#i do want him so bad though. even if the art style is a little.....mmm well..........

[mqfx]

baekrang tramp stamp on his hip..... exhibiting slut behaviors I see

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said. 

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

 After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

 He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move. 

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.

[neo-shitty]

hi i heard it was bias loving hours and even though you know that i bias yoshinori and that i scream about him everyday and whatnot, it's still bias loving hours and so im here to rant about him again </3

gosh where do i even start oml my favourite thing about yoshi is his heart ;-; or soul ;-; he is just so kind and softhearted and so so just so kind have i mentioned how kind he is?? ;-; he has such a safe and comforting aura around him in everything he does ;-; the way he talks, the way he smiles, the way he interacts with the people around him, the way he— MY POINT IS!! he just radiates safety ;-; to me at least he does like?? i have never seen someone who's like him?? he seems like such a wonderful and nice person and ;-;-;-;-;-; he is just so kind oml his kindness is like,, one of my absolute favourite things about him ;-; he is just very precious to me :')

the first time i saw him, i ADORED him ;-; it was his verse in i love you and the talent??? the way he jumped right in after ruto?? legend? things istg i was so mindblown and felt so drawn to him oml then i started to watch t-map and watched treasure box ;-; seeing his character and personality just made me fall so damn in love with his existence?? like, normally i like idk grow tiny crushes on my biases but yoshi just feels entirely different ;-; i just want to see him happy, healthy, loved, and thriving ;-; like i just want him to live a nice life ;-; and like, feel as happy and content as he makes me feel ;-; fr i discovered treasure and yoshi when i was struggling with my mental health and??? i cannot believe he kept me afloat like that oml i just adore him as a person so much ;-;

ok anyways moving onto my favourite looks!!

his silver hair was ICONIC but i also adore him in that short brown mullet but also the legendary strawberry look??? also that mama suit oml also i think about black foldneck/turtleneck yoshi a lot more than i should </3 i just like him in all sorts of styles!! my favourites are however when he is more casual hehe i just can't pick ;-;

MY FAVOURITE VERSE IS A TIE BETWEEN ILY AND MMM 😭😭 i know all of his raps by heart body mind and soul and all of them are xjcjjf BUT.! those two ;-;

i really wish that he'll lead a life where he can be so so proud of himself and his accomplishments and feel satisfied with his work :(( also i hope he knows just how appreciative lots and lots of people are of him and that he is adored for not just his looks or art, but also for him as a person ;-; one day he can do some solo work and create an album entirely of his own making just like bobby does/did!! i want to hear him and see him perform to his heart's content honestly ;-; AND HOLD AN ART EXHIBITION!! AND BE A RENOWN FASHIONISTA!! AND SEE HIS FAMILY A LOT!!

i'd be way too shy and nervous to meet him in person but i also want to desperately tell him that i really really really love him :( maybe one day i'll get to go to one of their concerts or fanmeets or like, get chosen for a fancall and then i can like, pour my heart out for him ;-; until then, i gotta practice my korean smh :')

oml this got a bit long bye i will take my leave i think you got my point🚶🚶

sorry i answered a little late! i forgot i had a worksheet to submit and it was due today e.e anyway AAAA i didn't expect you to send an ask omg BUT YES <33

i do agree! his overall aura or vibe is smth i would associate to marshmallows and just overall a warm comfortable day. and those are just my favorites :(( not to devastate you even more but yoshi gives off first life vibes ;n; the term safety is making me EMO JDLKJLFAJ i'm so glad that you found a safe space in him somehow (especially during such a rough time!!) i can't believe i was there to witness the start of this road to yoshinori ult-ing HAHA you just know you're down bad when you want them to be happy and healthy and loved and thriving. damn vienna !! yoshi despite being the softest looking mallow surely can slay a rather bad boy-ish vibe x.x HIS DUALITY. i have this deal with ppl wearing contacts but he. somehow. slays. it. everytime !! (it's ok with not being able to pick, just shows how whipped you are <33)

HELP I HAD TO LISTEN TO MMM BC I COULDNT RMB HIS VERSE T_T (just me spacing out, i just realized it's the whole 2nd verse BYE) 'i know all of his raps by heart body mind and soul' as i said earlier, whipped. i do agree that he raps well! i feel that it's different from the yg rapping i'm used to (which hyunsuk has) but it's a GREAT addition to their mix. for me its his jikjin rap has me on chokehold e.e i think i mainly listen to it for that, it makes me feel cool B)

awwww :(( this is getting so wholesome for me :(( i'm sure he's vaguely aware of how ppl appreciate him but i feel like he would 10/10 be shy abt the idea of being showered with appreciation (WHICH HE DESERVES 100%) i think treasure being under yg would be given that creative freedom (?) especially when they self-produce. so hopefully, some time in the future, we'll be able to see him have solos!! (and i hope we're still moots by then! wouldn't want to miss out on you screaming abt it in the dash T_T) I KEEP FORGETTING THAT HE'S ALSO AN ARTIST OMG this talented ass man. all of these are within his reach tbh. i'm hoping that the freaking company wouldn't be holding him back!

IFY with feeling shy and nervous OML HJSHDK it's ok!! prepare a script if it ever comes to. i hope you'll get to go to their concerts and/or fanmeets someday! it's still pretty early in their career so possibilities are quite endless. wishing you luck with practicing korean so that you could pour your heart out then!

this whole ask was just so wholesome :(( <33 atp if i ever (somehow) come across yoshi like somewhere the first thing i'm saying is a summary of this. i'm getting this shit across no matter what. >:( <3

bias loving hours!

[blackvelvetwriteson]

𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒: 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

                                                        (  ~ Kirishima Eijirou x Female                                                                          Reader Insert ~ )

GENRE: Smut and Fluffy Fluff!                                                                  

FANDOM: Boku No Hero Academia (My Hero Academia)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT! That’s it. It’s just a lot of love making today with some pretty aftercare.

SUMMARY: It’d been awhile since you and Eijiro had gotten together and he’d started his hero work while you decided to stay in school and focus more on studies. He got to train under his idol and, of course, you were proud of him. He worked damn hard to get where he’s at now. He continued training harder and harder everyday, but that also meant that he was even more drained than usual. You'd always talk on the phone after school and he'd entertain you with his stories of what he did on the job and you'd help him be caught up schoolwise. It was a give-give situation. It'd been at least two months at this point and you were a little agitated; both sexually and not. You missed feeling his strong arms around you, his soft lips sending you to bed every night and waking you up every morning. You missed seeing how his big, muscular, veiny hand enveloped yours, his gentle smile making your days brighter and eventually, at this point you'd had enough of not being together.

WORD COUNT: 2723

(Headers are mine, but the art inside of them are not! Please don’t steal or repost without credit!)

      Two months had passed up to this point and you still hadn't heard from your boyfriend. You were scrolling through your Instagram just staring at all of the pictures that you shared, your eyes tearing up a little as your mind wandered absolutely craving his touch. Was he in the hospital? Was he hurt? What was going on with him?

     Your nightmares were a bit more prominent now having spent a significant bit of time away from your lover, though they subsided, to some degree, when you got with Eijiro. Suddenly all of this time apart was getting to you and you ran out of medicine to help with it, your anxiety and depression levels absolutely through the roof.    It got so bad that even your friends had noticed; you weren't as chipper in class, you never ate as much, your gaze was either painted out the window or at the ground at any given time, and you absolutely refused to go anywhere. Mina and Ochako wanted to hang out after class to study and hang out before the big exam and instead you locked yourself in your room and studied lazily yourself. Needless to say, you got a D- and that was the worst you'd EVER done in a class. Not that you didn't know the material, just that you didn't have the energy or focus to sit through the test. Aizawa had noticed and pulled you aside and you explained lazily your mental health situation and he said that once your mental health gets better that he'll let you retake the quiz. Then he gave you a Nature Valley bar because you didn't look like you'd been eating.

You paced your room and you sighed softly thinking of what it'd take to get his attention. Knowing him, this week he was probably on office duty instead of patrolling the streets. You decided, with your dirty mind, to put on some lingerie to get his attention and hopefully it'd warrant a text back.

You slip on some black lacy lingerie, complete with a corset-style top that was laced up in the back and a built in bra, though it was just a bit too small for you even though everything else fit just fine, you just had some big boobs. You decided to deal with it.

It also had a black thong instead of panties and a small harness-looking belt that attached to lace garter straps secured around your thighs.

You walk in front of a mirror you had in your room and you sighed softly, aware that he loved your natural face, almost void of blemishes. You had a few textured marks on your forehead but otherwise you were good. Your lips lightly glazed over with some chapstick you'd put on beforehand, your cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink.

You bring your slender fingers up to your lips and you run your middle finger over your bottom lip, whimpering softly. You picked your phone up and took a couple of pictures, one with that vibrant smile he loved so much, your bright white teeth catching the light, your eyes squinting curtly as your bangs framed your face.

You took a more seductive picture, your fingers looped just barely under the thong strap, pulling up and showing off the outline of your, now obviously swollen pussy. You whimper at the friction and you bit your lip, snapping a few not as innocent photos.

You then took a naughty little video clip of your hand ducking in between your legs, your fingers pressing at your clit as you moan out softly, completely unaware of just how wet and aroused you truly were until you shifted your weight some and heard yourself stirring up a little.

You send a nice little text to him first.    

   "Hey baby. Are you busy?"

Almost instantly, you got a response back.

  "Yeah, I'm busy... I'm sorry, Pebble, I'll try and text more often. I've just been so backed up at this internship. I'm on office duty today so I might have some time to call later if you want."

Just as you expected; office time. You smirked a bit, instantly sending the cute picture and then the more provocative ones. You laid down on the bed awaiting his response.

"You know that smile of yours gets me every single time," he responded.

Your hand travelled down your body, wishing it was Kirishima's, his veins exposed on his arms as his fingers conformed to your curves, your muscles, every crevice and dip in your body. You moaned out softly, "Eijiro," in a soft, breathy tone. Your fingers were teasing your clit over the thin fabric of the thong and you arched your back a little. You'd accidentally sent him the video of you touching yourself in the bathroom and you dropped your phone, instantly, one of your fingers delving inside of you.

You arched your back more, gripping the sheets and sliding your finger into your tight pussy, slowly sliding another finger in. Your core ached for release you'd been holding off on, but tonight you just couldn't fight it anymore.

Your phone buzzed next to you, the name on your phone the only one you wanted to see. You tried to control your breathing and you bit your lip.  

   "H-Hullo," you hummed out, risking it and continuing to curl your fingers inside of yourself. You were a bit caught as you heard rhythmic thumping and your breathless boyfriend on the other side.

"B-Baby," he said in a drawn out-intoxicating sounded voice, moaning and whimpering into the phone quietly, his breathing deep and loud.

"Aww. Is someone a bit needy," you try to keep yourself collected as you heard him helplessly jerking himself off underneath his office desk.

"I-I've missed you so much... T-This has taken a toll o-on m-me too," he whimpered helplessly into the phone, his hips bucking up up into his hand, pumping his hand up and down his veiny shaft. His perfect, plush pink tip was oozing precum and he bit his lip, his jagged breathing coming through the phone turning you on even more.

"Mmm fuck, Eijiro," you whimpered out quietly as you hear his rhythmic thrusts and thumps speeding up and you can tell by how he's choking back his orgasm that he's close. You thrust your fingers inside of you, shakily breathing and moaning as your thighs trembled.

"I can tell you're close, Princess," he moaned out quietly. "I'm close too... C-Cmon. I know you can do it. I know you can make me cum," he whimpered out quietly.

His voice was so sexy to you. especially how he tried to dominate you though you guys weren't touching each other and when he was feeling a little submissive, his hoarse voice strained as he tried to stay discreet. You heard his moans, his inebriates moans filling your ear as sweet music. He moaned your name and his strained, tipsy tone shooting shivers right up your spine as he let out a quiet, intense moan.

You bit your lip and turned your camera on quickly flipping it to your slick dripping out of your pussy. You were greeted by Eijiro's sweet whimpers and whines as he watched you slide your fingers in and out in a quick, sticky rhythm.

"P-Please, please, please, please," he moaned as he showed his cock that you were so hungry for, the blush pink tip coated in precum and the shaft of his cock covered in those beautiful puckered veins that you loved so much.   "Make me cum," he whimpered out. "Make me fucking c-cum princess, please! I n-need it! I need you so goddamn bad!"

You couldn't hold it even if you wanted to, arching your back, dropping your phone, gripping your sheets and soaking your hand in your sweet, sticky cum.     "Eijiro!" You yelled out as you shuddered, overstimulating yourself, gasping for air and convulsing under your own touch. You were left breathless as you pushed yourself for him just wishing that he were there so you could feel him.     "D-Daddy," you kept muttering in between gasps and moans, your whimpers which were said dominant before melting into a pathetic puddle of small yips, bucking hips, and "please"-es.

He absolutely reveled in your orgasm, groaning and whimpering quietly, clearly getting close himself. He continued to whimper and whine, slapping a hand over his mouth so that he wouldn't alert his temporary employer. His face was painted all shades of red, a bit of sweat sheening his body, illuminating his exposed skin in all of the right ways. He continued his rhythmic pumping, eventually getting faster and faster, jerking around in his seat. It was then you realized how needy he actually was, not just a ruse to get you to get him to smooth one out while he was on the job and you, alone.   

    He hadn't even pulled his pants down to his knees and they just rested on his thighs. His face was contorted in need, his breathing hitching and shaky which, to be frank, never happened unless a situation arose in which you'd both been parted from each other. He never trembled unless you overstimulated him but he was a convulsing mess and he haven't even came yet.

"C-Cum," you managed to choke out, hoping to help him chase his release.  "P-Please cum for me daddy!~ I de-deserve it!~" Your pleasure replaced by sensitivity, your insides dripping and convulsing like crazy around your fingers as you listened to him moaning and groaning on the other side of the phone.

You'd barely even made it through your command and he'd pumped himself faster, faster, faster, deep, long strokes before he grabbed some tissues from off of the desk and he slapped his hand over his mouth, at first no noise was coming out. You stopped your... Festivities and just stared at the phone with glistening eyes as he hiked his legs up some, his hot, sticky seed shooting into the tissues that he placed over his tip, his lips parted barely, soft huffs of breath leaving him occasionally as he became a trembling mess in his seat while there was shuffling at the door. He no longer cared, just in absolute bliss as he got to please himself- finally- at the hands of his baby girl. He let out soft "ooh"s and "ah"s as he came down from his high, picking up the phone to see your glistening eyes and soft pink lips.

   "T-That was a-all..." You trailed off, the bass in your voice quieting as you stared at the beautiful man who you called your own

  "Yes, baby girl," he responded in his husky tone as he stared into your eyes, his french vermillion colored eyes glistening as he brushed his bangs out of his face. You noticed that his hair wasn't spiked, but rather smoothed down on his head, his bangs held back by a butterfly clip. He slid it back in his pants and he threw the sticky tissue away at the trashcan that lied under his desk.    

 "All for you." He shuffled some of his papers on his desk realizing that he only had a small amount of paperwork to file, having done the majority of it on 3 cans of Monster and an endless amount of coffee. He couldn't find it in himself to sleep knowing that you weren't able to without him but he also couldn't call you prior.

  "When can I see you again?" You asked in an innocent, breathy tone.

He picked up his schedule and then checked the time, his beautiful cherry red eyes falling back over how sad you looked, the moment of bliss covering up just how needy and depressed you really were. 

   "God I really wish I could... You don't even know," he whispered quietly into the phone as he wiped some sweat off of his forehead and he pinched the bridge of his nose. You could tell he was stressed but you couldn't help your expression dropping.    

