#would pay to listen to him talk about food and cooking though

[blackypanther9]

Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

A/N: I decided to do this Oneshot/Headcanon for both, alive!Alastor x daughter!Reader and Demon!Alastor x Daughter!Reader. Enjoy ! (Picture belongs to rightful owner !)

TAGLIST!: @meg-giry1  @wen01203

WARNING!: mentions of the S word, name calling, insults, mentions of cheating, Vox and the other Vees get bullied in public AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!

Human!Dad!Alastor x Human!Daughter!Reader:

When you start to talk about new Gossip:

Alastor was cooking Dinner as suddenly you bashed open the door, scaring the living daylights out of your Father. He quickly looked at you and made a face to scold you.

“Mon ange (My Angel), are you planning to give your dear ol’ Father a heart attack ?”

You ignored his scolding and gave him a big grin with a twinkle in your eyes. Alastor got intrigued.

“You will NEVER believe what I’ve heard, Papa ! That is some interesting tea indeed !”, you announced happily.

Your Father cocked his head to the side in curiosity, his smile not leaving, but it shrunk in curiosity and confusion.

“Oh ? What happened, Cher ?”

You entered the kitchen fully, pulled out a chair, sat down and looked at him.

“You do know Felicia Monrue, right ? You reported about her last week in your Broadcast, because she got caught drunk, even though there was no giggle water (Alcohol) allowed and she had to pay a hefty debt as punishment.”

“Ah...yes, I do remember her indeed. Hoho ! Such a gal getting caught.”, Alastor laughed out in humor, “Couldn’t even hold her own liquor, hahaha !”

You nodded eagerly.

“Well guess what !”

“What is it, mon petit (Little one) ?”

You looked around the house, as if anyone was listening in, then bounced and gave him a big mischievous smirk.

“Rumors have it, that she was spotted a few times with different men on her arm. She brought them home and someone heard lewd noises, while one of her neighbors swore they saw her and the different men in her bedroom, doing the forbidden act ! Can you believe it ?!”

Alastor took a sip of water, which he promptly spat out in shock, as you said that. He stared at you, then looked at his glass of water, then at the food he was cooking, then back to you and back at his drink.

“Am I sure that I am drinking water right now ?”, he muttered in shock.

“You are, Papa ! Stop being so silly !”, you replied laughing.

He looked at you again.

“You aren’t talking nonsense, right, Dear ? That poor Lady surely could never do such a scandalous thing.”

You shook your head.

“I really heard it, from more than one person too ! It already goes around like wildfire, Papa ! One even said that they have a picture of it ! If this gets out into the newspaper, her clothes store will shut down forever !”

Your Father shook his head and looked at his food, sighing in disappointment.

“Such a fine Dame and no class... Didn’t her parents teach her any manners ? How scandalous !”

You shrugged your shoulders and gave him a grin.

“Maybe it is just a faux, Papa, but it would be entertaining if it was true ! Don’t you agree ?”

“It sure would be, Cher. Anything else you heard rumors about, hmm ?”, your Father asked you amused.

“Oh ! There are new rumors about the Bayou Killer too.”

“Oh, do let me know ! I’d LOVE to hear their theories !”, your Father said enthusiastically.

“Some speculate now that it is a butcher and others that it is a doctor ! How ridiculous is that ?!”, you said laughing.

For a second the kitchen was silent and then Alastor broke out into laughter and he shook his head.

“A-a WHAT now ?! Hahahaha !”

Alastor laughed so hard that he wiped a tear away from his right eye. You looked at your Father in amusement.

“Stupid, isn’t it ? They really think you are a Doctor or even a Butcher ! I mean...you kind of are a Butcher, but at the same time, you are not !”

Alastor snorted in amusement and continued to cook Dinner, while you told him all the Gossip you heard and he discussed it all with you, happy to listen to anything you heard.

When Alastor starts to talk about new Gossip:

You were just returning from a quick shopping spree with some groceries as you saw your Father with a huge mischievous grin on his face. He took a few bags from you and you both started to fill the kitchen cabinets and fridge with your catches that you got from the stores.

You knew that glint in your Father’s eyes. He heard something scandalous and amusing. You couldn’t wait.

As soon as you both finished, you entered the Living room and sat down on the couch, your Father sat down in the armchair.

“Alright, Dad, spill the tea. What rumors have you heard, hmm ?”, you pressed.

Alastor looked at you with one of his hugest smiles and started to chuckle.

“Do you remember Gwen Kosiak from my workplace, who quit his job not long ago ?”, your Father asked you.

“Yes. Why ?”

“Well my dear child, he was married and they seemed happy. Suddenly they divorced out of nowhere. Rumors have it that he cheated on his wife with the housemaid !”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“No way !”, you gasped out.

“Yes indeedy !”

You started to let out a chuckle.

“I would have never expected that from Gwen.”

“Me neither, Cher ! Me neither !”

You both chuckled and as it calmed down, your Father smirked.

“There has also been the rumor going around that the dress shop, you love to visit so frequently, is going bankrupt, because the owner of the store refuses to pay the rent !”

You stared at your Father gob smacked.

“Seriously ?”

All your Father did was nod.

“Indeedy !”

You leaned back in shock, then your face saddened.

“A real shame, guess I should look for a new favorite dress store then.”, you muttered.

“You definitely should, Cher !”, Alastor encouraged.

You could see that he wasn’t finished yet, so you waited for him to start the next section of discussion to gossip about.

“Also, Mrs. Tiana gave birth to her and her husband’s offspring ! The spawn looks nothing like them ! Hahaha !”

“You don’t think that she was going behind her husband’s back, do you ?”

“I think she was, Cher !”

“My, how scandalous ! Was it truly that bad ?”

“The child didn’t have their skin color, nor their hair color ! The child’s skin color was almost like mine and the hair was ginger ! Both of them were white and one had blond hair while the other had black hair. They both said that none in their Family tree had a different skin color, nor ginger hair ! So it just can’t be his offspring.”

You covered your mouth in shock.

“I never would have thought of Mrs. Tiana as a harlot.”, you muttered.

“None of us did, mon Cher ! Yet, here we are !”

The two of you continued to gossip and talk about rumors for a while. Alastor was always happy to listen, theorize with you and to talk about everything. He was almost like a woman, chattering about all the scoundrels that were talked about and you LOVED your Dad for that. He was practically both to you. A Mother and a Father. You never lacked anything.

In Hell:

When you start gossip:

Your Father was just about to wrap up his Broadcast in Hell, as you stormed inside. He looked at you startled, his Deer ears standing on high alert. As soon as he saw you, he rolled his eyes gently, scolding himself in his thoughts, that he got scared of you.

“Father, guess what !”, you announced happily.

Oh, he knew by that voice that you heard some gossip. He turned to you, leaving his broadcast on for now.

“What is it, Cher ?”, he asked.

“I heard some interesting tea about the Vees ! Wanna hear it ?!”

He perked up and looked at you highly interested. He snapped another chair into existence next to him and gestured for you to sit down. You did so eagerly.

“Now, what was that, Cher ?”, he asked, interested.

You were bouncing up and down on your chair.

“So, apparently Valentino and Vox are in a on and off relationship, just to screw each other, when Valentino’s harlots are too busy ! How desperate is that, Papa ?! Hahaha !”

Alastor, who sipped his black coffee, spat it back out and coughed into his sleeve from shock. Then he chuckled.

“That sounds pathetically desperate ! Hahaha ! I never thought that Vox would sink even lower than he already did !”, your Father laughed out.

“I didn’t know that Valentino was so depraved and pathetically desperate that he even fucks his own harlots ! Hahaha ! That just shows how unwanted he is !”, you laughed out.

“True, true, my Dear !”

“Oh, oh ! And have you heard that the Demon, Velvet dated, broke up with her ?!”

“Applesauce, mon petit !”, he yelled in fake shock.

“It’s true, Papa ! They apparently were dining in a restaurant and suddenly the man said that he is dumping her ass, then left the restaurant without paying too ! She left it, looking like a mess ! I bet the other two Vees had to coddle her to make it better ! HA ! How fucking pathetic for an Overlord !”

Alastor laughed loudly at that and petted your head, affectionately.

“Also, Vox tried to copy your Radio Station to make Radio Broadcasts himself, to grow bigger ! Can you believe how desperate that flat faced idiot is ?! Hahaha !”

“Is that so, Cher ?”, Alastor said partly amused, partly triggered.

“He tried to hide it from you too ! Sadly someone from his team snitched ! Hahahaha !”, you confirmed with laughter.

“Hmmm. Interesting indeed, Cher !”

“Also, some guests in Valentino’s porn clubs said that the hygiene in the bathrooms, of all the clubs, are so nasty that no one even wants to take a dump there ! Hahaha ! That insect is destroying his own image !”, you cackled out.

Alastor laughed at that.

“Well, what did you expect from a moth, Cher ? That they are clean ?”

“You would think his business and his employees means something to him, but it seems it wants to go broke soon enough !”

Alastor just chuckled and already planned how to teach Vox a lesson, for trying to take over Radio, HIS specialty.

The Broadcast went 30 minutes longer, discussing and gossiping about the Vees mostly.

After they finished their Broadcast, they saw that all of Pentagram City had a blackout. Welp, they fried Vox then with the other two Vees.

When Alastor starts gossip:

You both visited Rosie, just to catch up a bit and that was where everything went down. From a small pleasant exchange of how you all three have been, it turned into gossiping.

“My Dear, you have to be pulling our legs.”, Alastor accused Rosie in disbelief.

“I am not, Al ! I promise ya ! He really tried to eat her !”, Rosie insisted.

You just laughed and ate another finger that Rosie offered. You rarely did eat her treats that she offered, but today you were fine with it. Rosie knew about your picky diet swings, so she never felt insulted.

“What about you, Dear ? Any interesting gossip ?”, Rosie asked you.

“Oh quite some interesting ones, indeed !”, you replied.

“Oh do spill the tea, Dearie !”, Rosie said in excitement.

“Well, I heard that Zestial had three Sons and they are all down here. They say that Zestial hid them from everyone, because they are not very strong and he is ashamed of them.”

“Oh my...”, Rosie said in shock and intrigue.

Alastor was in slight shock and very interested in it.

“I will ask Zest about it tomorrow. After all we are supposed to meet up at Carmilla’s tomorrow. He is always there.”, you told her.

“Oh please do ask him ! I would love to know if these rumors are true !”

Then she turned to Alastor.

“And you, my friend ? What did you catch ?”

Alastor chuckled.

“A lot of people are starting to question Queen Lilith’s absence. Many say that she made a Deal with the Holy Gates. Others say that she got exterminated.”

“Hah ! As if anyone could kill our Queen ! She would NEVER agree to make a Deal with the Angels either ! How silly !”

Alastor chuckled and nodded, agreeing with Rosie, while you just shook your head in amusement.

“Also, it was rumored that Overlord Missi Zilla was seen with a lowlife Sinner, getting a bit steamy in an alley way.”

“No way !”, Rosie and you yelled.

“Yes, yes, indeedy !”, Alastor insisted.

Rosie leaned back.

“Oh my stars...”, she muttered.

“Who do you think it was ?”, you asked the two other Overlords.

“All I have heard was that the Demon Sinner was a bull. There was nothing else.”, Alastor chimed in.

“As if Missi would stoop that low.”, you scoffed.

“You never know, my Dear !”

And the gossip with Rosie and Alastor would continue for a long while, while you chimed in and shared your own gossip. You saw Rosie like a Mother figure and your Father didn’t mind it a bit. He was glad you liked Rosie.

You three Overlords would gossip for hours.

Alastor is a HUGE fan of gossip. You never know what interesting information you will hear, after all.

He would gossip with you, his beloved Daughter, like women would gossip amongst each other.

He would try and see if you were pulling his leg or not, but most of the times you were serious.

As soon as he got interesting gossip, he would immediately sit down with you and share, loving to bond with you over simple gossip.

He would always share a few laughs with you here and there.

He loves it when you have gossip/information about his enemies/victims. Somehow you just KNEW where and how to get the interesting tea ! He couldn’t be prouder !

He would never shut you down if you wanted to gossip with him. He would always listen and throw in his input/opinion on the matters discussed.

He is the perfect person to gossip with and so are you and Rosie.

I hope I hit the mark with this ! ^^'

(Words: 2 605)

Masterlist HERE !

#READ THE WARNINGS ABOVE !!! #fanfiction #fem!reader #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader #Father!Alastor #Human!Alastor #Alive!Alastor #Demon!Alastor #Human!Reader #Alive!Reader #Demon!Reader #Child!Reader #Gossip between Father and Daughter – Father!Alastor x Daughter!Reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐑𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 [Part 1: Goldrush]

There's always a certain sense of childish sadness in a man consumed by rage and anger- because in a man like him, those feelings are simply born from the pain of the past, and the crushing fear of what the future might yet make him face.

Tags/Warnings: Mafia!Tiger!Jungkook, Deer!Reader, mentioned abuse, mentions of underground fights, graphic descriptions of violence, a gun oh no, Jungkook in a suit, it's pretty dark read at your own risk, there is like a hint of fluff?, just let me cook I promise it'll be worth it, do not read this if you're easily triggered/upset by dark and violent themes please thank you

Length: 6.5k Words (oh boy look at the size of that thing)

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Haha remember when I said it'll be 3k words per chapter? well I lied oops

-> Masterlist

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Jungkook met you after his first fight for the Golden House.

Humming a tune you'd almost danced through the kitchen- though you were mostly focused on helping the other maids and cooks prepare the food for the higher up's currently invited for dinner at the estate. He remembers he'd scared you- probably due to his rather beat up face, none of it having been treated most of the time, just so he could scar up and look tough on the outside.

It had worked- somewhat. Though his hybrid genes had made it rather difficult to hurt him enough to permanently scar- all of them eventually fading, needing to be remade, night after night.

The look of fear in your eyes had been something he got used to- or maybe he simply didn't notice it after a while, maybe it became normal to see you in a constant state of fight or flight. He never saw you rest, only saw you work- but when you were away from the Boss and only amongst yourself or him, you had a certain sense of lightness to yourself. Like a feather, as cliché as it sounds.

If it wasn't for your hybrid features, Jungkook would've sworn you were more of a bird than a deer- put in a cage, fear used against yourself to lock you in and to the Golden House forever. Just like he himself was shackled up, bought and owned by the highest man just so he could have some amusement watching the tiger hybrid fight in the ring.

He was a toy to him. Just like you. Just like any other hybrid at the Golden House.

Sometimes, when no one was paying much attention, you'd visit Jungkook in his room. You'd clean his wounds, and most of all- you'd talk to him like an equal. You'd tell him of dreams you had at night, of thoughts you'd come up with during your chores, or with fantasies you had about the world outside the walls of the estate. And he'd listen to all of it, quietly, your voice soothing his wounds more than any medication ever could.

Maybe your fear towards him didn't just become normal to him, so he didn't notice it. Maybe it disappeared, slowly, and that's why it left your gaze. You didn't fear him. Didn't see him as an enemy. And maybe that's what really changed.

It was winter when he found out about the consequences to your actions.

He'd spotted you outside in the snow, white flakes falling steadily onto your head and clothes, feet naked and red from the cold. It was punishment- for caring for him, doing something you weren't told to. You'd hidden it, kept it a secret so he probably wouldn't feel bad- but the true nature of it was more selfish than that. "I don't want you to stop talking to me." You'd said when he'd confronted you about it. "I don't want you to ignore me like everyone else does." You'd cried. He hadn't even spoken much to you at all, and yet the few words he'd gifted to you were more than you had ever received before.

And so he had to compromise, and instead tried harder not to get injured in the ring, so no one would notice when you'd help him heal.

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He knows that you saw the signs when his mind had started to slip. When his anger grew, and his sanity took a backseat inside his head.

Especially when the Head of the estate had decided it would be a delight to make you watch Jungkook fighting in the ring every time he had to as a way of trying to make you stop your foolish actions of helping the fighting hybrid- to show you how cruel and brutal the otherwise quiet and reserved tiger could really be, as he'd dislocate limbs and break bones night after night with a certain sense of bloodthirst in his gaze, eyes no longer kind but cold. How he'd bite and scratch with pure intent to hurt and end the fight in his favor, no matter the outcome for his opponent.

Jungkook knows that your view on him changed back then, even if you did not tell him that. He could feel it, in the way your hands would begin to tremble before touching him, or how you'd suddenly no longer reach out to him.

Gone was your attachment to him, murdered was any emotional connection you'd been creating.

At the end of the day, you had been nothing but a puppet to the head of the Golden House, nothing but a doll fed with orders because no matter what, you'd do it if it meant you'd survive another day. You would've probably even killed him if it had been asked of you- even though he wouldn't have let you.

You wouldn't have stood a chance against him.

The kiss you'd shared had been more than questionable, and he does feel bad about the circumstances back then.

He knew that it could've gotten you killed if anybody had ever caught you both, and he also knows that if it wasn't for his own initiative, you would've never made that step either. But he loved you, he loved you so much it hurt, and he hated being hurt because it was a constant for him he could never escape.

Everything he did, every situation he found himself in, every waking moment had been nothing but pain in one way or another. Nothing could soothe that ache in his body, could somehow make that burn in his bones feel a little lighter.

Nothing but your touch.

You cared. Even though he knew that you feared him, you still cared. And he hated it.

Why didn't you push him away, make him angry at you so he could have a solid reason to just get rid of you? The only reason he continued to endure wasn't so he could survive- he never gave a fuck about survival, none at all. But the heartbreak in your eyes, the fact that you'd be alone, the memory of you crying so bitterly about being ignored and put aside was continuously making him pull himself back up whenever knocked down, to win the fight and come back to the Golden House-

where you'd wait for him, soft hands on his skin relieving his rage just for a moment. Giving him a second to breathe. Where you'd kiss his wounds, and lift all the weight off of him for just a second.

And then you betrayed him.

"Thats a train ticket! I got it from Chun, she said it'll take you to busan." You'd told him, panic in your eyes as you'd pushed the slightly torn canvas bag filled with clothes and other necessities further into his arms. "After your fight tonight, there will be a dog hybrid named Min Yoongi in the locker room. He'll take you to the station.!" You said.

"And you?" He asks, dreading the answer he'd inevitably get.

"I'll be your insurance." You'd smiled.

"He'll take all his anger out on you-" He'd worried, and you'd nodded, and never looked so brave.

"I know." You'd told him. "But you'll live- and that's enough for me."

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"Flake has been replaced with Dohyun. The people aren't very happy with it, but he'll make them accept the change soon enough." Namjoon offers, setting some papers down in front of Jungkook, who looks like he might be asleep- face resting on his hand, arm perched up with his elbow on the armrest of his chair.

"Hm, they're never happy when a hybrid's on top." He mumbles lowly, eyes not opening. "I assume Flake didn't go… voluntarily." He asks.

"No." Namjoon responds. "Was executed on his balcony."

"Classy. I like it." Jungkook chuckles, eyes slowly opening as he takes in a deep breath. "Hm, I'm hungry-" He starts, looking at his watch on his wrist. "-let's hope Hideo doesn't piss me off tonight, or I might just have to swap him too." He growls, slowly getting up to prepare for the dinner he has to attend with the human gangleader.

Jungkook had the chance to get out. He's been given the chance after all, by the only person he's ever really considered he 'loved'- and yet his thirst for blood wouldn't let him go. The need for revenge was way too big inside him to be just satisfied with living his own life away from his past- but he couldn't.

They took everything he ever had away from him. They took you away from him. And he'd never forgive that.

So he began to convince Yoongi to join him in his plans, took the first few pillars out to make the fundamentals of the underground gang life crumble. He shook up the entire game, and began to 'swap out' human leaders with hybrids from his own rows- a gang he'd build up himself, consisting of almost exclusively hybrids of all kinds. He knows he's not doing any good with the way he's doing things- but he doesn't care.

If he can't change the game, he'll become the best player instead.

And currently, he's definitely on the road to take the seat as the king.

"Jungkook!" The rather eccentric man stands up, opens his arms for the hybrid who does not attempt to return the gesture or accept the invitation at all. "My favorite big cat, come take a seat!" He laughs it off, sits down with Jungkook, who keeps his face stoic and expressionless. "Can we have some chairs here please? I'd hate for your friends to stay standing while we eat-" He tries, but Jungkook shakes his head.

"No need. I'd rather have them pay at attention." Jungkook responds, and Hideo laughs in front of him.

"Always so on edge. Never change my boy!" He jokes, before the food is being placed on the table. "So. I heard you let Flake tumble down his balcony like a dramatic movie-climax." He chuckles, cutting into his steak. Jungkook nods, begins to eat as well, but keeps his eyes on the man in front of him. "Quite the spectacle. Made the higher up's a little nervous." He tells him.

"Good." Jungkook simply answers, and Hideo laughs.

Hideo is one of the only few human leaders left in his original spot- mainly because the man is rather interested in surviving, and keeping his head in one piece. He's smart, albeit a little bit unhinged- sometimes even causing Jungkook himself to feel uneasy around the man. He's a wildcard, and does what he wants whenever he wants, only follows rules if they're in his favor.

So Jungkook is wary of him, and doesn't trust that man as far as the bridge of his own nose.

"They say his minions aren't too happy with your new choice." The man mumbles, shrugging his shoulders however, clearly unbothered. "But they just don't like the change. What you should worry about however, is the money you're loosing." He says, making Jungkook's eyes sharpen.

"What money are you talking about?" He asks, finishing up his plate.

"The money you're not aware of." Hideo chuckles. "Flake had two daughters, and rumor has it they both emptied their bank accounts a few days before you struck and pushed Rapunzel down her tower." The man informs him, licking his knife while looking at Jungkook, who tries hard to make nothing visible on his face. He knows exactly what the man is trying to tell him.

Somehow, those daughters knew Jungkook would attack. Which in turns, means someone told them.

Which hints at a snitch.

"Sakata is currently finding them as we speak, so no worries about that." Hideo suggests, finishing his meal as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "The only thing you should do, would be to.. sniff out who needs to go, so to speak." He says, grinning at Yoongi, who pins his ears back in irritation at the joke. Jungkook leans back, tilts his head once, before he stands up.

"I want to know the whereabouts of those two daughters the moment you have them." Jungkook says dryly. "Do not kill them. I want to.. talk to them personally." He orders, and Hideo laughs, nodding with his hands clapping once.

"Of course! Oh and-" The human man grins, and it tells Jungkook that the man has something to say that will definitely cause problems. "-I heard my dear Chisoo left you a present at your estate?" He says, catching Jungkook off guard for a second, as the tiger hybrid looks to his side towards Namjoon, who shares an equally confused gaze. "Oh, you've not seen it yet? Hm, it does explain his good mood, doesn't it?" Hideo asks one of his guards who doesn't react. "Ah, I really liked that guy. Don't be too harsh on the boy, yeah? He doesn't know how to.. read a room, you know? His jokes can be terrible." He laughs.

Jungkook slowly leaves, but as soon as he sits inside the back of his car, he's growling out orders. "Call Chisoo right now." He demands Namjoon, who already dials the number. "If he doesn't answer we'll pay him a visit right now." He says, waiting for the speaker system of his car to reveal the voice of the man.

"Jungkook! What's up my guy?" The young voice chimes out.

"Cut the shit. What did you do?" Jungkook demands, and Chisoo just laughs on the other end.

"Oh you've not seen it yet? I thought you'd like it!" He says, clearly eating. "Saw the poor thing and remembered something I heard from a former guard of the Golden House." He chuckles, and Jungkook's blood runs cold. "Look man, I have some urgent business right now. If you don't want it, you can just get rid of it- I won't judge." He laughs, before he hangs up the phone.

"Tell Seokjin to check the premises before we drive back." Yoongi informs him from the driver's seat, instructing Namjoon who calls the man right away.

"Seokjin." Jungkook says as the phone is picked up. "What the fuck did Chisoo bring?" He demands to know, and grows increasingly uneasy when the answer isn't what he hoped he'd get.

"I.. you should just not worry about it. It was probably meant to just anger you." He tells the tiger hybrid, not specifying things. "I've already dealt with.. it, just-"

"That's not your decision to make." Jungkook growls. "I'm on my way back right now, and I want whatever it is in my office before I'm back at the estate. Am I making myself clear?" He demands.

"..yes." Seokjin simply complies, though with great hesitation.

Because he knows, the moment Jungkook knows what it is, there will be nothing capable of calming Jungkook down.

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One, two, three.

You're counting each tick of the clock standing on the table in the office, waiting for something to happen. That's all you've been instructed to do- the man earlier having escorted you here, and just told you to 'wait', and nothing else. So you do just that, naked feet on the soft carpet, intricate details on the fabric almost hypnotizing you. It's already a lot warmer in here than in your room at the Golden House- and the man who brought you here had given you his jacket too, probably because he thought you were shaking from the cold.

Which you did- but you also tend to shiver from fear, mostly due to your hybrid instincts.

Just.. in here, you don't really feel scared. It smells familiar in here, like something you forgot existed- almost like a childhood memory, far away but reawakened right in this moment. It soothes your worries and slows down your thoughts tremendously.

ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six.

