#this isn't actually that festive go figure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

crangrapel0ver · 6 months

Text

Sunburns and Silence

Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader.

Summary: Katsuki cares for you after you become effected by the drawbacks of your quirk. Once you go back to your normal self, he expresses how much he wants to take care of you; although you guys can't help but be interrupted by your well-intentioned friends.

Word count: 4,076

Tags: Caring!Katsuki Bakugo x fem reader, Bakugou cooking for reader, dealing with sunburns, heavy petting, and making out.

“Get in groups of three! we're doing a quirk exercise. Try to get with someone who's quirk doesn't suit yours. Two of the groups will have four people, not three.” Aizawa ordered while he led us to the middle of the arena. It was a similar arena to the one we were at for the sports festival, but it seemed to be a bit bigger without as many stands above. I look to my classmates to see who would be good for the exercise. Most of the groups had formed while I was taking in the arena, and there were only a few people left. Mina, Kaminari, and Sero had grouped together almost immediately. As did Todoroki, Midoriya, and Uraraka. Iida, Tsuyu, and Momo had paired together near Todoroki's group. The other groups were too far away for me to discern, but as far as I could tell, the only group left missing someone was Bakugou and Kirishima's group.

“Oi! Come on Airhead. You're with us sweetheart.” Bakugou snickered as if he was amused with the group. He waved me over with two fingers and I quickly jogged over to him just like he beckoned. As I approached Kirishima turned from Mina's group and gave me a bright smile.

“You ready to win this (surname)?” Kirishima asked with a pat on my shoulders.

“Oh you know I am Kiri! I wonder what it is we'll actually be doing.” I grinned up at him while I looked over to Professor Aizawa. He was looking around with his hair pulled back in a bun to get the hair off of his neck. I understand why. The April heat makes my skin sticky. My own hair was pulled up out of the way. We were all in the school gym uniforms; although most of the students had rightfully ditched the jackets. Even in a thin white tank top, I could feel the sweat pooling on my forehead. I could tell the heat was getting to the boys as well, them having to wipe the sweat off their face.

We hadn't even started the exercise and the sun was already making us exhausted. I just hoped it would get over soon so we could go inside and get something to drink.

“Now that you all are in groups, go ahead and organize yourself at the edges of the arena. We're doing two groups at a time. you'll fight to try and grab each other's flag while protecting your own. You'll have fifteen minutes to get the opposing flag. The first group up is gonna be…” I zoned out as Aizawa drags on. His voice becomes a murmur as I look to the sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, and the sun wasn't getting any dimmer.

I flinch as a hand slaps my back. It's Katsuki. From the way Kirishima has already walked off, I assume we're to find a spot at the edge to watch. I wordlessly follow him as he finds Kirishima next to Mina, Kaminari, and Sero's group. The first two groups go to their flags and I take a seat against the arena walls to rest my feet. I can see Katsuki's watchful gaze out of the corner of my eye. I just watch the grass and try to not fall deeper into the murmuring of my friends' conversation. The heat isn't letting up anytime soon, and before I know it the first groups are done. I hear Aizawa call for the next two groups, but his words are lost on me. I haven't even used my quirk and already, I'm experiencing the drawbacks of exhaustion. I see a tall figure in front of me and before I can recognise I've put my hand out, Bakugou is pulling me up and telling me that I'll be staying with the flags. All I have to do is stop anyone who comes too close while he and Kirishima get the opposing team's flag. I have to try not to get lost in his ruby eyes while he tells me about the plan.

“You listening to me, Airhead?” He huffs, stirring me out of my stupor. I can see that Momo, Iida, and Tsuyu have already gotten ready for the match. I nod to him as confirmation while he squints at my silence. He lightly slaps my arm as a sendoff and he's off to get set with Kirishima. I can see them nod at each other while Aizawa counts off the match.

As soon as Aizawa says go, they're off in a flurry. I can barely make out what's happening when I see Iida coming my way. I stop him in his tracks just before he gets too close. I can tell he's fighting to get out of it, but I'm too focused on him for the hold to weaken.

Tsuyu is next passing around Bakugou and Kirishima and I can see her gearing up to snag the flag. I paralyze her where she stands and I can feel my concentration slipping. Iida is able to move slightly and he's about to break out completely when Kirishima makes his rounds back to our side. He manages to get Iida in his rock solid grasp before he can speed towards the flag. I still have Tsuyu stuck where she was before, but then I can almost feel my mind slipping away from me.

I know Bakugou will be aggravated if I don't protect the flag. He gave me the easiest job and I don't wanna let him or Kirishima down. I hear a muffled yell, but before I can look towards the sound Tsuyu is out of my hold and reaching for the flag. I'm able to push her away and temporarily stop her, but my hold is limited. she can't run towards it or reach for it, but she's still able to thrash her body around. I can only afford to focus on her if I want to keep the paralysis. I can see Kirishima and Iida fighting somewhere near our flag. I just keep repeating Pause! Pause! Pause! I could see Tsuyu slowly moving out of my hold and I couldn't stop her.

I couldn't do anything. It was as if I was quirkless. It felt as though my quirk was being used against me. I just looked at Tsuyu's movements to grab the flag, only to be stopped by Kiri.

“Bakugou retrieved Yaomomo's flag. Bakugou's team wins.” I can hear Aizawa's voice somewhere behind me in the arena. I saw Kirishima helping up Tsuyu from the ground. I wanted to move to ask if she was okay, but I couldn't seem to move towards her. I can see Katsuki walking up to me, passing Kirishima, Iida, and Tsuyu. I can only look at him, as he says something. He's probably teasing about not being able to keep my quirk to hold them down. I can see him squinting at me like he always does when he's upset with me.

“Did you hear me?” He asks with something lacing his tone. Is it concern or is he aggravated with me ignoring him? I nod at him slowly, not being able to move more than the subtle nod. He only sighs and grabs my elbow. His grip guiding me to the edge of the arena. Over to where the other groups sat. The sun is still beating down onto us. I can feel his calloused hand rubbing the inside of the forearm. One of his hands holds mine and he rubs his thumb on the back of my hand. It's more gentle than I expect him to be, and I don't know what it's for. I'm just staring at him trying to find the strength to move my hands to hold his. I move my other hand over to his, but the ability to contract my hand is lost on me. I'm turned to face Katsuki, and I can hear Aizawa saying something about going back to the dorms for the rest of the day. I didn't make an effort to leave until Katsuki moved the hand holding mine to rest on my back. He lightly pushed me forward with his hand not leaving my back.

We're in the common room for class A and I'm sitting on the sofa chair that Katsuki put me in after I got back from my shower. It had taken me longer than most of the other students because I couldn't seem to open the door handles or move the shower nod. I struggled to close my hands around the soap to wash my face. I couldn't take my hair out of the ponytail it was put in this morning. When I arrived back downstairs, Katsuki stood up from the table in the living room. I could see him walk over to me and I didn't realize he was trying to lead me over to one of the chairs.

“What do you want to eat?” His warm hand grabbed my cold one, and I could've stayed in his hold forever. I look up at his ruby eyes and I can’t help but relax at his warm gaze. I frown at the question while just barely shaking my head. I don't know what I should eat right now. I can't imagine cooking in this state. The last time I tried to cook while I was like this I ended up burning my hand. Katsuki was so mad when he found me in the kitchen, clutching my bubbling hand. He simply huffed and pushed my hand under cold water while he took the pot off of the stovetop.

“You're not cooking like this. Not after you burnt yourself last time.” He snarled at the memory of me crying silently while cradling my hand. When it happened, I couldn't even yell or ask someone for help. I just silently looked up at him with my puppy dog eyes. I nod at Katsuki, and he just sighs and pulls away to walk to the kitchen. My eyes follow him and stay with him while he moves around to different shelves and cabinets. I see people shifting out of the corner of my eye, but I don't bother to check the movement. I only look over when Mina waves her hand slightly in front of my face. Mina and Kirishima are sitting on the couch next to my chair while Kaminari is crouching in front of me. He reaches to rub my hands with a gentle smile, but I can only glance at him before looking back over to Katsuki. When I glance over, I meet his eyes and he only nods at me then goes back to cooking. I'm pulled back to Kaminari when he squeezes my hand. He asks me if I'm doing alright and I can only stare while he frowns at the blank expression on my face. He glances over to Mina and Kirishima while making a concerned face, glancing at me with a head tilt. I blink slowly and look over to where Katsuki was, but he's gone. My brows furrow as I slowly look around to find him.

I'm pulled out of my silent concern when he appears in front of me, ushering Kaminari out of the way. He sits on the coffee table in front of me and he looks between me and what he has in his hands. When he moves his hand to my face, I look at his hand not knowing what he's doing. He's holding a spoon. A spoon full of fried rice with small pieces of egg, peppers, and sausage. It's one of my favorite meals, but I didn't know Katsuki knew that. He ushers the spoon to my face again, and I think I know what he wants now. I open my mouth slightly and he puts the spoon in my mouth. He gives me time to chew it before he picks up a cup for me to drink. I've been parched since we went outside into the sun, but after the exercise I couldn't open the water bottle in my room. I tried at it for a couple minutes silently in my room before giving up and getting in the shower. I’m usually not able to move my hands and use small muscles when I’m exhausted like this. It’s like when you lose blood flow to a certain limb and it does to sleep. I lose it in most places which leaves me feeling hollow. Like my body doesn’t work anymore.

I sometimes feel bad for people who are under my quirk if this is what they feel like. Your mind is slower and fuzzy. Your limbs might as well be absent because you can’t use them. You're helpless in your own body and you can do nothing but wait it out. Usually when I get like this, someone will drop me off at my room and I’ll sleep until I can feel again. On days like these, people don’t seem to notice my inability. They think I’m just tired, not that I’m being paralyzed by my own quirk. Unable to control my body or mind fully. Some people notice, but they don’t know how to help. Not that I could tell them what I need, I barely know what I need myself, but Katsuki never has to be told what I need. He always seems to know what to do without us needing to communicate my needs.

Katsuki continues to spoon feed me the food he made for me, always so patient with me. The warmth of the food spreads through my cold body. I can hear Mina, Kirishima, and Kaminari gushing over the sweet action, but I can't seem to care. Their conversation continues on, but Katsuki doesn't add to it. He only focuses on me. One of the students on the other side of the room must’ve dropped something because a shattering sound startles me out of the solace Katsuki is giving me. A burst of voices and laughter flows throughout the room, killing the comfortable quiet that I was basking in. My facial expression only barely changes from the blank exhausted one to a slight curiosity. Katsuki doesn't follow my gaze over to the source of noise, he just stays looking at me with that expression I can never place. He taps my knee after a second of me observing their conversation, but when I don’t look back at him, he softly says my name. I look back over to him with a slow blink and soft sigh.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand rubbing my knee and lower thigh. The action is chaste, but It still warms my heart. I tilt my head and lightly lift my shoulders into a shrug. He continues to rub my leg as he looks over to the rest of the class which isn’t going to settle down any time soon. He picks up the bowl slightly to ask if I still want any and I just look away to the empty kitchen, still not being able to find my words. He understands my intention without it needing to be explained. He moves his hand from my thigh to grab my hand gently. He pulls me up slowly with him and takes me to the kitchen where he washes the dish, and I just stand where he left me.

Why is he so kind? For anyone else he would have just left them to deal with themselves. He would’ve scoffed if someone else had asked him to feed them. He’s always been a little gentler with me, but I assumed it was because he thought my blank state wouldn’t be able to handle his brash nature.

I don’t notice when he stops doing the dishes until he's in front of me and putting his hand on my lower back. He ushers me to the elevator, and I spare him a glance when I notice he presses his floor number not mine. He rubs my back with his thumb, the warmth from his hand bleeding through my shirt.

When the slow elevator pings and the doors open, I silently walk wherever Katsuki leads me. When I’m with him it’s easy to allow myself to shut off, knowing he will take care of me. He puts in the code to his door and when we get into his room he just points towards the bed. I sink down into the well made bed as he walks to get something. I grab one of his throw blankets and pull it around my shoulders. He’s gone for a couple minutes, and there's some shuffling in the bathroom where he went. When he leaves the bathroom he turns on his small heater and walks over to me. He has a container of clear gel in his hands. He sits the container next to me on the bed and reaches to pinch the material of the blanket between his fingers.

“You gonna let me put this aloe vera on?” I nod up at him, my tired gaze not leaving his ruby eyes. I pull the blanket off and the material rubs on my sunburnt shoulders that I hadn’t felt until now. The skin hadn’t been aggravated by my tank top, but the blanket seemed to set it off. Usually when I went to relax with Katsuki in his room, this was my favorite blanket. Claiming the soft blanket as my own whenever I was here, but now I wanted nothing to do with the itchy material. His lips tightened into a line when I winced, but it's relaxed whenever he let out a deep breath through his nose. He gently pulled my hair into a bun to keep it off my back.

He easily opened the container and began rubbing the gel into my red shoulders. My eyes close with a sigh as the cool gel eases the hot skin, and I can't help but smile softly. He puts a little bit of aloe on my forehead and cheeks. He spreads a thin layer of gel across the bridge of my nose. He wipes the last bit on the lid of the container, and when there's nothing left on his hands he moves to cup my jaw. His thumb rubbing the edge of my jawline that doesn’t have gel on it. I lean into the touch and he smiles at the small action.

“That feel good? I thought you were gonna melt outside today.” He chuckled softly, but I only looked up at him. He planted his knees on the bed and bent down to be face to face with me. He glanced down at my lips and I leaned forward looking at his ruby eyes that were always softer when they looked at me. I licked my lips and his grip tightened on my jaw. He closed the gap and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I kissed back as best as I could before he pulled away again.

He had a fond look in his eyes when he looked at me, only inches away. I leaned closer to him again with my eyes closed, silently begging for another one. He granted my wish, this time with a deeper kiss. He moved to cup the back on my neck where there wasn’t any sunburn. His hands lacing through my hair while the other one wrapped around my waist. My hands rested on his muscular arms. He kissed me like I was air and he was drowning. He held me like I was never going to be in his arms again. He devoured me like he was starving. When he pulled away I looked into his rose colored eyes and he must've seen my dazed look.

