#i bought the first volume a month or two ago and just decided to start it yesterday and IT IS GOOD

[gmkz]

very seriously weighing the pros and cons of staying up all night to finish this book because i’m really enjoying it

[tootiredmotel]

Electricity

Inspired by @ledzeppelinmixtape 's emoji prompt: ⛈

Read on ao3 or below / 2.3k words

It's 11pm and storming biblically when Dean and Cas's apartment goes dark.

"Great," Dean mutters under his breath. "Fan-freaking-tastic."

From somewhere else in the apartment, his roommate asks "did the power go out?"

"What do you think, sunshine?" Dean replies sarcastically.

He has a half-written essay in front of him, but he knows his old-ass computer won't last long unplugged, so he saves the document before shutting it off. He leans back in his chair, stretching for the first time in an hour and running a hand down his face. He actually needed a break from the screen, he realizes, feeling his eyes relax as he rubs them.

The steady rain and strong winds outside make an overwhelming white noise track, interrupted only by thunder that goes from faint and distant to deafening in volume. If Dean wasn't stressed out of his mind and completely exhausted right now, he might actually find this kind of nice.

"It's raining cats and mice out there," he hears Cas say, his voice now in the room.

Dean smiles, still rubbing his eyes with the backs of both his hands. "Cats and dogs, Cas."

"Right. Cats and dogs."

It’s really no use correcting him; the entire animal kingdom could be falling from the sky right now and there wouldn't be much of a difference. The winds are definitely knocking things over, and the streets will certainly be flooded come morning. Dean wonders for how long the university will cancel classes after this (if at all, the heartless bloodsuckers).

A particularly loud clap of thunder startles Dean. He drops his hands from his face and opens his eyes, expecting to see pitch black nothingness, but the room is faintly lit by the flashlight Cas is holding as he rummages through their kitchen drawers. He approaches a minute later and sets a candle down on the small table.

"Smart."

"Thank you, Dean," Cas says, sitting down opposite him. Dean smiles again, this time shaking his head.

If anyone ever asked him to mention one thing he likes about Cas, just one, he'd probably say how genuine Cas is, how he takes everything to heart and speaks from it as well. Dean said just one word, smart, a simple comment on the fact that it occurred to Cas to light a candle instead of wasting the battery of their one flashlight, and Cas genuinely thanked him for the compliment. He's just ridiculously cute in his earnestness.

Cas is trying to light the candle now, but their lighter is tricky. Despite living together in that apartment for a year and a half now Cas has never really gotten the hang of it.

"Here, let me."

Dean means to take the lighter from Cas and do it himself, he really does. That is 100% his intention as he reaches across the table. Except he sees an opportunity, and Dean Michael Winchester is nothing if not smooth.

He wraps his hand around Cas's, gently guiding his fingers until they’re placed just right, and the lighter clicks on with ease. Cas meets his eyes, smiling, and Dean can feel the slightest brush of Cas’s thumb against his hand. It’s a small gesture, but clearly deliberate, and it sends Dean’s heart into overdrive. Cas leans away, puts the lighter aside, and starts leafing through a book he brought. Dean’s heart is still racing as he watches him.

Scratch that first thing. If anyone ever asked him what’s one thing he likes about Cas? His hands. God. Neat nails, slightly calloused palms, and overall larger hands than you’d expect. Cas is an environmental science major and he wants to get a Ph.D. in botany, so of course, there’s a small garden on their fire escape. He tends to those plants every day with more gentleness and care than Dean has ever seen, and Dean loves to watch him, even though he has no idea what Cas is doing with them half the time. He just knows that not a single one of their plants have died under Cas’s care. He names them too.

His attentiveness. That’s another thing Dean might say if anyone ever asked. Cas left to visit his sister Anna last winter break. He left Dean in charge of the plants, three of which died inside the week. (For Dean’s birthday a couple of months later, Cas got him a book. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean keeps it on his nightstand.) Dean went out and bought new ones, but he knew Cas would notice the difference, and he did. He wasn’t mad at Dean though, and he appreciated the effort, and as Dean apologized profusely over and over again, Cas looked at him in the eyes oh-so-softly and told him he was forgiven.

How could Dean possibly forget? If anyone ever asked, he’d say that Cas’s eyes are one of his favorite things about him. One of his favorite things, period. Dean is absolutely mesmerized whenever Cas looks him in the eye, and the guy loves making eye contact, which means that Dean lives in a perpetual smitten daze. He has never seen that shade of blue anywhere else on this earth. Or maybe he just hasn’t been looking, content to get his fill of that blue by staring into Cas’s eyes as much as he gets to on a daily basis.

“Are you alright, Dean?”

Dean blinks himself back to reality. “Hm?”

“You seem… spaced.”

Dean is staring. He’s been staring this whole time. Shit. Crap.

“Yeah, um. Just tired.”

Mr. Smooth, everybody.

“Maybe you should go get some rest. I doubt the power will be back anytime soon.”

Castiel Milton, always looking out for you. It makes Dean melt.

“Yeah, maybe.” I wanna stay here with you, though, he thinks. Instead, because he’s pathetic, he asks “what’re you reading?”

Cas shows him the cover. How Not to Kill Your Houseplant. Dean breaks out in laughter.

“So you’re going into my room and stealing my shit now?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch your Vonneguts.” Cas puts the book aside, an easy smile on his face. “Just wanted something light to pass the time.”

“You done with your homework?”

A soft yawn escapes Cas. “For now.”

“Dude, why not just go to sleep? You look exhausted.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Dean tries to deadpan him. He fails, because around Cas, it’s near impossible for him to not smile.

“Besides, I might be done but you weren’t.”

“And you wanted to keep me company.”

Cas shrugs as if to say I guess, but he does it with a knowing smile. The smile doesn’t falter as he meets Dean’s eyes, and he doesn’t look away when silence settles between them, the only sound being the stormy white noise.

Dean is sure he could drown in that blue and die happy.

Before that train of thought gets away from him again, Dean tears his gaze away and stretches. “We should really go to bed though, I’m not getting any more done tonight,” he says as he stands.

“Of course,” Cas says, but he grabs the book again.

“You not going?”

“I want to finish this chapter.”

The seriousness in his tone makes Dean smile. Again.

“Well, g’night, Cas.”

“Good night, Dean.”

Dean thinks he detects a bit of shakiness in Cas’s voice but decides that he’s probably just tired.

He gets to his room and changes into something comfortable, the first t-shirt and sweatpants he finds as he rummages in the dark. He goes to set his phone on his nightstand and crawl into bed, but in place of the book he keeps there and puts his phone on top of– the book Cas has at the moment– he finds something else.

It’s paper. It’s folded into the form of a book, like one of those youtube craft tutorials with bad music, and it's no bigger than his own palm. The cover is handwritten, and Dean immediately recognizes it as Cas's. He smiles, expecting a prank or joke of some sort, Cas knows how stressed Dean can get with the start of the semester. However, his smile falters as he reads the cover:

How to tell your best friend you’re in love with him.

With a shaky hand, Dean opens the small book. The first page is the only one with any more writing on it, and it reads:

You leave him a note and hope it’s enough.

Dean is storming out of his bedroom (no pun intended) before he knows it. He barely even feels his feet moving, too focused on the pounding in his ears and the dryness in his mouth. He doesn’t go into the living room, not yet; his feet stop at the end of the short hallway and he braces himself against the wall. The room is spinning and he can barely breathe.

“Cas?” He chokes out.

Cas puts the book back down on the table in front of him and interlocks his fingers in front of him. He doesn’t look at Dean– Cas, who makes too much eye contact – and takes a deep breath before saying “yes?”

He’s nervous.

Dean takes a step forward, still keeping one hand on the wall just in case, and holds up the note. “What is this?” he asks, because his brain is just not there with him yet.

Cas stands, still not facing Dean. “Dean, do you know what day it is?”

He’s asking this now???

“September firs–”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Cas isn’t today the–”

“The night we met. Two years ago.”

Dean feels his brain catching up now as the memory starts coming back to him. Cas helps, starting to recount that night.

“Two years ago tonight, I was leaving my night course at the university, and it was raining. Not as bad as this,” –Cas looks out the window and lightning strikes, as if on cue– “but pretty badly, and I was an inexperienced freshman without an umbrella.”

Dean remembers. He was walking Charlie to her dorm when it started drizzling, and it was pouring by the time he made it back to his car. Dean had a night shift at the gas station and was about to head there.

“Two years ago tonight,” Cas continues, “you invited me into your car to shelter me from the rain.”

Dean saw this guy running in the direction of the men’s dorms, which were on the other side of campus. He felt bad, and he had a car, so he opened the passenger door and let him in.

Turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he’d ever laid eyes on. He was a bit awkward, but he had no filter, which made him weirdly funny. He asked about the music playing in the car and listened intently to Dean's rambling. He laughed at his jokes too.

At the end of the five-minute drive, he said his name was Castiel, and Dean asked for his number and saved it as Cas with a thunderstorm emoji. Because even if he didn’t know it yet, Dean was already whipped.

“Two years ago,” Cas says, finally looking up at Dean. His eyes are wide and vulnerable and he looks terrified and Dean can barely stand it. “Two years ago tonight, I started to fall in love with you.”

Dean can’t breathe. His ears are hot and he can’t stop fidgeting with the note in his hand and he can’t breathe.

But his feet start moving again, out of their own volition. They move toward Cas.

“If you don’t feel–” Cas starts, but Dean swallows his words.

Again, Dean’s brain isn’t all there yet, and he doesn’t realize what he’s doing until he’s already in it. He’s grabbing Cas’s face, digging his fingertips into the back of his hair, and the note is forgotten on the table, and thunder rumbles not that far away. He’s darting out his tongue, begging to explore Cas’s mouth as he’s wanted to do since forever, and Cas lets him. He tastes like toothpaste and coffee and honey and Dean never wants to taste anyone else ever again.

Cas is wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist and pressing his entire body against him. It’s making Dean weak in the knees but it’s okay because Cas is almost holding him upright at this point. There’s another clap of thunder, much closer this time, and the lightning probably illuminated the apartment, but it wasn’t enough to make them part. They’re moving and grasping and exploring frantically, and Dean is afraid Cas is going to disappear, or that he’s going to wake up and this will all have been another dream. But no, it’s real, and they’re playing catchup on two years worth of desire and longing and love.

They eventually pull away, breathless and giddy. The only sounds are the rain and the wind. Dean opens his eyes first, needing to see Cas and make sure this is completely, definitely, unequivocally real. Cas is smiling and taking deep breaths, and a weight seems to be lifted off his shoulders. He opens his eyes a second later, and even in the darkness, even with just the faint candlelight, the blue in them seems to shine. And even though there's no power, it feels as if there's electricity crackling in the air around them. It might be the storm.

No. It's the moment. This moment with Cas is what feels electric.

“Come to bed?” Dean asks, feeling brave and going out on a limb. The only way Cas responds is by interlocking his hand into Dean’s and kissing him again.

And after tonight, for the rest of his life, if anyone ever asks him “what’s one thing you love about Cas?” Dean won’t be able to narrow down an answer.

He’ll just say: “Everything.”

[katwritessometimes]

In The Dark

Shadow Monster Aizawa x Reader

A collab piece for @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Citrus Dome Server

Read the other entries HERE

Warnings: somnophilia, dub-con, non-con, tetraphilia eeee tentaicles kind of? Monster fucking, manipulation, tiny little sprinkling of yandere if you squint. 

5kish words

 @bobawithpomegranate ​ & @miscellaneous-bnha ​ thanks for keeping me from jumping off a bridge. This was surprisingly very challenging to write so i hope you guys enjoy.

The sight of your grandmother’s old home brought comfort into your heart in a way nothing else ever could. It had taken much longer than you would have liked to get here, after almost a year of fighting with the family. Legal battles over property and inheritance, you'd finally been handed the keys to the beautiful old Victorian home your grandmother had loved so much. The outside was weathered but held strong, you were sure the inside would be worse after being empty and neglected for so long. With a sigh, you picked up the cleaning supplies you'd brought with you and made your way inside the house. 

You don't notice it at first,

 He’d noticed you the second you walked onto the porch. 

Singing softly to yourself, you make your way through the old house, flipping lights on to make sure the electricity works. Opening up windows and doors to air the dusty old place out. Except once you set your mind to cleaning it becomes blatantly obvious. The house isn't dusty, the house is fairly clean, no dust having settled anywhere, no cobwebs hanging in abandoned corners. You think for a second maybe the lawyer hired someone to come clean before handing over the keys, but you don't recall her mentioning anything like that. 

With a shrug determined to do some light cleaning anyway, you spend the day unpacking some of the stuff you brought and lightly cleaning as you went. The first time you notice it it’s dark out, dim lights illuminating the house. Christ, why did grandma have such shitty lightbulbs in, you’d think an older woman would want brighter lights as her vision faded. The thought slips from you when you hear something crash onto the floor behind you. You turn quickly, something flinting in the corner of your eye as you turn, heart rate spiking, and you freeze. You were sure you saw something going up the stairs. 

Taking a breath in an attempt to calm your breathing, you pick up the painting that had somehow been knocked off its mount. A creaking coming from the second floor has your head snap in that direction. It’s an old house, you chant in your head trying to not let yourself get worked up. You don’t realize you're making your way up the stairs until the old wood creaks loudly under your weight. Your attention is drawn to your grandmother’s room, the only place you haven't been in just yet. You dig around your pocket for the master key that gave you access into the main bedroom, worried that maybe this is where all the dust and cobwebs had scampered off too. You chuckle to yourself at that and it settles your nerves a little, though you can't pinpoint why you're suddenly nervous. 

Much to your surprise, your grandmother’s old bedroom was just as clean as the rest of the house had been, even though no one should have been able to access it. You almost miss the small box sitting on her bed if not for something skittering in the corner of your eyes turning your attention to it. You do miss the shadow that slinks out behind you pausing at the doorway to watch you for a second. You reach out for the ornate box, a letter sitting on top of it with your name written neatly on the front. But before your fingers can make contact with it, the door behind you slams loudly. You jump at the sound, hands coming up to clutch at your chest, curses spilling from your lips as you turn to see the door is closed now. 

“Fucking old house” You yell aloud unable to control your volume after having been spooked. Your yelling makes you miss the deep chuckle that rings out in the air. 

Cute

You pout upset that you’d let yourself be so easily spooked like that. Running a hand through your hair you turn your attention back to the small box and letter picking up both items before heading out of the bedroom. You look back one last time, unsure if you felt ready to disturb your grandmother’s space just yet. Opting to leave it as it was, if only for a little while longer. 

You probably should have read the letter too, things would have made sense much quicker if you had. 

Two weeks of dusting and cleaning out old boxes before you decided it was time to begin moving your things into the house. It had been slightly odd, something for sure was off about the house but you tried not to think about it too much. Handling most of the weird mishaps in the house with a shrug and no real inclination to question it. The last thing that came with you into the new house was your two cats. A sleek black tom who loves you and only you, and a younger larger orange tom who’s all around very friendly. You hate to say you notice a shift in the house when the cats finally settle. Both the boys took to the house as if they’d always been there, something you were struggling with. It was their presence that made it so that you could no longer pretend like you didn’t see the shadows moving. 

Both cats who’d always preferred lazing in sun rays suddenly preferred the dark corners of the living room over the sunny rays leaking in through the large bay window in the house. Demanding meow’s typically indicative of wanting attention, were used in dark corners of the house. Directed at something you couldn’t see. You’d be able to ignore the behavior, except every time you went looking for them when they called. 

You’d find them happily purring, rubbing up against something that wasn't there in the darkness, as if already being given the attention they were asking for. It was creepy, weird, should have creeped you out. But you’d been raised to have a healthy fear and respect towards things you couldn't understand but were not outright malicious. So you tried not to let it bother you too much, don't question the way shadows seem to move. Or when the cats' purr and flop on their backs for tummy scratches in the dark corners of the house.

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The dreams had begun the first night at the house, an all-encompassing warmth that lazily spreads throughout your whole body. Contrasted by cold hands caressing your skin, a deep rich voice whispering dirty things in your ear and working you up to a feverish pitch. 

“Pretty little mouse wandering into my house”  the voice coos in your ear.

And then you’re awake, panting heavily, a groan spilling past your lips as you toss and turn a little in your bed. 

“Fuck.” you whimper out, bringing your arm up over your face as you try and catch your breath. 

 You can’t remember exactly what you dreamt about, only the deep voice murmuring nothings in your ear and cold fingers playing with your folds. You let out an exasperated sigh squirming in bed frustration seeping into your bones. When was the last time you had a dream like that, you couldn't remember? When was the last time you’d been worked up like this, and from a dream no less? You let out a frustrated huff turning and burying your face in the pillow. You could have sworn you heard a deep chuckle ring out. 

They get more detailed, more vivid the longer you're at the house you're almost used to waking up panting and sweaty. The feeling of cool silky tendrils exploring your body lingering for a bit before slinking off as you become more alert. Groggily whining at being awake after dreaming such filthy things. The feeling of your wetness soaking through your panties frustrating you. Always waking up right before the best part of the dream, so you throw the blankets off of yourself in a huff. Spreading your legs wide you trail your fingers over the lingering sensation of someone else’s touch. 

It drives him wild.

Aizawa was on the edge of insanity when you showed up at the old house. A year of solitude will do that to you, he'd been beyond madness when the old lady bought the house all those years ago. Though she's brought him back with a soft kindness only a grandmother could offer.

You,

You brought a clarity to his mind in a different way. Every little curse, every time you scold the house when something disappears. Every time you touched yourself to thoughts of him, to the lingering feeling of his tendrils and hands on you. Aizawa was able to pull himself little by little out of the pit insanity and loneliness had pulled him into. You were so easy too, subconsciously letting the shadow creature infect every ounce of your being. He'd managed to seep into your dreams easily enough, a lonely pent up girl. He liked how you squirmed in your sleep. 

Desperate little whimpers spilling from your lips as his cool fingers explore your body. It was addicting, the way your warmth spread through him with every touch, every explorative lick of your body lighting a fire deep in Aizawa's belly. 

“Pretty little thing aren't you.” Aizawa coos in your ear, and you always react so beautifully to his voice. Your sleeping body responding with a soft whimper, he lets his tendrils explore every inch of you. Slipping underneath the silk PJ top and skimpy little shorts you always wore to bed. You were practically offering yourself up to him each and every night. How could he ever resist when your body reacted like this to his every touch. He’d started slowly at first, only manifesting his tendrils to creep along your body as you slept. 

Once you’d been there for a few months he didn’t even have to worry about you waking up. Having invaded your dreams enough to be able to keep you in a nice deep sleep while he had his way with you. Settling himself between your legs fully manifested, never happier to have this solid form as when he's trailing large callus palms up to your soft legs. It’s so easy, really he can’t help himself, your wetness quickly soaking through your panties as cold fingers rub at your clit. Heady little moans spilling from your sleeping frame and it makes him giddy, trailing a large hand up and under your shirt. Pressing against the soft skin of your stomach and trailing up to gently squeeze at your breasts. Aizawa loves the way your body reacts to him, whimpering and arching against his touch. He shifts then, leaning over your sleeping body, caging your head between his hands, leaning down to nuzzle his nose into your hair.

Can’t help himself as he trails open mouth kisses down your neck, tangling his fingers through your hair, you lean into his touch. A soft whimper of please slips through your lips and Aizawa can barely contain himself as his hips buck against your core. 

“Begging for me in your sleep, sweet girl, already knows who she belongs to. Don’t you.”  

You mewl, a soft pretty sound that Aizawa plays in his head over and over for days. Humping into your soaked panty-clad pussy desperately. His tendrils emerging from his back of their own accord, stroking and rubbing up against you as he mindlessly pleasures himself against your unconscious frame. Your little pants and moans edging him on until he's groaning against your neck, spilling himself onto your cute little silk PJ shorts. Aizawa lets himself bask in the feeling of your warmth against him littering your face in kisses. 

“My good girl.” 

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You conclude something is living in the house one night during an intense thunderstorm. Living in a house with some creature that may or may not try to eat you? Cool fine, no worries. But a thunderstorm? The loud unpredictable booms that tear through the air make you jump every single time without fail. 

You flinch, once again roused by a loud clap of thunder and a harsh flash of lightning. An involuntary whimper slipping past your lips as you curl up into a ball on the bed doing your best to block out the noise of the raging storm. 

You can feel it when a cool blanket envelopes you, a shift in the air that muffles all of the intense noise. The feeling of something carding its fingers through your hair comes next, ever so lightly scratching at your scalp. “It’s just a storm” A deep voice that seems to come from all around whispers and a strange comfort washes over you as your body begins to relax. You're half asleep, it's easy to lean into the gentle caress when you're not quite awake. Easy to ignore the feeling of tendrils creeping across your legs and stomach. You can't help but feel slightly comforted by them in your half-asleep state. 

 An exceptionally loud clap of thunder jolts you into a more awake state and you shoot up in bed. The hazy fog that was keeping you calm dispelling and you whimper as the comfort leaves you. “Please don't leave” you whisper aloud unsure to who or why you even spoke. A deep voice coos at you as thunderclaps outside again and you tremble. A yelp slips past your lips and your hands reach out towards the deep voice as if on instinct. Something safe that will soothe you if only you can reach out and touch it.

 A chuckle thick like honey floats into your ears and your hands meet something soft. You're groggy, half asleep, and confident you're just imagining things, but that doesn't take away from the comfort. It feels like a million different arms wrap around you, pulling you in towards something solid and the hazy fog returns your body relaxing as the tendrils tighten almost uncomfortably around you. Wrapping you up in a cocoon that feels safe and secure, the thunderstorm outside fading into the background and all you can concentrate on is the deep voice mumbling nothings in your ear. 

It's in the days after the storm when you can still hear his deep voice in your ears and feel his warm touch lingering on your body. That you remember the letter and box your grandmother had left you. You feel a little stupid for not thinking of reading them earlier, having been caught up in the whirlwind of moving you'd put them off to the side and almost forgotten entirely about them 

To my lovely granddaughter, 

If you’re reading this then it means you've agreed to the stipulations I included for ownership of the house. This place is special, and if you take care of the house its caretaker will return the favor. Be patient with him, it takes him a little while to warm up but he won't hurt you. I promise I haven't gone crazy with old age. Allow yourself to be open to the things in life we can’t explain. I hope the house is as good to you as it was to me in my old age. 

