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carusolikey · 13 days

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The Blue Hour

a Max Phillips & Bloodsucking Bastards FanFic

Chapter 3: This is the Skin of a Killer, Bella

This week on 'The Blue Hour' - a Max Phillip's vampire always pays their debts. We’re finally going to learn the true definition of a Peña Colada (get your notebooks ready, this will be on the final), and we’ll be playing a tricky game of “Are You Smarter Than a Twilight Vampire?” Reader beware, you're in for graphic fare!

Pairing: Max Phillips of Bloodsucking Bastards x afab!fem!reader

Rating: Explicit / NSFW 18+ (No Minors)

Author’s Note: I wrote this piece during the month of April 2024 - Adenomyosis Awareness Month, and the idea came to me during March 2024 (Endometriosis Awareness Month). This will not have any type of pregnancy kink, but will touch on infertility of OC due to the aforementioned; canon for this story is also that Vampires are infertile - there will be no Renesmé. OC is intended to be around the same age as Max, reader’s choice up or down, but no age gap. Because older afab/fem lovers are sexy - we drink and we know things.

Warnings: This will continue to be a blanket coverage of this point forward.

A bit of rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration - P in V, oral [m + f receiving]), food play, 18+ only content, able bodied fem afab reader, alcohol consumption, non-gendered pet names, fem can be carried and has hair - though length is not mentioned, consensual "bondage", some use of y+n - but not explicitly, though consensuality is implied and intended through actions and reactions, no protection used for Vampire reasons TBD (be wise and always use protection, this is fiction). Did attempt to stay away from gendered pronouns and nicknames, although did use the word woman, 3 times throughout the entire piece (not fully published yet) referring to OC. Discussion of history of endo / adeno, and future chapter will mention previous relationship / SA; there will also be Vampire hunting, murdering, and blood….sucking bastards.

Wordcount: 8k + a few, but who's counting?

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Shaking my head, I tried to pretend like I didn’t just wake up with a pillow tightly squeezed between my legs, and let out a huge, exasperated sigh, screaming a little bit into the pillow my head laid upon.

“Siri, play My Song 5 by Haim.”

“I’m sorry, I’m having trouble connecting to the internet.”

“Gaaaah!” I groaned in anguish. “Fine. I’ll do it the hard way.”

Opening up Spotify on my phone, I flipped to my mega, 78 hour and 53 minutes long playlist and searched, clicking on the song I wanted.

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The rough beat perfectly matched my grumpy mood at waking up so unreasonably horny. Dammit, I thought to myself, I cannot be this starved for the Vitamin D.

I got out of bed and noticed Mr. Rochester, forlornly abandoned on the floor. Oooh, better wash him off.

As I gave Mr. Rochester a thorough scrub, laying him on a clean hand towel on the side of the bathroom sink, I felt my stomach grumble. Whew - I guess Max really did give me a workout last night! I blushed, grinning to myself as I thought of his charming grin with its dimple, the way he looked up at me, as I pulled on his tie - the feeling of straddling him as I sat on his lap, facing him.

Quickly giving my face a wash and brushing my teeth, I tried to put those thoughts out of my head. Once I was done in the bathroom, I put on a robe and went straight into the kitchen - opting to start my day with Yerba Mate instead of coffee.

Oh, dear. You must have it bad, if coffee is reminding you too much of his eyes. I shook my head, trying to think of what I might do with my day off instead. Books to catch up on? Poetry to write? Call my sister? No. She can always tell when something’s up with me. Call my mom? Maybe - she loves telling me about the latest hometown gossip, and I can just listen while I do something productive, like - OH! That hat I need to finish knitting! Perfect.

After making some toast with peanut butter and strawberry jam, and enjoying a bowl of fresh strawberries and blueberries, I was just about to call my mom when a text popped up from Max. It was a gif of Ryan Reynolds making a sassy come hither face, with the words, “you up?” flashing underneath.

I giggled to myself and texted him back, “Yes, Ryan Reynolds. I am.”

Immediately the text dots popped up, and Max’s response came through, “Mind if I stop by? I believe I have something that belongs to you.”

Looking down at my robe and silk set, I had to think for a moment, “Uh, I’m not dressed yet, if you want to give me 10-15 minutes?”

Almost instantaneously, Max’s reply came through, “Don’t get dressed on account of me.” Followed by a prompt knock on the door that caused me to spill tea over a small portion of the dining table.

“Oh, no.”

I jumped up and reached over the kitchen bar for paper towels, calling out, “I’ll be right there!”

Unwrapping about 20 towels from the roll, which was significantly more than needed, I cleaned up the spill as quickly as possible, then hurriedly tossed the paper towels in the trash. Finally, I headed straight to the door while adjusting my hair and checking my teeth on my phone camera. Alright, that’s as good as it gets! I opened the door, and Max was leaning against the door frame - his grin pulled up to one side, dimple on full display, better than I remembered.

Mr. Vilallonga’s door was open, but he had his hand over his eyes as he picked up yet another package, already apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry….”

“I told him that he has to do that from now on.” Max smiled a big toothy grin, his eyes crinkling, as he stepped away from the door frame and entered the apartment.

He closed the door behind him as he gave me a kiss on the forehead.

Laughing, shocked at Max’s gall and a little impressed that he went to such lengths to ensure that I wouldn’t be caught in the same compromising position again - my hand instinctively went to my forehead, as I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair.

“It’s okay. He likes it.” Max assured me, giving me another kiss on the cheek and the neck.

As he straightened up, I realized that he was holding a bouquet of white orchids and white magnolias. They smelled absolutely wonderful, fragrant and sweet like a bakery in the morning - a bit of vanilla, with a hint of citrus and honey, and the musky scent of lemon-verbena.

“Is this the thing that belongs to me?” I asked, my tone of voice betraying me, revealing my surprise and delight immediately.

“Well, it’s - part - of the thing that I believe belongs to you. It’s sort of an apology.” Max scrunched up his nose, looking a little self-conscious. That’s funny, I thought, never thought I’d see him with that look on his face.

I took the flowers into the kitchen, giving them a happy inhale, as Max followed closely behind. Opening a cabinet next to the sink, I let my eyes roam until I spotted what I was looking for on one of the top shelves. Hmm… a bit high. Max reached above me and grabbed the deep red, clear glass vase.

“Thank you!”

“Anytime.”

He smiled down at me, and then leaned on the counter as I trimmed the ends of the flowers before placing them in the vase. As I arranged the last flower, he pulled out a small box he’d had tucked under his arm.

“I believe I owe you a debt.”

“What??” looking at him, confused, I hesitantly took the small, thin blue box. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, waiting for me to open it.

Carefully, cautiously, I gave a light tug on the ribbon, which easily gave way and then set it on the counter. I took off the lid and folded back the tissue paper, biting my lip as I laid eyes on the loveliest vintage silk, teal and black lace silk bra. My mouth slightly agape, I set down the box, holding up the bra and admiring it.

“There’s more,” Max nodded towards the box on the counter, and I eagerly peered into the box.

“Oh, really?” I asked, giving him a cheeky little laugh.

Inside the box was a matching garter of the same vintage teal silk and black lace, and a pair of black thigh highs with the seam going up the back.

“They should fit, if you want to try them on,” Max gazed at me expectantly.

“So vampires have the ability to actually size people up by looking at them? That’s a thing?” I asked him dubiously.

“Well –” he began, a bit apprehensively, “I did grab your moderately destroyed lingerie this morning, when you left the room, so that I could replace it with the correct size. I felt pretty bad about wrecking it. Even though I loved it in the moment - sorry?”

He shrugged his shoulders, and to be honest, his apology was very half-hearted, and I had the distinct feeling that it wasn’t going to be the last time he ripped an item of clothing off my body. At least judging by the playful glint in his eye.

“Tentatively forgiven, Max. Tentatively.”

Squinting at him, I continued, “I reserve the right to rescind that absolution should the crime be repeated. In which case, recurrent offenses may be subject to increased punishments and fines. As per prevailing statutes regarding Lingerie Law.”

“Oh, of course. Lingerie Law - that’s closely related to Bird Law, right?”

“Obviously. The fact that you even have to ask.” I scoffed at him.

He laughed, and then took both of my hands in his, locking his eyes with mine, “Please try on the lingerie. Please.”

“Of course.” I felt my cheeks flush, and Max leaned in, kissing me on the lips - gentle, sweet, but firm in their resolve to get me good and kissed.

Gathering up the box of lingerie, tissue paper, ribbon, I took it with me into my bedroom and closed the door behind me. Inspecting the contents of the box, I was struck not only by how tasteful the lingerie was, but how it was really exactly my style. It was weird to feel… so seen by something so - simple? Naughty? Sexy?

Putting it on, it fit perfectly, and it felt very nice as it hugged all of my curves in all of the right spots. I looked in the mirror and felt a little bit like Bettie Page, it was empowering.

Taking the ribbon from the box, I tied it in my hair like a headband. It felt like I was missing something, so I took a look in my closet, a smirk crossing my face as my eyes strayed toward the perfect accessories.

Walking out of my bedroom in some patent leather Mary Jane style shoes and a lovely long red floral robe draped over my shoulders, letting the lingerie peek-a-boo through, Max looked up - immediately dropping his crossed arms, standing up straighter, and his jaw dropping slightly.

“What, this old thing?” I teased.

“Yeah. Yes. That old thing.” He walked over to me, taking my hand and bringing it up above my head, giving me a twirl, “Max likey. Max likey a lot.”

“Oh! So I’ve earned third person accolades?”

“Uh-huh.” Max kept nodding and spun me into his arms. As his eyes washed over me, he dazedly continued, “I have something else I want to share with you.”

“Something else?” I asked, incredulously. What more could he have for me? This felt like quite enough. Although, I was curious. Dammit. Damn my curiosity.

He stepped back, and reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, sitting on one of the dining table chairs. I had no idea what to expect, but I certainly was not prepared for what he presented to me.

“What do you think of this?” He smirked, “They were just going to throw these out at work!”

It was an old school label maker. The really old kind that had a dial for the letters, and for each letter you had to squeeze the handle very tightly in order to get it to make an impression on the label tape. They were a pain to use, but to be fair, those types of label makers always made the wickedest labels.

“Okay, that’s actually pretty cool, Max.” I admitted, “But what made you think of me when they were getting rid of it?”

“Well, I was thinking it would be helpful - we could use it to label our relationship.”

“Label the relationship? How do you mean?” intrigued, I wanted to hear where he was going with this.

“As in–” he started punching letters into the label maker, “EXACTLY–” punch, punch, punch, “what–” punch, punch, punch – punch, punch, “I–” punch, punch, “said.” punch.

He finished, very satisfied with himself, and held up the finished product - a label that said, “Max’s Favorite”, with a huge smile on his face. Max immediately pulled off the protective paper on the back, and stuck the label on my forehead.

Admiring his work aloud, “Perfect.”

I felt a bit less sexy with a label on my forehead.