You can hear faint noises now, ears turning towards the door behind you, though your body otherwise doesn't move. you don't dare to, since the handcuffs around your wrists might make a noise, and no one told you if you were allowed to move anyways. So you just stay still, even when you can hear someone argue in front of the door, angrily, upset. The voice is familiar, again- but you don't recall a face to it whatsoever.

One hundred.

The door opens, people walk in. Your face stays lowered, you don't even dare to swallow the saliva in your mouth. "Why the fuck did he send me a hybrid?!" Someone growls, and it makes your throat clog up, angry tone causing your muscles to tremble once more. "Fuck. And why is she not-" He starts, before he stops right next to you, frozen in place almost like you are- though due to different reasons.

"Jungkook-" Someone sighs, when Jungkook next to you talks again, but in a truly bone-chilling tone.

It's so low, and steady, that it makes everyone wordlessly follow the command.

"Out." He says. "Everyone, out, right fucking now." He growls, and both Namjoon and Yoongi leave, though the dog hybrid hesitates a little- shocked as well by the sight of you, most likely.

Once the door closes, it quiets down. All you can really hear is the way the man called Jungkook walks around, paces for a good while, clearly in distress. You're not sure why you're causing him to be like this- maybe he doesn't know if he wants to kill you or not. Or he's fighting primal urges to hunt you down as a predator hybrid. It could be a lot of things.

You lost track of the ticking. You can't hear it properly with Jungkook moving around like that.

"Don't- stop doing that.!" He suddenly says, and you notice yourself panicking. What are you doing right now? You're not moving, you're not looking at him, and neither have you said anything- though that's out of the question anyways. What are you doing that you need to stop? You're barely even breathing- maybe that's it? It's an odd request, and you doubt you can properly follow it for long, but if he wants you to do that-

"Stop being scared!" He suddenly roars at you, hands on your shoulders making you whimper out of pure instinct, as you watch his chest rise and fall rapidly. "Don't-.. I'm not.." He stammers, before he takes a deep breath, seems to control himself as his hands leave your shoulders, instead push themselves into the pockets of his slacks. "Look at me." He demands, and you do just that.

His hair is fairly long, growing over his ears, curly and a deep black. There's two round tiger ears between his wild hair, one of them a little torn, but the scar seems long healed. His eyes are piercing, watching you intently as if he's searching for something with desperation, jawline sharp but his face has a certain roundness to it.

It doesn't distract you from the danger he radiates, tail swaying impatiently behind him. He's a tiger, in every way- large shoulders and powerful muscles unable to be hidden even underneath the suit he wears.

But there's a certain shift in his posture and most of all his gaze as he seems to realize something about you.

"Who am I." He asks, or more so orders you to answer. You begin to panic once more. How are you supposed to answer that? "Who. Am. I." He repeats slower, and you open your mouth to say something-

though no coherent word leaves your lips, only barely a noise that even sounds like it hurts, and it makes your eyes sting.

Jungkook seems to grow angry again. Is he upset that you can't answer? Will he kill you now, because you're unable to give him a proper response?

"Do-" He looks absolutely devastated, and for some reason, it makes you sad. "Do you know who I am?" he quietly asks, bracing himself for the answer he might receive.

Though nothing could prepare him for the pain he feels in his entire body when you quietly shake your head, confirming his worst fears.

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You've not only forgotten him- but everything else too, it seems like, according to Namjoon, who'd been trying to sort you out since Jungkook left you in his office, unable to really have you close like that any longer. His friend had tried it all, and had also let someone with medical knowledge have a look at you- which also gave an explanation about why you just won't talk.

You can't. It's not clear what exactly must've happened, but there's a definite injury there that won't let you make any sound without pain.

It's now pretty obvious to him that you must've gotten caught giving him a way out- and you probably paid the consequences for it too. Whatever happened caused you to forget most of your past, and no one can be sure if it's permanent, or just temporary. What is clear however is that you're completely hollow. There's no trace of a personality in anything you do, no personal preferences towards anything, no interest, not even very noticeable emotions.

It's not surprising to him- and maybe that's what pains him the most.

"So if you don't tell her what to do, she will just do nothing at all?" Jungkook asks as he looks through some documents to distract himself. The more he thinks about you, the darker the possible punishments that you most likely received become in his head- mind forcing scene after scene of you into his brain.

"Won't even sleep if no one tells her to. She was awake the whole night because no one told her when to sleep I guess." Namjoon says, arms crossed. "It's hard to tell what she's thinking considering she doesn't talk." Namjoon sighs defeated, while Jungkook stares at the papers for a moment.

You used to talk a lot, back when he was still used for underground fighting, and you were nothing but a maid for the gangleader. He remembers you humming random songs while dressing his wounds- something you told him was to mostly distract yourself from not crying in front of him.

"I'll fight better next time." He'd told you while you carefully placed the large plaster onto one of the scratches that's still bleeding. "So you won't have to cry."

"I want every bit of info as to where she came from before Chisoo got his hands on her." He tells Yoongi who's been sitting in the corner.

"I believe Chisoo bought her straight from the Golden House. Overheard him talk to one of the guests." Yoongi responds, and Jungkook nods.

"Good." He smirks, standing up, and bracing his hands on the table with a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "I've got some unfinished business with them anyways." He says. The Golden House was no longer a place of fear for him- because just like you, Jungkook isn't who he used to be.

"You're going to start a war over a hybrid friend you made years ago?" Namjoon worries. "Jungkook.." he sighs, but the Tiger hybrid doesn't back down.

Because you're not just a friend.

You were his Savior, the only soft thing he's ever had in his life.

"No. I'm not just starting a war-" Jungkook growls like the predator he is. "I'm getting my revenge."

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Yoongi watches over you like a guard dog, just like Jungkook had told him to.

You'd overheard the tall tiger hybrid give those instructions to Yoongi just before he left in his car, and now you're left standing in the hallway where someone last told you to wait. "Come. You need to eat." The dog hybrid mumbles, walking a step before he checks if you follow. You do.

Of course you do.

You'd jump out the fucking window if someone told you to do so.

Before you were taken in by the Golden House, you'd actually roamed the streets with the dog hybrid together. You'd slept in a storage unit his past owner had rented before he died, a small place of shelter you eventually shared with Yoongi before you met Yuan Shun, the past head of the Golden House. You'd been way too naive back then. Told Yoongi you'd finally found a home to go to, finally found work to pay him back all his kindness.

You didn't know what you'd get yourself into. Not before Shun had forced you to get the small tattoo on your wrist that would forever bind you to him no matter if he died or lived. Every member of the Golden House had to get it one way or another- there was no way around it.

It was burned into everyone's wrist, whether they wanted it or not.

And once you're in, there is no out.

"Jungkook won't harm you." Yoongi says as he pulls out a bowl of something prepared, before he puts it into the microwave to heat it up. "He's just.. he can be a bit.." the dog hybrid sighs, shaking his head a little, unsure how to phrase it properly. Jungkook has his own problems, and it's pretty obvious to everyone around him that he's not the sanest of people any longer. No one can blame him for cracking a few braincells after what's happened to him, that's true- but that doesn't mean that he's a monster.

He's just scarred by his past, and haunted by his potential future.

You want to ask Yoongi what your connection to the tiger hybrid is. You really do- but you also feel like it's none of your business. If anything, you're simply waiting for orders, for a job you'll be working as from now on, a task you'll be given in this new place. The dynamic of things here is confusing to you, how everyone seems to walk freely, no one ever standing in one place waiting to be needed. You even saw someone laughing in one of the hallways.

It's eerie. You don't like it here.

"Eat." Yoongi says, before he holds your wrist, one of his ears twitching in irritation when he notices it's the one with the fine lined burn mark of the Golden House. "- when it's cooled down a little, of course." He sighs, and you nod after a moment, staring at the bowl of pasta.

Waiting. Counting the ticking from the clock in the kitchen.

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"I don't give a flying fuck-" Jungkook growls, knee connecting with the man's jaw once more before he pushes the chair back, gripping his face to force him to look at him. "-about your so-called loyalty." He finishes his sentence. "The only reason I'm not breaking your jaw yet is because I need you to be able to talk." He threatens, before he steps back, and wipes his hand on a tissue.

"I'm not talking. Daeho will-" He starts, when Jungkook slowly and carefully loads a black gun in his hand, pulling the magazine back to ready it in his hands.

"Daeho will what?" Jungkook almost sings. "Kill you?" He asks with feigned innocence in his tone, while he walks forward, and points the nuzzle of the gun straight at the man's kneecap. "How nice. But you see, I'm not Daeho." The tiger tells him, tilting his head a little.

"And I'm not nice."

A shot rings through the small room, followed by agonized screaming, and the gun reloading in Jungkook's hands. "Now, I'll try again. Why did Daeho sell her to Chisoo?" He asks, and the man takes a few deep breaths.

"He wanted to fuck with you." He grits out from between his teeth. "He knew it would piss you off. He technically wanted to send you a tape- you know what kind." He says, and Jungkook's blood boils up again. Of course he knows what kind of actions that sick man would have forced you to do, what exactly he'd make Jungkook watch. "But he thought-.." The man needs to catch himself a little. "He thought it'd make more sense to give her to you instead. Alive."

"Why?" Jungkook asks.

"Because you'd lose your fucking- whatever the fuck you're doing!" He groans. "You'd turn soft. Maybe even break at the sight of her all fucked up like she is now." He explains. "That's why he messed her up before you got her." he says, clearly sweating now from his body trying to keep up with the rapid bloodloss.

Jungkook is silent, before he unloads the gun, clicks the safety in place, and puts it back into it's holster on his belt, turning to leave the room. "Wait- wait, what about me-!"

"You can bleed out right here like the pig you are."

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Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Mostly, because whatever was, isn't any better than what is now. The blood staining Jungkook's hands is still the same consistency as back in the fighting ring, it still washes down the drain the same way as it did before. There's nothing new to the way his knuckles hurt from the force of the punches he'd delivered to the man, and yet, there's a new sting in his chest that just won't leave.

Before you came here, he had at least a way of pacifying his worries about you. Before, he'd been able to just convince himself that you probably got yourself killed for him- that you'd been set free after all, finally escaping your cage once and for all.

The fact that you did not, and instead just went from one cage to the next, makes him nauseous. He doesn't even want to know what you had to endure throughout the years you'd been apart. Now you're just a shell- a plastic lifeless version of what you once were, nothing of your soul remaining inside of you. Could he even consider you 'you' any longer? Or were you now someone else?

Are you someone at all?

"Where is she?" Jungkook asks Seokjin, who'd brought him a plate of dinner into his office.

"She's eating with Yoongi downstairs in the kitchen." He tells his boss and friend, who's currently looking outside the window facing the balcony. "What do we do with her?"

I don't know, is what Jungkook's only answer can be. Because he surely doesn't- he's unsure if actually killing you would be a more generous thing to do than letting you simply waste away in the state that you're in right now. What you are, in this moment, can't be called 'alive'. There's nothing living behind those eyes, nothing but fear.

But he also knows that he'd never be able to put the gun to your head and shoot.

"Can I give a suggestion?" Jin asks after a moment of silence, and Jungkook turns his head, nodding. "What if you turn this whole 'joke' around?"

"What do you mean?" Jungkook asks, body now moving as well to face his older friend.

"Right now, her presence is doing exactly what it's supposed to." The cat hybrid says. "She's making you lose focus, makes you act without thinking. That's what they want."

"I'm not killing her." Jungkook defends.

"I'm not asking you to." Seokjin says, walking closer. "But think about it. What about her is making you feel like this the most?" He urges.

The fear you have. The fact you forgot him. The terror in your eyes. The emptiness you represent.

"Jungkook, you told me once that back then, she was the only thing keeping you sane in that place." The man says, white ears twitching between his hair. "And she can become just that once again."

"Have you seen her?" Jungkook growls.

"Have you?" Jin challenges. "You're in a place of power here. You call the shots, this-" He gestures around. "-all of this is yours. You offer us protection, a home, a place to let our guard down for once. You're not who you were before. You turned your life around- and you can do it again, but this time, it'll be her's." He says, and suddenly, Jungkook understands what his friend is trying to tell him.

This is his place. His territory. He's in charge. He's in control.

Nothing will ever return to what it once was.

Because he'll be the change it needs to turn this twisted joke around.

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"Remember, he's nothing to be scared of." Yoongi tells you, before he opens the door, and gently pushes you inside by your lower back- before he leaves you alone with the tiger hybrid in the room, no longer wearing his jacket, only dressed in a casually unbuttoned black shirt and slacks.

Even his gun is on the table. You could take it at any moment, shoot him, no problem. You know how to shoot a gun. Is he that stupid?

Probably not. There has to be a reason for his actions- you don't think he got to his position by being reckless.

He moves slowly, a lot more confident and most of all relaxed than when you last saw him- the person he is right in this moment a stark contrast to who he'd been when he first saw you. It makes you suspicious, unsure, because if he houses so many different versions of himself inside his body, how could you ever know who the real one is?

"The rules in this house, and under my hand, are simple." He says, voice surprisingly calm as he speaks. "Loyalty." He states, looks at you- and from the fact alone that he doesn't seem to mind, you guess that Yoongi was right when he said that you were allowed to do that. "As long as you don't betray me, I will offer you a safe place, and protection."

That doesn't make sense to you.

If that was true, that would mean that he'd just take in random people just because they don't snitch on him- what the hell would he even get out of that? Inside the Golden House, there were already rumors about him. That he's possessed by the drive to 'change the game' and put hybrids up on top, an odd way to live since apparently he'd escaped this entire circus years prior. Why would he willingly return to it?

Even worse, play the game he barely managed to get out of?

He sits down on the edge of his bed, and only now do you realize where exactly you might be right now. And it confuses you even more. He's letting you into his personal rooms?

Why?

"Come here." He says, and your legs move without any of your control. Like a puppet on a string you're pulled towards him, unable to really go against any orders told to you, like you're mind controlled. The moment you stand in front of him, he reaches out his hand- and you're torn by the possible choice given to you. But if he reaches out, you're supposed to take the hand, right?

Instead, you put your own in his, not making a decision at all.

Control is a scary thing. You don't want it.

He looks at your wrist as he turns your hand over, thumb running over the signature branding you have on your skin, burned in scar never fading. It's when you can spot something on the hand that holds yours, between all the ink and color he's placed underneath the skin. A scar, achingly similar to your own.

Your eyes find his- but he's not looking at you.

So he's from the same place as you once were. Is that why he smells so familiar? Did you forget him? Or did you never know him at all, and simply caught traces of him during your time at the Golden House?

Who is he?

"From now on, you're mine." He tells you, and you soak up that info like a sponge. "You belong here, and nowhere else." He says, and you nod to make sure he knows that you understand. There's a small moment where he simply looks at you, before he nods as well, and lets go of your hand. "Can you write?" He asks, and you eagerly nod, finally expecting a task from him. You'll be useful, you'll have something to do- you won't just have to stand around and wait for something that never happens. "Good. That gives me at least some way you can talk to me, I guess." He mumbles to himself as he gets up and walks past you, to dig around in a small drawer of a desk close by. "I want you to talk. If not with your voice-" He offers a small, palm sized notebook to you, a pen clipped to it's side. "-then with this."

You take the booklet with a nod, opening it to write something down. He expects a thank you- but that's not what he gets.

'What is my purpose here?' you've written, and he sighs to himself.

"Heal." He says, making you look at him confused. You're already starting to show a lot more emotions he notices, and it calms him down quite a bit, because that means that even though you may have forgotten him, you're at least slowly adapting to the overall environment you're now in. You move to write something again, before you hold out the booklet.

'There has to be a job for me.' you write, and he tilts his head at you, arms crossed, veins clear under his forearms, exposed since he'd rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

"And I just told you what it is." He responds, face expressionless, but eyes glimmering with something almost mischievous. "Your job is to heal, adjust, and adapt to the way I run things." He tells you. "But if you want a.. job, I can try and arrange something for you." He huffs, dissatisfied, but still caving in.

You show him the opened page again, something added to the bottom.

'Thank you' is written there.

He just nods, and knocks on his door to give Namjoon the sign to take you to your room so you can sleep- and leave him by himself for a moment, as he watches the calm night-sky from his window, world steadily moving on while he doesn't know what's to come for him.

Even if Seokjin is right, there is no guarantee that this whole thing won't just backfire horribly. And there's still the looming threat of someone amongst his people who's currently the biggest danger to the house of cards Jungkook had barely built up over the years until now. If that person just so much as pushes one more card, it might all come falling down-

and this time, he'll take you with him.

If he dies, you can't survive.

Because if you do, you'll probably face a fate he doesn't even want to imagine.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jeon jungkook x reader

[angelstate]

FWB!Ghost x InloveFemReader.

FWB!Ghost who hates commitment, he doesn’t care about being in a relationship or romantic shit in the slightest, so you don’t even try to come asking for anything else than meaningless sex because he won’t give it to you, he doesn’t have the stomach to do so, neither the heart capable of feeling that sort of things.

FWB!Ghost only knows how to fuck you rough and hard, to make you feel more pain than pleasure, and fill your skin with bite marks and bruises. he doesn’t know gentleness nor care to learn, aftercare is fucking nonexistent with him, if you feel shitty after fucking then you better dress quickly and figure it out in your own house because he is too tired to care.

FWB!Ghost pretends like nothing happens between the two of you when there are people around, he won’t fuck you in the bathroom of a random bar or a dark alleyway, he wants no part in being associated with you in a romantic way. sex is just sex with him, nothing else so don’t get ideas on your mind, he won’t entertain them.

FWB!Ghost is as loving as a rock, with no emotions other than sarcasm and anger coming from him. He doesn’t understand why to stick around but doesn’t care enough to ask, one day you’ll leave him, it is only a matter of time, so he keeps himself clueless on how you see him so as not to strain the “friendship” you have in any way. (he doesn’t consider you a friend)

FWB!Ghost tried to pay you after the first time you had sex because he didn’t want you to think he took advantage of you or that he loved you in any way, it was just an exchange, a way for him to take out his frustration and for you…he isn’t sure what you get but it must be good because you keep coming back to him.

FWB!Ghost who definitely fucks other women, you aren’t the first or the last on the long list of people he has put his dick inside of, but you are the only one that stuck around and the only one he allows to stick around, no matter how much he tries to deny it, he feels like he owes it to you, maybe because he tried to pay you the first time he fucked you, maybe because you were a friend of Soap first that got introduced to a disgusting man like himself or maybe he just feels a bit guilty of how he treats you constantly (he doesn’t change though, at least not for a very long time.)

FWB!Ghost isn’t all bad at times, if you’re telling him something he listens to you till you finish, he sometimes buys you things you want, all sex-related of course, and he isn’t going to pretend he cares about your interest (he does care) he has been more times at a sex store and victoria secret than at a grocery store in the last 3 months.

FWB!Ghost secretly does enjoy spending time with you, don’t get him wrong, he values solitude and having space for himself, but you are good company, you please him in more ways than you just in the bedroom, you cook his favorite foods, watch horror movies even though he knows you hate them, you listen to the little information he gives you about his missions like his words are manuscripts from the bible.

FWB!Ghost loves little things in life, and he would never open his heart for anything or anyone that can hurt him, he doesn’t allow it out of self-preservation, having learned from his past experiences, he loved his family and they were dead because of him, he doesn’t want more blood on his hands, not of the people he loves. (but he doesn’t love you, right?)

FWB!Ghost is comfortable in silence, but with you being oh-so-quiet when you often talk till you have nothing more to say is definitely a strange sight, one that takes his breath away and makes him want to throw up. because he knows silence from you means something is eating you alive so much so you can’t speak.

so he watches you with careful yet empty eyes, nothing is ever really quiet with you, you’re a stubborn woman and he knows that, he knows you like the back of his hand, so when you stare at him, doe eyes full of something he can read it brings a set of emotions he thought he had buried a long time ago. and when you open your mouth to speak but stay silent it becomes his breaking point. “spit it out, will you?” he speaks, his tone rude even though he doesn’t mean to sound that way.

he sees your eyes become wider for a second, bringing your knees to your chest and looking away from him. He hates when when you shut him out of the sight that is your face, always so expressive he doesn’t even have to hear you to know what you think. “I can't do this anymore, I don’t want to do this anymore” you finally speak and time freezes for a second.

Stranger!Ghost doesn’t regret a lot of things in life, nothing burdens his heart to the point of continuous regret, to undying guilt…except you. He knows he wasn’t a kind man, he didn’t know kindness then and doesn’t know it now, but looking back he knows he should’ve learned for you, he should’ve allowed himself to love and accept that letting someone into his life and heart wouldn’t be a death sentence for that person.

Stranger!Ghost isn’t an honest man at all, but when he’s alone and his feeling catch up to him he can’t help to accept he indeed loves you, that he cared about you more than himself, and that he wished to be your lover, to be your husband to…to have a fucking family and a dog and all that corny shit he swore he hated for years.

He had an unknown hope for you to not give up on him back then, to always stick around no matter what because that’s exactly what you did for a long time, you were there and wore the bruises he gave you with honor and love he never understood, he did now.

He saw something shift in you the night you told him you couldn’t keep him around anymore, he remembers your words, they are engraved in his mind so strongly that they keep him up at night sometimes, and when he is drunk he thinks of calling, to confirm you don’t want him anymore.

Stranger!Ghost who can’t help but get drunk and let a few tears fall when he finds out through Soap that you had gotten married to your first love and were now pregnant, waiting to welcome a little girl into the world, and that your husband had gifted you a puppy as to complete the family.

Stranger!Ghost heart aches at the fact he isn’t the man who made you a mother and that he isn’t the father of your child, but he knows not to come into your life again, you deserve peace and build a family without ever facing him again, he wasn’t going to be cruel to you again, he was going to stay away out of love for you, love you will never know about.

#cod x reader #call of duty #cod mw2 #fanfic #cod mw3 #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost riley #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost x you #angst #ghost angst

[seungmoonandstars]

𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: ~2k

rating: fluff -`♡´- (seungmin finally tells you he loves you...but then he has some other problems)

contains: tipsiness, drinking, lots of kissing and touching. part of the blind date universe, but also works as a stand alone piece (⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝ ;)

☾ masterlist

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Seungmin, your Seungmin—your favorite person in the entire world. Your comfort and your good luck charm. The one that you’ve come to know so well...he's still sometimes a mystery.

You’ve learned so much about him in the months that have passed, even though your nights together haven’t totaled up to much more than…maybe six weeks—you know his favorite dishes, and you always work on making them just how he likes it (he still blushes when he comes home and sees something simmering in the kitchen). If his timing is right, he’ll help you cook, and he’s pretty good at it.

His favorite movies, the music he likes to listen to when he's trying to unwind and turn his brain off for a while. Sometimes you hear songs and take note of them, because you think he might like them. You make him playlists—he’s makes them for you, too.

He’s neat, and he keeps his things as organized as possible, which you can’t imagine is easy, seeing as he divides his time between two places now. You hope that habit rubs off on you.

A few of his bad (and not so bad) habits have shown themselves, too. His showers last twice as long as yours, so you always have to beat him to it in the morning. And he talks (mumbles) in his sleep...usually when he’s very tired and keeps himself up too late. If he’s not talking, he’s wrapped around you on your side of the bed. Seungmin is a fierce cuddler in his sleep.

He’s reserved, and sometimes he’s still hesitant to share things with you, and that's okay. It’s normal, because your normal is to over share, and he loves to listen. He’s so good at listening. You don’t think he knows how much of a comfort he really is to you.

The first time…no, technically the second time you told him you loved him (the first time was during sex because you couldn’t help yourself), he was just getting ready to leave. His ride was waiting, and you were holding him up because you needed to work up the courage to say it again. His ears turned red when the words spilled out of your mouth, he stared blankly at you for a moment, then held you against him and kissed your forehead. You weren’t expecting him to say it in return—the kiss, his hand rubbing your back, the barely discernible giggle—all of that said it for you.

Seungmin is a little shy. But even more, he knows how to save things for just the right moment.

｡⋆｡

Tonight, you have him. But not at home. He insisted on bringing you out...out in public, with his friends. Breaking two rules at once. You both agreed on staying away from anywhere anyone could see you together, and you also planned on waiting as long as possible before revealing how serious the relationship was to anymore friends.

You’re shoulder to shoulder with him on one side of the table, Jeongin and Felix are on the other side (Seungmin claims this whole thing was Jeongin’s ideal). The food set out in front of you reminds you of your first date, but there is so much more. He has an appetite tonight; he doesn’t seem at all nervous, like you are. But that could also be the second drink he’s throwing back. You’re only halfway through your first.

“How are you feeling?” He leans in to say it directly in your ear. The restaurant is busy, and it’s a little loud. “You look distracted.”

“It’s weird being out like this. But…”

“But nobody is paying attention to us.”

You nod, look at him, look at his lips. Kissing him would be nice, but you won’t do that here. That can wait until later. When you look across the table to your dinner dates, they’re both staring and smiling at you. They’ve been talkative and warm and sweet, just like Seungmin said they’d be—asking questions, wondering how it was being in the situation you’re in.