    "I think I have an off-day here soon... Within the month, I'm sure of it." He said softly as he looked at your downed expression.

   "O-Oh," you said, your eyes glistening with tears that dared to fall.       "Y-Yeah no, that's fine," you force a smile into your phone and you shake your head.

     "You know you're my beautiful baby right?" He asked softly staring into your eyes, getting a mental picture of your features.        "You know you're so brave and strong, right? You know that I miss you and I don't want anybody else but you, don't you," he cooed out quietly to you.

You nodded allowing his words to envelop you.      "I know, Kiri," you whisper quietly as you curl up in a blanket.

"Have you eaten...?" His eyes looked a little worried as he already knew the answer and he sat up in his seat finally getting back to his work, his phone propped up against a book that was on his desk. He was surprisingly organized, pulling his bangs back and reclipping his hair; he looked so professional and you loved it, you just wished that you could be with him while he was being professional.

"No," you replied quietly, laying down with your back to the phone. His eyes peered at you and he sighed softly.

    "How long has it been?" He continued to try and coax answers out of you but you were crashing and dissociating.     "Look at me, baby girl," he whispered quietly, placing his pencil down and picking his phone up again.

You groan softly, the tears finally falling as you cover your eyes with your forearm.    "No," you spat quietly.        "You're not gonna like what you see then l-leave me o-or something a-and-"

 "Baby," he said in his soft stern voice. You immediately shut up and turned to look at him through your phone.    "Now that I have your attention. What was it that you told me awhile ago? 'Everybody cries. Even manly men,'" you loved it when he quoted you.    "You getting emotional isn't gonna make me love you any less," he said quietly as he gave you a nurturing smile. You cuddled a pillow and rested your head on it much like you'd do to Kiri, resting your head on his chest. You sniff quietly and just watch him.

  "Soon, my love," he whispered quietly as he hummed to you, lulling you to sleep that'd been eluding you for at least a month and a half. He smiled as he watched you peacefully, humming quietly as he continued to run his pencil over some paper, making work in his paperwork. He looked over your sleepy features, your lips that were slightly parted as you let out soft puffs of air, your rosy cheeks, your illuminating skin, your bangs that framed your face so perfectly, and finally your eyes that never rested even in sleep; he could tell you were having a nightmare. He wished so badly that he were there to kiss your forehead and tell you that everything would be okay. He craved your touch just as much as you craved him.

  "In one of my late days, I'll be there right beside you, cuddling you and letting you know it’ll all be okay," he whispered softly as he continued to muse and do his work.

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Tokyo Love Story (Part 3) Ghosts

.... .... The clouds are gathering...

@rurifangirl

Like the summer days and winter nights in the arctic, it was getting hard for you to keep track of time. So when Caesar taps on the closet door to wake you up, you almost ask what day it is wondering if you sleep for 3 days straight, like before.

You still feel a little achy in your bones but otherwise your pain is gone. There is only the lingering fatigue and gnawing hunger. Caesar was prepared with a hearty breakfast of oatmeal fruit and eggs.

“Eat up and get dressed. We have a lot to talk about.” He was not dressed in his flamboyant work clothes so it must not be evening just yet. He had on a simple grey sweatshirt and jeans. Still, you pause and look because it was so rare to see the Gattuso heir dressed so casually. He tosses you some clothes and you catch them.

They were nothing like the sexy cheongsams that you were used to wearing, just a simple woven sweater and puffy slacks. Comfortable, like his clothing was. In fact, the sleeves were a bit too long. You open the door of the closet and yawn, rubbing your sleeve against your eye. The men had bathed already. Caesar was sitting in a chair slightly too short for him. Chu Zihang was leaning on the wall next to him, in a button down shirt and dark pants, arms crossed, his long sword slung behind his back. He looked at you pointedly, but didn’t say anything.

“Where’s Mingfei?” You ask, looking left and right for him.

“Lu Mingfei is on a special assignment. Turns out he escaped from Genji Heavy Industries by being mistaken for evacuees. And he just happened to have the young Uesugi Clan chief with him.” Caesar sat back in the chair making it creak. Despite the sweatshirt, there was no hiding the musculature there.

“Oh… Is that bad?”

“It’s good and bad.” Caesar said. “There’s a lot I can say about her. To start, it looks like she’s been extremely isolated her entire life. According to Lu Mingfei, her living quarters in Genji was a replica of an old Japanese house. It doesn’t seem like she was ever let outside of it. While we were watching her, she was just sitting and listening to birds. So it's reasonable to believe that the area was nearly soundproof.”

You’re still hungry so you make your way over to a minifridge they had delivered and grab a small tub of yogurt.  “That’s awful.”

Caesar shrugged. “It’s all she knows. The theory is her mind is so unstable she couldn’t handle a drastic change in environment without losing control. But… in this case. Mingfei said that she insisted he stay in the room with her for comfort. Because she seems to have an odd trust in him, his presence puts her mind at ease. Taking him away would be dangerous, so we thought it best he stay with her for now.”

“Mmm… I guess that’s okay if she’s okay with it. After all, it’s how I’ve been living all this time.” You say.

Caesar eyes you silently for a moment.

You continue. “I just … wonder if Lu Mingfei will be okay with it. He’s kind of a perv.” 

“You picked up on that too huh?” Caesar grinned bitterly.

“Right. He was always anxious about my so-called purity, he must have been having impure thoughts.” You take a bite of yogurt thinking to yourself. Mingfei is the brother of Z after all.

“He might have those thoughts but he’s terrified of her.” Chu Zihang muttered. “And with good reason. You never said anything about it so I assume you didn’t know how we all escaped the Trieste disaster. You said you were rescued by dolphins, but if it weren't for Uesugi you wouldn’t have survived long enough for rescue.”

You pause, spoon hanging from your mouth. “I thought you blew up the monsters with Royal Fire?”

“I tried, but Royal Fire is limited in water.” He fixed you with his cold gaze. “It was really Erii Uesugi who destroyed the remaining enemies by producing a massive iceberg out of thin air and ramming it into the beasts. They were all eliminated  in one blow. I thought I’d never see anyone with a Yanling that powerful… but…” Chu Zihang trailed off.

“So she saved us?” You ask.

“We don’t think it was intentional to save us. We just happened to be saved.” Caesar replied.

“That Yanling  is called 'Judgment' and is so powerful that it makes her look like a god standing in the clouds judging humans, hence the name. But the actual effect is to eliminate all life in its field. It’s a rare 'command' type of spirit of speech." Chu Zihang continued. He then glanced at Caesar.

You start to get a strangely uneasy feeling. Like there was something they wanted to say but were nervous about saying it. Your eyes shift from Chu Zihang to Caesar. “So… what’s the plan? Are we holding her hostage or...”

Caesar chuckled in disbelief at the notion. “We can’t hold someone like that hostage. Chisei Gen we can capture, but her? Her power surpasses his.” He sighs.

Chu Zihang lets out a breath. “Chisei is supposed to be the strongest a White King Hybrid can get. He surpasses the blood-threshold and still remains sane. The only explanation for her being stronger than him is that the Uesugi family head is an anomaly. She is the strongest Ghost. She surpasses Chisei but her bloodline is not stable." Chu Zihang said slowly.

“So she’s like me.” You raise your eyes to him.

Chu Zihang’s eyes shift from yours “You were not as unstable as she is. That said, your use of Blood Rage has not helped matters. Without specialized equipment, I can’t tell how unstable you are.”

Your heart beats a little faster and your eyes widen. “Are you scared of me?”

“MC… relax!” Caesar says sharply. “Both Chu Zihang and I have already talked it through. It was fine keeping you here, so it should be fine to keep Erii in the short term. Especially keeping Erii out of the hands of Hydra while we wait to get in contact with the Academy.”

“Then… … if she does endanger Mingfei, I will fight her?” You ask quietly.

“You’re the only one who could stand a chance.” Chu Zihang said.

“But let’s not jump to such dark conclusions yet.” Caesar gives Chu Zihang a steady warning look and you wonder if Chu Zihang told Caesar that he was authorized to kill you if needed. Caesar said they had talked it over, but you’re getting the feeling that the talk was more of an argument. Chu Zihang was going along with it, but they were not of the same mind.

“It’s hard not to think that though.” You say. I’ve been questioning for a long time why I was awakened and sent here  with you after being asleep for 20 years. I’ve always been raised as a weapon, but… I’ve never been needed in my full capacity.” You turn your dark eyes up to him. “What better reason to wake me up, than to serve as someone who could potentially defeat Erii Uesugi?”

“No…” Caesar’s voice was firm. “That won’t happen.”

You grip the yogurt cup tightly in your hands. “I think you should plan for it. If she’s really as strong and unstable as you say, to go against her I will need to do more than create an 8.0 earthquake. It will be like Godzilla vs. Godzilla. No matter who wins, all of Tokyo gets destroyed!”

 "How can you compare yourself to Godzilla?” Caesar turned to you, putting on a winning smile. “I’ve never seen you that way, MC. When I look at you, all I see is a beautiful girl! Same with the Uesugi Clan Chief. I wouldn’t pit two beautiful girls against each other.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it calmly.  

Chu Zihang looked stone-faced.

You let go of your tight grip on the yogurt cup but it was completely crushed. You toss it away. Of course he wouldn’t pit you against each other. But the world was cruel and evil and might not give him a choice.

“By the way, there was something you wanted to tell me in the trunk of the car… what was it?” Caesar asked, exhaling smoke.

“Oh… right.” You take a breath. “When I was using my abilities to cause the quake, I was under Genji Heavy Industries, at the lowest point. And when I put my mind into the ground, something big was there. It was distant… but the fact I would sense it over that distance meant… it’s very big.”

Caesar’s lips closed over the cigarette. “Dragon?”

“From what I heard?” You say seriously. “More than one.”

------

The Kabuki theater you are invited to is over 100 years old and is considered the throne of Kabuki theaters. It has been burned down and rebuilt several times, and today, the building has a distinct Momoyama-era style, with a purple cloth hanging in front of the door.

 Numerous national treasures of Kabuki actors have appeared here, and it is considered a great honor for newcomers to debut in this theater. This night a newcomer was on stage and, although the attendance was not expected to be high for newcomers, the tickets for tonight’s show were sold out early and a banner saying "Thank you" was hung in front of the ticket window. Those who came to buy tickets were young women, dressed in fashionable and hot clothes, not at all like the traditional older audience of Kabuki. This bright young throng crowded in front of the ticket window. The theater manager, who hadn't seen such an unprecedented turnout in more than a decade, was thrilled to the point that he thanked God that this ancient art had not been cut short and had managed to attract such a large young audience. The staff who knew what was going on said with a bitter smile that the manager misunderstood. They did not come for the traditional art, they just wanted to see the man who was amazing.

The newcomer on stage was named Ruri Kazama, and the play was "A New Telling of an Ancient Tale.”

The ticket you received was for a special royal box seat, separate from the seats of Chu Zihang and Caesar. Lu Mingfei couldn’t attend, obviously, so they graciously allowed Whale to come take his spot. 

For you, this great and illustrious occasion was part of the MC Romance contest and you had star-heart tickets to give away to a suitor who pleased you best. But because tickets were sold out for the show, the only thing they could do was send you gifts and give you a complete makeover. When you entered the Takamagahara spa and beauty salon, the entire boutique staff of the Takamagahara was waiting for you, lined up in two neat rows on the left and right sides of the door. They all bowed simultaneously with a loud “Irasshaimase!” 

The day outside was warm and bright and sunny. Perfect for a day out on the town, but the worst weather imaginable if you wanted to avoid the searching eyes of Kaguya. You would get a complete makeover that would hide your identity.

It started with full body skin treatments, shaving and hair removal, even massage. After that, you were whisked away in a fluffy robe for a manicure and pedicure where your nails were buffed and shined. Then your hair and scalp were treated to make it soft and aromatic. At this time, when you were sitting in the chair, your hair being pulled through a hot press, a Japanese woman in a pinstripe suit with long legs and sharp eyes walked into the room. You’d never seen her before but she seemed familiar with you.

She looked you up and down with a critical glare as all the workers stopped and let her inspect. “Well, things are coming along pretty well for our diamond in the rough. But my boss needs you to look like a queen and so long as you have that wide-eyed stare, you won’t fit the part.”

“Your boss?”

The long legged woman handed you an oblong carved sandalwood box that was tied with a red ribbon.

You pull the ribbon and remove the top. In the box was the deadpool's claw, buffed to a mirror like sheen. The raw knuckle bone was now inserted into a wooden hilt painted in vermillion and engraved with gold. It looked like a weapon one might find in a hidden tomb surrounded by other precious artifacts. A legendary weapon. The note said, “From Z.”

When you look at this woman again, she puts her finger to her lips. “There’s something I need you to understand. As the queen, the world only exists by your express permission. So from now on, I need you to simply ignore everyone around you. If you act like an ignorant girl, people will question you. Only pay attention or acknowledge anyone if it’s absolutely necessary.”

Knowing that this woman was acquainted with Z raised goosebumps on your skin. So rather than say yes ma’am, you turn away and stare into the mirror.

Your immediate obedience seemed to please the woman who said, “Good girl.” Before leaving.

You sit still while they paint your face with pale powder. Then they pile your hair up on your head. One of the women shows you an intricate golden comb the shape of a flying phoenix. A card came with it. “From Diamond,” it said. You nod mutely and they use it to secure your hair in front. The comb was from Diamond. Another shows you a bottle of floral scented perfume “from Armani”. You nod again.

At the end of the night, two men carried a large mirror to you and you caught a glimpse of yourself. The person reflected doesn’t look like you. You don’t see an orphan from Siberia but a delicate young woman. She smiled from the mirror. Her eyes were bright and sparkling in shy surprise and delight. Her eyebrows were dark and slender. Her ebony hair bloomed with flowers, gold and jade.  Her clothes are fine linen and silk brocade, a Chinese Hanfu reminiscent of the Tang Dynasty that reached the floor and pooled underneath her in red and white. Her shoulders are draped with translucent gold colored silk shawls. 

She didn’t look like you. But she was you.

Even though Caesar said you were beautiful over and over, this was the first time you ever felt that way about yourself. You find yourself swaying in the mirror, observing the way the silk shawls sparkled on your arm, a little giggle makes its way out. You feel a strange sense of thrilling excitement. Joy even.

You’d always thought of Renata as much prettier than you. Renata’s pale hair and her blue eyes were like the sun and the sea. But your dark eyes and your dark hair reminded you only of ravens. You cared for yourself like a potted plant, so you never thought of yourself as something to be admired, something dainty. You were a weapon. That was all you were good for. But now you admire the tendons of your neck, the curve of your collar bones, the taper of your wrists.

The sun sank in crimson and gold over the city of Tokyo. The light of the sky went out and the city lit up like a sea of stars. A sleek black limousine rolled up in front of the Takamagahara as it opened for the night, but you would not be there for the performers. Instead, the performers were lined up to see you out. The suitors in white suits while the rest of them wore their finest blacks.

They tilted in a stiff bow when you appeared. Per the instructions you received through the Japanese woman, you keep your eyes forward. In doing so, you feel a smile come to your face as you walk between them. Your heart swells and you straighten your back and lift your chin. 

You step out into the humid night. Heads turn, but you’re accompanied by your suitors who walked you to your limousine on the left and right of you. Even if someone were going to try to get a picture of you, the view is blocked. 

They only get a glimpse of royalty.

In the box right next to the stage, you sit in a velvet chair. There was one seat next to you but it was empty. You can look down directly onto the stage and the lower audience.