Max was all in on the label maker, he kept punching in more letters, and the next thing he came up with was, “Best Kisser,” putting it right on my chin. Followed by, “Sexiest Décolletage,” just below my clavicles, “Stinkiest In a Good Way,” on my neck, “Most Likely to Be Bitten by a Vampire,” on my wrists.

And then he got really excited and asked me, “Where’s Mr. Rochester?”

Confused, I gave him the downlow, the lowdown, the 411, the fax - no printer, the webmd, the no cap, “Mr. Rochester has retired to the bath - he’s taking a day off.”

“Good!” Max sassily and decidedly replied.

When he came back from the bathroom, he showed me Mr. Rochester, who now had his own label: “UNEMPLOYED”.

“Unemployed? Did you just fire my vibrator?!” I exclaimed, shocked that he would take the initiative to terminate my household staff’s employment. Frowning, “I think that’s outside of your purview.”

Max shrugged, setting Mr. Rochester on the dining table behind me and then picked me up, gliding easily from my little dining nook into the kitchen area, where he delicately set me on top of the L-shaped peninsula of the kitchen counter. I crossed one leg over the other, as I leaned forward with my palms on the edge of the counter.

“Well, Mr. Phillips - it seems like you’ve got a prerogative for this evening.”

He put his hands on either side of me, looking down at my legs, my chest, while talking, “I do, actually. But I - I wanted to ask you something.” He looked up into my eyes, waiting for me to give him the go ahead.

“That’s fine. Ask away.”

“How are you feeling today?”

I laughed, “I’m good. I’m very good, Max.”

“No. No, I mean–” he hesitated again, biting his lip, “was I too rough with you last night? Are you sore or in pain?”

“Oh.” I sighed. “Okay.”

“I really - I would hate myself if I hurt you.”

“Listen–” I took ahold of his hands and looked him straight in the eyes, “After the second surgery, I went on a bunch of dates and felt obligated to tell the men I dated that I was still in healing mode, and that kids might be an issue - if they were looking for something serious.”

Taking my right hand, I brushed my fingers through a little curl forming along his forehead.

“Which sucked, of course, because who wants to hear about that right away? Although I felt like it wasn’t fair to let someone get emotionally involved with me if my endo was going to be a problem for them. And I wanted someone who could be gentle as I was healing. Unfortunately, it led to a lot of them being afraid to have sex with me. A real bunch of cowards they were.”

Max’s eyes took on a watery depth, not quite on the brink of crying, but of deep warmth and caring.

“At this point, I’m many months post-op, and while my hormones are still driving me a bit batty,” he flinched as I said that, “I’m in much, much better shape - I evicted the organ that was causing the most pain, and I’m way hornier now. It might seem like ‘in theory’ I don’t have as much space for you, but vaginas are magical organs that get really stretchy the more turned on they get. I mean - it’s built for pushing out a new human, so… it’s good to go. Do not back down on my account. You know what Hal Sparks said, right?”

He squinted at me, and I went on, “Pussy bleeds every month and it never dies - it’s like The Predator.”

Max burst out laughing, “Okay! Okay! I trust that you’ll let me know, I won’t back down.”

“Good. Do not go gentle into that good night.”

“I will not. I will rage until the dying of the light,” he said passionately, still chuckling.

“Now, I will admit that while I can take a pounding –” Max tilted his head, curious where I was going with this statement, “I’m actually extremely sensitive to a lot of other things, because of the whole residual nerve sensitivity - my body tends to be on high alert when it comes to most of my senses, touch - very much so, taste, smell, sometimes I can be sensitive to sound / noises, super bright lights. Besides sound and light, the other senses can actually be very sensual with the right person.”

“Oh, reaeeaaallly?” Max asked, an idea seemingly sparked within him.

“Yeah. Totally.”

He reached over and pulled the vase of flowers he brought closer to the two of us, “Do you know why I chose white orchids and magnolias?”

“They’re beautiful, and I love them!?” He turned and looked at me. “But other than that, no.”

“All flowers have meanings. White orchids can be used to convey hope - new beginnings,” he raised his eyebrow as he looked at me.

“Magnolias represent beauty, and in Victorian times it was the flower of choice for lovers sending correspondence. But the white magnolia in particular, well - it represents the Lunar Goddess.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek, then drew them down the line of my jaw, stopping at my chin, where he held my face so that I was looking up at him - his thumb gently stroking my bottom lip.

“My beautiful, midnight, Lunar Goddess.”

I smiled up at him, and kissed his thumb.

His eyes grew wide, “I want to try something.”

“Uh, okay?”

“I want to test your sensitivity.”

“Uhhhhh….”

“We can try it, and if you hate it as soon as I start, we’ll stop, but I have a feeling - you’re going to enjoy it.”

I shrugged, “Okay, Max. I guess - I trust you.”

He gave me a look like his heart was going to burst when he heard that, pausing only for a moment, and then getting back to the business at hand.

“Let’s remove your outer layer, shall we?” He gestured to my floral robe, and I used both hands to release it from my shoulders.

Max sat and stared for a moment, pleased with how well the lingerie fit and looking like he couldn’t decide whether to keep it on me or take it off. Slowly, he took his gaze off me, and reached for a stem of orchids from the vase.

I cocked my head to the side, unsure how he was going to proceed.

He took the orchids, and reaching out, let them lightly drag down the crook of my neck and across my clavicle.

My skin pricked up, I could feel the sensation rushing to my nipples as he drew the petals down across my new silk bra.

Quivering, my hands gripped the counter. Max followed the line of my bra strap, up around my back and he walked behind me. Feeling the bra unclasp, one of his hands lightly loosened the straps so that the bra fell forward, while the other continued to trail the orchid up and down my spine. My breathing quickened, and I felt my legs start to shake a bit as my vagina clenched, breasts moving up and down as I tried to pace my breathing - and closed my eyes.

“Look at me.”

I opened my eyes, and Max was in front of me again, watching me with his mouth slightly open, his tongue hungrily, precipitously waiting between two slightly open lips.

Drawing the flowers across my untethered breasts, over my peaked nipples, my legs clamped together like a vice. Gingerly moving the orchids lower, underneath my breasts, around my rib cage, moving straight down my stomach, towards the top of the garter.

The moment he got to the top of the garter, I let out a small squeak of a moan, and he immediately put the flower back in the vase, tapping my knee with one hand, and grabbing the back of my neck with the other as he pulled me in for an extremely passionate, breathtaking kiss.

Like an upside down Heinz 57 Ketchup bottle tapped in just the right spot, my legs opened for him, and he used his available hand to start massaging my pussy and clitoris through the fabric. Meanwhile, he continued to open me up with his kisses, deep and rolling into me like waves from the ocean. Right as we came up for air, he immediately began kissing down my neck and focusing his fingers on my clitoris, moving in steady, focused circles, until I gasped.

Max pulled back, his breathing a bit deeper. He walked over to the sink and washed his hands, and immediately I knew what he was planning on doing. The effort, though - the consideration, knowing what I’d been through, and not taking any risks with my body. Fuck. That’s hot. Coming back over to me, he gave me another intense kiss, and then leaned me back down on the countertop, sliding my lingerie down my waist, and off completely. As I laid there on the counter, he put his left hand on my lower abdomen, and with his right middle finger, he started massaging against my cunt and up to my clitoris, his left hand slowly moving up my abdomen towards the middle of my chest, right between my breasts.

I arched my back, feeling the power of his hands on me, in me, but not trying to hold me down. Just trying to please me. Slowly, Max leaned his face over to where his right hand worked me, his thumb switching places with his middle finger, stimulating my clit with steady, firm circles, and licked into my vagina. I clenched and twitched, and his left hand moved to my breast, massaging, squeezing, then focusing on the nipple, giving it small pinches. Moaning in pleasure, I looked down my body at Max, who was staring right back at me - eyes crinkling. I couldn’t see his mouth, but his eyes were definitely smiling.

He moved up a bit, switching places with his hand so that his mouth was sucking on my clit, and his middle finger was pumping and curling inside me. Trembling, I grabbed onto his left hand, still on my breast, and through haphazard breaths, “I’m coming - I’m coming.”

With an involuntary jerk, I almost kicked him, but he held my leg in place, easily. Stars exploded as my vagina clamped and convulsed around his finger, which continued moving into me as it gradually altered to a slower pace. As the ebb and flow of my orgasm finally ceased, Max pulled his finger out and stuck it in his mouth all the way up to his knuckle - licking the entire thing clean, saying, “Mmmmm,” the entire time, while I laughed and covered my face.

Max pushed the vase of flowers further back from where I was on the counter, to give me a little space as I sat up, but almost knocked it over. “Oh, shit! What’s this?”

“Whoops. I think I accidentally left that out - from the last time I used it.” I grimaced in a classic “Whoops! My bad!” expression.

Smirking as he chuckled, Max cupped my face in one hand, and used the other hand to pick up the jar that nearly caused the fall of the house of orchids, examining the label closely.

“Organic, virgin, unrefined, cold-pressed, natural coconut oil, preservative free and fragrance free.” He scrunched his nose up at the jar, then said, “That feels like a lot to ask of your coconut oil.”

“Hey! Only the best for me!”

“Okay, fair enough. What do you use this for?”

“Well,” I started, “it’s great for skin, for lip care, for hair, and - are you allergic to coconut?”

Max shook his head. “No. I like coconut a lot, actually.”

“Okay, that’s good.” I gave him a sly smile. “Why don’t you hand me the jar, and a spoon out of the second drawer there,” I gestured to a middle drawer across from the peninsula I was sitting on.

“Hmm. Okay.”

Max inquisitively handed me the jar, turned to the designated spoon drawer and retrieved the required item. Which, he then handed to me, as I sat there naked as a jaybird, save for the black thigh highs and heels.

I opened the jar and scooped out a very small amount of coconut oil with the spoon, closing the jar again.

“Hey Siri, play Playa Tropical by Passion Coco.” I called out.

Max raised an eyebrow, “Oh, this requires mood music?”

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As the retro-surfer beat and reverb-drenched, twangy guitar started playing, I gave Max a cheeky grin, “Would you rather be asking questions or receiving right now?”

Bringing his hand up to his mouth, he made the international symbol of locking his trap and throwing away the key, an eager and excited expression etched on his face.

With the spoon in one hand, I grabbed Max’s tie with the other. Why is he always, always wearing a three-piece suit every time I see him? It’s just not fair. Tugging him towards me just a little bit at a time as I wrapped his tie around my hand, I brought Max close, but not too close. Dropping the tie, I used that same hand to unbutton the top button of his pants and unzip the zipper. Untucking his shirt, I was able to reach his navy blue boxer briefs, slowly pushing them down in the front and I was not disappointed. I could see the top of his shaft was already hard and licked my lips, as I reached my hand inside the briefs to pull out his dick. Glancing up at Max, his eyes were trained on my hand on his cock, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Letting his penis free of the confines of his pants, I released it and Max let out the breath he’d been holding. Using the spoon to apply the coconut oil to my free hand, I rubbed the oil between my hands to warm it up. Then taking my fragrant, slick hands, I reached down, making a loose circle with each, index finger to thumb. I tenderly and deliberately placed one hand in front of the other, over and over and over again, in the same direction. Max happily moaned, reaching up and grabbing my breast, until I reversed directions and he jerked slightly. His breathing became a bit more labored, and he leaned in to give me some heated kisses along my neck, holding himself up on my shoulders.