Jeongin made a point to tell you how he figured out your existence on his wits alone, and that he’s glad Seungmin stuck with it and kept you around. They, of course, don’t know how difficult the whole thing was, but that’s between you and Seungmin.

Somehow, he notices your exhaustion tonight…your social battery starting to run low. There’s no reason why he should even know what that looks like on you, but he does. He grabs your hand under the table, sets it on his thigh, and holds it tight.

But you don’t want to cut anything short, and it hasn’t been a very long night. This feels important to Seungmin, though. You order another drink. He gets one, too, and soon the need to kiss him becomes a little too overwhelming, so…after a little bit longer, a few more drinks, questions, musings, Felix and Jeongin wondering when you’ll meet everyone…it’s time to go home.

｡⋆｡

Seungmin is quiet the entire ride back. Tired, a little touchy, but he doesn’t say a word. You lead him inside, into the elevator, down the hall—hand in hand. He watches carefully as you unlock and open the door, and it’s then, in the too bright hallway light, you see his heavy, glazed over eyes staring at you.

“Hey,” you grab him by the waist and walk him inside, “how many drinks did you end up having, pup?”

He laughs, but doesn’t answer.

“Can you get your shoes off?”

He mhmmm’s as he falls back onto the chair, “I can…” leans forward, and pulls at the laces on his Nikes, “I can.”

His gaze follows you as you head to the kitchen and fill up the electric kettle, and when he does manage to get both of his shoes off, he shuffles in and leans against the counter, “did you have a good night?” He wets his lips and runs his thumb over your cheek.

“Yeah, I did. They’re both very sweet, I can you see why you’re so close.”

“I think they liked you, too.” Seungmin leans forward and kisses the same spot on your cheek, “I knew they would.”

You turn your head and catch his lips. His laugh breaks up the kiss, and you grab him by the waist again, “go sit down, I’ll bring you some tea.”

He pokes out his tongue and pouts before stumbling away from you, “too warm for tea. It’s warm in here…” his voice trails off as he heads for the living room.

It is warm. It’s still warm outside, too, so opening the windows won’t help much. “I’ll put it on ice.” When you look to him again, he’s already sprawled out on the couch, arms above his head, t-shirt pulling up just enough to reveal his stomach. His eyes are open though, and he’s staring straight up at the ceiling. A yawn escapes him.

You decide against the tea and grab a bottle of water instead. “Up,” he groans as you shake his knee, but he listens and makes room for you, “drink this, it’ll make me feel better.”

“You? I will drink it, but I feel pretty good.”

“Yeah, I should’ve cut you off.”

“I’m good,” he paws at you and pulls you closer. “I feel good. You feel good.”

“You feel good right now, yeah.”

“Mhmm,” Seungmin gently grabs your face and kisses you, once, twice… “very good.” His eyes are still shining with tipsiness, but he’s all there. Drinking isn’t something either of you do often, but Seungmin does like his beer and soju (tonight it was soju) with dinner. He also knows his limit. Tonight, he got there, and maybe a little extra. “Will you be here with me all day tomorrow?”

“I’ll be home before noon, so sleep in for me.”

Another groan. He pulls you closer, “peach…”

“Hmm?”

“Do you love me?” He says it into your neck and kisses slowly upward.

You leave him hanging for a moment. He knows you do, and he also knows you’re going to indulge him and tell him over and over again, if that’s what he wants. “Do I…hmm.” The feel and sound of him biting at the skin below your ear gives you goosebumps…”yeah.” As soon as you close your eyes, everything falls away. It’s just the two of you—nothing else. Seungmin’s touch makes you feel like the only thing that matters.

“Tell me,” he holds tighter and softens his kiss.

I love you

His hands run up your back, and he scratches gently as they come back down. “You do…” he coos, and pulls you onto his lap, so you send a soft string of I love you’s into his ear.

“I love you, too.” He finally says it, a little muffled, lips pressed gently into your skin like he’s savoring the taste.

It feels so good hearing it in his sweet, tired voice. Until now you’ve only heard it in your head. Seungmin’s actions speak very loudly, though, so you knew.

“Do you?” you tease. “...you love me?”

A sweet, tired laugh follows. His hands pull at your shirt, but it stays in place as he makes his way to your lips. You didn’t plan on starting anything—he’s too sleepy and too drunk, but you always want him, and you need to kiss him. You need to get your hands under his shirt and touch his warm skin. So you might start something.

Seungmin giggles again as your fingertips graze him…they run slowly up his side and over his ribs. The laugh turns to a moan, soft, and suddenly very needy, when your thumb circles his stiff nipple. If you had any intention of just getting him safely into bed, it’s now gone. The only thing on your mind is the look in his eyes. And all that matters is how good you can make him feel tonight.

He pouts, moves his hips. “Mhm…I do,” it comes out in another moan, needy and whiny again. Full of want. Maybe your touch is enough to sober him up. “I love you,” he says it again, eyes carefully watching his hand move up your thigh. “I love the way you love me.”

That last part…he says it so quietly you almost don’t catch it. You want to hear it again, though, so you lift his chin and look at him. “What did you say?”

A blush forms over his cheeks and on his ears. He licks his lips and bites down on it, eyes grow bigger, “uhm…I said—“ he stops short and smiles. Shyness is taking over again.

Instead of forcing it back out of him, you decide to show him more of how you love him. You lean forward and kiss him softly. Show him just how much. Both hands slide up his stomach and chest until he’s relieved of his shirt. Your lips close around him, tongue slides slowly over his nipple until he groans. How much you need and love to take care of him. You squeeze his hip, his thigh, sneak your hand between his legs and feel every soft inch of him through the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Sorry,” he squeaks out between kisses, “sorry…too much—“

You shut him up with your mouth and shake your head, “it’s okay, pup, you don’t have to prove anything to me.”

And how much you love the way he loves you.

His eyes are open and unsure as you kiss him. Seungmin has never had a problem getting hard before, and he’s feeling self-conscious, nervous, maybe a little embarrassed. When you open yours and stare back at him, he lets go… “I want you,” he starts, and you kiss him again.

“You have me, and we have all week. I’m just happy I have you here right now, so let me have you.”

Seungmin relaxes—as much as he can manage—and lets you kiss with no protest.

You work slowly, leaving loud, wet kisses all over him; the soft spot underneath his chin, his throat. It tickles, and he stifles his laugh, so you move even slower across his jaw until you can bite his earlobe.

“…feels good,” he sighs.

“Why don’t we get into bed…” you pull back, push the hair away from his forehead, and kiss there.

“Mhmm…”

“I’ll light some candles, turn off all the lights…and give you a nice massage, wherever you need it.”

Seungmin nods, “everywhere.”

“Okay…everywhere.”

#kim seungmin #skz seungmin #seungmin x reader #seungmin x you #seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x y/n #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin fluff #seungmin fluff #kim seungmin fanfic #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #☾ blind date

[inbloomwriting]

If I had you II Jamie Tartt

Plot: Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. Reader thinks it's the easiest thing in the world. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Notes: This is inspired by the song "a daydream away". It's 5.2k words of pure friends-to-lovers sweetness.  Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. It’s a chore to love him, the real him not the overly confident golden boy he portrays on the pitch. Just look at his track record, that just proves his point. Sure his mom loves him, he never questioned that, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy for her. He’s convinced he’s made her cry more than once with yet another stupid decision. Then there’s his father who loves nothing more than to belittle him and lay out all his flaws for him and the world to see. And if even your own dad doesn’t love you, how can you expect others to. 

So maybe that’s the reason he doesn’t let anyone close enough to even begin to love him. Sooner or later they’ll figure out how much of an effort it takes and that he, of all people, truly isn’t worth it. 

And maybe, perhaps, that’s also the reason he doesn’t allow himself to explore the feelings he harbors for his best friend. He tried to deny them to himself for so long. Tried to pass it off as pure, unfiltered friendship. That’s bullshit though. He knows the feelings are there and there is no use in denying them. That doesn’t mean he can ever allow himself to act on them though. He’d just fuck it all up, the way he usually does with everything he touches. 

The shiny hardwood floor feels cold and smooth as he sits leaning against the kitchen counter, legs stretched out before him. A smile is permanently etched onto his face as (Y/N) talks about something that happened at her work today. He should listen, it’s probably a fun story judging by the way her giggles make her stop talking every few seconds. He should listen but he is so enamored with her that he can not pay attention to anything else. In a perfect world, in a world where loving him was easy, he’d lean over and kiss her. He'd kiss her silly and she’d kiss him back and life would be sweet and it would make sense. In that perfect world, she would love him back the same way he loves her and it would be easy and he’d deserve her. 

But that is not the world he’s living in. That is not his reality. Just a beautiful daydream he allows himself to escape to every once in a while. Loving her in a daydream is safe. It’s secret and quiet and there is no hurt there and no rejection. 

“Why are you grinning like that, huh Tartt?” 

She asks before taking a sip from the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands. It’s an unusually hot summer’s day. One that makes it impossible to do anything but sit on the floor in as little clothing as possible and drink one cold drink after the other. Even if that means getting a little tipsy on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Nothing. Just happy to have you here. Missed you.”

“We didn’t see each other for a week and you already missed me?”

He misses her the minute she leaves. It’s like his heart isn’t complete if she isn’t there but he can’t really say that can he? Friends don’t tell friends things like that. And a friend is all she is. His best one but still. Telling her any of this could jeopardize their friendship and Jamie doesn’t think he could handle life without her. Not when a week already felt like torture. 

“Well yeah, I’m proper shit at cooking. I need you to feed me.” 

“Oh, is that so? Thought Mr. Bigshot footballer could get free food at any restaurant he fancies.”

She’s teasing but never mean and never hurtful. That’s something he cherishes so much about their friendship. His feelings, his fears — all of it is safe with her. There is no hurt or pain or fear. Just her and her friendship and warmth. And a pair of open arms ready to catch him whenever he stumbles and falls.

“True. But some fancy place in Mayfair will laugh at me if I ask them to make me dino nuggets, won’t they?”

Her laughter, he decides then, is his favorite sound in the world. It makes everything feel alright even if it’s just for a fleeting moment. He needs to keep his feelings locked up in that beautiful daydream because he can never lose this melody her laughter creates. And anyway, he wouldn’t even know what to do if he ever really had her.

— It’s not like she’d say yes anyway.

“You’re probably right about that,” she says and leans her head against his shoulder. And though it’s muggy and hot and he’s sure he can feel their skin stick together, he doesn’t shake her off. She’s part of his heart already, might as well melt into one completely. “You want me to make you some nuggets?” 

“Nah,” Jamie replies and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. Friends kiss friends on the head all the time, everyone knows that. Right? "That's okay. Already had a Kebab with Roy earlier.” 

“You guys are becoming friends then? Should I be worried I’m gonna lose my best friend status?” 

Jamie lets out some mix between a chuckle and a scoff. As if anyone in all the world could ever replace her. What a ridiculous thought. 

“Well he doesn’t make me nuggets, does he? No alphabet soup either. So no. Not yet.” 

The little shake of her fist she does in victory makes him grin even bigger. He must look like a damn fool. 

“I should probably get going sometime soon, I need to finish up some work and do laundry and do all that boring adult stuff that’s waiting for me at home.” 

There are lots of things he should be doing instead of sitting on his kitchen floor on a Tuesday afternoon getting half drunk on cheap beer and half on his overwhelming love for her. He’s sure there are a bunch of texts and emails waiting for him to sort through. Keeley might be popping a blood vessel soon if he doesn’t answer her about that brand requesting to work with him on some ad campaign. And he will get back to her — soon. 

Right now it doesn’t matter. Right now all that matters is him and (Y/N) and their little corner of safety and — home.

“But I don’t want to.” 

“Yeah, me neither. Just want to sit here with you and — “ 

“ — hang out?” 

“Mh. Hang out.” 

That was not what he wanted to say but none of the words ghosting through his head are meant to be spoken out loud. They are his to feel and think and keep hidden and quiet. 

“Good, we can hang out a little longer I think.” 

And he’ll take what he can get. All the precious minutes she grants him he cherishes. 

Right now could last forever and he wouldn’t mind at all.

Not as long as he’s with her.

Some early 00s pop song is blasting from the speakers of the bar. Everyone’s in good spirits and drinks are flowing freely. 

(Y/N) is leaning against the bar talking to Colin, laughing about something he said, radiating joy and happiness. 

She loves his friends, his boys, his family. Jamie loves that she loves them so dearly, so fiercely as if they are her own family. At this point, they might as well be. She remembers all their birthdays, drops by unannounced with cookies for everybody, cheers them on louder than anybody else. Hell, she even gets Roy to smile and that’s quite something. She’s as much a part of the AFC Richmond family as she is a part of his life. 

“Jamie-Jam-Jam what are you sulking over here for,” her voice cuts through the crowd and the music as she slides into the booth next to him. She looks gorgeous in the hazy neon lights. Then again, she always looks gorgeous. 

“Not sulking. Just — thinking.” 

“About what?”

You. He’d say if he was honest and not such a coward. You and how much I adore you and how hard it is not to tell you any of this and fuck up our friendship. 

“Was considering getting me nipples pierced. I’d have to take them out though and I imagine that would be quite annoying.” 

“Probably,” she agrees and nods her head before adding “It would look sick though.” 

“Right? I reckon it would.” 

She laughs at that and once again it shakes his entire world. Like little earthquakes inside his heart. 

Her voice is quieter after her laughter subsides, soft and gentle, and with the loud music it feels like her words are only meant for him. “I like this,” she says almost wistfully.

“The song? Who’s that, Rihanna?” 

“Not the song, silly boy. This — “ she gestures around the room towards all their friends, dancing and laughing and having the time of their lives. And then she motions to the two of them, secluded and safe inside their own little bubble. “escaping our busy lives for a moment.” 

“Lot of journalists would disagree with you there, love. That my life was busy.” 

“They don’t know you like I know you.” 

There’s a sincerity in her eyes, a warmth, something he can’t quite explain. It’s familiar and foreign all at once. 

“No one knows me like you do. You had pity on Jamie Tartt, messy little prick from math class. They just know Jamie Tartt, the footballer from Richmond.Still a prick but now with better hair.” 

Before he knows what’s happening, her hands take hold of his face and gently rest against his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Really look at her.

“I never had pity on you, Jamie. I thought you were funny and exciting and infinitely cool. That’s why I wanted to be your friend. And I was right! About the funny part, not the cool part.” 

“Obviously.” 

“But I never took pity on you. I don’t think you realize how highly I think of you. Now let me get a sip of that drink.” 

He’s still in some sort of haze brought on by her words when a groan coming from her shakes him from his thoughts. Her face is all scrunched up in disgust as she places his glass back on the table. “Ew, what the fuck is that?” 

“I’m not sure, honestly. Barkeeper said she’d mix me a Jamie Tartt and I was like fuck yeah, a drink named after me.”

“It’s disgusting. Did you shag and dump her at some point? Like, is she mad at you for some reason?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that woman before in my life … so yeah maybe.” 

Shaking her head with a smirk on her face she grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him out of the booth and towards the bar on the other side of the place, the one with the older male bartender with the impressive beard.

“You ever had a thing with him?” she asks as she leans against the counter, trying to get the man’s attention.

“Nah, I’d remember that facial hair.” 

From then on the night tastes like tequila and beer and it feels like a warm hug. She doesn’t join in on all his drinks, stops herself after a beer and a shot, but she does join him in all the other shenanigans. Like when they make up ridiculous backstories for strangers and have a laugh about some corporate douchebag trying desperately to get with some woman who clearly has no interest in him. 

“Henry from accounting.”

“Nah, that’s Charlie from HR.” 

“Well, either way, Maisie from South Shields is not interested.” 

He could stay here forever, laugh the night away. Drunk on happiness, on love — and also on quite a lot of booze. 

“Come on, Jamie-Jam, “ she says and hands him his jacket. She’s all gentle hands and gentle eyes. “Let me give you a ride home.” 

“We’re going home?”

“I think it’s time. Think someone had a little too much.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

He is but also not. He’s sorry for being a burden — again. He’s not sorry for letting himself enjoy a night of unadulterated happiness with the people that mean the most to him.

“No need to apologize, Jamie. I’m glad you had fun. Now come on, silly boy. I’m tired.”

And when they step out of the place and into the night, all sweaty and hair a mess, he thinks that of all the things his eyes have ever seen, the best by far is her. Then and always. 

London passes by in a blur as (Y/N) drives them towards his house. All the bougie buildings and the iron fences and the trees in the parks, it’s all one kaleidoscope of color, a smudge of light and shadows. 

It’s not like he can really focus on that though. Partly because all he can think of is her and partly because he’s absolutely wasted. Mostly her though. Definitely mostly her.

“Did you have a good time?” his voice slices through the comfortable silence.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you, silly boy. Did you?” 

He rests his cheek against the smooth leather of her car seats and regards her with an infinite sense of wonder and adoration. In any other situation, this position would be deeply uncomfortable but he’s numb to anything but the beating of his heart and the strings that pull him towards his best friend.

“Obviously. Had my best girl with me. “

“Keeley?”

His eyebrows raise in confusion. “Keeley? No you numpty, you!” 

“Me?”

“Why would you think I was talking about Keeley?”

He wishes he could see the look on her face. This is not a car conversation. 

“Uh, she’s the only real adult relationship you ever had and you had a poster of her on your wall. Makes one think things. In fact, I believe that poster is still up.”

Jamie can’t help but scoff at her words. Not in a dismissive way necessarily but this whole conversation seems so silly to him. Yeah, he loved Keeley in a way and yeah she’s still one of his best friends but never has she come close to (Y/N). Keeley hardly ever got to see the real Jamie, the one that didn’t hide behind this larger-than-life footballer persona. (Y/N) met him before that persona even existed.

“Stop thinking things then. You’re my best girl, always.”

He still can’t see her face since she is looking at the road in front of them, but he can see the smile pulling the corner of her lips upwards, and for the moment that’s good enough for him.

Her car comes to a stop in front of Jamie's house but while he drags himself out of his seat, she stays put. 

“What are you doing, love?” 

“Dropping you off?” 

“Are you not coming inside then?” 

“Do you want me to come inside? We spent pretty much all week with each other, I thought you might be sick of me by now.” 

A ridiculous thought if he’s ever heard one. He could never get sick of her. They could be glued to each other for the rest of eternity and he wouldn’t mind one bit. 

Even in his drunk state of mind though, he realizes that’s not something he can tell her. That crosses out of friend territory. So he just chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Do I want you to come in? What a dumb question is that? Of course, I do. I have a bag of those disgusting spicy crisps waiting for you in my kitchen.”

“In that case —” 

10 minutes later they’re sitting on his couch, her legs across his lap, munching away at those god-awful crisps as some overly dramatic American home renovation show flickers across the TV screen. 

In moments like these, love lives here. In these walls and on this couch. And it’s terrifying because thinking about love also makes him think of the possibility of losing it. But every once in a while, Jamie lets himself feel a tiny bit of it. Just enough to keep him going. 

“Hey Jamie,” she speaks up, her face only illuminated by the light coming from the TV. She’s wearing his shirt and he wills himself not to focus too hard on that because that will cause images to ghosts through his mind that he can’t allow himself to ever think about. Images that cross every line ever drawn when it comes to friendships.

“Yes, love?” 

“You’re my best boy too. Not sure I ever told you.” 

He doesn’t answer, not in words at least. But he squeezes her legs as they rest on him, and he hopes she knows. Oh god if only she knew. 

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thinks so. (Y/N) knows he thinks so because he let it slip once or twice when he was drunk and his words were all jumbled and his mind was all hazy. 

And every damn time it breaks her fucking heart. Because loving Jamie Tartt is the easiest thing she ever did. It comes as natural as breathing. It feels like a nice ray of summer sun on her skin, sizzling and exciting and warm.

Loving Jamie is a gift.

Now if only there was a way she could make him realize that. But every time he lets himself be even a little vulnerable he is so quick to cover the cracks with stupid jokes or misplaced arrogance before a real conversation can happen. 

She needs him to realize it though. To understand that loving him isn’t difficult. Because how can you tell someone you love them and make them understand just how much they mean to you when they deem themself unlovable? 

Turning her head to the side she looks at his sleeping face. Somewhere between Fixer Upper and House Hunters, he fell asleep, leaving her alone with her thoughts. He’s snoring something awful but she still thinks he’s adorable. Jamie has a mischievous, lovable quality to him that just makes you open your heart to him whether you want to or not. Yeah, sure, he’s let people down, he’s done shitty things, but he’s trying. He’s learned and he’s changed and the price for being young and stupid and cocky should not be a life spent questioning if you deserve other people’s love. 

Jamie Tartt is not hard to love. But loving him and not being able to tell him because he doesn’t love you in quite the same way, that’s just fucking cruel.

The air is loaded with static. Everyone is on the edge of their seat. (Y/N) is huddled in between Rebecca and Keeley, holding their hands and nervously biting at her lip. Emotions are running high as Richmond is playing Manchester. Correction — they’re not only playing them, they are kicking their asses.

It’s 2-0 for Richmond and they’re already 1 minute into the 3 minutes of additional time. If Manchester doesn’t get a miracle, Richmond wins. The thought of that makes a fluttery feeling spread in (Y/N)’s stomach. If this is how she feels, she can only imagine what Jamie must feel like. 

1:30

2 minutes

2:30

3 minutes.

“Blow the whistle. Come on. Blow the fucking whistle.” 

And as if he heard her pleading, the referee blows the whistle giving Richmond their win. 

Laughter and cheers and songs fill the air as every Richmond fan is on their feet celebrating a win they so desperately wanted and that the team fought so hard for.

The win Jamie fought so hard for. 

She tries to find him across the pitch but there are too many people, hugging and celebrating, too much noise. She just hopes he knows how proud she is.

And she hopes that somewhere out there his dad is watching. Sees him win, with the team he doesn’t approve of. Watches him succeed and be the man he never was and never will be.

She hopes somewhere deep in the inky black pit that is his heart, he finds a glimmer of pride for his only son, even if it comes entirely belated.

Jamie has won quite a few matches by now and it’s always a great feeling but some wins stand out. This is one of them.

His heart is filled with gratitude and pride, and his entire system is flooded with adrenaline and utter euphoria. He’s positively buzzing as the team gathers in the hallway leading toward the locker room. Some of them have been whisked away to give short post-match interviews — as if there is much to say other than how fucking awesome it feels to win — while the others are waiting for them to come back so they can all meet up at the locker room for some after match briefing. 

“Superstar, you did it!” 

Her voice carries through the hallway above the rest of all the noise. Like a siren calling out to him, she can’t hear anything but her, it all shifts into the background.

She weaves through the crowd like a fucking goddess in blue. He always thought she looked good in the Richmond colors and seeing her with his name on her back never fails to make his heart shutter with delight. But there’s something about today that makes this even more special. 

Maybe it’s the adrenaline of winning. Of making his mom proud and proving his dad wrong. Of proving himself wrong. Maybe it’s seeing her in his kit, with his name and his number smiling that radiant smile of hers. Maybe it’s a combination of all these things. But something makes his brain short-circuit for a moment. Just a fleeting moment but long enough to make him push through the crowd until he’s standing in front of her, matching smiles on their faces. Just long enough for him to softly place one hand on her waist and pull her closer, so unbelievably close. Just long enough to cradle her face in his other hand, gentle and careful, like the most precious thing in the world. Long enough for him to place his lips on hers in a kiss so sweet, so long in the making, it feels surreal. It feels like he’s still stuck in his saccharine daydream.

And then reality snaps back and he pulls away, opening his eyes to a smiling (Y/N) staring back up at him through curious eyes.

“Silly boy, what was that?” 

She doesn’t sound upset, in fact, his delusions might even make him think she sounds delighted. 

“I — “ 

“Jamie, locker room. Let’s go, boy!” 

Ted’s voice calls out to him all full of glee and jubilation. The guy sounds even more chipper than usual and that says a whole lot. 

Pulling away from her feels like having a bubble suddenly popped. Every what-if that has been clouded by post-win euphoria suddenly bears their ugly head again. Sometimes Jamie wishes his thoughts weren’t so fucking loud all the time.

“Go, your coach is asking for you. I’ll see you at the after-party. We’ll talk then, yeah?”

Only they don’t because, for some inexplicable reason, Jamie avoids her like the plague.

Everyone is gathered at the bar for celebratory drinks, it’s a private function, just the team and family and associates. Spirits are high, everyone’s excited. And all things considered this night should be magical. Only it’s not, because once again Jamie refuses to let himself be loved.

Rejection tastes bitter. It’s sharp and metallic. Rejection also tastes quite a lot like tequila.

The salt, the lime, the liquor — it’s supposed to make her feel better. It’s supposed to mend the cracks in her heart, if only for a night. 

It doesn’t do any of that, it only makes her fucking sad.

How foolish of her to believe that he’d feel the same, that he’d finally pick up on the hints she’s been dropping for over a decade and reciprocate the feelings. Maybe they never stood a chance anyway. Maybe —

No, actually fuck that.

He can’t do this, it’s unfair. You don’t kiss someone, not like that at least, and then ignore them for the rest of the night. Especially not when that person is your best fucking friend.