The curtain was low and the stage was dark, and the guests whispered quietly. They are all regulars at nightclubs, usually laughing and exchanging drinks, but tonight no one is making any noise. The audience is dressed in fine kimonos or foot-length evening dresses, ladylike and reserved. Although he is a male escort, Ruri Kazama's performance has been praised by several kabuki masters, who didn’t mind saying in the newspapers that they have gone out of their way to visit rowdy nightclubs to listen to this kabuki lover's performance. This is not a game, but a proper Kabuki performance, a masterpiece.

 Caesar and Chu Zihang were sitting in a box on the second floor, so you couldn’t see them but they could see you clearly from across the theater.

 "Ah… I guess this is my seat.” A familiar voice says. Chance walked down to the seat next to you. At your wide eyed surprise he said, “Were you expecting someone else?”

You were expecting Z to show up. But of course you couldn’t say that. “I thought none of you could get tickets.”

“I have an inside contact.” He winked and you notice that he has a pin on the lapel of his tux.  It was the Chinese character "ghost". Your jaw drops and you stare up at him in concern. On the envelope containing your invitation, there was a small seal in the corner, consisting of a painted dragon and that same character. Caesar told you that meant that this performance was hosted by Ruri Kazama and that Ruri was a Ghost and belonged to the Devil Clan, the enemies of Hydra. Chance raises one finger to his lips. “I see you understand.”

“You’re the inside contact. You’re the one who told Ruri about me. About… all of us?”

He nodded once, winking.

You lean forward, smiling nervously. “Then you’re… like me? You’re with the Devil Clan?”

Chance smiled warmly at your bright enthusiasm, but sat back in his chair. He was still wearing his bright gold chains and hands were freshly painted with a new pattern in Henna. “Have you ever seen a performance like this before?”

You shake your head. He was clearly changing the subject to avoid talking about his unstable bloodline. The knowledge that he was a Ghost like you cast Chance in a new light. You had so many questions. You had more in common with him than you did with Chisei Gen.

 "Just look at the translation screen above the stage. The lyrics will appear there for you to read so you understand the show.”

Z said that this Kabuki performance would answer many of the questions you’d had since waking up at Cassell and your pulse quickened. Finally, you would start to get a grasp on your new reality.

 The lights suddenly went dark, and someone struck a snare drum. The drums sounded hoarse and low, like a ghost whispering in a distant ancient time. The curtain was pulled back and the plain white woman stood quietly in the center of the stage, draped with long, dark hair.

But it wasn’t a woman. It was Ruri Kazama.

"All happiness in this world is a fleeting blossom in the shadow of the moon. 

Only loneliness and pain are always with us in the depths of Hell.”  

He sang and slowly raised his head, his face as pale as paper, only the corners of his eyes were a harsh blood red.

His costume looks like a stark ghost in the depths of the underworld, but his body is graceful and feminine, just like a stunningly beautiful woman wrapped in a veil, making people's hearts flutter.

But the words he sang. In the first lyric, Ruri Kazama presented a stinging rebuttal to your response to him the day before, when you proudly told him you were not perishing. Chance turned to look at you. His hand moved over your hand and he gave it a gentle squeeze but that was scarce comfort. You were suddenly struck with a sense of doom, as though the voice of Ruri Kazama were a death knell.

[punkcupcakestyles]

Love Song

Part 15

Catch Up!

Sofia Welsh-De La Rosa and Timothée Chalamet will star in new Amazon series and, honestly, I won’t talk about anything else ever again

Amazon Prime has just announced the release of its new original series set in 1970’s New York. According to Hollywood Reporter, the new series will be lead by Sofia Welsh - De La Rosa, Timothée Chalamet, and Logan Lerman, and will be produced by Jordan Peele (Get Out and Us) and directed by Christina Hodson (Birds of Prey). The ambitious project is in talks with some other big names in Hollywood, such as Meryl Streep and even Robert de Niro, to join the series.

Honestly, I’m gagging. 

This might come as a surprise as both Sofia, who has been enjoying lots of Oscar’s buzz for the third year in a row, and Timothèe are on the prime of their movie careers, as two of the most prominent young actors in Hollywood, but according to many sources, Sofia has been looking for a way to work with Peele for a long time, while Timothèe is excited to add some action to his resume, after his role in Hostiles and The King. Also, rumor has it, Amazon is willing to pay a hefty (and I mean hefty) amount of money to sign the young stars. 

As for Logan Lerman, this is his the actor’s first TV role since 2005 and is set to be his comeback after his career faded a bit to the background. With the star-studded cast, Amazon is hoping this to be the platform’s next big hit. 

There is no doubt that Sofia, Timothèe, and Logan are three of THE most talented young actors today, with Sofia being the reigning queen of the pack. Recently, the actress has played a pirate, a thief, a devious courtesan and a feminist writer trying to bring down love, and she’s been rumored to have just signed a deal with Disney to play her very own princess, as well as an undisclosed character in MCU’s highly anticipated Black Widow. She truly has the range, Darling!

Sofia was seen having coffee with Timothèe early in the week, before the show’s announcement, which sparked rumors that the actress had ended things with Harry Styles after he had dinner with his ex in London. She was also seen leaving the James Corden Late Late Night’s studio with Logan...

@BobbyC I’m sorry but all of them are gay...

@Peanutbuttah Eh, she can’t act anyway

@Loveisloud @peanutbuttah She can act, she has been in commercial and art-house movies and has received rave reviews every time. You just don’t like her because she’s dating your fave. 

@Arewethereyet she’s an sl*t. So glad Harry’s done with her…

@Soph Are you drunk Buzzfeed? One does not leave Harry Styles for anyone!

****

Harry was cooking. 

The air smelled like garlic and butter and I breathed in deeply, just realizing how fucking hungry I was, as I followed him to the kitchen. It just occurred to me that I hadn’t eaten anything that day, other than a cup of coffee that Harry had made me in the morning. It was a little strong for my taste, I liked mine with sugar, even when my mom kept telling me I was being violently disrespectful to coffee. I didn’t care, not one bit. 

I never really ate on interviews or auditions days, it made my tummy feel funny and I was usually afraid that my clothes wouldn’t fit like they were supposed to after, so, no food for me, thank you. Usually, D would force-feed me as soon as we were done, practically shoving fruits, nuts, and salads down my throat (sometimes even a burger!), but today I was way too anxious and excited to even pay attention to her efforts. I was going on a date with Harry, I couldn’t care less about anything else!!!

And now, I was fucking hungry and it smelled even better in the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you cooked,” I smiled, looking at the pasta that was boiling on the stove and the bubbling alfredo sauce. Grilled prawns and a green salad were carefully plated in rustic blue and gold plates.

My eyes traveled to him, and I saw him hesitate for a second before he gifted me with a shy smile. He was so lovely, it was no surprise that my head became fuzzy every time I was around him. Even the most superficial thought struggled to grab a hold to my brain. I wondered if anyone could keep their wits around him, but somehow, I doubted it.

“It takes my mind off of things,” he finally said. “And I kinda wanted to impress you, I guess.” 

The admission made my heart soar in my chest and I beamed at him as he stood in front of me. I admired his beauty for a second, his skin was slightly tanned and it looked almost delicious against the white fabric of his shirt, and his smile was warm, making me feel giddy as he trapped me against the counter with his arms on each side of my body. 

I wanted to kiss him, so so badly, but instead, I let my fingers brush over his neck until they reached the tips of his hair. It tickled and he laughed softly with the most wonderful smile.

“Really?” I asked him softly, cause I didn’t want to break the intimate moment we were sharing. 

“Yeah. A bit silly, innit?”

“No, it’s not silly. But, if you wanted to impress me, then you should’ve made a chocolate lava cake,” I teased. “You would’ve gotten me, then.”

“Chocolate, uh?” The right corner of his lip shot upwards, and an adoring feeling hit me right in the chest like a tidal wave. 

“Yeap.”

“I’ll keep it in mind for next time,” Harry muttered, his words getting lost in the air as he leaned down to kiss me.

I realized that it was all I wanted: To kiss him slowly, maybe even for hours. But I knew I had to stop him. I was under his spell and there was nothing I could do about it, nothing I wanted to do, anyway. But even I could admit that this was just a dream, one that I wanted to remember every second of. So when he was gone, I would still have those memories. 

So before his lips could brush mine, before he could melt my brain with his kisses, I pressed my forehead to his and dropped my hands to his chest, right where his heart was beating rapidly. 

“Sorry,” I said shyly, casting my eyes down so I wouldn’t have to look at him, not a few more seconds, not until I had gathered the will to stand strong by my decision. 

“Is there something wrong?” His voice was full of sincere concern, a little bit rougher as well, which made his accent more noticeable. 

“No,” I shook my head, finally looking into his green eyes. “Everything’s perfect.”

“You just don’t want me to kiss you?”

“It’s just...I want to remember every bit of tonight,” I said, as I tried to ease the utter embarrassment that was crawling over my chest. Who said stuff like that? Writers in cheesy movies or bad teen shows. Fuck. 

“Except for my kisses?” He insisted, almost like a little boy fishing for reassurance. I brought my fingers to his cheek and grazed them it until he smiled at me. 

The answer was “fuck, no”. His kisses were a memory I wanted to carry with me forever. But I also wanted to have that night, so I could carry it with me, and compare it to every other date, every other person that would come my way. 

“I want to remember the little details,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “The dinner you made, which is really close to burning, the grandpa pants…”

“Hey! These look cool! And the sauce, I have it under control!”

“If you say so,” I sneered mischievously, twisting my lips into a mocking smile as he pretended to be offended. “And I want to remember everything you did to make me feel special”

Harry’s arms looped around my waist as he pulled me to his chest and I hugged him back and looked at him, battling the need to just lean in and kiss him. His lips were so pink. 

We both sucked at the whole “no kissing allowed” thing, and somehow that made me feel a lot better. For once, I wasn’t the needy, dreamy one. 

“What do you think?” I asked in a whisper, smiling against the brush of his lips as he bumped our noses together.

“I want to kiss you, Sof, all fucking night long,” he pouted. “Been thinking ‘bout it all day.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Just...lemme have this, yeah?”

“Why?”

“Cause…” I laughed embarrassedly. “I already have your kisses in a little folder in my brain. Now I wanna have this.”

“Is it just me in that folder?” Harry asked, suddenly interested in some other thing that frowning. Curiosity and amusement were burning in his stare and I rolled my eyes at him, almost scoffing at the fact that was the only thing that had managed to catch his attention. 

“Mostly you…” I conceded, even though the petty part of me was all for rolling out with a long list of names before I got to his name. “And Sebastian Stan…” I said, not being able to resist it. 

“Bucky Barnes?” His eyebrows twisted in confusion and he looked at me as I licked my lips, considering just how weird I wanted my answer to be.  

“And the cartoon, too...” I replied, a little bit too casually for it to go unnoticed, but Harry didn’t seem to notice, cause as he was nodding thoughtfully, his hands traveled to my neck again, making me look at him as he dipped his head down to reach the curve of my neck. 

“That’s a bit greedy, baby,” He whispered against my skin, pressing soft kisses down to my pulse point. I wasn’t sure if that was technically a kiss, and I didn’t care, it felt so good. “Someone else?” He was cheating, and we both knew it. I could feel his smile growing bigger, and I sighed as he grazed his teeth over the curve of my neck and let his tongue soothe my skin. “Babe?” He insisted, just to tease me. It was hard to think, and he knew it, but I wasn’t going to admit it just yet. 

“Uh.” I licked my lips and struggled for a second, as I struggled to remember what was it that I was going to say. “Chris Evans, “ I began. “and uh, Michael B. Jordan. Mmm… and Logan Lerman.”

“Isn’t that the guy you’re gonna work with?” He asked, stopping suddenly to look at me. I fluttered my eyes open and smiled when they could finally focus on him. 

“Yeah, him and Timothée Chalamet.”

“Mmmm...I don’t know if I want to share my folder with them,” Harry pouted, which made me laugh. I realized it was no laughing matter, but still, a warm, almost giddy, laughter kept bubbling out of my tummy. 

“Why? Does it make you jealous, H?” I teased.

“Should I be?”

“Mmmm...I don’t know. I honestly think I would let Logan fuck me...those eyes, man.”

“So funny, S…” Harry rolled his eyes. He was not as amused as I had expected him to be. 

“You shouldn’t be,” I said softly, looking him in the eyes, serious and sincere.  

“You sure?” He asked and I was sure he wasn’t talking about Logan Lerman anymore. 

“I’m sure, baby.” I wasn’t even lying. “So, who’s in yours?” I asked, cause maybe that’d take attention away from myself. I didn’t think things through though, cause he had a whole bunch of options for his answer. Who could it be? One of his supermodel exes? His singer ex? This wasn’t a fun game at all. 

“You.”

“Oh, so THAT’S how you answer that kind of question!!” I exclaimed, which made him laugh, and, as he did so, his dimples showed on his face, making him look a little boyish. He was fucking pretty, Jesus. 

“I’m not even trying to be a good boyfriend here,” Harry chuckled, and I relished on the way the word `boyfriend” sounded out of his lips. So pretty, so fucking pretty. “My folder is called “When Sof’s not around”, and I think we need to fill it up, so I don’t run out of thoughts.”

“Oh, we don’t want that,” I scrunched up my nose and shook my head at him as a smile played on my lips. I was so fucking happy and I couldn’t even figure out why. 

“No, we don’t.” The tip of his tongue lapped across his pink lips, and I followed it with my eyes, taking a second or two before I peered up to him again. “I was hoping we could kiss all night,” he said softly. “and maybe I could eat you out by the pool.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit…”

“You wouldn’t need one, baby,” Harry laughed, a mix of mischief and endearment lacing with it. I couldn’t stop staring at him, and my knees wobbled a bit as he leaned down, bumping our noses together one more time, as the soft brush of his lips against my skin made me shiver. 

“Don’t cheat,” I whispered and his soft laugh echoed down in every inch of my body. His lips grazed over my forehead, as he pressed a soft kiss to my skin. 

“Ok, baby. We’ll do it your way.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s silly, y’know?” He started, pushing me back so he could look at me with his bright green eyes. “We’re just starting, Sof.”

****

I wanted to kiss him. 

I looked at him, licking a spoonful of dessert with my head propped on my hand as I listened to him talk, but all I could think of was how much I wanted to lick the trace of chocolate out of his lips. 

“Is there something wrong, S?” I noticed there wasn’t much concern in his voice, not like there usually was when he asked me if I was ok. This time, there was a hint of mockery, almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking and that all I wanted to do was to sit on his lap and press soft kisses from his jaw to his lips. 

Fuck.

“No,” I smiled sweetly, cause I wasn’t one to go down without a fight, and I took his hand in mine and pressed it to my lips before I looked at him again. 

“Were you distracted?” His smile was turning more devilish as the seconds went by and I felt myself get warm as he leaned closer, his hands dropping to my thigh and pressing softly to it.

He wasn’t gonna win. I was not going to let him. 

“Nope,” I said, letting the ‘p’ pop between my lips. “Tell me about your album, I promise I’ll be a grown-up about it.” 

“Nice save…” Harry chuckled. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

“I have recently discovered that I’m a very jealous person. I don’t think I’ll like it, but I’ll be happy for you.”

“You shouldn’t be jealous.” A smile tugged on his lips and I felt warm, so warm inside, I couldn’t help but smile as well. “And I think you’re like it, especially since I made a few last-minute changes, against Jeff’s will.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, he kept saying I had the guts, the audacity to change the album when we’re about to drop the first single.”

“What changes?” I insisted, because Jeff’s feelings were the least of my concern at the moment. 

I wished I could have played it cool. Maybe that would’ve made me look more interesting, aloof, unapproachable, and all those things a girl should be in front of her crush. But my heart was racing and the world was turning chaotic as my head ticked, like a tiny little bomb. 

I needed to know. 