“Are you better now?” he asked, not letting me out of his hold just yet. I nodded at him and he gave me a skeptical look.

“Thank you Katsuki. For everything.” I whispered with a quick kiss on his lips. I wasn’t completely back, but the numbness has subsided to a fuzzy feeling. Even though I’m still exhausted, it’s something I can manage now.

“You don’t have to thank me for this. Someone has to take care of your ass.” He mumbled into my lips as he closed his eyes again and kissed me once more. His hands pulled me tighter to him before releasing and guiding me to lay against the bed. I moved to lace my hands through his hair as he explored underneath my tank top. He just barely grazed the underside of my boobs, and he kissed me a little harder realizing I don't have a bra on. He continued to kiss me with a warm passion until a knock startled us out of the makeout session.

“Bakubro! Is (surname) in here? Mina went to check on her and she wasn’t in her room.” Kirishima asked from outside the door. Hopefully he hadn’t heard anything. If he saw us now, with puffy red lips and the aloe vera smeared on Katsuki’s face, he’d definitely know something was going on. Katsuki finally pulled his warm hands out of my shirt and walked over to the door. He opened it just enough for me to be blocked from Kirishima’s view.

“Yeah, she’s in here. I just got her some aloe vera and she’s resting a bit before she goes to her room for the night.” Katsuki says with ease. It’s technically true, but Kirishima doesn’t need to know that our version of ‘resting’ was with Katsuki’s hands up my shirt and his tongue in my mouth. Kirishima seemed to hum in understanding and I see Katsuki freeze when Kirishima asks about why he has aloe vera on him as well.

“Tch, I was a little sunburned also. Why are you being so nosey, Shitty hair?” He tried to defend, but Kirishima just chuckled as he patted Katsuki’s shoulder. He wasn’t believing a word that came out of Katsuki’s mouth and we all knew it.

“Whatever you say, just remember we’re going out into town tomorrow morning. Try to make sure she actually gets some rest.” He grins and I’m sure he can see me from just behind the door.

“I will, Shitty hair.” Katsuki mumbles as he looks back towards me. He says goodnight to Kirishima and Kirishima says goodnight to both of us with a boyish laugh. Katsuki shuts the door with a sigh and returns to the bed with a small grin. He gets back on the bed over me and pulls him into a slow kiss. Katsuki puts one of his hands on my exposed thigh and the other in my hair. This time I lace one of my hands through his hair and grip his arm with the other. He smiles into the kiss and I can’t help but smile as well. We break apart and he looks down at my lips before initiating another breathtaking kiss. I almost think I’m going crazy when another knock at the door sounds. Am I having deja vu? No, unfortunately there’s another person at the door. Katsuki groans as he’s forced to break the kiss and take his hands away from my soft skin once more.

“Come on Bakugou! You can’t hide her away in here.” Mina yells through the door, and I can already imagine her stance. Her hands are probably on her hips, impatiently tapping her foot while waiting for Katsuki to open the door. When he does, Mina can clearly see the aggravation slipping onto his expression. “Don’t be so sour. I just wanted to check that she was feeling okay, but clearly she’s feeling more than okay right now.” she grinned slyly and I could feel the glare from Katsuki. She waved through the door past Katsuki and said goodnight as she walked off in the direction of Kirishima.

There’s no way we're hearing the end of this tomorrow or anytime soon. I can’t seem to care as Katsuki falls back into the bed and pulls me onto his chest. Eventually the fuzziness of quirk exhaustion fades and Katsuki’s warmth encompasses me as I fall asleep on his chest. His warm hands wrapped around my waist and my thigh pulled up around his waist. My hands resting on his chest as his heart beats lull me into a quiet sleep.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #my hero academia #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #making out #how do i even tag this #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #im just a girl #i wrote this instead of sleeping

177 notes · View notes

dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 months

Text

The Stranger | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Your usual CriMi stuff. Guns. Someone's being shot.

Author's note: Was on my nth rewatch when I thought about this. It's basically season 6 episode 21 - The Stranger. This isn't any good, but I needed to let the idea out and figured I could share it with you.

Words: 4.939

“It’s so unnecessary. There’s too much blood and gore and… bleh…”

When Spencer invited me to the horror movie festival at the cinema complex in town, I didn’t expect it to be a group activity. For a stupid, naive moment, I thought the resident genius had actually asked me out on a date but when Penelope and Derek rocked up, I realized it wasn’t a date.

I had been working at the BAU for about four years. When I first started working there, it was very hard for me to merge with the already super tight group. I didn’t want to impose, so I merely stayed in the background and only did what was asked of me. Until there was one time where I didn’t agree with our boss, Aaron Hotchner, and told that right to his face.

Ever since, the team held me in high esteem, even Aaron.

It also brought me and Spencer closer together. Our bond had grown stronger on the field, and subsequently also off the field. I can’t remember at what point we started hanging out after work, too, but it was long before I actually started to develop feelings for my coworker.

So, when he asked me out to the movies, my heart leapt with joy.

I had donned a cute outfit, did my hair and makeup all prettily, despite having just come off a twelve-hour workday.

And then Penelope and Derek joined and I realized Spencer had not only asked me, but our coworkers, as well. It stung, at first, but in the end, I had such a nice time that I didn’t care for it as much anymore.

“Garcia, it’s a slasher film,” Spencer retorted to our blonde coworker. “How do you do a slasher film without violence?”

“You imply it,” Penelope said, almost angrily.

“Baby, the movie is called Slice 6. What were you expecting?” Derek questioned, grinning.

Penelope’s eyes widened, an answer at the ready. “Uh, a refreshing beverage with a twist of comedy.” Spencer and I chuckled at the same time, and our eyes met for a second. “I’m gonna have nightmares for a week.”

I tilted my head slightly so I could look past Spencer at Penelope. “With everything that we do and see on a daily basis, that got to you?” I asked her.

“Listen, Blaze, you may be all Sigourney Weaver ass-kicking tough, which is awesome–” I giggled at the nickname Penelope had baptized me with on that day I stood up against Hotch. “But the mystical mavens of innocence like myself jump at things that go bump in the night.”

Penelope was so intense and dramatic most times, it was my favorite thing about her.

“Why are you worried? I’m sure that Morgan will protect you,” Spencer added, then looked up at me to share in the upcoming joke. “As long as he’s not jumping out of his chair like a prepubescent schoolgirl.”

The three of us laughed at Derek’s expense before he started to defend himself. “The only reason I jumped is ‘cause you guys woke me up.”

“How could you sleep during that?” Penelope asked, grabbing onto Derek’s bicep. It gave me the urge to do the same with Spencer, but I withheld myself from doing so. Instead, I looked up at him and studied his features for a second.

His side profile really was remarkable. With his sharp jawline and his button nose. I liked his hair short, in comparison to how long it was just a year prior. I liked the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled and I liked how his tie was perpetually crooked. I knew I shouldn’t fall for my coworker, but with Spencer, you couldn’t help but fall for him.

“Villain,” Spencer’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“What?” Derek asked, which reassured me he wasn’t talking to me.

“In movies, UnSubs are called “villains”.”

Derek chuckled. “My bad.”

As the four of us continued our walk towards the car, I couldn’t help my mind to wander. While I was disappointed it wasn’t an actual date, I actually really enjoyed it. Mostly because I had Spencer whispering facts into my ear about the movie or things that didn’t make a lot of sense scientifically, calming the fear that had built up inside of me due to the suspense.

“Do you wanna know why horror movies are so successful?” Spencer then asked us.

I couldn’t help but smile while Derek asked, “Why’s that, Genius?”

“They prey on our instinctual need to survive,” he started. “In tribal days, a woman’s scream would signal danger and the men would return from hunting to protect their pack. That’s why it’s always the women and not the men who fall victim to the bogeyman.”

I smiled and finally stopped fighting my instincts to grab his arm. “Count on you, Reid, to break a movie down to science,” I said, softly squeezing the fabric of his coat. Almost like a secret code to tell him that I loved it when he whispered facts to me during the movie. “My favorite thing about horror movies is the suspense factor,” I then continued.

“Oh, the ticking clock,” Spencer added, eyes widened slightly for dramatic effect.

I wiggled my eyebrows, a grin tugging at my lips as I lowered my voice to a suspenseful hush. “The helpless victim walks through the dark… Shadows reaching out to get her.”

Then, Spencer went on, his voice lowering an octave to add a bit of spookiness to his own words. “A sudden noise draws her attention. Is someone there–” He leaned down to say in my ear, “or is it just in her head?”

“It’s totally unrealistic,” Penelope cut through our scary-movie-rundown. “No one should be walking through a dark alley by themselves at night.”

Derek cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself. “Hello?”

“Ah, no one should be walking through a dark alley without a Derek Morgan by their side,” Penelope corrected herself, grinning up at the man beside her.

“But the best part of a horror movie,” Spencer went on. “You never know when the end is gonna come.”

In my mind, I thought, I don’t think I wanna know when the end is gonna come, though I was only thinking of the end of our night.

“Well, I think the end of this lovely night has come,” Derek said when we had reached the cars and Pen was stifling a yawn. “Another day at work tomorrow,” he reminded us as though we needed it.

Spencer had carpooled with Penelope and Derek. They had just returned from work while I had to go home first to feed my cat. But instead of joining them by Derek’s car, he remained by my side, even though I had let go of his arm to do so. Seemingly having noticed this, Derek looked at his coworker.

“You coming with us, Reid?” he asked.

Glancing over at me, he shook his head. “I think we’ve learned from this movie that we should never leave a woman alone during the night. I’ll see to it that Blaze gets home safe.”

A flutter erupted in my stomach whilst heat crept up to my cheeks. I was lucky that it was so dark, so no one would be able to notice. “Oh, that’s fine, Spence. I’m sure I won’t be murdered on the way home.”

“No, I insist,” he said and stepped forward towards my car.

Penelope grinned and winked at me before saying, “Well, Blaze, seems you’ve got your very own knight in shining armor.”

Completely ignoring the effect this insinuation had on my body, I chuckled. “More like brains in shining armor, you mean.”

Only momentarily, and only to give me a hug, Penelope let go of Derek’s arm. “Tell him how you feel tonight,” she whispered into my ear.

Penelope Garcia was the sole confidante privy to my secret crush on Spencer. Surrounded by a team of keen profilers, one might assume others would catch on, yet fortunately, my feelings remained unnoticed by all except Penelope. It was she who skillfully coaxed the admission from me. Since then, our weekly girls' nights became a sanctuary, overflowing with ice cream and dissecting Spencer Reid's flirtations of the week. Penelope's enthusiasm often led me to believe Spencer reciprocated, only for reality to swiftly dispel such notions upon our next encounter.

“You know I won’t,” I whispered back, only to earn a glare from the blonde.

“Bye, my loves!” Penelope waved as she made a beeline towards Derek’s car.

Once Spencer and I had returned the goodbyes to our coworkers, we got into my car. Silence engulfed us, only broken by the soft hum of the engine and soon thereafter, the music playing from the radio. I felt a tingle on the back of my neck, suddenly completely aware that I was all alone with my best friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” He then asked when we drove off.

I hummed. “Mm-mmm, yeah. My favorite moment was when the slicer’s brother was in the closet. I did not see that coming.” From the corner of my eye, I caught Spencer’s wide smile and the nod of his head.

“Yeah, I noticed that. I believe you nearly broke my hand from how hard you were squeezing it.”

My cheeks flushed again at the memory of us holding hands during the movie, just because I was scared. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, chuckling.

“No, don’t be,” he said. “I didn’t mind it.”

When I looked over at him for a split second, he was already looking at me, giving me a warm smile. Spencer had the most beautiful smile, one that reached his eyes with a twinkle. Not falling in love with this man was impossible.

During the car ride, the two of us rehashed our favorite parts of the movie before we lapsed into conversation about work. It was inevitable not to talk about the most recent case we had as it was still so fresh in our minds.

“Why don’t you come up for a moment?” Spencer asked when we had arrived at his place. “I can tell you’re still a bit shaken up from the case and the movie hasn’t done much good to help that feeling.”

I hesitated. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been to his apartment before, we’d spent many a day together after hours, just hanging out. But the idea that this evening was a date still haunted the back of my mind. Then again, the idea of being home alone with the anxiety still sitting on my chest didn’t entice me either.

“Uhm, sure,” I heard myself say before unbuckling and putting the car in park.

His apartment was cold when we walked in. We had been on the case for a couple of days, so Spencer had turned down the heating, of course. Whilst he took care of turning it back on, I kicked off my shoes and went to find a blanket to wrap around me in hopes it would warm me up a bit.

As I waited for Spencer to return, I replied to a couple of messages from my mother, my sister and Penelope that I had missed during the movie or, in the last case, during the drive home.

Tell him!!!

Penelope’s message read, but it was quickly forgotten when Spencer returned with cups of tea, handing one over to me before sitting down next to me. The steam of the hot beverage wafted in my face and the aroma of it alone told me it was chamomile tea, my favorite.

As Spencer and I settled onto the cozy couch, steaming cups of tea in hand, the ambiance of the dimly lit room enveloped us in a sense of tranquility. Conversation flowed effortlessly between us, seamlessly transitioning from discussions about our latest case to lighter, more random topics. Spencer's animated gestures and thoughtful insights never failed to captivate me, his intellect a constant source of admiration.

Lost in our exchange, time seemed to slip away unnoticed, until the credits of the movie we had intended to watch began to roll. With a shared chuckle, we realized we had become so engrossed in conversation that we hadn't even started the film. Determined not to let the evening go to waste, we decided to press play anyway.

However, the warmth of the room combined with the soothing rhythm of the movie soon lulled us into a state of relaxation. Before we knew it, our eyes grew heavy, and the soft cushions of the couch beckoned us into a peaceful slumber. Side by side, cups of tea empty on the coffee table, we drifted off into a contented sleep, the gentle glow of the screen casting a serene aura over the room.

