pulled into doing it for Arrow too.

“We’ll look at the land tomorrow,” you said, shoving some food into your mouth. “Oh, I got a job lined up by the way. At least to do promotional work.”

“Oh really? Already in the city?” asked your mom as everyone started to dive into their meals.

“Toronto. It’s only one week,” said Crew, nudging your shoulder. “You didn’t tell them?”

They raised their eyebrows and you smiled. “It’s uh, for a showrunner dad is friends with. I don’t have details but-”

“It’s for my new show,” sighed your dad. “I told him you want to work jobs in the city, not another country.”

“It’s right there,” scoffed Crew. “And it’s only for the promo. It’ll give Y/N and me a chance to see how we do long distance in the short term so we know how to make things work in the future when they get messier.”

“Don’t have good points, child,” said your dad, pointing his fork at Crew. Crew only beamed though, your dad shaking his head. “Alright, alright. You guys have a plan it sounds like. I assume you’re crashing with me then?”

“If my loving father doesn’t mind?” you asked, putting on your best puppy-dog look. He rolled his eyes, your mom tsking him.

“I got a one bedroom lined up already. Don’t complain about sleeping on a pull out couch,” he said, taking an extra large bite of salad. “I was never naked on Supernatural. Why couldn’t you work on that show? First the show with bedroom scenes galore and then this? I swear I’m cursed.”

“Maybe you just like taking your shirt off,” teased your mom. You groaned as they started to playfully tease each other.

“Please tell me that won’t be us,” you mumbled to Crew. He laughed, leaning closer.

“Pretty sure that’s going to be exactly us, kid. I mean, you did pretty much eye fuck me the moment we met. It’s like you wanted to get caught,” he whispered.

“In your dreams, Foxe.”

“Every single one of them,” he said with a wink. You blushed, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “We don’t have to live so close-”

“I don’t mind. You went too long without a family. I want you to have them nearby.” He pecked a kiss to your lips, your younger siblings groaning. “But we can wait awhile for kids.”

“Agreed,” he chuckled. A voice cleared, your dad shaking his head.

“If y’all are going to make out like it very much looks like, can you do it in private? I’d like to have one moment of peace in my meal,” said your dad.

“Such a diva,” you and your mom said, Crew nearly spitting out his drink when he tried to laugh. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well he’s a diva in training then,” said your dad, nodding at Crew. 

After dinner, your dad pulled him aside out on the patio, your mom bumping your hip while you helped her wash up. “What’s up?”

“Dad’s having a chat with your husband about how to deal with being long distance which you probably will be sometimes. But take our advice and try to go together when you can at this age. You can’t get the time back,” she said. You slowly dried your hands off, watching them out the back window. 

“I know. I’m only doing the promo stuff and then Kripke’s going to help me get in a good set in the city he said. I’ll only be gone a week or so. Crew’s been alone enough in his life. I want him to be able to come home to someone at night or drive down the road and pop in here and hang out for awhile. He’s already decided once we do have kids someday, he’ll only take projects in New York, no matter what so he can be there for us. He can work and I’ll shift into freelance photography and-”

“That’s a nice plan and all,” she laughed. “But it’s gonna change. He’s gonna get a job offer he loves that’s halfway across the country and you’re gonna tell him to go because it makes him so happy. You’ll learn what works best for you both. The only advice I can give is talk. Never stop talking, even the days you’re both exhausted. You are not in his shadow just because he’s famous. Your dreams matter as much as his.”

“He thinks mine matter more actually,” you said, glancing down.

“That’s why we know he’s a good one. He’s a good boy,” she said giving you a hug you happily returned. “Plus it’s such a turn on when a big strong guy is more than willing to be on bottom-”

“Thank you for the thoughtful moment and emotional scarring mother!” you said, quickly walking away. “I’ll try to forget that ever happened!”

You walked outside, Crew as white as a ghost, your dad ruffling your head as he slipped inside. “Honey? You okay?”

“Some things stay between a man and his father-in-law,” mumbled Crew, shaking his head out. “Are you good? I saw you talking to your mom.”

“Yeah, just getting some advice,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Caught you.”

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “I guess you did Mrs. Foxe. Lucky me.”