It doesn’t explain much, but coming from a family that believed in the supernatural made it so that your grandmother's cryptic words didn't freak you out as much as they should have. They made you feel better actually, soothed the part of you that was nervous you might be going crazy. The small box held a pendant, a small but brilliant ruby ordaining the center of it delicate but practical enough for daily wear. You can't help but slip it on and admire the pretty jewel. 

Aizawa is more active after that, the haze in his mind settles when he sees you wearing his necklace. You notice it too, the shadows in the house somehow softening, almost playful. He likes to move your things around so he can hear you huff in frustration. Every curse every time you yell at him, the fog in his mind clears.

He gets bolder around the house, slowly but surely, starts moving things around more obviously. Enjoys making you jump by slithering his tendrils across your ankles while you're cooking. Or shutting off the lights while you shower just to hear your cute little yelp. He likes that you’re somehow not scared of his presence but still easily spooked overall. 

“That foundation was $50 and if it's not back in my makeup bag when I come back I swear to god I'll keep all the lights on for a week.” You see the shadow swirl in the corner of the bathroom, and you know it's smiling at you. You roll your eyes but the next morning your foundation is sitting right on the bathroom sink. 

You begin to catch glimpses of it, of him. As if your attention is helping him manifest fully after a long time of being nothing but a wisp of smoke. Most obvious when your eyes scan the house and you can almost swear a man is petting one of your cats. Only to double back and see your cat rolling over against a dark corner of the room. You almost stop feeling uneasy, almost. 

It all comes to head on a night where sleep seems unreachable. You were frustrated, panting, skin warm, and sticky with sweat as your fingers skillfully circled your clit but no relief came. You let out a frustrated ‘fuck’ throwing your head back onto the pillow and tossing a hand over your face. You’d been pent up for a while now, the weird lewd dreams working you up but never getting you anywhere. You do your best to relax into the bed, accepting defeat with a groan and hoping sleep overtakes you quickly. 

The feeling of something wisping against your ankles brings you back from the edge of sleep. Cool ever so soft touches trail up your legs, you shiver at the cold sensation against your still warm and sweaty skin. Your eyes flutter open but you're only met with black, body tensing a little as cold tendrils stroke your face. 

“You’re ok little one.” The voice is deep against your ear, a cold forked tongue licking up the side of your cheek. “I’ve got you” The same soothing voice you’d heard during the thunderstorm. Except for this time, it's laced with something other than softness. “I’ve been watching you, little human. Spreading yourself open shamelessly, playing with that pretty pussy out in the open. Pretending like you didn’t know I was here to watch.” Aizawa coos.

You whimper at the words, mist curling around you as a dark chuckle fills the room. “Tease” he snarls in your ear and you can’t help yourself as your hips buck up at the sound. Something solid forms between your legs, the soft smooth thing wraps around your ankles assisting in spreading your legs out wide. The deep voice tsks against your ear, cold skin and stubble rubbing against your cheek “You could at least pretend like you're not enjoying this.” 

Your face flushes as he teases you, the sensation of his foreign appendages exploring your body exciting you in a way you can't quite place. They’re not hands that much you can tell, you can distinguish his hands by the callus texture as he strokes a thumb over one of your nipples. Tweaking at it gently until it perks against his fingers. 

“Aren’t you scared little mouse” you can feel his tongue lapping at your neck, sharp teeth pricking the skin there and you let out a whimper. Managing only to shake your head, arching your chest up into his touch as he plays with you. “Desperate little human, willing to take just about anything if it means being satisfied.” You choke out a protest but can’t help the soft moan that bubbles out of your mouth as Aizawa presses his thigh against your sex. He coos into your ear when you begin to hump him mindlessly. 

“Such simple little creatures humans. Driven by desire, and willing to fuck just about anything aren't you little one?” You shake your head in protest, but the excitement pooling in your belly betrays you. Aizawa chuckles and pulls away from you a little, tendrils pooling from him and eagerly joining the fray. The limbs have a mind of their own, each appendage going about playing with you in different ways. One replaces his hands, squeezing and pinching at your breasts. Another brings your hands up and holds them above you keeping you still with minimal effort. A few others explore your body and Aizawa watches, as one of his appendages eagerly begins tugging aside your cute little PJ bottoms. 

You whine out a “No” as the cold air hits your soaked entrance “That's not what your pretty little pussy is telling me.” Aizawa chuckles watching as the tendrils gather your juices up, gently circling your clit and parting your folds. “Look at you, soaked and ready for me aren't you.” His hand replaces the tendril and you feel cold fingers press into your heat. Your pussy clenches at the intrusion but you buck into him automatically. Already worked up from playing with yourself before, your body betrays you as your mind hazes and all you can think about is pleasure. 

“P-Please” You choke out tugging against the restraints that only tighten when you struggle. Aizawa cocks an eyebrow up at you as he leans down, nuzzling at your inner thigh. Tongue lapping at the juices running down between your supple ass. He hums when you beg a smile tugging at his lips, his fog finally taking hold of you. 

“What was that little mouse? Did you say something” He accentuates his words with another finger and you cry out as he finger fucks you. His tongue lazily licking at the edges of your pussy and then up to rub at your clit. You whine, hips bucking up and Aizawa sighs another tendril coming to wrap around your waist and pins you to the bed. 

“Be still, or I'll leave you here.” You freeze at that babbling for him not to leave you and settle your hips. The appendage keeps you still squeezing you just a little too tight. 

“That's a good girl.” Aizawa hums, turning his attention back to your core. “You look so pretty like this baby girl, spread out for me to do whatever I want. You just keep giving me those pretty little noises and I'll make you feel good, okay?” You moan in response and Aizawa clicks his tongue, the tendril circling your stomach squeezing until it hurts. “Let me hear you say it.” Aizawa snarls. 

You gasp as pain seeps into your pleasure “Yes, please I'll be good.” The pressure against your sides loosens and you're able to breathe again panting softly as the pain begins to fade. Aizawa doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them up for a taste. He hums satisfied and then he's moving your body. Positioning you onto your stomach, cold hands lifting your ass as he positions you just how he wants. His tendrils keep your arms together in front of you, stripping you of your PJs and keeping your legs spread just enough to give Aizawa the perfect view of your ass and dripping pussy. A smile, just a bit too wide spills over his lips as he settles himself between your legs. Aizawa is hard, painfully so but he takes his time sliding a hand over the curve of your asscheeks. Trailing down your back and up to the back of your neck, squeezing gently before trailing back again.

 With a hum, he lazily strokes your dripping folds, cooing as you press your ass back into him wiggling a little desperate for him to fill you. A harsh smack rings out as his palm connects with your ass “Patience little mouse.” He snarls leaning down to the opposite cheek and biting down just a little too hard. You cry out, tears pooling in your eyes and you bury your head into the pillow. Mind overcome by a lustful haze, you just want him to fuck you already. 

Your wish comes soon enough when you feel something thick prodding at your entrance. You gasp as the tip of Aizawa’s cock penetrates you, gasp turns into a desperate moan as he presses into you little by little. He lets out a deep guttural moan of his own as your warmth encircles him, greedily squeezing his cock. Your warmth is addicting and it doesn’t take too long for Aizawa to start bucking into you. He sets a brutal pace, the appendages holding your waist upkeep you still, nice and steady for him to fuck into while his hands explore your body. 

You curse desperate little moans and obscenities leaving your lips as he fucks into you. His cock stretches you to your limits, almost painful as the creature fucks into you desperately. There's a shift, and you feel his hands come up to your middle, pulling you up against his chest as he fucks you. You feel his face nuzzle against your cheek as one of his hands coming to rest against your belly as he fucks you. You hands are suddenly free and you reach up, feeling your fingers pass through a cool mist, before finding something solid. Soft wisps of something, that wrap around your fingers, rolling over them in waves as you entwine them into what you assume is his hair. 

“Such a good girl, you take me so well darling. Letting me fuck into your womb like this.” Aizawa presses his hand against your stomach pushing back on himself as he becomes desperate. 

“Wanna see” The words are a desperate whine and you don't even really register when you say them. Aizawa sputters a little pace wavering at your words. His fingers brush against the delicate necklace you wear his necklace, and for a second his mind clears. But you whimper a desperate sound that breaks whatever sliver clarity he'd found and a darkness takes over his features again. His fingers abandon the necklace and trail up to your neck fingers wrapping around it then squeezing.

“What was that you little slut.” He snarls in your ear and you can't help yourself as you cry out 

“Please, wanna see you, wanna watch your cock fuck into me.” Your face flushes as you admit this out loud. A growl coming from the man, thing currently fucking your brains out and you can't do anything but tug at his hair and lean into him further as he uses you. Aizawa stills a little, and you whine desperately doing your best to bounce on his cock as he stops moving. Suddenly you can see again and he's fucking into you, go to say something but you see it, a black wispy tentacle like thing appears in front of your face. Aizawa’s hand that was wrapped snugly around your neck comes up to squeeze your cheeks and the appendage gives you a cheeky little wave before filling your mouth. 

“Wanna watch yourself get stuffed, fine, we'll use all of your cute little holes. How does that sound little one.” You whine around the tentacle and then he’s picking up his pace. Hand squeezing your throat so he can feel it at his tendril fucks into your neck, you take him so well. This is it the broken part of his brain hisses she's the one. Aizawa shakes his head, the feeling of your fingers in his hair grounding him for a moment and presses your body back into the mattress. 

His movements turn erratic as he fucks into your overwhelmingly tight little pussy. Pretty little moans spilling from you as he fucks you and his tentacles play with your clit and throat. You take him so well, respond so beautifully to his touch, you weren't scared and accepted your place quickly. He brings his fingers up to the little nub between your legs, replacing his tendrils and pressing fast little circles against your already abused clit. It doesn't take long after that, your body presses into the mattress, a tentacle fucking your throat, and some creature’s cock kissing at your cervix the thought alone is too much. But you spill over when Aizawa’s teeth sink into your neck, your body spasming as your orgasm bubbles over. 

Aizawa grunts from above you, your body going limp as he bites into you fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own using your spent body for his own pleasure. He spills in you soon after, his mind just a little bit hazy. Ever so gently Aizawa pulls his tendril out of your mouth, drool, and his own slick trailing from your mouth as he does so. He coos as you whimper, pressing a hand over your ass to admire the way your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Humping into you a few more times before he pulls away completely. He debates for a moment letting himself disappear back into the shadows, but he hasn't been this real, this solid in so long. 

Your whimpering slices through his thoughts and before he can stop you, you're on your back looking up at him. Instinct makes him retract all of his extra limbs, making himself look half normal minus the wisps of hair that always seem to move on their own. You blink up at him for a moment body sore but satisfied and you bring your arms up to him. Aizawa is unsure, body flickering into shadows but you speak up before he can fully dissipate. 

“Stay with me” You manage to croak out, throat a little sore from the abuse you endured. You weren’t scared of him, if anything he was handsome and he'd fucked you till you were satisfied. You see the hint of hesitation in his eyes but you crinkle your nose and tilt your head cutely making grabby hands at him and he can’t help himself. 

Aizawa lays down and you curl into him on instinct, his body now warm against yours. Your fingers find their way up to his hair, giggling as the locks lace themselves with your fingers. He brushes some of your hair back and you whine as he touches at your neck. Small bits of blood pooling where he’d sunk his teeth into you. His split tongue peaks out automatically, licking it up and gently lapping at the tender spot on your neck as you whimper. 

“I get a little nuts when I'm on my own.” it's an apology, and you don’t think about why you feel safe in his arms, or why you don't question the creature laying with you, why you're not scared. Instead, you hum softly, nuzzling yourself into the crook of his neck as Aizawa lazily runs a steadily cooling hand down your back. 

“It's ok, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere.” You hear yourself say and he hums into your hair acknowledging your words. A twisted smile creeping its way onto his lips as his grip tightens around you. The part of Shouta that’s fallen too deep into insanity to come back fully snickers at your words. 

As if you had a choice. 

​

Tags:

@bbygirlpastel @thewheezingwyvern

[goodgirlssayiloveyoutoo]

2/31

Danny Pino is stupid hot and as Angela’s oldest brother Gabriel Lopez I really see this going well for Lucy. Cheers to @crose84​ for pointing out in their post today that Lucy definitely has a type and it seems to be older and divorced. I ran with that. I also just really want Nyla, Angela and Lucy to be real friends. Plus Angela and Nyla would 100% be on the get Lucy laid brigade. Also in this Tamara is away for the weekend okay?? 

_______________________________________________________________________

The only reason Lucy decides to make an appearance at Nolan’s soon to be annual Holiday bash is because he was so damn excited about it and honestly, she really wasn’t ready to be alone over the holidays. So she puts on a a festive dress and forces Nyla to join her. The first thing she does upon arrival is grab a full bottle of red wine from the serve-yourself-bar (Nolan’s first mistake of the night, really) and raises an eyebrow at Nyla who nods.

Dodging the other party goers, the two woman immeditely sequestered themselves to a corner of the room with the commandeered bottle, and Nyla efficiently popped the cork pouring large glasses for the both of them. 

“So I know why I’m drinking tonight, what’s your reason?” Nyla asks after they cheers and both take far too long of a sip. 

“Too many to count.” 

Lucy thinks of the gifts she bought for Jackson months ago hidden in the back of her closet, she thinks of the presents she will be mailing to her parents instead of delivering in person, and she really tries not to think about Tim across the room with his hand on Ashley’s lower back.  

The wine helps. 

“Feel that.” Nyla lets out a big sigh and takes another gulp, “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Not tonight.”

Nyla nods slowly, and offers Lucy a soft understanding smile, “Maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow.” Lucy returns the smile as best she can, and the other woman nudges her shoulder in a show of support. 

Everyone seems to be in a festive mood, and it makes Lucy happy to see her people happy even if she didn’t feel up to partaking in it. Nolan and Aaron are sitting on the couch, laughing and watching Smitty who had clearly already had too much eggnog and was trying to start a dance floor while Grey turned up the volume on the Christmas carols. 

It’s bittersweet without Jackson, and it makes Lucy’s heart ache in a particularly painful type of way. She takes a bigger sip of her wine, she just wants to have fun tonight and forget about everything else. She doesn’t think the wine is going to cut it but John didn’t supply any tequila. 

Nyla’s voice shakes her out of her thoughts, “Damn, who is that?” 

“Who?” 

The who is answered very quickly, because behind Angela, Wesley and Baby Jack making their grand appearance is an extremely handsome man Lucy has never seen before who is carrying the baby’s diaper bag, and it’s an ode to his attractiveness that it does absolutely nothing to dampen it. 

“Jesus, that man is fine.” Whistles Nyla and Lucy can’t help but laugh, it feels good to be gossiping in the corner over a glass of wine like they’re normal people.

“He really is.” 

Angela clocks them hiding in the corner, immediately hands the baby to her husband and grabs an empty glass on her way over to the two woman. “Top me up please ASAP, I’ve already pumped and I’m looking to get tipsy.” 

Lucy nods and tips the bottle into her glass, giving her a more than generous pour, “Yes m’am.” 

“Who is that man with Wesley that you brought in?” Nyla asks, as Angela takes a large sip. 

Angela laughs, “That’s my oldest brother Gabriel, he’s recently divorced and I felt like he could do with a night out with some new people.” 

Lucy watches the man in question over her wine glass, he’s undoubtedly attractive but that doesn’t really surprise her, the Lopez’s have good genes. 

Nyla smirks and nudges Lucy, “Hey Lucy, he’s just your type, older and divorced.” 

Angela lets out a loud laugh and Lucy rolls her eyes but can’t help but laugh with them, “Oh my god, shut up. I knew it was a mistake to tell you two about Nolan. It was in the academy! And you two got me drunk on wine to reveal all my secrets!” 

Angela raises a knowing eyebrow, “I don’t think she was just talking about Nolan.” 

Lucy pointedly ignores her even though she knows what Lopez is none to subtly hinting at. Lucy having any sort of feelings or ideas around Tim has never been mentioned with our without wine, nor will they ever be. That is firmly hidden away in the deep compartments of her brain that only arise in sleep and her weaker moments . 

Angela finishes her glass and holds it to Nyla for a refill before taking a scan of the room and her eyes lighting up at whatever she sees, “Lucy, can you go grab me a snack from the food table?” 

Lucy turns towards the table in question and sees Gabriel there holding Jack and perusing the food selection. “Seriously? You’re not even trying to be subtle about this.”

“Yep. You’re not going to deny a new mother sustenance are you?” 

Lucy rolls her eyes and lets out a huff before placing her wine glass down,  “Of course not.” 

She pulls her high pony a little tighter and makes her way over, standing next to Angela’s brother and waving her fingers in baby Jack’s direction cooing at him, “Hi cutie, how are you doing?”

Gabriel looks up from the charcuterie spread and grins at her, “That’s forward.” 

Lucy lets out a loud laugh, “Don’t get cocky, you know I was talking to Jack.” 

“Well, maybe Jack can introduce me to the pretty lady.” 

The boy in question simply looks between the two of them and blows a raspberry and they both laugh at his antics. He reaches for Lucy and Gabriel easily hands him over and once in Lucy’s arms, Jack immediately tries to reach for one of her hoops.

She shifts Jack to rest on one of her hips and holds out a hand, which he takes in his larger one, “Lucy, I work with Angela.” 

“I’m Gabe. My sister told me about you.” 

 “I bet she did.” 

“Angela’s a meddler. Just like my mother.” 

“She is.” Lucy spares a glance in Angela’s direction and sees her and Nyla intently watching them so she stick out her tongue at them. Jack copies her and Lucy laughs again, Gabe joins in the laughter and her heart already feels a little lighter. 

Gabe tickles Jack’s side and offers another smile to Lucy, they’re easily won and there is something that feels so simple about it all, “She also has good instincts.” 

Lucy isn’t sure where he’s going with that but she’s intrigued enough to find out, “She does. Hell of a detective.” 

Gabe shuffles his feet a little and for the first time that night he looks a little nervous (but still so so handsome), “Angela also told me she thought we would hit it off.” 

Lucy can’t help the wide smile nor the blush that crosses her face, “So far, so good.” 

“How about I return this child to his parents and me and you go get a drink somewhere besides this party?” 

It’s forward and far too quick but Lucy had been wanting to leave the party the moment she arrived and leaving with an insanely attractive man feels on the right side of reckless, “What did you have in mind?” 

“I know this really great tequila bar around the corner, if you’re interested.” 

If Gabe hadn’t already charmed her before, that would have done it. 

Still, Lucy can’t help but be unsure, “You don’t want to stay? You only just arrived?” 

Gabe shrugs, his smile bordering on cocky and it does things to Lucy, “Honestly, I only came because Angela said she would introduce me to you.” 

The blush that Lucy thought she had tempered erupts full force at his honesty, and she bites her lip, far too pleased with his attention, “Alright, that sounds perfect, let me deliver this snack to your sister, you give Jack back to Wesley and I’ll meet you at the door.” 

“Perfect.” 

Lucy turns on her heel with a plate of cheese and cured meat, dropping it beside Angela and grabbing her coat. Nyla and Angela are watching her with poorly disguised smirks covering their faces and she wills the blush away. 

“So…How’d that go?” Angela asks, looking far too pleased with herself. 

Lucy laughs and tosses her long ponytail over her shoulder as she grabs her purse, and downs the rest of her wine, “I’m leaving. Don’t wait up.” 

The catcalls the two women make as Lucy walks away draws the attention of the room and she shakes her head, losing all hope at a subtle exit. Tim makes eye contact with her across the room and raises his eyebrows in question and she quickly looks away from him, because honestly it’s the last damn thing she needs. That and he’s still glued to Ashley’s side. 

Lucy meets Gabe at the door, and he’s standing there in his black pea coat, dark hair and dark eyes and he’s so fucking sexy she almost can’t believe it. So she makes a decision. 

They step out together into the cooler night air on Nolan’s veranda and Lucy takes the chance to lean in closer to Gabe’s personal space, looking up at him through her eyelashes and running a hand across his lapels, “I’ve got tequila at my place.” 

Lucy doesn’t miss how his eyes darken and his breath speeds up and she certainly doesn’t miss the sweep of his heated gaze up and down her body, Gabe smiles and grabs her hand, “Lead the way.” 

[ragingbookdragon]

You Light The Spark In My Bonfire Heart

Kyle Rayner x Batbro One-Shot

Word Count: 2.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I HAVEN'T HAD ANY WIFI ALL DAY BUT NOW I DO AND this is my new obsession and pair and you can tear it from my cold dead hands. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Kyle had an easy morning routine: get up, eat breakfast, brush teeth, workout, shower, drink protein shake, and draw. It was simple and effective, and helped him maintain a sense of normalcy that he didn’t always have when he was up in space. He typically started out with sketching small things, mostly faces and limbs from memory, the occasional suit redesign, then he’d get into the bigger works, drawing comic panels and the commissions he had. And while Kyle loved to be up in space, to be a Green Lantern, drawing felt like coming home to him, like it was the natural state. That being said, he didn’t love being interrupted when he was in the middle of something important—it was bad for the groove.

***

As the second round of knocking sounded on his door, Kyle grunted and stood from his desk, padding through the hallway to his front door; he flicked the lock and pulled open the door, surprise etching across his face when he saw the eldest Wayne leaning against the door frame—rather cockily, Kyle added, because the soldier’s arm was propped on the frame, the other stuck in the side-pocket of his dark tactical bomber jacket.

“Good morning, Kyle,” he greeted with a smirk. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The Lantern blinked, shaking his head. “Uh, no, you’re not, (Y/N).” he looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Had some business to take care of for my dad, and since I was in the area, I figured I’d drop by and see if you wanted to get some lunch with me.”

Kyle took a moment to lean out the doorway slightly, looking down the stretched hallway. “How’d you know where I live?”

“Please, a magician never reveals his secrets,” he deflected coolly, gazing at Kyle. “What do you say? Wanna get some lunch? I know a really good sports bar that serves great food.”

He looked back at (Y/N) and smiled. “Yeah. Let me go get dressed.”