I was startled awake the next morning by the sound of my phone ringing and buzzing on the coffee table. Slowly but surely, my brain started to wake too, which was the moment it dawned on me where I was and what was happening.

Spencer and I had fallen asleep on the couch, my head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me. The idea of it alone sent shivers down my spine. Though I couldn’t revel in the feeling for too long when my mind snapped back to the ringing on the coffee table.

Garcia was calling me.

“Hello?” I greeted, unsure about what she was calling me about.

“Sorry to be calling so early, my sweetling, but duty’s calling,” she informed me. “So, get Reid up and get your sweet asses to the BAU.” At the mention of his name, my eyes flicked towards Spencer next to me. He was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, making him look like an adorable toddler.

The words finally registered in my brain, causing me to furrow my brows in confusion. “Wait– How do you–”

“I came to pick you up at your place, but when you weren’t here, I figured you’d have stayed at Spencer’s considering the movie we watched last night,” she explained with that cheeky tone in her voice that told me she was smirking all the way through.

I cleared my throat as I removed the blanket from my body. “Right – We’ll be right there.”

“Drive careful, my love. Toodaloo.”

Once Penelope had hung up, I nudged Spencer along. The two of us got ready in silence before heading out the door and getting into my car. We only stopped at the coffee shop at the corner of the street where Spencer got us both coffees.

Entering the BAU, the two of us were quickly joined by some of the team, though only Penelope shot me a knowing look at the outfit I was wearing; yesterday’s clothes. Rossi, however, was only interested in hearing about the movie we watched, which Spencer was all too happy to divulge into.

“What we didn’t see coming was that the slicer’s brother was in the closet,” he mentioned, which made me smile. It was the exact moment we had talked about the night before.

“Frightening,” Rossi commented as the four of us moved through the hallways.

“Did you tell him?” Penelope asked in a whisper, hooking her arm with mine.

I shook my head. “I chickened out,” I said, earning a stern glare from the blonde. “I just– I don’t want anything to change between us, Pen. We’re in a really good place right now a-and I don’t wanna blow that.”

“Speaking of horror,” Rossi’s comment had us all stopping in our tracks when we noticed Strauss talking to Hotch in his office.

The four of us looked at the scene in front of us as Spencer asked, “What’s Strauss doing here?”

“Whatever it is, I cast my vote on “not good”,” Penelope replied.

The four of us piled into the briefing room where Derek already was, ready to be presented with the case. It took a few moments before Hotch joined us, undoubtedly getting a stern talking to from Strauss. “Let’s get started,” he muttered once he walked through the door.

Penelope briefed us about the case and we were soon on the jet to San Diego, bouncing theories off one another with the first impressions we had about the case. As we started building the profile, the UnSub attacked again, leaving us with four victims before we were able to give a profile.

While Morgan, Rossi and Hotch delivered the profile to the rest of the police department, Spencer and I were tasked to inform the officers on-campus. The entire time we were there, Spencer allowed me to do most of the talking, only chiming in when he felt necessary. It was the perfect dynamic of going back-and-forth.

Spencer and I turned away from the girls we had been talking to and convened together a little further away, bouncing theories off each other. I was in the middle of a sentence when Spencer reached out and wiped my cheek with his thumb.

"Eyelash," he said, showing me the single lash he had caught on his thumb. The tantilizing electricity zapped between us, sending shivers down my spine.

Before I could say anything else, we were whisked away on the next part of our case. There was never a moment to breathe.

There were two more victims after that, two in one go before we found who the UnSub could be. As we all geared up to get Greg Phinney, Spencer turned towards me with a worried look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Will you be careful?” his question was intertwined with mine, making it almost impossible to hear it.

I wasn’t sure where this sudden worry had come from. We’d been doing fine for over four years. He had never worried about me until now. “Of course. Always.”

With a quick nod, Spencer turned on his heel to join Derek while I tagged along with Hotch and Rossi. Soon enough, we were informed that Greg Phinney wasn’t at his own apartment and that we’d better floor it towards Kate’s. It was a whirlwind of phone calls and theories and words until Hotch snapped me out of it.

“y/l/n, I want you to come in with me. Leave your firearm here.” There was no time to object, so I handed my gun over to the officer next to me before falling into step with my boss. “Be compassionate and sympathetic to him. Let him tell you how Kate betrayed him and how much you understand his devastation,” he informed me.

I simply nodded my head and with feigned confidence, I knocked on the mahogany door. As the door softly creaked open, a chill swept through me, raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

Greg's appearance was ordinary yet unsettling, his features shrouded in an eerie stillness. His eyes, a piercing blue, bore into mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. They seemed to hold secrets untold, each glance a silent invitation into the depths of his darkness.

His jawline was sharp, set in a firm line that betrayed no emotion. A hint of fear pooled in his eyes, sending a ripple of unease coursing through me. It was as if he knew something I didn't, as if he held the upper hand in a game whose rules remained a mystery.

In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent standoff, I couldn't shake the feeling that Greg Phinney was more than just a suspect—he was a predator, waiting patiently in the shadows for his next opportunity to strike.

“I never said you could bring in anyone else,” he said to Hotch, but keeping his eyes on mine.

“I know, but I thought if we talked inside we could work this out ourselves,” I retorted, surprising myself with the amount of strength that was audible in my voice.

Greg blinked. “Are you some kind of a negotiator?”

I didn’t respond, but waited for Greg to make the first move. He looked out towards the police cars standing behind me, officers ready to go in when necessary.

“No guns,” he finally said.

“No guns,” I agreed.

Greg opened the door further, revealing that he had Kate in a chokehold with one arm and a knife against her throat, a gun in his other hand. “Okay,” he whispered and cocked his head to the side, urging us to come in. He moved towards the living room with Kate as Hotch and I followed behind.

“Close the door,” he ordered to Hotch, who obeyed politely. “All right. Stand over there.”

Hotch moved over towards the spot Greg was pointing at. “You need to put the gun down,” he said.

“We need to get out of here. Is that gonna happen?” Greg asked instead.

“As long as you’ve got a gun, if one of the agents outside has a clear shot, he’ll take it.”

Inhaling deeply, regaining my determination, I took a tentative step forward. “Tell me what you want, Greg.”

“You know, I don’t want to get locked up again,” said Greg, still holding on very tightly to Kate with a knife against her throat and a gun waving around.

A thousand ideas were whirling inside my head until I landed on one. “Don’t you really want Kate to apologize for making your dad forget your mom?” I asked, cautiously and very slowly approaching Greg.

“No, I didn’t do that though,” Kate chimed in.

My eyes flicked towards Kate, my jaw clenched and my eyebrows furrowed in feigned anger. “Unless the next words out of your mouth are “I’m sorry”, I don’t wanna hear anything else from you.” When I looked back at Greg, I made sure to soften my features. “I understand, Greg. I do. She took care of you. You trusted her. And then she betrayed you as soon as your mother was gone. It must have crushed you when Kate married your dad. How did it make you feel, Greg?”

Greg didn’t know what was happening. I could see the gears behind his eyes whirling whilst he became more and more agitated.

“I’m sorry,” Kate whimpered.

“You felt betrayed, didn’t you, Greg?” I continued, certain of my tactics and it seemed Hotch was on the same page I was.

“Ask her the question, Greg,” he said. Greg looked at my boss in surprise. “Go ahead.” The young man opened his mouth to ask the question he wanted to ask, but hesitated. “Ask her,” Hotch ordered again.

Then, the question Hotch and I had both anticipated rolled off Greg’s lips. “Why not me?” A single tear slipped down Kate’s cheek. “Why not me?!” he asked louder.

“Answer him, Kate,” Hotch ordered.

Kate whimpered and gasped for air before her answer came out in a whisper. “Because you were just a … boy.”

Glancing from Kate towards us and back, Greg said, “But I loved you,” and he almost sounded incredulous as if he couldn’t believe she would never reciprocate his feelings. He tightened the knife against Kate’s throat and I knew something needed to happen. “I loved you.”

Hushed apologies rushed from Kate’s lips as Greg continued to declare his love for the old babysitter.

Behind them, I noticed Rossi sneaking up, gun aimed. Hotch was quick to dive away and as Greg turned, wanting to fire back, I took the opportunity to grab Kate and bring her to safety in a small hallway to our right. Two gunshots went off.

Greg fell to the floor against the sofa. Through the whirlwind happening in my mind, I heard Hotch call for backup as he himself approached the unconscious young man, discarting him of his firearm before checking his pulse.

Once the scene was deemed safe, I guided the distraught Kate outside where I brought her to the EMT’s to get checked up. I made sure she was all right before turning to rejoin my coworkers on the scene when another EMT stopped me.

“Agent y/l/n, is that your blood?” she asked, pointing at my left arm.

When I looked down, the sleeve of my burgundy long sleeve shirt had turned even darker and was slightly ripped. Only then did I realize that the second gunshot wasn’t Rossi firing twice. It had been Greg, wanting to shoot at Rossi but instead nicking my arm.

“Huh,” I said before everything went completely dark.

“You fainted at the sight of blood?” Morgan’s voice chimed through the hospital foyer when he came to pick me up afterwards. I was cleared to go after being treated for the gunshot wound that had grazed my skin. Though I didn’t think it was so bad, I still had to wear a sling for a couple of days.

I shrugged as the two of us fell into step to walk out to the car. “You know, I think it was the adrenaline of it all more than the blood itself,” I retorted with a giggle and hopped into the passenger’s seat while he took the driver’s.

“There’s someone who isn’t all too happy with your actions,” he commented.

I furrowed my brows. “Who?” I asked, certain it wasn’t our boss since it was all his idea.

“Reid, of course,” he replied as though I should’ve known the answer. For a fleeting moment, our eyes met before Morgan focused back on the road. “I think it’s time you and Reid had a good conversation because this is ludicrous.”

Before I could even ask him about any of it, we had arrived at the airport where everyone was waiting for us on the jet. Determined to ask Spencer about what was wrong, I approached him but as soon as he saw me, he put on his headphones. Okay, that’s clear, I thought and instead sat down on the other side of the jet.

“Hey,” Rossi captured my attention. “Good job today, kid.”

I mustered up the best smile I could give. “Thanks, Dave.”

All the way back to Quantico, I pondered about what might be happening inside that genius’ brain. Why could he be upset about me doing my job? He had gotten into danger more often than I had, much to my dismay. Those had been the most harrowing cases; where I’d almost lost him or any of our other team members.

I tried to talk to him when we got back to the BAU, but he simply walked past me and ignored me completely. Though he was going to change his course in a couple of days, I didn’t have much patience for that. So, after a frustrating shower and a change of clothes, I rocked up to his apartment in a fury.

“What the hell did I do wrong that you don’t want to talk to me?!” I asked as soon as he opened his door, pushing past him and dropping my back on the sofa.

“Are you kidding?” he asked, then scoffed. “You put yourself in danger and I’m not allowed to be angry?!” His voice matched mine, the anger dripping from his words.

I shook my head. “No! You put yourself in danger more often than I have and I have never been allowed to be angry at you! I was doing my job, Spence! A dumb bullet just grazed my skin. It’s not like I was inside a building that exploded or got shot in the fucking knee! I’m fine!”

Spencer’s face faltered. His eyes fell to the floor as he tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. “I was… I was scared to lose you, y/n. I heard you were shot and you were in the hospital and I just… I couldn’t believe Hotch would ever put your life in danger like that. I just– I can’t stand to lose you.”

Suddenly everything clicked in my mind. Every subtle touch, every glance sent my way, all the coffees he’d bought me or when he ordered my favorite food on cases, … All along, Spencer Reid might have felt the same way for me as I did for him.

As he kept on babbling about how he was so scared to lose me and what the statistics are of people in our field dying during cases, I took a few tentative steps towards him until I was mere inches before him. For a heartbeat, I hesitated, but then a surge of confidence boosted me. I lifted his chin between my index finger and thumb, forcing him to meet my eyes before I softly kissed his lips.

For a second, I thought I’d made the wrong move until he kissed me back. His lips moved with passion and fervor, his hands covering the sides of my face while my hands moved to his waist, fingers gripping at his shirt.

In the midst of our passionate embrace, the weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the heat of our entwined bodies. With each tender caress and fervent kiss, it was as if a lifetime of longing was finally being released, flooding our senses with an overwhelming rush of emotion. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the undeniable truth of our connection, burning brighter than any statistic or fear. As we lost ourselves in the sweet surrender of our love, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, we would face them together, bound by a love that was as unstoppable as it was undeniable. And as the world faded into the background, all that mattered was the beating of our hearts, entwined in a timeless rhythm of love and devotion.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh

Criminal Minds Taglist:

@kenseverything @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess @sylvcaplath @tillypettitt @mordechaisworld @ssameadows @spikedhe4rt @spencers-bookworm @littlemissaddict @kirbybean

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader

126 notes · View notes

secretmellowblog · 8 months

Note

i just dont really understand why theyd target les mis? and like. its interrupting the work of actors and crew and house staff who dont have anything to do with fossil fuel corps. people who just paid to see the show who dont have anything to do with it.

i understand les mis is a show about rebellion and humanity but to me it doesnt make any sense.

( i say this as someone whos probably very unaware and very slow to realize the deeper meaning of things so i apologize if it comes off snobby i am just confused !! /genuine )

I'm very sorry if this comes off as rude but like.... "I don't understand why people would use Les Mis as the symbolic centerpiece of an act of protest/rebellion against the government" is just a very strange thing to say, and I'm genuinely not quite sure how to begin to respond XD. Like....it's literally Les Mis. It is Do You Hear the People Sing. The original novel was written to be a political rallying cry, it was written to bind together activists, and it has been used that way thousands of times since its publication in 1862. It's Les Mis, I don't know what else to tell you XD. Also I know this next comparison isn't perfect, but:

“I don’t understand why Les Amis interrupted Lamarque’s funeral. Obviously I agree with Les Amis’s goals, but was this really the right way to protest? Obviously the government is doing something bad— but was this symbolic event really the right place to talk about it? Why even choose to interrupt this event, and the lives of the workers leading it and everyday people attending it? It wasn’t responsible for what was happening!