Bumping against people left and right, she makes her way across the room to stand next to a smiling Jamie deep in conversation with a pretty girl, who (Y/N) is quite sure is the sister of one of his teammates.

“I need to talk to you.” It’s not a request. Not this time. This conversation has been a long time coming. It’s time, she thinks, to finally be brave. One can only swallow down their feelings and emotions for so long, until they come bubbling to the surface like a fucking volcano rolling over Pompeii. She just hopes that once the dust settles there will be hope instead of death and destruction.

“Uh, kind of in the middle of something here.” 

She can’t stand this part of him. This fake, unbothered cool guy who has no empathy for her or anyone other than himself. She hates it mostly because this is not the real Jamie, just some cardboard cutout version of him.

“Too bad, that'll have to wait.” 

She doesn’t give him another second to resist or shake her off, just grabs onto his arm and pulls him through the crowd and towards the exit.

The nightly London air feels cold against her skin, making her shiver as goosebumps appear on her arms.

“What the fuck is going on with you?”

“What the fuck is going on with me?”

He can’t be serious.

“Yeah. I had something going there. She was well fit too.”

The urge to smack him across his stupidly handsome face is seriously fighting her desire to kiss him again right about now.

“Good for her but you owe me a conversation.”

“(Y/N), I — “ 

The way he rolls his eyes so dismissively, so suave and cool, it’s like a dagger straight to the heart.

“No, you know what — fuck you, Jamie. I know you have a hard time letting people in completely, and I get that that’s something you have to work through on your own time but the way you're treating me right now is really shit. You can’t kiss me like that and then run. I’ve been waiting for that fucking kiss for over a decade.” 

“What?” 

He looks at her with the signature Jamie Tartt look of confusion and innocence. Like a damn puppy or something. And if she wasn’t so annoyed, so hurt, maybe she’d find it endearing.

“I’m in love with you, Jamie. I’ve been in love with you since the day I met you. I’ve been in love with you since I was sat next to you in class and you asked me if Pythagoras was that French guy. I’ve loved you when you were just a chaotic teenager. I’ve loved you when you won your first game and when you lost. I’ve loved you when you signed your first contract and when you made a complete fool of yourself on that ridiculous tv show. And I love you now. So to think you finally picked up on it and reciprocate my feelings was — I was so happy, Jamie. Only for you to completely ignore me for the rest of the night. I don’t deserve that. Not from you of all people. “

“Will you let me talk?”

“No, I’m not done yet.”

“Alright, go on.”

“I love you, Jamie and I know you think I shouldn’t and that you don’t deserve it, but guess what? I don’t care. I love you anyway and I am not asking for permission to love you. That’s not how it works. And I don’t love you despite your flaws, I love them too. Even your stupid 2003 looking haircut and your ridiculous clothes that make you look like a male Bratz doll sometimes. Sorry people in your life made you feel like you had to earn it just because they couldn’t see how phenomenal you are. Just you, Jamie Tartt, messy little prick.” 

Silence wraps around them like a thick blanket as a moment passes, then two. Jamie raises his eyebrows in question.

“Can I?”

“Yes, you can!”

“Jesus, alright. Stop yelling at me.”

“Well, I’m upset!”

“And I’m sorry about that. I never meant to upset you. Ever. I just — do you remember that one birthday, I think I turned 12, when me dad showed up and he was just being his usual asshole self and he made me play against him and then yelled at me in front of all the guests when he won? “

She sure does. Even at 12, she wanted to put her tiny little fist straight between Mr. Tartt’s eyebrows. “Yes.”

“You sat with me when I went to my room to escape. Refused to leave my side. Called my dad a wanker and you made me laugh. Then you got me a piece of cake and we ate it on my bed while watching Spongebob.” A smile plays on his lips as he reminisces about that day.

“I was 12 and I didn’t know a lot but I knew that night that I was in love with you and I immediately promised myself I wasn’t gonna do anything about it. Losing you is the scariest thing I can think about and my track record with people is pretty shit, honestly. So yeah I didn’t want to even risk fucking up with you. Rather have you as a friend than not have you at all.”

“So why did you kiss me earlier after all?”

“For one, you looked so fit in blue, with my name on your back. I was full of adrenaline and just so fucking happy. I uh — I think my mind was telling me that it’s finally time to be brave for once.”

Hearing him say it, it’s something she never expected but always hoped for. She’s played this scene out so many times in her dreams and yet she doesn’t know what to say or do now that it is actually happening.

“So what now?”

“Well, if you let me, I was gonna kiss you. Because if you think that other kiss was great, this next one is going to change your life.”

As those words fall from his lips, (Y/N) can’t get close to him quick enough. Pulling him towards her by the front of his shirt. Closer and closer until there is no room left between them and he gently nuzzles his nose against hers. 

“Jamie Tartt?” 

“Hmm?”

“Change my life!”

Jamie Tartt is hard to love. At least he thought so. And maybe a part of him still does and always will. But kissing (Y/N), his best girl, the fucking love of his life, it feels quite easy to let himself be loved. 

Feels as easy as breathing. And for once in his life, the reality is so much sweeter than the daydream. 

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt oneshot #ted lasso tv show fanfiction #I dont know what else to tag this as my friends .... #inbloomwriting

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

First Date

Requested: No

Warnings: None that I can think of

Ghost - Dinner

Ghost is very much a man who enjoys the simpler things like a nice hot meal. So of course a first date with him would be that exact thing. I’d say that he doesn’t like fancy restaurants but also that he wouldn’t be comfortable bringing you home for a first date. He’d meet somewhere in the middle with a middling reasutaunt. Not something as casual as IHop but not fancy fancy. He’ll dress nice but not too nice. A good pair of jeans, a clean t-shirt, though he only owns the one pair of muddied and scruffed up military boots.

He’s so nervous throughout it too, but it comes off as him anti-social or uninterested in you. Speaking only in quiet grunts and keeping his eyes away from you. If you’re the more sensitive type then your feelings are bound to get a bit hurt, but he’ll try to show you just how much he enjoyed your company afterwards. Brushing his fingers against yours as you both head out, quietly mumbling, asking you “same time next week?” with a little blush at the tips of his ears.

Soap - Movie

Soap immediately goes for the very sweet and simple approach of asking you on a date to the movies. He’d prefer an indoor theater but he’s definitely not opposed to a drive in. If you let him pick the movie then he’ll go for something cute, probably a cartoon or something. He seems like he’d like ones like Puss in Boots and Luca. But if you’d like to pick then he’s down to watch almost everything, though he draws the line at war movies. A war documentary might be fine. He dresses completely casual, prioritizing his own comfort over looking nice. Old jeans, old shirt, old boots. Completely honest to who he is, letting you get to know him.

He’s not too nervous throughout the whole time. Maybe a hint of it here and there when you get too quiet or you glance at him between scenes in the movie, your eyes catching his quietly before looking away. He might be a bit bold in asking to hold your hand on the way out, talking to you about your favorite parts of the movie or your favorite characters, his thumb rubbing circles on the back of your hand the whole time he listens to your voice.

Alejandro - Home Date

A first date with Alejandro will be at a home, either his or yours, doesn’t matter to him. He’d prefer his place just because he plans on cooking for you, and even buys ice cream as a dessert. Between dinner and sweets he’ll set up games for you both to play while getting to know each other better by asking small and simple questions. It’s cozy and he doesn’t even mind if you start accidentally falling asleep, just setting you up in the guest room with a warm and cozy blanket, waking you up the next morning with the smell of a delicious breakfast.

He’s less shy than some of the others, and probably has already existed whether or not he’d like to keep pursuing you. He’ll probably suggest lunch next, that same day of course! You’re already staying for breakfast, what’s one more meal? But of course, now you’ve stayed over half the day with him, why not just have dinner with him again? It’s a vicious cycle, one that will be almost impossible to break, especially when he starts to sweet talk you, already pressing hot and heavy kisses to your cheeks and throat, holding you close between him and a wall when you tell him you have to leave. Come on, just stay five more minutes? You won’t regret it!

König - Picnic

A picnic in a nice open field is the perfect first date for König. No crowds to overwhelm him and he’s not expected to be paying too much attention to anything but you and the food. He’ll dress nicely for the occasion, a nice shirt and boots but his jeans will be a bit old and worn because he didn’t want to ruin a nice pair since you’d both be sitting on the ground, granted with a nice blanket under you and the food that he packed. He’d probably focused more on the main course over the snack parts, things like sandwiches and side dishes. Maybe a bag of crisps he thought you might like.

Afterwards he’ll be so shy, asking you if you’d like to go on a second date while he holds the blanket and basket close to his chest as he waits for your answer, his face completely red when you agree, a small and cute smile stretching his cheeks for the rest of the week, accompanied by a dreamy look in his eyes.

#cod #call of duty #mwii #mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod mwii #call of duty mw2 #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #Alejandro Vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #König #König x reader

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 5

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

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

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 10.4k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Teasing, fluff, Dolly has low self esteem but it's not her fault, Bat Max comes with his own warning. Summary: In the course of one day, conversations turn from right interesting to downright life-changing, as Max starts to learn the truth of your connection from you but also from his sire. Notes:  Big revelations are coming, folx! 🎵 Let's have a beautiful picture of the wonderful ballroom this week.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

You really should be paying more attention as Candance and Tracy talk through coven business. The room that you have come to know as the Green Salon in your inherited house is full to the brim with coven members all talking about the food drive they want to help out at for Thanksgiving next month. There are volunteer signups to follow through with and your own can drive to be organized, and you have to admit that this is the most community-focused coven that you've ever been a part of. But still you can't focus. The dreams have been so vivid lately, and they're such a mix of topics – your little bat friend pops up so often, and you haven't dreamt about Yayo in years. And now...now thoughts of Max are starting to slip in between the cracks and you aren't quite sure what it all means.

Mrs. Taylor smiles as she listens to the chattering of the coven. It's been too long since there has been life within these walls. He had been right in assuming that you would bring that life back to the mansion. Knocking on the door, she opens it to find several heads turned her way and she clears her throat. "Ladies, lunch is served."

"Thank you, Mrs. Taylor." Her appearance snaps you out of your daze for a moment, and you lend her a grateful smile. Breakfast this morning was simple because it was just for you, but Renee said that Mrs. Taylor had already been toiling away on lunch from early in the morning. She seems to revel in having people in the house again and you are the last person to want to deny someone the thing that makes them happy.

"Let's go in and we can start planning the masquerade while we eat," Allison suggests, pushing up from the couch that the two of you had been sitting on.

The housekeeper smiles before she disappears again. Aware that he is upstairs and once the meal is presented for the humans, she is going to take him one of the special blood bags that he requests when he is in residence.

The coven has preferred things ‘family style’ in recent years, even when Ms. Brown was a more traditional and formal woman most of the time. So Mrs. Taylor has set the table with bowls of fresh salad, baskets of warm homemade crusty bread, and tureens of steaming hot beef bourguignon. A few of the ladies, Allison included, all groan happily to have Mrs. Taylor’s cooking back. She pulls out a notebook to place at her seat but pauses, allowing herself what she thinks is a private smile when Eddie enters the dining room.

“Is it still alright for me to join you?” He asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and a nervous expression on his face as he looks around. The invitation is a week old and might not still hold, so he wants to check.

"Of course!" Allison leaps up from her chair, even though it technically should be you answering Eddie since it is your house. "I mean, I don't think anyone would mind, right?" She looks around the table and is silently grateful for when the girls easily shift down to leave a spot right next to her own chair for the vampire to sit.

“Of course.” When you echo your agreement that seems to be the end of any debate at all. “We were going to start planning the masquerade while we eat.”

"Oh, I have to admit, I am hoping that I am invited." He tells the coven hopefully, giving them a charming grin. "I have always wanted to go to a masquerade."

“Of course you will be.” Candace pipes up from across the table, where the bread basket is already being passed around. “You live here. It would be awfully rude not to invite you when you live here.” Of course, it’s for Allison’s benefit too. And for you, since you seem a little more relaxed around Eddie than most other people.

"That's good." He makes sure to pass the bread to Allison when it comes his way, not taking one for himself. "Is this - it's going to be a thing that requires dates?" He slides his hands under the table to rub them on his thighs. His hands aren't sweaty anymore, he doesn't sweat, but he is nervous.

"It could be." Allison worries her bottom lip as she takes a slice of warm bread and passes you the basket. "What do you think, Dolly?"

"It...it doesn't seem nice to make it mandatory," you admit, taking a slice of bread and passing the basket along again. You can't imagine anyone in the world would be your date to such a thing and you would hate to be excluded from the night for something like that. Especially, like Candance said, with it being held in your own house. "But dancing is always fun with a partner."

Eddie nods, sensing that you don't like the idea. "Then we should make sure that it's not required to have dates, but maybe the guest list is even to make sure everyone is paired up when it comes to dancing."

“Like dance cards?” The salad is making its way around now and once more Eddie passes it on while he listens to you. “As in…something old fashioned? Dance cards for everyone who wants one?”

“I don’t know what it would be like, but I love the sound of that.” He glances towards Allison and wonders if he can make sure that he is on her dance card more than once.

“Mrs. Taylor brought out some old photographs from past masquerades in the house.” You haven’t seen them yet, but you’ve been told that all the gowns were one of a kind and the men looked resplendent in their costumes. That’s what Mrs. Taylor said, with absolute rhapsody on her face. “A hundred and fifty years ago they would start the ball at ten or so at night, serve supper around midnight, and end the thing with breakfast at sunrise for whoever was left.”

“That sounds perfect.” Of course, Eddie knows why it was held at night, but he’s not going to say anything about that. “Are you thinking of keeping to that tradition?”

“How does it sound to everyone else?” You ask, looking around the table.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Of course, Allison would practically think anything Eddie suggests would be wonderful, but this does sound amazing. “It’s an ode to the past.”

“A return to the Gilded Age sounds fun.” Candace agrees. “We can do themed menus if Mrs. Taylor is okay with it? And encourage historical costumes?”

“I think that Mrs. Taylor would love that.” Eddie agrees. “She loves things like that. It would make her year. And I’ll help out wherever I can.”

“Thirteen of us, plus guests. That’s a fairly big party isn’t it?” You differ to Mrs. Taylor, who has popped into the dining room again to bring more bread like she somehow magically knew the first round would go instantly.

“Invite as many as you like, ladies,” she insists. Her smile is excited and eyes are twinkling like she has a secret she is just bursting to share. “This house can handle hundreds.”

“You could always invite the town as well.” Eddie suggests. “Make it the event of the season.”

“The whole town? Can we do that?” Tracy looks intrigued at the idea and glances around the table. “It could be a hell of a fundraiser, and I know we’re always looking for ways to do more good in the community.”

“It could be a ticketed event.” Eddie muses. “All proceeds going to the coven's charitable works?”

"It actually sounds like a whole lot of fun." The last time you organized any kind of dance or fundraiser was with your dance studios in high school and then in college, but back then it had been a blast to get decorations, refreshments, flyers, and all the necessary things sorted out for big events. It was a sense of accomplishment that nothing else quite seemed to give you. Bringing people together and seeing everyone happy? Your mother called it your hostess's heart, and had always said you would use it to help people one day. This seems like a beautiful way to make her words come true. "Tracy, you work at town hall, don't you? If we need any permits for serving alcohol or having a large fundraiser, would you be able to take care of them?"

“Of course!” Tracy beams at the thought of being able to help in any significant way. “I’ll find out Monday and let you know.”

“What about music?” Allison asks next. Everyone is starting to eat, and people are getting excited. And with Eddie sitting beside her, Allison has to admit that she’s more than a little excited, too.

“You know…..” Eddie tilts his head. “The orchestra group in college has been talking about needing to have more live events.” He sounds out. “To practice. What if I see if they would like to perform?”

“That would be perfect!” Candace lights up at the table and few of the other girls nod alongside her. “Gilded Age theme, right? Maybe we can make it like classical versions of pop songs? Like they did for Bridgerton?”

“I’ll ask them.” Eddie chuckles and nods his head. “It’ll be a challenge that I think they would enjoy.”

“I’ll ask Mrs. Taylor to look out for any old boxes of party decorations from long enough ago to be an inspiration for us. If we’re lucky there will be something in the attic alongside the clothing we borrowed this week. I sort of get the feeling that most things don’t get thrown out in this house.” As always, Mrs. Taylor’s cooking is off the walls amazing and all around the table people are humming happily and enjoying their lunch as the planning picks up.

“The house is basically a museum.” Eddie snorts, sipping his double walled cup. “What could possibly give you the idea they don’t like throwing things away?” He winks at you to remind you that he’s teasing playfully.

"It's a beautiful museum." Every day you spend here, you fall more and more in love with the house. There's always new details to discover. New intricacies in the carvings, new details in the paintings, new trinkets in the cases all around the hallways. "I'm glad everything got kept. It gives it so much more character than all the brand new houses that are just painted white and made of one big room divided by furniture you're not supposed to touch."

Eddie tilts his head, watching you smile, and he thinks about how far you have come since the first time he had talked to you. Even your posture is more assertive, as if you have come into your own skin. He would believe you had been turned if it weren’t for the steady thump of your heartbeat, mixed with those of your coven.

"So when are we doing this?" Allison has her notebook, and in the front is a calendar that is just positively chock full of little notes to herself but she flips open to it anyway. "Can we actually get all of this organized by the end of the month?"

“I’ve already aired the ballroom out.” Mrs. Taylor announces, having just come back from the tower. “As far as the menu goes, you tell me what you would like and it will be done.”

“Mrs. Taylor thinks we can manage it.” And for some reason that bolsters you more than almost anything else. It just makes you wish that you had someone to dance with. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Invitations, tickets will need to be printed.” She muses. “Perhaps an ad in the paper?”

"We can hand out flyers at the farmer's market," Allison nods, glad to see the infectious excitement go around the table. "It's going to be fantastic. I can feel it."

“Since your theme is the Gilded Age, the ink should be gold leaf.” Mrs. Taylor suggests. “There is a printshop in town that Ms. Brown would use.”

"You should take Max with you and check it out." Candace's suggestion takes you off guard and your eyes must get a little wider because she immediately adds, "You know...because he's business guy. Maybe he can make a deal on pricing or something?"

"Oh! I–uh–that's actually not a bad point." You wouldn't have thought to get him involved in any of this at all, but of course Candance is right. You have no head for business and that's literally all Max does. "I'll ask...see if he has any time to spare."

“Did I hear my name?” As if on an invisible cue, Max appears in the doorway of the dining room. “Ladies, ladies, speak my name and I shall appear.” He flashes everyone a charming grin but he smirks when his eyes fall on you. “Queenie, you are looking radiant, have you been plotting?” He asks playfully before he hides the one side of his mouth facing Mrs. Taylor. “I think you can take her.” He faux whispers loudly and winks at you.

"We were working out the plans for the Samhain Masquerade," you admit, probably the only one in the room who doesn't see the way you light up at Max's little joke. And only because you're too busy hiding a small laugh.

"Join us." Candance could not possibly be grinning any more widely and immediately shuffles her chair to one side to make room next to you for Max to pull up a chair.

Max looks over the food that is on display and grimaces slightly. “I’ll sit, but I couldn’t possibly eat.”

"Have an early lunch at the office?" Eddie guesses, a slight smirk going along with his raised eyebrow. He has a much stronger stomach for human food than Max does and doesn't mind still indulging in a bloodless meal from time to time.

“Lunch with the bosses.” He agrees, patting his stomach over the vest. “So what are you thinking? Aerobatic performers? Jugglers? Fire breathing?” He waggles his brows as he smirks at the table.

"We were talking about a theme." Having him sit next to you makes you suddenly hyper aware of yourself and you take a sip of your drink. "Making it an old fashioned Gilded Age thing with classical versions of modern music, food served overnight, and elaborate masquerade costumes. Even selling tickets and donating the proceeds to charity."

“That sounds fun.” Max chuckles. “Everyone will shit themselves to get exclusive tickets.”

“And we’ll be taking a poll of every guy who buys a ticket to find one good enough for Dolly,” Tracy adds, wondering how Max would react to that idea after seeing the way he had marked you at the Mabon bonfire. They had all seen it, and all understood that you had no idea it was Max. Which only makes the whole thing more fun.

That makes the grin slide off Max's face. Just for a split second before he forces his lips to twist up out of the pout that had taken over before you could notice. He's not going to make you think that he is controlling, not with the way you react to everything. "That's a tall order." He settles for a slight grumble in his voice as he leans back in his seat.

“Newport’s a pretty decent sized town, I bet we can make it happen.” She caught the slight slip in his expression and is fucking delighted by it. None of them have ever seen Max actually care about another being and it has the few of them that talked about it convinced that he must actually be feeling things for you. “We’re going to make sure her dance card is completely full.”

"Good luck." Max snorts, crossing his arms and trying to look smug rather than worried that he might not spend any time with you. It's a feeling he doesn't like. "She's not going to enjoy the stomping of the men who think they can dance because they took lessons when they were twelve and haven't trod a dance floor since."

“Well,” Allison’s head tilts in curiosity and she affects a fully innocent expression as she shrugs her shoulders. She knows you don’t like to be the center of attention but this is developing in an interesting direction. “I suppose it would be different if our girl had a date for that night.”

It feels like Max is being led somewhere and he really doesn't like it. But the idea of you having some faceless date that might try to take advantage of you, or hurt your feelings has Max nearly snarling in anger. Body tensing beside you like he's a guard dog about to attack until he hears your heartbeat speed up beside him, anxiety flooding your scent. "That would be up to Dolly." He manages to keep his tone light, almost cheerful. "She might not want one."

“I don’t know anyone.” Your voice is quiet, not liking the fact that there seems to be an argument brewing over you in any way, shape, or form. The only two men you know here are Max and Eddie, and you would have to be blind not to see Eddie’s interest in Allison. “It—it really doesn’t matter anyway.” You insist. “It’s been a long time since I danced.”

"You should dance." Max frowns as he turns towards you, ignoring Allison the second it sounds like you are contemplating not dancing. This is your party, after all. "Do you want to dance?"

“Well…of course I do.” He knows better than anyone that dancing means everything to you. Having to give it up felt like it would kill you. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s not…I mean…I wouldn’t want anyone to feel like they had to ask me. That’s…not okay.”

He wants to roll his eyes at the stupidity of that statement, but he knows you will get upset. No one has to ask you. "You should go with me." He decides easily. "We are by far the best dancers and it's not like it would be taxing to pick you up." He jokes. "I can tell you who will stomp on your pretty dance shoes and who would be a moderately good dancer, though, not nearly as good as I am."

The entire table seems to hold its breath — half of them expecting the invitation and half taken completely aback by it. It’s not like Max Phillips has ever shown any one of them specific attention before. No. He usually hits on an entire room at once and then zeroes in on the most vulnerable. But you don’t know that side of him. You’ve never seen it. Max might be full of himself but he’s reasonably nice to you these days. He teases more than anything else, and you’re starting to learn his sense of humor. “You don’t have to do that.” You tell him, assuming he’s only asking out of pity. Out of some sense that you’re actually as pathetic as you think you are, which is absurd to everyone but you. “If you…if you want to look for someone else..I can be your backup date.” To you it seems like the best offer in the world. The most sensible and the most likely to alleviate whatever sense of duty he might feel toward you as a housemate. “It’s still weeks away. You never know what can happen.”

Max snorts and shakes his head. "I'm thinking about the competition, babe." He scoffs. "No one could keep up and it's better that the best dancers are paired together, right?" He knows he's cocky, that he's brash and the fear that you don't want to go with him strikes a cord that makes him slightly more bold than usual. "I'd rather have the best, and you're the best."

Unconsciously, your head tilts, surprise tempered with a swipe of confusion. “You’ve never even seen me dance.”

“I have.” Max responds vaguely.

“When?” The incredulous question comes out of your mouth instantly, knowing that you’ve danced maybe twice in the last year and neither time was in this house.

Online. That’s the real answer, but he doesn’t want to weird you out. Your competitions had been filmed. Instead he just shrugs and grins

“Well…” Slightly unsettled, you just shake your head and shift in your seat again. “You don’t have to decide now. I’m sure there’s someone else you’d like to take more, and you should be able to.” It hurts more than you expect, the idea that he would choose someone else over you, but you tell yourself to stop being silly. You’re nothing special. You never have been. And Max is…well, you’re starting to see how truly special he really is.

“No.” Max frowns when he hears the smattering of whispers and giggles but he doesn’t focus on that. Instead he’s looking at you. “We’re going together. Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“I want to.” It’s almost too hurried. Too enthusiastic. But once it’s out of your mouth there’s no going back.

“Then it’s settled.” Eddie says quickly. “Dolly and Max are the first couple for the masquerade.”

“Perfect.” Allison practically holds up her glass in salute. “If you wanted to, I bet we could make some pretty killer king and queen costumes out of whatever clothes Mrs. Taylor finds upstairs,” She suggests instead, having noted that Max seems to be the only one who calls you Queenie.

Max doesn't seem to get the reasoning behind that and hums thoughtfully. "If she likes it. I am easy to dress." He winks playfully. "Killer abs and all that."