The soldier merely winked in return and with fumbling hands, Kyle managed to shut the door before his cheeks burst into flames, hurrying back to his bedroom to pull together an outfit that would impress the man.

***

Kyle almost dropped to his knees when he saw the car parked outside his apartment building, and (Y/N) knew it too, because he chirped, “Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

He nodded dumbly. “Is this a McLaren 720S?”

“Mhm.” He opened the doors and slid into the driver’s seat, looking through the passenger door. “Coming?”

“Am I ever,” Kyle breathed, climbing into the seat, immediately running his hands along the dashboard and seat. “I’m in love.”

“Wait till you hear her purr,” (Y/N) said, closing the doors, and pushing the ignition. The sports car roared to life and he grinned at the way Kyle’s face melted. “Yeah, she’s a beauty.” He put the car in drive and looked through the side mirror, then pulled out onto the street.

“Is this one of your dad’s cars?”

“Nah, I bought this for myself a couple months ago.” He pulled the sunglasses from his t-shirt and put them on. “This and an Audi TT.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “Jesus, you billionaires live it up, don’t you?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Hey, I live life in the fast lane. Might as well drive in it too.” He pushed a button on the touch screen and music filtered through the speakers, and Kyle’s face pinched in confusion. “What?”

“This isn’t—James Blunt isn’t the music I figured you’d play.”

“What’d you think I’d be listening too? Rock?” he chuckled, turning the volume down a bit. “Don’t get me wrong, I listen to all kinds of rock music, but I figured you’d want something easy rather than head-bang your brains out rock.” (Y/N) stopped at a red light and glanced over. “You can look through the artists on my phone if you want.”

Kyle shook his head, relaxing into the seat as the melody flowed through him. “No, I like this artist.” The soldier merely smiled in return, pressing the gas pedal again, and Kyle suddenly remembered something. “Speaking of artist, I saw the canvas in your bedroom the other day. Do you draw?”

(Y/N) hummed. “Not like you. It’s more of a pastime than a lifestyle.”

“You’re good at it. You’re painting your family in their suits. Details and designs included.” The artist regarded him with impression. “That takes skill.”

“I’d like to think I just have a steady hand and a lot of patience for stressful tasks.” (Y/N) turned the wheel, coming up behind a line of cars. “It’s an easy way for me to relax and mentally run through past events.”

“Like what?” Kyle questioned curiously.

(Y/N)’s eyes narrowed, but not in a loathing way, more of a thoughtful one. “Missions, conversations, things I could’ve done differently, things I will do differently.” He shrugged again. “Painting for me is just a time when I think about everything and nothing.”

“Well, you’re great at it, (Y/N).”

He snorted. “It’s just a bunch of paintings of my family and friends and military shit.”

Kyle blinked and leaned over. “Wait, is that painting in the den—”

“The one of the F-18 Super Hornet?”

“Yeah. You painted that?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yep. I got Hal Jordan to take me up in one a few years ago and decided to commemorate the trip.”

“Wow,” the Lantern breathed. “I stared at that canvas for at least an hour the first time I saw it. I was just so blown away by how amazing it was.” He chuckled and shook his head. “And to find out, you drew it and not some world-famous painter.”

“Hey, I could be world famous if I wanted.” (Y/N) shot back, turning onto a less busy backstreet. “I just choose to retain my talents for family and friends.”

“Because of your job?”

“That too.” He agreed. “My squad and I take careful precautions to avoid our faces being seen during any missions for the safety of our families.” His face turned as solemn as his voice. “We do what we do to make the world safer. To keep our families and friends safe. It’s imperative that we’re not seen.”

Kyle cocked a brow. “But you’re Bruce Wayne’s son?”

“I am,” he nodded. “But I’m not as…out as the rest of my siblings. You’d be able to recognize them from press photos, but me not so much.” (Y/N) pulled into a parking spot outside the bar. “People only recognize me when they see the name on the credit cards. And I prefer to keep it that way.” A goofy smile crossed his lips. “The high life isn’t for me.”

“Says the man that drives a 710 horsepower sports car.” Kyle shot back with a grin of his own and (Y/N) stuck his tongue out as he turned the car off and opened the doors.

“Okay, I’m not actively in the high life but that doesn’t mean I don’t like luxury.” He closed the car doors and opened the front door to the bar for Kyle. “After you.”

“Thank you.” He replied, and walked inside, only stopping to turn and ask, “Do you want to sit at the bar or a table?”

(Y/N) tipped his head to the side. “I’m down with both, but I like the bar more.”

“Bar it is,” Kyle said and slid into one of the chairs, (Y/N) the other, and an older man wandered over.

“Well, I’ll be damned, is that (Y/N) Wayne I see?”

He turned, expression morphing into joy as he reached out and shook the older man’s hand. “Jack, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you son. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know me, sir. Nothin’ changing but the weather.”

Jack snorted. “And the desert where you dig sand outta your ass.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Damn straight.” He looked at Kyle. “Kyle, I’d like you to meet Jack Dagher. He’s an old CO of mine.”

Kyle shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“It’s all mine,” Jack replied. “It’s been a while since (Y/N) brought anybody here.”

At that, Kyle turned to the soldier who was busy looking anywhere but his face. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Sonovabitch doesn’t bring his dates here unless he really likes ‘em.”

(Y/N) coughed, glaring at the man. “Alright, we get it. Aren’t you supposed to be taking orders?”

Jack gave him a smug look in return. “What can I get you boys to drink?”

“I’ll take a beer,” Kyle said, and Jack rolled his eyes.

“No shit, kid. What kind?”

(Y/N) snickered as Kyle flushed. “Uh, a Heineken.”

Jack sighed. “And he had such potential. (Y/N)?”

“Gimme a strawberry daiquiri then water after.”

“Still ordering fruity drinks, huh?”

“Hey, they get you drunk faster than horse piss does, you old fart.” He shot back and the old man chuckled.

“Touché.” He slapped the bar. “I’ll bring those to you with an order of chili fries.”

“Thanks Jack,” (Y/N) smiled, watching the man walk off before turning to Kyle who was watching one of the baseball games. “You like sports?”

He tipped his head side to side. “I don’t not like them. I was never a sporty kid in school, but I like watching them.” He looked at the solider. “What were you like in school? Jock or prep?”

“Probably a bit of both,” he answered. “I played sports and had the highest grades.” Shrugging, he added, “And being a Wayne boosted me into the top tier of schools, so, there’s that. To be honest, I think all of us Wayne kids were and are a mixture of every stereotypical category.”

“I can see that,” Kyle laughed. “Especially with Jason and Dick.”

“Shit, I was talking about Timmy.” (Y/N) said. “That kid’s a grade A nerd.”

“He is, isn’t he?”

The two of them laughed and a woman placed their drinks in front of them, both giving their thanks as they took sips.

“Can I ask you something, (Y/N)?”

“My muscles are one hundred percent real. Especially my abs. Which you’re allowed to feel on in envy if you want.”

Kyle snorted into his beer, wiping his mouth. “No!” a few more chuckles passed his lips as he wiped the bar. “Are you…you know…?”

“A Leo?” (Y/N) offered with a smile, but his eyes told Kyle he knew exactly what the Lantern was asking, and he said, “I like the liquor, but I don’t care what label it has on it.”

The other man smiled. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But if you want the technical term, I am pansexual.” He regarded Kyle a moment. “You?”

“Bisexual.”

His lips pulled in an impressed fashion. “Pretty fly for a bi guy.”

Kyle gaped at him for a moment, then shoved (Y/N) in the side as he buried his face in his arms and laughed. “You’re so stupid.”

“Ah thank you,” he grinned. “I get it from my old man.”

“You,” he cut himself off with a cackle. “do not get that from him.”

“Look, you know the big man in the suit. You don’t know the complete goober we live with,” (Y/N) chuckled, smiling at the waitress who placed menus in front of them; he picked his up and flipped through it.

“What do you recommend?”

“Hmm…anything with bacon on it.” He showed the menu. “If you like salads, get the steak and blue cheese one, it’s fantastic. Or if you’re more into tacos, they’ve got these awesome shrimp carnitas with chili peppers.”

Kyle’s brows furrowed as he looked the menu over. “What are you gonna get?”

“My usual. Tomahawk steak with garlic butter and mashed potatoes.” (Y/N) groaned and rested his head back. “I haven’t had a good steak in months, and I can just taste it already.”

“So, you’re a meat and potatoes kind of man?”

He grinned, keeping his eyes closed. “Unlike the cup noodle and Hawaiian roll man beside me.”

“Ouch. Hit me where it hurts.”

“C’mon Kyle, hit me with your best shot.”

“Better watch it, (Y/N),” he grinned. “You might be the next notch in my pencil case.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

***

“Holy crap,” Kyle breathed, hands resting lightly on his stomach. “I’m stuffed.”

(Y/N) moaned. “Stick a fork in me. I’m done.”

“Done?” their waitress laughed. “You haven’t even finished your desserts yet!”

“Oh God, don’t make me,” the Lantern whined. “I’ll explode.” He looked over. “(Y/N), take one for the team.”

“Pass,” he replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds just looking at the rest of the cheesecake.”

The woman laughed. “I’ll wrap the leftovers for you boys.” She wandered off, leaving them alone, and a blaring ringtone filled the space between.

(Y/N) jumped a little, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you mind if I get this really quick?”

Kyle shook his head. “Go ahead.”

He slid his thumb along the bottom and rested the phone on the bar. “This is Wayne.”

Captain! Finally. I’ve been texting you all afternoon.

“I know,” he snorted. “I’ve been ignoring it.”

Yeah well, the longer you ignore me the slower it takes for the radar dish to get replaced.

“What are you talking about?” (Y/N) asked. “I thought you’d procured one.”

I did. Then the buyer told me I wasn’t registered for official military hardware.

He frowned. “That’s odd. You did contact Thomas, right?”

Yeah. Beady eyed looking motherfucker who serves on the George Washington, right?

“That’s him.” (Y/N) hummed. “Tell you what, I’ll call him later this evening and get it all sorted out, yeah?”

Sounds good. Hey, did you take that guy out yet? Your little brother won’t stop texting me about some twinkie you’re into.”

(Y/N) froze as he felt Kyle’s eyes drilling into the side of his head and he stuttered, “Uh, Nadeen, now’s not the best time.”

What do you mean best—oh…ohhhhhh. I, uh, I gotta go, Captain.

“Yep. Bye.” He locked the phone and shoved it back into his pocket, refusing to meet Kyle’s eyes. “So…you catch the baseball game?”

“Which one of your brother’s thinks I’m a twink?” Kyle asked. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Jason, isn’t it?” he grunted in his throat, deadpanning, “I can’t believe my best friend thinks I’m a twink.”

“It’s Dick, actually.” (Y/N) grinned, turning to face him and he reached over, pinching Kyle’s cheek. “It’s just ‘cause you’re so cute and perky.”

The Lantern merely glared at him, griping, “I’m not as strong as you, put I can punch pretty hard.”

“Ooo, those are fighting words,” he shot back with a smirk, letting Kyle go. “Careful, I’m ticklish.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Hal.”

(Y/N) whined, all but collapsing onto Kyle who started snickering. “I’ve just been murdered.” He buried his face in Kyle’s shoulder. “Can’t believe I was just compared to Highball. The world must be coming to an end.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby. You’re not dying.”

“I am!” he turned his head, gazing at Kyle. “You’ll have to carry me to safety.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you.”

“Are you calling me fat?”

“I did not say that.”

“You did, but in more words.”

“Alright, now I’m talking to Guy.”

“THAT’S SO MUCH WORSE!”

***

He leaned against the door frame as Kyle unlocked his front door and pushed it open, turning to look at him. “I had a lot of fun today, (Y/N).” he murmured. “Thanks.”

Winking, he replied, “I’m glad you did. I’d like to do it again soon if you want.”

Kyle nodded. “I’d like that.”

They stared at each other for a few moments and (Y/N) smiled, patting the door frame. “Well, I’d better be heading out. Have to get home in time for dinner.” He paused, giving the man a warm look. “Thanks for having lunch with me, Kyle.”

He’d not gotten two feet from the door when Kyle’s hand wrapped around his wrist. “Wait.” He turned and the Lantern leaned forward, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s cheek. “Be careful on your way back.”

“I will,” he murmured, watching Kyle wave and disappear into his apartment, the door shutting behind him.

[bigwhispersbluebird]

Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking  eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 7: Green Light

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[masterlist]

note: i don’t know why i can’t edit chapter 6 so hopefully you reach this chapter

2 weeks.

2 weeks have passed ever since that night Yuta walked you home, the same night that you and Kuroo got into the biggest fight you’ve ever had. The doors were slammed, the remote of the TV flew from one wall to another, your voices were on top of your lungs.

Kuroo threw words he shouldn’t have, like accusing you of cheating on him. You even went on your knees just to prove to him that you didn’t. Apology after apology. You didn’t even know why you were asking for forgiveness when you did nothing wrong. He told you to leave, you should have, but you didn’t. You couldn’t leave him. You love him way too much even if he does you so wrong.

Kuroo has all red lights turn into green and you let him drive you insane.

But you’re getting tired of the ride that doesn’t have a destination.

——————————————————————————

“Just go see (Y/N) at her office,” Kenma tells Kuroo as the two are looking over files. “My secretary and her secretary are friends. I can ask for her schedule if you want.”

“Why would I?” Kuroo scoffs confidently and his friend deadpans at him. “What? It’s not like I miss her or something.”

“You’ve been writing her name and scratching over it like a teenager going through a heartbreak. I thought the two of you made up already?” Kenma rebuts and the raven head pouts.

“We did.” Kuroo continues to read the document, trying his best not to get distracted by invasive thoughts of you. ‘But she isn’t chasing after me like she used to.’

You really have been different. Yes, you still message him and act sweet around him, but it seems like you’re forcing your actions, especially sex. Whenever you have time to go home, you two only do the deed, then sleep, and then he wakes up to an empty bed again.

Sex is good, great even. Kuroo loves doing it with you. But it isn’t enough. When was the last time you went on a date? Or ate a meal together? Or talked about your days? When was the last time you told him you love him?

“So why are you moping around?”

‘Because I miss her,’ Kuroo’s inside thought speaks in volume. He really does miss you but he can’t say it out loud. “I don’t know man. I guess because of work.”

“But aren’t you here with me because you barely have work to do?” Kenma says in an almost teasing tone. Kuroo just rolls his eyes and ignores his friend. Oh how the tables have suddenly turned. Kenma is the one teasing him now.

Kenma then realizes that Kuroo has finally started caring about you.

Kuroo arrives at your workplace earlier than your meeting time because he’s that excited to see you. He even bought flowers for you and pastries for your workmates. It’s his way for thanking them for taking care of you at your work. Also, it’s to let them know that you’re together so they stop shipping you with other people.

“Oh, Kuroo, you’re here,” Terushima greets him as they meet in the lobby. “(Y/N) has an emergency photoshoot today so I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Photoshoot for what?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow as he follows Terushima inside the studio of your office. There are big lighting equipments, a huge white backdrop in the room, and a lot of wedding dresses.

“For our wedding dresses catalogue. Usually, Alisa does it but she’s sick today so (Y/N) has to take her place,” Terushima explains and Kuroo nods in comprehension. “I think she’s preparing for the last dress already so you don’t have to wait long for her to finish.”

Terushima gives Kuroo a chair he can sit on and directs him to a spot where he can see you while you shoot. While waiting for you, he hands out goodies to your coworkers, bowing and thanking each one of them.

Not long after, you come out in a white tulle ball gown with white flower petals on the bodice and ends of the dress. Your hair and makeup done bridal style: subtle, elegant and will surely take the groom’s breath away. Kuroo doesn’t know why but his breathing pattern suddenly changes and his heart beat picks up a rather speedy pace.

You literally and figuratively took his breath away.

‘I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack,’ Kuroo thinks without knowing that he has a sweet smile on his face. His eyes are staring at you in admiration, maybe even in a loving way. You just look too gorgeous in that dress it makes him wonder what you’d wear in your wedding if you even had one.

Come to think of it, what would you like your whole wedding to be?

The man is getting flustered just thinking about your wedding day. You’ll have one soon, right? It’s working out for the two of you so there definitely will be one. Or so he thinks that it’s working out for the two of you.

“Kuroo?”

“Kuroo.”

“Kuroo!”

“Yes?” Kuroo finally snaps out of his thoughts and sees Terushima smirking at him. “What?”

“You’re staring too much,” the blonde chuckles. He expects Kuroo to deny it and such so he gets shock when the raven states...

“Why wouldn’t I? My wife looks mesmerizing.” Kuroo continues to watch your shoot, his attention only on you and no one else. You finally see him, so you flash him a sweet smile and flirty wink before focusing back to your work.

Kuroo giggles with a blushing face which causes Terushima to laugh at his reaction. Terushima teases him so he hits Terushuma, telling the blonde to stop teasing him. “You are such a simp!”

The two of them are having butterflies in their stomachs because they’re lowkey like teenage girls, giggling and whispering to each other with blushes on their face, talking about the love of their life. If you’re looking from a far, you would never know what they are talking about.

The shoot finally ends and your secretary tells Kuroo to wait for you at your office. He does as told and roams around your workplace while he waits. He finds your little bedroom and sees some of your belongings in there. It must be where you sleep when you finish work when trains stop operating for the day.

Kuroo hears your door open so he gets out of the tiny room and skips to you, hugging you tightly in the middle of the room. He takes a look at your face and then tackles it with kisses, enabling you start a proper conversation.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you so much.”

Kiss.

“Tetsu, love,” you call him out in between giggles, your hands trying to cup his cheeks for him to stop, but he captures your lips with his first. Your eyes flutter close and give into his actions.

“You looked so beautiful in that dress, my love. Makes me wanna marry you again.”

You’re supposed to be happy hearing his words. Your heart should be jumping out of your rib cage by now. So why can you feel yourself forcing a smile?

“Love, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Kuroo asks you, his arms snaking around your body, nuzzling his nose on the crook your neck. You just humm, eyes closed, fingers tangled into his hair.

“What’s your ideal wedding?”

Your lids shut open from his question. “All of a sudden?”

“I just got curious.” Kuroo shrugs, waiting for your answer. He’s ready to take mental notes and use it when you plan your wedding.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you answer honestly. Kuroo moves away from you and stares, not believing the words that came out of your mouth. “What? I always knew I was getting arranged so I never thought about having my own wedding.”

“You’re a wedding planner and you never dreamed about your own wedding?” Kuroo is skeptical about your statement and he also feels disappointed?

You’ve never thought about your wedding? As in the ‘you as the bride and him as the groom’ wedding? Has it really not passed your mind even just for a second? Because that was all he was thinking about when he saw you in that wedding dress and up to this moment.

“I just don’t see myself having my own wedding,” you explain, not sparing a glance at his disheartened face.

“Not even with me?” He says without thinking, which you look at him for. You examine his face and see how he genuinely looks discouraged about your words. Not understanding why is he so hurt about your words, you cock an eyebrow at him.

“We’re married.”

“But we haven’t had a wedding ceremony. I personally think it’ll be great to have one,” Kuroo says as if it’s not a big deal, but deep inside he is making a huge fuss about it. He’s indirectly proposing to you and if you turn it down, his heart will shatter to pieces.

“Let’s see after our trying period,” is all you responded. Your response breaks him. You haven’t decided if you’ll stay with him?

He can feel his chest tigthen and hand sweat. Why are you saying that when months ago you were speaking about how much you love him? Why are you saying that when weeks ago you were begging him to forgive you?

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

The idea of signal lights was first used on railroads to prevent trains from colliding. These signals were then adapted all over the world and used in roads since it worked so well.

The original pattern was red for danger, green for caution, and white to go. However, since white could have been easily missed against a starry sky so then it was changed to the green, yellow, and red we know of now.

The first constructed roads date from about 4000 BC

Roman roads were often stone-paved.

The Pan-American Highway is the longest roadway in the world, spanning around 19,000 miles or 30,000 kilometers

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[hoodharlow]

“Pa’que Pare de Chingar”

El Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 3

AN: Part 3 is HErEEEEEE!!! I apologize for not posting this yesterday. Hope y’all enjoy bc in un ratito Part 4 will be out. 

Warnings: smut, brief mention of weed and brief mention of birth control

requested? nope

Word Count:

Calum leaned back in his seat and scrolled through Twitter while he waited for Claudia to get her birth control pills from the pharmacy. He was still pissed at the lady with the rat. 

Mrs. Garner, the neighbor whose dog bit Damian, ended up leaking a video of him and Claudia making out in the Santos driveway as a way to get back at them for reporting her dog. It was more of a compilation of them dating back to the summer before to just a few weeks ago when they got back from walking Duke and Panchito. It created an uproar. 

Fans were confused and surprised that Calum and Claudia have been together the whole time. Others were angry at the neighbor for invading their privacy. The paparazzi set up camp in the neighborhood in hopes of getting pictures of the couple since Mrs. Garner had also leaked their address. For the sake of Claudia's family and their privacy and safety, Calum and Claudia went back to Calum's house in L.A. where the neighborhood was more private. 

Soon enough, Mrs. Garner got a taste of her medicine when Calum's fans found out she had a wine shop and flooded Yelp and Google with negative reviews. To think she did all of that because her dog bit a little kid. 

He closed the app and replied to Ashton's text confirming the time he and his team were going over for the album photoshoot. Calum still couldn't believe that Ashton wrote and produced his own album in such little time. Nonetheless he was proud of him. Ashton is someone he admired purely based on his ambition and talent. 

There was a soft knock on the passenger side of the window. Claudia waved at Calum and motioned that the door was locked. 

"Shit," He cursed. He reached over and opened the door for her. "Sorry."

"It's okay." She said smoothing out the bed sheet before sitting on it. 

It was well into June, making the weather be over 80° which was not a good mix with the car's leather seats and Claudia's short shorts and rompers. Not to mention she sweated an embarrassing amount through her ass. 

"I'm hungry. Can we get breakfast burritos before going to Target?" Claudia asked him. 

"Of course. San Miguel's?" Calum suggested. It's been months since they went to their go-to Mexican food place at Long Beach. 