Tick, tick. 

“You’re already sure you’re not gonna like it,” Harry smirked, surely unaware of the mess inside my head. “You might as well wait for it.”

No!!! TIck tick. 

“Oh, please, please, pretty please?? What’s the advantage of this if I can’t get a tiny sneak peek?”

“Well, for instance, you get me to cook for you…”

“It was delicious, thank you.”

“And you get me to eat you out at night when you’re not being stubborn and imposing kiss-bans.”

“I like that very much, too,” I giggled, looking at his green eyes as he got just a bit closer, just an inch away from me. 

“So it’s not such a bad deal, is it?”

“I guess not.”

“Good.” His bottom lip rolled into his lips and he bit it thoughtfully for a couple of seconds as his eyes kept burning little holes into my soul. That’s how it felt. “Let’s watch a movie, baby. Are there any bans on cuddling?”

“No, not yet.”

His fingers squeezed mine and he got up swiftly from the table, smiling brightly as we covered the few steps to a different room near the pool, where a giant screen awaited for us. There were a bunch of individuals blue chair, blue and velvety, and a larger one, that was meant to comfortably fit two. The room was dark, only lit by the lights coming from the screen, and I followed him blindly until we were sitting side by side. Slowly, we found each other, and as Harry sat against the armchair, I settled between his legs, cuddling up to his chest while his large hand rested on the curve of my waist. 

He smelled like a lazy Sunday morning when the rain is lightly tapping on your windows and all you can hear are the chirping birds when still early, so the world hasn’t woken up just yet and you get to focus on that feeling, on the promise of what’s coming. 

He also smelled like pasta and chocolate, and I didn’t mind that at all. 

He felt soft, comforting, and sweet, but above all, he felt safe. I was safe with him. 

And, I struggled for a bit, trying to understand what came next, what was the warmth and giddiness that settled in my tummy every time I looked at him. 

“You ok, baby?” Harry asked and I nodded absentmindedly, not ready to let my thoughts go just yet. What was it? “Wanna watch Set It Up?”

“Yeah, whatever you want. your choice.”

“Are you sure you’re ok? You don’t say that often.”

“Oh, shhh, Harry I always do whatever you want.”

“We definitely have different definitions of ‘Whatever Harry wants’” He mused and I propped myself up to look at him, almost suspiciously, almost angry.

“Do we? What do you want?” I asked. 

“To kiss you. And for you to stay the night.”

“I have a bed, y’know?” I quirked my eyebrow, looking at him as I had already won the argument. 

“Yeah, unfortunately…”

“And we promised we would behave tonight.”

“You can stay in a different room,” he offered. “Or I will.”

“What’s the point then?”

“You won’t have to miss me in the morning…” he shrugged. I laughed out loud, despite my best efforts to look offended. “And I won’t have to miss you.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Love. 

He looked a lot like love. 

And love looked a lot like him. 

***

Harry Styles and Sofia Welsh were out grabbing Fro-yo and I’ll never be as cool as either of them

Yes, I know what you’re gonna say: Are they paying you to write this sh*t? And the answer is yes! someone’s paying me to write this sh*t! Alas, neither Harry nor Sofia is. I wish. 

The usually private couple, and bear in mind I am using the word couple loosely here as they haven’t confirmed to be dating, gave the world a glimpse of their relationship as they stepped out in Los Angeles to grab ice-creams and bubble teas, along with friends.

Ever since the rumors of their relationship spread around, the couple has been mostly keeping a low profile - which is not very surprising as Harry Styles is not very open about his personal life since he was a member of One Direction and a large part of his fans believed him to be romantically involved with one of his bandmates (that was a mouthful! And also very true, there has been a lot of conspiracy theories about it)

Sofia, who’s in the middle of an Oscar campaign (and has been showing us just how much designers adore her), sported a pair of leggings, a crop top, and a large blazer, a perfect outfit for the ever-changing LA weather, and looked happy and relaxed as she waited for Harry to get their orders. Both stars took photos with fans and left together in Styles’ classic car…

****

We were made out of good intentions. 

We slept together that night and every night after that for an entire week. We didn’t do much, we kissed and cuddled, and spent our mornings lazily together until one of us had to go out to the real world. We even went out and we kept stealing looks and smiles at each other, like two little kids that were too shy in front of their crushes. 

Photos were taken. Articles were published. Midge was elated. 

Harry’s new single was coming out that night, and there was going to be a party to celebrate it. If it was a hit, they were going to celebrate their success and all the hard work that went into it. It was a flop, and it was not going to flop, they were going to drink for better times ahead. 

“Fuck!!!” 

I stared at the ceiling, willing my body to move and failing miserably at it as every little muscle in my body contracted painfully. My arms hurt, and my legs felt like they were on fire. 

I just needed 5 more minutes before I got up and got ready to leave. 

It was day 4 of “my new life” as my trainer liked to call it, and after another lunch of grilled chicken and steamed broccoli, I was ready to quit. I had trained and dieted before for different roles, but this time, I had a feeling she wanted to suck the life out of me. It even made me reconsider if I needed to be in a Marvel Movie. Would Midge kill me if I quit?

“Sof…” The male voice scared me just a little, as I thought I was alone in my house. I turn around just slightly, as much as my tired poor body could handle and smiled as I saw Sam standing by my door. “Can I come in?”

He was holding a tray, with something that looked like a sandwich, coffee, and a glass of water, along with a white bottle of medicine. I nodded, grunting even at the soft movement, and he walked quickly to my bed, setting the tray down before me as he stood awkwardly. 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I struggled to ask while I propped myself up and sat criss-cross on my bed. I sounded angry, and maybe I was, why would he bring me a sandwich? It was all I wanted to eat and all I couldn’t eat at the same time. 

“I’m off work today, and I wanted to check on you. Cat told me you’ve been feeling under the weather. I called your mom and she told me you should “just eat a sandwich and take an aspirin”, so here they are,” he said, offering me a childish smile as he pointed the tray with a little too much joy. 

“I can’t eat a sandwich,” I sulked. “And I need to get ready, I have to go to Harry’s.”

“You can eat a sandwich. And he can wait 5 minutes, you’re always there.”

I realized we hadn’t talked about the kiss, not really. I avoided being alone with him, and whenever the occasion presented itself, Sam would go out of the room, giving me space and maybe waiting for me to be the first one to reach out. I had never done that. Honestly, I didn’t think I would.

“You’re right, Sammy,” I said, picking the sandwich in my hands and noticing that he had already cut the crust off. “Thank you.”

It was weird between us, tense and quiet, and I didn’t like it. I bit into the bread looking at an empty spot on the wall as I waited for him to say something. Anything, I would take it. But Sam remained silent, pressing his palms on his thighs as he went to get up. 

“Sam,” I called for him and I smiled shyly when he finally turned around. He took his time, though, and for a moment there, I was scared he was going to leave. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what you want to hear when someone you like kisses you.”

“I shouldn’t have…”

“Did you want to?”

“Yes,” I breathed and I realized I wasn't lying. I did want to kiss him, there was no use in denying that. 

I put the sandwich down on the plate and moved closer to Sam until I could see the golden freckles that were hidden in his light brown eyes.

“Do you remember that night when you came through my window and stayed the night with me?”

“Yeah, I heard your dad scream, and I wanted to be there in case…”

“I know, Sam. I’ve wanted to kiss you ever since then,” I admitted and he kept staring at me as if he was considering what his next move would be. Would he kiss me? Did I want him to kiss me?

“You’re not being fair to me, Sof.”

“I know. You haven’t been fair to me either, but here we are.”

There was a moment of panic, cause for a second, I thought he was going to kiss me. He leaned over me and I held my breath as I looked at him, not able to stop him just yet. But as his lips brushed over my forehead, I closed my eyes, smiling as he pulled away from me. 

“Eat the fucking sandwich, Sof,” he replied and it wasn’t enough. I took his hand before he could leave and I licked my lips, peering up to him with something more than just fear pressing up to my chest. 

“Are we good?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess we’ll talk about it again when he gets back with his ex.”

That was a low blow, and we both knew it, but I just stayed quiet as he left the room, wondering if I deserved it. 

****

It took me a while to get ready, so I was late for Harry’s party. I went straight to the pool, where a large screen had been set up and the new video seemed to be on a loop. I couldn’t find Harry anywhere, but at the same, he was all I could see. I stared at the screen, looking at his golden skin as he was surrounded by the adoring crowd, at the way they kept touching and the expression on his face as he leaned into them. The song didn’t even matter, cause all I could focus on was his stupidly beautiful green eyes. 

I mean, I had watched his videos before. I had seen him fly through the sky and be surrounded by kids, but this was different. Those were entertaining and beautiful, and I felt the emotion in my tummy simply because it was him, and somehow, just seeing him made me happy. But in this one he meant to capture your attention and a little bit of your soul. He wanted to be desired and to be free along the way. And it was such a fucking sexy video.  

I lost count of how many times I allowed myself to watch the video, but it was probably too many times. After a while, I decided it was time to look for the real Harry, who was still nowhere to be seen, so I left the pool, smiling and greeting everyone as I passed by. 

I hoped he was alone, cause I wanted to fucking kiss him like no one else was looking. I wanted to tell him how lovely, talented, and amazing he was. I was going to kiss him a lot and praise him, it couldn’t get better than that. 

I looked for him in the living room, where a small crowd was throwing back cocktails and beers and went out to the front door, where people were lounging about, a bit drunkenly. But he wasn’t anywhere, and I was starting to feel uneasy. 

It took me more than a few minutes to make my way to his room because people kept getting in my way. I did my best to smile and engage in silly conversations about nothing, but my heart was growing heavy and my brain was too anxious to even remember if I had succeeded. 

I heard him talk even before I stood by his door. I couldn’t quite tell what he was saying or who he was talking to, but I noticed that his words were a little bit slurred, and his accent dripped thick in his low voice. The door was slightly ajar and I pushed it open and stood by the frame as I saw him talking on the phone. He had his back to me, so he didn’t notice that I had arrived, not that it mattered. 

“C, you’re drunk,” I heard him say and I wished he had just said a different name. “No...I know I told you it was just a PR relationship...Cause I need time to figure out...Really, C? Wanna know if I still love you? You’re not being fair...” The last part came out as a dry laugh, and I knew I had to leave, it was rude and inappropriate, but, most importantly, it was breaking my fucking heart. But my feet seemed like they were made out of cement, and my legs had chosen that moment to numb out of pain. So, I was still standing there when he turned around, and probably saw the tears that were threatening to spill down my eyes. 

I wanted to know the answer too. Could I know it? It’d save us a lot of pain. 

“Bye, C.”

He dropped his phone to the bed and I looked at him as he walked quickly to me. He looked flustered and worried, but it all seemed so distant, that it didn’t matter. 

“Baby,” Harry said, but that wasn’t my name. Did her call her baby too? He probably did, he was a ‘baby’ kind of guy. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I was looking for you cause I wanted to check if you wanted me to post something on Instagram,” I lied. “D already drafted a tweet, it’s really simple.”

“Sof, how much did you hear?”

“Nothing. I’m gonna get a couple of photos and uh, I’m gonna go home, I think I need a rest day.”

His hand went to grab mine, but before he could do it, I turned and walked away rushing down the stairs until I could get lost in the crowd. 

Fair? None of us was being fair. 

[mercurryblack]

Chapter 11: Cait (Part 1)

You speak of the Grimm that scour the land outside the cities?

The real monsters are already here.

❃❃❃

“Can you please *hah* tell me why *heh* we’re running to *huh* Yuen’s office?” Cait wheezed.

After Hattie had so gleefully hinted at what they were going to do, she had wasted no time in dragging Cait out of the door and ordering them to run as fast as they could to the precinct, giving them only enough time to grab their weapon; a pair of chain flails they had christened as Entwined Catenary.

“I called her up, and she said that Sardion and her were going to go investigate a potential lead!” replied Hattie, her weapon Whirling Dervish strapped over her back in its gun form and her left hand firmly around Cait’s right wrist. Her jubilant attitude appeared to be doing wonders for her stamina—despite the fact that they had been running for a good half mile, she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

“Wait, seriously? Where?” Cait asked, completely forgetting about their still-incomplete essay. Despite their past week of getting nowhere, a small feeling of excited anticipation sparked within them.

“I don’t know the details yet! We have to hurry, though, she said they’re waiting for us!” Hattie said as she finally let go of Cait’s wrist, keeping pace ahead of her teammate.

***

After a few more minutes’ worth of running, the duo stopped in front of the precinct to find Sardion already waiting outside. The streets were vacant except for the trio, with the building’s windows darkened and Yuen nowhere to be seen.

“Okay, so… where’re we going?” Hattie chirped, bouncing on her heels as Cait took a minute to catch their breath.

“Out to the Manju-Shage District.” Yuen answered. “It’s a long shot, but we might pick up a trail out there, if nothing else.”

“Manju-Shage?” Cait asked. “That’s a pretty long way from here.” Their legs weren’t suitable for a mile-long run and such a walk, with only a five-minute breather.

“Don’t worry,” Sardion said. “We’re taking a ride.”

A sound of a whirring propeller overhead caught the two students’ ears. They glanced up to see a compact Sailship descending from above them, lowering itself beside the trio to hover just above the pavement. It was noticeably smaller than the transport Sailships that the city police usually flew, but it looked to be big enough for the lot of them.

“Might as well get there in a bit of style, eh?” Sardion said, hopping into the cabin. “Climb aboard, you two.”

“Where’s Detective Yuen?” Cait asked as they hoisted themselves in. “Wasn’t she the one who called up Hattie?”

Sardion jabbed a thumb at the cockpit, and Cait turned to see Yuen sitting in the pilot’s seat.

“You two got your weapons and everything?” Yuen asked, turning to speak to them. “I don’t want to waste any time.”

Hattie nodded, her grin brimming with excitement. “Locked and loaded, captain!”

“Detective Captain,” Yuen replied, feigning amusement. “Well, at least you’re enthusiastic about this. I’ve never seen anyone this eager to check out Manju-Shage.”

“Hey, where’s Rudyard?��� Hattie asked, realizing the man in question was nowhere to be seen. “Wouldn’t he want to come along for this?”

“No idea where he is,” Sardion said, shaking his head. “We tried to get through to him before calling you, but he left his Scroll in my office. I left behind a note for him, just in case he comes back to look for it.”

Yuen cleared her throat, turning back to the sailship’s controls. “Alright, guys, hang on to something— I’m gonna take us up.”

With a rush of wind and a roar from the engines as the propellers sped up, the sailship slowly rose into the air, sailfins gently undulating up and down as the vehicle ascended.

“Whoa…” Hattie uttered in breathless awe, never having experienced a ride so high before. “I can see the whole city from up here. If it were lighter, I could probably see Lake Matsu from here… this is so cool.”

“Mmm.” Cait hummed in apparent agreement, looking less interested than the former.

Sardion cocked an eyebrow at Cait’s uncharacteristically morose behavior, but chose to say nothing of it. He brushed his hand against the handle of his weapon, holstered in its pistol form inside of his jacket. While his gut feeling more or less indicated this excursion would be as inconsequential as the past seven days, he couldn’t help but entertain the uneasy thought that something would end up going wrong.

At least nobody said ‘what’s the worst that could happen’, he thought to himself. ‘...Wait, damn, does that still apply if you think about—’

“Don’t get too comfy,” Yuen called out over the noise of the engine, interrupting his paranoid inner monologue. “We’ll be there in ten minutes tops.”

***

To the two of them, the simple act of killing was an easy task, and a depravedly enjoyable one at that.

The art of assassination was not, nor was it particularly fun— especially when it involved multiple targets. The job called for sleepless nights, long boring stakeouts, the painstaking task of ensuring any kills had no trace of evidence, and comparably squalid living conditions in hideouts.