I could tell he was getting closer, and there was no way I was letting him get any further without tasting him. Slowing down with my hands, I slid off the counter, submitting myself on my knees for him - licking the precum off the tip of his exquisite, mouthwatering cock. Bringing him into my mouth, wrapping my lips around his coconut flavored dick, I felt like I was finally on the vacation I always wanted - sipping from the exact tall, delicious drink of which I’d always dreamed. Swirling my tongue just past the head, applying just a little bit of pressure on the just the right spot, feeling him shiver with pleasure, I couldn’t help but move one hand down my own body.

As I knelt on the floor looking up at him, he looked straight back down into my eyes with his mouth slightly agape - his penis in my mouth, one hand working his shaft, my other hand working my own clit. He tried to speak, “I’m gonna - can I - can - in your mouth?”

I nodded, continuing what I was doing so that he could finish inside me, and then I felt the abrupt convulsions in my hand, in my mouth, while Max’s whole body shuddered, and felt the warm, sticky cum running down my throat. The taste of coconut, with rum raisin, pineapple and a bit of salt - it was unusual, but seemed to be Max’s signature flavor and I licked that dick clean, while he leaned over me, watching.

“Sweetness, that was fucking hot.”

I looked up at him from the floor, and he offered his hand, lifting me up.

“Watching you masturbate while sucking my dick –” he shook his head, almost in disbelief, “But I can tell you still have a lot of heat and tension, and I’m gonna fuck that right out of you.”

I let out a loud guffaw, and covered my mouth, “Are you?”

He stepped closer to me, pressing me against the kitchen counter, “That’s satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back.”

I could feel his dick already starting to get hard again as it pressed into my hip.

Immediately, I started unbuttoning his vest, which he pulled off as I started working on the buttons on his shirt, which he yanked off and tossed on the floor. Then he pulled his pants and briefs off, leaving just his black business socks on. He picked me up and took me to my leather couch, laying me down, kissing me deeply - bestowing a thousand little kisses up and down my face and neck, moving down to suck on my nipples. When I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, he started rubbing his dick all along my pussy. Up and down, dipping in just enough to tease me, pulling back out and teasing me again. He was incorrigible.

I scowled at him, and he smirked, “I know what you want.”

“Then give it to me.”

“You asked for it, Sweetness.”

He rammed into me, and I cried out in bliss, each lunge into me, touching that magical little g spot, as the hairs above his shaft rubbed against my clit, creating an amazing dynamic of friction.

I could feel my release coming, “Don’t stop!”

My words fortified him, and he kept going, a teensy bit faster, a little bit harder, and Goldilocks perfect. I would not be surprised if two universes collided as a result of our build up and eventual release. We laid on the couch for a good 20 minutes after, not saying anything. Max on top of me, inside of me, curled up against me as we both caught our breath. Giving each other little kisses, but content to stay in place for the time being.

Until my stomach gurgled. Max lifted his head and looked at me, squinting at me beneath furrowed brows, as I gave him my most innocent, wide-eyed expression.

“Was that your stomach, growling like a baby cougar?”

After an elongated, awkward, Tina Belcher laugh, resistance was futile and I admitted the truth with a sing-songy, “Mayyy-beee.”

“Alright, yeah. I could eat, too.” Really? He can eat? Interesting. Put a pin in that for later.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmmm –” giving it a moment while I thought, “Well, obviously there aren’t a lot of places open at this hour, but there is this amazing little Brazilian bakery/market that’s open 24/7. They have the most absolutely scrumtrulescent coxinhas,” sitting up, I started to get very excited, speaking with my hands, “perfectly crispy on the outside, with delicious, tender pulled chicken, veggies, cheese on the inside, and the dough is,” I put my hand up to my mouth, giving a chef’s kiss, “They use tapioca flour in their coxinhas and cheese bread, so every time you take a bite into them, it’s stretchy and cheesy and lightly crunchy and exquisitely savory.”

Leaning back against the couch, I sighed, content by the mere thought.

Staring at me with a grin on his face, Max nodded, “How about that? Sounds like I better not get in between you and this Brazilian bakery - if I want any chance of sticking around.”

Turning red, I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous implication. He chuckled and grabbed my leg at the calf, kissing my ankle, before reaching for his phone. As he scrolled through the meal delivery app, reading off different items on the menu, asking which things sounded better and whether or not I would share with him, I wrapped myself in my grandmother’s afghan thinking, Sorry, G-Ma, I know you’re jealous, wherever you are. Rest in Petty.

I know what you’re thinking, but she was judgy, okay? Good vibes only.

“So, what would you like to do while we wait?” Max asked, booping me on the nose.

“Let’s see if there are any good movies on the ol’ streamer,” sitting up again, I reached for the remote, turning on one of those popular streaming services, probably the one that begins with an “H” and ends with an “ulu” - because the first movie advertised on the main screen with an extremely loud preview was Twilight.

Jerking my head to the left to look at Max, a grin rapidly turning into a smile rivaling The Joker, nodding furiously, he laughed at me. He laughed with me? He laughed. In what appeared to be a good natured way. So I hit play and we were immediately transported to Forks, Washington.

“Uh, uh, wha - uh,” I did my best Kristen Stewart as Bella Swan impersonation, as Max slammed his hand over his mouth and nose, his face expressing pure disgust when I looked over at him, in a perfect “Edward reacts to Bella entering Bio class” move.

“Cool, cool,” was my automatic response, “Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” as my face contorted in overdramatic mock worry.

Taking his hand down from his mouth, Max smiled, rubbing my leg reassuringly. I didn’t need to be reassured, but it was nice anyway - I enjoyed the pampering from this confident, borderline arrogant man, sharing my grandmother’s (now “sex”) afghan with me on my couch.

“Okay - be real. You’re a vampire, you live forever, right?”

“Uh, yeah?” Max cautiously responded.

“Are you actually going to go back to high school and graduate 25 times?”

A deep chuckle, rumbling in his chest, “No! Absolutely not - I would never be that bored or boring to not move on to college, at least. There’s a whole world out there and so many people and vampires to meet. It’s not that small of a world that you don’t get a whole new set of people every lifetime to meet and explore.”

He was still laughing, when he looked over at me, recognizing by the far off look in my eye, that I was mulling over the fact that I was only one lifetime for him. His face dropped.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole.”

“No - no. It’s okay. It’s true, though, isn’t it?”

“It is,” he lamented, “It’s something that I really had to come to terms with after my unholy transition, and while I’m in a better place now, the idea is honestly a bit scary to me. I think it’s going to be one of the hardest things I do - to watch the people around me disappear, while I just keep going. I’ve made connections in the vampire world, so I’m not completely alone, but I’m not sure it’s going to be quite the same.”

He gave a light, hollow and sarcastic chuckle, shaking his head.

I mulled over his admission, the sadness that seemed to hang in the air despite his attempt to convince me otherwise by laughing about the permanence of his situation.

How should I approach this? How do I let him know that I’m here and he can talk to me? How do I give him the space to open up to me, without feeling obligated or feeling like he needs to protect me from difficult feelings? I can’t imagine there’s such a thing as an undead vampire therapist, to help humans becoming vampires with the emotional transition?

“If you could go back in time, and give yourself advice before you were turned - so that you could maybe have more choice in the situation, what would you tell yourself?”

Max shrugged his shoulders, “Hmm…” gazing into the distance, he went on, “I don’t know that it matters.” He looked back at me, “In the end, I’m exactly where I want to be - now.”

My heart, glowing as it beat a little bit faster, pumped blood straight to my face, as Max and I held each other’s gaze for what felt like too short a time. Though I’m sure it was at least a few minutes - until Max’s phone rang. On the TV, tires screeched, a horn honked, and just as Bella was about to get hit by a car, Edward jumped in front of her, denting the side of an oncoming van that surely would have crushed her against her truck.

We both laughed as I paused the movie and Max answered his phone.

“Yep, we’ll buzz you in. Thanks.”

Standing up while opening the buzzer app on his phone, he was completely naked. Save for the tie I left on him from our earlier shenanigans. I think I have a tie kink? Is that a thing? Max, abruptly aware that I was sitting on, and therefore hogging heretofore named Sex Afghan, giggled as he looked down at me, smiling doe-eyed as I gave him the up-down and the ‘how you doin’?’ Surveying the room, he paused as his gaze caught hold of something in the kitchen, drawing him there without a second to waste.

Trying not to be creepy, I decided to check my phone, instead of watching him walk away. Which technically, I did have my phone in my hand, I absolutely caught him in the corner of my eye as he sauntered towards the kitchen. Beauty, thy name is Max. However, I was truly tickled when he returned wearing my red floral robe, with the tie and the black socks. I couldn’t help but clap my hands together in joyful delight!

“Oh, you like this, huh?”

Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door and Max went to answer it, quietly talking to the person on the other side of the door, “Yeah - thanks. That’s for you, slugger - no change.”

“Thank you so much, sir! Have a good night!” came a disembodied voice from the hallway.

I jumped up and went to the kitchen, grabbing some plates, utensils, napkins - carrying them back to the living room, where Max was setting the bag of take out on the coffee table. We sat down together, looking at our spread and admiring the feast before us, each getting excited to serve each other from the next container that we’d opened, “Have you gotten any of this, yet?” - “Make sure you try these with this sauce!”

Hitting resume on Twilight, we contentedly consumed both food and questionable media. As I watched Max happily biting into a coxinha, I was overcome with a very pressing question, “Max?”

“Hmm?”

“Twilight is telling me that vampires don’t eat people-food, but here I am, watching you eat. What the fuck is going on here? This movie is based on a book, and books don’t lie. Who even are you?”

In a fake rage, Max slapped his coxinha on his plate and pointed at the tv, “That’s fake fucking news is what that is. FAKE. NEWS.”

Switching back to his pleasant smirk, complete with adorable dimple, “Vampires need blood. It’s like I said before about the extreme anemia and vitamin D deficiency. We don’t need food. Food is a want. Food is icing on the cake. Can you imagine how terrible eternity would be without being able to try new cuisines?”

He shook his head, clearly imagining a hellish future in which food was no longer an option as he took a big, greedy bite into the coxinha - cheese stretching from his hand to his mouth.

“That - makes me incredibly happy to know.” I beamed at him, glad for the small joys that remained in a life lived undead.

On screen, Edward and Bella were in the middle of the forest, as Bella queried her own vampire, “How long have you been 17?”

“A while.” Edward huskily breathed.

“I know what you are.” Bella said, accusingly.

“Say it.” Edward demanded. “Out loud. Say it.”

Gasping in an almost orgasmic tone, “Vampire!”

We both threw back our heads and laughed, and then I cut my laughing short, leaving Max to stop also, out of confusion. “How old are you?”