________

[storeecbrcod]

This is 100% self indulgent and not like what I usually write but 🤷 deal mfs

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x F!reader

I feel like, despite how hot headed he is, John ‘Soap’ MacTavish would be the best at holding space for you and encouraging you to do things outside your comfort zone most would deem ‘normal’.

Ever since you started drinking at the very proper age of 18, you have hated drinking past a buzz. Obviously, as a kid, you make mistakes; you drink an alcohol that doesn’t agree with you, or you lose track, it happens. But even when you are much more intoxicated than you want to be, you can’t shake the anxiety of coming across as drunk. It’s been drilled into you that you’re more mature, that you’re more capable at taking care of yourself. Always the proper one, always the guardian amongst friends.

So when you come across as reluctant to drink with John, always offering to be the designated driver during outings or only having a single drink and denying any more, he’s confused. He’s always seen you act as the mature one, but also you could be so silly and fun. Drinking was all about fun, why did you hate it so much?

The conversation starts as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you were getting ready for a date. He pressed soft kisses across your shoulder blades, it makes you chuckle softly, looking at him through the mirror as you shut your lipstick.

“Bon,” he started, tone light and soft as his chin rested on your shoulder, stubble scratching at your bare skin there. “Why’s it you dinnae drink?”

Your brow furrows, looking down to your makeup bag and fishing out an eyebrow pencil, uncapping it and leaning towards the mirror of the bathroom slightly, starting to apply it. “What do you mean? I do drink,” you reply, continuing to stare yourself in the mirror as you map out precise lines. “We have a drink together nearly every weekend, love.”

He huffed, squeezing his arms into your midsection briefly. “I ken, but I’ve never seen ye let loose,” he pushed. “You drink enough to seem relaxed, but I feel as ye boyfriend, I deserve to see you piss drunk at least once.”

He punctuated his words with a lopsided grin, meeting your eyes through the mirror. “Level the playin’ field for the times ye’ve picked me up ten sheets to the bleedin’ wind.”

You chuckle, but it sounds forced to his ears and your own. Shame sat in a lump in your throat, twisted with anxiety. He can sense it, the way you instinctively lick your lips even as you try to not disturb your makeup, the way your eyes avoid his. He let you finish your other eyebrow before placing a hand over your own, gently making you put down your makeup. He spun you around with his hands on your waist, letting you lean against the counter behind you, looking up to him.

“You never let go,” he said again, softer this time. He laced his fingers with yours, eyes tracing where you two met for a moment before looking up to your eyes. His own were molten with the desire to understand, the need to comfort and care. “Why is that?”

You stayed silent for a few moments, still avoiding his eyes. You traced patterns in his plain shirt, watching his fingers scrape gently over your skin, feeling his warmth at his proximity. It didn’t feel suffocating as it may have with anyone else; he was gentle, not demanding. Most people you confide in about your anxiety around drinking tell you to grow up, completely ignoring the double standard of people desiring you to get blind but not be out of hand. They want the entertainment, at the expense of your embarrassment.

“Bonnie,” John cooed to you, calling your eyes back to his. He hooked a finger under your chin, trying not to disturb your setting makeup. “I’m not goin’ tae tease ya, right?”

You huff a laugh, brushing him off and looking away, making him drop his hand to your waist once more. You hesitate again, but look back to him with your lips pursed. “I hate the next day,” you say simply.

“Everyone does,” he replied with a chuckle, but it was soft. “Hangovers aren’t fun for anyone, baby.”

You chuckle with him, hitting his shoulder weakly in retaliation. “Not what I meant, Tav, and you know it,” you admonish, affection clear in your voice. You sigh, easing up again, hesitating.

“I don’t like being out of control,” you admit, shrugging and looking up to him. Instinctively, your arms cross, almost hugging yourself. His hands rub your arms up and down, comforting. “It’s not nice for a young girl to be incoherent and stumbling, yeah? Not safe, either.”

John scoffed, brow furrowing in genuine yet gentle confusion. “Ye’ve got me, bonnie,” he replied, shaking his head in mild disbelief. “And what’s it matter what other people think? You’re having fun, no?”