While they weren’t exactly the neatest duo for such a profession, they had tried their best. The two had always preferred making their kills nice and personal, one of them in particular relishing the opportunity to savor every dying breath.

Suffice to say, neither had much regard for the mess they tended to leave behind. This time around, however, they had been given specific instructions to leave no trace.

“I gotta admit, the plan you had to clean up those two loose ends wasn’t half bad. Still doesn’t look like anyone’s caught wind of us yet.” Nest observed.

She stood atop a stump of concrete on the edge of a dilapidated apartment block’s roof, her partner sitting on the ledge beside her.

“If we’d kicked down both doors like you suggested, the whole Mistral City police force would be breathing down our necks right now.” her partner said. “You see, Nest, you should think sometimes about focusing on your brain rather than your brawn. Then again, since you don’t even have a Semblance, that’s not saying a lot.”

“…You calling me dumb, Moira?” Nest asked, bristling slightly.

“No, I’m calling you unreasonable and impulsive, because you always want to fight without thinking about your next move.” Moira retorted. “But if you want to call yourself dumb, I won’t argue with it. Just remember that you said it, not me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just jealous ‘cause that tongue of yours isn’t all that useful. At least I can fly, froggy!” Nest hissed.

“Whatever you say.” Moira said. “Dumbass.”

“RRRRRRR—!” Nest growled, the metal wings fused to her back scratching together as she rounded on Moira, razor-tipped feathers glinting dangerously in the moonlight. “Say that again, I dare you! I double-dare you!”

“Calm down.” Moira said, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, your whole thing about ‘leaving them alive just to toy with them a while’ nearly cost us big. What are you, a housecat with anger issues? You remember as well as I do what Faine said about these two.”

“Tch.” Nest glared at her, folding her wings in reluctant acquiescence. “Fine, whatever. Any update on where we’re supposed to go with the kitty cat yet?”

Moira shook her head. “You know, if I’m being honest, I still can’t believe that we found them.” She leaned back, letting out a long sigh of disbelief. “It’s been so long, and just when we least expect it…”

“Mmmh..” Nest mumbled. “Boss’s still being too soft on them, if you ask me.”

“What, the whole thing he said about not hurting them?” Moira asked. “You make it sound like you didn’t expect it, but you know as well as I do how much they mean to him.”

Nest threw her hands up, growing more exasperated the more she thought about it. “Goddamnit, Moira, he hasn't shown me a tenth of the kindness he has to them for the last eighteen years, and here I am, ready to die for him! Cait… that little bastard’s got an ungrateful streak half a mile wide. That's why I never cared much for them, you know?”

She shook her head in disgust. “I just can’t stand anyone who won’t stand by their own.”

***

Cait hunched over in the cabin, their elbows on their knees and their hands holding their head as they stared at the metal floor. Their chest felt painfully tight, and butterflies were practically swarming in their stomach.

“Are you okay? Even without my Semblance, I can tell you’re not feeling well.” Hattie asked Cait, the latter sitting alone in the center of the sailship. “You’ve got ‘anxiety’ written all over you.”

Cait looked up, a bit surprised that Hattie had noticed. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a bit stuffy in here, that’s all,” they said. 

Hattie pouted. “I’m not dumb, Cait— it’s a chilly night, and we’re in an open-door sailship.

“If you want some air, maybe it’s best for you to come closer over here.” Sardion added, pointing at a seat next to the edge of the cabin where the windstream was stronger.

“I said I’m fine.” Cait said, a bit more emphatically. “Seriously, don’t worry about me. It’s just… jitters or something.”

Hattie and Sardion looked at each other. “Okay, just... don’t freak out, okay? We’ve got this.”

Cait nodded, looking down again.

While it eased up slightly with the pair’s reassurances, the knot in their chest remained as the sailship drew above Manju-Shage. It was a feeling of dread they had felt before, and it had been a long enough time since they did that the sensation felt almost foreign— but still, they knew it all too well.

It can’t be him. Not here, of all places… there’s no way he could have found me so soon…

***

“You see that?” Moira said, pointing up at the sky.

“Of course I see it.” Nest snapped. “What’s a sailship doing out here at this time of—” She froze in the middle of her sentence.

“What?” Moira asked, turning to her partner. “What’s the matter?”

“Hold up.” Nest motioned to the open cabin, squinting. “Are my eyes playing tricks on me, or is that… Sardion Sarikaya? And… the kitty?”

“That— oh. Oh, that’s just wonderful.” Moira said, displeasure clear in her tone. “If he’s here, then that means he and the baldy already narrowed it down to here. I knew that we didn’t cover all of our tracks.”

“Stop whining, Moira, don’t you see how good this just turned out for us?” Nest said. “We’ll be killing two birds with one stone. Kill Sarikaya and whatever sidekicks he brought along, sedate the kitty, fly ourselves back home in grand style like we were never here in the first place. I’m telling you, it’s the perfect opportunity.”

Moira raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to rebuff her partner before pausing. “I could dismantle any tracking device that’d be on that ship… and we could scrap it once we touch down.” After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, Nest. Let’s play it your way.”

***

“Whoa… this place is super gloomy.”

Under the sailship’s floodlights, the bright blue accents of Hattie’s dress stood out from the dilapidated grays of the decrepit Manju-Shage District. Yuen had opted to land the sailship dead center in the ruins of the abandoned city expansion, in a small area where a park likely would have stood. The grass around the perimeter was clumped and overgrown, neglected yet still alive.

“It’s a shame this wasn’t even finished.” Sardion said. “Would’ve been a nice place if they’d gone through with it, but now it’s just a big waste.”

“Speaking of, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yuen said, a shotgun slung over her shoulder. “Sometimes a Grimm or two make it in here, but never anything the police can’t handle. What I’m worried about is the squatters.”

“Squatters?” Sardion said.

“Yeah. We’ve had a few times where some thugs from the Hana Guild or the Spiders decide to drop in and lay low if they’ve made trouble in the city.”

“They ever killed anyone before?” Sardion asked a bit warily. “Given who it is we’re looking for…”

“No,” Agave replied. “There’s a first time for everything, though, so stay alert.”

***

“They’re coming closer, froggy.” Nest called down to Moira, beating her metal wings to keep herself level as she hovered a few meters above her partner.

“How many?”

“Four in all. The leader, the detective… the kitty… and their teammate.” Nest replied. “So what do you say? Who gets who?”

“I’ll deal with the grown-ups, you take the children. Look, just try not to hurt them too much— he won’t be happy at all if you do, and I’m not taking the blame on your behalf if you screw up.”

“Fair enough.” Nest said, landing beside her, a tense note of excitement in her voice as she furrowed her wings. “When do we start?”

“Patience, Nest. Let them play around a little bit more.” Moira said, flicking out her serpentine tongue. A single fleck of spittle dripped from a polymer barb on the end, and landed on the concrete below. It hissed for a second, then melted right into the stone, leaving a penny-sized crater behind.

Her lips, pocked and distorted by scars and welts, curled into a predatory grin. Several stories below, the quartet from the sailship entered the apartment block.

“Oh, this is going to be ever so fun.”

[theladylovingcrow]

Fuck the Movie, I Wanna Fuck You (Sanny)

Author (As known on Various sites): Lady Lover - Rockfic, luluthechoosingcrow- AO3, theladylovingcrow - Wattpad and Deviantart, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @theladylovingcrow writing/art Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram

Fandom: Greta Van Fleet

Pairing: Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner (Sanny)

Length: about 2k

Warnings/Tags: smut (mutual masturbation, handjobs, cum eating, semi-public sex, making out), some attempted humor, Sanny!!!, movies, first time, first kiss, Kiszka Family in background

Summary: They were taking a break from touring, just chilling back in Frankenmuth. Danny had come over to his second home, and was snuggled up on the couch with his best friend, watching a movie. Everyone else was doing their thing - cooking, playing, talking on the phone - all perfectly normal for a nice, happy family. But FUCK Sam was feeling horny, naughty, and curious as to how Danny would react if he moved his hand just a bit higher....

Author's Notes:

Inspired by a meme on Tumblr that then made me think of Sam and Danny

> *one fish from the spongebob cartoon starts casually unbuttoning another's pants in a movie theater* sigh this movie boring

> Sam: *yawns*

> Danny: bored?

> Sam (shoving his hand down Danny's pants and keeping his eyes on the screen): nope

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

Sam sighed and fidgited, wiggling his little butt against the couch cushions. He had had this idea for, like, twenty minutes, but it was risky - so risky that if any little thing went wrong he would, most likely, be in big trouble. He would get disbelieving, then incredulous, then disgusted, and finally furious looks.

'Sam, what the hell are you doing?! Please don't tell me that was what I thou- you're such a pervert. What the hell is wrong with you?'

And that was only the reactions he imagined he'd get from his family, along with teasing for eternity, once they calmed down. Danny, though - if he reacted badly, then Sam might literally climb onto the roof and refuse to come down, he'd be that embarrassed and ashamed. Except, actually, no, Danny could climb like a monkey. His backup plan was to hide in the woods and become the new Mothman, then.

Danny yawned next to him, putting his arm around Sam's shoulders in the classic move every boy wanted to try since the fifth grade. Inadvertadly, the motion actually made Sam's idea all the easier, which was so not helping him refrain from it.

It was perverted to want to do something like that to your best friend, especially when your family were all within a fifty foot radius of where you were sitting, wandering around and having a jolly good time, occasionally stopping to look in on the movie Danny and Sam were watching.

Ronnie smiled at them, probably thinking it was cute that her little brother was so close with his best friend that they cuddled when they watched a scary kids movie. If only she knew.

Sam clenched his jaw, the acrid burning shame of thinking these thoughts and having these ideas right around his family, having these ideas at all, encompassing his stomach. It was also mingling with another molten liquid - desire, slick and steaming - running down his thighs and wrapping around his fingers, guiding them.

He ran his hand up and down over his own thigh, closing his eyes and imagining that it was Danny's muscled quads he was feeling. The movie was boring as shit, he had only payed attention to the first ten minutes or so; Danny, though, he was captivating and alluring, sitting there next to Sam.

Danny didn't notice any of Sam's internal toil, still being completely invested in whatever cheesy PG thriller they had found on Netflix. He drummed his fingers lightly on Sam's shoulder - always playing to a rhythm, whether he was conscious of it or not. The blanket over their legs shifted a little when Danny uncrossed his feet and brought one knee up on the couch.

Sam mirrored him, seeing the oppurtunity. Fuck the consequences and fuck the likely stupidity of carrying out his plan, he wanted to try goddammit.

Danny didn't really take notice when Sam pushed their thighs together- they always sat close, and he had put his arm around him to cuddle.

Danny didn't care when Sam's hand came to rest on his knee - he just enjoyed the warmth it provided and continued watching the movie. Jake walked by with an harmful of records, heading to the music den with their father, and smirked at them.

When Sam slid his hand up from his knee cap to mid thigh, fingertips pushing into the softer areas of flesh on the insides, he registered it, but it wasn't like Sam never got ultra touchy-feely sometimes.

Sam bit his lip, trying to suppress his grin. He'd gotten this far, and Danny didn't even seem to care! Now, for the make or break -

Danny laughed at something - maybe an over exaggerated fight, Looney Tunes style - when Sam acted out phase two.

He sighed, long and dramatically, resting his head on Danny's shoulder while his hand lightly felt it's way to the bulge in Danny's jeans.

"Bored?" Danny asked, apparently not feeling it yet. Then he stiffened.

"Nope."

Sam kept his cool, head still on Danny's shoulder and eyes now attentively watching the screen. But, under the blankets, he was pushing his fingers into the fly of his best friend's jeans and massaging the head of his dick shit yessss.

He pulled back out and popped the button with only slight difficulty, wrapping his whole hand around Danny. Sam was sure to move slowly, and only his hand, lest anyone see his arm jerking, but he was actually doing it! Jerking Danny off - like he had long wanted to - on the couch while they were watching TV. And no one fucking knew!

What was curious was that Danny hadn't stopped him; he was holding his body, especially his hips, tense, and his breathing was noticeably controlled - but he let Sam do what he was doing.

"It's not a bad movie," Danny spoke, soft, though it still startled Sam. "Could be a bit faster paced, though."

Oh. Well, okay then.

"Yeah, I suppose it could. But, I think it's better this way, since you get to enjoy the buildup more - and the subtlties are nice."

"Mmm, you might be right. I'll have to pay more attention and see."

Sam squeezed and stroked, carefulling pumping Danny. There was no one else in the room at the moment, but he could hear Jake and his dad in the next room, and Ronnie talking to someone down the hall - they wouldn't want to get too carried away.

Danny made a little "Humphh" sound when Sam rubbed his thumb over his slit, spreading the precum around. He pressed his thigh harder against Sam's, whether to stop or encourage him, Sam wasn't sure. He stopped, just in case Danny had changed his mind.

"I'm getting kinda bored of this move, honestly. Wanna go do something else?"

Sam grinned, trying to appear happy but not too happy - he was pretty sure he failed at that, but Josh only gave him a slightly weird look in passing, used to his little brother's eccentricities that near matched his own.

"Yeah, me too. Why don't I show you that new album I got - I know you said it didn't seem like your style but I really think you'll like it."

"Okay," Danny nodded, standing up and keeping the blanket with him, haphazardly folded over his arm in front of his crotch. "I'll try it out. I have a feeling I'll really like it, actually, I'm more open to new experiences now than when you first suggested it."

Sam stood up, too, subtly removing his hand from Danny's front and wrapping his arm around his waist. He guided them over to the stairs and up to his room, turning to lock the door behind them as soon as they both entered.

Danny had dropped the blanket on the floor, and was standing there, staring at Sam, with his pants still hanging open and his hard cock jutting out.

Sam was fucking ecstatic- this was a way better reaction than he'd thought he'd get, but man did that plan pay off. He nearly sprinted over to his record player, picking up a new (ly purchased, but really old) album and putting it on. He didn't know who had heard their conversation, but he wanted to make it seem like they really were just listening to music.

And, the smooth Jazz also helped to sound out the quiet sounds of Sam's hand stroking Danny and their mouths meeting in a passionate French kiss.

Danny broke away, resting his forehead against Sam's and snorting. "Nice music choice, really sets the mood."

Sam shrugged, blushing a bit. "I wasnt necessarily going for this, I just grabbed a record from my stack of new ones."

In truth, he felt like it set a perfect mood, but he didn't wanna say that. This was all cool and fun - making out with his best friend and giving him a hand job, totally normal! - but to try and be romantic? Sam didn't know how far Danny wanted to take this, or if he was just curious about getting off with a guy for a change.

"I like it," Danny whispered, going back in for another kiss.

He tangled their tongues again, but it was slower - more exploratory now that they had gotten the frantic 'Oh my god come here I need to taste you' first kiss out of the way. Danny cupped one hand around the back of Sam's neck, holding him close while he took control of the kiss. Sam let him, of fucking course.

Danny's other hand, Sam realized, was following much the same journey his had earlier - from his thigh, up to tickle the insides, then to squeeze at Sam's own erection trapped in his skinny jeans.

He hadn't expected this - or, at least, had tried not to get his hopes up. Sam would have been satisfied with the one experience of getting Danny to cum, he really would have, but he desired a whole lot more.

Apparently, Danny was going to reciprocate and give that to him. Sam's jeans were undone and he was taken out - no underwear, of course - taken into the warm expanse of Danny's strong hands.

Sam moaned, luckily drowned put by a blast of saxophone from the record player, and bucked his hips against Danny. His best friend smiled against his mouth, stroking Sam in the same rhythm he was being worked.