“Wait - what?”

“I need to know that I’m not dating someone who’s trying to groom me.”

“Well, in vampire years –” he started counting on his fingers, and I gave him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“Human years, Max! Human years!”

His mouth dropped open and he cried fake tears, holding his shoulder, “You’re so strong!” I squinted at him. “Okay, okay. I’m 42 in human-years. Not like a permanent 42, but I turned 42 this year. Also, I’m glad that we’re officially dating. Your words.”

He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, then popped a mini cheese bread in his mouth without breaking eye contact.

Relieved, I sighed, “Good. I refuse to date someone 80 plus years older than me. That’s not healthy.”

Max agreed, nodding while sipping his drink from a crazy straw he found in one of my kitchen drawers.

While we continued watching the movie, I had a few more questions for him, although I tried not to press too deeply, in case any subjects were still sensitive.

“Sparkly skin - yay or nay?”

“In the sun?” Max scoffed, “Vampires don't make a habit of going in the sun. It hurts. On account of the burning and the minor flames.”

“I was wondering about that –”

“I mean, I can go out in the sun.”

Puzzled, I stared at him, awaiting some clarification.

“Vampires aren’t the only things that exist that you wouldn’t normally expect in the natural world.”

“Do go on, I’m all ears.”

“Witches.”

He chuckled at my stunned pout, “Down in New Orleans, there’s a heavy presence of those who practice witchcraft, Wiccan, and so many other varieties of, well, magic. It’s incredible really. But the vampires and the witches down there also have an understanding - which allowed me to procure this –” he held up his left hand, pointing to a silver ring on his middle finger.

“It’s a Daylight Ring. Its enchantment allows me to go out in the daylight whenever I want, without suffering from the excruciating side effects of being ‘sun averse’ and prone to burning.”

Laughing, I couldn’t help but respond, “Of course - why shouldn’t magic exist in the world? And when you have magic, why not use it to create accessibility options for vampires? It’s pretty genius.”

Slogging through the rest of the movie, unable to get through more than a few minutes at a time without finding ourselves providing what we both deemed to be constructive criticisms, we reached a point where I found myself with even more questions for Max.

“Are werewolves really that much of an occupational hazard?”

“OH, you don’t even know.” Max started, “They stink, they pee everywhere, there’s a truce in place, but it’s extremely fragile.”

“Seriously? A truce? Who put that in place?” I laughed, incredulous at all of this new information I was learning.

“Well, there’s actually a vampiric council. You’ve got the international branch of course, and then there’s regional ones. I’m still learning about the specific regions, but the one I’m most familiar with is the one in Staten Island. They’re - not the brightest. But they are definitely a good time.”

“So, this type of weird pack, coven, roving roommate pod of vampires where they feel the need to establish boundaries and lay claim to certain areas is more bureaucratic than animalistic as portrayed in the film?”

“Uhhhh –” Max took a moment to think, “They can feel very protective of their familiars and that bond is generally respected, but boundaries? They kinda don’t give a shit, unless someone is messing with their specific living space. Kinda like humans, honestly. Familiars are pets, don’t fuck with them. And stay off their lawn.”

“That sounds - surprisingly reasonable?” I waved my hand at the tv, “As opposed to whatever is going on here. Dramaaaa!”

Biting his lip, snickering, Max took my plate and set it on the coffee table, pulling me close to him as he set a throw pillow in his lap. Urging me to lay my head down, he gently started brushing his fingers along the hairline of my forehead, behind my ear, and down my neck. Repeating the motion, he continued to stroke my hair, occasionally using the tips of his fingers to massage along the back of my neck, as we finished the movie. Or, at least I think we finished the movie.

It felt like I just closed my eyes for a second, but when I opened them again, the tv volume was way down. On screen Bella, Jacob, and Edward were in some sort of heated threesome argument, with Edward begging Bella to come with him, Jacob making empty threats, and Bella asking Edward to read Jacob’s mind, because that’s obviously not a violation of anyone’s privacy.

Stretching, yawning, I asked, “Is this New Moon? Did you turn on the second movie?”

“Ehhhh —” Max hemmed, not entirely eager to answer, “Yeah. It is. It’s not - great. But it is a challenge to look away. It’s like when all the cars stop on the road when there’s some unfortunate incident, and everybody can’t help but slow down and look. I want to look away, but I’m powerless for some reason. Also, you were like a kitten in my lap, I couldn’t move while you slept - you seemed like you really needed it. I was kinda hostage to these movies.”

I guffawed, “Ha! Sure, absolutely. Nothing else to stream, huh?”

He gave me a playful warning ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’ between his teeth, shaking his head and narrowing his eyes down at me.

Taking the hint, I casually changed the subject.

“This mind reading business - is that a thing? Can you do that? I mean, sometimes you’re –”

Max laughed, interrupting me.

“No, no, no. That’s not a thing. Not for vampires at least, as far as I know. Our senses are heightened - taste, touch, smell, sound, sight…”

“And the sixth sense? Dead people?”

“Yes, but not in the way you’re hoping.” He said with a huge grin. “Unless, you want to find out?”

The way he phrased it was extremely flirtatious, but my inner instinct felt like the subject matter was - not? He can make anything sexy. Is that another vampire thing or just a Max thing? I wondered to myself, unsure whether or not to dissect the sexual innuendo of that last statement outloud.

A smile curled upwards on Max’s lips, “Your heart rate just rose.”

Putting my hand over my heart, as though I could hide it, he cackled, “It never gets old. Watching your changing expressions and how you react to me.”

Frowning up at him, he leaned down and kissed me, as one hand snaked its way into mine, stretching in between my fingers, flexing in and out. We continued our slow kiss, until the opening chords of House of the Rising Sun broke our focus and our calm.

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Leaning back up, Max stretched, reaching for his phone and shutting off the music.

“Alarm.” He sighed, looking back down at me, “Time for this vampire to turn back into a salesman.”

As I sat up, I turned so that I could face him - lifting my hand up to stroke his cheek, and he nestled into my hand, kissing my palm.

“Thank you for tonight, Max. Thank you for the beautiful new lingerie, dinner, the –” I spelled it out and exaggeratedly whispered, as though we’d done something unforgivable, “S-E-X.”

“Anytime and every time, Sweetness.” Giving me a wink and a kiss on the forehead before he stood up, “I’m wearing this back to my apartment,” indicating my red floral robe.

I frowned at him, unsure how I felt about him stealing one of my favorite clothing items, but then he took his right hand and lifted the right side lapel to his nose, sniffing deeply.

“It smells like you.”

Geezus, fuck. That was hot.

“Oh, oh. Okay, sure.” I nodded, suddenly very fine with it.

He gathered his clothing from the pile we’d left in the kitchen, and taking his white button up, he placed it around my shoulders, as I put my arms inside the sleeves.

“I want to see you in this later. Just this.”

Mimicking what he’d done with my robe, as we walked to the door, I gave him a curt response, “I suppose that can be arranged.”

He stared at me, mouth open slightly, for about 30 seconds before saying, “No. No - I’ve gotta go.” And pulled me in close for a quick kiss on the lips, before heading down the hallway. Turning around to throw me a cheeky smirk, he looked sufficiently ridiculous and somehow very, very spicy in the robe, socks, and tie.

Closing the door behind him, I proceed to walk over to the couch, where I picked up my sequined Nic Cage pillow, smoothing down all the sequins, before calmly jamming it against my face and giving a pleased groan, “Oh My Goooooood!”

Why did he make me feel like such a teenager?

My dopamine levels soaring, I knew I needed to pull myself down from these heights so that I could get some sleep. Lighting a lavender & sage candle, I started the shower, and put on a random selection of albums by neo-psychedelic surf-pop band, La Luz.

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“They love you today, soon they’ve gone away. You will know me by the way, I won’t ever hesitate.”

Crooning along to the trippy tunes, I thought about Max’s life as a vampire, “If the golden glow simmers into black and leaves you reeling. I won’t take it back. When I say I’m yours, you know I mean it.”

I stepped out of the shower, and remembering the melancholic undercurrents that he so coolly skated over in our earlier conversation about his vampiric lifestyle, I considered what I’d want my options to be. To at least have a companion, someone dear with me to spend the rest of time, to explore the world, to always consider that person my special place to hang my heart and call home. Forever is a long time to be a strong, independent person, who doesn’t need anyone else.

All this time that we were spending together, made me wonder if Max was flirting with the idea of turning me? Not once had he brought it up, so this would certainly be presumptuous on my part to expect him to make such an offer. From what I’ve seen of him, he doubtless goes after what he wants. Albeit, he has been very considerate of my feelings, my boundaries, my wants and needs. But I’m putting the cart before the horse - would I even say yes to that proposition?

Dressing in my silk night set, I grabbed my journal. Let’s write this out - maybe a stream of consciousness poem will help me to work out how I feel. Putting pen to paper, I thought about the way his jaw clenched a bit, right before his mouth turned up into a smile on one side, his dimple becoming prominent. The way it warmed me up from the inside out when he teased me, making my stomach drop like I’d just gone down the biggest hill on a rollercoaster, my fingers tingling, and my face a bit dizzy with the rush of blood to my cheeks.

In the warmth of your smile, I melt like wax rolling down the edge of a candle. Flame licked and flickering under your glow. If I’m not careful you might soften what the world made hard in me. If I’m not careful the fire in you might jump my wick. But maybe, that’s how we were meant to meet - your flame igniting what was intended to be consumed, illuminating my darkness - bringing light to my nights.

Hmmm. I scrunched up my nose as I read over the words. Not entirely sure that made anything clearer - I closed my journal, and opted to sleep on it.

To be continued...

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#Pedro Pascal is a sexy vampire!#Max Phillips x afab!fem!reader #Bloodsucking Bastards FanFic #NOT Twilight #GTFO Renesmé #Endometriosis Awareness #Adenomyosis Awareness

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super-predictable98 · 2 months

Text

Smile, Simone (OC X Canon Kiss Week 2024)

Word count: 3,6k

Warning: manipulation, mention of death, Kilgrave being a creep

A/n: This is a collab with my partner in crime @jozstankovich for @theocxcanonweek day 5: Getting into trouble. The characters from this story are part of our little Timeline Anomaly Verse (more about them in here) and a crossover of Bad Samaritan and Jessica Jones. Hope you all enjoy it <3

[Masterlist]

Simone had a short walk from her university to the flat, only a few minutes, she stopped to buy herself a hot chocolate and a croissant for her father from his favorite bakery.

Little did she realize, across the street a tall, slender man in a chic purple suit watched her with interest, his dark eyes following her movements as a small grin played at his lips. As she stepped out of the bakery he approached.

“Hello there,” he drawled, tipping his head slightly in greeting. “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are,” he murmured, taking her hand to place a kiss to the back of it.

"Um... thanks," Simone chuckled until she saw him. That face, she knew that face from her nightmares. A man with that face once tormented her father and she knew he died, but in that world full of clones and odd powers, she never knew who was what. "I- bye."