Okay, yeah, I get the funeral is ‘symbolically significant.’ I get that Lamarque has become, in popular culture, a symbol of rebellion and resistance against a government’s unfair policies. I get Lamarque’s funeral is a pretty big public event that has a lot of symbolic significance ties to ideas of rebellion against the state.

I get that Lamarque’s words are often seen as a rebellious call to action, so illegally interrupting his funeral could be a statement about resisting tyranny. It could be a call to action playing off the popularity and symbolic role that Lamarque has in the public consciousness.

But at the same time— shouldn’t Les Amis have just gone to the palace and attacked the king directly? Why disrupt this symbolic event instead? They’re not really going after the people responsible!

After all, there were so many people there who just wanted a normal day. They weren’t responsible for what the government was doing and had nothing to do with it. They wanted to see the procession, to hear Lafayette’s speech and grieve a political figure they cared for. They wanted to hear people praise ‘resistance’ in the abstract, without actually doing it.

Weren’t Les Amis disrupting that?

Aren’t Les Amis bad activists? Isn’t disrupting people’s everyday lives for the sake of 'activism' always inherently a bad thing? I’m not against activism, but isn’t doing that kind of disruptive activism rude? Isn’t disrupting the lives of ordinary people just doing their jobs or going out for a special event evil— no matter why you’re doing it, or what your goals are, or whether the government actually is doing something vile that we should start to stage great events rallying against?

Even if this Lamarque's funeral has special significance because of its symbolic pop cultural ties to rebellion against tyranny—shouldn’t they have just avoided rudely interrupting some regular people’s everyday lives?

Protests shouldn’t disrupt things. they should be big parades that don’t make anyone uncomfortable, don’t interrupt anything, and don’t disrupt any aspects of ‘normal people’s daily life.’ No one should ever target symbolic events— like a funeral for a political figure or a musical about revolution— to make a political statement. Protests should be little quiet festivals that cause absolutely no interruption in everyday life so that we can all just safely ignore them, until the climate catastrophe they’re warning us about arrives.”

#les miserables #les mis #sklajdfsf sorry if this comes off as rude its also not my intention. im just a bit baffled XD #but slakdjfsdf #no hard feeligns though kinda #but protest is supposed to be disruptive and to prevent life from continuing as normal #and using Les Mis-- a story that is theoretically about rebellion against tyranny-- as the symbolic centerpiece of a disruptive protest #makes a lot of sense #and protests angrily decrying fossil fuel companies is important!#ive noticed its really easy to glorify the concept of protest/resistnace in the abstract #but its hard to deal with the fact a lot ground-level protest. is disruptive to every day people #because its suppsoed to be #and honestly the climate crisis will affect our daily lives far more than student activists interrupting a show #so people wll need to get refunds XD

236 notes · View notes

babybluebex · 3 months

Note

i keep thinking about falling for co-star Dom…becoming more and more affectionate on/off set, spending all of your time off together…and yet you both walk around telling everyone “we are just besties lmao” because you’re both oblivious as hell

no bc i really love this idea, like being his co-star in the next movie he makes after holdovers and he has a lingering anxiety, wondering if holdovers was a fluke and he isn't actually good at his job, and then he meets you at the table read for the film and he's head over heels instantly, your smile and laugh are infectious, you've done your studying for the film and your part, a pro in every sense of the word (also helps that he thinks you're stunningly gorgeous, even in your fresh-off-the-plane sweats and cap at the table read)

your characters play a married couple, and he sees the headlines criticizing the casting decision of him at 21 and people saying he doesn't look old enough to be married and that makes the anxiety and doubt creep in even more, but he has to put it aside, and you make it easy for him to ease up

filming your scenes together, and your director is very free and easy, she lets you and dom sorta feel your own way through scenes and how your characters would act, and she's very open with "if you feel like you'd say/do something a different way, go for it" and you notice that dom seems to be doing the classic actor move of Making A Choice where he's always looking at you? but eh whatever your characters are married and he's leaning into the "good husband" trope

but you're always giggling together and cracking jokes on set, and after you wrap for the day, you will both go back to dom's trailer and accidentally cosplay as a couple, you'll cook dinner together and watch movies and more often than not, you'll fall asleep on his couch, and it happens so often that crew quickly figures out to go to dom's trailer to get you for hair/makeup

the end of filming is getting close, and you have to start doing lil interviews for promotion and for digital release as "special features", and you're asked about working with dom and you're complimentary "oh he's so good at what he does, he knows what he wants to do, very secure in his character, and other than that, dom's just a good guy, it's super easy to like him and to be pretend to be in love with him" and you later ask what dom said about you and he seems avoidant a little? "oh yknow, just that you're a good actor and a cool person and good friend" like oh! ok! cool!

once you wrap, you're immediately onto another project, and you and dom sorta lose touch, it's not planned, you just both get busy, but you reunite for the press tour and it's like no time has passed, you're back laughing and cracking jokes together, best friends forever, and dom starts being very?? outright flirty?? it used to be more lowkey but the press tour is like he's turning it to 11, he'll fix your hair for you if it's falling over your shoulder weird and mumble "beautiful as ever", and like will say something "our director was really good, she believed in us and gave us flexibility in our characters... right, baby?" and looks at you and you're like "oh! i'm baby!" and he laughs "f'course you are, you thought i was talking to someone else?"

and it becomes A Thing of how you two are flirting and everyone thinks you're definitely dating, especially when you roll up to a film festival and have a dress malfunction, your zipper breaks while you're actively on the carpet in front of the cameras, and dom doesn't hesitate for a second before he's taking off his suit jacket (blatantly violating the dress code of the film festival in the process) and putting it on you to help hide the gaping zipper in the back, and eh whatever it's a beachfront venue and it's cold and windy, you'll take his jacket

and everything comes to a head when, at the film festival, dom is once again asked how it was to work with you, and he basically rattles off andrew garfield's "she was a shot of espresso, being bathed in sunlight" speech, and you can't hold it back anymore, you HAVE to talk to him, and you do, it's terrible timing because you're minutes from going on the panel for your film but you need answers NOW, and you ask "why would you say that stuff about me?" and he's confused "didn't you... i thought you'd like it?"

"i do! but people think we're dating, and that didn't help!"

"jesus, i'm really sorry... i was just— i thought you'd understand by now, but i guess—"

"understand what??" and you're like oh crap. oh CRAP!!!

"i think i've loved you since the first day i met you" he says "but you never— and it's nothing you did wrong, it's ok that you don't feel the same way— you never said anything back so i just assumed you didn't understand so i kept putting it on thicker so you'd get it, but... i see it now, i'm sorry, i-i'll stop"

"i... dominic, i'm so sorry... but i really am just so fucking dumb, i thought you were just being a good friend and that i was reading too far into it... but i really like you. a lot. i like when you call me baby and help me with my outfit, and when you take pictures of me on your little kodak and when you let me have the last bite of your dinner, and i love how your eyes get all big and glassy when you look at me, like you're trying so hard to let me see myself as you see me... i know it's so much to ask, but—"

and he reads your mind and draws you into his body, and he kisses you like he needs to breathe, his hands firm on your waist as you card through his perfect curls, and you both get lost in it, for a moment the world is only you and him, but that ends quickly when you're being told that you have a minute before the panel starts, and you sorta laugh when you see dom's mouth tinted and streaked by your lipstick, and there's no time to fix that, so you smooth down his hair as best as possible and watch blush fill his entire face and neck and ears, and you sit next to each other at the panel, fingers locked together, grinning at each other like lovesick fools

becaue you are. and always have been. <3

#bex answers #anon ask #dominic sessa #dominic sessa x reader

101 notes · View notes

ynbabe · 2 months

Note

Hii, could you do a part two of "bite me"? I love reading these types of stories <33

Bloody red ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU

| Part 1 | Heyyy y'all- I'M BACK!!! Okay so reader is at the end for this but I promise y'all will love this- it's Charles, how could one not? Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you wanna see next! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

Charles could almost throw up from the sight in front of him, he was exaggerating of course but it was close.

A large spread of food- human food. The drivers had all gone out to celebrate, he didn't know what, maybe it was a pity meal after the absolute mess in Australia. He hoped so, looking at how George and Logan looked- faces pale, eyes dark, looking like they could throw up.

Across from him Fernando hadn't touched the food and was sipping on his suspiciously red win, Lance sat to his right and Checo to his left. He spoke animatedly to the Red Bull driver in fast and whispered Spanish and Lance gossiped, loud (for the vampire) in French to Esteban, who seemed equally engrossed in what the Canadian was saying.

Charles swallowed thickly, it wasn't as if he couldn't eat human food it was just that it tasted bland and quite frankly gross to him and Fernando, whom he still suspected to be a vampire. How could he not? That man was surprisingly fit for a man of 40... not that 40 was old.

He fiddled with the spaghetti on his plate but finally gave in an shoved it in his mouth, swallowing like it pained him to do so.

When he looked back up, he saw Fernando staring at him, with a look on his face that Charles couldn't for the life of him figure out. So he decided to torture that old man, why not?

"The food's nice isn't it Nando?" He asked, pulling the table's attention to the two, he smirked as he saw the older man's eyes widen for a second before he regained composure and smiled- no smirked back.

"Yes, yes, it is," he replied, his accent thick, "You don't seem to have eaten much though, not to your taste?" he stressed the last word in an insinuating manner, the meaning lost on all others who were listening in, but he knew, he knew that he knew that he knew- okay this was getting confusing.

"Oh no, I like it, your plate has been empty though?" This was fun, Fernando shook his head and returned to his wine, everyone on the table seemed to have moved on, other than a few prying eyes, unknown to the two drivers.

As the night went on the herd began to thin, as most of the younger drivers- Max, Lando, Oscar (on Lando's insistence, which consisted of him dragging the poor boy out with him,) Zhou, Pierre, Alex, Carlos, Yuki and of course, Daniel had decided to go clubbing. Nico, Kevin, Checo, Valtteri and Esteban had returned to their hotels, tired of the weekend and its festivities.

Left at the table were Fernando and Lance, who seemed to be having a hushed conversation, too soft even for his ears, George and Logan, who seemed to be slightly panicked about something and Lewis who was paying the bill, but just as he was done, he nodded at Fernando in some sort of silent agreement and headed out, patting the drivers in his way, including Charles, on the back and gracing the others with a small wave.

The Aston-Martin driver's conversation finally ends, the younger man laughing at something Nando said as he gets up from the chair and walks away.

Then suddenly, all Fernando's attention is on Charles, unwavering, eyes like a hunter on his prey, "You know," he says nonchalantly, leaning back, "and you know that I know," his eyes still piercing into his own, "So what are we going to do about it?"

Charles knows there's no real danger, after all, he couldn't hurt him without having his secret out, right? Regardless he's terrified, but he's also a gutsy, annoying little shit, so he responds in kind.

"Nothing," and bares his fangs, sipping his own cup of wine, it actually was just wine. He felt pride as Fernando's face morphed into shock.

"This... this I did not expect," he surrendered, hands in the air, "but, I am not unhappy," he smiled, baring his fangs back the monegasque.

Somewhere further along the long table, they were seated at, something clattered, making the two vampires turn their necks at breakneck speeds, well for humans at least.

"What... the fuck!" The American cursed, the tall Brit ext to him equally shocked, his jaw locked shut.

Oh god, how could they forget about them? They were truly screwed now.

"George, think about this-" he began but he was cut off by him opening his pursed mouth which let a small stream of blood dribble out.

Before he had a chance to think the American opened his mouth, teeth- no fangs, stained red. They lifted the small metal decanter they had been drinking from throughout the dinner, he'd just assumed it was alcohol.

"Okay then, " Nando sighed and chugged from his glass of what he now knew was blood. He motioned for the two boys to come closer and they looked around before speeding to sit next to the older man, George where Lance was once seated and Logan where Esteban was.

All he could do was stare, "W-who? What?" slipped out his mouth before he could stop it.

"Well, I was turned very long ago," Fernando confessed.

"How long?" He asked,

"Let's just say Formula was as interesting in the '50s," he smiled, making the three younger men exclaim in various degrees of disbelief.

"That's- impossible, what?" Logan called out, clearly shocked.

"You're a vampire and that's what you think is impossible?" George sassed.

"Yeah? And whose fault is that?" Logan snarked back, using an unused baguette to smack the taller blonde across the head making him hiss in reply.

"Well, I was going to ask who turned you but I guess that's answered," Fernando said, looking at the younger boys.

"Wait, who turned you, George?" Charles asked.

"Lewis, he didn't mean to... it just kind of happened," the boy shrugged.

"And you, Predestinado?" Nando asked, ever theatrical but Charles was a little ashamed now.

"I- uh, I don't know actually," He replied making the other three look at him in concern.

"It happened at a club and I've been feeding off my girlfriend, ever since..." he let out and watched as Logan and George moved closer to each other and Nando sighed.

"Y/n, yes? She's a good kid, Charli, try not to hurt her, this life... it is not an easy one, you know," he warned but the look in his eyes told Charles he was speaking from experience.

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

The door opened just as you had dozed off, tired of waiting for Charles.

"Y/n, belle, are you awake, Cheri?" he whispered as he walked into the expensive hotel room.

You startled awake, immediately smiling at your boyfriend. He laid next to you and you moved to let yourself burrow into his arms, head on his chest. At first the lack of a heart beat scared you , but now it was almost comforting, knowing the the sounds you heard were your blood running through his veins.

"Bebe, you will not belive who else is a Vampire," he started off, making you awaken more properly than before.

"There's more of you?" you questioned in shock, leading to perhaps the most important gossip session of your life.