Their cocks lined up, hands brushing eachother on each upstroke and sticky heads poking against each other's happy trails. Sam looked down at them, couldn't tear his eyes away; this was a bajillion times more interesting than whatever movie they had been watching.

It seemed like the next logical thing to do was to do this together, all the way, when they were so close. So, Sam opened his hand and grabbed his own cock, jerking him and Danny together.

His bestie groaned, biting at his shoulder. He grabbed them, too, making a tunnel out of their hands which they could fuck.

"Oh, oh my god," Sam panted, pumping his hips into their hands and feeling the friction of Danny's soft skin and hard calluses working all around him.

Danny moaned in agreement, moving faster. He moved his other hand from Sam's neck to the small of his back, holding his body while he shuddered and bucked against him.

Sam felt it - that rush of hot, sticky, stringy goo spurting forth from Danny, coating their tunnel and lubricating the almost-too-much friction they had going. He ground his hips in little circles, shoving his face into Danny's neck and breathing in his scent - and them he came, too.

Holy fucking shit. They just had sex! Sam was grinning so hard his face hurt, and, better yet, Danny was wearing the same expression.

They laughed against each other, filled with endorphins and exhaustion all at once. Sam removed his hand, too sensitive now, and Danny did the same.

He looked down, studying the semen that covered his palm and wrist. "That's hot. That was so fucking hot, man..."

Danny nodded, grabbing at Sam's hand and bringing it up to his mouth, tentatively licking it.

"This hotter?"

Sam sighed, watching Danny take another taste. "Maybe. I dunno, all of that was sexy as fuck. You're sexy, shit. I wasn't sure you wouldn't sock me for trying that."

Danny hummed, running his tongue up and down Sam's sticky wrist. "I was definitely startled, but it was weird: like, I knew what you were doing and I knew that should of freaked me out but it didn't. I was just super excited to be doing something so... dirty."

"Ooh, Daniel, such a bad boy," Sam teased.

Danny smiled and shook his head, leaning in to kiss Sam again. Sam moaned when he tasted himself - Danny - themselves, both of them - in his mouth. It wasn't the best thing he had ever tasted, sensory speaking, but the knowledge that he and Danny were sharing their cum in a kiss .. dead, he had died and gone to heaven.

"Fuck, okay can we have movie night like every night?" Danny asked, searching Sam's eyes for the answer to the real question.

"Yeah, every night. Anytime, all day, I don't care, just wanna do that again."

Danny grinned, kissing Sam's throat and running his hand down Sam's abdomen on the racetrack to round two.

----------

@satans-helper

@okietrish

@lazingonsunday

@bigthighsandstupidguys

@karrotkate

@oblvions

@lantern-inthenight

@mountainofthesunn

@ryetheruler

[ladyloggy]

Home - John Constantine x reader

I also posted this on my wattpad. Everyone over 18 as there is smut, hope y'all enjoy!

For (Name), it had been months since she had last seen John. The two had worked together since the Newcastle incident which John had blamed himself for ever since, but (Name) had stayed with the demonologist and their friendship had evolved into casual sex and then finally a relationship that neither of them had planned for. Like John, (Name) was in control of the dark arts, and along with their friend Chas, had encouraged John to go and work with the Legends for a while, whilst (Name) stayed in the US to help local exorcisms and other demon issues.

But, here (Name) was getting ready to go out on a date with John for the first time in three months. She had missed John as her partner - in both meanings of the word. She loved working with Chas, but she missed John desperately. He knew her inside and out, and she always felt safe and comforted working with John, even in unfamiliar or cruel circumstances. Of course, (Name) also missed John romantically - she missed waking up with him in the morning, going to sleep snuggled in his arms and wearing his shirts and obviously the more intimate part of their relationship. As (Name) hadn't seen John for a while, she wanted to impress him, so she decided to wear some new lingerie that she knew John would appreciate and the outfit that he often complimented her on. With the finishing touches on her outfit, (Name) started to style her hair and fix her makeup, doing her best to cover the bruises that she had gained on her last job so John didn't freak out. By 7pm, (Name) had finished getting ready and just as she grabbed her bag, there was a knock on the door to what (Name) classed as now her apartment. Looking through the peep hole, (Name) couldn't help but smile when she saw the face of her boyfriend holding some flowers and a pack of beers.

"Hi there, stranger." (Name) said, smiling at John as she opened the door.

John smirked, extinguished his cigarette and looked (Name) up and down, "You look stunning, love."

"Not so bad yourself, mister. I've missed you Johnny, come in. How long has it been for you?" (Name) asked, putting the flowers in a vase and the beer in the fridge.

"Couple of weeks love, you know time works different in the temporal zone." John replied, taking a seat on the sofa.

"So you've said." (Name) laughed and offered John one of the refrigerated beers that she had purchased prior to the night. "I got your favourite!"

John grinned, grabbing the beer and reclining as (Name) took a seat next to him on the sofa, her own beer in her hand.

"To date night." John clinked their bottles together before taking a swig.

The two chatted for a while, catching up and reuniting. They told each other stories of the Legends and Chas, and after an hour, (Name) was sat on John' knee as the pair kissed. (Name) had her hands in John's messy blond hair whilst John's had settled on (Name)'s ass, grabbing and squeezing in what was a very John Constantine way. (Name) groaned as they parted, resting her head on John's shoulder.

"I missed this," she confessed, biting John's neck playfully. "I've missed the way your arms feel around me and your unique charm."

"Is that what you're calling my prick now, love?" John teased, wicked grin on his lips. "My charm?"

(Name) laughed, swatting the man on his shoulder. "Head in the gutter as always Johnny."

"Mmm, only for my bird. You said something about food?" John asked.

"I said nothing about food, you hungry bastard, but I was thinking we were going out to your favourite pub." (Name) told John who nodded.

"That'll suffice, love. Come on, I'll get my coat and we'll go."

Conveniently, (Name)'s apartment wasn't far from John's favourite pub, and they were seated at a private booth with drinks and food menus in front of them rather quickly. It wasn't too long before John had his usual beer and (Name) had her drink of choice, as well as their favourite meals. (Name) was happy and content, tucking into her dish with gusto, laughing and joking with John as she ate.

All was calm.

Until it wasn't...

When they had finished their food, the pair moved to a different seat. Whilst no longer a secluded booth, the table was still for two but had a good view of the bar and the live singer.

"I'm just going the men's, love. Get us another round, will you?" John asked.

"Of course Johnny, the same again?" (Name) said, smiling as John nodded with a grin.

"Bang on, babe."

So (Name) went over to the bar, watching as John walked away. His golden blond hair instead was illuminated a shade of emerald green by the fire exit sign above the toilet. Of course, he was wearing the same white shirt as ever, but his red tie had been replaced with a newer one with a slightly lighter shade of red. He looked tired but his smile was genuine when she made him laugh, and other than a few flecks of gray put there by stress and a couple of healed scratches, John looked better than (Name) had seen him in a long time. These Legends people were good for John, maybe even better than she was for him.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?"

The voice broke (Name) from her thoughts and with a glare, she fixed her gaze on a stranger.

"I'm not alone, mate. I'm with my boyfriend." She replied.

"Then where is he?" The strange man countered with a cocky smirk.

"If you have to know, he's taking a piss." (Name) rolled her eyes as the man recoiled slightly.

"Language like that doesn't suit a beautiful girl like you." He continued.

(Name) ignored him, instead speaking to the bartender who passed (Name) her drinks. With her two hands full, (Name) made her way back to their seat where John was waiting for her.

"Thanks, love." He said. "You alright?"

"Yeah Johnny, just some idiot at the bar." (Name) replied, taking a sip of her drink.

John's face darkened with what (Name) could only assume was a look of possessive jealousy. She knew the look well, as even before they got officially 'together' and were still just casual sex partners John got jealous if other strange men tried it on with (Name). That look on John's face often resulted in more rough sex than usual, and (Name) looked forward to their homecoming, as after two months apart, she had missed sex with John.

"Come on love, drink up. We're getting out of here." John declared, leaving half his beer.

The walk home from the pub was silent but the proxemics held a festering sexual tension. John's arm was around (Name)'s shoulders and his hand clutched her arm tight enough to be possessive but not painful. (Name) unlocked the door quickly and as soon as she had closed and locked it again, John's hands were all over her. They kicked off their shoes into a heap by the door as they kissed heavily, the man's hands roaming over (Name). Before they reached the bedroom of the apartment, John had gotten rid of his tie and a trail of (Name)'s clothes had been left behind as she was slammed into the bedroom wall.

"Bloody hell John, ease off a bit there." She muttered, moaning as John bit down on her neck.

"Be a good girl and hush for me love, I've waited a long time for this." He replied. "Wanking to your pictures just isn't the same."

(Name) laughed softly, doing her best despite the onslaught of kisses to rid John of his shirt.

"Mmm if you carry on like that, you'll have to do the same to me in real life. I get enough bruises from this bloody business without you carrying on." She said, gasping as John slipped his hand down her underwear.

"You can be in charge next time, I'm on a mission tonight to make you scream my name."

A shudder of pleasure coursed though (Name) at those words and she felt her knees buckle as John worked his magic. Crying out as she was brought closer and closer to the edge, (Name) grabbed John' naked torso as her whole body shook.

"Oh! John I'm gonna-"

"No you're not, pet. Let's get you all bare for me, lie down on the bed and spread those legs of yours - I want what's mine."

(Name) slid of her knickers and discarded her bra before lying on her back and opening her legs, baring herself to John who removed his pants and walked over to her. His eyes were focused on her, hungry with lust and desire as he approached her almost like a predator stalking its prey. He pried her legs open with his hands, squeezing slightly before lining himself up and entering her.

"Oh my God!" She cried, back arching.

"That's it love, just relax."

John let go of her thighs, trusting them to stay open for him and he grabbed her hair into a handle in one hand and gripped her thigh tightly with the other. He got into a rhythm and before long, (Name) was writhing and bucking wildly. She closed her legs slightly by accident and John brought the hand holding her hip down hard on her right thigh. The sensation triggered (Name)'s scream of John's name, and half triumphantly John groaned hers in return.

(Name) lay still, feeling John lie down beside her. He kissed her shoulder and wiped her hair from her sweaty forehead.

"I've missed you, love."

"I love you too, you big softie."

(Name) knew what John meant, and she knew that he couldn't say those three little words due to his turbulent past but the look in his eyes and the tone of voice conveyed what he really meant.

Here, they were both home in one another and safe to fight another day.

[warmbeebosoftbeebo]

Truth or Dare? 1/3 probably

much of the details about him in this fic is from things b has said in interviews, on periscope, twitch, twitter... see if you can guess what is true vs details/things i made up. other things, like most of his friends being girls (at least as a kid and teen) i don't think he's ever stated outright but i consider so damn obvious as you learn about him eg the bullying, his best friend in 8th grade was a girl. hopefully, all the things i remember him saying he's actually said and i didn't dream it/imagine it haha. also i love this fic so fucking much if i may say so. one of my faves, to be a braggart. in this universe, he never got introduced to spence or ryan, hence no mentions of them or panic! and him going off to arizona for cosmetology

tag list @greatheromuffinpalace @paypoulterer1 @anyh0w @anobsessioncalled @panicsinning @queerbrendon @prettyoddfiction @iwriteficsnottragediesladies @uriellybrendon @pageoftheclouds @brendonuriesbubblyass @ier0-must-die @itriedallthenamesiwantedaretaken @xfoxtalynx @spacesams00 @satanspuppet-x @1-800-hallelujah @ryrostan @tacobelltylerr @urie-dreams [just message me to be added or taken off the tag list]

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You're watching Aladdin with Brendon, after Alice in Wonderland but before Bambi because you don't want to wind up crying yet. He's totally like Flower and Bambi. Loves flowers, flirty and doe-eyed, for starters. He's an Aladdin too, and is singing along with you as you're cuddled up on your bed with him, him absentmindedly playing with, brushing your hair. He stopped styling it a while ago, but you love having your hair played with, scalp massaged, neck too, as much as he does... Even that has arousal spreading, tickling over you.

You don't have class tomorrow, but he has a cosmetology one in the morning. He's still excited about not having someone telling him to get to bed though, and you're too relaxed, and uh... you like how you feel around him too much, how simple things, touches kind of turn you on, to suggest he get to sleep or leave your room. Besides, your roommate went home for the weekend. And these blankets and pajamas are comfy. You wind up getting into A Whole New World though: dramatic actions and singing, batting lashes at each other, giggling, pretending the bed is a magic carpet like the dorks you two are...

You offer your lap for his head to get pets in once the song ends... You love touching his hair. Watching his lashes, eyes, lips in the television light. Hearing his breathing deepening, his sighs, a couple mmms when you stroke the nape of his neck, tug his hair, scritch his scalp. You've only known him a couple months, but... whoo boy. Too bad he's gayer than the day is long. And kind of has a boyfriend from his program, George. Well, a friend with benefits.

“Truth or dare, B?” you ask when the movie ends, but neither of you move.

“'M sleepy from all those pets, y/n, so for once, I'm going with truth.”

“Were you like this as a kid? Was it musicals and wanting to do cosmetology and stuff back then too? Like not being... being... different. From how boys were supposed to be.”

He chuckles. “Pretty much. Did skateboarding for years, and some soccer, but that was pretty much the extent of the manly shit. Well, the heavy metal too. And lots of people did pot. But mostly the kind of things people thought boys shouldn't do. Most of my friends were girls. Still are. Liked making people laugh, entertaining them. Gymnastics, dance; just messing around not pro. Did sets for the drama kids in high school. I fit in with some guys, mostly chill stoner or art types, guys who weren't straight, but not many. Sometimes I had to fake it to get by with guys, if it even worked. But mostly stuff like the dress up box.”

“What'd you dress up as?”

“Different musical roles, like Maria and Cosette, Jean Valjean. I remember being about five and wrapping curtains around myself like a dress and singing Sound of Music. Cheerleader with the miniskirt and all from my older sister Kara. Uh... pirate, cowboy, or cowgirl. Elvis, Carly Simon, Gwen. Wanted to sound like her so bad. Beyonce. David Bowie in Labyrinth, without a proper wig though. And a few of the personas he had different eras too. Jareth was mixed up in a crush on him. Like I wasn't sure how much I wanted to play that role versus liked David... At twelve, with Jessica Alba, that was a lot clearer. Make up too, some wigs. Lots of my mom's clothes. I'm sure you can tell on that last one.” He still wears women's jeans now. And hoodies, shirts, a couple pairs of sneakers...

“Oh, a weird flower boy version of Rambo,” he laughs. “Like the headband, but my mom's blouse and jeans, a bouquet of flowers, heels, dad's sunglasses... Still have a picture of that one. And we have lots of home movies of stuff. Me being a lounge singer with a feather boa and gold dress... seducing my mom. Oh, shit, can't believe I just admitted that aloud. Anyway, there was firefighter, seamstress, servant, scuba diver, vet... Vampire, fairy, witch. Playing a mom or sister in plays, like sometimes one of my sisters would be the dad, I'd be the mom, or we'd be three sisters. Or they'd be the mom and dad and I'd be their baby. I remember one where I was pregnant—pillow and doll baby, haha—and Kyla was the pirate doctor helping me deliver on the ship. Or the damsel in distress being rescued by them. Or kidnapped by them. Or we had to save our mom, the queen, from a dragon or evil king.”

They were imaginative too! You're picturing them, little Brendon in these outfits, roles. So cute, and silly, and did you say cute? He must've been adorable, playful and an entertainer back then, too. He's done an open mic a few times and sings and plays at parties with friends. You've seen him do it last Saturday, nervous but eager to sing and play guitar, or keyboard. He said that music was his favourite hobby, that he loves doing it, especially for people, but you had no idea how deep it went.