“Wait—“ the man exclaimed, a frown creasing the spot between his brows. “Don’t go,” he demanded, assured that she would obey.

She couldn't move, she tried to keep walking, but her feet wouldn't obey. "Let me go, please, I have a boyfriend."

The man chuckled. “Not anymore, you don’t,” he drawled, holding out his arm for her to take. “Let me take you out—?” he asked, waiting for her to supply her name.

"Simone, Simone Falco," she said before she could stop herself. His allure did something to her brain and suddenly she took his arm, certain that her boyfriend Dylan, wasn't in her life anymore.

“Mmm Simone,” he repeated, savouring the taste of her name on his tongue. “Your name is just as beautiful as you,” he purred, brushing his lips against her temple, inhaling her scent.

“You can call me Kilgrave,” he said, slipping an arm around the small of her back as he began to lead her away from her intended destination. “I think we need to get you some new clothes and then some lunch. I know a wonderful place. You’ll love it,” he said with certainty.

"Y-yeah, I just... need to let my father know I won't come home now, he's expecting me. Can I call him?" She asked quietly, following him to God knows where to do something she didn't even wanna think about.

Kilgrave frowned as he deliberated. “I suppose that’s alright, darling,” he finally answered, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “But you’ll only say what I tell you to say,” he instructed.

"Yes," she dialed, trusting that her dad would know something was wrong and check her location, which was always on. "What should I say?"

“Tell him, you’re staying with a friend for a few days, that you’ll be at a mind/body retreat and you won’t have access to your phone,” Kilgrave said, walking at a leisurely pace, leading her to his waiting town car.

Simone nodded and dialed her dad's number, but the person who picked up was her mother.

"Hey, Moony. Daddy's in the shower, do you need anything?" Blossom asked.

"Yes, can I talk to him please?" She kept her voice calm, or tried.

"Okay... Sean! Simone is on the phone, she sounds dead weird!"

Sean frowned, quickly twisting the water off and grabbing his towel, wrapping it around his waist and taking the phone, bringing it to his ear. “Moony, it’s me. You okay, darlin’?” He asked, his hair dripping down his shoulders.

"Yeah, Daddy, I'm okay. I just called to let you know I won't be home in time," she put on a smile, trying very hard not to cry. "I'll be with a friend in a spiritual retreat and I won't be able to use my phone there for a few days. Just didn't want you to worry."

“What d’yeh mean? What friend?” Sean demanded, his unease growing. “Why don’t you come home and we can talk about this, you can give us more details,” he pleaded, not liking the way her voice trembled. “Where are you?” He asked, his chest growing tight.

"My friend... Ellery," Simone said the name of her cousin, this way he could easily call her and disprove this story. "Sorry, Daddy, I'm late, I really have to get going. I'm on my way there."

"Wait--! Simone!" Sean cried, but she'd already hung up. "Blossom! Something's wrong!" he called, trying to call Ellery, though his hands were shaking too much for him to dial the number.

"Oh my God... what number are you trying to call? Ellery?" Blossom took the phone to dial for him. "What happened to Simone?"

"Yeah," Sean said, handing her the phone, running his hand through his wet curls. "You were right, she didn't sound right," he said. "She said she was going on a spiritual retreat with Ellery and wouldn't be able to answer her phone. She sounded scared. I think she was taken," he said, his voice shaking as much as his hands.

"This is bollocks, she can't spend a day without her phone," Blossom called her niece. "Ellery! Ellery, are you with Simone right now?"

"No," the girl answered, giving her twin brother a confused look. "Charlie and I are buying Valentine's presents."

"Did she ever mention a spiritual retreat to you? Somewhere she couldn't take her phone to?"

"No... is everything alright? Just stay there, we're on our way."

*****

"Good girl," Kilgrave said, stroking Simone's hair before taking her phone from her hand and dropping it to the ground in the middle of the street before pulling her into the car with him and shutting the door, telling the driver where to take them.

"I- That's my phone!" She cried, she hated to be that helpless and now nobody would be able to track her. "All my father's voice-mails are there, I need them!"

"You don't need them," Kilgrave said offhandedly, annoyed at her outburst. "I'll make sure you have everything you need, love," he assured her, pulling her to his side, his hand running up and down her arm.

"What are you gonna do to me? You say buying clothes and having lunch. What are you really planning?" Simone asked, surprised that the driver seemed hypnotized as well.

"Darling, you're with me now," he said, chuckling lightly. "I just want to lavish you, make you mine," he explained, taking her chin in his hand to turn her face toward his to kiss her.

Simone tried to pull away, but she didn't know where to run, she was stuck in the car. "Have you ever considered... I don't know, asking someone out without forcing them? You're not bad looking, I'm sure many women would be happy to go out with you."

Kilgrave clicked his tongue with a shake of his head, as if the girl had just said something foolish. “But I don’t want just any woman. I want you. Are you saying that you would’ve said yes, if I’d have simply asked you?” He asked.

"Maybe... well not really. I had a boyfriend, and you look like the man who tried to kill my dad. But I'm sure a much more beautiful girl would've said yes," she mumbled.

“What do you mean, a more beautiful girl?” He drawled, frowning at her comment. “You are beautiful, Simone. More gorgeous than you realize. I want you to tell me that you’re beautiful,” he purred.

"I am beautiful," she repeated, unable to resist his order. It wasn't hard to understand he had the power of persuasion.

"Good girl," Kilgrave murmured, stroking her cheek. "Ah, we're here," he said, as the car pulled up to the curb in front of Bloomingdale's.

*****

Sean hastily dried off, pulling his clothes on distractedly. "Should we call the police?" he asked, hating how helpless he felt.

"We need to know where she is first and sending cops might spook whoever has her and they might hurt her," Blossom started dialing to call her sister-in-law, Alisha. "We're a superpowered family, we've all killed to protect each other."

He nodded, feeling numb. He was the only one without a power, there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment except trust his wife. —

"Alisha, we need a little help, can you find Simone for us?" Blossom asked while she opened the door for her niece and nephew.

"I... she's in a car, there's a man with her. Purple suit, looks posh," Alisha said, using her clairvoyance to see through her niece's eyes. "I don't know exactly where they are though."

“Okay, keep checking in and let us know if you recognize anything,” Sean said, leaning in over his wife’s shoulder.

"Okay, I'll call you if I see anything," Alisha confirmed.

"We have all possible powers to save her," Ellery pulled her brother inside. "Where are we going?"

"We don't know where she is yet," Sean answered, fighting the urge to pace. "Alisha said she's in a car right now."

"In a car with a man she doesn't know," Blossom started crying just as her husband's phone started ringing. Sean pulled her into his arms, his jaw flexing as he fought not to break down as well, knowing he needed to be strong for her. "Does she know where Simone is?" he asked, his voice tense.

"Hi, Aunt Lisha, any news?" Ellery quickly grabbed her uncle's phone.

"They just stopped at Bloomingdale's, I don't know which one exactly, but it looks like 5th Avenue, it's right in front of the Bank of America."

"Bloomingdale's 5th Avenue, c'mon, let's go!" Charlie exclaimed, already heading for the door.

"We need a cab," Ellery stepped outside and rushed down the stairs. The rest of them followed and they all ran to the intersection with the 8th Avenue to hail a cab. The drive would be ten minutes if they were lucky to avoid traffic, which in New York was basically impossible.

“Hopefully they’ll still be there,” Charlie murmured, his leg bouncing anxiously.

*****

"Why do I need new clothes?" Simone asked calmly, almost in a docile way. "These are pretty expensive..."

"Why not?" Kilgrave said, waiting for the driver to open his door. "Come," he instructed, holding out his hand for her as he waited on the curb.

"Do I need an excuse to spoil my girl?" he chuckled. "You deserve only the best," he explained.

"T-thank you," Simone took his hand and locked arms with him as they entered the store. She wasn't dressed exactly nicely and felt really out of place. She wore leggings and one of her dad's shirts since, at uni, they were doing nature shots.

“Ah, what about this? This colour would look beautiful on you,” Kilgrave said, picking out a sleek purple dress. “Go on, try it on, and I’ll pick out some shoes for you,” he said, stroking her cheek fondly.

"Okay," she took it and went into one of the dressing rooms. She wanted to cry, but feared that it would upset her new captor and he might do something worse. She put on the dress and opened the door to show him how it looked.

"Ohh, don't you look like a vision!" Kilgrave exclaimed, moving closer to get a better look. "Here, try these on, you'll look perfect," he said, handing her some strappy heels.

Simone nodded and quickly put the shoes on, which made her stand as tall as him. "I don't usually wear heels," she admitted.

"You should, they make your legs look so graceful," he said, picking out a luxurious long fur coat and draping it over her shoulders. "There, all set," he decided, taking her hand and leading her back out of the store.

"Hey! You can't leave without paying for those!" One of the shopkeepers exclaimed, hurrying after them.

"You're going to give them to us, free of charge," Kilgrave snapped, waving the woman away, leaving her bewildered. "Are you hungry?" he asked Simone, turning his attention back to her as they stepped back out onto the crowded sidewalk, his car waiting for them.

I'm wearing the skin of a dead animal on my back and I technically just stole all of this... Simone thought, panicked.

"Yeah, I haven't eaten today," she said, despite how nauseous she was from the whole semi-kidnapping experience. She anxiously looked around to see if she could find any familiar faces, but the entire world felt like a strange place at that moment.

"There she is!" Sean cried, spotting his daughter's face amidst the sea of people. Jumping out of the cab before it came to a complete stop, he ran toward her, trying to push his way through the crowd. "Simone!" he exclaimed, trying to get her attention.

"Daddy?" She cried, the knot in her chest tightening when she saw how worried he seemed. She wanted to run into his arms and never let go.

"Simone! Come here! What are you wearing?" Blossom followed her husband out. "You! Let go of my daughter right now! Get away from her!"

“Ah, looks like that’s our cue to leave,” Kilgrave muttered, turning Simone’s face away from her parents and stealing a sloppy kiss before sweeping her back into the back of his sleek black car. “Driver, take us to Neary’s,” he instructed, slamming the door shut and wiggling his fingers in a little wave just as Sean and Blossom reached the car.

Simone fought the urge to cry again, her head hanging low. She was so close to being able to run away... she knew she wasn't the first girl to fall into Kilgrave's trap, she wondered where the others were. Were they stuck in a harem or even worse?

"Did you see him? Cale Erendreich doppelganger... he kissed her! She didn't pull away, she didn't fight it," Blossom panted, she was not as fast as she used to be when she was younger.

“There has to be an explanation,” Sean exclaimed, his chest hurting. He’d seen the fear on his daughter’s face as the car pulled away.

“Uncle Sean! We know where he’s going!” Charlie exclaimed, running to catch up. “Aunt Lisha called. She knows where he’s taking her!”

"They're going to Neary's, five minutes away," Ellery hailed another cab for them. If it was just her and her brother they could run, but their uncle was pushing 60.

"Let's go, let's go!" Blossom rushed into the car.