“I—I really don’t need to be a queen.” You protest right away, feeling like that would be way too much look at me for one night. You’ve spent so long trying desperately to fly under the radar that you doubt you would even know how to stand out anymore. You’d end up looking like a little girl playing dress up and embarrass Max. And you definitely wouldn’t want to do that. “We’ll figure out costumes along the way.”

Max raises his brow and nods, sensing that you are not comfortable with the idea. Throwing his arm around the back of your chair, he leans in. "Just as long as we can dance, right sweetheart?" His tone is low, just meant for you.

“Right.” Just as instantly as you had become uncomfortable, that one thought soothes you, and in your gratitude you end up looking Max directly in the eyes for maybe the first time ever — there are entire worlds in his deep brown eyes and somehow this is the time you’re discovering it. At the table eating lunch with a dozen other people. “As long as we can dance,” you murmur in agreement.

******

He had spent the afternoon taking care of legitimate business. Things that he had to take care of instead of spending the rest of the day with the coven of witches like he had surprisingly wanted to do. He doesn't mind the witches, having nothing against them and finding them pretty entertaining, but he had really wanted to see you more relaxed, to see the smiles that have become more common now that you have settled in and finding your place.

The ballroom seems to call your name tonight, and you aren’t sure why. Or at least you would never admit to the reason. To say that you’ve been stuck on the thought of dancing with Max all day would feel utterly silly. To admit that you perked up at the mere mention of him while having dinner out with some of the girls from the coven makes you feel like a silly teenager. It isn’t worth it. He’s just being nice, and the last time that a guy was nice to you, you ended up in a decade-long abusive relationship with him. You’re just…you’re not the kind of person who can be in a relationship. Period. So you shouldn’t be daydreaming about it, either. Especially not mere weeks after being kicked out of Derek’s house. But you know damn well that you were emotionally done with that relationship well before the door ever closed behind you.

The thing about vampires is that they are blessed, or cursed with a keen sense of hearing. You would be mortified to know that every vampire in the house could hear you fart in your sleep. Most of them had trained themselves to block out the sounds of human prowling around again. Max couldn't, or maybe wouldn't, would be a better word. Drawn to the quiet strands of "The Blue Danube". Quickly and silently making his way to the ballroom, and to you.

You shouldn’t do it. You know you shouldn’t. Anybody could just walk in, and it’s not as though you are the type of person to show off. Or that you even could show off at this point. But you just can’t resist. The thought of dancing with someone — Max — has been in your head all day and you turn on some music on your phone to take some basic waltz steps around the ballroom all on your own.

He approaches quietly. His ears filling with the strands of the music, making his fingers twitch with the urge to join you when he sees you waltzing around the large, polished dance floor. You are grace itself, floating on air and seemingly carefree as your eyes close and the small smile on your face brightens into full joy.

A few turns around the floor with your eyes closed are all it takes to find your feet and your frame again, and in mere seconds it’s like you’re back in your first rehearsal room with your first real freedom after learning to dance. It’s a return to the easiest and most natural feeling in the world. And then, without even realizing anyone was nearby, someone steps into your frame and sweeps you up in the dance.

"Seamless." Max chuckles quietly as he enjoys the look of shock on your face. Starting to lead you through the steps as the music swells. "I knew that you would be flawless."

“Max…” Pure surprise has his name coming out in a breath of disbelief, but you don’t stop moving. He’s completely right. It was seamless. “I—I didn’t hear you come in.”

"I didn't want you to hear me." He chuckles quietly. "You were caught up in the music." His grin is wide and warm as he continues to lead you through the dance.

“It’s…been a long time.” For all your protests, you never miss a step or fail to follow a lead. Maybe your frame isn’t competition ready anymore, but Max’s hold isn’t demanding it.

"It doesn't feel like it." Max counters, moving you into a dip and smirking when you gasp before he pulls you upright again.

Ballroom dancers will tell you that when you find your perfect partner, it’s obvious. Steps feel surer and your hold feels truer. The rhythm of movement feels more natural. It’s something you had thought wistfully of someday long in the future, sort of the way you thought about your soulmate. Someday my prince will come, that sort of thing. You’re just shocked to be feeling that feeling in your gut when Max pulls you up from the dip. Like your heart has skipped a beat, but that only happens in movies and fairy tales. “I think it’s all down to a strong lead,” you manage, heaping the credit on him where you feel it’s due.

“Not from what I’ve seen.” Max tuts, backing you through the next few steps and leaning in before he pulls you back in the opposite directly. “You carried your partners before. It takes talent to lead and yet make it appear that they are leading.”

“Never managed to find my perfect partner,” you mumble, unable to shake the monumental feeling that yes you have but it’s only just now. “How have you seen me dance, Max?”

“YouTube.” He shoots you a grin, shameless now that he has danced with you. “Your competitions were beautiful and it’s amazing what you will find online now, if you know where to look.”

“I guess so.” It’s not something you ever would have thought to look into, but when you give it even a little thought it makes perfect sense. “Those were…the good days,” you admit. “The best days. Giving it up felt like it might kill me.”

“Why did you stop?” That has him extremely curious because he has seen how talented you are. Even now, every step you take is more poised and confident than the last. Dancing is so naturally in your blood that you are holding a conversation while doing it.

“Gotta grow up sometime, right?” It’s a bullshit excuse. You know it is. But what else can you say? The expression on his face says he doesn’t buy that excuse for a second and you sigh while he turns you both around the room. “My boyfriend wanted me to get a full time job,” you explain quietly. “Being home to take care of the house and make dinner every night meant there was no time for competitions or classes anymore. He— he wanted me at home.”

Max frowns, finding that to be a bunch of sexist bullshit. As much as he might have joked about having the little lady barefoot in the kitchen, normally that meant getting a snack before he fucked her silly and fed from her again. “Well, he’s an asshole.” He snorts, firming his grip on your waist. “You don’t make someone you love give up what they love.”

“It was…a bad decision all around.” As the song comes to an end, another one will begin right afterward, you just don’t know what it will be. The playlist you chose was just marked Classics. “It’s a long story. Not something you need to worry about.”

The urge to compel you is nearly overwhelming, but Max resists. Instead of commanding that you tell him, he just watches you. Letting his silence do the talking for him.

“I thought he was going to rescue me.” It comes tumbling out of your mouth when his eyes fix on yours, and you’re sure that it’s just your imagination that says he wants to know everything. “I had gotten stood up on a blind date and he—my ex— he came up to me at the bar and dried my tears and took me home…and I really thought that he was going to teach me how to grow up. But it’s obvious now how naive that is to believe.”

“Did he hurt you?” Max’s voice is soft, not wanting to scare you, even if he can’t help the darkness in his eyes. The anger that leaps to life at the thought of someone hurting someone as gentle as you are.

“I—” Yes. He did. He broke down who you were as a person and tried to reconstruct you into an automaton who would do only his bidding. And he almost succeeded. “It doesn’t matter now.” The tears that spring up in your eyes are unavoidable, and your feet stop moving with the heaviness that settles on your shoulders. “He got sick of me and kicked me out and then I came here. It’s done.”

A bad dance partner would have stepped on your feet, not able to avoid continuing despite the fact that you had stopped suddenly. Max doesn’t. He sweeps you into a hug that is encompassing. “He was a fool and you are safe here.” Max had wondered why he had wanted you here, now he wonders why he had not brought you here sooner.

It’s such an unexpected gesture, for his arms to lock tight around you, and you really almost break down sobbing right there in his arms in the middle of the ballroom. You find, though, that that isn’t the message that you want to convey to him — or at least it’s not how you want to convey the message. Your gratitude is boundless, but it boils down to just one thing. “I believe you.” Is what you murmur instead, burying your face in his chest as he holds you to him.

He stands off to the side. In a corner where it’s almost impossible to see him. Slippery as the shadows on the walls and twice as deceptive. Strong, white teeth flash in a smug smile. It was working.

The most overwhelming and surprising — well, maybe not most surprising, but it certainly surprises you at first — urge you have in your whole body is to kiss him. He’s never made a single serious motion in the way of wanting you, or being interested in you. He’s never done anything but be polite. But you’re so close to him now that you feel like closer is the only way to be and stepping apart even a little would be agony.

“Queenie…” Out of the corner of his eye, Max sees something. Head whipping up only to find a wall sconce. He had sworn he had just seen a flash of movement.

“I—I’m sorry.” He must have known what you were thinking somehow. Or you must have leaned in without realizing it. Stared at his lips accidentally. Something. But he doesn’t let you out of his arms when you start to pull away self-consciously.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Max looks back at you again. “I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone.”

“I thought…” you look to the doorway too, but there’s no one there. Not even a hint of Renee and her duster. “Thought…nevermind.”

“Thought what?” Max prompts softly, wanting to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours. Dying of curiosity to know what you think of him.

“That you didn’t…” Your cheeks are burning hot on fire and your heartbeat is somewhere in the proximity of your eardrums rather than your chest, but you shake your head. “I thought you could tell what I was thinking. That’s why I apologized,” you admit finally, when his eyes don’t leave you for an instant.

“I could.” Max doesn’t know what you were thinking, but he’ll figure it out. “I just got distracted.”

“It doesn’t…” It doesn’t matter. It was a thought you’ve had far too many times since sitting and watching tv with him last week and he just doesn’t need to know that you’ve started dreaming about him. That’s…that’s far too much. “It’s nothing. I’m sorry.” You apologize again. If he really could tell what you were thinking then you can only assume how either disgusted or exasperated he is. But for some reason the knowledge that Max Phillips couldn’t possibly want you makes you crack apart like you’re leaving the dance studio all over again.

Max frowns slightly, not approving of the way that your eyes shutter, your shoulders seem to curl around in an effort to protect yourself. It's as bad as if you had flinched away from him, fearing that you would be hit. He slides his hand up your side and cups your cheek. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Queenie." He wants to kiss you, a feeling that he normally would act on, but he doesn't want to scare you. "When the moment is perfect." He decides, murmuring it out loud.

It’s not a rejection but it’s also not a full acceptance, and for some reason the unexpected space between the two things leaves you feeling like you’re in some sort of emotional limbo where all you can do is nod against his hand and try not to look too wistful at the gesture itself. It’s just wishful thinking that has you feeling like you never want him to let you go. At least, that’s what you’re going to keep telling yourself.

There’s a pregnant pause, a feeling in the air that makes Max lean in. Feeling that the moment is now. That he needs to get this urge to kiss you out of his system. Watching you to see if you pull away or panic fills your eyes when the front door opens. Startling him because he had been so entranced by you, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching.

Jumping away from him like a frightened children’s film or cartoon character, your whole face and body are on fire for so many different reasons but you bury your face in both hands and stammer out another vague apology before looking to the stairwell with frozen fear. “Eddie!” His name is a squeak in your voice and nothing more.

Eddie is there in an instant, obviously worried that Max had done something from the look the other vampire shoots him. Making Max narrow his eyes and huff at the assumption. The song fades and the silence in the ballroom settles awkwardly. “Dolly?” Eddie reaches for you. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He has awful timing, that’s all. But you’re not even sure that Max was going to kiss you. You could have been imagining it. “I—I think I’m going to grab a book from the library and turn in. Good night.” You announce, snatching up your phone and hightailing it to the library as fast as your legs will carry you.

Max huffs at Eddie. “Thanks asshole.” He grunts, rushing off towards the balcony doors that lead out to the gardens.

“What?” Eddie shrugs in complete confusion as you and Max both flee from the room.

******

Heading through the marble hall and into the library, you scoop the first edition copy of Rudyard Kipling’s Rewards and Fairies off the shelf where you left it that morning. It will make for good bedtime reading now that you’ve gone through both books you were reading previously. Quick as a mouse and just as quiet, you rush upstairs to your room with every intention of just locking yourself inside for the night. But there, sitting and chirping on your windowsill, is your little bat friend.

As soon as he had cleared the doors, Max had transformed. Not wanting you to run away from him, but he’s also found that you find comfort in his bat form. It’s interesting considering most are afraid of bats, but you pet him, snuggle him, and talk to him. He flaps his wings impatiently, telling you to open the window to let him in.

“Hey, Cutie.” It’s such a relief to see this little friendly face that what you once just called the bat as a descriptor has now become his name. Cutie is now featured in any number of bat things around your room, like little sketches tucked into the corners of your vanity mirror and the embroidered pillow that you brought home early on. You go to the window to let him in knowing that he will hop right into your hand, and leave one window cracked for him to leave by when he eventually wants to. It’s chilly, but you’re not going to trap the little guy inside the house. That would be cruel. “Were you waiting for me?” You croon, sniffing back tears of anxiety and instead focusing on petting his little head to soothe yourself.

Max chirps, acknowledging that he had been waiting for you, just not as long as you might think. He nuzzles into your hand for a moment before he shoots out of your hand, crawling up your arm and chest to curl into your neck.

“Awwe, I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Cutie.” The feeling of being hugged is as real and undeniable as being hugged by Max just a minute ago and you sniffle again before continuing to scratch the bat’s head. “Please don’t be upset with me…” Though how the little animal could show it, you don’t know. This bat is more expressive than any other creature you’ve ever known. “I…got caught up dancing. Haven’t done that in a long time.” A soft sigh escapes you and you peak down at the bat’s expression of curiosity. “Lemme put on my pajamas and I’ll read to you, okay? You seem to like that.”

Max wants to watch you undress, but even he isn’t that unethical. So he flutters off your shoulder to the chair where you sit every night he comes, reading to him. Landing on the arm rest and fluttering his wings as he folds them up, chattering at you.

It isn’t so much changing as just stripping down a few layers to your tank top, and you replace your jeans with flannel pj pants. You come out of your dressing room far more relaxed and pick up the Kipling from the side table before coming over to the chaise. “You want your nest, Cutie?” Sometimes he likes to curl up in your lap and sometimes he likes to be snuggled against you, but either way you plop down on the chaise and grab your ballet slipper throw blanket to tuck around you.

Max waits until the blanket is on your lap, hopping right into it and looking up at you. He knows you have a soft spot for this version of him, so he plays it up, cooing at you.

“Here we go.” Fixing the blanket so it’s slung over one of your shoulders gives him a cozy place to settle near your collarbone, and you could swear that the little bay must like the vibration of your voice or something because he loves to perch there. “I got us some Kipling tonight,” you tell him, feeling more relaxed by the second. “A little something different than the gothic novels I’ve been reading you.”

Max chirps again, surprised that you are in your pajamas. It’s the most amount of skin that he has ever seen on you. He decides that he will make a lap around you, get the full effect of your comfortable clothing.

“Is that an excited chirp or a chirp of protest?” Either way it makes you laugh. Just a quiet, half-huffed sound, and you open the book in your lap while Cutie takes off around your chair. He seems excitable tonight and maybe you need that. A little positive energy before bed.

You’re beautiful. He’s popping the equivalent of a bat boner from the innocent scene, unsure why you are so irresistible to him. You’re pretty and kind, but so are other women who don’t affect him as badly. Max takes another lap and damn near falls out of the sky when he sees it. Discolored skin, in an unusual grouping. A birthmark. Screeching wildly, Max dive bombs your arm to make sure he’s not seeing things. But it’s there. The matching mark that has been the only blemish on his skin since he had been brought back by his sire. You’re his fucking soulmate.

“You okay, Cutie?” He’s never lost his balance in the air like that and suddenly you’re worried there’s something wrong with the little bat’s wing. Twisting around and scooping him out of the air, you take a careful look at both appendages and don’t see anything wrong.

Those big eyes bug out even more and he squawks as if you could hear him. Soulmate. You. You’re his soulmate. There’s zero doubt in his mind that he knew that. And the fact that he kept it from Max infuriates him. But it also explains why Max was kept here. How long had he known? All of these things run through Max’s mind as he flaps his way out of your hold and immediately crawls his way up your arm to stare at your birthmark again.

"Alright, alright, if you want to hang out back there, you go right ahead." It's a weird choice, but you're the one talking to a fucking bat so who are you to judge? You just let the little guy curl up behind your shoulder and open your book to start reading. The ritual is something that you've started to find immensely soothing so you're going to appreciate every second of it tonight, while thoughts of Max still race through your head. Unshakeable and unwavering.

Just to make sure he’s not insane and it’s not some makeup covering some tattoo or whatever, his little bat tongue comes out to lick at your skin.

"What are you doing?" You twist to look at the bat over your shoulder quizzically. "Not like you can answer me, can you? It's just a birthmark, Cutie. Nothing to be confused about."

Max looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue swipe your skin again. Convinced it’s not makeup causing the discoloration.

“What is up with you, huh?” The book goes down to your lap again and you frown a little at the winged ‘pet’. He’s never licked you or anything before. Just nuzzles and chirps or squeaks while he cuddles into you. This is all new.

Max pulls his tongue back into his mouth and climbs up your shoulder, nuzzling your cheek and chirping again. Unable to vocalize the issue, but he doesn’t want you to shoo him off.

"How about I just cover up, then." He climbs back up on your shoulder and you pull the blanket around you, covering the little star-shaped set of marks on your skin that make up your birthmark. It must confuse his little bat mind or something. That's the only explanation you can come up with. "It's just some marks on my skin, that's all." You explain, rather uselessly. After all, what does the bat care? "My skin and no one else's. I used to have tattoos, too. But...well, the person that gave them to me is gone now. So I don't have them anymore."

Max flaps his wings, squawking indignantly. He’s right here. He wonders why he wasn’t allowed to have his tattoo put back. Some kind of punishment?

“You wanna be my soulmate?” Bats don’t have soulmates. Not that you’re aware of. Just humans, some species of monkeys, and some people think that dogs and cats do but that’s just wishful thinking. But then, what is this if not wishful thinking? Talking to a bat is as wishful as it gets. “Okay, Cutie. You can be my new soulmate. Since you’re a little bit spooky and like being read to, I think it’s perfect.”

If he could preen, Bat Max would. Your words soothes him instantly and he cuddles against your pulse, cooing and almost purring happily. You accept his bat form, and that’s half the battle in his mind.

"Yeah?" You giggle softly, glad for the now familiar feeling of the small winged creature cuddling against your chest. "Is that all you wanted? Just my never ending love and devotion?" This laugh is slightly more hollow, and you pet his little head with two fingers as you pick your book up again. "Somebody might as well have it. I don't think I trust myself to actually give it to a human anymore."

Max blows out a breath, actually needing to breath as a bat, funnily enough. He hates the idea that you are so hurt that you wouldn’t trust and love again. You’re too sweet to put yourself on a shelf.

"Just you and me, Cutie." You murmur softly. "That's all I need." Maybe. Just maybe. If you say it enough, it will be true one day. Unfortunately for your heart, though, it's already given itself away. And denying it won't do a single ounce of good.

Max listens to the sadness in your voice, still freaking out because you’re his soulmate and he can’t tell you. How would he explain himself? You aren’t to know that the residents of this house are vampires. On his orders. How would he explain that he has no marks? They disappeared four years ago when he was staked through the heart and turned into a blood splatter on the wall. The only reason he’s here now is because his sire, somehow your relative, took pity on him.

Reading is calming and before long you're yawning between paragraphs and curling deeper into your blanket. When you're on the verge of drifting off you stifle another long yawn and rub two fingers along your little bat friend's head. "I'm glad you came to say hello tonight," you tell the little creature, right before your eyes shut.

Max chirps softly, listening to your heartbeat slow down. Waiting until you are asleep before he moves. Changing back to a human form and watching you. Staring at you in awe, not hearing someone else approach.

He watches as his protégé stares at you. A smile curving his lips and exposing the pointed fangs. He senses the turbulent emotions in the younger man, able to sense what he is feeling since he created him. Linked in an inextricable way. He had hoped to visit you tonight, but he sinks back into the shadows with glee. You are already entertaining it seems.

******

Deciding that it is time for a conversation - not the one Max will want, but the one he will get for now – he disappears back downstairs and settles himself in the kitchen, knowing that Max has a tendency to go for a 'midnight snack' glass of blood before turning in for the night. Sleep is not necessary the way it is for humans, but rest helps to keep vampires strong. And Max is using quite a bit of stamina every night to transform in and out of bat form.

Max whistles as he comes in the kitchen, trying to put on an air of nonchalance as he grapples with the very real knowledge that his soulmate has been discovered. He had watched you for far too long, unable to move until you had shivered in your sleep. Picking you up and carrying you over to your bed as if you were no heavier than a feather, Max had tucked you into bed again. Closing the window like he had before and slipping out of the door to come down to the kitchen. Every step he had been taking away from you being one he was forcing himself to make.

His tendency toward dramatics is well documented, especially by those closest to him, so for him to be lounging in the pitch black kitchen when Max comes in and flicks on the light out of deeply ingrained habit? Well, it should surprise no one. The skies outside have torn open and the midnight rain is torrential, making the scene all the more delightfully gothic as rain pelts the kitchen windows across the room.

“Fucking shit.” Max isn’t afraid of much, but the sight of him appearing has the younger vampire jumping slightly, his dead heart nearly leaping to life in his chest. Relaxing slightly before he remembers. “Why are you here?”

“Business.” He answers, languidly rolling the word over in his tongue and drawing out the hissing sound of the last syllable. “Amongst other reasons.” There are already two glasses of blood poured and he gestures to the other side of the kitchen table for Max to join him.

Max snorts and rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t refuse the invitation from his maker. “And does ‘other reasons’ include the human upstairs?”

“She seems to be settling in.” While it’s an observation instead of an actual answer, the older vampire shrugs one shoulder gracefully.

Frustrating, that is what the old man is. Hissing slightly, Max remembers that he also enjoys getting a rise out of people, so he leans back and picks up the glass of blood. “New pet?” He asks.

While he won’t give Max the satisfaction of a sharp reaction, he does set his glass down and let his eyes sweep over the younger vampire appraisingly. “As I understand it, she is the one keeping a pet. Not me.” He’s seen it with his own eyes. And while it’s unexpectedly charming, it certainly does represent a communication issue. “Or is ‘Cutie’ a different resident bat that I’ve not met before?”

It’s only because of the fresh blood that max has ingested that allows the flush to rise up under his skin. “She doesn’t know it’s any different from a regular bat.” He defends himself. How he knows about that, Max doesn’t know, but he always seems to know things he shouldn’t. As far as he knows, no one else in the house knows about his nearly nightly routine.

“She will eventually.” There’s spice in this blood. Something warm and tingling. Mrs. Taylor always somehow manages to provide the best of the best for him and he’s grateful to have had her for the last several hundred years. “One day she’ll know everything.”

“How long have you known?” That is the question that is burning under his skin. He doesn’t elaborate, knowing the elder understands what he is referring to.

“That she exists?” He is evasive by nature. Always has been. And he waves off the question with ease. “Her whole life.”

Max rolls his eyes again, obviously he should have been more specific. “That I am her soulmate?” He clarifies tightly.

“Oh?” One eyebrow quirks up in interest and he takes another sip of blood. “If that were true it would be a most interesting state of being. For you, of course. Entirely inconsequential to others.”

Max frowns, staring at the man who had changed him in college. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“That I firmly doubt the soulmate status of one infant vampire will matter much to the general population of mortals in the world.” The immortals, he knows, will take a great interest. They did the last time a vampire and witch were soulmates and they will take an even greater interest this time.

Max takes a sip of his blood. “Stimulating conversation, as always.”

Amused, his sire almost smiles but just the ghost of the expression makes it to his lips. “Ask the correct question and I will gladly answer.”

It’s always a game with him. “What is she to you?” Max demands, leaning forward and his eyes are darker than they should be, directed at his sire.

It isn’t the right question, but it is an important one. One that he isn’t quite ready to answer in full, but he swallows and lets his eyes close for a brief moment. “Now that Cookie is gone, she is everything to me.” It is an honest answer, if not a whole one. And certainly more than he would have given Max at any other time.

Max sighs, aware that he’s not going to get the answers he wants from the older vampire. “What’s the correct question, then?” He huffs. “Since you want to play your little games.”

“What is it you truly want to know, Maxwell?” He tilts his head in curiosity, wondering what the most important question is to his protégé’s beatless heart. The correct question is the one that matters the most — Max has not learned that lesson quite yet.

Max growls, increasingly frustrated and sure he’s not going to get an answer to his question. His maker is some kind of mood and it is impossible when he is like this. “Is she the reason I’m here?” He asks.

“Yes.” Although the question might give Max complicated feelings, his sire’s answer is simple. There is no other possible answer, in fact. “She is the reason for much.”

“Fuck.” Max is aware that the program that he was selected for was very high stakes, pun intended. Most humans were eaten. “Is she-“ he stops, wondering if he really wants to know this. “Is my connection with her the reason I was changed?”

“Partially.” After another sip of blood, his sire chuckles at the purses frown on Max’s face. “You were always going to graduate the program, Maxwell. But she is the reason that I am your sire and not a lesser vampire.”

“Because she’s somehow related to your soulmate?” He still doesn’t know the relation, but that’s because he’s never cared to ask. Not that Mrs. Taylor would spill if he didn’t wish for Max to know.

“Now you’re getting it.” The intention was never to keep the entire truth from Max. Never. But to tell him before telling you? He may be unscrupulous, but he is not uncaring.