“Me in my sister's gymnastic leotard, but over my shorts because she didn't want it so close to my crotch.”

The crotch part makes you think of it: if he wears... uh, panties too? The thought makes you flush and feel embarrassed. You haven't seen him in a dress or skirt either, but he used to wear those. You wonder if he still does and you just haven't seen it. You think they'd suit him for some reason. The lavender hoodie, the pink sneakers, plus a miniskirt? Denim, or black. God, you bet that he'd look even better, draw you to him more.

“Wish we had dress up stuff to play with here, B. Bet it was fun. And I bet you looked so cute.”

He gets up, but it's to turn on the lamp; the tv had gone dark. He bats his lashes. “Oh, I did.”

You both laugh as you throw a pillow at him. “Goofball. Don't ever let me tell you you still look cute, then. And that I actually would want to see you with a dress up box.”

“Truth or dare?” he asks. You'd forgotten how this started.

“Truth?” Neither is a safe bet, so you just go with what he went with to even it out.

“Would you want to see me dressed up? Like... in things here... of yours?”

Your breath catches. Are you that obvious? You nod, asking “Truth or dare?”

He grins. “Whattaya think, y/n? Dare.”

“M-maybe... uh... a skirt? On you, I mean?”

“That can be arranged.” He practically bounces over to your closet, sorts through, deciding on a long soft blue and lilac hippieish flowery one that goes to your ankles, a purple plaid one that comes to your knees but would be two to three inches shorter on him, and your denim one that's so short it would be a mini on him. You wear it with black tights or other pants it's so short. Really, he picked most of them; you only have two others. He holds them out one by one, then places them over his hips: “Which one would fit me best?”

You get flustered, because you want to see the denim one most, but worry it would be too short for him. The plaid one? It gives “naughty schoolgirl” vibes to boys and men, older pervs included, so you don't wear it much, even though it reminds you of a newly formed coven of witches stuck at a Catholic school for some reason (you blame The Craft). You wonder what'd look like on him. You bet he's worn skirt school uniforms before, and that he'd get cheesy with it, calling you Miss and asking hammily but flirtatiously about extra credit, asking you to teach him, maybe bending over... which not going to lie, you do want if it got sexily funny, but you know it couldn't mean anything.

He grins. "Warning ya, my legs are really hairy, so you might wanna go with the longest one. What can I say, I've got Jewish legs."

You snort. "Guess I've got Jewish legs too: my hair is a light brown, but there's lots of it below my knees. I stopped shaving now that it's November." You can't help wondering if he's dressed up for Hallowe'en in a girl's costume, or in drag, and what he'd look like; even some guys who are kind of sexist and homophobic do that for Hallowe'en, so it wouldn't be out of the ordinary even outside of the gay bar you and he were let into a few times, because George knew the bouncer. Both of your first one, bar or gay bar.

"Oh, I bet I've got more than you," he jokes, and slides his pant leg up a bit, doing a "banananana" strip tease music thing, shaking his leg, making you both giggle.

"Go with the shortest one, B. Bet you'd look super sexy," you reply, hammily winking.

"No peeking!" he admonishes teasingly, hiding behind your closet door, but he pops his booty out and sways it before hiding again. His jeans quickly get flung towards you to him laughing, "Hey, you ever see that British film The Full Monty?"

"It's kinda tight on my ass, but loose on my hips. What can I say? I bring the booty. But your hips are more womanly than mine, alas," he sighs dramatically. “And your thighs are damn. Um. At least it covers my underwear. Pretty much.” He peeks out, excited. "Ready? I just wanna make sure you're prepared for my hairy ass legs, oh and my stunningly gorgeous ass."

"Pshaw, I know that that booty brings all the boys to your yard, you tramp." He's really a tease at that bar. Both guys his age and kind of older, but only one creep. He always drinks for free, gets you drinks too, and you alternately keep close and watch from afar and let him do his thing with said boys. He only talks with most, often dances, but if he likes the guy, the dancing goes beyond pg territory, kissing too, and he even went home with one of them.

[caroline18mars]

A Man On Fire - Chapter 54

“How many more shows here in Italy? Because I keep eating and eating and eating, it's been so long since I had food as decent and as tasty as this”, she pushed another piece of bread in her mouth with a sigh “and if I keep at it, I'm well on my way to gaining a whole lot of weight”. Jared took another mouthful of his granola and shrugged “so? Even more woman for me to handle, mmm love it” with a grin, earning himself a kick under the table, “not funny! Oyyy I'm stuffed” she leaned back in her chair holding her hands on her stomach. “Again? I remember you saying that a couple of times as well last night” he flashed her a dirty grin, “can we talk about anything else than sex for a minute?” she rolled her eyes in mock-drama. “Nope” he leaned back, happily chewing “ok, ok, let's talk about your paintings, where will the magic happen? Do you want me to book a seperate hotelroom where you can paint? Or do you want to work at the venue? I guess you don't want to be moving them from our bedroom to another hotelroom to a venue, there'll be enough damage moving them from city to city or even overseas as it is” he leaned in again sipping his coffee. “Damage? Oh darling, Leonardo Da Vinci crossed the Alpes with Mona Lisa rolled up in a bag hanging from a donkey when he moved to France to be with his lover, I'm sure my paintings will survive” she leaned in to him too and tapped his nose with her finger. “Really?” he was genuinely impressed, “really, so one step to the left or right too far and the most expensive, most famous painting in the world would have been no more, sometimes you've gotta take a risk you know?” she nodded. He rested his hand against his cheek “promise me one thing? If we get to Florence tomorrow, you show me around town? Show me Da Vinci and Michelangelo and you tell me everything you know about them, I didn't get nearly enough art history classes as I should have wanted, I love it, and hearing you talk about these anecdotes it's like watching a documentary, which leads me to the next brilliant idea, making an art history docu your style?” he rattled, getting lost in the dream already. “Hold it, wooahh, back up back up, Jared, hun, Jay?” she shook her head as he just kept spewing ideas and grabbed his hand “just let me paint, ok? Besides the fact that absolutely nobody would be interested in the topic, there's no way I want to be in front of a camera, I don't have the need to be in the limelight, I'm quite happy in the shadows” he scrunched his nose, not happy with the answer but knowing full well this was not a woman whose arm could easily be twisted “but you'll still show me around Florence?”, oh silly man you're absolutely adorable “of course I'll take you around Florence, just put on your walking shoes and don't you dare start moping when you get fed up with all the musea we're gonna do”. Harper leaned in to him, pushing a little kiss on the tip of his nose “and if you're a really good boy, I promise I'll buy you an icecream, ok?”, her giggle was contagious “and are you gonna spank me if I'm a bad boy?” to which she encouragingly wiggled her eyebrows.

Strolling through the park on their way back to the hotel, duty called for Jay in about an hour, he held her hand tighter than he ever had, squeezing, letting go, squeezing again, oh yes this was an internal convo with himself “Come to a conclusion yet? I hope so because I think I've already felt a bone snap in my hand”. What? His head whizzed to look at her “what?” he held up her hand to check the damage done, “wanna talk about it?” she raised her eyebrows when she looked into his eyes “just goes to show how dangerous your thoughts really are”. Something was brewing, that much was clear if him biting his lip and the unintentional harder squeezing of her hand was anything to go by, oohhh trouble, definitely trouble, she almost braced for his reaction “it's just..”.  It's just what, Jared? I'm so not ready for whatever this is, “you're scaring me now, ok so what is it? You changed your mind and you want to end it after all? For fuck's sakes Jay” she babbled, getting more anxious by the second. His head shot up again and he took her face between her hands to calm her down “No! That's not it, I didn't change my mind..it's not about us, I just have bad news” his eyes became darker again “I was thinking about how to tell you this, but I guess there's just no right way..Shayla..she's coming back on the road with us” he blurted it out and watched her face go instantly pale like someone had punched her in the stomach. “You're joking, right?” she whispered, ugh why did she feel like the ground was gonna dissapear from underneath her feet? “Jay?” her eyes pierced his, “it was Shannon's idea, there was nothing I can do, I'm so sorry babe” dissapointment, hurt, it was all there in those beautiful brown eyes. “What's next? I mean Sean's back, now Shayla, within a month or so you're probably gonna tell me that Val's part of the gang again too. It just doesn't matter what they do, does it? And I don't matter, and neither does everything they did to me, because I'm temporary, right?” she blurted it all out, the frustration, the pain, just when she thought they could finally get back to being a normal couple, there was always a spanner being thrown in the works.

“Harper, babe? No stop” he followed her as she started walking again “you're not temporary, ok?” and caught up with her “listen to me” he stopped her by jumping in front of her and grabbing her hands “Shannon tried to do good, we really need an assistant and she knows the business, ok? And Val isn't coming back ever, you have to believe me! I swear I don't want this to come between us, you're all that matters to me, not Shayla, not Val, not Sean, I don't care about them, I only care for you, I love you”. Coco took a deep breath and looked at him “I love you too..in my heart I know where I want us to be..but it's always one thing after the other, I just want to have some peace and quiet” she sighed, grabbing his hand “let's just walk back to the hotel, if anything those three fuckers can be an inspiration for a painting and I definitely need a word with Shannon”. So relieved she wasn't angry, he pulled her against him “fuck them all, this is about us not about them” and kissed her lips, god that man's kisses were pure gold, reassuring, firm, hot, tender and demanding at the same time, she wanted a real life with him, settle down and have millions of babies with him..whoaaaa hold on a minute, getting way ahead here, the only thing she wanted right now was a normal, quiet life together, 'quiet' as in out of the spotlights, not like the soap everyone was expecting it to be.

They took their time to get back to the hotel, talking, connecting, “where would you like to have dinner?” he pushed a kiss in her hair as they turned the street of their hotel, glued to each other. “Anywhere is fine really, as long as it is just you and me” she snuck her hand into the back of his pants, just above the curve of his butt “I think this is my favorite part on your body” she squeezed his warm skin there. “Finally someone who doesn't want me entirely for my massive..” he paused for effect, grinning from ear to ear, “that too of course, but in broad daylight I prefer this bit” she smiled at him but it was Shannon who burst their bubble. “Hey beautiful, and I don't mean you bro” he just skipped down the steps and up to them, but when he wanted to plant a kiss on Harper's cheek she pulled back “that's a little hypocrite, don't you think?” she hissed. Shannon looked at Jay with a panic in his eyes, but he just shrugged to show him that this was none of his business, “why don't you and I take this inside?” she let go of Jared and walked up the steps to the entrance. “Is there something you need to tell me, Shannon, or is this your way of showing me how much you really hate me?” she plopped down on one of the couches in the lobby and zipped open her jacket. “Harper..I..” Shannon was crumbling in front of her eyes, he looked like a little boy that was being put in his place “so Jared told you?” he sighed while his brother came walking in as well and sat down next to her. “Of course he did, did he have to wait until she finally showed up here and you'd make it a nasty surprise? You must really hate me” there it was again, her thinking he hated her, “Coco, I don't hate you, really I don't and it pains me that you think I do, we're in a bit of a pickle here..I mean we really need someone to take over all those tasks we don't have time for and Shayla seemed like the best option”. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat when the waiter brought the coffees Jared had ordered, “both Jared and I know what they've done to you so we've decided to put a special clause in their contract: if they give you even the slightest bit of trouble, they're out”. Coco took her cup and leaned back in her seat, her eyes locking with Jared's for a moment, god he was gorgeous, the way he sat there in that beautiful diffuse light, his cheeks rosy from the cold morning walk, he did need a shave though..mind wandering again, take care of the older Leto first. “It's your show and I do realize that I'm a guest on this tour as well so I'm not the one to interfere but I have to admit it shook me” she sipped her coffee, warming her hands on the cup while she glared at Shannon. “I get that but I hope you can forgive me?” Shannon gave her a careful smile “Nope, not just yet anyway” she shook her head and focused back on her coffee.

”I think you're the only one who can get under Shannon's skin” Jared smiled, sipping his tea “look at him, he's completely shook up”, Harper put her cup back down and nervously ran her hand through her hair “I didn't mean to, I don't want him to think I'm an egotistical bitch who thinks this is all about her because I don't, maybe I should go and apologize..”. Jared pulled her closer and kissed the side of her head “Oh no, you don't! Let him stew for a bit, let it sink in..” while his brother shuffled back over to the lounge “we have to go..uhm..Harper, wanna come along?”. Harper grabbed her bag “no, I'm gonna try out all those beautiful colors, you know..just keeping sane” and stood up, Jared pulled her against him and whispered “you sure? I don't want to miss you”. Her finger ran over his leather jacket “I'm sure, I take it she'll be landing shortly? And I don't want to be confronted with her just yet..I'll miss you too, but at least we'll be doing something we both love to do” why did this beautiful freak have to be so damn sexy? He was talking just now about getting under someone's skin, but damn he, his name, his whole being was already tattooed a million times under her skin. “Ok..I love you, remember that” he whispered, unable to leave her lips alone, “too mushy, Leto, too damn mushy” she acted all tough, but her inner voice wanted to scream that she loved him too, more than he could ever imagine, but to be that vulnerable? Oh no, not in a million years, she had been too vulnerable in the past and look where it got her, nope, she was a tough cookie and she could resist anything. Something as normal and simple as watching him leave almost became unbearable, this had to stop, she hated being so dependent, not being, feeling, definitely feeling, there was a difference! The van that took him away hadn't even turned the corner or her phone bleeped

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: Not my first but definitely my last!

Babe,

Just stop me from popping the question, because I'm about to,  put my feet back on the ground because right now I don't see any reason why I shouldn't just ask you to marry me.

My love for you is scaring me

Loveyouloveyouloveyou

Your fool Jay

Her heart hammered in her chest, whatwhatwhatwhat? She read it again, he actually did ask..wait no, get it together De Robiano

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: Not my first but definitely my last

Oy Leto,

Did you drink paddo-tea? I'm just gonna ignore this because you're probably gonna eat those words by tonight, why? If you're asking me to stop you from asking, then I'm stopping you here and now! Breathe! Think about how impulse marriages don't work in 95% of the time, feeling better? Good!

That being said, I love you too, very much, you adorable fool of mine

Coco

Hitting the 'send' button, her heart sank, there was no turning back anymore, did she ever think or want to get married? God no, but with him? Absolutely! Ah well, too late now, what are you thinking, they had known each other a couple of weeks, no ok, done, ridiculous idea!..or not?..paint Coco, just paint!

[4-the-chaotic-one]

Misunderstandings

A little fic written with @sunshine-the-boi​ playing Aziraphale, me playing Crowley. It is the early 1600s:

Aziraphale had called him to meet up at a new restaurant in the south of England. They had boasted works that included the new introduction of pineapples and bananas, leading to quite a few breakthroughs in the dessert department. Aziraphale sat at a table, adjusting his clothes minutely, and settled in to wait for both his meal and his evening companion.

Unfortunately, the streets of London were packed, and it was pouring. Getting a last minute carriage ride was a hassle, and it would still be slow. Horses, obviously, were out of the question. Walking was, truly, the only option.

Crowley walked into the restaurant decidedly late, though miraculously dry. Peering around the dinning area through small dark glasses, his lip twitched at the corner. Immediately, he swaggered to the table for two, currently occupied by one.

Sliding into the seat, leaning forward to rest elbows on the table, he looked the angel over. “Nice place.”

Aziraphale was already halfway through his first treat when the demon arrived, something made entirely of cream, dough, and bananas. The angel's brows shot up and his face broke out into a full fledged smile, "Oh, Crowley, hello. So good to see you." He almost spoke like he hadn't expected him, but a moment later he frowned, "You're quite late."