You pout at him dramatically, making him chuckle again. “Naw, don’t you start poutin’,” he added, poking your side and making you flinch with a yelp of protest. “I mean it. Chances are, everyone else isn’t gonna remember their own names let alone you, hun. And lord knows all I’m gonna remember is how fuckin’ sexy you are. I’ll be just as drunk as you, my love.”

You huff, pursing your lips, leaning back against the counter more. Just the thought of being anywhere near drunk around others, having seen your own fair share of other drunk people and, worse, trying to take care of them, makes you want to gag.

“It’s not… classy,” you grumble.

“Neither is being the only sober one in a club,” he replied with an eyebrow raised, making you groan. “Clubbing is about getting a bit messy, love, I dinnae ken why getting messy with everyone else is so bad. Tell me.”

“Because I’m not… messy.”

“Do they know that?”

You pause, knowing he’s got you pushed into a bit of a corner. You know rationally that nobody cares, that at the worst people pity the messier of the rest, but something about it makes your skin crawl. John can sense it, pulling you towards him for a brief hug, your chin on his shoulder.

“You’re so proper,” he muttered, the grin clear in his voice. “Wha’ the hell do you see in me? I’m no’ exactly proper, bon.”

“I like that you’re easy going,” you reply, letting him just hold you for a moment. You felt a bit… childish, for being like this. Like this fear wasn’t really founded, a phobia like the nightmares kids get scared of. Monsters under the bed and figures chasing them down the hall. A little silly, something that dissipates with age, but still scares you.

“Then let me show you how to be easy goin’,” he said quietly, letting the offer hang. He snickered after a few moments. “It gets easier the more drinks ye have, I promise.”

You laugh with him, sniffling a bit. He was always so warm, so gentle when he needed to be. He never approached your problems with the idea that it was childish, even if you thought they were. Problems were problems, no matter how big or small, insignificant or important.

“What about we start here?” He offered quietly, pulling back to look you in the eye. “We ‘ave tha’ bottle of whiskey we could put a dent in, then we can grab a taxi or somethin’. Get you properly loosened up, til it’s easier to push through.”

You roll your eyes, snickering a bit. “This feels coercive,” you say sarcastically, making him grin.

“I never claimed to be a saint, swee’heart”

You give a moment of pause, looking up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t help the small smile pulling at your lips, for once the idea of being messy seeming like a good one if it meant you and John could spill onto each other. It felt a bit romantic and intimate, if you wanted to get poetic about it.

“Ok,” you say quietly. His face lit up, making you melt as he beamed at you, eyes twinkling with pleasure simply at you giving in to his gentle coaxing. “But, I won’t promise to going out. Don’t know if I’ll even want to.”

“Fine by me, bonnie,” he replied, his hands trailing down to your ass and grabbing a fistful of it cheekily, a glint in his eye. “Either way, I’ll be barkin’ up your tree all night.”

You huff in mock irritation, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. He smiles against your lips, sending a thrill of warmth down your spine, letting it break down the anxiety.

“Careful, MacTavish. I’m getting all pretty for you.”

“Then finish your face,” he all but purred, gently turning you back around as you giggled, yelping again as he pinned you against the counter with his hips, making you laugh more. He leaned into your ear, looking to your eyes through the mirror heatedly and forcing you to bite your lip to suppress another noise. “And I’ll get the drinks pourin’ for your pretty little arse.”

A/N: once again, self indulgent in light of getting pretty fucked up and 100% regretting it even though no one got hurt or upset on the night ✌️ RIP my pride and ego ig

[chimielie]

i had the time of my life / fighting dragons with you

summary: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!Reader. No one in history has even come close to touching a night fury. Iwaizumi should be lauding himself as the greatest warrior of all time; well past Oikawa as the greatest of your generation, even. And instead he’s trying to turn it into a cat.

word count: 1.7k

cw: incredibly minor blood, unserious death threats, one minor mention of parental death. overuse of italics and “brat” as a nickname.

a/n: how to train your dragon au, iwaizumi is not really similar to hiccup but he LOVES big lizard!!! anyway i’ve been on a bus since 6:45 am with intermittent sightseeing stops and my phone was also dead for five hours so i have no idea how or when i wrote this <3 love you

“i think,” iwaizumi starts, “i’ve made a discovery.”