“Why does one distant relative matter so much?” Max asks, frowning again. Since his own family turned their back on him, he’s hardened himself against that sort of connection.

“Have you ever known me to be careless in my decisions?” The honest question is not meant to be a trick, but it is meant to make Max think. “Have I not kept my family as close as I am able? And the families of those I have sired?” It may also be ever so slightly evasive, but he will not apologize for that just yet.

One thing Max can say for sure is that he is not careless. But it brings up another question. “Then why have you not brought her here sooner?” He huffs. “She’s been abused, that much is obvious.”

Shame is not a thing most creatures like to feel, and he likes it even less than most. But unfortunately shame is what he must endure, and for once he lets his protégé see the emotion in his face when he finds the younger man’s eyes. “I tried everything in my power to find her before now, but I was prevented. Kept from her. And I will never let such a thing happen again. Not for all the days I roam the endless earth. It is our duty now, to protect her. Yours and mine.”

Max bites his lip and nods. “I don’t know what she thinks of me.” He admits. “She’s more comfortable around the bat than the man. It’s- I’m drawn to her, now I know why.”

“She seemed quite fond of dancing with you.” Which is no small thing, and brings a smile unburdened to his lips. The fluffy pink tutu, tights, and shoes he had bought for an eager four-year-old spring to mind immediately. “Perhaps she ought to be trusted with the truth. That the bat and the man are one.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “And how should I do that?” He asks jokingly. “Just transform in front of her? She doesn’t believe vampires are real.”

A sigh overtakes him. Weary and far more emotional than he would normally let on, but your disbelief at the existence of vampires hurts more than he can possibly say. “She knows, in her soul. In her heart. But her mind has been bound from believing it.”

Max frowns slightly and rubs his tongue over his teeth. “It sounds like you believe she was supposed to be raised in this world.”

“Because she was.” A flash of anger in his eyes has to be tamped down before he says more than he should, but the point is firm. “She was born to it. She belongs here.”

“Okaaaaaay.” Max’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the passionate answer. Sometimes it seemed like Cookie was the only thing the older vampire cared about. Obviously you are just as important, though the connection is still vague. “It’s not like she’s your daughter or something.”

His sire huffs, burying anger and sadness back under mystery where they belong, and shakes his head. “A witch and a vampire having a child? What a fantastical thought.” His tone has turned droll under the guise of heaviness. “That would be the stuff of Legend if it were true.”

Max snorts and sends him a small smirk. “As if you aren’t already a legend.”

“Am I?” That flash of mystery and amusement graces his features and Max’s sire sits back in his chair. “I had nearly forgotten.”

It’s not like he had bragged about it. Max had to learn of his sire’s exploits through the rumor mill that seems to power a college. Even a vamp one. He wasn’t one to boast or rest on his laurels apparently. Max hadn’t known how great the honor of him being his sire was until he was nearly graduated. And just now, he’s learning the reason why he had turned him. “Aren’t you?” Max asks, taking another sip of the warm blood. “Maybe not.”

“If you want to bait someone, Maxwell, go find Eddie and tell him flannel has gone out of fashion.” He chuckles at his own joke, taking the last sip of blood from his goblet. “Understand fully, though, before you leave me tonight. That Dolly is of the utmost importance. She is the only priority that matters.”

The weight of his words settle on Max and he bites his lip before he voices the concern. “Should I- would you prefer that I leave her alone?” He asks, unsure of why he would be giving such an obvious warning.

“If that was my wish, you would never have known she existed.” His sire tells him honestly. “You would not have be among those I deemed worthy of eternal life, and you certainly would not have been brought back after that stunt four years ago.” He shakes his head, wishing now for wine more than blood. Something to temper the emotional rollercoaster he has been on since you were finally located weeks ago. “You have been brought here for her, Maxwell. Endeavor to be worthy of that honour.”

“I don’t think she wants romantic entanglements.” Max admits. “She’s - skittish and I’m….” He trails off and shrugs. With his sire, it’s a lot easier to admit shortcomings. “Not.”

“But it is what you want?” Knowing Max as he does, it takes a great deal of willpower for his sire not to play on Max’s usual cocky side. This is too important for that anyway.

“I-“ Max stops, unsure of how to answer that. He wants you, but he also knows that you aren’t ready for something like that. It’s why he had spent so much time as the bat lately. “For her to be happy.” He decides. How that happiness looks is up to you. He’s already been selfish and he’s paid too high a price to chance it again.

“Good.” There may not have technically been a correct question to ask earlier, but there was certainly a correct answer to this one, and Max has hit on it. “You will tell her the truth soon. She’s made of stronger stuff than whatever she’s been through.”

It sounds like an order, but Max nods. “I hope you are right.” He tells the vampire who had turned him into what he is now. “Otherwise, we ruin the only safe place she has.”

“It is all the stronger for having us in it.” He reminds the younger vampire. “In the meantime, not a word to Eddie or anyone else. Only Mrs. Taylor knows I’ve arrived.”

His brow lifts again, but he doesn’t say a word about it. “Then back to the tower with you.”

______

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My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips x f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate sunday #crossover fic #tw past abuse

[beebeetheclown]

Hey! I have an imagine request for domonic from banshees

Hi thank you for this request💕

I was obsessed with Barry’s character in this film and am happy to write about him for you though I don’t write many imagines but I hope I did this right and you enjoy it🥰

Dominic Kearney Imagine

Dominic Kearney x reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Living alone had its pros and cons. You liked the quiet and it was just easier in general to live alone, but if you ever planned to go out for a long period of time, you always had to find someone to look over the house and take care of the three cows you had. You didn’t trust a lot of the people around you, you worried that they’d steal something when you were away or that they would do a poor job of looking after the cows. Dominic was the only one you really seemed to trust.

He didn’t live far from you, so you thought it wouldn’t be that much of a bother to make him be the one to guard the house and cows while you were away. He was always happy to do it as it always gave him something to do; he grew bored quite often.

As the two of you got to know each other more, he would sometimes stop by your house without telling you that he was coming over. He’d knock on the door and he would have a smile on his face every time you would open it for him.

“I hope I’m not being a bother to you.” He would say. You’d let him come into the house as he would keep you company wherever you felt lonely. Sometimes, you would let him stay for dinner or while you did house work. He talked a lot, sometimes he talked so much that he would just ramble on and on and you wouldn’t even really pay attention, you’d just nod your head and act like you were listening to him.

One time, he came out to help you with the cows. He pet them and helped you feed them. He helped you name the three cows, calling them Ferguson, Penelope, and Leonard. As he was petting Ferguson a thought came up and he shared it without thinking, it was a thing he always did, he would share his thoughts out loud without thinking first,

“Have you ever thought about having one of these guys for dinner? Ferguson looks like he'd make a good burger.”

“Dominic! Bloody hell, not ever have I thought like that.”

“Right, sorry, sorry. It was just a thought I had I guess. What’s for dinner anyways?”

“I don’t know, ask your father.”

“Can’t I just stay here? I’m sure you’re cooking up something better than my daddy.”

“Dominic, you have been staying for dinner for the past three days, I think it’s time you go back to your own place for dinner.”

He scratched the back of his head, “Yeah, okay, I guess you’re right. My daddy will probably like me to eat with him anyways. He always gets bored easily that one.” He took his hand off Ferguson and began to walk towards the gate, “Well, if you’re not having me for dinner, I guess I should be heading off then.”

“Okay, good bye Dominic.”

“Goodbye, do you think I could come by tomorrow?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have quite a lot to do.”

“I could always help you out.”

“We’ll see okay? Now you get back home.”

He nodded his head a little, “Alright, I’ll get back home, Goodbye again.”

“Goodbye.”

He began to walk back home now and you watched him leave. The truth was that you didn’t think you could bear to have another meal with him, he talked so much even when he had taken bites of his food. Dominic always had so much to say. You needed to eat dinner in silence for once. You did like Dominic, but he was just a bit much at times.

On that same day, he came back to see you just as you were cleaning up the dishes. He knocked on the door four times before he began to call your name then he knocked on the door again. He kept hollering and knocking until you had opened the door. It was a little dark out now as the sun had set, but you could still see the scars on his face. The scars were not there earlier that day.

“Dominic, what’s happened to your face?”

“My daddy didn’t really like me sayin’ that I didn’t like his cooking. I guess it made him a little angry.” He said with an awkward little giggle. “I know I wasn’t supposed to come here but I didn’t want to stay with him.”

“Come in, come in. Let me fix you up.” You put a hand on his shoulder and allowed him to step inside your small home, “Sit right at the table, I’ll clean you up.”

With your hand still on his shoulder, you guided him over to the table and pulled a chair out for him and he sat. You went to the sink and got a clean washcloth and ran it under the water before walking over to him. You sat right next to him at the table and faced him. You brought the cloth to his face and lightly dabbed where his scars were, wiping away the blood. His blue eyes watched yours the whole time you cleaned up his scars.

“I hope I’m not being a bother to you.” He said quietly, “I guess I just didn’t really know where else to go.”

“No, not at all, don’t worry about it. I am always here to help you Dominic.”

“But why?”

You lower the cloth down into your lap and smile at him, “You help me with things like taking care of my cows and looking after the house when I’m gone.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You could tell he had something else t say but for once, he was hesitant.

“What is it?”

“What is what?”

“What is on your mind?”

“A lot of things.” He replied with a little grin, “Which would you like to know first.”

“You were hesitant about something, I could tell, what were you being so hesitant about.”

He inhaled, then let a sigh leave him, “I don’t know, you probably won’t like the idea very much.”

“Just tell me anyway.” You brought your thumb to brush over the scar that was on his cheek just below his eye.

It got quiet for a moment, “Do you think maybe I could, I don’t know, stay here for the night? My daddy is probably still angry with me for runnin’ out of the house, or he’s probably wanging himself to sleep.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little at the last part, Dominic wasn’t very good at keeping private information to himself.

“Oh, I don’t know-”

“I can sleep right on that couch there, I won’t be a bother to you. I promise I don’t snore, at least I don’t think I do.”

You weren’t sure if you liked the idea of him spending the night, but you also didn’t want to force him to go back home, “Alright, but just for this one night and then you go back home.”

He got excited, “Really? No one’s ever let me have a sleepover before you know? Thank you!” He leaned over and gave you a hug. You were taken back by the hug at first but them hugged him back,

“Yes, you’re welcome, but just for this one night.”

“Just for this one night.” He repeated.

He got up when the hug ended and walked over to the small couch. He immediately lied down as soon as he got on it, “It is not as comfortable as I thought.”

“Well, would you rather sleep with the smelly old cows?”

“No, no. Don’t make me sleep with the cows. Here is just fine.” He sat up again, “It would be nice to have a blanket though.”

“This is no motel you know? I am not your servant.” You teased, “But I’ll get you some blankets, I won’t make you sleep cold.” You went to get him some extra blankets you had in your bedroom and when you brought them out to him, you sat down next to him, “I don’t have many extras, I hope this is enough.”

“I think it will be enough for me, thank you. I didn’t make you take blankets off of your bed did I?”

“No, I’ve got my own, you’re alright.” He fidgeted with his sleeves then looked at you deeply without saying anything, “What is it now?” You asked softly.

The next thing he did took you by surprise as you weren’t expecting it at all. He leaned in and kissed your lips. It was a very quick kiss; it was the type of kiss little elementary school children would give each other. You looked at him blankly, not knowing what to do or say.

“I’m sorry,” He said, “I’m sorry, that was silly of me wasn’t it?” He looked down at his lap then laughed a little, “I guess I’ve made a mistake haven’t I?”

You felt a little bad for him as you could tell he was embarrassed by his actions, “No, it’s okay. Don’t, uh, don’t worry about it.” The room got quiet for a moment, “I think I’ll be off to bed now.” You said.

“But it isn’t even late yet.”

You couldn’t help by lie to him, you felt a little awkward, “Yes, but I guess I’m just feeling very tired.”

“Oh, okay.” He replied, sounding a little disappointed, “Goodnight then I guess.”

“Goodnight Dominic.” You stood from the couch and when you made it a couple feet away from him he spoke again, “I didn’t make you dislike me did I?”

You turned to face him, “No, of course not Dominc. I’m fine, really. Just try and sleep now, okay?”

He nodded his head, “Okay, I will sleep now.”

When you made it back to your room, you stayed lying wide awake in your bed. You didn’t know how you felt about Dominic kissing you. You never thought of him that way, then again, you didn’t dislike feeling his lips on your lips.

Maybe you liked the kiss because you felt sorry for poor little Dominic, maybe you liked it out of sorrowness. Or maybe, you liked the kiss because you actually enjoyed it.

…

#barry keoghan #the banshees of inisherin #dominic kearney #dominic kearney x reader #barry keoghan x reader

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (9)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 5.5K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, suggestive themes, smut

Notes: Thank you to everyone who continues to like, comment, and reblog! They are so unbelievably appreciated.

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

---------

You find out a few days after your hospital trip that an article you wrote before his accident is being nominated for an award. He doesn’t care if he didn’t understand a word of what it said or recognize any of the names cited in it; he’s so damn proud of you. 

He tells you that you should celebrate. Go out with all of your friends and have a proper party in your honor, but you shake your head at his suggestion. 

“I just want to celebrate with you.” 

He’s not a great cook, and grilled cheese doesn’t seem celebratory enough, so he orders the two of you Thai food that’s a touch too spicy for him and that you eat like it’s nothing, and you pair it with a few cans of your favorite sour beer that you keep stocked. When the plastic containers are cleared away, he pops a bottle of Prosecco that he grabbed from your wine fridge. You grin at him so hard that he feels like he’s missing out on an inside joke, but can’t figure out what it is. You giggle when he asks, holding out your glass for him to pour instead of giving him an answer. He doesn’t pay attention, too busy staring into your eyes, so he startles when the glass almost immediately bubbles over. Your giggling turns into full fledged laughter. 

“I knew that would happen,” you smirk. You swipe some of the overflowed liquid off the glass and bring your finger to your lips. Bradley is entranced, watching you lick it away. He knows he’s staring, and you raise an eyebrow at him as you hold your glass up. Your smirk is making him dizzy.

He raises his own glass, clinking it against yours lightly, “Cheers to you, Sweetheart.” 

“Cheers,” you murmur, eyes locked on his as you take a sip. 

The two of you settle onto the couch, the bottle of Prosecco on the coffee table in front of you. Your socked feet nudge against his thigh as you sit facing him, and he only hesitates for a moment before he lets his hand comfortably cover your ankle, his thumb ghosting up and down the joint as the two of you lose yourselves in conversation. He asks you about work and the article you had written; he was interested in the material, sure, but he also knew how passionate you were about what you did and that you could ramble about it when you wanted to, and he loved listening to you talk. 

You make it through the first bottle easily, and he opens the second one in much the same fashion as he did the first. He enjoys watching the way your face flushes and the way you giggle more as the champagne hits your system. He finds himself scooting closer to you as it hits him, too. Your legs are draped over his lap at this point and while one arm rests on the back of the couch behind him, the other is laying across your legs above your knees. Your black leggings are soft against the palm of his hand, and he finds a loose thread at the outer seam of your thigh to pick at. 

“Do you miss it?” he asks, “working full time?”

“Sometimes,” you admit with a shrug. You were only doing a few hours a week now, writing or offering commentary when it was asked of you. He knew that you were asked to be part of a panel covering the election earlier, but that you had declined, knowing it would put you in DC for a few days and unwilling to leave him, despite how great of an opportunity it was. 

“You can start back anytime, Pumpkin. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“You aren’t,” you promise, and your smile tells him you mean it. “I like spending time with you like this. Unless you’re getting sick of me already? I’ll make some calls tomorrow and see if they need me in Washington if that’s the case.” 

Your voice has taken on that familiar teasing tone that he loved so much and he laughs, shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it’s possible to be sick of you. I’d miss you too much if you weren’t here,” he teases back, though his words were true. 

“I bet you would.”

“I would! Who else would cook me dinner or drive me around and keep me entertained?”

You throw your head back as you laugh, and his smirk turns into a tipsy grin at the vision you create. It still shocks him, this effect you have on him. 

“That’s all I’m good for, huh?”

“You’re good for a lot of things,” he promises, and though his voice still has that little bit of a teasing lilt to it, neither of you can deny how serious he sounds, either. 

You stare at him for a long moment, your bottom lip drawn between your teeth in a way that makes his heart beat faster. Your cheeks are flushed so prettily, your eyes wide and bright. You look like you’re calculating something and he patiently waits you out. 

“I’m so glad we’re here,” you eventually whisper, and the quirk of his eyebrow asks the question he doesn’t verbally. “Things could have ended differently.”

“Pumpkin..”

“They could have.” He knows you’re right, but that doesn’t mean he likes to hear it. You cup his cheek and your soft hand against his scruff is the best kind of juxtaposition. He turns his head just the slightest bit, pressing a kiss against your palm. Your lips part slightly at the action. “But instead, you’re right here with me, and things may not be the same, but…they’re getting there. I don’t have to miss you when you’re right in front of me anymore, not completely, at least.” 

“What do you mean, completely?” 

Your eyes widen briefly, like you just embarrassed yourself with your own words. The heat that takes over your face is different from the flush you had from the champagne. It draws him in closer, his hand spreading out on your outer thigh. Your hand is still on his face and your eyes are growing darker, but you bite your lip and shake your head. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“Pumpkin.” Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and you shiver, then, and Bradley suddenly has an idea of what it was you were thinking. You may not have to miss him emotionally, for the most part, but you’re still missing him in other ways. His mind flashes back to the photos he found in his phone. And maybe it’s the champagne in his system or the way you’re looking at him, or maybe just how familiar you feel to him lately, but he finds himself wanting to be bold. “Do you miss…being able to send me pictures, like you did before?” 

You gasp out a sharp, surprised sound, your eyes widening more than before. He feels you tense against him and for a moment he questions whether that was the right thing to say. 

“I found them,” he tells you before you could ask, and his hand has started slowly trailing up and down on your thigh as it lays in his lap. “When I was going through my phone last week. I hadn’t meant to but I was reading our messages and then saw a picture you had sent me and remembered that there were more. Maybe I shouldn’t have looked at them.” 

But you’re already shaking your head, murmuring that it was okay. 

“Did you…did you like them?” you stutter, and your voice is smaller, more insecure than Bradley had ever heard, and he didn’t like that tone - he never wanted you to feel anything but confident with him.  

He hooks a finger under your chin, raising your eyes so that they’ll meet him again from where they had fallen in your sudden display of shyness. “I did,” he promises, and your lips part again.“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Pumpkin.” 

Your breathing intermingles as he leans forward, and he can taste the Prosecco on your lips when he kisses you. 

You pull away after only a moment and Bradley chases after you. You duck your head, and his kiss lands on your burning cheek instead. You won’t meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and you shake your head. “Pumpkin?” 

“I’m a little embarrassed,” you admit, and it seems unimaginable to him, knowing how comfortable you usually are in your body, especially when it comes to him. But then he realizes that while he may know that, you don’t know that he knows that, because this is something he’s kept to himself since that very first morning waking up beside you after weeks without it and the shower it forced him into afterward. 

He takes a deep breath and moves his hand higher on your leg. Your leggings are pulled tight around your butt, but he squeezes lightly and your eyelashes flutter as you draw your lip between your teeth again. 

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you took them.” 

Your eyes open just the slightest bit, and he swallows thickly before continuing. 

“I don’t think you were embarrassed when you went in our closet and got my uniform hat out as soon as I left for work that morning, and how you undressed yourself and put it on for me to tease me, knowing I had a hop that day that would get my adrenaline running. I don’t think you were embarrassed when I came home that night, and I found you on our bed, touching yourself while you were waiting for me. Or how that hat stayed on the whole time and I didn't take it off until you were almost asleep on my chest afterwards.” 

Your breathing quickens as he speaks. The whimper you let out when his words clicked in your head sent a shot of heat straight through him; not all of those things were mentioned in your text thread or documented in that scandalous little secret album he had made of you. Which means it was something he remembered about you - about the two of you, together. 

You’re the one who kisses him, this time, and he’s immediately opening his mouth for you. As your tongues tangle together, he grabs your ass a little bit firmer and before he realizes what he’s doing, you’re straddling him there on the couch. You hover above him at first, but he shakes his head into the kiss and pulls you flush down on him. You moan into each other’s mouths and Bradley kisses you harder. 

Hands wander and tongues explore and Bradley thinks this may be what heaven feels like.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers into your skin, his lips trailing up and down your neck as you heave for air; your chest presses against his with every exhale. “I don’t say it enough.”

“You always made me feel beautiful, baby. Every day.”

He doesn’t like that word - made. Because that implied he didn’t now, at least not in the same ways, and all he wants is to love you and cherish you and make you feel wanted, because he does and you are. 

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. They’re hooded. Dark. Full of a desire that’s still guarded even if you’re trying to hide the fact. 

“I’ll tell you everyday from now on. I’ll make sure you know.”

He cuts off your response with another kiss, catching your moan in his mouth. His hands trail back down over your body, feeling your curves in the most delicious of ways, to settle back on your full behind. He squeezes harder this time and his hips buck up at the same time you grind down. He knows that you can feel how hard he is; he can’t bring himself to be ashamed. He repeats the action and when he feels you tug on his hair, he rips his mouth away from yours to let out a long, drawn out sound. 

“Fuck,” he moans, and you pull on the strands again. “I like that.”

“I know,” you hum before Bradley connects your lips again. He keeps a solid grip on you and uses the momentum of the moment to his advantage, twisting the two of you so that he can lay you down on the couch cushions with him bracketed between your legs without ever losing contact with you. Your heels dig into his lower back as you arch into him.

He loses track of how long he holds you down and kisses you; all the time in the world would never be enough for him. 

He angles himself up just the slightest bit so he can fit one of his hands between the two of you. He’s desperate to feel you against his fingers. But it’s when he’s slipping past the waistband of your thin pants that you grip his wrist. 

“Wait,” you pant. Bradley pauses immediately, his chest heaving. “Wait, wait.”

“Pumpkin?” 

“We should stop,” you insist, nodding your head when he shakes his at you. He knows that even if the words are coming from your mouth, you’re fighting them. 

“Why?” 

“Because,” you say, “I want you so much, baby.”

“Then I don’t understand why we’re stopping. I want you too. I want you so much.” He places a few featherlight kisses against your cheeks and forehead. To his surprise, tears well in your eyes at the action. “Sweetheart?”

“That’s why we have to stop,” you croak. You push against him again, and this time, Bradley moves so that you can slip out from underneath him. He lays on his side on the couch, partially propped up by one arm as you stand in front of him.

“I don’t understand,” he mutters again, feeling just a little bit hopeless, and he watches as you fight to catch your breath. You’re twisting your ring again, and as was common recently, he feels the lack of one on his own finger. 

“You said-we said we wanted to go slow, remember? That we would wait…wait until things were how they used to be.” 

Bradley sits up, then, eyeing you carefully. He goes over your words in his head, wondering what it was you meant. He thought things had been getting better. From what he remembers, how the two of you have been acting with one another and how he feels is how things used to be. He licks his lips as he considers how to respond. He can still taste the coconut of your chapstick. 

“Are they not…how they used to be?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Your eyes are wide and he believes you. You’re fighting with yourself right now, an inner turmoil that is manifesting itself in the way you twist your ring and run your hand through your ruffled hair. “I know I can’t have it exactly the same. And I’m okay with that, really! But I-I don’t want to do this if we aren’t on the same page, okay? I won’t be something that you regret. I don’t…I wouldn’t be able to handle that.” 

There’s something you’re not saying. Something you’re scared to say, and Bradley knows that whatever it is is because you don’t want to make him feel bad. 

It clicks, then, that he hasn’t been the only one holding back. He had been fighting himself, trying to be considerate of your feelings and not overwhelm you with something he didn’t understand yet, all the while you had been doing the very same as you fought yourself to protect him from how you feel. You hadn’t asked for another I love you since that night on the porch, not wanting to hear it if he didn’t know he meant it. You really didn’t know how he felt now, because he had been too scared to share it with you. He can’t believe he hasn’t put together how much the both of you need that until this moment. You had made yourself vulnerable for him that time, and he needed to do the same with you now.

Bradley stands from the couch, calling your name softly. You stop your pacing, your gaze still as dark and hooded and worried as it was a moment ago. You chew on your bottom lip as you look at him. He grabs your left hand, pulling you closer to him, and takes your place in rubbing his finger over the ring he had placed there 3 years ago. Your breath catches, and it doesn’t escape him that this is the first time he’s intentionally touched the jewelry. 

He thought he’d be nervous at this moment. In all the times he thought about it, it shook him to the core so vividly that he kept it to himself. But he didn’t feel any of the anticipated butterflies in his stomach, or a whirling in his head. Instead he feels completely at ease - calmer than he has been since he woke up in that hospital bed almost two months ago. 

He doesn’t remember everything, but he remembers enough to know not only you, but how he feels about you.