116 notes · View notes

wardenparker · 8 months

Text

Vampire Waltz - ch 3

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships.* Wicca, anxiety (making friends takes spoons), self-doubt, lots of secrets being kept, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: Making new friends isn't always easy, but when those new friends are the local coven sometimes it's a lot easier than you think! Notes: The portrayal of Wiccan characters in this story is based on my own experience and the experiences of people I know personally. It's very safe to say that almost all practitioners have their own special way of doing things and each coven is a little different, so we're just going with what we know. 🧡🧹🍁 A little insight into Dolly's mansion: this chapter image is the fireplace in the morning room at the real life Chateau-sur-Mer!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

Waking up to no alarm, no banging or crashing around the house, and no feeling of terror at being late for work is a very strange sort of miracle. The sun is up and the clock on the mantle reads eight o’clock, but the house is silent. That in and of itself is odd, but what is stranger is that you don’t remember getting into bed last night. Popping up from the plush pillows, you find yourself covered with your own comforter and still in your clothes from yesterday, but your book is sitting neatly on the chaise and the window is shut. Did you just have the weirdest ass dream in the world about petting a bat and reading to it? You must have. Right? There is no way that actually happened…

There’s a soft knock on the door. Hearing you stir slightly has Renee waiting for you to give permission to enter before she turns the handle and smiles as she walks in. “Good morning, Dolly.” She murmurs softly. “Would you like a breakfast tray here or would you prefer to eat in the dining room?” Learning your preferences is key and since Mrs. Taylor is handling the blood from the blood bank in the kitchen right now, she doesn’t want you wandering in.

“Morning Renee.” A little groggy from the confusion of how you woke up, you dig the palm of your hand into your eye and smother a yawn. “I’ll come downstairs, you don’t have to bring a tray all the way up.” You’re more than capable of going downstairs, of course. And if your roommates are downstairs you don’t want to seem rude or standoffish.

“It’s no problem.” Renee protests. “Max and Eddie have already eaten, having early morning schedules.”

Somehow you didn’t figure Max for an early riser, but you shrug off that detail and offer her a smile. “I’ll still come down,” you decide. “Maybe a trip into town would be good today? Just to check things out and get to know the area.” It’s Mabon, but you don’t know if anyone else in the house is pagan or Wiccan or would be offended by having witchy holidays brought up, so you don’t say anything. Instead you’ll just quietly get a few fall-themed things for your room and not bother anyone else with it.

“It is the beginning of the autumn equinox, so perhaps it would be good for you to tour around.” Renee nods. “Mrs. Taylor and I will be setting the house up and Mr. Taylor will be decorating.”

“How did you—?” It’s like she was reading your mind, and you tilt your head slightly in curiosity. “I don’t suppose Newport has an autumn festival or a farmer’s market this weekend?” It’s too much to ask that there might be a community of witches nearby, but your parents’ Wiccan upbringing has seeped into your bones and happily stuck there.

The younger housekeeper nods with a small chuckle. “Of course there is. We are only two hours from Salem.” She explains. “This is a magical time of year where traditions outweigh conservatism.”

“Then I think I’ll head into town after breakfast.” The idea of fresh air and maybe hearing someone wish others a Blessed Mabon again gives you a comfort you didn’t know you needed.

“If you need any directions or would like to be driven around, just let me know.” Renee tells you before she hums. “Oh, would you like to drive the Volvo or the Corvette?” She asks. “Mr. Taylor was in the process of giving the Volvo a tune up, but he can have it available for you whenever you need.”

“I don’t want to bother or interrupt anyone.” You insist right away, sitting up and moving to the edge of your bed. “I guess…I’ll drive the Corvette? It’s…that is okay, right?”

“Of course.” She gives you a smile, having already concluded that you will be asking permission for things rather than just doing. Perhaps in time it will change, but she will just roll with it for now.

“Okay.” Adjusting to the idea that these things are yours to do with as you please is going to take a long time, but you nod. “I’ll be down in a few minutes, then.”

“Of course.” She repeats, nodding respectfully and turning to slip out of the room. She will let Mr. Taylor know to pull the corvette out of the carriage house and tell Mrs. Taylor that you are ready for breakfast.

******

It seems like Newport has two parts. There is the ritzy, expensive, even touristy part of town — and then there is the old New England side of things. The locals are a little crotchety but ultimately nice enough, and one even pointed out his favourite coffeeshop to you when you finally ambled your way into the farmer’s market nearby. There are farm stands and crafts people, handmade goods and stalls from small businesses selling everything from soap and tea to jewelry and housewares. It’s an autumn festival minus the feast, but with all the food for sale it won’t be hard to make a feast of your own.

“Miss?” The vendor for the Say Cheese! booth, a gourmet, small batch cheese producer, tries to catch your attention. “Would you like to try some of our caramelized onion and thyme goat cheese?” She asks, offering a tray of the creamy spread that has been smeared on crackers. “Or we have honey and fig if onions aren’t you’re thing.”

You almost want to ask if it’s okay to try both, but that seems greedy until you turn and find a girl about your age with a shiny ’She/Her’ pronoun pin affixed to her apron alongside a name tag that reads ‘Allison’ in curving, cheery lettering. A foam witch’s hat is stuck to the corner and covered in purple glitter, making it extra chipper. “That sounds wonderful,” you say instead, nodding and stepping closer to the booth.

“It is.” She insists. “Although the pumpkin spiced brie can be a little…targeted.” She laughs and shrugs. “But it’s actually pretty good.”

“I’m a big fan of pumpkin spice.” The little witch hat makes you smile and you shrug. “Don’t they say that clove, cinnamon, and ginger keep evil away in folklore? That’s most of what pumpkin spice is.”

“To be honest?” She grins conspiratorially. “Most in my coven are thrilled that it’s become so popular. Protection while not even being aware.”

“You have a—?” You nearly freeze when she says out so freely - so openly - and blow out a happy breath. Happy is an odd feeling. “Blessed Mabon.”

“Blessed Mabon.” Her smile deepens and her eyes light up with delight. “May your harvest be bountiful and your light bright.”

“May the equinox bring you abundance and joy.” That was always your mother’s favourite way to return a Mabon blessing, and you had adopted it over the years. Not that you had had anyone to celebrate with in years, but that’s different. “I—I’m so glad to meet you.” Despite Renee assuring you that there are plenty of pagans, Wiccans, and witches in Newport, you hadn’t just expected to run into one first thing.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen you here before.” Allison comments as she starts to load up a small taster plate with an assortment of cheeses for you to try. “Are you just visiting or new to the area?”

“I just moved.” Though you’re wary of giving more detail than that, this woman is beaming and friendly. “Just trying to get out and see the town a little this morning and you’re the first person I’ve actually met.”

“Then that means we are connected.” Allison beams, reaching behind her neck and removes the smoky quartz crystal that is hanging on a delicate chain. “Here. A welcoming gift for you. It had been blessed during Beltane.”

She does not mean to be anything but kind and perhaps generous, but the gesture of a gift almost has you in tears as she presses the crystal into you stunned, frozen palm. It’s such a small gesture to her, no doubt, but any kind of gift nearly has you in tears that you have to wave off quickly. “Everyone has been so kind since I got here,” you explain quickly. Everyone but Max, you think just as quickly, but she doesn’t need to know your saga. Especially when your other hand has the sample plate in it now and you can’t even recall her putting it there. “It’s overwhelming. In a good way.”

“Our community can be very friendly.” She chatters happily. “Perhaps a bit odd, but that always comes with the supernatural, right?”

"Usually." You smile a little, eventually closing your fingers around the crystal and nodding gratefully. "Thank you...Allison." Her nametag is just out there shining in the sun and you gesture toward it before you introduce yourself.

“You are most welcomed.” She hands you the plate with a slight flourish. “Please let me know what you like out of these cheeses.” She tells you. “And, if you are interested, we have the harvest bonfire tonight.”

"Really?" Again your head shoots up in surprise, and the question is muffled around a bite of the pumpkin spice brie that makes you groan immediately in delight.

“Absolutely.” She winks at you and grins at the absolute bliss on your face. “It’s the first night of the spooky season. We have an eclectic group that comes together. Maybe you would like to meet some spiritual sisters?”

"My roommates were talking about decorating the house." It's still odd to think of having roommates - of living with anyone besides Derek - but remembering the little bat from your dream does make you smile. "I haven't had a coven since college. It...would be really nice to have a community again."

“We are welcoming to all.” She promises and pulls out a little card that has the information on it. “We start a little before sundown, socialize and relax.” She tells you. “Please come. It’s always fun.”

"Thank you." Your quiet murmur is full of gratitude, and moments later when the samples are gone from the little plate, you are buying all three flavours of cheese and whatever else Allison recommends from the stand she is working at. With the ability to actually spend money comes the desire to make sure that it goes to people who will actually benefit directly from your purchases - it's going to be a lot of farmers markets for you in the future and not so much time spent in big chain grocery stores.

Once the transaction is completed, Allison smiles at you. “I hope to see you later?” She asks questioningly.

"I think so." There is always a chance you'll get too anxious and freak yourself out a bit, but you nod. You want to have the emotional energy to make new friends tonight. Maybe you'll cut your outing short earlier in the day so that you don't run out of steam. It's been a long time since you had something you actually wanted to do like this. "Is--can I bring anything?" Always taught never to show up empty handed, you'll surely end up bringing something no matter what the answer is.

“An opened mind and heart.” Allison shakes her head. “Our guests are never required to bring anything more. It will be our pleasure to host you this evening.”

"I'll see you tonight." You will make it work. And besides -- the trip out this morning will have to be quick. You've got precious cheese to get back home.

******

“I hope that she is okay.” Mrs. Taylor glances out the window with a frown on her face. “She seems like such a timid thing. So surprising about that, considering.”

“We don’t know what she’s been through,” Renee reminds the older woman, methodically working her way through folding the last of your laundry. There was a lot of it that seemed barely touched — fun things like dresses and logo tees or more fitted things — and looser, more office work clothing and jeans that are surely baggy on you, that look far more worn. “A lot’s happened in her life. Or at least…a lot could have happened.”

“It makes me want to protect her.” Mrs. Taylor admits quietly. She’s never had children of her own, but that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have a motherly instinct. “No wonder he wanted her brought here.”

“He should have been able to protect her before now.” Renee tuts, carefully folding a sweater depicting a black cat perched like they’re in a windowsill. “But that’s none of our business, of course.”

“There were reasons.” She’s not sure what those reasons are, but there’s very little he does that doesn’t have reasoning behind it.

“I’m sure.” She isn’t, not really, but Renee has never been the one to make the decisions. She prefers it that way. “At least we can do our part in taking care of her now.”

“Of course we can. It’s why he had her brought here.” She’s incredibly proud of her role in taking care of Cookie and there is a lot of trust that was placed in her hands to do that. Renee hasn’t been with the family quite as long, so she doesn’t understand that quite yet. “Perhaps we can put together a lovely tea time when she gets back.”

“I’ll be surprised if she doesn’t come back with a few things from the farmer’s market.” The thought of you settling in makes the younger woman smile and she sets the stacks of your folded clothes into the dresser beside her. “We can make a tray with some of what she finds?” As if on cue, the front door opens and closes, the sound reverberating through the house despite being gentle. “Hopefully that’s her,” Renee hums, quickly depositing the last of your clean things in the bureau and heading for the stairs.

Nodding, Mrs. Taylor quickly follows the younger housekeeper out of the bedroom to see who has come inside. Mr. Taylor is finishing up with the car out in the carriage house but he would come in the back door.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Renee is the first to spot you, looking a little more relaxed than when you left this morning and caring many more bags. “Please, allow me.”

“Oh, it’s okay, Renee.” The fresh air has you feeling better, after having spent hours at the farmer’s market and debating whether or not to take a walk around the nearest bakery or florist shop, only to end up overwhelmed by the change in the people in those places. They were tourists - obviously wealthy and snobbish - and not nearly as friendly as the people you��d met at the market. “Only…” You separate out the bag that has your precious cheeses in it. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind putting these in the refrigerator for me? The farmer’s market had amazing things.”

“Absolutely.” She beams, happy that you had found things that you wanted at the market. “Mrs. Taylor was just suggesting putting together a tea tray for you. Would you like anything from here on it?” She asks, wanting you to have some input.

“There is a spiced plum tea and some goat cheese with fig that—” As soon as the thought begins, you frown and shake your head, becoming tight and self-conscious again. “You don’t have to trouble yourselves. I can take care of it. I—don’t want to give either of you more work than you already have.”

"Of course." She nods, but she has no intention of listening to you. There is plum tea and fig goat cheese that you have fallen in love with, so that will be added to the tray along with the tea sandwiches that Mrs. Taylor has no doubt already started making in the kitchen.

“I’ll just go and put these things upstairs first.” Crystals, candles, some waxed flowers, and cute little needlepointed pillow with a bat in a pile of leaves have all come home with you and they’re going to help your space feel a little more personal instantly.

"I'll bring the tray up in just a moment," Renee turns. "Unless you would like to have tea in the morning room?" The light is bright and airy in there and it's a lovely space for a tea service.

“You don’t have to—” Her face makes it abundantly clear that there will be a tea tray and the only conversation she’s willing to entertain about it is the location in which you will be receiving it. “The morning room would…it sounds very nice,” you admit after a breath. “Thank you, Renee.”

"There was a book on your bedside table this morning." She mentions quietly. "Would you like me to bring it down so you can read, or is that an evening book?"

“That’s an old favorite.” The hundred-year-old copy of Jane Eyre has even seeped its way into your dreams, but you enjoyed it thoroughly. “I’ll pick something else from the shelves for day reading.” It’s such a luxury, and it’s hard to process that that is your life now. Luxury. Doing whatever you want. No one is going to stop you.

"Of course." This time the nod is accompanied by a small smile before the assistant housekeeper rushes off to make sure that your tea tray includes the small little treats you had brought back from your first trip to the town.