*****

“What’s the matter, dearest?” Kilgrave asked, tilting his head to peer at Simone’s face. “Don’t tell me you’re upset?”

"I just... got startled," she said shaking her head, she looked up at him and tried to smile.

He smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze before pressing a kiss to the back of it. The drive to the restaurant wasn't long and once they parked, Kilgrave helped Simone out, leading her into the building.

"Do you have a reservation?" The hostess asked, looking between the two of them.

"Yes, we're renting out the whole place. Tell everyone else to leave," Kilgrave commanded and the hostess nodded.

"You can all leave!" He exclaimed, raising his voice to infect the other diners and they all got up, leaving their food half touched as they left. "There, shall we?" he asked, leading Simone over to his usual corner booth.

She sat down and glanced at the menu, the food smelled and sounded delicious, but how could she eat in that situation? She could always... accept it, she'd live her life like this and maybe it wouldn't be so bad? It wasn't what she wanted, but if he treated her the way she had been so far... maybe he wouldn't kill her. Maybe she could visit her family and smile while saying everything was fine.

"Can I order what I want or will you order for me?" She asked, genuinely curious. "Cause if I can choose I'd like the broiled chicken with potatoes."

"Of course, you can have whatever you like," Kilgrave exclaimed, leaning back in the booth, his arm resting behind Simone's shoulders.

By the time Sean, Blossom, Ellery, and Charlie arrived at the restaurant, the other diners were all filing out.

"That's strange, where are they all going?" Charlie wondered.

"Doesn't seem like anything is wrong in there," Ellery looked inside and found her cousin sitting in a corner.

"Simone!" Blossom called. "Simone, please! If you actually want to be here, tell us!"

"I want to be here," she said after Kilgrave whispered the command in her ear.

“If you try to escape, you’ll jump off the Queensboro Bridge,” Kilgrave hissed in Simone’s ear, taking a bite of his steak, seemingly unbothered.

“Look, he just said something to her before she spoke,” Charlie whispered, noticing the way the man leaned in. “If he has the power of persuasion, then maybe I can use it against him,” he suggested.

"Good one, Charlie," Ellery nudged her brother's arm.

"Let my daughter go, right now! I'm not above killing you, you bastard!" Blossom charged into the restaurant. "She's old enough to be your daughter!"

Kilgrave spread his hands innocently. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, she told you already, she wants to be here."

"Then why does she look so terrified?" Sean exclaimed, hating the way his hands shook as he looked at the man who looked so much like the ghost from his past.

"I can't leave, Mum," Simone cried. "I just can't."

"You can do anything, you have a superpower. You're really gonna let some middle-aged man tell you what you can or can't do?" Ellery whispered to her. "No matter what happens, you're safe."

"Come on, let's call Dylan," Blossom took her daughter's hand, but once she got up, the girl ran away towards the bridge to fulfill Kilgrave's request.

“Simone?!” Sean exclaimed, his eyes widening in fear as she raced past him out the restaurant door. “SIMONE!” he called, taking off after her without another thought.

While his uncle ran after Simone, Charlie rounded on Kilgrave. “What did you make her do?” He demanded.

Kilgrave shrugged. “She was the one who chose to run. If she’d rather jump off the bridge than stay with me, that’s her prerogative, I suppose.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his aquiline nose. “And here I thought we could be happy together.”

"You're sick!" Ellery screamed while Blossom ran out to follow her daughter as well. "Man, you're not ugly enough to be that desperate, find someone who can love you for real."

“Is that an offer?” Kilgrave asked, flashing Ellery a grin. "Seems beauty runs in the family..."

Before the man could control his twin, Charlie frowned, drawing on his own power. He could feel the vibration of Kilgrave’s power pulling at him and he reached out with his mind, borrowing his ability.

“Hey,” he said, drawing the man’s attention. “Forget all about us. Forget about your power. Don’t use it for bad,” he commanded.

"Let's get out of here," Ellery took her brother's arm. "Hope he learns his lesson. He definitely knows how to treat a lady, he just needs to find one that wants to be with him."

Charlie nodded, letting his sister pull him out of the restaurant and they ran to join their uncle and aunt.

*****

"Simone!" Blossom ran, catching up to them just as she climbed to jump. She looked back at her mum and dad and smiled, her cousin's words made her very confident.

“Moony, what’re you doing? Please come down!” Sean cried, his heart twisting in his chest as he held onto his wife. “We can fix this! Please don’t jump!”

"Sean... it's alright," Blossom understood her plan, she had done it before with the power she passed down to her daughter.

"See you in a second, don't worry about me," Simone waved and let go, falling as if she were diving into a pool.

To stop herself from hitting the water, she covered her own body in a force field and emerged back to the bridge covered in a thin blue-ish bubble.

As soon as Simone emerged, protected in her bubble, Sean let out a relieved gasp, his arms tightening around his wife. “Oh thank God she’s okay,” he cried, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

Simone ran into her parents' arms and sighed. She didn't even realize she was still wearing the outfit that was picked out for her.

"We should probably return these stuff to Bloomingdale's, right?" She asked.

"But the dress is cute..." Ellery joked. "He won't be bothering you again."

"Yeah, I made sure of that," Charlie assured her, joining the others in embracing her.

"Thank you, Cha-Charlie," Sean murmured, ruffling his nephew's curls. "I'm so fuckin' glad you all have those damn powers," he sighed, kissing the top of Simone's head.

"Thank you for coming for me," she looked lovingly at her cousins and her mother, then turned and placed a kiss on her father's cheek. "You're a hero too, Daddy."

Sean shook his head. "I was so helpless," he murmured, squeezing her tighter.

"Not all heroes have powers, some just are really amazing dads," she held his hand as they walked back to the store. "You weren't hopeless, you didn't give up. I called you because I knew you'd know something was wrong and come help, and you did."

"Of course, I'd never give up on you, darlin'," Sean breathed.

#kilgrave #kilgrave x canon #sean falco #jessica jones #bad samaritan #oc: Simone Falco #oc: Blossom Falco #oc: Charlie Young #oc: Ellery Young #fanfic #jessica jones fanfic #david tennant fanfic #oc x canon week #ocxcanonweek #fic collab #timeline anomaly verse

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hawkinsglasscloset · 2 months

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Practice Run (OC X Canon Kiss Week 2024)

Word count: 2k

Warning: none

A/n: My second collab with the most amazing @mrprettywhenhecries for @theocxcanonweek day 6: An Intimate Moment. This is part of our Stranger Timeline Verse with Stranger Things characters. Hope you all enjoy it <3

[Masterlist]

"If you had to pick a boy from school to date... who would you pick?" Blossom asked, not sure if she'd wanna know the answer. She was lying on her stomach, flipping through a magazine in Robin's bedroom where they held one of many slumber parties.

"Uh..." Robin hesitated, not knowing what to say. She was so tired of lying to her best friend about her feelings, but what was she supposed to say? That she was in love with her?

"I don't think I'd pick anyone. They're all either ugly or boring, the only nice and sorta good-looking one is Dustin but he's too young for me," Blossom murmured. Truth was she never liked a girl before, but when Robin was there she felt... something different.

"Yeah, me either. They're all too... immature," she exclaimed, glad that Blossom had answered the way she had, not only to find out she didn't like anyone else, but so she could latch onto her answer as well.

Blossom sat up to face Robin with a little smirk. "But have you ever dated anyone?" The question definitely had ulterior motives, she desperately wanted to know if her friend liked someone and if so, what her type was.

"Not... exactly. Okay, no, I haven't," Robin exclaimed, making a face. "Have you?" She wondered reluctantly.

"I've dated one guy but it didn't last too long..." Blossom murmured. "It was just a little weird with him, you know? Like that's not how it's meant to be."

“Oh?” Robin asked, perking up before quickly clearing her throat. “I mean, why was it weird?” She asked, crossing her legs under her.

"He didn't treat me like I wanted to be treated, I felt attracted to him, but... it's like boys have a few nice bits and are attached to the rest, which is trash."

Robin couldn’t help but laugh. “I won’t disagree with you there,” she snorted.

"But um... does that mean you never kissed a boy before?" Blossom asked, feeling a little flutter in her stomach, even though she didn't fully understand it.

“I’ve… never kissed anyone,” she admitted, her face flaring brightly and suddenly feeling very hot, her palms starting to sweat.

A little gasp left Blossom's lips when she noticed how flushed (and absolutely adorable) her friend was.

"That's okay, everyone has their moment, nothing wrong with that," she assured. "But I don't get it. You're so beautiful, you're like... waking up in the morning and seeing the most wonderful day out the window. Your smile is like the sun, your freckles are so cute, and your eyes are gorgeous! Who wouldn't wanna kiss you?"

“I—“ Robin’s voice faltered and she only felt more flustered. “I’m none of those things!” She exclaimed, bleating an awkward laugh.

"You are though, you're also intelligent and funny and kind. You're like the whole package, anyone who doesn't ask you out is stupid."

Oh my God, it's me... I'm stupid, was all Blossom could think.

“You’re biased cause you’re my friend,” Robin argued, trying to calm her racing heart. Why did it feel like her friend meant all those things she’d said… in more than a friendly way?

"If you were ugly and uninteresting, I could've just kept my mouth shut so I wouldn't hurt your feelings," Blossom pointed out. "I'm not the most experienced kisser ever, but I mean... I know a few things if you ever want tips."

"Oh, uh, what kind of tips?" Robin asked, intrigued, but a little nervous.

"I don't know, like what to do with your tongue and your hands... stuff I wish I knew before," Blossom shrugged.

"Okay, I guess I could use all the help I can get, though I really doubt I'll be kissing anyone soon..." she mumbled.

"You never know. I'd tell you to let the other person take the lead. Your tongue shouldn't be too present, but also not stiff. Try to caress the neck or the hair with your hands so it adds to the sensation."

"Wait, how do you mean, your tongue shouldn't be stiff?" Robin chuckled, a little confused by her explanation.

"If can't be stiff, like hard. It needs to be relaxed, but not relaxed like a thirsty dog just... soft."

"I think I get what you mean, but it's hard to really understand without doing it, I guess," Robin mumbled, looking down at her legs when she realized how that sounded -- like she wanted Blossom to show her.

"Why don't you try it? I can show you... just for practice," the other girl suggested, trying to sound extra casual, as if she wouldn't jump at the first chance to kiss her best friend.

Robin's face flared bright red. "Wait, what?" she exclaimed, swallowing thickly, hastily trying to work moisture back into her mouth.

"Sorry, that was a stupid idea. I'm so sorry, I just thought... it would be easier to show you with practice," Blossom had to resist the urge to hide under a pillow, she felt like such a creep.

"N-no! No, it's okay! It just took me by surprise is all," Robin exclaimed quickly, not wanting her friend to feel bad. However, she also didn't want her to know how eager she was to kiss her. "We can do that," she said, having to take a steadying breath.

"You don't have to if you think it would be gross or something," Blossom murmured, moving closer to her and taking her hand.

"I don't think it would be gross," Robin assured her, a little too insistently. "So... how do we...?" She murmured, barely able to breathe as they shifted closer.