"Yes. Let me order it through postmates so we can just pick them up."

She pulled out the paper bag containing her birth control and hid it behind her back while she tore apart her purse to get her phone. She felt one of Calum's cool hands on her back, pulling out the paper bag. 

"Why are you hiding your birth control like it's a bad thing? I know you're on it." he asked. 

"Because." she said, taking the bag and shoving it deep in her purse. 

"Because why?" 

"It's weird." she giggled nervously. She pulled back her hair into a bun. "Like I've never been at this personal level with any of my exes. Not that it's a bad thing, I'm just still, like, getting used to it."

"Oh."

"Yeah…"

"Did I make it awkward?” Calum asked her, intertwining their fingers together.

“A little, but it’s okay. I don’t want you to overthink this. I’m just getting used to this, you did nothing wrong.” 

Claudia leaned over and kissed his cheek. She pulled out her phone and opened Postmates. “Do you want your breakfast bowl hash browns or tater tots?”

“Tater tots please.”

The rest of the drive to San Miguel’s was pleasant. They got into some traffic, but luckily Calum and Claudia were both in good moods, resulting in Calum playing Jose Alfredo Jimenez and Natalia Lafourcade along with other Mexican groups. A few weeks ago, Diego introduced him to them when they both got high and decided to listen to Mariachi music. It was the most they bonded since Calum and Claudia started dating.

Pepe Aguilar faded into the background as Calum lowered the volume. He glanced over at Claudia, she was looking out the window, letting the sunrays dance on her face. 

“Hey Claudia?” Calum asked, getting her attention.

“Yeah?” She answered him, pulling herself away from the window. 

“I know I shouldn’t be asking you this, but if you’re comfortable, what was your other ex like?” He shifted in his seat awkwardly, not knowing how Claudia was going to respond. 

He knew it was one of those wildcard questions. She would either answer him, or go off telling him that the past is the past. But after her comment about her exes, he just had to know. All he knew about the guy was that he played football and was a year older than her. 

“Isaiah was a sweetheart. I met him through his sisters. We got close because I defended them when they got made fun of for liking One Direction, they even showed me some of Luke’s covers too. Anyways, we would always hang out at my place so I never met their brother until the first day of school where we were the only underclassmen in our AP Stats class. After that we became really good friends. We became a thing after he asked me to homecoming. Our relationship was pretty much stagnant. We didn’t do anything like sex wise. He was really respectful about that too and always kept the football team in check about that. 

This one guy from the football team started a rumor that he hooked up with a girl from the dance team and Isaiah called him out. Like overall he was a good guy. So when he graduated, we decided to just stay friends. We didn’t see each other until my senior prom where he was my date because a certain bass player didn’t go to prom with me after he said yes and I reached my goal of ten thousand retweets.”

“That was you?” Calum yelled. “I felt so bad. We had like a two week break, but a day after our show in Dublin my appendix ruptured and was bed ridden until our break ended. I guess that could explain why you didn’t give me a slice of chocoflan when I went.” 

“Damn, I thought your team was just BSing and didn’t want to go. I was really sad and sold my tickets out of spite.” Claudia mumbled to herself.

“I have the corsage somewhere in my room, actually.”

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah, I can give it too with one condition.”

“What is it?” 

“You slow dance with me.”

***

It happened so fast. Claudia was hanging up some shirts she tie-dyed to air dry while Calum watched in the comfort of their new lounge chair. It had a dark wood foundation with a comfy and waterproof mattress on top. A comment about Claudia's peeking out of her silk romper led to one about how they haven't christened the chair. A few teasing touches later, Calum dropped his slutty shorts. It was a term coined by Claudia after Calum accidentally bought some RVCA shorts that were closer to his crotch than his knees. 

Claudia leaned down and captured his lips. She got off the lounge chair, taking her time removing her silk romper. Then she slowly crawled back to Calum. He lifted his bucket hat covered head and leaned up to kiss her once more. He laid back down before pushing back his hat to get a better view of Claudia. 

She coated Calum’s cock with her arousal then she slowly slid down his length. Her hands rested on his tummy and Calum placed his hands on her waist, and slowly guided her. Claudia rocked her hips back and forth. She closed her eyes, gasping at the feeling of him all the way inside her. 

"Just like that pretty girl,” Calum moaned out. 

She opened her eyes and found him staring into hers. Without breaking eye contact she rolled her hips a bit slower, bucking his hips up into her. She moaned as he groaned in pleasure. 

"Calum,” Claudia whimpered. 

He sat up as Claudia wrapped her arms around his shoulders while he held her in his arms. She slowly continued to roll herself against him and Calum let out an incoherent moan in her ear. 

Claudia rested her head against his shoulder. “Hey,” Calum said softly. “Eyes on me." 

She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes flickered from her lips to her eyes and a huge smile formed on his lips. Calum captured her lips. Claudia halted her movements and solely focused his mouth. She held onto his face with both hands, deepening their kiss. 

Without breaking the kiss, Calum pushed Claudia onto her back. Pushing her legs to her chest, he slowly thrusted into her with slightly rough precision. He halted his movements thinking Duke must have gotten out, and looked up.

“Ash?”

“Ashton? I know—”

“Get dressed, Ash and Ryan are here.” He whispered, pulling up his shorts. He tossed her romper and awkwardly stood in front of the chair as she got dressed.

“Are you two seriously fucking?” Ashton yelled from the other side of the pool. “I liked napping in that lounge chair, now you ruined it.”

“Well I liked fucking my boyfriend in this lounge chair, now you ruined that.” Claudia yelled back in the same tone as him. 

She leaned into Calum and kissed his cheek. “I’m gonna make some cookies and stuff.”

She waved at Ryan and flipped Ashton off as she passed them to get to the kitchen. She poured some macadamia nuts on a comal and let them toast on a low heat while she prepped the cookie batter. She was making white chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies with spinach. She saw the recipe on Fetch with Ruff Ruffman when she was in elementary school and since then it became her go-to recipe for white chocolate chip and macadamia nut cookies. She also liked making them to spite Ashton because he always said her cookies weren't the healthiest. Now he couldn't say anything since she put a bag of spinach in it. 

The macadamia nuts finished toasting in time for them to get folded into the cookie dough along with the chocolate chips and spinach. She placed them in the oven and cleaned up while they baked. Remembering she still had some doggie dough, she also placed them in the oven. She then prepared some agua de jamaica with some jamaica leaves that she let soak overnight. 

Claudia heard Duke’s barks by the front door. She went over and saw the delivery person walking back to their truck. She motioned Duke to back up so she could open the door to get the package. It was her monthly Savage×Fenty package. She took the box up to their room, thinking of ways to tease. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard the kitchen timer go off. 

Duke was excitedly wagging his tail in front of the oven, waiting for her to get out the treats she made. He backed away and watched her get out the baking trays. 

“En un ratito okay? They’re still hot.” Claudia told him.

Once they cookies and treats cooled off she placed them on plates. She placed the pitcher of agua de jamaica and the cookie plate on a tray and took it outside for the guys. Calum helped her carry it.

“Did you make your spinach cookies to spite Ashton?” He asked her.

“Yeah, pa’que pare de chingar.” She smiled to herself. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. “Also, I got a package, so make sure no one touches your phone in the next hour or so, unless they want to see my ass.”

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart​ @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021​   @calumscalm​ @karajaynetoday​ @cherryxwildflower​ @myloverboyash​  @idontneedanyone​ @findingliam-o​ @5-secondsofcolor​ @spicylftv​ @sexgodashton​ @fckingpernico​ @2fangirl4u​ @calpops

[litteidiot]

Four Seasons With You

Volume one: Chapter 1- Spring

Easter Egg Hunt

Pairing: Victor x Mc

Summary: When an unexpected inconvenience gives you the opportunity to make this day unforgettable for him.

“I’ll see you later.” You chriped on a sunny morning. Basically hopping in front of him, you placed a gentle kiss on his lips before parting.

“So cheery today and the day barely started. Does a certain dummy has something in her mind?” Victor hooked his arm around your waist, giving you another kiss on the forehead. “Oh, it’s nothing, just springtime.” You smiled at him. “And it’s also Easter.” You added. He nod reminding himself about the holiday. Today he was supposed to be at home with you enjoying each other’s company. You made him promise you because he is on his day off he won’t look at any document nor report. He is yours only.

But last night in some ungodly hour, the management crew gave him a call, about some hiccups what occurred with the overseas department. The negotiation to collaborate with the new American company took a bad turn and they refused to do anything further if they can’t talk with the CEO of LFG. So it meant he has to go in for an impromptu meeting.

“I’ll make it up for you when I’ll get back.” He pulled you close again, hinting another soft kiss on your temple. It was still early in the morning. He tried to get up beside you without disturbing your sleep, but when you didn’t feel his warmth anymore, you woke up and followed him to the kitchen. You shook your head in refusal. “Don’t rush the meeting because you want to get back home earlier for me. Take your time I know you were in contact with this company for a long time. I’ll see you when you finished.” You smiled at him.

You know this deal can benefit LFG’s future in the overseas market. So of course you don’t want this to end badly because of some holiday. “Even though it means two batches of pudding.” The sweet smile on your makeup free face turned into a mischievous and greedy grin. “Such a dummy. Always thinking about her stomach.” He murmured pretending to be annoyed, but you knew this man long enough to know he will grant your wish. “When I get home I better not see chicklets, bunnies and an idiot running around the house.” With that he closed the door behind him and left.

While you made yourself a light breakfast, what only contained toast and eggs, your mind was furiously racing on how to spend the time while waiting for your boyfriend. As you kept musing on the possibilities on how to spend the day, you gradually remembered the little surprises you left in Victor’s office while you waited for him to finish his meeting a couple days back. A prankish smile tugged on your lips. Shoving down the remaining bites of your meal, and taking a few more sips of the coffee you hurried away to get dressed.

Walking in the step in closet you chose a casual wear for the day. Pushing and flipping the hanged up clothing articles you eventually found a nice beige colored dress among the many formal and ridiculously expensive clothings. When you became Victor’s partner and after the media acknowledged this information you got invitations to balls and fancier parties. It was a natural requirement you had to look high class just like him. Your boyfriend mercilessly spoiled you rotten with fancier and fancier dresses, personally tailored to your sizes by the finest taylors he could find. As the collection grew, it swallowed all your older clothes. The dress you posed with in front of the body sized mirror was like a scavenger hunt amongst the many night gowns and suit dresses.

Quickly putting on your chosen outfit, you left the penthouse in a hurry, barely being able to snatch your purse on the coat hanger. You were having an intense race with time. To not blow up your sudden Easter surprise you tried to do the shopping as quickly as possible. You don’t know when Victor comes home so it added another reason to make this fast.

***

“Goldman, the management team better have a good reason to call me in, because I have a better place to be today.” Victor’s stern voice echoed through his office the moment he stepped in. Several moments of keyboard clicking later Goldman began with his speach.

“The possible partner we are trying to convince suddenly got a more appealing offer from a different company. The deal was that the company will sponsor them PR commercials and advertisings, they can keep their position in the stock market and can have sixty percent of the income.” He said, flipping back and forth on the tablet.

“I see.— Victor rested his chin on his hands— “Remind me please about the deal LFG offered.” The assistant cleared his throat, opening the files what contained the agreement. “Comparing to the new proposal our offer is lacking. Because of their crash in the marketing area lately, you decided to not offer munch in case the collaboration would backfire.” After minutes of thinking, what felt like centuries Victor finally spoke up.

“Rewrite our proposal. Tell them LFG will ensure their stay in the stock market, and will back it up if any unpleasant problmes happens. Also mention they have a two months recovery time and we will give one hundred percent sponsorship with the possibility to function as an independent company like Kiseki Entertainment. This is the best deal they can get and they know it.”

From the very first moment, Kiseki Entertainment functioned independently. Under his guidance, you bloomed into a successful company in barely two years, becoming one of the most productive investments amongst the very few freelancers under LFG. “Arrange an online meeting in twenty minutes. During that, — he stood up, to make his way to one of the conference room— “collect informations about our opponent what can be used for LFG’s advantages.” Goldman nodded already holding his phone to his ear, summoning the staff needed for the conference.

“Anything else you want t— is that an Easter egg?” Goldman pointed at the bunch of tiny colorful eggs scattered around the coffee table. The more he looked the more he noticed. On the shelves, between Victor’s compture, on the coat hangers.

“Goldman who was the last person in my office?” He asked, walking around removing the candy eggs from their places.“Until this morning no one was in here. A few days ago only Ms. Mc stayed here, waiting for you to finish the meeting.”

Victor sighed.

Of course it was you.

***

You looked at the row of numbers at the screen, your purse, and then the ridiculous amount of Easter eggs piled up behind you. Maybe you carried away a little bit.

“Uh, excuse me for a second.” You kept digging in your purse in hope you will find your credit card. After minutes of unsuccessful searching you started to panic a little.

Your plan was to buy plenty of Eggs and hide them all around the mansion. You bought chocolate eggs and plastic eggs in all sizes and colors. Also a pink rabbit onesie because you couldn’t insist. You just didn’t expect the price what came with it.

“I’m sorry Miss, but you are keeping up the row. Do you wish to purchase these items?” The cashier lady asked what made you squeak and panic more. “Please debit these items on Victor Li’s account!” You blurted out. The cashier nodded typing away the informations. “Everything is settled, have a pleasant Easter.” The lady smiled handing you the bags. Thanking her and wishing for the same you made your way home. If you knew ypu will end up with multiple bags you will take the car.

“I’m back.” You opened the door of the house placing the bags on the floor. A small meow eachoed at the corner, a cat trotted towards you. “Hi Pudding, mommy is back.” You bent down to pick up the cat, a light huff leaving your lips. “Victor feeds you too well.” You giggle pocking at the fat at the cat’s belly. “I will bring some Easter spirit into this big house will you help me?” Like the animal just understood you, Pudding meowed and with a hop she escaped your embrace and walked away. Lazy cat.

Shrugging it off you unpacked and stared to hide all the eggs around the house. In the kitchen, the coffee table, the couch, hangers, in his suits. In other words you hide them everywhere you found it suitable. Now all you had to do is wait for his return.

***

Several hours passed, the sun was about to go down when he finally came home. Tossing away the book you were reading, you jogged to the entrance to greet him. “Welcome home!” You smiled at him, what left your face in a second. “Is everything alright at LFG?” You furrowed your eyebrows in conern when you saw his expression. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.” He said. “Nothing is wrong, my plans just takes a little more time to be accomplished.” Victor pulled you to his side, giving a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me make up for you with a dinner. It’s your call, I’ll make you anything.” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt and rolled it up while walking in the kitchen.

“Pudding!” You smiled, Victor rolled his eyes at your remark. “Dummy, you want pudding for dinner?” He asked opening the fridge. “What is that?” He held a green chocolate egg in his hand. “Ah, I see. We are mischievous today.” A smile crept up on the corner of his lips, putting the sweet aside. “So I assume the plenty of chocolate in my office was your doing too.”

“I have no idea what are you talking about.” You shuffled away. “I didn’t do anything.” He chuckled. “Of course you didn’t, those eggs are from the Easter Bunny. So what do you like to eat?” He asked again getting the pots and pans ready. Without a word he put another handful of eggs aside, making it harder for you to comtain the fit of laughter what is about to erupt from your chest.

“Beef ribs would be fine.” You composed yourself. Victor nodded and began to prepare the dish. “So tell me, what were you doing all day?” He asked putting away another egg when he opened the cabinet where the seasonings were. “Aside from scattering sweets all over the kitchen.” A soft giggle left your lips. “Just the usual. I cleaned up, fed the cat. You knows, the things I usually do.” You chatted nonchalantly, like having Easter eggs around the house is ordinary.

“Why you are so clingy all off a sudden?” He lookes at you in confusion when he notices you are following his every step with your eyes. “What? No, I’m not!” You grinned, getting more eager every time he found an egg.

But what you didn’t know that the more he found the more annyed he got. He saw Easter eggs everywhere. On the kitchen counter, in the fridge, on the cabinets even in the cat bowl. But he didn’t have the heart to tell you. You waited for him all day so he can bear with your pranks a little longer.

He didn’t know what will coming.

“The ribs are almost ready.” He closed the oven after flipping them in the pan. “It’s smells so good.” You hummed, mouth already watering just from imagining how smoothly you knife will slide through the juicy ribs.

“I’ll go set the table.” You hopped down from the barstool and opened one of the cabinets to get the plates. While you clattered with the utensils, Victor opened his phone to check the notification he got from his bank during the meeting. The numbers he saw is what made him finally snap.

“What did you do?!” He exclaimed, looking at you, eyes wide as saucers. His sudden harsh tone startled you, almost making you drop the plates you balanced in your hands. “$150?! What did you buy?!” He questioned, his eyes shooting daggers at you. He sighed. “Don’t tell me all that were for chocolate eggs! Are you out of your mind?” He raised his voice at you, his eyes casting a frightening shade. The last time he looked at you this way when you barged in his office, demanding for funding. And that was many years ago. You flinched under his cold stare.

“I’m sorry.— you put everything in your hands down— “I-I’ll go clean that up.” With that you left the kitchen, and disappeared at the corner.

“Mc, wait.” He called after you, immediately regretting the way he spoke to you. A wave of guilt went over him when he caught up to you in the living room. Like you said, you obediently rummaged around to find the eggs. And it would be fine if you wouldn’t sniffling quietly, occasionally reaching up to wipe your eyes. And he hates it when you cry. And despise it if he’s the reason behind your tears. He didn’t mean to be this harsh with you. Or at all.

“Mc.” Victor called your name. Looking at the source of his voice you wiped off your tears in a quick motion. “Don’t bother, — you turned back, to hide your bloodshot eyes.— “I’ll get everything done. Go set up the dinner.” His heart ached, watching you turning away to hide your tears from him.

“No.” He walked up to you, folding you into a hug. “Today I almost lost the client I negotiated for weeks. They got a better offer and I had to change plans. The meeting was unplanned, I should’ve been at home with you.” He murmured into your ear. You stood there in sock while he kept talking.

“So I got frustrated. I shouldn’t have to release my anger on you. You just wanted to spend this day with me. I’m sorry.” He apologized. You on the other hand was shocked. Your boyfriend is a prideful person. And goddamn, he is also stubborn just as much like you are. The man you get to know almost never makes mistakes and if he does, the ground can crack, there’s no money in this world for him to make him admit it. He had to regret his actions very much to muster out an apology.

“It’s okay.” You turned to face him, knowing he meant it. Reaching up you scarping your fingers through his soft and well kept hair. “It was my fault after all. I went overboard with the sweets. And I scattered them all around the house.” You added. “Dummy.” He sighed, a relieved smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw you are hot angry at him. A soft giggle escaped your lips, remembering again how many chocolate eggs you hide in this big house.

“This looks better.” He pulled away, wiping the remaining tears from the corner of your eyes. “From now on just smile only. It looks better on you than the tears.” A pink color appeared on your face. When this stone cold man get so romantic?

“I’ll go pick up the eggs. Just keep making the dinner I’ll be fine.” You turned around and walked away.

***

“Almost got it!” You stretched further, balancing with a net in your hand while Victor had a firm grip on your hip. You were practically levitating above the pool to reach for the plastic egg at the bottom. Victor during that grew some gray hair.“I can’t believe you literally threw eggs in the pool. What if I’m not around? You straight up jump in?” You glared at him above your shoulders. “Hold me still or let me go. I can get them myself.” You puffed up your cheeks and reached further.

“Idiot, you can’t even swim.” He sighed. “Mc, stop wiggling you going to fall in!” And like this is what gravity waited for, you slipped on the wet tile, you fell in dragging Victor with yourself. With a swift motion, he scooped you up in his arms and brought you up in the surface. “I told you to hold me!” You screeched between coughs. “If you wouldn’t throw eggs in here like an idiot you are we wouldn’t be in this situation.” He fired back sitting you on the edge of the pool and then he climbed out himself.

“Dummy.” He sighed for the millionths time today, draping you in a towel. “Go get changed or you’ll catch a cold.” He helped you up. In that moment a little smirk appeared on your face, and it stretched wider. “What is it? Don’t tell me you still have eggs.” Victor sighed, a miserable look on his face. “Nothing.” You smiled and ran away.

“How many times I have to tell you? Don’t run by the pool!” He yelled after you but you were already outside. Grabbing the paperbag left on the bedroom you hurried away to the shower. After taking a shower you put on the pink, fuzzy bunny onsie you bought today. Stepping out your bringht pink color looked way too odd compared to the black and claret themed bedroom you two shared.

“What on earth are you wearing this time?” Victor looked at you from the bed. While waiting, he used the guests bathroom and changed into a black silk sleepwear. You giggled and hopped in next to him. “I didn’t remember keeping a rabbit at home.” He chuckled. “Childish.” He added. Rolling your eyes at his comment you laid down besides him. “Today is still Easter so I’m excused.”

“You have 5 more minutes to be like this.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “Then we are stretching it till tomorrow because I’m not changing.” You turned to face him.

Putting down his phone on the bedside table, Victor pulled you closer to his body. “I’ll make it up for you for being away. And for yelling at you.” He sighed, pressing his lips on the top of your head. As he moved closer to you something pierced into his side. Reaching to get it a small plastic egg was in his hand.

“Dummy.”

Your cheerful laugh echoed through the bedroom.

Still feeling tired? Grab some more story at Reading Corner

[joonkorre]

(love) is a heartache

@drarrymicrofic prompt: hope is a heartache - léon

let it be known that harry goes through life purely on vibes. half of his reasons why for every decision at his big age are “idk imma just hope for the best”

ao3

People’s hearts twinge sometimes. For Draco, he can barely remember the last time he doesn’t have these twinges. It’s pretty normal at this point.

“No, it’s not,” Pansy says. She’s a Healer, so she’s probably right. But Draco prefers to ignore that.

“Leave it be,” Draco murmurs, lips against her scalp, “I’m fine. Say, are you free tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You want to go somewhere?”

“Mm. Sleep.”