The small bags with goodies in them are easily deposited in your room, where you notice that your childhood throw blanket with ballet slippers prominently featured has been folded and left at the bottom of your chaise, and your bed has been made again. It’s not bad, it’s just…odd. Something your great-aunt was so used to and maybe occasionally even took for granted…that you will have to remind yourself is perfectly reasonable. Refocusing yourself, you put down your bags and take the little throw pillow out, deciding to bring it down to the morning room window seat with you. It will be a sweet little thing to have with you, and you can bring it upstairs again afterward so that you don’t get in anyone’s way.

******

"She has been to the farmer's market and would like to use the plum tea and the fig goat cheese." Renee hums happily as she sweeps into the kitchen with the bag you had given her. As she had expected, the little three tiered display is already layered with little sandwiches on the bottom. She's sure some are cucumber and others are the curry chicken salad she had been experimenting with.

“I’m sure she insisted she would do it herself, and that we shouldn’t trouble ourselves?” Mrs. Taylor raises one eyebrow but continues her work on the tea server, adding orange flavored Madeline cakes to the top tier.

"You know she did." Renee tuts and rolls her eyes, although she's not bad mouthing you. "I will start to brew the tea."

“Did it seem she enjoyed herself at least?” The two women are very coordinated in the kitchen and move gracefully around each other as Renee starts the kettle and Mrs. Taylor puts the other cheeses away. There are some lovely crackers in the pantry that she can include to go with the cheese you particularly wanted to enjoy today.

"There was light in her eyes that was not there yesterday." Renee confirms as she brings out the silver teapot to set on the tray. Ms. Brown's favorite tea set is already laid out and tomorrow, Renee will suggest rotating the sets until they are certain of which ones that you prefer. She pulls out the canister with the sugar cubes to put into the small dish. "I would say that she enjoyed herself very much."

“We can finish decorating for the autumn this afternoon.” Mrs. Taylor decides, working quickly to make sure the tea service is just so. “Mr. Taylor brought the rest of the decorations down from the attic for us and Mr. Finchley suggested adding some garlands to the outer gates.”

“That sounds good.” Renee agrees. “I think that it will be good to have a sense of ‘life’ back in the mansion.”

“As it were.” Mrs. Taylor chuckles as she arranges the seeded crackers on the tea stand. “With so many undead about, it seems an ironic choice.”

“I honestly wonder if there doesn’t need to be a human in the house.” Renee muses. “When it was just us, there was something missing. I’m sure that I’m not the only one who felt it.”

After a moment, the younger woman hums again. “There does seem to be an extra element of activity with a human around.” For Renee, it is treasured. She was turned hundreds of years ago but she is still pulled toward humanity for so many reasons other than their blood. “Do you think…perhaps Eddie has taken a shine to her already?”

“He has.” Mrs. Taylor looks up from arranging the crackers with just the perfect amount of cheese with a hopeful smile. “I’m not sure if it’s brotherly or romantic yet, but our dear Eddie so needs another tender heart around.”

“Wonderful.” Renee sighs. “It would most wonderful for everyone to be happy.” But after a moment more of consideration, she chews on her lip and turns her head back to the older vampire. “Is Max trying to irritate Dolly?” She asks warily.

“He might be.” And it bothers the housekeeper to no end, knowing how timid you are. “He doesn’t know…” she shakes her head, carefully cutting coins of the goat cheese you found today. “If he did, he would leave well enough alone.”

“Or he would be trying to smooze her.” Renee snorts. “Which might be even worse than irritating her. If he touches her, he might stake him and not bring him back again.”

“We would be getting a surprise visit immediately if Max decided to do that.” Considering the way their boss had behaved when suitors arrived for the other young lady of the house so long ago.

Renee winces and shakes her head. “He will stay away if he knows what’s good for him.” She huffs with a smirk, knowing Max Phillips is nothing if not egotistical enough to try to play some game with you.

“But he doesn’t,” Mrs. Taylor reminds Renee as she puts the finishing touches on the food our your tea tray. “That’s how he ended up here in the first place.”

“I remember.” Renee snorts. “I had to take care of him when he was first brought back and his new skin was raw.”

“I still don’t understand why he felt strongly enough to bring Max back.” It was a mystery that Mrs. Taylor had not quite parceled out yet, but she certainly spent more time thinking about it than she let on.

“Of all the vampires he could have brought back.” Renee hums, shaking her head. “Max Phillips is the one he chose.”

“He will have had his reason.” Although what it is, Mrs. Taylor has yet to figure out. Instead she sets silverware and a cloth napkin on the service cart with the tiered server and dishes. The only thing missing now is the tea, and that should be ready momentarily.

As soon as the teapot starts to whistle, Renee pulls it off the heat and flips open the lid to the serving teapot, pouring the hot water in to infuse with the tea leaves you had brought home. Closing the lid with a satisfied smile. “There. Now I will deliver this to Dolly.”

“Will you let her know that dinner can be served wherever she likes tonight?” Mrs. Taylor wipes her hands and begins to pick up the counter right away. “Eddie and Max will both be out. I didn’t ask why, but it will be good for her to be able to relax.”

“Yes ma’am.” Renee wheels the cart out of the kitchen towards the elevator.

******

Upstairs, you have unearthed a first edition copy of Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle and settled back in the window seat with your little pillow and the muted afternoon sun. Every window in the house seems to be coated with something that tints the light the barest shade of yellow and you wonder vaguely if it was some Victorian architecture fad. Or if architecture even has things like fads.

Wheeling the cart into the ‘secret’ room, Renee finds you already settled into the window seat and smiles. “Tea is served.” She announces, happy to see that you do not startle when she comes in. Yesterday you looked like you would jump out of your skin, but something about the new day seems to have settled you.

"You really didn't have to." Although you had a feeling that she might. Mrs. Taylor is the type to do things properly or not at all, and Renee is her dutiful second in command. "Thank you, of course." Grateful as you are, you put your book aside as Renee sets the cart beside you by the window.

“My pleasure.” She nods respectfully and steps back. “Mrs. Taylor and I are going to finish decorating this afternoon, but we will be available anytime you need us.”

"Thank you," you murmur again, catching a whiff of the spiced tea that you brought home and rolling over in your mind whether you want to venture out of the house tonight. Allison was so friendly, but you're nervous. "Renee...can I ask you something?"

“Anything.” Her job is to take care of the house and you are now a part of that. Anything you need, any questions you have, she will help as much as she can.

"I was invited to an event tonight." As silly as you feel about asking a virtual stranger for her opinion, Renee has been so kind to you at every turn. So you pull the little card that Allison gave you out of your pocket and hand it to the young woman. "A local coven is having a Mabon bonfire. I only..." you frown slightly, feeling small as you shrink against the wall. "I don't know if I ought to go? Or if that would be imposing too much."

There was a time that vampires and witches were enemies. At that time, she would have encouraged you to keep your distance. That had changed over the millennia and they had joined forces to keep the secrets of the world away from the humans, except for rare exceptions. “Allison?” She smiles as she looks down a the card. “You should go. I was supposed to tell you that dinner will be served wherever you wish tonight, but I think you will be out during the dinner hour.”

"I haven't had a coven in so long." When Renee hands the card back to you, it ends up cradled in your hands like precious cargo. "And she was so terribly nice."

“I know her vaguely. She’s extremely nice.” She agrees. “She would come to visit Ms. Brown sometimes.”

"Was...Ms. Brown...?" Somehow the image of this ninety-one-year-old woman that you had in your head with the first phone call from the lawyer's office has already changed twice over in the very little time you've been here, but you still hadn't expected this find out she was Wiccan.

“A witch?” Her brow arches up and she purses her lips in amusement that you cannot quite come out with the questions you need answered. “Oh yes. Probably the greatest witch in Newport, perhaps the East Coast. She oversaw the coven for years until….” She shakes her head. “Until her heart was no longer in it. Then she allowed others to take over.”

"Do you mind if I ask you what changed?" You could understand if age or infirmity had kept her from being as active in her coven, but this is not what it sounds like Renee is saying.

“She….lost someone close to her.” Renee knows she is not permitted to tell you the truth, that would have to come from him, at his discretion. However, acknowledging some of the reasoning behind Cookie’s change of heart cannot be too bad. “Very dear to her.”

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” It feels like intruding to ask more, so you only nod your understanding and leave the topic alone for now. “Well…thank you, Renee. Again. I think I will go out tonight after all.” It feels heavier now, somehow. More important. And there is a thought in the back of your mind that getting to know this relative you had never met by accepting the invitation of someone she knew is the best possible way to spend your night.

She bites her lip and then nods, as if making up her mind, which she has. “If the tea can hold for a few minutes, perhaps you will allow me to show you something?”

“Of course.” There’s nothing wrong with letting a teapot steep, and you set your book and pillow aside immediately.

“Follow me.” She asks, turning to leave the morning room through the bookcase door.

Through the hidden door in the wall and through to the library, you’re surprised when Renee crosses the room toward the marble hall and pulls open an even more hidden door in the window nook. This one has no visible knob but is activated with the pull of a false book exactly like a spooky story or horror film. A room no bigger than a closet houses an elaborate spiral staircase that seems to crawl up toward the sky and Renee beckons for you to follow. Up and up and up, the ornately carved wooden staircase just keeps going until you’re sure there can’t possibly be any house left, because you’ve counted to four floors and you were certain the place only had three.

When the stairs run out, they deliver you into the most incredible open room covered in overlapping rugs and thick, heavy, blue velvet curtains. The ceiling is painted like the night sky — blue-black with silver and gold stars and an immense chandelier that hangs high in the middle of the room. Renee has moved to the wall quickly, pressing a button that turns on the electric lights in the chandelier and lights up the room. The shape of the sloping gold and purple-fabric covered walls and ceiling tell you that you’re in the top of the East tower on the left of the house, but the point is driven home when you can see out the tinted window to the front yard. In front of the window, though, is a sizable altar all decorated in candles and a myriad of different size bowls of many materials. To the left is a bronze statue of a goddess and to the right in a black marble statue of a god - the two images presiding over the rest of the altar like the dutiful deities they are.

“This was her ‘spell room’ as Cookie liked to call it.” Renee tells you fondly. Even though they had believed that the room might never be used again, it is meticulously dusted. A labor of love to the woman who had used it before you. Now, Renee was proud to believe that the tradition of a witch in Chateau-sur-Mer would continue.

“I guess it really does run in the family…” Carefully stepping up to the altar, you hum with satisfaction to see that the goddess statue depicts Persephone and the god is Hades — favorite deities of yours, as well. “My parents were witches, too. Our altar at home had statues of Artemis and Apollo. My mother loved the idea of the balance between moon and sun.”

Renee nods, keeping her face neutral. “Another good set of deities.” She agrees.

“This is amazing…” There are elements of old traditions and new all over the room. A hand sewn broom leans against a case of carefully crafted poppets. An enormous collector cabinet dominates the far wall with labels for every herb and potion ingredient you can think of, and a circular scrying table stands ready in the middle of the room. Gothic style chairs surround it, suggesting it was used for much more than just scrying. “I never would have guessed,” you admit, looking back at Renee in wonder. “Not in a thousand years.”

“That is a good thing.” She tells you with a grin. “It’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Then it will stay a secret.” You make a motion out zipping up your lips, locking them, and throwing away the key. “Is it…a secret from other people in the house?” Noticing other doors off of the room, you curiously poke your head over to see if any of the doors are open. Most are open archways, but one door is firmly shut.

“No. The - they know of it.” It was never a secret here what Cookie was, not when this was her refuge.

“Okay.” Nodding, you look back at the door and then to Renee. “Is there a key for this door?” The handle hadn’t budged when you tried it, and fortunately you hadn’t seen the maid flinch, either.

“There is a key.” She bites her lip and wonders if you want it bad enough to go in there.

“One I would assume Mrs. Taylor has?” The blinding fear of curiosity in your chest is a little nerve wracking, and you try to push it aside even though it has your blood beating in your ears. Forcing yourself to smile and step away from the door that has all of your focus narrowed on it, you swallow and feel the tingles of nerves all through your veins. “Tea will be cold if we stay up here much longer,” you decide, steadily trying to ignore the door that seems to call your name personally.

“Of course, Dolly.” She tilts her head, wondering if she had imagined the shiver that rolls through your body. She focuses on your heartbeat and finds it slightly faster than normal, which is already ticking at a nervous beat.

When you all but flee back downstairs, Renee is at your heels but leaves you to go through to the morning room alone. Or— you thought you would be alone. But when you walk in, Max is sitting in the window seat wrinkling his nose at your tea tray.

Max looks up from the tray that includes nothing bloody and the clove from the tea is nearly overwhelming. Grinning, he thinks about how you had stroked a bat who was sitting in your lap last night. “Hey Dolly.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks on his heels. “Looks like you’ve settled right in. Cozy little tea?”

“Renee— a-and Mrs. Taylor…they—” There is judgement in his voice. An accusation. And instantly you are petrified of what he might think of you. “I didn’t ask for it,” you insist, hands shoved into your pockets instantly as your posture shrinks.

Your reaction is completely off kilter for his good-natured teasing. “Of course you didn’t.” He tuts. “You wouldn’t ask boo from a ghost.”

"I just went to the farmer's market and they were nice enough to make a tray for me." With your eyes trained on the rug, you shrug your shoulders and let your weight shift from one foot to the other awkwardly.

“What smells?” He asks you, moving over to the teapot. “It’s like a batch of potpourri. Very…spicy.”

“Clove and cinnamon. And I think some ginger, too.” The three ingredients remind you of what you and Allison had observed about pumpkin spice and you almost manage a smile. “It’s Plum Spice black tea.”

"It's....pungent." He comments, picking it up and lifting the lid, curling his nose up at the strong scent. Still, he pours the purplish tea into the dainty flowered cup sitting on the small plate. He picks it up and shrugs, "Whadya take in this? Flowers?'

“Flowers can be delicious,” you protest softly, but motion to the tray again. “Sugar or honey, or whatever sweetener you like. I guess you could do cream if you wanted but fruit tea never seemed like a good choice for cream to me.”