“what?” you look up from the whetstone you’re sharpening your sword against, passing the blade through your hands again and again with the practiced ease of years of study. “don’t tell me you’ve pissed over the ale or something stupid.”

his fine nose wrinkles.

“i don’t do things like that,” he says your name, irritated. the mocking lift to your lips drops and your eyebrows soften. he nearly never uses your given name. instead, it’s been lady or bug or brat since you were youths.

lady, most often, used always around your family and anyone who wasn’t a friend. it was your default title, said with iwaizumi’s plain sincerity and never the mocking twist that some of the other village boys used.

bug, generally when he wanted to goad you into breaking the rules. it had begun when you were still children and he had been the largest of you all: oikawa, matsukawa, hanamaki. things hadn’t stayed that way, but the nickname remained and never failed to incense you until you were slinging your weapon over your back and striding ahead of them all.

brat, used without any pattern identifiable to you. it was often accompanied by an exasperated but affectionate puff of breath and an accommodation to a demand, but not always. sometimes he would lean to the side as you entered the dining hall and mutter something like “you have a tear in the back of your skirt,” and before you ever found your tongue in the red rage that descended upon you that he hadn’t said anything sooner, follow with “lucky for you, brat, no one’ll notice when they’re blind with your beauty.”

the last one almost always nonplussed you so much you had no answer but to kick him in the back of the knee, and it never pissed him off as much as it should.

so you know whatever he wants to talk about is serious.

“i know,” you say, lifting your sword and inspecting it. “what have you done, then?”

“i have to show you,” he says, and your brows nearly shoot into your hairline. it’s not something he’s made, then; something bulky, sturdy iwaizumi can’t carry home to you.

his face is carefully neutral, but his eyes betray him. something lively and hopeful is dancing in the depths of his green eyes, something you rarely see in his chronically serious face.

you pick up your two-hander, sliding it into its just-oiled scabbard.

“take me to it, sir,” you say, and his face splits into a beaming smile you’re not sure you can recall seeing in years.

“this isn’t a discovery,” you say blandly as he pushes aside branches so you can duck under them without tangling leaves in your hair. “this is what we called the secret garden as children, hajime. don’t tell me you’re so old you’re losing your memories already?”

“you’re not funny,” iwaizumi says with a chuckle, and pride glows in your chest. “it’s not the glade, brat, it’s—”

“a fucking night fury?” you shriek, scrambling back as soon as you pass through the branches, hitting iwaizumi’s firm chest as an obstacle. “whatever you wanted to show me has been eaten and burned by now, i hope you know! or the other way around!”

you reach for your sword, but he pulls it out of its sheath before you can.

“have you lost your damn mind?” you shout, watching him put himself between you and the most fearsome creature you can imagine and holding the sword towards you. like you’re going to hurt it.

“hey, hey,” he says, tossing your weapon to the side, and the thing snuggles into him, growling. no, not growling—purring. “don’t worry, she’s not gonna hurt you.”

you dive for your sword and come up kneeling, watching your oldest friend, one of the greatest warriors of your generation, scratching the head of a fucking night fury; the same dragon, or its kin, that killed his father five years ago.

“no worries that it’ll, i don’t know, maim and kill me,” you say. “or yourself, for that matter. for the love of life, hajime, what are you trying to do, tame it?

“i’m not trying to tame him,” iwaizumi says, looking up at you with stupid, glimmering, hopeful eyes. “he’s—i injured him, a few months ago.”

no one in history has even come close to touching a night fury. iwaizumi should be lauding himself as the greatest warrior of all time; well past oikawa as the greatest of your generation, even. and instead he’s trying to turn it into a cat.

“why didn’t you finish the job?” you say warily, lowering your guard ever so slightly. it’s a beautiful creature, you have to admit, with black scales that seem to absorb the light and green eyes remarkably like the shade of—

“we—i don’t know,” iwaizumi’s tone turns reverent, affectionate. “we came to an understanding.”