He knows you prefer iced coffee all year round regardless of the temperature outside. He knows that you keep chapstick in almost every room, and that even if you don’t admit it, sometimes you wish you had a better relationship with your parents. He knows that building this home with you was the first time he ever touched his mothers life insurance policy, because he knew that’s what she would want and it made him feel like she was a part of this experience, too. You preferred putting up Christmas decorations the day after Halloween and you miss the snow that came with living in the northeast. You watch way too much true crime to the point you sometimes make yourself a little paranoid when the lights are off, but he always enjoyed holding you a little closer when you felt that way. He knows that you make him smile and feel things he had never known before. You protect him and you love him and he wants to be with you, always, and would do anything for you. And he thinks he knew those things even before he knew you, both times around. 

“I love you.”

He sees your lips part, and your eyes immediately fill with tears again. He hates making you cry but he knows, he knows these are good tears, and so long overdue. 

“You do?” You ask, voice trembling with emotion. Bradley nods, feeling a lump forming in his throat. With the hand not holding yours, he pushes some of your hair out of your face, letting his fingers trail over the smooth skin. 

“I’ll always love you, Pumpkin. I promised you that, remember?” 

You let out a sob, then, nodding your head rapidly and squeezing his hand. “I do. Do you?” 

He hums in response, and a small smile quirks at his lips. “Loving you was the easiest thing I’ll ever remember, baby. I don’t think it’s something that I ever really forgot.” 

You kiss him then and it’s desperate in a way that it hasn’t been up until this point. He bends his knees and you jump to wrap your legs around his waist and it feels so good, holding you closely like this. There was a certain kind of thrill knowing that he was the only thing keeping you upright and that you trusted him so fully to not let you fall. Your arms are tight around his neck. He wants you, maybe more than anything he’s ever wanted before. 

It’s a fumble of kisses and moans as he carries you up the stairs. He trips near the top, and you let out almost giddy laughter when he slams you back into the wall to avoid an uncomfortable trip back down to the first floor. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he pants, kissing you again, pulling away only to press his lips to your cheeks and to nip at your jaw. The wall gives him leverage and he pushes his hips hard into yours; he swears he can almost feel how wet and warm you are through both of your clothing already. He’s harder than he can ever remember being and the breathy little moan you let out makes him throb. 

“Take me to bed,” you accompany the request with a tug of the curls on the back of his head and he crashes his lips back to yours before you can even get another word in. 

He pulls you away from the wall and finishes the climb. Your tongue tangles with his the whole way to your room and it’s not until he sets you down at the foot of the bed that he pulls away. It’s silent for a moment, the only sound is your combined heavy breathing as you stare at one another. 

“Are you alright?” you ask softly, and Bradley thinks he could cry, all of a sudden. He’s not sure what he did to deserve someone who cares about him the way you so effortlessly and willingly do. 

“I’m perfect,” he says in response. A beat passes and he sees you slowly reaching for the hem of your shirt, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me,” he rasps. Slowly, he slides his hands under the fabric, feeling the skin soft and burning under his fingertips. You lift your arms above your head and he takes the hint without a question. The material comes off easily, but he doesn’t linger; he wants to see all of you.

The wide surface of his hands rest against the soft skin of your waistline, his thumbs briefly caressing the skin just under your bra, before he lets them trail down to your hips. Without a word, he sinks down to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you, meeting your eyes, and though no question really needs to be asked at this point, you answer him anyway with a small nod. He leans forward and presses a featherlight kiss against your stomach. Slowly, he peels the stretchy material down your legs. It pools at your feet and he looks up at you again, your eyes blown dark and wide with desire and love. 

“I love you,” he says again, followed by another kiss to your panty line. Lingering, gentle. His eyes flutter briefly and he lets himself breathe you in for a moment before continuing on the mission he set out to do. 

He tugs the pretty pink cotton down your legs. His lips follow, kissing first your hip bone and then the top of your thighs, and your fingertips dig into his shoulders that you’re holding onto for purchase as you lift each leg to let him remove the material completely. 

He rises slowly, and you don’t hesitate to thread your fingers through his hair again and tug his lips to yours as he does. His hands glide up your spine, feeling each ridge as he goes, and he loves the way you shiver for him. He only fumbles with the clasp of your black bra for a moment before he feels it give. He takes a small step back, admiring the way it looks as it falls down your shoulders. He swallows thickly as he tugs it gently, giving it that last little bit of momentum to separate from your body and fall to the ground between you. 

You don’t move to cover yourself, completely bare before him, and he marvels at the work of art that you create. You’re beautiful, astonishingly so, and he can’t believe that you’re his; he can’t believe that you chose him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out. With those words, he learns that you flush all over. 

He tugs at his own shirt, quickly ridding himself of that and the pants he had been wearing, and when he’s down to just his boxer briefs, he pulls you against him again, already missing the feel of your lips on his. He picks you up once more, only to lay you down on the soft blanket covering your bed. He climbs on top of you, and seeing you like this, spread out underneath him, is nearly his undoing. 

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to your nose, brief and chaste, before continuing down, ghosting of touches to your chin and your neck. His lips make it to a freckle on your clavicle, and it’s warmer, open and wet, and you arch up into him with a gasp. When he circles your nipple with his tongue, you moan for him. 

“Bradley.” 

But he’s not done yet, wants to taste you all over. A hunger grows in him the closer he gets, and you must know what he’s intending because you let the thighs you had been rubbing together fall open before him. He can see how wet you are, how you glisten against the small smattering of hair you have there. His mouth waters as your scent hits him, musky and floral and something that is just you, and he doesn’t hesitate as he flattens his tongue against your folds. You taste devine. He groans against you as he does it again, licking all the way up before he wraps his lips around your clit. 

“Bradley, oh god.” 

Blindly, he grabs your hands from where they’re clenching the comforter. He threads his fingers with yours and you squeeze tight. He feels the pressure of your rings. 

You’re whining underneath him as he continues lapping at your core and he thinks he could come just from the sounds you’re making and the taste of you. He pushes his tongue inside of you and he can’t help but look up at you from his position. Your head is thrown back, your lip between your teeth, and oh, no, that won’t do. 

“I want to hear you,” he pulls away to say, diving back in once he sees you release your lip. As he closes around your sensitive nub again, he’s rewarded with a loud gasp, followed by a keen of his name. 

Yes, he thinks, that’s more like you. 

Your orgasm hits you faster than he anticipated just a few moments later. Your hips grind up into his face as he sucks furiously at your clit and god damn, he can’t believe he could have ever forgotten you. 

He’s panting when he pulls away, licking his lips to chase the taste of you. He rests his cheek on your thigh, watching as you come down. Your chest heaves and your whole body seems to tremble in the aftershocks of it, and when you open your eyes and look down at him, he’s a little bit startled to see them glassy with tears. 

“Pum-” 

“Come here,” you gasp, tugging your hands loose from where they were still intertwined with his to pull him back up your body. You kiss him, desperate and wanting, and he knows you must be able to taste yourself on his tongue. He pulls away, panting from the lack of oxygen. 

“You’re crying,” he notes. 

“You’re real,” you return, clutching at his bare back, and he understands immediately - he had been right here, but still out of reach for you for way too long. “I love you, and I missed you so much.” 

“I’m right here,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your nose, your lips. “I’m never leaving you again.” It’s not a promise he’s guaranteed to keep, but he knows he’d do everything in his power for the rest of his life not to break it. 

“Off,” you command, trying to push the green material of his briefs, the only thing still separating you, down with your feet like they had personally offended you. “Baby, please. Please, please, please.” 

Seeing you desperate like this makes him dizzy and he’s quick to appease you. When he settles himself flush on top of you, you both moan at the feeling. He’s hot and heavy against your warm and wet center; Bradley doesn’t know how he’s going to last. He places a tender, chaste kiss to your lips as he lines himself up, whispering again that he loves you against your mouth. 

Sliding into you feels like the first time, and he supposes in a way, it is. You feel like home and hope and everything good and he never wants to be away from you again. 

It was too much. It wasn’t enough. It was everything, all at once. 

“Fuck,” he rasps. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking amazing. I’m not going to last,” he pants, desperately trying to regain some control over himself. He had never felt this close this fast, but the emotions of the night mixed with how long it’s been were proving to be detrimental to his stamina. He needed this, so badly. You both did. You shake your head and assure him that it’s okay. You clench around him and his arms shake from where he’s holding himself up above you. He drops to his forearms, unable to take it. 

“Move,” you gasp, and who is he as your husband to deny you anything? 

Bradley slowly pulls his hips back, enjoying the drag as he goes, but relishing in how much better it feels to sink back into you. Over and over again he repeats the motion. A tremble climbs up his spine as he kisses along your jaw, nipping at you softly and soothing it with his tongue. He settles his face into the curve of your neck, panting against your skin. 

His chest is pressed against yours, your nails scraping down in his back in a way that he hopes he carries with him for the next few days. Your heels press into the back of his thighs and urge him forward with every thrust, meeting him move for move. The sounds you were making were like music and with every gasp and moan of his name, he craves more. 

“Let go, sweetheart,” you murmur in his ear, nudging your nose along the scruff of his beard. But he shakes his head, unwilling to lose himself before you did, too. He brings his hand down to your center, circling gently at first before rapidly rubbing at your clit with his fingers to push you closer to that edge he was already precariously dangling on. 

“You’re so tight,” he murmurs, delighting in the way you immediately clench down. “I want you to come for me, Pumpkin.” 

“Bradley,” you whimper, clutching him closer. He knows that you’re almost there, knows it like he knows how much he loves you and how lucky he is to be married to you. 

“My perfect wife,” he breathes, and that’s what finally does it. 

You break with a sob, and oh. Having you come on his tongue is one thing, but feeling you come around his cock is something almost otherworldly. He knows he’ll never feel anything like it again outside of you.

He loses his rhythm as he chases his own end. You’re impossibly tight around him and he knows nothing but you at this moment. You moan his name again and his orgasm pulses at his core and sweeps through him. He releases inside of you with a shout of your name and you clutch at him as he rides it out. 

It’s almost too overwhelming, everything that he’s feeling right now. You run your fingers through his hair as he tries to catch his breath, softly combing through the damp strands. He gives a few lazy after thrusts and you whimper at the oversensitivity it causes, but shake your head when he goes to pull out. 

“Stay,” you murmur, voice tired in the best of ways, “stay.” 

He presses his forehead against yours and your breaths mingle together. He forces his eyes to stay open, wanting to see you in the afterglow. It occurs to him, then, that this experience was entirely his own. There was no tingling in his brain or fuzziness in his line of vision that always came when a memory hit him. This was new. A refreshed start, not muddled by the confusion of what was and what is. It’s just the two of you, here, together, finding peace and pleasure and love no matter the circumstance that got you here.

“I love you,” he whispers. It must be the fifth or eighth or maybe even the twelfth time tonight, but he doesn’t care. He’s gone so long without saying it that he feels like he had to make up for lost time. 

“I love you, too.” 

He wants to stay in your arms forever, and for the first time since he woke up in the hospital, when he was overwhelmed with emotions he didn’t understand, he feels like maybe he can. 

-----

Part Ten :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: The moment I feel like people have been waiting for! I hope you enjoyed! Just a few more parts left :)

Tag List: @roosterforme - @mak-32 - @hoyaharper - @wildxwidow - @gretagerwigsmuse - @bradshawburner - @iamaslytherin0 - @lilyevanswhore - @too-fangirl-to-fuction - @fav-fanficssss - @benhardysdrumstick - @fandomxpreferences - @acatwriteshere - @1234-angelika - @double-j - @cocoskween - @sunflowersteves - @teacupsandtopgun - @littlezee80 - @sometimesanalice - @je-suis-prest-rachel - @khaylin27 - @infamous-reindeer - @hotch-meeeeeuppppp - @sarahjoestewy-blog - @sunnysidesidra - @notroosterbradshaw - @yanna-banana - @inthestars-underthesun -@avengersfan25 - @wkndwlff - @zbeez-outlet - @lt-spork - @indynerdgirl - @loveforaugust - @mssleepy876b

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[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + Headcanons, Part 2 (Pigsy, Tang, Sandy, Sun Wukong, Macaque)

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Huge environmentalist, if you put any garbage or recycling in the wrong bin expect to get at least a three hour lecture, no you can not escape this, yes MK and Mei have tried, no they did not succeed

- ONLY shops from farmers markets/family businesses, you will never catch this man supporting a corporation

- Use to steal Tang's college hoodies

- Took him the longest to get used to having Redson around and a part of the group , but eventually warmed up to him (is still kinda salty about Redson burning MK's room though)

- Grows his own herbs

- Gets incredibly frustrated when he gets the hiccups (writing this as I'm fighting off hiccups)

- Loves watching true crime shows and listening to true crime podcasts while he does household chores or while he's setting up/closing the shop

- Got his ears pierced with Tang

- MK and Mei call him mom when he's being overbearing, Tang calls him mom now too to tease him

- Once caught Mei and MK sneaking food out of the kitchen at 3am and beat them with a broom for a solid minute because he was too drowsy to recognize them and assumed they were intruders (they were fine)

- Is the type of person to call his husband (Tang) "bro", "dude" etc

- Got drunk in college once and talked about nothing but how much he loved Tang, didn't remember any of it the next day but Tang asked him out pretty quickly after that

- Exchanged a few recipes with DBK while they were at the beach, they still do exchange more recipes once in a while but they don't talk much outside of cooking related topics

- Learned how to play dnd in college because Tang liked the game and ended up liking it a lot more than he expected to so they wound up playing together all the time (they still play it once in a while if they have time)

- Him and Sandy get together every other weekend to try and help Pigsy with his anger management issues

- Never called MK his son while he was growing up because he was scared that MK's real family would show up one day to take him back home, finally realized that no one was gonna show up a short while after MK turned 10 and started acting like an actual parent (MK always saw Pigsy as his dad though)

- Always says "this is the last time" when giving Tang free noodles (it is never gonna be the last time, and Tang knows it)

- Once bumped into a mannequin at the mall and apologized to it, Tang still makes fun of him

- Use to take Mei and MK to conventions all the time until Mei learned how to drive and could take them herself

- Won't care for people getting hurt in movies but will be absolutely crushed if something happens to an animal (sobbed when he watched "A Dog's Purpose")

- Smells like noodles

- Love language is acts of service

- Keeps trying to convince Tang to come with him to family events, has yet to succeed

- Carries around an extra pair of headphones in case Tang or MK needs them

- Almost threw hands with DBK and PiF after hearing about how they treated Redson (seriously guys, I need Redson to have a good parental figure in the next season, please), this man is a father to everyone

- Snores loud as fuck, it's a wonder how Tang gets any sleep

- No fashion sense what's so ever

- Insomnia

- He/Him

- Gay

- Once zoned out and stared at a wall for six hours straight

- Desk is covered in pencil shavings and pen ink

- Constantly bruised from always falling (weak ankles)

- Fluent in Polish, don't ask why, it just feels right

- Doodled all over his books in school (they made him pay for new ones)

- Never up before sunrise

- Got in some random dudes car once thinking it was a taxi and almost got himself kidnapped

- Will make the most annoying, smart-ass remark to anything anyone says

- I'm not actually sure if it's ever mentioned in the show what Tang does for a living but it doesn't matter, he's a college history professor now

- Has grandma floral bedsheets (we've all seen his sleepwear, you cannot tell me that man doesn't have grandma floral bedsheets)

- Somehow always cold

- Constanly napping, he can and will fall asleep if he's left alone for too long (his students once caught him asleep at his desk after lunch break and dipped class)

- Used to have hexagon glasses cause he thought they looked cool but found out Pigsy liked circular ones better so he got new ones

- Still has a septum piercing he got while he was in college but keeps it flipped up, he also has ear gauges

- When he met Pigsy's parents he was super nervous and ended up passing out half way through the night because of anxiety, he has not lived it down and refuses to go to any events with Pigsy if his family is gonna be there (they actually really liked him and are disappointed when he doesn't show up)

- Doesn't own a bookshelf for some reason, everything is just piled on the floor

- Very faint freckles

- Needs a daily 'to do' list, his whole day gets thrown off if he doesn't have some kind of schedule

- Maladaptive daydreamer

- Never showers, only takes baths

- Needs headphones on crowded transportation otherwise he'll get stressed at all the noises and talking overlapping eachother

- Severe rsd (rejection sensitivity dysphoria,  "benched" was an especially bad time for him)

- Number one art appreciator and constantly drags Pigsy to museums

- Smells like a library (please tell me you know what smell I mean)

- Love language is gift giving ( and you KNOW he loves you when he shares his food with you willingly)

- 76% of the clothes he owns are thrifted

- Blind as a fucking bat, if he looses his glasses he's on the floor feeling around for them like Velma,  I swear they could be two feet in front of him but he won't even notice

- Hypersomnia

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Huge conspiracy theorist, ask him anything and he'll have some in depth explanation on how it relates to cryptids or something (I'm talking Matpat level conspiracy theorist, seriously, someone get him help)

- Slowest typer on the planet (mainly because the screen is too small for his hands), will respond to something 3-5 minutes after they changed topics

- Made seed bombs and threw them everywhere at random around the city and now there's a bunch of flowers and vines growing everywhere

- Was the first one (Aside from Mei and MK) to welcome Redson into the group with open arms, everyone else was still kinda cautious

- Would literally die for any of his friends, no questions asked, no hesitation, just jumps in the line of danger as soon as he sees one of his friends about to get hurt

- Didn't have a lot of friends growing up until he met Pigsy in his last year of high school because everyone was afraid of him

- He and Pigsy were in a band together in college, Sandy discusses it with pride, Pigsy gets embarrassed and denies ever being in a band at all

- Since he also has scales he's the one who teaches and helps Mei look after her scales and keep them from drying or getting damaged

- Yoga master, wakes up super early to do it during sunrise

- Has the best taste in music, he can find the most amazing, tear jerking, heart wrenching, underground music ever effortlessly

- Hasn't met a single person he wasn't able to get along with

- Firmly believes in all the little wishing rituals (11:11, shooting stars, birthday candles, blowing dandelions etc)

- Learned how to whistle so he could sing along with birds

- *gets robbed* "oh, i bet he needed the money, it's ok"  "I really don't think he did." "...maybe he's gonna donate it!"

- Favourite kind of tea is earl grey

- Named one of his cats Maquack after Macaque

- Sometimes cat sits for Bai He when she goes to doctor appointments, family visits out of the city, etc

- Got his piercing while he was still in a band but kept them in because his band mates were some of his first friends and they all got pierced together

- Has a tail to help him swim better (unfortunately I could not add it in the edit above but just I imagine he has the same kind of tail as the water Na'vi in Avatar ig)

- Skin has a faint ombre to it (his hands and feet are lighter and fade around his forearms/knees to a slightly darker blue (i did add this one in my edit but unfortunately I don't think it's as visible as I wanted it to be, my bad)

- Webbed hands and feet to help him swim better

- Has adipose eyelids like a fish to protect his eyes from the water, block exposure of harmful ultraviolet light into his eyes and act as protection against impact to the eye in aquatic environments. Since his eyelids are transparent though, he has to wear a sleeping mask at night

- Smells like a mix of ocean air and tea

- Love language is quality time and physical touch (will pick up and hug his friends all the time no matter the place)

- His hair and beard always have something in them, sand, seaweed etc

- Shoes are actually really uncomfortable for him to wear because his body is evolved for an aquatic environment, but he doesn't want to be rude so he wears them anyway (Mei found out and got him a customized pair of shoes so he could be comfortable without feeling like he's being rude)

- Uses Kaomojis

- If he's not busy, or doesn't have anything planned for the next few hours, he'll spend his free time cleaning up the ocean and beaches from any garbage

- He/Him

- Pansexual

- Everything he has ever done has been an impulse decision

- Is the type of mf to kick the inside of someone knee while they're walking to make them fold (Tang is the primary victim)

- Chews his nails

- Made up his own constellations as a "fuck you" to the universe (somehow managed to convince some mortals they were real constellations too)

- Mk and Co constantly forget how ancient swk is until he says some old person shit

- Naturally has curly and untamable hair, uses glamor to avoid getting called out about not taking care of it

- Horrifically optimistic

- Always has leaves and dirt and sticks etc in his hair

- Will sit out in the rain for hours on end

- Follow up on the last hc, he's been struck by lightning.. twice

- Actually has really heavy eyebags but uses glamor to cover them up

- Gets bored super easily

- Has naturally long lashes, Mei is still convinced he's wearing makeup though

- Cannot cook for the life of him

- His memories are always in shades of gold, no ones sure if it hasn't something to do with his gold vision or not, even himself, he just can't remember things in normal colour

- Stress induced migraines from the circlet

- Not a fan of big cities but loves how the lights look at night

- Stacks of notebooks and loose paper, cannot keep anything organized

- Takes a nap everyday at exactly 2:38 without fail

- Freezes in the winter, man's house has no insulation whatsoever

- Doesn't like big crowds but also can't stand not being the center of attention

- Once picked fleas out of both MK's and his own hair and ate them, MK was and still is disgusted, he will never look at Monkey King the same way again

- Smells like Peaches (it's like the only fucking thing he eats)

- Love language is physical touch

- Kinda chubby (mostly around his stomach and thighs) but still has muscles

- Always teasing Redson about the fact that he's technically his uncle since he and DBK are sworn brothers, he finds Redson's overreactions to it funny but is secretly kinda hurt that Redson doesn't think of him as family anymore (He use to when he was a little kid but stopped seeing Wukong as family after he sealed DBK away. They've started to try and mend their relationship after the events of season 4, it's slow but it's progress)

- Sometimes the monkey's on FFM will come into his house through the windows at night to sleep with him for comfort

- Really bad with technology but pretends he's just too good for the internet so he can avoid using it without looking old

- He/Him

- Bisexual

- Says his "S"'s really sharply

- If you ask him anything about himself he'll give you a different answer to the exact same question everytime (he thinks it makes him mysterious,  it does not)

- Lower lid eyeliner >>>

- If you say something stupid or weird he'll just stare judgingly until you take it back

- Actually lost his mind when he found out what blowing bubbles were

- Drinks tea with an ungodly amount of sugar

- Chronic eye pain + headaches. It's gotten significantly better over the years but.. yk, eye gouged out

- Has a deeply relaxing voice, strangely enough

- Has tried to compliment people before but it always ends up coming off as an insult

- Classical music or heavy rock, no in-between

- It is literally impossible to take a bad picture of him

- Puts his hair up in a bun whe he doesn't wanna deal with it

- Has patches of freeze burns from LBD, along his right side (mostly just his arm).

- Theater kid

- Rose tea enjoyer

- Likes to bake sometimes and frequently exchanges recipes with Pigsy and DBK

- Like to watch the sunrise and sunset

- Hates being out in the sun too long, not having a shaded area nearby for an easy escape stresses him

- Will stare out the window while it rains, Mei once said he looked like he was pretending to be in a cringey early 2010 music video

- Hard of hearing, his six ears are very sensitive and all the fighting and screaming has definitely done some damage to them by now

- Follow up on the last HC, despite being hard of hearing he will either absolutely refuse to wear hearing aids, or will wear them (albeit begrudgingly) but cover them with glamor

- Septum and snake bite piercings he got during his emo phase

- Smells like grapes, don't ask

- Love language is quality time, he doesn't care to actually have a conversation, though, he's fine just sitting in comfortable silence

- Will use his shadow transport for the dumbest things when he's lazy, like teleporting the TV remote to him if it's on the other side of the couch, teleport a bag of chips from the pantry to him in his bedroom,  etc

- Room is covered in scented candles

- Sandy has invited him over to work out some of his problems multiple times, he doesn't really care to open up though, he just goes for the cats (Sandy let's him)

- His hair is always soft and he refuses to tell anyone what he washes with, MK has asked multiple times and he gets a different, vague answer everytime

#fanart #lego monkie kid #lego monkey kid fanart #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk sandy #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #freenoodleshipping #lmk freenoodles #monkie kid freenoodles #shadowpeach #lmk shadowpeach #lego monkie kid shadowpeach #lmk headcanon #headcanon #edit

[lild00td00t]

Straw Hat Pirates: Love Languages

Luffy

PHYSICAL TOUCH

• With as much as Luffy hugs, wraps around and embraces people he genuinely comes off as a physical touch type to me.

• Loves sitting beside you, if you can’t sit directly beside him he’ll make sure you’re touching in some way, is not AT ALL shy and WILL sit on your lap-

• definitely pulls on your arm or pokes you to get your attention, and holds your hand whenever you travel together

• He loves giving random hugs through the day, doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’ll find you 👀

• Sitting and reading a book ? That’s cool, Luffy wants to be sitting directly beside you, almost in your lap reading it too. Taking a nap ? Awesome, Luffy will join and wrap around you like a python. Eating ? How kind of you to “share” your food and hold his hand while you eat

Zoro

QUALITY TIME

• Zoro loves getting to have drinks with you, whether it be with the crew or only each other so long as you’re there he’s having a good time.