Max frowns slightly and adds one sugar cube to the tea and stirs it, before adding a drizzle of honey. Tilting his head and biting his lip as if he were performing delicate surgery before handing it to you.

“I—um…thank you…” You had fully expected him to drink it himself, and when you take the cup from him it’s like you’ve forgotten what to do with it for a second. “Would you, um …want to sit with me?“ Even the most awkward of moments deserve kindness, don’t they?

“Sure.” Max shoots you a grin and sets himself down on the other side of the window seat and uses a small pair of tongs to poke around the three tiered tray. Not even a rare roast beef finger sandwich. He huffs slightly and picks up a cream cake. “So…how did you like the town?” He asks with a smirk to hide the grimace as he takes a bite of the cake. It’s no blood pudding, that’s for sure.

“It’s beautiful.” The turning leaves and picturesque streets that you saw while driving around today were lovely. Perfect for a gorgeous fall day. “And bigger than I thought it would be. I’m pretty sure I saw a cruise ship in the harbor.”

“It’s okay.” Max shrugs as he takes another bite of the cake. “Very slow kind of life here. Am I right?”

“That’s not always bad.” You would take slow and steady over the chaos of uncertainty any day of the week, but Max seems like the kind of person who likes to stay busy.

“Maybe.” It still irks him that Evan got the best of him. Him and that little doormat girlfriend of his. Zara Beth was more to his taste, she had teeth. “Must have been a good night though? Didn’t hear any screams of terror.”

“No, no nightmares or anything like that.” In fact, you’d slept remarkably well considering it was your first night in a new place. The anxiety of uncertainty hadn’t been a problem. And you’d had lovely dreams to boot. “Do you mind if I ask you how long you’ve lived here?”

“Four years.” That admission comes with a distinct grumble.

“And you don’t like it?” You guess, from the way he seems to begrudge that little piece of information.

“It’s not bad.” He huffs. “But it’s more that I’m a --" he stops, shrugging slightly since he has no real reason to grumble besides being told to stay put.

“Maybe you just haven’t found the thing that makes it enjoyable yet.” Everything has a silver lining, you have told yourself many times. Right now your silver lining is that your tea is perfect. Who knew sugar and honey was the way to go?

Max chuckles, knowing that despite not knowing you well, a comment about orgies leaving him unfulfilled wouldn’t go over well. “Maybe. Could always get a pet.”

“That would be sweet.” All of the snacks that were put out for you amount to a sizable lunch, and it isn’t until you start eating Mrs. Taylor’s amazing food that you realize how hungry you were. “What sort of pet?”

“A fox.” Max hums, smirking slightly. “Or a bat. That would be cool.”

“Bats are sweet.” Or, at least, the one you had a dream about last night was adorable. “They get a bad reputation.”

His brow lifts and he settles back against the fluffy, embroidered pillows. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” You agree, taking another sip of your tea. “They’re cute. I mean cats and dogs and stuff are cute too, obviously.”

“A pet bat, huh?” Max hums, wondering if you will admit to your experience last night. “Dogs don’t like me.” It’s a natural reaction, smelling that they aren’t the top of the food chain when he’s around. “Cats just…don’t listen.” He can admire that, but as a moody creature himself, he doesn’t want that reflected in his pet.

“So you’d go for a bat instead?” It actually makes you smile, which might be the first time that you’ve ever smiled at him. It’s half from him and half remembering your extremely vivid dream. “I’ve always wondered if they like to be pet,” you admit after a second.

“They do.” Max can attest to that, but he gives you a shrug. “Watched some bat thing on NatGeo.” He explains. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Good to know.” It somehow makes the dream you had sweeter, and you smile a little wider at the knowledge. The mood between you and Max is calmer now, as if you’ve found a little common ground, as you’re silent for a moment before asking another innocuous question. “Did you have a good morning? Renee said you and Eddie left the house early.”

“Early bird gets the worm.” Max quotes with a grin. “I had some business meetings that I wanted to get out of the way before the sunset tonight.” He hums. “Too many witches out and about.”

The thought that you don’t know any places that do business meetings on Saturdays is walked away instantly by dread. “Do you…” Appetite suddenly gone, you set your teacup on its saucer. “Do you not like witches?” You can’t figure out why you should even care because you don’t much like Max, but somehow it still stings.

“Nah. They’re okay.” He watches you closely. “But I’d rather be socializing tonight than working.” He winks at you and grins.

“I mean it might not be an out-and-out party like Beltane can be, but I would hardly call celebrating Mabon work.” Just like flipping a switch in your mind, the defense that rolls off your tongue is completely automatic. Having spent many years feeling like you either shouldn’t speak about your faith at all or having to defend it when you do, you can’t help yourself — but you clamp your mouth shut immediately when you realize Max is smirking even more widely now.

“Well, well, well.” Despite your fiery outburst, which has a sensation similar to butterflies fluttering in Max’s stomach, he’s nothing short of amused. “Blessed Mabon, Dolly.” He chortles. “The witch of Newport is here to claim her throne.”

“I don’t know anything about a throne…” That definitely should have been mentioned by now if it was literal but you just can’t imagine it would be at all. “But…thank you. A blessed Mabon to you, as well.”

“So do you have plans for the night?” He waggles his brows. “We could dance naked around a fire in the garden.” He suggests playfully.

“I was invited to a bonfire.” You tell him, though it still feels odd to have been invited anywhere at all. “I met someone from the local coven while I was out today.”

“Ah.” He picks up a cracker and small medallion of cheese. “I see. You met…was it Allison or Tracy today?” He asks curiously. The witches are friendly to him, but he’s never taken it beyond flirting.

“Allison.” It takes a second to remember that Renee said that Allison had been around the house when Ms. Brown was alive, so that accounts easily for how Max knows her. “She was working at the Farmer’s Market.”

“So you’re going to the pot luck?” He asks, trying the cheese and finding it to be slightly better than the cake.

“I was planning on it.” Despite knowing he doesn’t technically have a say in what you do, you’re prepared for him to tell you no. To tell you to stay home or give you a reason not to go and meet the rest of the coven. Years upon years of experience have conditioned you to expect a ‘no’ and now you don’t even realize you’re bracing for it.

Max purses his lips and looks out the window. “A good night for it.” He agrees. “Take a sweater, Dolly.” The night can get a little cool after the sun goes down with the wind coming off the water. “It can get brisk after dark and you call if you have too much of the festive punch.” He teases with a smirk.

"I don't drink." The words are quiet but firm, and you pick up a cracker topped with a perfectly round slice of goat cheese. "But I'll bring a sweater." The obediance is automatic, but you dont know if he's giving orders on purpose. Or if he's just trying to give a kind suggestion and your mind has been actively rewired to perceive it as an order.

“So why don’t you drink?” Max asks, keeping his tone conversational for once instead of slightly mocking. You’re still young, and it’s not a religious thing.

"Ex-boyfriend was an alcoholic." It's only just starting to feel real, the 'ex' part, but you shrug. "I know not everyone who drinks overdoes it, but I just...don't like it anymore. Not when I've seen what it can do to someone." Someone I love is the end of that thought, but surely alcohol has fucked up a whole lot of lives that you personally had nothing to do with.

Max’s eyes narrow, his hands - idly playing with the edge of a pillow braid curls into a tight fist - entire body tensing as he sense that there is a lot more to that statement. “Really?” For all his cocksure bravado, Max had manners instilled into him by his own father. And suddenly the actions that seemed bashful when he first met you are making more sense. “Did he drink himself to death?”

"No." When you shake your head, your eyes are back down on the rug immediately. "He drank himself into debt, into irresponsibility, and into anger." Violence would be a more accurate word, but you're not ready to talk about that yet. Not at all. "It--it's lucky that I had this house to come to. That's all."

It’s a good thing that you are looking away from him at the moment, because Max’s eyes flash a deep and unnatural yellow before shifting back into their normal brown as he forces himself to relax. You aren’t his to protect and he doesn’t know why he wants to protect you. He doesn’t know you. “Then it’s good Cookie gave it to you.” He tells you simply, truthfully. He clears his throat and stands up, brushing his tweed pants off and adjusting the cufflinks that are too formal for a Saturday afternoon. “Well….I have some calls to make.” He tells you awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to your tea. Enjoy your Mabon, Dolly.”

"Thank you, Max." It has been unexpected to have so many people around you be supportive about your faith, but what is on your mind more is now that you worry you've said too much. You can't tell if he's affected by your reason for not drinking or simply finds you dull or even prim for the decision, but at least he didn't tease you. That counts for a lot.

Max stares at you for a moment before he nods, turning around and walking out of the main door of the morning room, the sound of his dress shoes quickly fading inside the house.

******

It takes an hour standing in front of the armoire in your room before you finally pull out a dress and tights that are great fall colors. Grabbing a sweater is almost an afterthought, but you did make a promise. And promises are meant to be kept, so you shrug a cardigan on over your shoulders and pull on a pair of boots before going into your dressing room. Renee has set up your few pieces of jewelry and grand total of two purses here along with all of the makeup that Derek used to insist that you wear to look ‘normal’. Ultimately you leave the house in minimal makeup with the sweater you promised you would wear, and the warming container full of stew that Mrs. Taylor had brought upstairs to send with you to the potluck. Apparently it had been a favourite when Ms. Brown used to host the coven at Chateau-sur-Mer.

“While Dolly is out, you can have your ‘wine’.” Mrs. Taylor is almost snickering as she sets a goblet of deep red blood in front of Max when he comes strolling into the kitchen. “I keep telling you that one of those tumbler things with a straw would be less conspicuous, but you like to be dramatic.”

“He calls it a bottle,” Eddie rolls his eyes in amusement as he accepts his favourite coffee mug from Mrs. Taylor, also full of blood. “But I think that’s pretty appropriate since he’s being a big baby about it.”

“It’s Gothically classy.” Max huffs, picking up the wine glass and taking a large gulp of the warmed blood. “Besides, someone would end up putting ice in it, ruining it.”

“No one would touch your drink, dear.” Mrs. Taylor assures him without doubt. “But enjoy your Gothically classy wine glass. I don’t expect Dolly will be home very early.”

“No, she’s going to the coven’s thing.” Max shoots the old housekeeper a smirk. “Did you make her the same thing that Cookie would take?”

“Of course I did.” Mrs. Taylor answers, huffing slightly like she’s offended he would even ask. Her homemade sausage and lentil stew was a favourite of the coven’s and she would never have sent anything else. “So you two will have blood sausage with dinner tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.” Max rolls his eyes happily as he licks his blood red lips. “That will be delicious.”

“Just because a few things will change around here doesn’t mean we aren’t going to take care of you.” Even if that was the kind of women she and Renee were, Mrs. Taylor knows that he wouldn’t stand for it.

“Has anyone heard from the big guy?” Max asks as he looks around the room. “Figured he’d be here today of all days.”

“He was detained on business.” Mrs. Taylor reports, lying very smoothly through her teeth. The one man that everyone in this house reports to had arrived when the rest of the household was otherwise distracted. “I’m sure that when he decides when to reveal himself, we will all be made very aware.”

If Max thought he was dramatic, he had nothing on the man who had sired him. Rolling his eyes, he shrugs. It’s not like the man had come back to magically release him from this house arrest. “I just assumed he would be back here. Since his soulmate loved Mabon.”

“She certainly did.” Wiping her hands on a dishcloth, Mrs. Taylor turns around to face the two men. “And it seems as though not so much will have changed in this house.”

“Talk about weird.” Max snorts. “Wonder why it’s this witch.”

“I’m sure Ms. Brown had her reasons.” Mrs. Taylor’s own penchant for the enigmatic is as well documented as any other member of the family, and Eddie chuckles when the housekeeper simply smiles and moves on to the next chore.

“Alright then,” he huffs in amusement. “Keep your secrets. We’ll find out eventually.”

“Anyway.” Max shakes his head, “I’m going to go get ready.” He tells the group, draining the last of his blood. “See if I can’t go seduce one of the pretty witches who are feeling spunky tonight.” He smirks, winking at Eddie and sailing out of the room whistling the theme song of The Craft movie, Love Spit Love.

******

The warmth from the sun is starting to dissipate by the time you arrive at the sweet little Dutch colonial that Allison shares with her sisters Tracy and Kristin. The family home had been the center of a farm a few hundred years ago, according to what Allison had told you earlier today, but now what they had left was their farmhouse and its small backyard, and they were perfectly happy with that. A half dozen cars are already outside when you park the Corvette, feeling conspicuous but grateful that Mrs. Taylor had sent you with a dish. Alison gave you no hint that it was a potluck.

"You came!" Before you are already out of the car, Allison has opened the door. Greeting you like a dear friend. "Oh - you are our guest," she tuts when she sees you grab the dish out of the passenger seat. "I didn't want you to feel obligated to bring something."

“I couldn’t possibly come empty-handed.” Even though it almost happened, you would have been extremely embarrassed if it had. As it is, you are happy to hand over the dish that Mrs. Taylor so lovingly crafted and packed. “I’m…I’m told it’s an old favourite of the coven,” you murmur, not having told her who you are or where you live when you met earlier today. Why would you? But now it seems essential.

"Oh?" Her curiosity is peaked for all of three seconds until she smells the casserole from the edges of the top. "Oh my god!" She cries. "Is that- that's the sausage and lentils that Cookie Brown would bring?" Her eyes widen and she looks at you with a sense of gratefulness and surprise. "How did you--"

“I—I didn’t know Ms. Brown,” you preface your explanation immediately. “But it seems we were related. And she left me her estate in her will. Mrs. Taylor…she’s amazing. And wouldn’t let me come without bringing this for all of you.”

“Ohhhh bless you both.” She tilts her head in curiosity, wanting to ask if you know about the residents of the mansion, Ms. Brown had confided in the coven about them, but she doesn’t ask you. Figuring she didn’t want to open that can of worms if you didn’t.

“I understand Cookie used to hold events for the coven fairly frequently?” It’s no wonder, being only one person - or three, with Max and Eddie there - and having all that space. “I would be happy to do the same. And I know Mrs. Taylor would be, too.”