“an understanding,” you echo, cocking your head and sizing up the fury. its build is lithe, more suited to its nighttime bursts of violence than some of the dragons you’ve slain in your day. you circle the two of them, giving a wide berth as the dragon swivels its head to look at you, and there it is.

mattsun’s handiwork if you’ve ever seen it, a beautiful leather-and-metal fin fitted to the dragon’s tail, replacing where iwaizumi’s blade had torn it. you wonder if he’d known. if you were the last of your cohort to know.

“it’s a beautiful piece,” you murmur, reaching out to touch it almost inexorably. it stiffens, hissing at you, and you flinch back.

“go on,” hajime says softly. the dragon looks at you with those alarmingly familiar eyes, sizing you up just as you had it. against all your better judgment, you drop your sword, kicking it to the side. it steps toward you, gaze flicking back and forth between you, the weapon, and iwaizumi. you don’t move, barely breathing as it bumps its head into your side just as it had iwaizumi.

you’re not braced for it, buckling a little under the force of the headbutt, but after a few more moments of caution, you dare to lift a hand and pat it on the head, once.

“hello, scourge of the skies,” you say softly to it. “please don’t burn, eat, or kill me.”

“i won’t let him hurt you,” iwaizumi’s voice is low and raspy, blending with the rush of wind through the grass. “‘sides, he’s well fed, huh?” he gives the dragon an affectionate pat on the rump.

“i don’t even want to know what you’ve been stealing to feed a night fury.”

“not stealing,” iwaizumi says, but he doesn’t elaborate, to your relief. “do you want to see something else?”

“if it’s another dragon…” you warn fruitlessly.

“not another dragon,” he says reassuringly, and instead produces a mass of leather tangled in itself so you can’t determine what exactly it is. the dragon seems to recognize it, though, and bows its—his—head to help iwaizumi through the process of getting it on.

“oh, hajime,” you say with dawning horror. “you’re not going to try and ride it, are you? if you die in such a stupid way, i’m going to be incredibly pissed off.”

“i’m not going to die, bug,” iwaizumi promises, tightening a final strap on the saddle. “and neither are you.”

“what the fuck does that mean?” you say, and he’s already lifting you up, one arm supporting your back and the other your knees like it’s not already humiliating enough, he has to put you in some kind of princess carry to finish you off entirely. “hajime. hajime! you can’t do this—”

your words are cut off by a scream and a second attempt of the day to crawl back into the strong cage of iwaizumi’s arms. the dragon’s wings beat beneath you, a steady rhythm not unlike the gallop of a horse, but you still dig your legs in tightly and squeeze your eyes shut.

eventually, you must reach some kind of acceptable elevation as the dragon’s flight evens out, transitioning from actively beating against the wind to riding it. you open one eye tentatively, your breath stolen from you as the sea of your people stretches out into the horizon.

“are you alright?” iwaizumi inquires in your ear, and you settle a little more comfortably against him.

“i’m going to kill you if i survive this,” you say. he chuckles low in your ear and tugs the reins sharply, steering the dragon in a wide arc.

“you sound practically relaxed.” the ocean’s waves are visible even from this height, and the white line of the crash against the cliffs almost reminds you of bridal lace. “relaxed enough to stop digging your claws into my arms?”

you hadn’t even been aware that you were gripping onto him so tightly. when you withdraw, little pink half-moons are left, some bubbling with red droplets.

“i’d be sorry,” you say, “but you kidnapped me with a dragon, so i think we’re only even now.”

abruptly, iwaizumi’s knee moves, nudging the belly of the dragon, and all three of you plummet, dropping in a neat line toward the blue, blue sea. your stomach drops beautifully as a strong pull of the reins brings you back up, just barely skimming the water’s surface, and there’s spray on your face and sun in your eyes and iwaizumi’s laugh, wild and carefree, carrying you away on the wind.

“thanks for sharing this with me,” he says when you both have your breath again. his night fury coasts on the breeze, the sun low on the horizon, turning the light golden and the sea shining like precious metal in every direction. “even if you were a brat about it.”

you think, maybe, everything makes sense now; a realization as sharp and sudden as freefall feels. you lean back into his chest and raise your hands in the air. a language without words; a name that means beloved.

the sun drops below your eye’s limits, and the beat of the night fury’s wings is steady beneath the two of you.