They go out the next morning, Pansy in thick makeup and Draco practically drunk under nine layers of Charms. The air is a bit humid, which seems to get worse when the bustling street intensifies in volume into a roaring din. Pansy pulls him under an awning, yanking at his sleeve a bit to try out her disgusting sugary coffee. She always does this whenever she wants to take his attention away from something, which means he just has to look at exactly where she’s doesn’t want him to. As his lips wrap around her lipstick-stained straw, he glances up.

Across the street, a couple strolls through a gushing crowd. Fiery red hair, airy laughter, a pale arm wrapped around her fiancé’s waist. Curls of black, sleek spectacles, a protective palm on his fiancee’s shoulder. They make the perfect picture, a vibrant oil painting. Their existence is formed from bold strokes of sunlight and starburst kisses, with the focal point being a shock of phthalo green and cadmium lemon, two minute specks that make all the difference. As all good paintings do, they pin the viewer on the spot, as if the viewer himself is a thing to behold. Then they shift away.

The exhibit moves forward and out of sight. It’s closing time, the viewer has overstayed his welcome.

Something leaps in Draco’s chest and splatters on the floor of his stomach. Placing her hand over his heart, Pansy frowns at him. She doesn’t ask why Potter stared at someone who looked like a stranger to him. Only tells him to start finding answers.

Months later, on the most awaited day in recent Wizarding history, there’s a knock on Draco’s door.

He throws on a sweater, and a throw, too, for good measure. Ambling to the door, he checks the mail slot before peeking through the peephole. Nobody but a package is outside. Draco hums and unlocks his door, crouching down the moment it opens. What feels like soft satin brushes against his cheek, cool and smooth. With a flash, a pair of shiny dress shoes appear before him.

“Draco.”

Draco peers up as he rises, hands around the package. Potter has his maddening Invisibility Cloak slung over his arm, his roguish charm heightened by a perfectly fitted three-piece suit. A tiny posy is pinned on his left lapel, muted green hellebores with a few sprigs of privet berries. He’s dressed like a man in love.

Draco feels something he hasn’t felt in months at the sight. He’s trained himself to suppress it the moment it showed itself and has been relatively successful until now. The sting, without warning, bursts from within his chest, calling forth a slight wince. Potter’s brows furrow.

"How do you know where I live?"

“How long has this been going on?”

Draco frowns. “Pardon?”

“That,” Potter gestures at Draco’s chest. “The heartache.”

He rears back. What the hell is he supposed to say to that? At Potter’s unchanging expression, Draco shoves his hair out of his face with a quiet huff and puts a hand on the doorknob.

“It’s none of your business. Please leave.”

“It is, actually,” Potter stops the closing door with one arm.

“Excuse me? We haven't had a proper conversation in more than a decade and suddenly you want to act like we're friends? Leave, now.”

“Listen to me. How can it not be my business when I feel it, too?”

“Check with a Healer, then. If you can put past grudges aside, I can hand you Pansy Parkinson’s business card,” Draco grits through his teeth, pushing against the door with his entire body, his throw slipping to the ground.

“Draco, stop, I already know, stop.”

“Know what? No, I don't care. Leave at once, else I’d alert the Aurors.”

A rough slam sends Draco staggering back. Potter pants, hard lines on his face. His chest heaves under his crisp white shirt, its top two buttons unclasped, and he steps over the threshold, closing the door.

“You think they’d believe you?”

The pain shoots from his chest to the rest of his body, and for several seconds, his lungs wouldn’t work. He whips his head away from Potter, who groans and sags against the wall.

“I told you to leave.”

“I’m sorry, that was a shitty thing to say,” Potter says immediately, sweat dotting his temples.

After an uncomfortable pause, clearing his throat, he picks up the near-forgotten package from the carpet. His hand feels around the outline of the object within, rectangular and heavy. Glancing at Draco, he says hoarsely. “I know why you bought this book.”

“Know this, know that, you know nothing,” Draco lunges forward, only for Potter to twist out of the way and raise the package out of his reach.

“The Life-long Burden of Dark Curses: A Caution by Elise Arrowlane, limited edition,” he says, unbothered by Draco’s slackened jaw. “You ordered it from the new bookstore on Diagon months ago. You were small and old and grey, but I recognized you. I always could.”

“Okay,” Draco sneers, “so you’re a stalker. Old news. Anything else?”

“There’s no need to order one. I would’ve borrowed it from Hermione if you had only asked,” Potter says. “Instead, I got curious and read it for myself. That’s how I connected the dots about the heartache, how I realized we’ve both had it since that day years ago.”

“Oh, the day you slashed me into ribbons and almost cut through my heart?” Draco clenches his jaw.

Being able to shout this ugly kind of truth into the perpetrator’s face feels oddly liberating. That is, if liberation also comes with a specific kind of agony that makes Draco want to fall to his knees.

“Dark Magic leaves a mark on both the wizard and their victim, doesn’t it? No need for a book to tell us that,” Potter says, the harsh afternoon glow of him gentled by the soft lamplight in Draco’s hallway. “In certain cases, it even leaves a link. A connection.”

Draco bites the inside of his cheek and looks away. The only consequence from that horrid night was his fucked up heart and nothing else, nothing at all. Whatever Potter is insinuating, he hates it. He hates this. He hates him.

“How are you so sure there’s a connection.”

“I wasn’t,” Potter says. “The Healers said it’s a health thing I developed after the War and I just needed to avoid strenuous activity. I didn’t think much of it, but then I read the book and realized that it usually flared up whenever you watched me.”

Scoffing, Draco turns and stalks into the kitchen. Walking past the boiling kettle, he throws a cabinet door open and grabs a mug, his hand trembling.

“Interesting how my health suffers when I see the bastard who quite literally carved me open.”

“I was eating dinner when I thought I was going to die of a heart attack at 23,” Potter continues. Draco pulls the drawers out, unable to find a single bag of tea for several excruciating moments. “The next day, I was reading about your mother’s death on the Daily Prophet. That was the first sign.”

Grabbing a rag and wetting it, Draco wipes the countertop even as he’s just done so last night.

“When Ginny saw you on the street during our date and extended her hand toward you, you shook it. But your heart ached.

“I saw you looking at the picture of Ginny and I kissing on the front page of Witch Weekly. Your hair was brown and your back was curved, but I saw you. Your heart ached.

“When I announced my engagement to her on the Battle of Hogwarts’s 10th Anniversary, you were clapping along with everyone else. But your heart ached.”

Draco throws the rag on the counter. The kettle whistles, a piercing sound. “What’s your point? Are you here purely to flaunt your relationship and imply that I’m in love with Ginevra Weasley? If so, I got it. Thank you so very much, it’s been enlightening. Now get out.”

“The point is,” Potter says, lifting the kettle off the burner to pour it into Draco’s mug, placing his tea bag in, “unless the article about you being gay was wrong, Ginny isn’t the one you’re in love with.”

“What arti—” Draco stops. “That was years ago.”

His sexuality was leaked to some irrelevant gossip rag, not even making the front page. Nobody noticed, nothing changed, and it hasn’t entered his mind in what feels like forever until Potter reminds him.

“I remember.”

“You—” Draco frowns. His eyes strain on the cup of tea until they hurt. He squeezes them shut, sighing. “It doesn’t prove anything. Perhaps I’m jealous of my childhood nemesis having a better life than me, ever thought of that?”

“Yeah,” Potter says, “I’ve thought about this a lot. Which is why I’m here. To make sure.”

Draco takes it in, then, unable to help himself, curls his lips at Potter and his attire. At his artfully gelled hair, his hanging bow tie, the elegant boutonniere on the lapel of his dark blue suit. His empty ring finger.

“Couldn’t you have chosen a better date to make sure? Preferably before your wedding day?”

Potter steps closer. A respectable distance away, but closer.

“I could’ve, but I spent most of those days in denial. Then the dots connected and I couldn’t deny it anymore, so I decided to just go through with the wedding regardless, be with the woman I loved. Hoped that maybe the odd emotions I had would go away,” he shrugs, raising his eyes to meet Draco’s. “Saw Ginny at the end of the aisle and, well, I couldn’t stop thinking that it should’ve been someone else. All this time, I’ve thought that she didn’t feel… right in my arms, but I pushed it down. And there she was in that white dress.

“Seeing that today was the last straw. I had to leave.”

Draco’s breath catches in his throat. Swallowing it down, he grabs his mug, scooping out the tea bag just to have something to do. He takes a sip without blowing, ignoring its scalding heat.

“That was stupid.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Draco can feel a headache building. “That was a horrible decision. I never imagined you—you!—out of all people, could be this irresponsible. What the fuck.”

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. Merlin, that poor fucking woman. If your purpose here is to make me feel bad for Ginevra and all 300 of her relatives for once in my life, you’ve succeeded, congratulations.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say that to me, say that to—oh, you’d do what you want no matter what I say, wouldn’t you?”

“Depends on the situation.”

“‘Depends on the situation,’ he says,” Draco mocks, getting a carton of milk from the fridge to save his bitter, bitter tea. Potter doesn’t reply. Stirring the milk in, Draco lets out a heavy sigh.

“What do you want me to do about this?” He says. “I didn’t make you run out of your own wedding. If you expect me to take the blame for your inane decisions, the first person I Floo wouldn’t be the Aurors, but Ginevra Weasley herself.”

A small smile graces Potter’s lips. “I don’t expect anything from you but honesty.”

Draco squints.

“And how will you know if what I say is a lie? Will you reject my genuine answer if it’s not what you want to hear?”

“That won’t be a problem,” Potter says. “I trust your heart will speak the truth for us both.”

There’s a pang in Draco’s chest, and judging from the twitch of Potter’s brow, he can feel it too. Not another word is said, the two men merely facing each other from across a tiny kitchen, considering. Draco can feel the warmth of sunlight beaming through the little window and coating his nape as he leans against the sink, earl grey on his tongue. Lovely citric notes of bergamot drift up his nose. He closes his eyes. What to do, what to do.

Weightless oxfords clack against the yellowed tiles, clear and bright in Draco’s ears. Fabric rustles as Potter slips a hand into his pocket only to retrieve it a second later. Draco lets himself be cornered, barely glancing at the wool-clad arms caging either side of his waist. A clink catches his attention, however, and he tilts his head to the left.

Millimeters beside Draco’s hand on the counter, glinting in the sun, is a wedding band. Draco knows Potter and Ginevra’s in and out, has examined the picture on that day’s issue of the Daily Prophet more times than he should have. He knows the marquise droplets of Ginevra’s gems and the chevron curve of her ring, the blankness of Potter’s own band a dream and a question in his mind.

The band that’s resting on the counter is different. Rustic gold and a fissure in the middle, the fertile earth splitting open to reveal a stream of diamonds, a sparkling river. Draco sets his mug to the side and holds the ring up close, his finger smoothing over the grooves of its texture.

“Did you make a stop at a jewelry store before breaking into my home?” He asks.

“No,” Harry murmurs. Draco looks at him in surprise. “I’ve had this with me for months.”

A pause.

“I thought you said you were in denial.”

“I was, but I knew, somewhat, that I wanted someone else,” Harry’s head lowers, slow and careful, until his forehead rests against Draco’s shoulder. “I told myself that I just liked the way it looked, had to get it in case I didn’t want the other ring anymore. But I got it a size smaller. Been carrying it in my pocket ever since.”

Draco’s heart throbs and throbs. Large hands circle his waist, bunching up the back of his sweater and pressing him close, chest to chest. A blanket of pure heat envelops his body as he breathes in the timeless saffron and neroli of cologne, half-lidded eyes pinned on the band he’s given. Oh, dear, he thinks, and again when it settles at the base of his ring finger with ease, as if it belongs there and never left. Oh, dear.

[lalainajanes]

For “neighborhood block party” on my bingo card! This one takes place in the same universe as Sweet As (quirky supernatural small town fic in which Caroline’s a dryad who owns a bakery and Klaus is the leader of the local werewolf pack and mates are a thing ;) ) though it’s more of a prequel.

The Fall Festival

Before he’d met Caroline, Klaus’ mornings had fallen into a predictable pattern.

He would wake up at the same time, wander into his kitchen to find a full pot of coffee and a pack member or two. Occasionally, there was an emergency. Sometimes there was an issue where his opinion was wanted. Most often, his visitors would come with a problem that could have been solved without Klaus’ input, though he’d never complained.

Klaus had been an outsider once, had become pack leader when the father he’d never known had died, and Marcel had shown up at his door in Chicago. At the time, Klaus had resented the disruption to his life.

Now, he doesn’t understand how he’d survived so long, locking himself in a cage every month.

His mother had explained his parentage when he’d turned twelve, and it had been revelatory, explained why he’d always struggled to wield even a hint of the power that came naturally to his siblings. Esther had told him what to expect, that he’d be dangerous, but she’d refused to tell Klaus anything about the man who’d passed him the werewolf genes, hadn’t even supplied a name.

The rift in their relationship had begun there, had only widened since. When Klaus had chosen to accept his birthright, he’d ensured he’d never be welcome in the home he’d grown up in. He’d never regretted it.

Most of his siblings happily defy their parents to visit, and the pack had become another sort of family.

Three months after Caroline had opened her shop, Klaus had trekked out into the forest to deal with one of the rare emergencies. A scent had been picked up on a security run two days prior, of a young, unfamiliar wolf.

A wolf who proved to have a gift for hiding.

Klaus and his inner circle had been trying to track the interloper, had to find them before the next full moon. His pack had long-standing agreements with the humans and the various local supernatural sects. A young wolf could have jeopardized the easy peace the town enjoyed without meaning to. Klaus and his pack would have had to pay the price.

Young wolves could not always assert human will over animal instincts, which could be deadly if any prey crossed their paths.

And to a werewolf, just about anyone can be prey.

That morning Klaus had decided to head west to an area of that woods that was dense with trees and wildlife. His pack usually leaves it be, understanding that there would be objections if they were to start messing with the local ecosystems. Besides, it offers little opportunity to run, something a werewolf is always eager to do when given a chance.

He’d been moving slowly and silently, examining the ground for prints that looked similar to the ones they believe belong to the young wolf. He’d frequently paused to see if he could pick up a scent, but he’d grown distracted.

Klaus had come across a grove of trees emanating a strange warmth. Curious, he’d rested his hand on the trunk of one.

Only to have the rough bark shiver under his touch and melt away, growing soft and smooth and scented of cherries and spice rather than earth.

He’d snatched his hand back and turned away as soon as he’d realized what was happening, had awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, and wondered if it would be cowardly to flee. He’d heard rustling, soft footsteps, the glide of fabric over skin. Then a woman’s voice, dripping with amusement, “You can turn around now. I’m dressed.”

Klaus had turned slowly. “My apologies. I was unaware I was trespassing.” He’d averted his eyes, realizing that “dressed” wasn’t entirely accurate. The woman had only slipped on a robe, a pale green confection of a garment made from silk and lace, loosely belted and short. He’d looked closely enough to realize she was gorgeous, with a riotous mess of blonde curls framing a flushed face and friendly, curious blue eyes.

His body had reacted, and Klaus had forced himself to begin breathing through his mouth. Her scent had clouded his thoughts, tempted him to step closer.

He hadn’t understood what was happening, why he was reacting so strongly to a stranger.

Klaus might have grown particular about who he invited into his bed, but he was hardly inexperienced or prone to awkwardness in the presence of beautiful women.

He’d gone a little wild when he’d become pack leader five years ago, had freely partaken in pleasure just about any time it was offered. Offers were still coming, but Klaus had largely lost interest, leery of complications that could occur with attachments. At the time, he’d only occasionally indulged when an alluring visitor caught his eyes.

Which hadn’t happened in months.

Why was this woman, not even a wolf, so very compelling?

When he’d clasped his hands behind his back and carefully fixed his attention to just above her forehead, she’d made a noise, an aborted laugh. “Wow, never met a shy werewolf before. You guys are usually super quick to get naked.”

Klaus’ eyes had swung to hers, shocked and a touch suspicious, “How do you know I’m a werewolf?”

Her head had tilted towards the trees, “It’s hard to explain. When I’m in that form, connected to the ground, there’s a heightened amount of intuition. Most supernatural beings pull power from some variety of natural elements, and I can usually tell which one, feel the energy.”

“You’re a dryad,” he’d said slowly. He’d remembered reading about them as a child, in one of his mother’s books. An old, thick tome, with tiny print, that detailed the origin stories of all the known species that walked the earth. He hadn’t recalled much more than the basics, had made a mental note to check if the library in his home had a similar volume.

“Guilty,” she’d chirped. She’d held out her hand, “Caroline Forbes. I bought the bakery in town a couple of months ago. You should stop by sometime.”

He’d shaken her hand, that contact enough to ensure Caroline would never stray from Klaus’ thoughts for long.

That brief brush of her skin on his had spurred a change in Klaus’ morning pattern.

He’d visited Caroline’s bakery the next day. Had rolled out of bed, earlier than he had since he’d been obligated to attend morning meetings, and driven to town. Caroline’s business had been easy to spot, featuring a cheerful striped awning in the same shade of green of the robe Klaus had spent far too many minutes contemplating.

He’d slid into a booth shortly after Caroline had opened up. She’d noticed him, appeared pleased to see him and wiggled her fingers in greeting.

And thus began a new routine.

* * * * *

Caroline smiles at Klaus as soon as he arrives. His face immediately grows suspicious.

Oops. She might have overdone it. Klaus is weirdly adept at spotting ulterior motives, and Caroline needs a teeny, tiny favor.

Which is not to say that she doesn’t look forward to his morning visits. More often than not, they’re the highlight of her day. She happens to have gotten a delivery late yesterday afternoon, one that’s essential to pulling off something she’s been working on for ages, so she’s particularly excited about it. She needs to borrow Klaus’ artistic skills to realize her vision.

That she’ll get to spend a little extra time with him is just a bonus.

He walks up to the counter and leans against it. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

She tilts her head to the side, uses her sweetest tone, “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be accusing me of such a thing?”

She spots the twitch at the corner of his mouth though he maintains an impressively deadpan expression. “Honestly, I suspect you’re usually plotting something.”

Caroline had to give him that one, “Okay, true. I might need a hand from someone who’s more artistically inclined than I am. AKA you.”

“What can I do for you?”

She smiles again, kind of glad that there’s a counter between them because Klaus’ lack of hesitation has her feeling all sorts of fuzzy things, and she very well might have thrown herself at him.

Which is not a thing that they do, though she’s hoping that changes at some point.

“I bought some lights and paint for the window. I splurged on it because it’s supposed to be really pretty, kind of sheer, and shimmery. I was hoping to paint some leaves and vines around the borders of the window, but my test runs were… subpar.”

“Still a bit upset about the Summer Solstice party then?”

Caroline glares without any real ire, “Shh. You know that’s a sore subject!”

She’d been woefully unprepared for just how serious the town took its celebrations. The Summer Solstice had been her first one. She’d nailed the food, had baked up tiny, fluffy meringues, served them with a vanilla peach compote, topped with fresh whipped cream and toasted almonds. Everyone had raved about them. But a few people – mostly the members of the town council who are generally unpleasant and excessively gossipy, in Caroline’s not at all biased opinion – had made snide remarks about her lack of decorations.

She’d been mortified even though it totally hadn’t been her fault. She’d miscalculated, not yet grasping just freaking slow the mail was. She’d had a ton of fresh flowers, but the paper lanterns and candy-colored trays and linens she’d ordered had arrived two days too late.

Caroline’s determined to do better this time and prove that party planning is her super-power, damn it.

Klaus is shrugging out of his jacket, “Show me to the supplies, love.”

“You’re the best!” she exclaims, reaching over to flip up the top of the counter. “Come on, it’s all in my office. Along with my very bad diagrams but feel free only to use them as a guideline. Far be it for little ‘ol me to tell a professional artiste what to paint.”

“Willing to cede control?” he teases. “Shocking.”

Caroline shrugs, “Guess I must trust you.”

Whoops. Caroline means it, but it’s a weighty thing to say.

Klaus has stepped passed the counter, bent to stash his jacket underneath. He freezes, head bowing before he up back at her. “I’m pleased to hear that,” he replies.

Caroline’s teeth sink into her lower lip, and she glances around. A few people are watching her curiously and, though she hates it, she knows now is not the time to dig into anything serious.

Though she’s not sure how much longer she’ll be able to resist.

Caroline clears her throat, heading to her office. She unlocks the door, stepping back to gesture Klaus go in first. She turns around to check that April’s come out from the kitchen, motions that she’ll be back out in ten, and then she joins Klaus.

He’s eyeing the sofa, “How often do you sleep here, sweetheart?”

“How do you… oh, right. Werewolf.”

Caroline’s pretty careful not to think about Klaus’ senses. Intellectually she knows he can probably sniff out all sorts of secrets, that the way she reacts to him is entirely unsubtle. She lives in purposeful denial to avoid melting into a puddle of mortification.

“Rarely. I did it a lot when I was scrambling to get this place opened. Now it’s pretty much just the night of the full moon, or the odd day when there’s a big complicated order.”

“Why the full moon?”

Caroline snorts, “Has it escaped your notice that you guys pack away a ton of food after the full moon? It’s my most profitable day of the month.”

She leans down and hefts the box of paint. Klaus steps forward, “Here, let me.”

Caroline lets him take it off her hands, “You know I’m probably at least as strong as you are, right?”

“I had read that, yes.” His eyes flit over her speculatively, and not for the first time in his presence, she thinks about how nice it would be if telepathy were in her bag of tricks. She knows what she hopes he’s thinking. Caroline’s been spinning fantasies that run the gamut from sweet and sensual to hot and frantic since Klaus first wandered into her grove. She’s pretty confident her interest is reciprocated, but he gives her mixed signals.

Caroline’s naturally tactile. She tends to crank that up when she’s in flirt mode. Klaus is careful to stay at a polite distance. He doesn’t cringe when she touches him, but he doesn’t touch her back either.

It’s confusing.

Caroline had gotten tipsy and whiny about the situation last weekend at the bar. Bonnie had been sympathetic and knowing, refused to spill what she clearly knew. Bonnie had only said, in that infuriatingly cryptic way witches have, that Caroline would figure it out when the time was right.

She and Bonnie haven’t known each other long, but Caroline had sensed she wouldn’t budge. She’d pouted until Enzo had arrived with shots.

Things had gotten a little hazy after that.