She's startled for a moment, amazed that you would offer the space back to the coven if you aren't practicing. "That is very kind." She smiles. "We will have to see about showing you what some of the events at the manor would look like." She giggles. "We had talked for years about having a ball."

“I guess she used to have them all the time. You know…when she was younger?” Following Allison into the farmhouse, the sense of calm and scent of spice in the air reminds you distinctly of the Mabons of your childhood. “My roommates and I…well, they were encouraging me…we were talking yesterday about maybe having a masquerade.”

"That would be a wonderful thing." Allison sets the dish down amongst the others on the table and guides you towards the drink table. "I can imagine it would be a beautiful thing. If you do decide to hold one, please let me know what I could do to help."

“I would love the help, honestly. I have no idea what I’m doing but it sounds so nice.” A large slow cooker of warm, spiced apple cider stands at the ready and you defer to that happily when offered a drink. “But thank you for inviting me tonight. I really…I had no idea there would be witches here when I moved.”

"Our coven isn't quite as publicized as the ones near Salem, but we are well known on the eastern seaboard." She boasts, proud of that fact. "But it's more of a myth than anything else."

“A myth?” People are milling around greeting each other with enthusiastic hugs, so you get the feeling that you might be the only ‘guest’ here tonight. It gives you a slight feeling of needing to cling to Allison, and you eagerly ask for the story if she’s willing to tell it instead of daring to meet more new people just yet.

She smiles softly, her expression turning slightly dreamy. "It's one that you might not believe." She cautions. "But back nearly two hundred years ago, the head of our coven was soulmates with a vampire. Their love changing magic and this area forever."

“But…” Your brow furrows immediately, confusion and incredulity more than anything else — but you also don’t want to sound rude. “Vampires…they don’t exist?”

She tilts her head, shrugging slightly. "Hence why it's a myth." She won't correct you, since you obviously don't know about the residents and staff that are near you every day. "But it's said that the vampire who was her mate was incredibly devoted to her. Not caring that they were historical enemies and proving his love for her was real. His marks matching hers and his heart jumping to life when she was near. Feeding her some of his blood to prolong her life well beyond a mere mortal's existence until she was ready to shuck her mortal coil."

“It sounds terribly romantic.” The spice of the cider in your cup is a welcome sip, making you almost hum in pleasure. “A soulmate to help you live forever sounds…daunting, though. I suppose happiness makes it worthwhile.” Not that you can particularly relate on that front, but you can dream. An eternity with Derek might have been what killed you, not kept you alive.

"It would." Allison agrees, her own cup of cider is curled up to her lips. "I hope that one day I find my soulmate and he's that devoted to me."

“I don’t see how he couldn’t be,” you promise her with a wistful smile. “You’re too sweet to have anything else.”

She hums happily and shrugs. "I don't know, might be horrible to live with." She winks and reaches forward to curl her arm through yours.

Allison leads you out the back door of the kitchen to the small patio just outside where a dozen or so other women have now congregated with their drinks. They have all noticed you at this point but no one has questioned your appearance at all. Allison has a bit of a history of picking up interesting strays and bringing them home.

"So we don't have many male members of the coven." Allison admits. "Few want to admit that they practice, so it's just going to be us ladies tonight."

"The only man I've ever known in a coven was my father." You tell her with a small shrug. "It's a shame that it's still rare."

"Being Wiccan or having a coven is still one of those things that is viewed as feminine in a lot of mindsets." She huffs. "Although Ms. Brown's soulmate always came with her when he was available, even if he wasn't practicing."

"I know it's just because I miss her." A short woman with bright orange, curly hair and wide glasses comes out of the house behind where you and Allison are standing with a confused expression on her face. "But I could have sworn I smelled Cookie's lentil stew coming through the kitchen. Wishful thinking, I guess."

"Actually..." Allison smiles. "Candice....our guest here brought Cookie's lentil stew. She's related to our gal and inherited her house."

"No!" Candice gasps, but her face lights up with excitement. "That's so fantastic! I mean we all miss Cookie so much but I'm so glad to know that her legacy is continuing on."

"She seems like she was a very special woman." There is anxiety in the way you shift your feet, but you smile. "Unfortunately, I didn't know her at all."

“I’m so sorry.” Candice frowns and reaches out to touch your arm. “She was well respected and loved in the coven. If you want us to tell you about her, just ask.”

"I would really like that, actually. My roommates have only told me a little bit so far." Granted it has only been two days, but it's almost like Mrs. Taylor and Renee are afraid to say too much. And if that's true, you have to wonder what they're so afraid of.

“I’ve told her about our coven legend.” Allison tells Candice, knowing the chatty witch would spread the word. “About the witch and the vampire soulmates? She likes the story.”

“I know everybody thinks vampires are folklore,” Candice laughs, waving it off like it’s the silliest thing in the world. “But those are the same people who think magic isn’t real. So I guess ignorance is bliss.”

Allison smiles blandly, eyeing her fellow witch. “Of course.” She hums. “Come on.” She tells you. “Let’s go get you settled.”

The introductions seem endless. Every one is very nice and very glad to hear of the relationship you apparently hold to their old friend. It’s only when Allison’s sisters are giving you a little tour of the house and refreshing your drink that Candice pulls Allison aside. “She doesn’t know, does she?” The older woman asks, chewing on her lip with nerves.

"Not a clue." Allison keeps her eyes on the stairs, making sure that you aren't coming downstairs. "I'm not sure what is going on, but it seems like she has no idea that her 'roommates' are vampires. Or that our legend is real and was her relative."

“Gods.” Candice exhales deeply and shakes her head. “That’s a hell of a secret to keep while she’s in that house.”

"I'm sure there is a reason that it's being kept from her." She murmurs softy. "We just need to make sure that we aren't the ones to tell her."

“We zip our lips and throw away the key,” Candice agrees. “He was always nice enough to us when we met him, but the last thing I want to to make him upset.”

Allison snorts at the understatement of the year. "He did manage to steal from the devil after all." She reminds Candice with a knowing look. "I wouldn't want to upset him either."

“Never.” With another shake of her head, Candice huffs a laugh. “But I like her. She seems sweet.”

"She seems...." Allison flounders for a better word than what springs to mind, but none come to mind. "Broken." She voices, her tone concerned and sad. "Like maybe Newport is a haven for her."

“I would’ve said skittish,” Candice admits, but she smiles softly. “Fate had you stumble into each other’s paths this morning. Now it’s up to us to offer her family. Who knows what’s happened? The best we can do is offer her open arms.” It’s what Cookie would have done, and they all know it. So for her, they will make sure you are safe here.

"We will protect her." Allison agrees. "I will visit Mrs. Taylor tomorrow to see what the plan is for having her in their household."

“Tell her we said hello.” The whole coven loves Cookie’s vampiric housekeeper, but Candice in particular loved all of Mrs. Taylor’s stories about the ‘good old days’ of pre-plague England.

"Of course I will." Allison knows that Mrs. Taylor will insist on sending back some cookies or a cake to the coven of witches who had been regular visitors to the mansion while Cookie had been alive.

“Good.” Candice told her head slightly when she catches sight of you coming downstairs with Tracy. “Lets start the fire up and sit down to eat. This night just got a lot more important.”

The fire is crackling, lighting up the back yard and the logs that have been situated around them in a generous circle. Providing seating that is inviting and natural. All of you drifting out to gather around it after filling your bellies with the food, the lentil stew completely demolished with appreciative groans of happiness.

Prayers and wishes of plenty are shared for the equinox. An opportunity to cleanse before the new year starts is always appreciated, and bay leaves with refreshing wishes written on them are dropped one by one into the fire until everyone sits back again and begins to chat amongst themselves. The night is beautiful, and you hug your sweater around yourself — glad for just a moment that Max had suggested it. The temperature has dropped sharply tonight and you have to wonder if it’s due to being so close to the ocean.

At first, the bat isn’t noticed, sitting on the branch of a tree just outside of the dancing light from the fire. Black, beady eyes taking in the ground and then flapping his wings to take flight, honing in on one particular witch.

Allison had been asking you something animated about living in Nashville when you caught the movement out of the corner of your eye. Black wings blend into the darkness easily, but as the little figure gets closer to the fire you can make it out perfectly. “Gods!” You almost startled but the gasping sound you make it delighted. “You’re real!”

Max squawks as the bat, circling your head twice as the entire coven watches with various expressions of bewilderment at the appearance of the vampire. Everyone knows you don’t know about the feeding habits of your roommates, so why are you familiar with the bat form of one of them? He lands on your shoulder again and ruffles his wings as he folds them up, his face turned towards you expectantly.

“Hey cutie,” you greet the little creature the same way you did last night, deciding to grapple with the fact that you obviously didn’t dream the entire thing later. For now you put you hand up gently and pet the bat’s little head with two fingers. “How’d you find me so far from home, huh?”

Max chirps indignantly and flaps his wings at you. Insulted by the idea that this was far from home.

“Alright, so you’re a very crafty bat, then. I’ll give you that.” Your fingers pet the little creature’s head gently and you smile, instantly more relaxed. “Could’ve sworn bats were supposed to be blind, though. I feel like you’re looking right at me.”

He would roll his eyes at you, but he just nuzzles into your hand and hops up closer to your neck. Feeling the warmth from your body and sensing your pulse. Craving the closeness tonight.

“This little guy flew in my window last night,” you explain to Allison and several other nearby witches who look nothing short of shocked. “I could have sworn I dreamt the whole thing, but look at this. He found me again.”

“That bat?” Allison asks, watching as the larger than normal bat turns his head and she swears he winks at her before nuzzling you.

“Yeah.” The feeling of having the little guy nuzzle into your neck makes you laugh. “Weird, right? I always thought bats stayed away from humans.”

“Some of them are apparently friendly.” Candice snorts, watching as a vampire stake his claim on you. That’s the only thing that it could be. While he had come to plenty of ceremonies, never had he been in any form but his normal self. Where this had to be Max. Cookie had said he was a black bat.

“He let me read to him.” Knowing that it actually happened and wasn’t just a cute little dream basically lights you up inside like a little goth Disney Princess. “Cutest thing in the world.”

The little bat preens, as if he understands what’s being said about him, because he does. Max chirps and stomps his little bat feet on your shoulder.

“You don’t…mind him, right?” Just because you think he’s cute as all hell doesn’t mean the other coven members will, and you raise your eyes to Allison with concern and care. “I wouldn’t bring him in your house. I promise.”

“I think that he will go where he wants.” She tells you diplomatically with a small smile on her face.

“Maybe.” Bats are wild animals, after all. Even as cute as this one is, that doesn’t make it a pet. “I just think he’s sweet.”

The other witches giggle and ‘awww’ over the sight of the bat on your shoulder, all of them aware of his true nature. “Bats are sweet.” Allison agrees with a grin.

“Who knew?” Candice all but giggles. “I always thought bats were a little dickish. Like little winged misogynists.”

Max ruffles his wings, glowering at the witch and huffing, the sound coming out as little squeaks.

“Aww, it’s okay cutie.” The chattering by your ear makes you laugh softly and you pet him again. “You’re just a softie.”

He settles to your touch, cuddling against your hand and deciding that he’s not close enough. The next time you move your hand to pet him, he jumps into your palm.

It earns a wistful sighing noise from a few surprised witches nearby and a giggle from you. “You want cuddles again, don’t you?” Looking back at Allison and Candice, you shrug a little as you cuddle the bat to your chest. “Last night I made him a little nest to sit in my lap while I read.”

Max grins as he burrows into your chest. Unhappy that he’s not skin-to-fur, but at least he’s getting to cuddle into your breasts. Not that he’s trying to be creepy, but you are snuggling him to his favorite part on a woman and you are gorgeous to him.

“That’s super cute.” Candice can barely contain her laughter with the image in front of her, but she sips her cider and smirks. “So how are you getting along with your roommates?” She prompts, keeping her tone light and airy.

“Oh! Um…Okay, I think?” Really, everything about having this little bat with you is oddly comforting, but you do get a faint whiff of something weird like…sunscreen? Maybe? Which is weird but not off putting. You had just never heard that bats smell like sunscreen. “Eddie is really nice. And I don’t…I don’t know Max very well yet.”

Max the bat, coos at you in soft protest. He’s the one that’s spent the most time with out of all of them. Even putting you to bed last night after you had fallen asleep reading to him.

If you had known it was him — had any idea whatsoever — you might have laughed. A stifled giggle if nothing else. But since you have no idea, you just pet the little creature and shrug as Candice asks, “Max hasn’t been nice?”

“I think I’m not what he expected,” you admit with a small frown, thinking of his behavior at dinner the night before. “But he was very nice today. Mrs. Taylor made a beautiful tea tray with some of the cheese I got from Allison today and Max and I shared it.”

“Max shared tea with you?” Candice raises her brow. “It’s rare that Max really socializes. So if he’s spending any time with you, I bet you he’s finding you interesting.”

“Oh…I don’t know about that.” Despite sitting here at a coven gathering with a snuggly bat in your palm and the keys to a mysteriously inherited mansion in your purse, you shrug. “I’m not particularly interesting.”

Max flaps his wings, fluttering and against your chest again. Snuggling his head into your skin against your heartbeat.

“Maybe he thinks you are?” Candice offers, trying very hard not to giggle and give the apparently secret identity of your little friend away.

He doesn’t know why the witches are giggling, no one knows it’s him. Perfectly disguised for the evening to watch over you, since he’s felt the need to see what you are up to.

“Maybe.” Though you shrug, you can’t think why someone as sophisticated and obviously worldly as Max would care. “I suppose new things are interesting for a time.”

Max frowns, unsure why someone as pretty as you would have such a negative outlook. You should be flaunting your health and beauty.

“Sometimes new things stay interesting for a long time,” Allison smiles kindly and pats your knee. “You never know which new things can become old habit.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #a mysterious inheritance #wiccan reader #Bat Max

190 notes · View notes