• Adores having you with him while he trains, he’ll catch you sneaking a peek and trying to play it off like you didn’t, only for him to secretly flex more, or turn away to give you a better look, he knows exactly what he’s doing

• Just having you with him regardless of whatever he’s doing, whether it’s drinking, training or on look out he enjoys you being there

• He enjoys the comfortable silences that you two have sometimes, where he can listen to whatever you’re doing while he’s cleaning his swords, knowing you’re just a few feet away brings him comfort

• It’s a good thing you’re always together too, you make sure he stays with the crew, much to their relief. Unless you’re just as bad as he is at navigation, then you’ll somehow end up in enemy lines in the complete opposite direction of the crew… if that’s the case, then… atleast you’re together, right ?

Ussop

GIFT GIVING

• Most of his gifts are handmade!!

• Listens to you INTENTLY for his next project, he’s always making things and leaving them for you to find, it’s the sweetest

• I feel that Ussop has AMAZING attention to detail in relationships, he’ll notice you talk about something often or buy something more frequently then other things, and from there he has an idea of what to get you

• You’ll wake up to your favorite snack food on your bedside table or a new piece of jewelry you were looking at, he pays VERY close attention

• ALWAYS knows what to get you, he’s like a mind reader, I bet he’s the type of person everyone hopes to get for white elephant gifts besides Nami, they always get the best gifts.

• His are always so sweet and sentimental as well, I imagine he gifts you drawings of yourself as well, his handmade gifts are simply adorable and the sweetest

Sanji

ACTS OF SERVICE

• “ I was born to serve the ladies! “

• And serve he does - need a drink ? A snack ? A comfier blanket ? He’s on it!!

• LOVES making new foods for you to try, whether you have a sweet tooth or prefer more savory meals he’s constantly aiming to please you

• Takes care of the dishes, cleaning, and prep all by himself, won’t let you lift a precious finger in his kitchen, though you can stay and chat with him, it would be extra appreciated!

• He loves being your errand boy, and will gladly see to it that both your errands get done, on top of that he’s ALWAYS the one cooking dinner, as Sanji says, he loves to serve!

Nami

GIFT GIVING

• Nami’s love language was quite obvious to me, which is gift giving.

• the problem with her “gift” giving is…… was it actually purchased or did she use her five finger discount. In other words, did she steal it ? The anwser is: most likely.

• Nami gifts you lavish accessories and clothes, she LOVES matching outfits sometimes. I would imagine since she’s ALWAYS shopping she picks up a few matching things here and there. She expects gifts in return however, and I imagine she isn’t cheap to shop for, but whatever you get her I imagine she’s very appreciative.

• Dates with her would look like lavish shopping trips between the two of you, no Luffy or Zoro to destroy half the town and send everyone fleeing, just you, her, and a pocket full of cash to spend!

Nico Robin

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

• Robin thrives off of words of kindness and encouragement, let her know she’s a great partner or that you enjoy her and she’ll be so grateful for you

• Give her nicknames, please, this woman needs so much kindness after everything she went through

• I feel sometimes Robin needs reassurance, sometimes the names that hurt her in her past come back to haunt her, which is why I feel she would thrive on your encouragement and affirmations

• She definitely returns the favor, praising you for even just the minimal, she will always voice her contentment with you

• Will give you even cuter nicknames, I imagine she’s quite crafty and thinks of some crafty ones as well!

Franky

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION

• LOVES when you call him or anything he does ‘super’, he gets so excited that his mannerisms are rubbing off on you

• He’s such a softie, he cries if you start to get sweet with him, he’s ALWAYS the first to cry or get emotional once you compliment or begin to affirm him, he’s just so touched by your words!!

• Always shows his new inventions or ideas to you first. You give him the motivation to make it even better or build it faster, you are indeed his muse and inspiration for most things!

Jimbei

ACTS OF SERVICE

• Like Sanji, he is a doer. He’s always cleaning or finding ways to help the crew out, he’s never idle!

• always offers you a helping hand, especially if you have trouble finding the motivation he will make sure to personally assist you in what you need help with, whether it’s running errands or getting up for the day hes there to encourage you and take on the day with you, even if that means giving you an extra boost to start!

Brook

QUALITY TIME

• ALWAYS goes to you for song inspiration, like Franky, you are his muse!

• Practices his songs or music when you’re together, you get exclusive access to all of Soul Kings unrealized albums.. your friends must be so jealous!!

• Will always share a cup of tea with you in the mornings, it’s the one time you find him to be quiet before he starts his musical practice.

• he loves to sing for you too, not just practice, but he practically serenades you. Before bed he’s outside the door, guitar in hand while Franky sobs in the backround, wailing about how beautiful love is, atleast he has a special way of conveying how he feels!

#straw hat crew #straw hats pirates #one piece strawhats #straw hats #straw hats x reader #straw hat sanji #straw hat pirates #straw hat usopp #straw hat nami #straw hat luffy #straw hat robin #straw hat zoro #straw hat #mugiwara no luffy #op luffy #luffy #luffy x reader #luffydmonkey #monkey d. luffy #one piece luffy #op zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #pirate hunter zoro #zoro x reader #one piece zoro #ronoroa zoro #sanjionepiece #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji

[piichuu]

♡ QUIET I LOVE YOU’S - ITOSHI RIN

NOTES: fluff, gn!reader.

WORD COUNT: 634

AUGUST DRABBLES

itoshi rin may not be one who constantly tells you that he loves you, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t make you feel loved because itoshi rin has his own ways of showing you his love without having to say a word.

as you two are walking on the side walk on your way home from work (he went out of his way to meet up with you and walk you home, because he constantly worries about you, he wouldn’t admit that though), your hands are intertwined as he’s walking on the side that’s closest to the street so he would be the one in danger in case there was a driver who didn’t have control of their car.

he glares at anyone who even dares to look at you up and down while walking past, it doesn’t matter if they do it because they think you’re pretty or not, he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable, so eying them is what he does.

when you ask if you can go to the grocery store to buy some snacks because there’s something you’re craving, he’ll lead you towards the closest store and without you having to say anything, he’ll get your favorite snacks and pay for them even though you’re trying to tell him that you can pay for yourself. he won’t let you do that though because he knows you’ve been spending too much money on clothes lately.

as the two of you get home, he begins to cook dinner, allowing you to look over his shoulder while he hands you a spoon so you can taste the food and tell him if there’s something he should add, but like always, you give him a thumbs up and kiss his cheek, something that causes his cheeks to grow into a pink color, you won’t mention it though.

your arms are wrapped around his waist while you’re talking about all your annoying co-workers and the gossip you’ve heard throughout the day. he hums in acknowledgment, letting you know he’s listening to every word you say while also letting you finish the story before chiming in with his own opinions, telling you how the gossip is absolutely crazy even if he doesn’t truly understand what it’s about.

when the two of you eventually eat dinner in the living room while watching a tv-show, he looks over at you to make sure you’re enjoying the food and when he sees that pretty smile on your face, he gently strokes your hair before going back to his plate.

later that evening, the two of you are cuddled up on the couch, you laying in his lap with your cheek pressed against his chest while watching tv. his fingers brush through your hair while helping you sit up a little more so your back won’t begin to hurt due to the uncomfortable position you’re in.

he massages your neck for a bit as he’s aware of the amounts of hours you’ve had to stare down at a computer and he chooses to also focus on your shoulders to release the pain you must’ve gotten after carrying so many bags for your co-workers.

when the evening then grows into night and you’re in bed, holding each other under the covers, he makes sure that you fall asleep before he allows himself to close his eyes. if you would have struggles dozing off or eventually have a nightmare, he wants to be awake to help you, but when he sees that peaceful look on your face, feels how your grip on him loosens and how your breathing becomes even, he closes his eyes too.

but before he falls asleep, he finally lets out those three words that he only saves for you, mostly when you’re asleep. “i love you.”

TAG LIST: @timetobegone @libbyistired

if you want to join the tag list, fill out this form <3

#blue lock x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock rin #blue lock x y/n #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x y/n #itoshi rin #itoshi rin fluff #itoshi rin imagines #bllk rin #bllk fluff #bllk x you #bllk #bllk imagines #bllk x y/n #bllk x reader #x reader #august drabbles

[simplyjake]

Enha hyungs with filo!reader

summary: meeting the fam and visiting the philippines with your lovely boyfriend!

a/n: this is VERY self indulgent yall. im filo-american

i think its fully gn!reader.. let me know of any mistakes!

Heeseung

All da titas LUV hee

Girl atp during your family parties

You enter and ur man isnt with you

“Anako where is your boyfriend”

Like damn my bad tita i thought you wanted to see me more

Yk… your niece/nephew

The younger kids love him

Hes the life of the party

This goes without saying but you teach him a lot of tagalog

Or whatever dialect you speak!

You taught him putangina mo and he hasnt stopped saying it since omg

“Yo jake”

“Hmm?”

“Putang ina mo”

LOLLLLL

You teach him how to make your favorite meals

I think heeseung would really enjoy bibingka 

Though let me just say

Good luck getting your man back during a party fr like

If hes not doing karaoke w the titas, hes playing mahjong with the uncles, if not them your older cousins steal him to game and the young kids love playing house with him

And once you found him with one of your cousins babies in the room as he sings them to sleep 

like which one gave him that baby please..

Jay

Okay so jay

When you brought him to the philippines for the first time

Pookie LIVED at the mall of asia let me tell you

Like honey we still gotta do everything else

Jay would love baguio too

Doesnt even care if they are over paying him for the taho he LOVES IT

“Jay pls stop talking to them in english theyre overcharging u”

“Womp womp i dont care this street food is fire” 

Did he fr just womp womp you…

He said this after getting said taho

You made sure he knew how to bless the elderly before you meet everyone

And he makes sure he does it to all the lolas and lolos in your family!

Hes just in awe with the country and how pretty it is

He asks your parent how to cook some of your fav dishes

Just so he can make it at home whenever you feel homesick

He actually had to buy a THIRD luggage for yall cus he would not stop buying souvenirs and clothes when you went.

I think jays fav filo dish would be balatong idk

I dont make the rules

Tbh i kinda do

Anywho

After the trip jay has a talk with you

He really wants to have a house there for whenever you visit and have it be next to your family home :( so cute

Makes plans to propose at your favorite place in the ph!!

Jake

Ok jake

The titos LOVE jake

Honorary filipino of the family fs

Your younger girl cousins are all over him HELP

“Can i have my man back”

“No.”

“You heard them y/n, i guess i have to stay with her”

Oh hes sick

Constantly offered your lola to help cook 

She said no plenty of times but he wouldnt take no for an answer!

You took him to visit paoay 

LOVED IT THERE

Jollibees number one fan

LIVES for the pineapple quencher got it anytime he ordered

Hesitant on the cheese and ube pie

Ended up buying like two during the visits

Jake love love loves igado

Its now one of his favorite dishes

His fav dish tho was the empanadas by the small shop near your house

After the trip he is now officially in the gc u nd ur cousins have

He was already planning your next trip back

Even though youre halfway through this one

Like babe let's maybe finish this before anything else ok?

Sunghoon

Since hes a bit on the quieter side

Hed be a bit awkward meeting everyone first 

If you're in a filo family yk how they are when you bring a man home oml..

But in the end

He fits in well with your family fr

Also hot take

I think sunghoon loves balut 

I cant remember if any of the enha members have tried it before so forgive me

But i just feel he woul enjoy it the most

Loved the beach trips you and him would take 

He buys the silly “I love the Philippines” shirts

Gets a few little trinkets to display around the house

Became friends with your tourist guide

Now they follow each other on facebook

Based off true events

Talkative s/o and bf who listens

You tell him all about the history of the places you visit

And he looks at you absorbing all the info you tell him

#enhypen #enha #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #enha imagines #heeseung #jay park #park jongseong #jake sim #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #heeseung x reader #jay park x reader #jake sim x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

A Night In Nice

Chapter Two

Based on this ask and made into a separate post due to being two parts

Rated Explicit (for later on)

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Three

Dinner is quiet, nothing that bothers you given Norton is similar to a cat who can enjoy sharing a space with you. That is not to say he does not enjoy how you talk about the day or ask him if he likes the food. Given how you like to season the food you make, some of it can be overpowering for him, especially spicy food. The shepherd’s pie is both soft and gentle in the seasoning, something you hope he enjoys (the man though honestly likes anything you make even if one dish had his mouth on fire).

The chores are divided between the two of you depending on who cooks (you are the one who mostly cooks because the last time he cooked he burnt the food). He gathers the dishes and you put away the table mats and wipe down the table. Then you start going over the kitchen pantry seeing what needs to be picked up.

Norton does the dishes, humming something to himself, and you cannot help but stare at the way his arms are defined by his work shirt, a long sleeve he rolled up as he cleaned. When you first met him, he had muscle but it was not compared to how he is now when he is fed properly. The size difference between the two of you has more than once left you blushing like a little girl.

“(Name),” He speaks up once he is done drying the dishes, body turning to see you look at him and then smile, a closed smile to make him aware he has your attention. “I want to ask you something… Important.” Awkward wording that causes your head to tilt to the side.

“Oh?”

“Listen, um,” He takes a breath in and out, “We have been here for three years now and… I uh…”

You look worried.

“Here!” Pulling out the engagement ring and showing you it, “It ain’t much but…Marry me?”

You stare at him then the ring then him again; the emotions on your face shifting too many times then sadness. “Norton… I don't,”

“She doesn't want you, idiot. Why would she want a broken fool like you!?”

“Think I don’t deserve you.” A whisper he hears then the panic on your face as you wave your wave in front of you realizing how bad that sounds, “I mean–”

Huh? What? The former prospector is confused, “What do you mean?” Wait, how don’t you deserve him? Would it not be the other way around? Given all the things you offered him, the biggest one is moving to a whole other country to live with him.

You sigh and gesture for him to sit down and you take a seat before he does, “First: yes. I will marry you. I love you from the moon and back.” Stating to him quickly to ease him, “However, there are some things,” Tapping your fingers on the table, “You should know about me.”

Norton nods as he sits down while placing the ring on the table. “Alright.”

“Okay,” Taking a deep breath in, “Okay.” Fidgeting with your fingers, “I wasn't always a nurse. I had no legal medical license until a year into the job… After the doctor left.” Easy confession, concerning though you are sure.

Norton knew the owner of the mines cut corners as the bastard saw all of the miners as basically slaves. Cut corners wherever the scum could and pay off whoever inspected the worksite. The doctor leaving after not getting a raise, well, no one batted an eye when you were put in charge.

“Before that… Uh. I used to work in…” Growing quiet as you stare at the pattern of wood on the table.

“Did you kill someone?” His arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against the seat causing it to creek in protest, his legs wide open under the table.

“No, no! Nothing like that!” Assuring him, “Listen, I won’t blame you if this changes your view about me. I should have brought it up sooner,” He raises an eyebrow, “I worked in a brothel.” Saying quickly and in one breath. The silence to follow is one side uneasy. His eyes locked on your face. You squirm a bit fearing what he will say.

“That’s it?” Breaking the silence.

“Yes?” Rubbing the back of your neck unsure if he was asking for more detail or something, “ Was one of the pleasure ladies.” Adding more detail, “Not exactly the woman you could bring home, uh.” It was a dark time in your life, you fault no one who had to take up the occupation in order to survive. You had to in order to feed yourself and keep a roof over your head. The nursing came later when your client, the doctor at the mines, was teaching you medicine at the cost of keeping his cock wet. A “fair trade” allowing you to switch occupations, much to his dislike soon after his replacement.

“Why not?”

“Because you should have a ‘nice’ girl.” Rolling your eyes hating that reason. The doctor was an asshole for telling you that all too often when he was making you choke on his— “No mother wants their son to marry a whore.” Sneering in at yourself.

“That’s stupid,” The response surprised you, “None of that is going to change my mind.”

You are shocked, you should not be given how you gave him a second chance at life-- A better one. The second you got him out of that rumble when you nursed him back to health. Technically, you are harboring a murderer, yet you don’t see it like that.

Your eyes fall to the ring. This small town in France is far from everything that happened back in Golden Cave. The voice remains but even with the rambling it currently is saying, it does become greedy towards you. The one thing they can agree on.

“You got experience between the two of us, so what.” Shrugging while he takes your left hand and rubs your ring finger. “When we started living out here, you told me the past is the past. For us to start from scratch and live how we want.” You did. The moment he was healed, you offered to take him with you. Far from everything that ever hurt either of you. “We can’t change what we did to live, we can however change how we live in this moment.” Trying to find the words to convey how much you mean to him, “Us, together, in that church you go to on Sundays and standing at that altar.”

You blink twice then glance away then back at Norton, “Wow.” He is serious. “Ha, wow, ha.” Laughing as leaned against your chair letting out a sigh of relief but the giggling starts up.

“You sound like a hyena.” Teasing you as the giggling gets worse, “Taking it you are happy?”

“Yes, God, yes!” Grabbing his hands with both of yours, “More than happy really! I want to kiss you until I can’t no longer.”

“Oh,” Amusement, “Just kiss?”

“Norton.” Standing up, “There are many things I want to do for you,” Leaning on the table with a look in your eyes he only caught once when you were patching him up. Your hand touching his arm, “Only if you allow me.”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” Standing up and grabbing the ring before moving around the table to be close to you. “Everything. All of you and all of me.”

#reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #anon ask #idv prospector #identity v x reader #identity v #idv x you #idv reader insert #idv x reader #idv norton #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #norton campbell x you

[gojos-thot-patrol]

what are the guys reactions to being spoiled with a spa day, fave foods, etc?

ooo, interestinggg I like it. ok ok,

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Satoru Gojo

Early in the relationship Gojo is apprehensive. 

He’s not used to being spoiled, he’s used to doing the spoiling. 

But, as he gets more comfortable with the relationship Gojo loves to be spoiled!

He’s babygirl god damn it, and he LOVES to be treated as such! 

Hell yea he wants to go get facials! Yes, lets get manicures, he wants his nails blue 💙

He comes home and you’re making his favorite food? What did he ever do to deserve you?

Now, of course he’s going to repay the favor. You give him a day all about him, he's going to give you a day all about you

But on his day he’s basking in it! 

Honestly it just makes him feel loved and wanted. Like, he can do all of this himself, but the thought of someone else wanting to spoil him is intoxicating for him

Being spoiled makes him feel like you actually listen to him and pay attention, because you have to to know how to spoil him! It means you actually want him for him

Does it make him a little bit emotional? Yes. It’s ok though because he can be vulnerable around you

His love language is gift giving and acts of service, ok? This literally sings to his love language

In conclusion: Yes, Spoil Gojo

Suguru Geto

“No no darling, let me cook for you!” “Let me put a face mask on you, you deserve it” “Let me paint your nails instead, that color looks better on you”

Suguru straight up won't let you spoil him. He’s going to spoil you first.

Genuinely, being showered with unending affection and love makes him feel a little bit uncomfortable. He thinks he doesn’t deserve it

So any of your attempts to spoil him, he’s going to take over to try and spoil you instead

And this DOES. NOT. CHANGE. Even late into the relationship. 

Even once he’s comfortable with you, and knows you love and cherish him. Then there's no need to spoil him because he knows you love him!

He still spoils you though because at this point it’s second nature to him and he thinks it's nice to remind you how much you mean to him.

Yes he knows he’s a hypocrite.

No he doesn’t care.

If you really want to spoil him, just spend time with him. It will honestly have the same effect on him, minus all the other feelings

And maybe make him a spotify playlist

Spoil him with music, that he will let slide.

I feel like so much of my Suguru characterization is rooted in the fact that he loves music but I CAN’T HELP IT!! He reminds me of So Many People I‘ve seen in the scene, I can’t see him as anything other that a music loving metal head LMAO

Kento Nanami

Nanami is not opposed to being spoiled but it has to be on his terms.

What I mean is like, It has to be in small doses so he doesn’t get overwhelmed, not a whole day of spoiling

And if it's something like a really expensive gift, he’d want to talk about it first. He’d rather not have a lot of surprises. 

If you can do that, He’d actually rather like being spoiled

I feel like it makes him feel appreciated

And for almost everything you do for him he does something to match is I promise you lol

Nanami is a caretaker at heart, but that doesn't mean he isn’t willing to be taken care of

The best way to spoil him is with food though

Nanami is a foodie, cook him his favorite meal and it would make him feel really really special

Or sharing a nice bottle of wine with him. That's another way to make him feel special and loved, spoiled if you will

Honestly I don’t think Nanami would necessarily crave or need to be spoiled

But I do think that he very much appreciates it and appreciates you

It just makes him feel all warm and fuzzy

Ryomen Sukuna

Don’t. Don’t do it besties DON’T

Ryomen DOES NOT TRUST being spoiled, AT ALL

If he comes home and finds you cooking his favorite food, he’s going to assume you're poisoning him. “No, You can’t give me a facial, but I can give you one.” You ask to do his nails and he just holds up his black talons like “They’re already done.”

Sukuna has no idea how to love. He thinks love is possession, and as a wicked person he loves wickedly. What that means is everything comes with expectations when it comes to him, nothing is free.

So while you’re just trying to spoil him, he’s trying to find the catch. 

If you give him a gift he’s going to straight up ask “What do you want from me?” 

Back to the love is possession thing, He’s going to think you’re trying to possess him and he is not a fan of that. He owns you! Not the other way around!

He will honestly probably straight up tell you to stop LMAOOO. 

Does he want you to return his affections? Yes absolutely, You would want your pet to behave too. But actively trying to spoil him and bathe him in material affection is not going to do it for him, LMAO

He just reacts so badly. Like, have you ever tried to pet a feral cat? It doesn’t end well. Being spoiled just feels so opposed to his soul.

He’s tried his hand at spoiling you before and found he was actually quite good at it, ngl. Where his words fall short often his small actions and gifts speak louder. But He only really tries to spoil you when he’s trying to apologize for some wrong. If you spoil him, He’s going to think you wronged him somehow my guy 

The best way you can spoil him is by spending time with him. Just being around him and indulging in his, honestly much quieter version of love, that’s as close as you’re getting to spoiling him

Oh, that and just like, indulging him in sexy times, but THAT My dear reader is a set of headcanons for another day!!

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #satoru gojo headcanons #gojo hc #gojo headcannons #jjk headcanons #gojo fluff #suguru geto x reader #geto headcanons #getos hcs #geto fluff #suguru geto #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #nanami hcs #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #sukuna hcs

[vendetta-if]

Hello

Winter break is over... and I'm not handling it well 🥲 (plz wish me luck).

But I was hoping that you could write (if you have time) some fluffy facts about Luka and Jackals relationship to counteract the soul sucking parasite that is school and work.

Thats all, hope you have a wonderful day! Byeeeeeeeee

Hang in there, anon and all the other readers 🥺 Time flies and soon it would hopefully be Summer break. And of course, I’d love to talk more about Luka and Jackal 🤭☺️

Luka was the one who ended up confessing his feelings first. It was not planned whatsoever, and one morning, he was just overwhelmed by his feelings and finally acknowledged it. (You can read the side story about it here [part 1, part 2]), if you haven’t 😉)

Even though Jackal has always been pretty insecure about the glaring scar on his lips, Luka has always been fond of it and tried to make Jackal feel more comfortable with it.

During the early days of them sleeping together, neither of them had ever stayed the night. Most of the time, it was Jackal who came over to Luka’s place instead of the reverse, and one night, Luka just grabbed his arm, stopping him from getting off the bed and leaving. Luka was the first one who asked him to stay and against his better judgement, Jackal relented.

Jackal loves laying his head on Luka’s chest and just listens to his heartbeat. His haemokinesis makes it easier for him to feel and listen to heartbeat and he is sure that he would be able to pick out Luka’s in a crowd of other people.

Jackal enjoys being the small spoon (not that he will ever say it out loud). It makes him feel safe and even though he’s more than capable of defending himself, it just feels nice to finally have someone he trusts so much that he can let his guard down completely.

Luka is on a mission to catch Jackal up on some movies that he likes and the ones that he thinks Jackal will like. Jackal’s not a film buff like Luka, but the thing he enjoys the most out of their movie nights is seeing Luka just talking enthusiastically about the movies. He thinks it’s cute that Luka has a dorky side that only he and some people Luka’s close to are privy of.

Jackal usually enjoys making simple breakfast for both himself and Luka whenever he wakes up earlier than Luka, like tomato and egg stir fry with white rice or steamed egg. Is also the one who first introduced Luka to the joy of eating instant ramen. (Jackal’s okay in cooking, but when he was living by himself, he rarely cooked and mostly just ordered takeouts).

Ever since Jackal spends more and more of his time at Luka’s place, Luka has started to pay more attention to what stuff are in his pantry and fridge. He wants to make sure that whatever food Jackal wants to cook or eat is available. Of course, since Luka’s mostly busy, he has relegated that task mostly to the house butler, Sebastian, who also takes initiative to learn cooking more variety of Asian food, specifically Chinese food.

Not sure whether this is fluffy, but I’m gonna include it here anyway 😂 Jackal likes to give Luka some love nips/nibbles hard enough to draw a little blood before kissing and licking it closed. Luka’s just used to it by now and just considers it Jackal’s version of giving hickies, but without actually leaving marks behind.

#asks #anon ask #char: luka #char: jackal #char: info #lore #if: vendetta #if vendetta #vendetta if #if game #if wip #dashingdon #choicescript