“Ah, so you’re just gentlemanly?” Caroline teases, watching as Klaus sets the box on her desk. He’s focused on it, so she takes the opportunity to ogle a little. His grey t-shirt is thin and snug. She’s going to be thinking about the way his muscles shift underneath it when she’s alone.

“Something like that.”

“Well, never let it be said that Caroline Forbes doesn’t pay her debts. I’ll save you a bunch of the desserts I’m making for the festival. I’ve perfected them over the last few days – pumpkin with pecan crumble, a delicious marriage of the best fall pies.”

He shakes his head, a laugh rumbling from low in his throat. “Sounds delicious. Perhaps you’ll save me a dance? There’s always a bonfire once the shops close down.”

Huh. That seems like an unmistakable signal. One Caroline hadn’t expected.

She swallows her initial instinct, the urge to joke about how Klaus must have decided she doesn’t have cooties after all. Caroline licks her lips, wonders if he can hear that her heartbeat has quickened. “I’ll make sure my dance card has a spot for you.”

* * * * *

Klaus finds Marcel in the living room when he comes downstairs on the night of the fall festival. He stops short, dread growing in his stomach. He’d spoken to Marcel earlier, and he hadn’t mentioned stopping by. “What happened?”

Marcel’s eyes narrow, “Is that a new sweater?”

Klaus doesn’t understand how that’s relevant to Marcel’s presence in his home.

He lifts his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for an answer to his question. Marcel grins, “Alright, not in a talkative mood. Heard. No disaster, don’t worry. I added an extra few cases of wine to the regular order last month, remember? Just here to grab them for the festival.”

Right. The pack operates several businesses but nothing with a storefront in town. On festival nights, the shops on Main Street decorate and offer free food or small gifts to anyone who wanders in. The town council covers the food available in the square, and Klaus’ pack supplies a significant portion of the booze (only fair since Klaus is quite sure they partake more than most). For this one, if he remembers correctly, they’re providing mulled wine and spiked hot chocolate while Enzo’s bar will set up kegs.

Klaus nods, relaxing. He glances at the clock on the wall. “I trust you can handle the delivery yourself?”

“Why, got a hot date? I don’t remember you ever doing much more than making an appearance at one of these things. This eagerness to arrive early is interesting.”

Marcel sounds far too knowing. To an extent, as the pack’s second in command, it’s his job to know Klaus’ business. He suspects what Caroline means to Klaus, that his wolf has chosen her, but Klaus has never confirmed it.

He’s been resisting the pull, exerting iron control over his instincts, maintaining a careful amount of distance even when he ached to return her affectionate overtures. And it’s not because he doesn’t want her, but because the bond is permanent. Unbreakable, once it’s solidified.

Klaus’ path is set. Caroline’s not bound by the same magic, not unless she wants to be.

“Obviously, you have this under control,” Klaus says, spinning on his heel. “Lock the door when you leave.”

Marcel’s laughter follows him out of the house.

* * * * *

Caroline’s nervous. More nervous than she’s ever been before a date, and it’s not even a date. She’d selected her outfit carefully. Her cream sweater dress has a wide neckline that’s prone to slipping off her shoulders. She’d selected dark tights for underneath and thigh-high boots, which are saved from being too risqué for a family-friendly event by their minimal heel.

She’s been getting compliments all evening, had smiled politely. She’d picked the outfit with one person in mind.

At nine, Caroline locks up, rushing into her office to let her hair down and touch up her makeup. A tap on the window comes at 9:06. She tucks a curl behind her ear, takes a deep breath, “You are not fifteen. Get it together,” she mutters to herself before she flicks off the lights.

She waves at Klaus through the window, grabs the small box where she’d packed up the portion of tartlets she’d saved for him and her keys.

Main Street is brighter than usual, street lamps lit and wrapped with strands of tiny white lights. Caroline steps outside, her eyes running over Klaus. He’s changed since this morning into darker jeans and a navy sweater. Is it a date outfit? She kinda thinks so.

“Hi,” Caroline says, impressed it’s not a squeak. She doesn’t trust herself to open with a compliment about how he looks – her brain-to-mouth filter is unreliable even when she’s calm, cool, and collected. Instead, she gestures to the windows, “Your paintings were a hit.”

Klaus doesn’t seem to hear her. He swallows heavily. “You look…” he trails off, but Caroline’s not an idiot. She knows exactly what the tiny ring of gold around his irises means.

Caroline’s grateful for the confirmation that her attraction isn’t at all one-sided. Her cheeks heat, “What, this old thing?”

He reaches for her, and Caroline’s heart stutters, mouth going dry. It’s the first time Klaus has made any sort of move, and it feels like the start of something she’ll want to remember.

Though she’s not capable of explaining that certainty at the moment. Caroline can’t claim to have a quiet mind, she’s capable of laser focus, but there’s usually a whole list of thoughts and questions in the background, each clamoring for attention.

Right now, there’s only Klaus and the shrinking distance between their bodies.

His palm lands on her upper arm, warm even through her sweater. His fingers tighten, skimming down, lingering when they meet the bare skin of her wrist before his palm meets hers.

She exhales shakily, returning the pressure. Caroline sways forward until her knees brush Klaus’, and his free hand clasps hers. He leans forward, and the hint of stubble on his face rasps against her cheek. “You are overwhelmingly lovely,” he murmurs, mouth brushing her temple.

Caroline’s lips part, and she’s seconds away from turning her head and rising to her toes when Klaus takes a half step away. He pivots until they stand shoulder to shoulder. He keeps one of her hands, and Caroline follows his lead when he begins to walk towards the town’s center.

She barely registers her surroundings, couldn’t name any of the people they pass or describe the decorations. She only feels Klaus’ hand, the solid strength of him next to her, is only aware of the addictive mix of comfort and anticipation fizzing through her veins.

He pulls her into his arms when they reach the makeshift dancefloor next to the bonfire.

It doesn’t feel like a first dance.

There’s no awkward shuffling or hesitant hand placement. Klaus’ grip on her changes, fingers threading between hers, and he wraps his arm around her waist. Caroline’s body melts into Klaus’, her hand rising to rest against his chest. She shivers when his head dips, his breath skimming across her bare shoulder.

There’s music, but it’s not important. She and Klaus move together seamlessly, closer than they probably should be in public, lost in their own world.

No one dares to disturb them.

[johannesviii]

This is a long post about Shaman King I started to write ages ago and I don’t have a good title for it

Let me tell you about Shaman King for a few minutes, okay. Because the new anime adaptation is coming in like 3 months and I’m still not ready for it. Also I started to write this post 5 years ago just because I re-read the whole thing at the time and it’s been in my drafts since then. Oops

But yeah Shaman King was the very first fandom I got into when I first had a real internet access, around 2003-2004. I was around fifteen. The manga was still going. And in retrospect, it was full of problems. Among other things:

Not enough female characters & questionable choices for most of the ones who actually have a part to play in the plot

A black character drawn with big lips (see above), and I REALLY HOPE this is gonna get fixed in the new anime ; I mean even the author stopped drawing him like that a few years ago when he did the “remix tracks” extra chapters so come on please

An imaginary native american tribe who, while pretty cool, is still imagined by a Japanese dude in 1999 soooo yeah there’s some rough corners here and there (edit: got some anon hate about that but I'm sorry, "ancient aliens" tropes always make me uncomfortable)

An art quality which gets worse and worse over time due to deadline pressures and an increasingly exhausted author

Was stopped before it could reach its natural conclusion (the author drew an actual ending years later and tbh it’s great so I’m putting this very low on the list)

So yeah. Manga from 1999. Problematic. Aged badly. It happens.

BUT.

In retrospect, most of it is such a kick in the metaphorical butt of shonen manga as a whole I can’t believe it was competing against Naruto and One Piece at some point?? Like

It’s a shonen so it plays the "dramatic and sudden power jump” game, but it uses it to reach a surprising conclusion (in the “new” ending I mean)

Most of the characters are “shamans” which means they can see ghosts and spirits, and they use them to fight, to work, or to help other people. This is a manga in which you’re gonna see a Russian shaman channeling a Vodyanoy spirit into a drum to create a torrential flood. You don’t see that in every manga

It’s stated right away that no shaman can be truely, irredeemably bad, because only good-natured people can see ghosts and spirits.

So, no matter how bad a villain may be, they must have had a good nature once even if they look like a complete bastard at the moment.

How far is the author willing to go with that concept? Pretty far

Even without talking about the main villain and how the story ends because, duh, spoilers... Like

My favorite character, who gets a full redemption arc later, cuts someone open in his first chapter

He’s one of the good guys 10 volumes later

Speaking of which the amount of gore in this manga has to be seen to be believed, Jump would never let this happen nowadays

If you’re wondering why this is in the “positive” (......?) list it’s because I was 14/15 and all kids that age crave blood and angst

The main character, Yoh, pictured above, is very laid-back, and I mean very. He listens to the in-world equivalent of Bob Marley and constantly wears big headphones. Also he wears sandals, and sometimes there’s a weed leaf drawn on his t-shirt

His parents arranged a mariage between him and a girl shaman even though they’re still teenagers, so this would have potential for High Drama - but surprisingly enough it turns out they like each other and after that he just goes around saying “this is my future wife” and she’s like “hello if you touch him I’m going to end you”

It sounds weird and it......... is, tbh, but it’s also refreshing among all the “ugh, girls, yuck” tropes that nearly all shonen mangas used to have at the time

Yoh’s main goal in life is to live with minimal effort

When his grandfather tells him he must train to participate in a shaman tournament which happens every 500 years, because the winner gets a wish granted by the Great Spirit, he decides his wish will be to make everybody’s life easy so that nobody will ever be forced to work or do shit they don’t want to do to survive anymore

Yoh Asakura is a Millenial icon don’t @ me

Speaking of which

Almost everyone in this series is broke as f█ck

Yoh owns a big house but that’s only because the price was ridiculously low since it’s the most haunted place in Tokyo and nobody else wants to live there. The house is constantly full of other characters (including enemies) who have literally nowhere else to go

The only important character who isn’t broke has money because his family is super rich but he hates all of them because they’re all bastards so it’s super awkward

Another character bought a really cool motorbike but he’s going to be in debt for the next 40 years

Also he’s a hobo

And also bi

What I’m trying to say is: relatable

Also the tournament is held by an imaginary Native American tribe. They’re also broke. All of them. The two judges who are in charge of the main characters live in a cramped appartment and often try to sell souvenirs in the street to pay the rent

I know that’s hashtag problematic but I still love them I can’t help it

Just like in most shonen mangas the hero seems to amass a big collection of Friends but since everyone is a weirdo in a way or another and comes from all over the world it looks even funnier

At some point during the tournament, the main characters have to form small groups of three in order to participate to the next part. Yoh’s team is one of the strongest teams among the ones we’ve met at this point, and is composed of 1) Yoh, a laid-back sleepy kid wearing toilet sandals 2) the aforementioned bi hobo who’s sad because his current crush is in a rival team, and 3) a thirty-something tatooed guy with no legs and an IV drip and who looks like he hasn’t slept since 1997

Oh and they all wear adds for a bath house

Because remember: everyone’s f█cking broke

Spoilers for the mid-point of the manga but I need to talk about it because it encapsulates everything I used to love in it

You’ve been warned

So

At some point the main character, Yoh, is asked to choose between staying in the tournament or resurrect his rival

This is framed as some kind of very heavy, very huge dilemma. Like oh no what will he do. Will he give up his dreams and hopes. Will You Push The Button(tm)

So the choice is presented to him

In a very dramatic way

And he immediately goes “there’s a way to save him?? YES PLEASE”

He doesn’t hesitate a single second and drops the tournament in a heartbeat to save the guy

This scene greatly contributed to make me a better person I’m not even joking at all

I love Yoh

So anyway I don’t have a proper conclusion for this

Shaman King is very flawed and its flaws need to be acknowledged to fully appreciate all the good things in it, and the “old” fandom from more than 15 years ago was a very good formative experience for me because the forum I was on (which was nuked from the face of the internet by a hacker “looking for training grounds” (his words not mine, he posted it on our frontpage a full week before he did it) in 2005, rip) was full of people who were really into criticising every little aspect of the manga but still loved it dearly

And I think that’s a healthy way to enjoy things and I think we should bring this back

Anyway

Shaman King extremely flawed but full of good things

I still can’t believe it’s back

Johannes out

[usedtobe-angstyoikawa]

Tanabata

Itadori Yuji x latinx!gn!reader

Summary: you’re from Latin America and end up moving to Japan (cause your whole family is fucking dead hehe sorry). You feel sad and homesick but Itadori tries his best to cheer you up.

Warnings: I’d say none?

a/n: just to clarify, I am from Latin America and I know not everyone here is loud and touchy but I am and this was kind of a self inserted fic cause I feel that if I had to move to Japan it’d be really hard to get used to the people and their culture in general. Like japanesse people are known for being closed off and distant mostly because they’re very respectful and well behaved, whereas in Latin America people are more outgoing and kind of rude to be honest. Idk I think it’s an interesting contrast between these two cultures and Itadori has a bit of both and I love him so yeah enjoy (also I didn’t proofread this I’m very sorry)

———————————————————————

Being a foreigner student in Japan wasn’t easy, specially coming from a place like Latin America with such a different culture. When Gojo sensei found you in the middle of a loosing battle against a curse back in your country, you never would’ve thought he’d save you and take you with him to the other side of the world. You were grateful though, thanks to him you got to meet amazing people that understood what loosing everyone you loved was like. People who gradually became your friends and helped you through your hardest days without expecting anything back. But you still missed your home, the food, the music and the people. Your people. Sometimes those thoughts made you feel guilty, but you couldn’t help but feel left out whenever Noraba made a reference about a tv show they all used to watch when they were kids, or when Megumi flinched and run away anytime you got too exited and accidentally raised your voice. Yuji was a great cook and would often make you try new dishes to cheer you up, but japanese food tasted so different to what you were used to it sometimes wasn’t comforting enough. You weren’t having a bad time but you definitely weren’t the happiest you’d ever been. You craved touch and warmth, you wanted to go dancing without being self conscious and stay up till sunrise.

The closest person to you was Yuji. You met him a few months after your arrival in Japan, apparently he’d been out on a ‘secret mission’ or at least that’s what Gojo had told you. The pink haired boy greeted you with a big smile and a lot of questions, you were surprised by his outgoing and warm personality at first but you immediately became good friends. You loved being around Yuji, he’d always let you hug him and didn’t seem to be affected by your voice volume. He reminded you of an old friend back home so it wasn’t hard to open up to him and tell him about your mixed feelings towards the cultural crash.

“I can’t say I get it ‘cause I totally don’t, I wasn’t forced to leave my country and leave behind everything I’ve known my whole life to try and start a new life on the other side of the world” he said while grabbing his chin and looking at the ceiling “ and I don’t think there’s a way to make you feel completely at home, I mean I can try recreating your country’s traditional dishes but I don’t wanna ruin that for you”

You’d tried that before but you could never find the right ingredients and there was always something missing, leaving you with and empty space in your chest. It seemed like every time you tried to do things to keep holding on to your culture the more distant you felt, as if the life you knew was forever lost.

“That’s it! We can go to the festival!” the boy next to you jumped and you stared at him wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Noraba didn’t tell you about it?” You shook your head no “This weekend starts the Tanabata festival, it was a chinese tradition at first but we’ve been celebrating it for a while. There’s gonna be a lot of food, cute decorations around the city and… oh!” Suddenly he was in front of you grabbing you by your shoulders “ WE HAVE TO MAKE A WISH”

And that’s how you ended up borrowing one of Nobara’s yukata and headed to the festival, Yuji right next to you. As soon as he saw you wearing the traditional clothes his face lit up and he grabbed your hand, dragging you to what he described as the best place in earth. Some of the second year students decided to tag along but you lost them in the crowd.

Yuji was right, it was fun. He showed you around and bought you different types of food, you played games and he told you about the japanese traditions. You slowly realized that maybe you’d judged his people wrong. Seeing kids running around, couples holding each other, and the dumb idiot’s bright smile made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Yes it was a different country, and yes the people there could be distant and a bit close minded, but they were also very nice and respectful, full of wisdom and spirituality.

Apparently it was this festival’s tradition to write down a wish on a colorful paper strip (tanzaku) and tie it onto a bamboo branch. The color you chose held a meaning and directed your wish towards it’s destination. You chose red, representing gratuity towards your parents and ancestors. Yuji chose yellow but he didn’t tell you what the color represented.

“You know there’s a Japanese legend my grandpa used to tell me every time during this festival” He said while you two walked down a path and heading to a bridge “Aparently there used to be two lovers, a cowherd and a weaver girl, that lived by a riverbank in China a long long long time ago. Before knowing each other they dedicated their time to their respective jobs, but once they got married they’d spend so much time together that they completely forgot about them. The girls father got so mad that he split the two lovers apart and exiled the boy to the other side of the river.” He stoped walking and you realized you’d reached the bridge and the two of you were now standing in the middle of it. “The girl cried and begged his father to let them see each other one more time and he agreed, allowing the lovers to meet every 7th of July. But when the date came they realized there was no way of crossing the river, ‘cause you know there was no bridge and they apparently didn’t know how to swim or maybe the tide was too strong and it would’ve been dangerous to…” he started rambling on about the possible ways the couple could’ve seen each other and you couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh, making the boy blush. “Anyways, a bunch of birds I don’t remember what type exactly but they helped the girl cross the river and she was able to meet his lover. Now we throw our bamboo branches to the river so they reach the sea and the gods can find them and read our wishes, hopefully they’ll make them come true.”

“It’s a beautiful story” he nodded and kept looking down at the river. Together you threw your branches and watched them get carried away downstream by the current.

“My wish was yellow, it represents friendship. I usually choose the red paper like you did, I like to make wishes for my parents and my grandpa.” You listened intently, he rarely spoke about his parents. “This time I decided to be a bit selfish and wished for our friendship to last forever and for you to feel at home.” He turned to you and dug holes in your sole with his brown eyes.

You stood there silent, not knowing what to say or how to react. Your heart was beating fast and your eyes were getting wet, but there was this indescribable feeling beginning to settle in inside of your chest. Itadori moved closer to you and cupped your cheek with his cold hand, hot breath fanning over your face.

“I promise I’ll try my best to make you feel at home”

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Shadow & Smoke***

Pablo Schreiber x Reader x Lewis Tan

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, SMUTTTT, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 5k

Summary: Eh.  🤷🏽‍♀️

Note: So this is a mixture of two firsts for me. This was inspired by the song Mr. Man by Alicia Keys. How did I do? 

I hope you guys enjoy this. Thank you so much for reading!   ❤️ 

 If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT and REBLOG. ❤️❤️

**Loosely Edited/Proofread**

 The nights were starting to blend together. It wasn’t that you were bored, but there was a routine in place that you’d become—too accustomed to. You were the type of woman who liked routine and normalcy, but you also liked the unpredictability that life sometimes offered. Being the girlfriend of one of the most, if not the most powerful and dangerous man in the city meant that you were always on his arm.

 Pablo liked to bring you along to business deals he needed to close. You thought it was to show you off, but it was really a more tactful reason than that. He did it to sift out who had the potential to be disloyal. His logic was if any of them dared to ogle you while he was there, then they’d have the balls to fuck him over in business.

“There’s a thin line between loyalty and disloyalty, and usually the deciding factor in it all came down to a pretty face.”

 If he wasn’t bringing you to handle business, you were being whisked to surprise shopping trips, extravagant trips, delectable eateries that charged a ridiculous amount of money for their dishes. Usually, every night, you were on his arm at one of his clubs as he showed his face and ate up all the adoration and respect one in his high position brought.

 You’d met him as a liquor sales rep almost four years ago. You walked into one of his clubs with the intent to convince him to purchase some of the alcohol you were peddling. From almost the minute he sat down, you were attracted to him. Who wouldn’t be? The man was almost seven feet tall, built like no one’s business, had haunting hazel eyes, and such a hypnotizing aura around him. He spoke, you listened, he smiled you gawked, he licked his lips, you shifted in your seat.

 By the time you got up to leave the club, he’d bought you out of everything, easily meeting and exceeding your quota for the month. His reason was he had to have you free for him because he hated competition of any sort. That was when you got the first glimpse of the man he was—a force to be reckoned with. An hour after you left, he’d already called you and scheduled himself for dinner that night. One dinner led to lunch the next day, then dinner that night, and a whirlwind weekend trip to France where you found out just how much of a force to be reckoned with he was.

 Flash forward four years later, and your role in his life had only increased, and your understanding of his role in the city among the mayor, governor, senator, and other heavy hitters had fully sunk in. Pablo “Shadow” Schreiber was at the top of the food chain. Everyone was either terrified of him or wanted to be with him.

 “You look incredible tonight, sweetheart.”

 Glancing to your left, you found Pablo’s eyes. Within them, there was a hint of mischief as well as a whole lot of desire. You leaned close to his face leaving barely an inch.

 “You’re welcome to look, daddy,” you replied a little above a whisper.

 At the mention of that word, Pablo’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as his eyes dropped to yours. Deciding to tease him, you trailed your tongue over your bottom lip, knowing that the long-wear lipstick you wore would stay in place. Pablo’s groan sounded closer to a growl, and with the sound, the heat in his eyes intensified.

 “Be careful, sweetheart.”

 “Boss.”

 Like clockwork, one of his henchmen interrupted. It was always a thing. The two of you would create this bubble of teasing and desire only to have it be popped by someone who needed something from him. You were attention-starved.

 Pablo looked from you and to Leo, his third. When Leo got his attention, he leaned down to whisper business. Rolling your eyes, you looked away and around the club. That was when you saw him. he was across the club leaning against the bar. In one hand, he held a drink and clasped between his pointer and middle finger was something rolled and lit. You couldn’t tell if it was a cigarette, a blunt, or something else.  Something said it was your second guess.

 You watched him raise the crystal glass to his lips. The smoke danced around his face creating an element of mystery that completely intrigued you.  From what you could see, he was checking out the club and the women inside. His eyes danced from one to the other, never resting long. Either none of them was what he liked, or he was searching for something—someone specific.