"Just relax and give it a try like this," Blossom whispered slowly approaching her until their lips touched softly. The kiss was slow and delicate, almost as if they moved in slow motion.

Robin didn't think her face could get any hotter, she nearly felt as if she were about to faint. Blossom's lips were softer than she could imagine, and she had imagined.

Slowly, Blossom parted her lips and her tongue found Robin's. She didn't mind her inexperience, it didn't take away from the moment and how amazing it felt. That was definitely what a kiss was meant to feel like.

“Oh—“ Robin gasped as her friend's tongue brushed softly against hers, but she didn’t pull away, her hands balling in the blanket beneath her, fighting the urge to kiss her deeper and make a fool of herself by shoving her tongue down her throat.

"That was pretty good," Blossom finally pulled away, looking quite red in the face. "But you can use more of your tongue, that was a little shy. Let's try one more time."

“I was just afraid of-of using too much,” Robin replied shakily, wetting her lips before leaning back in.

"It's okay, if it's too much, I'll let you know," Blossom murmured, burying her fingers into the other girl's hair. This kiss felt more passionate, more heated. Even though it was just for practice... of course.

Robin's breath hitched as she leaned into the kiss, feeling a little more confident this time, her hands grasping at the other girl's waist, losing herself for a moment in the kiss.

And just like that, nothing else mattered, it felt like they were meant to be, two princesses in a romance novel. Nothing had ever felt more right. "Yeah, I think you got it," Blossom breathed. "That was perfect."

"Oh, right," Robin breathed, coming back to her senses as they parted, remembering that this was just practice and that it wasn't supposed to mean anything. "You really think so?" she asked, trying to steady her voice, not wanting her friend to catch the hint of disappointment behind her words.

"I do, I think anyone would be very lucky to kiss you," Blossom said, fighting tears as she realized Robin would probably never want to kiss her again. Maybe she should've lied and said it wasn't good enough... just to get a few more practice runs.

"Wait, B, are you okay?" Robin exclaimed, noticing the tears caught in her lashes. "What's wrong?" She asked, her chest suddenly tight with worry, afraid she'd upset her.

"I'm fine, really, I'm okay," Blossom nodded, wiping her eyes quickly and looking the other way. "I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. So silly."

"Hey, you're not silly," Robin insisted, gently turning the other girl's face back to her and instinctively reaching out to brush the tears from her cheek. "Please tell me?" She whispered.

"I can't," she murmured, more tears rolling down her cheeks. "If I tell you, you might never wanna see me again or be my friend and I can't do that."

"Nothing you could tell me would make me not wanna be your friend anymore," Robin assured her, nearly choking on her words, her hands still cupping her friend's face. "Even if you killed someone. I'd help you hide the body," she joked though her voice wavered.

"I never felt like this before," Blossom started, taking a deep breath to gather the courage to admit what had been in her mind for months. "But when I'm with you it's like the rest of the world doesn't matter and everything is perfect. You fix what I never knew was broken... I like you."

Robin blinked. She suddenly felt like she'd been dunked in an ice bath. She had to be dreaming. All the times she'd imagined Blossom saying those words, she'd never really thought it would happen.

"You... do?" She breathed, almost afraid to speak, afraid if she did the bubble would pop and the dream would end.

"I do, I think you're the coolest, most amazing, prettiest girl in the world. Not an army of Daryl Hannahs and Sissy Spaceks could change my mind. Your laugh and your voice are the first things I wanna hear in the morning and the last I wanna hear before bed."

Robin's eyes fluttered, a tear rolling down her cheek and when she opened her mouth to speak a sob came out instead. "I like you too, Blossom," she finally whispered, her voice cracking. "I've liked you for so long, but I was afraid--"

"I was afraid! I thought you liked that boy from Canada you told me about. I didn't know exactly what was going on, I've liked boys before, but I like you. I don't know if that means I'm a lesbian... a half lesbian? Is there such thing as a half lesbian?"

"I only made him up because I didn't want you to think I was pathetic. This whole time, I only liked you," Robin exclaimed, letting out a wet laugh. "I think that means you're bisexual," she said, pressing an overjoyed kiss to Blossom's mouth, kissing her urgently.

The other girl, in turn, kissed her back with the same enthusiasm, almost getting on top of her as she caressed the back of her neck and her dirty blonde hair.

"You could never be pathetic, you're like... like a gorgeous mermaid goddess that I can't get enough of," she giggled.

Robin let out a full-bodied laugh. "You're the gorgeous mermaid goddess!" she exclaimed, kissing all over Blossom's face giddily. "Fuck, I can't believe this is really happening!" she cried, holding tightly to the other girl.

"Me neither, you're like a dream," Blossom leaned against her shoulder. "I wanna keep you all to myself and never share with anyone ever again."

"I'm okay with that," Robin laughed. "Does that mean... we're girlfriends?" she wondered, falling to the bed with the other girl in her arms.

"I think it does... we're girlfriends!" Blossom shrieked in excitement. "You're all mine now! This is perfect."

Robin couldn't stop the giddy laughter that filled her chest and she pressed her forehead to her girlfriend's, her cheeks hurting from how much she was smiling. "You know... I think I might need some more practice at this kissing thing. Think you could help me some more?" She teased, tracing the line of Blossom's jaw with her finger.

"What sort of teacher would I be if I refused?" She winked, pulling her closer again.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfic #robin buckley #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x oc #oc: Blossom Bellamy #otp: Beluckley #fanfic #one shot #fic collab #oc x canon week #ocxcanonweek

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bookgeekgrrl · 4 months

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My media this week (14-20 Jan 2024)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

Death in Soho (Augusta Peel #1) (Emily Organ, author; Sarah Nichols, narrator) - acceptable cozy mystery set post-WWI. Perfectly cromulent and will probably read another when I'm craving an uncomplicated read. Did appreciate that Miss Peel is middle-aged, not an ingenue/flapper

Ever Since New York (AHM1121) - 94K, shrunkyclunks omegaverse - just a really satisfying omegaverse fic, loved these versions of them

Running on Air (eleventy7) - 74K, drarry - it's 8 yrs post-war, draco's been missing for 3 of them and harry's been assigned the cold case. There's driving and melancholy and eventually sorting out feelings and stuff

💖💖 +199K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Quench (AidaRonan) - MCU: shrunkyclunks, 9K - reread, all time forever fave with possibly my fave description of thick steve: 'built like a mack truck made out of ribeye' (all the simile action in this fic is fantastic tbh)

This Light-Struck Country (TentacleParty) - The Witcher: eskel/oc (monster), 18K - some truly quality monsterfucking

sunrise supplications (liadan14) - The Old Guard: kaysanova, 12K - great modern AU enemies-to-lovers with a very clever spin on joe & nicky's canonical meeting

Slow Boat to China (Penguinjava) - A Charm of Magpies series (KJ Charles): Merrick & Lucien, 7K - wonderful vignette of the boat trip to china after lucien's horrible father banished them & the foundation of their relationship

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Brooklyn Nine-Nine - s8, e1-4

Dirty Laundry - s3, e10

D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Summer Breakdown" (s21, e2)

D20: Adventuring Party - "Fs Get Defgrees" (s16, e2)

Mrs Sidhu Investigates - s1, e1-4

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

⭐ Desert Island Discs - Greta Gerwig, writer and director

What Next: TBD - Is Your Car Tracking You?

Ologies with Alie Ward - Carcinology (CRABS) Part 1 with Adam Wall

Pop Culture Happy Hour - Our Emmys Recap

Switched on Pop - Soundalikes: Lil Nas X and Ariana Grande

⭐ The Sporkful - The Hidden Battle Over Grocery Store Shelves

99% Invisible #566 - Imitation Nation

Code Switch - The women who masterminded the Montgomery Bus Boycott

⭐ Films To Be Buried With - Joel Kim Booster

Just One Thing - Take Vitamin D

NPR's Book of the Day - 'The Golden Screen' chronicles the films that shaped the Asian American diaspora

Vibe Check - Wesley Morris, or Wesley Snipes?

Welcome to Night Vale - Bonus Ep: Riddle Guy

NPR's Book of the Day - 'The Frozen River' tells the fictionalized story of a real 18th century midwife

Sara & Cariad's Weirdos Book Club - Monsters: A Fan's Dilemma by Claire Dederer with Winnie M Li

Today, Explained - How the war in Gaza ends

99% Invisible - Power Broker #01: Robert Caro

Dear Prudence - I Spend Hours a Day Having Intense Romantic Daydreams. Help!

Endless Thread - Where's the Beef?

What Next: TBD - The Great British Library Hack

It's Been a Minute - The political power of white Evangelicals; plus, Biden and the Black church

Under the Influence with Terry O'Reilly - When Bad Commercials Become Cult Classics

Wait Wait… Don't Tell Me! - David Oyelowo

You're Dead to Me - The Bloomsbury Group

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

The Definitive Croce

Classic Bedtime Favorites

Presenting Lionel Richie

'80s Pop Party

Green Day

Presenting Gordon Lightfoot

Presenting Steely Dan

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autobot2001 · 2 months

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OC X Canon Week 2024 Masterlist

Prompts written in the Transformers fandom.

Day 1; play fighting. Day 5; getting into trouble. Title: A Fun New Game Rating: E Warnings: Brief mention of poor mental health Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC), Sunstreaker X Lily (OC) Description: The friends decide instead of training, they'll be play fighting. The game gets out of hand resulting in three of them getting in trouble.

Day 2: Mundane tasks Title: When Mundane Tasks Are Helpful Rating: T Warning: Brief talk of poor mental health Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Vivian suggests Crosshairs and Drift take Jamie to do the grocery shopping. The three know how a few hours out of the house is good for Jamie.

Day 3: Out in nature Title: Unusual Duck Behavior Rating: E Warning: None Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Jamie detours on the way to the beach, resulting in Drift running after her. Jamie takes Drift to the river where ducks swim. The two observe unusual behavior from the ducks.

Day 4: Caring For One Another Title: I'll Take Care of You Rating: E Warning: None pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Drift taking care of Jamie who has a cold. Day 6; An Intimate Moment & day 7: Date Night Title: A Great Date Rating: E Warning: None Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: Jamie tells Drift she wants to do a date night. Drift makes plans. He feels like date night turned into a date day and night.

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hottpinkpenguin · 2 years

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Born Asleep - Chapter I

Part of the Druig x Elena AU (see full AU list here) Joint project with @bellejeanx

Characters: Druig x Fem!OC (Elena)

Summary: Druig and the other Eternals are forced to put aside their fears about Elena's unexplainable condition to fight Tiamut and stop the Emergence.

Warnings: MAJOR!!!! Eternals spoilers; mature themes; canon character death; existential dread

Word Count: 2,289 (part 1 of multiple - others COMING SOON)

A/N: after almost two months of working on this AU (of which I am so proud<3), WE HAVE COME TO THE FINALE!!! buckle up is all i can say

Read Chapter II here Read Chapter III here Read Chapter IV here

June 2024 Somewhere in the Indian Ocean

Druig watched Elena’s chest rise and fall rhythmically with her labored breathing. He could see the outline of her ribs through her t-shirt. He tried to avoid looking at her too closely, otherwise his stomach would turn and he’d become near inconsolable with grief. He hadn’t been able to look her square in the face for a full week now.