 When he brought the rolled substance to his lips, you watched as he took a long puff. Before he released it, his eyes moved to your area of the club. Clutching your drink glass, you watched him, unsure if he were looking at you. The stranger turned his body in your direction and slowly blew out the smoke. If he was mysterious before, he was now ten times so. Slowly the smoke cleared, and it was then you got a good look at his face. He was gorgeous.

 It had been a while since a face was able to stop you in your tracks. None had since Pablo’s. You lifted your glass to your lips and slowly drank down the Whiskey. The ice cubes in your glass gently bounced against your lip, giving you a slight chill as the heat of the alcohol deliciously burned you. As the liquid slinked down your throat, your eyes remained locked with the stranger at the bar.

 Time seemed to stop. The air became thick, so thick it was almost difficult for you to get a full breath. When you saw his tongue snake out to wet his lips, your eyes dropped to his mouth. A small smirk spread across his lips, and you could feel the smug coming off of him.

 Almost unconsciously, your tongue peaked out of your mouth and slowly traced the path around the rim of your glass. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip. Dipping your tongue into the glass, you used it to scoop up an ice cube to suck on. Gone was that small smirk. It was now a full-on grin. He was sexy, and though you knew you shouldn't be doing this, especially with Pablo right beside you, you couldn’t help it. He’d left you wanting for too long.

 Once the ice cube had melted, you looked away. His eyes were too hypnotizing, and the longer you looked into them, the more you wanted to risk Pablo’s wrath. Pablo gently rubbed your exposed thigh before he got up and walked off with Leo and Laith. You’d learned early that he was always busy, and his free time was not as plentiful as one would think a boss’s would be. You’d also learned that everything in his life took balance. You must have gotten spoiled when you were his top priority for the first two years.

 He went above and beyond, ensuring that you knew your value to him. He went to great lengths to make sure you felt special, loved, and prized above all else. He did this with small, romantic gestures as well as grand displays and deeply satisfying intimate moments. By year three, he’d incorporated more and more work, more and more business trips. Every month he was on a plane. Depending on the reason for the trip, you’d be right beside him on the private jet, but four out of ten times, you were left under the watchful eye of Levi, his brother.

 Pablo looked back at you as he walked off. The look spoke volumes, and it was loud. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the glass he left behind and finished it. The music in the club and the patrons were your only entertainment for a while. When you looked back to the bar, the stranger was gone. You were left with an annoyed feeling that mixed with your slight arousal. You made a note to give Pablo an earful once you got home. If he was hell-bent on keeping you around, he’d better start acting like it.

 After twenty or so minutes, you’d had six fingers of Whiskey, and you were feeling better than a little nice. You were still alone at your table under the watchful eye of two of Pablo’s henchmen. Every so often, when a song came on that you liked, you got up and made your way to the VIP dancefloor. This was where the girls of the men Pablo employed hung out. You never mixed with them. You always got the feeling they either didn’t like you, or they wanted to be you--literally. Whatever it was, it always made you uncomfortable.

 “It’s both.”

 You looked back and found Danika, Levi’s long time girlfriend. The figure-hugging white dress she wore clung to her like a second skin. It matched perfectly with her ankle strap silver heels. She winded her hips to the music and smiled widely.

 “When did you get here?”

 “Maybe five minutes ago. Levi couldn’t allow me one night of quiet,” she informed.

 You closed the space to her. The two of you kissed cheeks like bougie wives did, only it wasn’t fake with the two of you. she and Levi had gotten together about the same time you and Pablo got together, and both of you found solace in each other because you both could relate to what the other was going through. When you were left alone because of Pablo’s trips, more times than not, she would be too because Levi would go as well.

 “They don’t like you, and they want to be you. it’s the same with me.”

 The two of you glanced at the group of girls huddled to your right and simultaneously rolled your eyes.

 “They think if we weren’t in the picture that Levi and Pablo would fuck them,” Danika voiced louder then necessary. She was putting them on notice.

 “Not knowing that even if we weren’t in the picture, they’d never look twice at them. There’s filet mignon, and there’s Kobe beef. Why chew on filet mignon when Kobe melts in your mouth?”

 The girls were trying not to look at you, but you knew they heard her. Danika had no chill and always spoke her mind. Pablo always thought that when you were together that you wouldn’t get into too much trouble. Little did he know Danika was not the angel she pretended to be. She’d gotten you into your fair share of trouble—trouble he knew about and trouble he didn’t.

 The two of you danced together when the song changed and played off each other. In no time, it was as if no one else in the club mattered. While you were wrapped up in the song and the buzz you were feeling from the Whiskey, you saw him again from the corner of your eye. This time he was in a shaded part of the club that was cloaked in dark color. The hues of red and purple decorated his skin but illuminated it enough for you to make out some of the detail. He was incredibly handsome.

 Before you knew it, you were dancing with Danika while eye fucking the man. You didn’t know what the hell had come over you. Never in the four years had you behaved like this with anyone else but Pablo. He was the only one who could bring out this wanton side of you—or so you thought. When Danika shrieked out with the change of the song, you looked away from him. You began to wonder if you should make a move.

 Glancing around the club, you clocked each of Pablo’s henchmen. His brother, Levi, his number two, was sitting watching Danika, who was now undressing him with her eyes. You knew any minute she’d go over, and they’d be practically fucking in the club. Danika pulled you close to her and whispered.

 “You have an audience.”

 Glancing at her, she coyly nodded her head over to the stranger. You tried not to smile, but it was useless.

 “Ah, you’ve noticed. He’s cute.”

 “D, stop.”

 “Why? It’s true.”

 You giggled and rolled your eyes but took a quick peek in his direction again. His eyes hadn’t left you.

 “I can distract Levi if you want to--.” She winked.

 “D! Stop it! That’s insane.”

 “Why? You’re not dead. Plus, what Shadow doesn’t know--,” she trailed.

 This was the kind of trouble Danika was good for. She was like the devil on your shoulder. You knew she’d fooled around on Levi and had heard stories of the fooling around Levi occasionally did when he felt that itch. Neither were stupid, but both were crazy, so they kept their misdealings on the low. You, on the other hand, had never fooled around behind Pablo’s back. You never had a reason to.

 As your eyes met the gorgeous stranger’s again, you bit your bottom lip. Until now, you thought. You caught the eye of Pablo walking back to the table. Leo was still beside him, yapping away, but he also had two other men surrounding him. he was still talking shop. Annoyance flared through you with a vengeance. Danika walked to Levi and sat on his lap before her lips met his. You walked back to the table and sat. You felt his eyes on you with every step you took.

You sat beside Pablo and tried to get past the unexpected thoughts you were having. Five minutes passed, but still, the thoughts persisted. When you looked up, the stranger was again in the shadows. Fuck it, you thought before you stood and took a step.

 “Where you going, sweetheart?”

 Painting a sugary smile on you responded. “Bathroom, baby.”

 Pablo nodded, but you felt him watching you. He was a secure man, but he was a possessive one. You walked through the crowd; all the while sneaking peeks at the stranger. You turned the corner and walked down the dark corridor that led to the bathroom. You knew this club like the back of your hand.

 Once inside the bathroom, you stood in front of the mirror and focused on toying with your hair. By the time you got to twelve, the door had opened, and in walked the stranger. You locked eyes from the mirror, and you damn near buckled. He was even more beautiful than you thought. His eyes were so brown and so damn penetrative that you decided to have his face between your thighs then and there.

 As if reading your thoughts, he locked the door and, in the same breath, pushed up behind you. You could feel his hardness pressing into your ass. His hands gripped your body, one at your breast, the other at your hip. The way he held you felt possessive like he owned you. The only one to have ever held you like that was Pablo. This was a man who knew what he wanted and took it. Pablo was that caliber of a man as well. It was intoxicating.

 His lips fastened onto your neck and immediately found your spot. When you felt his teeth graze your skin, you pulled away and glared at him through the mirror. Another smirk spread across his face. In seconds he’d had you turned around so you faced him. When his lips crashed to yours, he wasted no time delving his tongue into your mouth. Almost instantly, he took control of the kiss, and almost instantly, your lacy thong was drenched.  

 As if sensing this, you felt his fingers graze your inner thigh until it connected with your sex. You gasped on his mouth, which permitted him even more access to your mouth. Fuck, you thought. You were losing control of this situation. Pulling your lips from his, you looked at him. The fire in his eyes had heat rushing through you. You watched as he slipped his fingers into his mouth and sucked your juices off. Once his fingers were clean, he moaned.

 “You’re as sweet as you look.”

 Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him to you, but instead of claiming his lips, you began pushing his head lower. He knew what you wanted. In seconds he hoisted you into his arms and began lifting you higher into the air as if you weighed an ounce. One he’d placed you on his shoulders, he used his teeth to pull your thong to the side before he began his feast.

 “Fuck!”

 Slapping your hand across your mouth, you groaned and mumbled another curse into your palm. It was clear from the start he had no intention of going slow. The fast flicks of his tongue had your back arching, and the soft nibbles he dropped in had your free hand tangling in his hair. When you felt your back press onto the cold surface of the bathroom, you moaned again. You didn’t dare remove your hand from your mouth. You didn’t trust yourself. The stranger between your legs used both his hands and pried your thighs apart, so he was holding you against the wall spread like French doors.

 The thick pad of his tongue slowly licked you from opening to clit. When he got to your clit he sucked it into his mouth. He wasn’t gentle, and the increase in suction had you feeling the first stirs of your orgasm.

 “Yes, yes, right there. Fuck! Oh my god!”

 Feeling a scream coming, you plastered both your hands across your mouth to lessen the volume. He dipped his tongue into your core, and you lost your shit right then and there. When you began shaking, he didn’t slow down. He picked up the pace. You couldn’t believe someone could fuck a pussy with their tongue so quickly. After every three or four dips, he sucked your clit into his mouth as if he was a hoover vacuum.

 Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you knew you were seconds from coming. Without warning, you gripped his head and hugged it to your sex as you came. He moaned and slurped your flesh, accepting every drop you gave.

 “Shit, shit, Shiiiit!”

 If anyone busted the door down, you would have the hardest time explaining this away. There would be no way. Slowly his lips and tongue slowed their devil work, allowing you to come down. As if to keep you on your toes, he nibbled your clit every so often. The action always had you gasping, gripping his hair tighter and arching back every so slightly to finish with a satisfied moan.

 When he pulled his face back, his jaw was drenched, and there was a glistening layer of your juices outlining his mouth.

 “A man could get drunk off this sweet pussy, sugar lips.”

 Jesus Christ, you thought as new wetness with fresh arousal washed through you. His eyes dipped between your legs, and a grin spread across his face.

 “Wet for me again already?”

 Your gear watched vibrated, indicating you’d gotten a message. Glancing at it, you saw Danika’s message.

 MSG D: You have twenty seconds to get back, or your cover is kaput.

 “Fuck,” you groaned under your breath as you began wriggling in his arms.

 He lowered you to the floor then stepped back, giving you a little space. You fixed yourself as best you could and tried to ignore the wetness between your legs.

 “I take it reciprocity is dead.”

 You looked at him and dropped your eyes to see him holding his crotch. He was mouthwateringly hard. Part of you wanted to see what he was concealing behind those pants, but if you were caught, you knew Pablo would beat him to a pulp or worse.

 “Unfortunately, there’s no time. Thank you though, I really needed that.”

 You walked to the door, and as you passed him, you gently tapped his cheek.

 “Glad I could be of service.”

 You quickly rushed out the bathroom, and down the corridor, you’d walked down back to the main hall of the club. As you rounded the corner, you met three of Pablo’s men.

 “Everything okay?”

 “Perfect,” you answered with a smile before you pushed past them to make your way back over to Pablo, relishing in the decrease of tension in your body. It had been too long, indeed.

 The rest of the night progressed as it usually did. Pablo finished up the business thirty or so minutes before you left. The beautiful stranger with the skillful mouth was nowhere to be found. The two of you then made your way home. While in the car, Pablo’s hand found the space between your thighs.

 “I’m sorry about tonight.”

 “You know if work is the only important thing to you, then maybe we need to have a conversation about where that leaves us.”

 His grip tightened, making you flinch.

 “Y/N, come on,” Pablo began.

 “You haven't touched me in almost two months. If you’re not fucking me, who are you fucking?”

 Your words were laced with hidden poison. He knew it. Instead of speaking again, you both remained silent.

 When the car pulled up to your half a block townhouse, you walked ahead of him as he got updates from his men posted around the property. You were still pretty relaxed from your bathroom tryst, but you were angry with him as well. Once you made it to your shared bedroom, you stripped and got into the shower.

 A little less than halfway through, you felt Pablo’s hands around your midsection. Ignoring him, you continued soaping your body and paid no mind to his growing appendage that was pressing into your back. When you were out of heels, he towered over you like a giant. He kissed your neck and down to your shoulder then brought his lips back to your neck. He knew what he was doing, and he knew you knew as well.

 Pablo’s hand crept down your stomach to where your thighs met.

 “Pablo--,” you warned.

 “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I’ve been neglecting you. I’m sorry.”

Slowly his finger circled your clit, and it didn’t take long for your desire for him to unfurl.

 “Let me make it up to you,” Pablo whispered before he turned you to him. he kissed you with heat, passion, and intensity, all of which you felt tonight in that bathroom. In seconds Pablo had lifted you into his arms to his height and lowered you onto his throbbing cock.

 Both of you sighed, but the moment of savoring was short. Pablo took control of your body, moving you along his length with expert strength. People didn’t fear him for no reason. He was a beast of a man in stature and disposition. What started as slow deep strokes turned to frenzied shallow thrusts. You knew then this was not going to be a tender reacquaintance of your bodies. It was going to be the opposite.

 Pablo pressed you against the tile of the shower and dipped his tongue into your mouth to entangle with yours. His kiss commanded your surrender. You knew when you gave in, you wouldn’t be disappointed, so you did. Pablo groaned once he felt your surrender. It was then he sunk into your heat to the hilt. The scream you let out was loud, and it only fueled him further.

 Pablo pounded into you. Each time your bodies connected, the force of his stroke had your body bouncing up only to drop back onto his searing cock.

 “Fuuuuuck, daddy!”

 A growl escaped him before he turned and walked out of the shower to bring you back to your bed. When he dropped you onto the sheets, he flipped you onto your stomach and slammed back into you.

 “Aaaah!”

 “Mmm. Daddy missed you, sweetheart!”

 His voice was tender, but the way he pummeled your pussy spoke of something else. He was on a mission.

 “Don’t ever say that shit to me again. do you understand?”

 No words. Not liking it, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back so your back had the perfect inward arch.

 “I can’t hear you, sweetheart. Do you—understand?”

 You vigorously nodded. He was so deep you couldn’t muster any words.

 “Words, Y/N.”

 “Yes, daddy. Yes!”

 “Good girl.”

 As if this was a reward for your compliance, he rotated his hips, so you felt every inch of his desire as it marked every crevice inside of you. You doubted anyone had ever made you feel this good.

 Your moans, pants, and groans melded together. The sounds filled your room, and you knew anyone outside could hear you. It turned Pablo on even more to know that everyone could hear how good he was fucking you. You didn’t care who knew how good he made you feel. When he began jackhammering into you, you saw stars and clenched around him as your orgasm violently ripped through you.

 “Fuck me!”

 On command, he did just that to the point where you became hoarse, and you didn’t know what day it was. When you couldn’t take another orgasm, you dropped to the bed, but Pablo kept plowing into you. His stoked became sloppy, and you knew he was close. When he came, he grunted loudly, nearly terrifying you with the loudness of it. He thrust forward as if he were trying to rip you apart. The feel of his love inside of your canal nudged you over the edge to your final release. Pablo dropped kisses along your back before he rolled off of you to lie on his back. That was how the two of you fell asleep. Both too exhausted to even cover yourselves.

 The next day when you woke up, your body hummed with satisfaction. After checking your messages and emails, you took a quick shower and wrapped in one of your robes, then made your way down to breakfast. You were starving. It was a regular sight to see several of Pablo’s men through the house; you never batted an eye to it. Often times, they spoke and nodded their heads in respect as you passed, and you always reciprocated that politeness. There was no need to be a bitch.

 When you made it to the dining room, you saw Pablo already sitting there.  When he saw you, he smiled softly. You walked over to him and bent, placing a sweet kiss on his lips. When you began to back away, he dropped his hand to your ass and held you there to deepen the kiss. You both moaned quickly, getting lost in each other. All was forgiven.

 “Good morning, sweetheart.”

 “Good morning, baby.” Pablo kissed you once more, and as you were moving to the seat beside him, he pulled you to the space in front of him on the table. Your ass had the china clattering loudly.

 “What’re you doing?”

 “I’m hungry.”

 That was all he said before he pushed you back onto the table and spread your thighs.

 “Pablo--,” you began before the rest of your sentence fluttered away once his lips connected with your sex.

 A soft moan escaped you, and any protest faded. You rested on your elbows and enjoyed the feel of him between your thighs.

 “Mmmm, yes, baby. Fuck, that feels so good.”

 Pablo knew just what to do to set you on fire and what to do to tease you. he was in the mood to tease you. After a few minutes of teasing, you wanted more and had no problem letting him know. You gripped his head, held his hair, and began rocking your sex across his mouth. Pablo moaned and allowed you to use his face to your delight. Every few swipes, he slurped your flesh, sending shivers through your body and bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

 “Mmm, yes, daddy, right there.” You looked at him, and your eyes met. The man was temptation. His hand crept up to grip your breast as he forcefully sucked your clit into his mouth.

 The action had you remembering the bathroom at the club.

 “Mmm, shit, baby. You’re gonna make me come.”

 You bucked across his mouth and closed your eyes to fully enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. In a matter of seconds, Pablo’s intent shifted from teasing, and seconds later, you were coming. He moaned and lapped up every drop.

 “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

 “Wow, when you said to come over for breakfast, I thought you meant pancakes and eggs, not sugar and spice.”

 Your eyes flew open at the new voice. From upside down, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You closed them and opened again, but the sight was the same.

 “Around here, sugar and spice is the only thing ever on the menu,” Pablo replied.

 He kissed your inner thigh then tapped it. Snapping out of your frozen state, you sat up, fixed yourself, and chanced a look back. As sure as the sun was shining, the stranger from last night was standing at the other end of the table with a satisfied grin on his face.

 “You took your time getting over here,” Pablo said as he walked over to him.

 You watched the two men embrace as manly men did. The whole time you stood there, stunned and speechless. Your boyfriend was chatting up and laughing with the man you’d allowed to bury his face between your thighs.

 “Come here, sweetheart.”

 On shaky legs, you walked to the two men, all the while gripping the collar of your robe.

 “Y/N, meet my best friend, the one man I trust with everything next to Levi,” Pablo informed. With every word, your eyes widened.

 The stranger held his hand out to you with a smile. “Lewis,” he said.

 Fighting the shock, you took his hand and shook it. “Although the pleasure is all yours, I’m glad to finally meet you,” Lewis teased. You knew his words had a double meaning. Instead of speaking of it being nice to meet him too, the only thing in your head was the repetitive thought. 

You’re fucked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lee’s Note: Hopefully this was good, I’m still trying to find my groove again. How was this intro to Lewis and Pablo?  😬

[vampiregirl1797]

When his Blood Singer Moves to Town

Edward Cullen x Reader

GIF Not Mine

Word Count: 3,427

Click Here For Masterlist.

Summary: Y/N has been friends with the Cullen’s since she moved to town, and has had less than platonic feelings for Edward for just as long. When Bella moves to town and Y/N finds out that she’s Edward’s blood singer, she worries she’s at risk of losing her best friend and the person she’s in love with. But after a trip to Alaska, Edward reassures her that will never happen.

As cliche as it sounded, I’d had a terrible feeling in my gut when I’d woken up this morning. I didn’t know why, but my instincts were screaming at me to pull the covers over my head and go back to sleep. But alas, I didn’t listen, figuring it was just Monday blues. So I’d gotten dressed, crammed a cereal bar down my throat and waited for my best friend to pick me up like he did every morning. When he arrived, my mood lifted a little, as it always did whenever I was around him, but the feeling still lingered.

‘What’s the matter, honey?’ Edward asked as I fastened my seatbelt after greeting Emmett and Rose who were sat in the back seats.

‘I don’t know.’ I admitted, knowing it would be pointless to lie to someone who could literally read my mind, ‘I’ve just had a really bad feeling of dread since I woke up this morning.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s nothing.’ Edward said, giving me a comforting smile that made my heart skip a beat in my chest. 

‘He’s right. This is Forks, what’s the worst that could happen?’ Rose teased, trying to lift the somber mood that had settled over the car.

‘You’re right.’ I agreed, a small but genuine smile settling over my face. It was probably nothing.

//

I was in French first period with Jasper, Alice and Edward when the news reached us. A new girl had started today, Isabella Swan, though according to Ed, she’d been correcting everyone so far and asking them to call her Bella. I’d shrugged, not really that interested, but I’d felt a little sympathy for the girl starting half way through junior year in a small town— she’d be the talk of the school for the rest of the week at least. I didn’t envy her for that, but seeing as she was apparently Chief Swan’s daughter, I assumed she knew what she was getting into when she agreed to move here. 

After that, Edward had distracted me with questions about the book— A Tale of Two Cities—he’d suggested I read. The rest of the lesson was spent with us discussing the ins and outs, the best parts and the worst parts in French. The rest of the morning flew by, and none of us had a period with the new girl, so when it came to lunch a few of the Cullens were curious about the new girl, while I had maintained my uninterested stance. We all joined the lunch line, I grabbed myself a fruit salad and a bottle of water, still not very hungry and took my usual seat in between Emmett and Edward at our table. 

‘So, what does the new girl think of the school’s freaks?’ Emmett asked, his dimple appearing in his cheek as he grinned, ‘well freaks and Y/N.’ He winked at me and chuckled when I rolled my eyes at him.

Edward looked over to Bella at Emmett’s question, and for the first time today I look over too. I noticed the way she ducked her head and hid behind her long, brown curly hair as soon as Ed had looked over. I saw the girl next to her, Jessica Stanley, do the same thing and I saw the latter’s shoulders shaking, indicating that she was giggling. She was incredibly beautiful, but I could tell from her shy stature and her unwillingness to look back over here in case Ed was still looking at her, she wasn’t aware of it. I looked away when I felt Edward jerk so unexpectedly that the table vibrated a little.