It had been almost three weeks to the day since she’d attacked Makkari and fallen into a stupor. Phastos hadn’t been able to revive her, although he had managed to slow the merciless degradation of whatever affliction plagued her. She looked almost mechanical with how many wires, tubes, and IVs were protruding from her frail form. Druig was grateful for Phastos’ tireless efforts on his wife’s behalf, but as appreciative as he was, he hated Phastos for not being able to do more. It didn’t matter that there was no identifiable cause to Elena’s symptoms, and therefore no opportunity to hypothesize a cure or course of treatment. All that mattered was that she was dying.

Druig had first met Elena almost nine years ago, and although nine years had been an imperceptibly small span of time prior to her, Druig could hardly fathom the changes he’d undergone since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d felt himself wake up fully for the first time in his existence when he’d seen her smile. He’d laid his soul bare to her, and found the bottomless devotion he felt for her returned in kind. He’d become a husband to Elena, a father to Lyla, and with each passing day Druig felt himself flooded with the redemption only afforded to someone who’s been deeply and wholly loved.

It was a dream. Better than anything Druig could have conjured up in his mind. Sweeter than his heart could have anticipated. He’d never known anything so exquisite. The five years he’d spent without Elena and Lyla - the span of time between which Thanos had eliminated half of the universe’s life and the Avengers had managed to undo that act of annihilation - had plunged him into a bottomless darkness.

But this was something worse. It was crueler than those five years. Duirg hadn’t accepted the diagnosis at first. He’d raged against Phastos’ pronouncement, almost killing his fellow Eternal in the process, that Elena was dying. But now, with Elena lying comatose and sickly thin, her chest heaving with exertion and jaundiced in the harsh lighting of Phastos’ lab on the Domo, Druig knew there was no other ending but her death. And he knew he couldn’t look away.

He and Phastos, along with Sersi, Makkari, Gilgamesh, and Thena, had set out from Ajack’s home in South Dakota (which had become Elena, Druig, and Lyla’s home after Ajack’s passing) some four days ago. Makkari and Sersi had identified the site of the Emergence almost a month ago, thanks to Phastos’ ingenuity. According to Phastos’ calculations, which so far had all proven trustworthy, the Emergence was due to happen in a matter of hours. Thankfully, the Unimind technology was ready for deployment. Phastos had misgivings about being able to harvest enough power from just six Eternals instead of their full complement of ten; but with Ikaris, Sprite, and Kingo absent and Ajack dead, they had to take their chances.

Druig knew he should be doing almost anything but torturing himself by Elena’s side. He should be resting, or spending time with Lyla, or reviewing the plan with Phastos. He had only hours before he would be asked to harness the power of the Unimind and seize control of a Celestial in order to halt the Emergence. It was an impossible task, and the chances for success were discouragingly meager. Druig knew he needed strength and optimism to have even a prayer of a chance. But he couldn’t find the strength to tear himself away from Elena. Each time her chest fell with an exhale, Druig felt his heart seize with terror that she may not take another inhale. And he refused to be anywhere but by her side when she met her inevitable fate.

He wasn’t sure how long he was by her side, watching and waiting, before there was a soft knock at the door. Druig didn’t turn to see who it was, nor did he ask what they wanted. He already knew.

It was time.

*****

Elena wasn’t sure where she was, or who she was. In a frightening sense, she wasn’t even sure if she was anything at all anymore. She felt submerged under a suffocating pressure. She’d lost touch with the senses that grounded her to reality a long time ago. Her memories were fractured and jumbled, like a disassembled jigsaw puzzle scattered across the expanse of her mind. There was only one thing - one person - that kept her from slipping into the waiting blackness.

Galen.

He anchored her solidly to the shaky ground of her mind. He was the only thing she recognized anymore.

Elena, stay with me. Fight this.

She felt his presence, like the warmth of a fire, from somewhere close by. Without sight or sound, Elena truthfully had no comprehension of how she knew who he was, or where he was, or what he said to her. His words simply appeared in the shrinking space of her consciousness, as if his thoughts had become hers.

Galen, what’s happening to me? Where am I?

She barely recognized herself.

You’re dying, Elena.

Elena recognized another presence prickling at that word - death - in her mind. It pressed with a deafening pressure on the walls of her mind. Unsure of how to respond, Elena shrank from it, curling in on the warmth of Galen.

Dying? What do you mean?

She was disoriented and having difficulty understanding.

You feel that pressure? That dark force squeezing in on you from all sides? Cutting you off from your body, from your memories, from yourself? That’s death.

From some distant part of her thoughts, Elena realized she likely should feel panicked at those words. Somehow, she couldn’t.

I don’t understand.

Galen’s words swirled around her but seemed to flutter away when she tried to grasp at them.

You’ve been carrying death around with you for a long time now, Elena.

*****

Druig leaned against the wall of the Domo’s central chamber. His armor materialized over his body in a sensation he hadn’t known in centuries. Memories of past battles - all with Deviants - flickered across his mind’s eye. As he looked around the chamber, he saw the other Eternals mimicking his movements, their own armor appearing over their bodies. They each wore somber expressions, alone with their thoughts as they sought whatever fortitude they could summon against the impending doom. Only Makkari returned his gaze. She shot him the faintest of smiles - no doubt meant to be reassuring - but somehow it only dunked Druig further under the surface of his own grief and doubt.

“Daddy!”

Lyla’s panicked cry interrupted his reverie. She rushed into the chamber towards him. Phastos’ mortal husband Ben, who’d been tasked with occupying Lyla and his own son Jack during the battle, shot Druig an apologetic shrug from the hallway.

“I’m sorry, Dru, but she wouldn’t stop crying for you,” he explained, embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

Druig caught his daughter as she leapt into his arms. He saw in her hazel eyes - an exact replica of her mother’s eyes, Druig noted with a pang - the same fear and unquenchable sorrow he felt in himself. But having her close was reassuring, and he buried his face in her hair as she nuzzled into his shoulder.

After being rendered a single parent by Elena’s unexplainable condition weeks ago, Druig had been left to figure out the delicate task of what to tell Lyla on his own. He’d opted for a policy of transparency. Of course, some details had been left out, but by and large Druig had been able to explain the entirety of the upcoming confrontation with Tiamut to Lyla. He’d explained that Tiamut was a very powerful being, that he’d been asleep inside Earth’s core for eons, and that once he woke up and broke through the crust, that most people on Earth would die. Druig had also broken the news to Lyla that he, unlike her mother, had been created specifically to stop this event from happening. Although that was of course entirely antithetical to the Eternals’ true original purpose: to kill Deviants and ensure that enough intelligent life populated Earth to make the Emergence happen in the first place. However, Druig had become so compelled to avoid that fate since learning of Arishem’s deception that it didn’t feel deceitful to tell Lyla that his true purpose was to stop the Emergence.

Lyla had maintained her composure remarkably in the face of this news. But as the days until the Emergence had dwindled, her anxiety had ramped up. Druig knew that, like him, Lyla missed her mother’s soothing presence and steadfast affection. Druig had tried mightily to be there for Lyla in the weeks prior, but he also knew that he’d fallen short of what he’d hoped. Coping with his own grief and the pressure of being almost single handedly tasked with stopping Tiamut, Druig had been absent for Lyla. Somehow, with the grace of someone decades her senior, Lyla had seen fit to forgive him for those transgressions. At times, Druig had felt himself going to her for comfort, which was undeniably inverted from how a parent should treat their child. Phastos hypothesized that Lyla’s healing powers extended beyond healing physical ailments and included hurts of the heart. Druig had at first scoffed at the notion, but over the past few weeks, he’d found himself begrudgingly agreeing with Phastos. He hated to think of his daughter being given such a hefty burden. But in the selfish corners of his heart, he was also glad.

Druig felt the effects of Lyla’s powers as he inhaled the scent of her bubble bath. She wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his hug with an equally forceful pressure. Druig fought back tears as the knowledge that this could very well be his last opportunity to comfort Lyla. He wasn’t sure what fate awaited him down on that beach, but he felt the very real possibility that he, like Lyla’s mother, was inches away from oblivion.

“You’re going to fight the monster?” Lyla asked, looking up at Druig’s eyes. The uncanny similarity between the effervescent shade of hazel in her eyes and in Elena’s was breathtaking, and Druig found himself struggling to breath between his fear and his grief. He managed to nod as he composed himself.

“Yes, petal,” he replied quietly. Lyla nodded knowingly and somberly. She reached up and planted a kiss on Druig’s cheek. He forced himself to breath as she hugged him tightly.

“Good luck, Daddy,” she whispered. “Don’t let the monster win.”

Druig smiled, unable to hold back a sense of delight at her innocence. She may have been burdened with a gift of healing - something Druig worried would age her and expose her to the hurts of life far before she was ready for them - but she was still a child, his child. The moments when that innocence shone through were precious. He returned her kiss with one of his own on her forehead.

“You got it, petal,” he replied. He was pleasantly surprised by how light his voice sounded, and indeed how much less the burden of doubt weighed on his shoulders. Lyla’s powers at work, he thought gratefully and appreciatively as he set her down.

“You need to stay with Ben,” he told her, crouching down in front of her. She bit on her lower lip, which was trembling slightly. Gently, Druig pressed his thumb up underneath her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Be brave for me, petal,” he encouraged. She nodded earnestly. “I need you to look after Mum,” he continued, trying not to let his thoughts dig too deep into the pang of grief that shot through his body at the memory of Elena, lying on death’s door in the next room.

Lyla nodded, returning Druig’s gaze. Druig knew that, like him, Lyla wasn’t entirely sure what it meant to look after Elena, given that Elena felt a million miles away from both of them. Nevertheless, Druig realized he meant what he said. If he wasn’t going to return, he needed to know that someone - even his own daughter - knew how imperative it was to him that Elena have someone to look after her, to care for her. He knew he didn’t need to ask Lyla to care for her own mother, but it felt important that he give voice to that urge nonetheless. Maybe when Lyla was older, she would understand.

He pressed one final kiss into her soft honey curls and gently pushed her towards Ben, who was waiting in the hallway outside the chamber. Obediently but not without hesitation, Lyla let Ben gently grab her hand and pull her out of the chamber. Druig felt bolstered by his daughter’s affection, and as he stood up and straightened his armor, he looked around the room at the others. He realized all eyes were trained on him. There was something different behind the gaze of his companions: Makkari’s eyes shone with worry, Phastos’ with a desperate hope. In Sersi’s eyes, Druig saw sympathy; in Thena’s, encouragement; and in Gilgamesh’s, confidence.

He took strength from his friends - his family, Druig realized with a fierce spark of protectiveness. He inhaled, bolstered by this strength, as he led the others towards the ramp of the Domo, where fate waited for them outside...

read chapter II here

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