‘I can’t read her thoughts.’ He sighed, frustration clear in his onyx eyes.

‘How bizarre.’ I mused, putting a piece of watermelon in my mouth and chewing.

‘Ooo finally, someone’s mind you can’t snoop on,’ Emmett’s voice was practically dripping with mirth.

‘I’ll bet the curiosity is killing you.’ Jasper teased, his southern drawl wrapping around his words and a rare smile appearing on his face. 

I assumed he could feel Ed’s frustration as well as any other emotions he wasn’t showing on his expression or through body language. And for the first time since that morning, the dread returned to my gut with such ferocity that it took my breath away. My eyes moved between Bella and Edward, the former shy but clearly interested, and the latter gleaming with curiosity and whatever other emotions Jasper had picked up on to implement his teasing. This is what my body had been warning me about— I was going to lose my best friend to the new girl.

//

The day had taken another abrupt turn when Edward had stormed out of Biology with a look of murder on his face. We usually met at his car after sixth period because we had a free after, so we just went home earlier. I’d hastily climbed in when he’d unlocked the Volvo and had remained silent as he’d driven faster than he normally did, muttering under his breath too low for me to hear. I’d finally spoken up when we reached the hospital, needing to know what was bothering him so much.

‘Ed, what’s going on?’ I asked, my voice tentative.

‘Bella, she’s my blood singer.’ He managed to get out between gritted teeth.

I felt my heart both sink and squeeze in sympathy for his plight. It sunk because I remembered the other half of that legend— it was said that if a humans blood sung for a vampire, that human was the true mate of said vampire. If that was the case then my earlier suspicions were right— I was going to lose Edward to Bella and the stab of pain in my chest almost took my breath away, but I pushed it aside. This wasn’t about me, this was about him.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ I reached out, my hand enveloping his right, where it rested on the steering wheel. When my hand came into contact with his, he flipped his palm up and held my hand in a gentle but firm hold.

‘I need to get away, my instincts want me to go after her, to kill her and I don’t know how long I’ll be able to resist while I’m so thirsty.’ He explained, his thumb moving back and forth over the back of the hand he was holding and I felt my lips lift into a smile when I realised he was comforting me when it was supposed to be the other way around.

‘I’ll come with you.’ It wasn’t like I had any parents to dictate my actions— they died a year ago, but I’d emancipated myself at fifteen, they were lovely people and I had loved them, but they just weren’t ready to be parents. 

Both of them worked full time jobs that took them away from home weeks at a time— the longest I’d gone without seeing them had been two months. I’d gotten tired of being raised by a nanny seeing as she practically just left me to my own devices as soon as I was old enough and did her own thing when she was supposed to be looking after me. So I’d looked into emancipation and after talking to my parents about it on one of the rare days they were home before they jetted off again, they’d both agreed without much resistance. I assumed me saying I’d still like to live with them until I could afford my own place had swayed them, as it meant that not much would change—I’d still be at home, I’d just have the ability to make my own decisions without parental permission. When they’d died in a freak car accident a few years ago, I’d inherited everything seeing as I was their only living family and I was the only one listed on the will. After it happened I decided to move to Forks, remembering the few times my parents had bought me here when I was a child. I’d needed a fresh start where no one knew me as the kid who became rich after her parents died, and this had seemed like the perfect place. I’d actually arrived the same time as the Cullens and it had been then that our friendship had been born and it’d only flourished from there.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ He insisted, but his grip didn’t waver, and his dark eyes were almost pleading for me to disagree with him.

‘Ed, I love you and if you need me, I’m going to be there for you so don’t bother arguing with me.’ I gave him a firm look and when he finally smiled I sent him a wink. 

His dark eyes softened with an emotion I couldn’t identify, and he placed a chaste kiss on the back of my hand before asking me to wait in the car while he spoke to his father. I took the time to compose myself and by the time he returned we were off to Alaska to see his extended family. We’d stopped to fill his tank after about an hour, and he’d also grabbed me some food to eat on the rest of the drive. It was the longest I’d ever been in a car, minus bathroom breaks and stopping just so I could stretch out my legs, but after two days and ten hours we made it. 

I felt like I needed my whole body cracked by a chiropractor, but we were here, and honestly it was beautiful! The Denali Coven’s home was similar to the Cullen’s in the sense that it was secluded and practically in the middle of nowhere— you wouldn’t know where to find it unless you knew what you were looking for. It was a mansion surrounded by snow and the early evening light was a mixture of pink and blue, it took my breath away. We never got sunsets like this in Forks, and I’d almost forgotten how beautiful it could be.

‘Wow, it’s beautiful here.’ I whispered, unwilling to disrupt the scenery around me by being too loud.

‘It is.’ Edward mirrored my volume, and I was so enamoured by the effortless beauty around me that I didn’t notice the bronze haired vampire was staring at me. 

After a while, the cold became too much to ignore and Edward led me inside the house, introducing me to the family I’d heard of but never met in person. They were all of course extremely beautiful and the way Tanya’s eyes lingered on the bronze haired vampire next to me made that stabbing feeling return, but I pushed it down. Edward was my friend, I had no right to be jealous of the female attention he received, I knew that but it didn’t stop the stab of pain in my heart. I chatted with Kate and Garrett while the others and Edward went hunting, they were only gone an hour but by the time they returned I was ready to drop. I’d only managed to snag four hours sleep in the past two days as a car wasn’t the comfiest place to lay your head. 

My vampire friend of course knew immediately and politely excused us both to lead me to one of the only rooms in the entire house that actually had a bed. At that point he went to leave me to have my human moments, but at the last second my body acted without his consent and grabbed his wrist. As soon as my hand closed around his wrist he paused without hesitation, his now golden eyes observing me carefully— I knew he was aware of what I was going to say, but he always waited me to voice it in case I changed my mind.

‘Will you stay with me, until I fall asleep?’ I asked, knowing that if he didn’t I probably wouldn't get any sleep, despite my current state of exhaustion. I had an issue falling asleep in new places that lacked the familiarity of my own bed, at the moment Ed was the closest to comfort I had at the moment; he made me feel safe and calm. 

‘Of course I will,’ he answered, his eyes softening to molten, plonking himself onto the twin bed while I got myself ready to sleep. 

I changed in the bathroom, brushed my teeth, washed my face and applied night cream before joining Edward in the bedroom again. He remained on top of the covers, but he’d shifted so that he wasn’t inhibiting any movement for me. I climbed underneath the thick duvet and snuggled into Ed’s side, happy that his natural coolness balanced out the warmth from the covers and the heat Kate had put on throughout the house to keep me from freezing to death. I inhaled his sweet scent and felt myself melt into him when is arm wound around my shoulders and allowed me to snuggle closer to him. I fell into unconsciousness quickly after that, but just before I completely surrendered to the darkness, I thought I felt Edward’s lips kissing my hair, but I was too far gone to fully process it or respond.

//

‘I need to talk to you.’ Edward said as we were a day into our drive back to Forks.

He felt much better now, and was determined not to let a stranger rule his life and the legacy his coven represented. He didn’t want to let Carlisle down and was prepared to simply not breathe in the single period he shared with Bella if that was what it took for his family to continue living in Forks until they were ready to move on again. Honestly, he’d told me that after the first night we’d spent there, I’d barely opened my eyes before he told me the conclusion he’d come to over his blood singer moving to Forks. It took me longer to process his words than it should have, because it was morning but mostly due to the fact that I’d woken up exactly where I’d fallen asleep, which meant he hadn’t left me once throughout the night and that revelation had done funny things to my heart and my ability to focus. Once I had, I’d been relieved, a part of me had been worried he would go as far to relocate to Alaska until Bella left Forks.

‘About what?’ I wondered, putting the bottle of water I’d taken a few gulps of back into the cup holder.

‘I’m not interested in Bella in any romantic way, and I plan to stay as far away from her as possible. While there have been some instances over the centuries of a vampires blood singer also being his true mate, that’s very rare. It wasn’t the case for Emmett, and it’s not the case for me either.’ I could barely hear his soft voice over the sound of my heart thundering in my chest, ‘you’re my true mate, Y/N. I’ve known since I first saw you, which is why we all became so close to you so fast, my family and I usually shy away from making contact with humans but I had to know you. I was certain I’d scare you off when you found out that we were vampires, and when it didn’t I was sure you’d leave when you found out about how much I love you. I tried to cheat and figure out how you’d react to the news by focusing on your thoughts, but you never really lingered on my family and I when you’re around us. So, because I’m a coward I kept my knowledge to myself, content with having you in my life even if it meant I couldn’t truly be with you how I wanted to be. But after hearing your thoughts about losing me when you learned about Bella, and how you felt unworthy of me when you met Tanya, well I just couldn’t bear to keep this to myself when I knew that you were hurting because of it.’

I was silent for a long moment after his speech, because well it was a lot to process, and a part of me couldn’t believe it even though I’d just heard it with my own two ears. But when I saw the look in Ed’s eyes, the soft look that made his orbs look like honey, I was able to recognise the emotion that had always evaded me when I’d tired to put a finger on it— it was love. 

‘I love you too, Edward.’ My voice was so soft that I could barely hear it, but of course he had no problem and a grin took over his face, lighting his expression so brilliantly that my breath caught at the sight of his effortless beauty.

After that somewhat emotional conversation, Edward had taken his hand in mine, and we spent the rest of the drive exchanging occasional anecdotes. But for the most part we remained in a comfortable silence and relaxed in the bubble of love and contentment that settled around us. 

//

Third person POV

When Bella entered the cafeteria that particularly miserable Monday morning, she’d looked over to the Cullen’s table out of habit, only to freeze when she saw that there six people sat around the table, not the usual four she’d grown accustomed to seeing. After she managed to pull herself out of her reverie, she grabbed a bottle of lemonade and hurried to the table she sat at with Mike, Jessica, Angela, Eric and others whose names she hadn’t quite been able to remember. The curly-haired brunette kept her head down for ten minutes, tentatively sipping her lemonade and avoiding conversation as she felt daggers piercing into the side of her head. It was another five minutes before she decided enough was enough; she wasn’t going to let herself feel alienated by a boy who didn’t even know her from Adam. So she turned her head, looking up at the table from underneath her lashes and the sight that greeted her made her fell relaxed and disappointed all at once. None of them were looking in her direction, so she lifted her head a little more so she was able to observe the family with more ease. Emmett and Rosalie were wrapped up in each other, the curly haired blonde vampire grinning at his love as she kissed his cheek and murmured something that made the brawny boy throw his head back and release his signature booming laughter. Jasper and Alice were sat side by side, the blonde’s hand holding Alice’s underneath the table, both content to sit in silence and observe those around them. Edward and a girl whose name she’d learned was Y/N, they were... close in a way Bella couldn’t quite describe. She didn’t know what had changed between now and last week, but there had obviously been a shift in their relationship. The bronze haired boy had his arm wrapped around Y/N’s shoulders, and she was looking up at Edward with a look of pure adoration and love in her eyes, but what was more intense was that he was returning it with equal fervour. Throughout the hour, their eyes never left one another, and they were always touching in some way, whether it was Y/N holding Edward’s free hand and playing with his fingers as they quietly spoke to one another, or whether it was the bronze haired boy brushing Y/N’s hair behind her ear and letting his hand linger to caress the side of her face— they never once shifted so they weren’t touching. It was as if they were in their own little bubble, impenetrable to even the other family members sitting around the table with them, and Bella felt her heart ache at the sight. She longed for someone to look at her the way Edward was looking at Y/N. If she were being completely honest with herself, she had found herself interested in the boy, despite his horrid attitude towards her last week, but obviously that was in vein; he was in love with Y/N, that much was obvious. 

With a sigh, Bella returned her attention to her table mates around her, making an effort to engage in their conversation and forget about the mysterious family sat to the right of her. Jessica had been right— there was no point in wasting any time there.

A/N: So I had this idea pop into my head last night, and to be honest I’m not completely sure how I feel about it?? But I’ve purged it from my mind now and it’s out there. I hope you liked it!!

[stellar-imagines]

SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝unpleasant news.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Todoroki Shouto ]

「Scenario of Todoroki’s S/O being critically injured by villains and she doesn’t come to class one day and suddenly their phones all go off with the breaking news report about what happened.」

TODOROKI SHOUTO

"The convenience store? At this hour?" Todoroki questioned.

Todoroki took a moment to glance over at the clock sitting on his desk. It was quite late at night and not the time for you to be going out to the convenience store. He put down the pencil that he had been using to do his homework and picked up his phone before heading to his futon that was spread out on the ground. He made himself comfortable before putting his phone on speaker. He could hear you moving about in your room, grabbing a few things before leaving. He could even hear you telling your mother that you were going to head out soon.

On the other hand, you were busy putting on your shoes, your mother reminding you to be careful on your way out, even though the store was just a few minutes away. The two of you had the habit of calling each other before going to bed so calling at this hour wasn't that uncommon at all. There was just something romantic with calling before bed and Todoroki seemed to be quite fond of doing something like this every day. He believes that hearing your voice before ending the day was such a wonderful thing.

"My mom used up all of the eggs and soy sauce for dinner and those are kind of a necessity for tomorrow's breakfast so....." you were walking down the empty streets, looking left and right before crossing roads.

"Ah, I see. Anyway, be careful. I'll see you tomorrow at school." Todoroki said.

You said your goodbyes before putting away your phone. There were still a few cars here and there but the road was still devoid of people. The store itself was empty, there were only employees present at the moment, most were seen chatting by register while the rest busied themselves with cleaning. Upon your arrival, the staff greeted you warmly. You quickly bought what your mother had requested, along with some snacks that you will be having for yourself.  When you finished shopping, your mom has asked about your whereabouts while Todoroki texted you to call him once you got home and told you to stay safe. You replied to both texts while you were still inside the store.

On the way home, you heard a bit of rustling by the alleyway ahead of you, followed by a few voices. You thought nothing much about it until three figures emerged from the alleyway which made you stop abruptly. Two were men, both donning a mask the covers half of the lower face. The last one was a female who looked like she was being dragged away against her will, judging from the small cuts on her arms and the bruises. She looked no older than 30 years old who looked like she worked at a company. It didn't take long for you to understand what's going on.

"I thought you said that no one uses this road at night!"

"And I thought I told you that it depends!"

The two suspicious men argued with one another while you took the chance to assess the current situation. It was late at night and then chances of other heores coming is very slim. You put aside your bag and got into a fighting stance. Without warning, you lunged forward to secure the victim while they were still arguing amongst themselves and leaving themselves open. They both looked genuinely surprised at how quick you acted and immediately turned towards you. The villains attempted to attack you but you blocked their attack and stepped back. The woman stirred awake from all the noise and movement.  

"You're awake. That's great. You don't seem to have major injuries, please rest assured and let me handle this." you smiled gently at the woman who was still trying to comprehend what was going on.

"Judging from the way you move.....you must be a hero in training."

"Don't blame us if you get hurt."

With that, you exchanged blows with the two unknown masked figures.

The next day was a nice and clear day. Todoroki finds himself quite disturbed at how nice the day was, he woke up feeling extremely exhausted and noticed that he still had his phone in hand. He quickly got up to ready himself for school, putting his phone aside and kicking off the blankets. By the time he stepped out of the house, he had his eyes on his phone. In the end, you didn't give him a call once you got back home. Todoroki assumed that you probably didn't want to disturb him and decide to leave him alone to sleep. Then again, he could see you at school anyways.

"Good morning, Todoroki-kun!"

He heard Midoriya's voice while he was changing his shoes by the lockers. Following the green-haired male were Uraraka and Iida who were waving at Todoroki as well.

"Oh, everyone.....Good morning." 

"Uwah, what's with that tired look on your face?" Uraraka questioned.

"I was just thinking about something." the bicolored haired male replied.

The four students headed to Class 1-A, only to see that their classmates chatting with one another. Todoroki headed to his seat at the back, paying no heed to whatever was going on within the classroom. His phone vibrated within his pocket, a bit too violently that it annoyed him a bit. It wasn't until he sat down that he pulled out his phone He finds a few messages from his older siblings, others were notification from other apps that told him about the most recent news. In the group chat he was in, which had all Fuyumi and Natsuo in it, had numerous notifications. It seemed like the two were calling for him. He scrolled up and found a link to a certain page. There he saw a video of a live broadcast from just a minute ago.

"This just in! The police and pro heroes had managed to capture two villains who have been wreaking havoc for the past month." the loud volume was enough to attract a few people's attention. A few students gathered around Todoroki to see what was going on. On display was a video of civilians surrounding the site while the police tried to keep them in check.

"The two villains were famous slave traders, attacking at random patterns which threw the police force and pro heroes off guard with their timing. Here we are, interviewing the victim from last night." the camera then switched over towards a woman who was seated at the back of the hospital, fresh bandages littering her arms and some on her face.

"I remember going home and suddenly, I was pulled into the alleyway. After that, everything was blurry but I was saved by a hero. She was really kind and prioritized my safety. Even though she was still a student, I could tell that she's going to be a great hero someday. She was critically injured when I finally regained consciousness but at that moment the villains were already defeated, yet she still tended to my injuries and even called an ambulance for me. Although it might not be enough, I would like to pay for her hospital bills." the woman had a solemn yet sad look on her as if she could feel someone else's pain.

"The student turned out to be a first-year student from the hero course of UA. She goes by the name [Last Name] [First Name]....."

After that, everything became silent for Todoroki. The news was too heavy for him to take in right now. He managed to put all the pieces together. The reason as to why you didn't bother to even send him a message. His classmates began talking amongst themselves while keeping their eyes onto Todoroki's phone screen. They were so focused on the news that they failed to notice that their homeroom teacher had entered the classroom, ready to start school.

"What are you all doing? Put your phones away, it's time for homeroom." Aizawa put down his attendance book onto the table.

"Sensei! Did you know about this?" Kaminari showed the teacher his phone which had an article that contained information about your heroic deeds and hospitalization. Aizawa looked at the phone for a few moments before looking at everyone in the class to see their expressions. As expected, everyone was worried. You were one of the lively students in the class that can change the mood so this was expected.

"I know that you're all worried but there's nothing you can do about it. Let the pros handle it. You all can go visit her after school so just be quiet and pay attention because I'm not gonna repeat this again." Aizawa quickly changed the direction of the conversation and finished off homeroom. Throughout the entire day, everyone was quite worried about you.

During lunch break, Todoroki had the chance to use his phone and the first thing he did was call you. However, it was your mother who had picked up instead. Judging from how relaxed your mother sounded, Todoroki could deduce that you're not in a serious condition. Your mother had told him what he needed to know, which includes your well being and a detailed explanation of what exactly happened last night. He hung up once he heard his classmates calling him to go back to class. After he sat down on his seat and pulled out his textbook, he made a mental note to go to the bakery to buy your favorite stuff before visiting you.

As soon as classes ended, Todoroki was already packing his things as fast as possible. Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka had stopped him before he had left, telling the bicolored haired male that they wanted to visit you as well. They stopped by the bakery by the train station before taking a 5-minute walk to the hospital. By the time they arrive, the sky’s color had changed. The receptionist was kind enough to guide the four students to your room despite the busy schedule she probably has. The moment they arrived in front of the room you were resting in, a nurse exited the room with a few papers in hand.

”Oh, you all must be [Last Name]-san’s visitors. Thank you for coming so far to visit but it's not the right time. She’s currently resting after an operation. Sorry but perhaps, maybe you can come to visit tomorrow.” the nursed smiled apologetically at the four. Iida shook his head, telling the nurse that there’s no need to apologize for something she couldn’t control.

Though they were disappointed, they knew that it was best to not disturb your slumber and let you get as much rest as you possibly could. Todoroki voiced out that he wanted to stay and said something about wanted to see you. Uraraka handed him the flowers she, Midoriya, and Iida had bought together, telling him to say hello for her in case you wake up. The three said their goodbyes before heading towards the elevator. The nurse guided the bicolored haired male into the room and drew the curtains together. Once he was within your room, he took a moment to study the interior.

The hospital wasn’t unfamiliar to him at all, since he often visited his mother during the weekends. But, he decided to explore the room. There was a wall-mounted TV right in front of your bed, it looked like the latest model. A window giving him a view of the world below. In the corner were two chairs with a short, rectangular coffee table. Todoroki set down the bag that held your favorite desserts and placed the flowers in the vase. He dragged the chair next to your bed and sat down, eyes fixated on your sleeping form. He felt useless. He reached for your hand, feeling how cold it was beneath his fingertips.

"She has internal bleeding and suffered temporary blood loss. When she came in, she was bleeding all over but thankfully, we had a donor. The doctors say that they're unsure when she will wake up but for now, they did all they can." the nurse assured Todoroki after seeing the frown etched onto his face. The nurse excused herself and left the room.

All he could think was how he could've prevented this if he offered to accompany you last night. Seeing you on the hospital bed reminded him of how dangerous being a hero actually is and how fragile a person's life was. He squeezed your hand gently, silently hoping that you would wake up and return the gesture. What if you never wake up? What would happen if you were to disappear completely from his life? From your family and friends? He didn't know when he started relying on your comfort and reassuring words.

You were like a ray of sunshine, devoid of impurities, and darkness. When he was at his lowest and angry at himself for getting riled up at the thought of his father, you were there for him. You didn't have to say anything to make him feel at ease. You would do it unconsciously, coming into his room and surprising him with some baked goods or sneaking up on him to give him a hug. Though they were only little things, it was enough to cheer him up. Your presence itself was a blessing in disguise.

He hoped that he treated you well enough.

But he knows that you're strong and that you will pull through. Todoroki knows what he should do now. He should take care of himself and be the one to take care of you once you wake up. It may not be enough to repay you for all the times you stayed with him but it was the least he could do.

"I'll come back tomorrow."

Hopefully by then, you'll be awake.

Total: 2323 words Published: 27.08.2020

Thank you to those who participated in the poll!

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ We did our best with this scenario and it turn out as angsty as we thought. And we didn’t really make that sad hospital scene. But we hope you enjoyed it nonetheless.― author Lou

Thank you for requesting! There’s a lot of things we could’ve improved but we didn’t really know what we should do. Hope you liked it, anon! ― author Natsuki

Requests are open! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.