“Eh, had to walk,” Crowley leans back, draping his arms over the back of the chair, flagging a waiter. Ordering wine—white—for the both of them, he pantomimes looking about the room leisurely. His head turns, but behind the dark lenses, his eyes never leave the angel.

“So, any....plans? In the next few days?” He raises a brow at the angel, making his words sound nonchalant to the point of dramatic.

Aziraphale gives him a smile that says ‘You know what I called you here for’ and digs into the rest of his dessert with his fork, a new, wonderful thing, "Well, I'm supposed to head up to Rome this weekend. A few blessings here, a miracle there." He takes a bite and chews through it slowly with a satisfied smile before continuing, "You?"

“Ah, well,” Crowley shrugs, receiving his drink and taking a sip before gently swirling the liquid in the glass, “I’m also meant to go to Rome. Tempt some royalty, nothing taxing.”

Taking another sip, he eyed the angel over his glasses, waiting. Crowley knew the rules. If he called the meeting, he was expected to convince and pester. When the Angel asked to meet, he was not to mention it. Not first.

Aziraphale gave him a hum and a nodded as he lifted his glass to take a drink as well, just a small sip before going back to his food, "Would you like a bite of this? I know you don't eat often but it is quite good. Lovely aroma as well."

“Why not?” Crowley snatched a fork, stabbing the smallest morsel from Aziraphale’s plate. Taking the bite, he looked thoughtful a moment before nodding.

The food doesn’t matter. He would agree anyway. It was part of the game. Of course, for all the unspoken rules Aziraphale had put forth—there were aspects the angel was entirely unaware of.

Such as this silly waiting game. Aziraphale thought himself to be teasing the demon, torturing him with dragging the meal out. Knowing they both knew the business, but not bringing it up until the end.

The joke was on him. Crowley could sit and talk with the angel, watching him eat, for eternity. Each and every time he found their time at an end, forced to say goodbye, he felt a slight panic. A part of him scrambling to find a reason—any reason—to prolong the encounter.

“Not bad.” The demon nods upon swallowing. Taking a sip of his wine he grinned. “Wine’s better.” Let Aziraphale procrastinate the night away.

Aziraphale smiled again, it bunches the chub in his cheeks and crinkles his eyes, waving down the waiter once more to order whatever other new things they had. The man knew the angel by name, as they always did, and was eager to comply.

"The wine is very good, isn't it? You know, it comes from a vineyard in Italy, this place's in particular. I think we've been actually. It’s familiar, isn't it?"

“Mmm,” Crowley took another sip. “Yess. 1632, we were way on our back from Galileo announcing his observation of the ‘fixed star’.”

This had, of course, entertained the demon to no end, as the ‘star’ was in fact the planet Neptune. Not that it had been named, as such, yet—but he was well aware of it. As he was every celestial body.

Given the level of awe and excitement Aziraphale had been in, he rather doubted the angel was as such aware. Crowley had found himself unable to spoil the angel’s fun, and had never mentioned the planet. “They had goats.”

The angel's eyes lit up and he nodded quickly, "You're right! Extraordinary, wasn't it?" He thanked the waiter for his new dish and happily began to examine it, "The humans are doing such marvelous things, now. Have you seen the art?"

Eyeing the new plate, Crowley vaguely wondered how many the angel had eaten before he arrived. The thought made him smile fondly.

“Oh yes,” He nodded, thoughts jerking back to the conversation. “Love the Baroque style. Very contrasting.”

The demon had actually become so infatuated with the style, he had considered asking the angel to model with him for one. Asking the painter, in fully artistic fashion of course, to portray them as angel and demon. He rather thought the dramatic contrast in the paintings would fit perfectly.

However, daydreaming about such a thing, and actually asking existed on two entirely different levels.

The angel took a bite of his new dish and gave a great sigh, eyes closing and body relaxing as he mulled over the flavors in his mouth, savoring each second of it.

Once the moment had passed, he finally spoke again, "The things they do with buildings these days. Have you seen the Luxembourg Palace? It’s divine, really."

Crowley was transfixed. The demon really could watch Aziraphale eat for eternity. He was quite certain he had never taken as much pleasure in anything as the angel did eating. Well, except perhaps watching the angel.

So involved in observation, was he, that when his companion spoke once more, he looked up blankly. It took a moment for his mind to readjust and comprehend what had been asked. Or even, that he had been asked a question.

“Luxembourg. Yes. Lovely cornices,” He nodded, finally able to pull up a memory of the place, “Lovely pond. Lots of ducks.”

A soft laugh passed the air between them and Aziraphale dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, "You love ducks. Why do you love ducks so much? Of course they're beautiful creatures you... seem drawn to them."

Pulling a somewhat confused and thoughtful face, Crowley cocked his head. “Dunno.” He looked at the angel with a shrug. “Didn’t know I had any particular inclination towards them.”

The demon was not lying. It was only at this point, upon Aziraphale asking such a pointed question, did he realize how often he did refer to ducks. There was nothing conscious involved in the act, it simply happened.

Now that he was thinking about it, Crowley honestly could not think of a single exceptional or interesting thing about ducks. They were simply, ducks.

Aziraphale smiled in a small and knowing way, he didn't honestly believe Crowley had any kind of affinity for the animals, they just always seemed to be what popped into his mind when the demon was nervous .

He finished off the last bit on his plate and folded his hands in his lap, "Oh that was lovely. We must come back again sometime." He sat for a second, fingers fidgeting as he debated with himself over whether he'd stalled long enough or not, "Though... I did have another reason for asking you here."

Thankful the angel let the whole ‘duck’ thing go, Crowley relaxed. Refilling his wine, he watched the angel finish off the plate. He was immediately disappointed by the finality of it. He smiled anyway, nodding, because Aziraphale was happy. And he wanted to come back. “Of course.”

Watching the angel fidget, he was torn between the mild panic of knowing the evening was quickly drawing to a close, and adoration at the nervous habit. “Oh?” He raised his brows in mock surprise, finishing off his second glass of wine.

The angel sucked his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and was torn in his own way by the morality. It was one thing when Crowley would ask this of him, but it was supposed to be. He was a demon. He took shortcuts and did bad things. Aziraphale was supposed to be holy, pure. But here he was trying to shirk responsibilities in favor of his own wants.

Part of him briefly wondered if a bit of it wasn't just him wanting an excuse to see the demon, but he shut it down rather quickly.

"Would be a shame... if we both had to go all the way to Rome..."

“Mmm, indeed,” Crowley agreed immediately. Back to the script. Aziraphale had brought it up, the demon would gladly run with it.

“Such a hassle, what with the ferry, and the war going on. Nasty business, that. Far more sensical for just one of us to go, do both. The Arrangement.” He grinned at the angel as his glass was refilled.

Aziraphale avoided eye contact, gazing down at his empty plates before tilting his head to look at him again, knowing if he doesn't go through with this now, he probably won't at all, "I'll toss you for it."

Crowley opened his hand, revealing a coin. It was not sleight of hand, but proper magic. The effect is the same—or better, as it were. He held it up between two fingers, showing both sides of the coin.

“Call it.” He flipped the coin high in the air, aimed to land in the center of the table.

Aziraphale gave a slight roll of the eyes, knowing for sure at the display he's thinking he's done "proper magic" as opposed to what the angel indulged in.

Nevertheless, he eyed the coin as it travels through the air, calling out a quick "Heads" and waiting for the verdict.

A soft plink, as the coin landed on the clothed table. Leaning forward a hair, Crowley grinned, flopping back. “Tails, you’re going to Rome.”

While he was rather relieved at not having to travel, a small part of him also worried about the angel traveling through a war zone. An even smaller part of him felt the smallest bit guilty at cheating. Never let a demon flip a coin.

“Just play the royal consort—his wife really—tell him some negative things, question himself, and you’re all done. Nothing big, in and out in a pinch.” He grinned toothily at the angel.

The angel huffed but throws him a look as he thought it over, "That isn't so bad, I suppose. Rome has lovely food. Alright fine. I'll go to Rome." He adjusted the napkin in his lap and sat for a moment, thinking about asking for more to nibble on, "Now that you're free, whatever shall you do?"

Satisfied that the angel had agreed—though there was really no chance he would not , Crowley considered the question.

“Hmmm,” He mused, trying to find something appropriate to say. Sleeping, and perusing first-editions of a particular variety simply would not do.

“Perhaps I’ll take up art.” The demon immediately regretted this. This was the kind of thing that could be checked up on. Asked about later. Proof requested in a casual manner. Now he had to at least attempt art.

Aziraphale immediately interested, smiled widely and laid his cheek against his hand, "Oh wouldn't that be lovely. You really are the creative sort, Crowley. I'm sure you would do wonderful in the field. I would love to see what could do." He smirked a little, knowing the demon was already mentally backpedalling, "What will you do? Paintings? Sculpture?"

"Ah, yeah," Crowley forced a smile, trying to remain relaxed. "Uhm, painting, I think." That couldn't be too hard, could it? The demon shifted in his seat uncomfortably, looking anywhere but at the angel. “We'll, ah, see how it goes."

If he were to look at Aziraphale, a shit eating grin would be all that greets him. But the angel took pity in him and says, "Well, I'm sure not matter what you, it will be lovely." And left it at that.

He decided, perhaps, if he was to head over to Rome soonish, he should go, and sighed softly, scooting away from the table, "I suppose I'll be off then." He fixed Crowley with a stare and his bottom lip stuck out the slightest bit, "You wouldn't mind... getting this for me, would you, my dear?"

Crowley continued to avoid looking at the angel until he began to stand. At which point he suddenly became fixated on Aziraphale. "Of course," He stood quickly, forcing a smile, "Of course."

As was always the case, the demon suddenly found himself in the usual state of panic when the angel was going to leave. There had to be some way to extend the evening. But there was not. Aziraphale would need to leave the city rather soon. There was nothing Crowley could do.

He had wanted this, hadn't he?

"Right then," He straightened his jacket, "Have fun in Rome." Have a safe trip. Don't do anything stupid. Please, Angel, be careful.

Aziraphale stopped short a little, a sour taste in his mouth at the goodbye spoiling his meal somewhat. But he recovered with a more genuine smile and lays a hand on Crowley's shoulder, "I'll be sure to bring you back something nice. We can meet up again for lunch when I come back." I'll be fine and will see you again soon.

"Yes, of course," Crowley nodded, forcing himself not to simply stare at the hand on his shoulder. Instead he stared intensely at the angel. "Send me a message when you return." I'll be waiting. If you take too long, I'm coming for you. Please be safe.

With their stumbling attempts at subtext finished, Aziraphale nodded once to him and made his way out of the restaurant, leaving Crowley with the bill, in his own way of being passive aggressive with no real anger being had.

———————————————————————————————

Crowley received word from the angel almost too much time later, a message listing a time and place and urging him explicitly to be on time this occasion.

Time had passed agonizingly slowly. Unfortunately traveling took a great deal of time. No matter how simple the miracles and tempting were--how short a time--the simple travel back and forth were not things to be taken lightly. That being said, the demon had plenty to occupy him during this time.

It turned out, art was actually something the demon was good at. Though his preference, miracling a fully finished painting was the simplest thing. He certainly had the imagination for it--however, Aziraphale would know the difference. Of that he had no doubt. Instead, he put the time in, and the effort.

Unfortunately, a great many of his finished works were things he could never show to the angel. As such, he was scrambling to finish something angel appropriate when he received the message.

His angel was home. Grinning wildly, he finished the last few strokes of the painting and pulled it off the easel. It was suddenly perfectly dry and set when he threw a cloth over it, putting it under his arm as he headed out the door.

The note had said to meet at another restaurant, one of the angel's old favorites. Apparently, he was feeling a bit homesick. Crowley found himself not only arriving on time, but a bit early. Early enough, the angel was not there. Getting a table under the name Aziraphale, he ordered some wine, painting propped against the table, and waited.

In a bit if a shocking move, Aziraphale was actually the slightest bit late. When he finally did arrive, as much as he pretended everything was normal, Crowley could instantly spot something was off .

The angel found their table rather quickly and settled down into his seat, reaching a little too quickly for the wine already set out, "Hello, my dear boy. How have you been?"

"Fine." Crowley answered the question shortly, brows furrowed as he visually inspected the angel. Something was definitely off, but he could not quite put his finger on it. For a moment, he reached across the table, as if he were reaching out toward Aziraphale, but he stopped short.

"What happened?" He did not bother to beat around the bush. The demon was concerned, and did not bother to hide it. This entire time he had been on the edge of his seat, ready to run off to Rome at a moment's notice.

Aziraphale stopped and looked at the outstretched hand. A long, strange moment passed between the two of them as neither dared to move. Finally, the angel broke the silence, staring at the table, "Nothing. It’s nothing. I'-" he huffed a little to cut himself off and returned his gaze to Crowley, faced lined with worry, "Consort. You said "consort", correct?"

Frowning deeper, Crowley slowly, casually pulled his hand back, leaving it resting on the table. "Yes, consort, that's right. Was there trouble?" Do I need to hurt someone?

There was a wild look in the angel’s eyes and he took a shaky breath, leaning closer across the table to whisper in a bit of a hoarse voice, "Escort, Crowley. I was his escort."

Staring for a moment, the demon said nothing. He was frozen as one of the paintings he had spent so many hours on. Staring intently at the angel, unable to respond.

"Escort." It was not a question. It was a statement. Spoken with finality. Yet, there was still clearly some level of uncertainty discernible there. "An escort. You were. An escort."

The angel's face flushed so deeply, he could have been mistaken for a tomato. He immediately dropped his gaze, staring back at the table again, hands fidgeting nervously in his lap, "Yes. Escort. Not um.. not the same as a consort."

“Oh."

Crowley stared at the angel a long moment before looking away. "Right then." Clearing his throat he readjusted in his seat. "Well then. My bad, I guess. Very sorry." Panic babbling began to flow from his mouth, despite his best efforts. "Quite the shock, I imagine. Won't happen again, I assure you."

The arrival of the waiter was a wonderful point at which the demon could bite his tongue. Literally. Hard enough to bleed. So many conflicting emotions ran through him, Crowley had no idea what to say, or do. He was not even sure if Aziraphale was okay or not. Was he simply uncomfortable, or was there something more?

Crowley did not know, and it was rather quickly, driving him mad.

Aziraphale ordered quickly, already knowing what he was in the mood for before having sat down. At least the odd funk he was in hadn't upset his appetite any.

Once the waiter was gone he placed his hands on the table in front of him and took a deep steadying breath, “It's ok. Just..." He flushed anew and tried to look anywhere but at Crowley. It became evident he was more embarrassed than anything, "Perhaps... warn me next time."

Seeing the angel order food with confidence settled Crowley enough to regret having bitten his tongue. At least Aziraphale was still feeling well enough to have his order ready. Of course, the demon considered, it could be the end of the world and Aziraphale would still be thinking of what desert he wanted to try.

For perhaps the first time, Crowley actually saw the blush. Pieces began clicking together. There was a tugging at the corners of his mouth. He battled them down—mostly successful.

Taking a sip of wine, he held it in his mouth a moment, swirling the glass as he considered his response. “Well.  I’ll be sure to do that in the future.” The battle to keep a straight face continued. The demon was losing ground.

“In my defense, my orders were not particularly clear on this point, and as such I had no way of knowing.” Another sip of wine. The battle was going poorly.

“But come now, it wasn’t so bad, was it?” Crowley was in full retreat. The battle was lost.

At the last bit, Aziraphale rounded on him, eyes wide with what might be rage, but the full flush to his face put a bit of a damper on it. He hissed through his teeth, seeming more like demon than an angel in that particular moment, "Yes it was that bad, Crowley. Do you have any idea what I had to do?"

He broke eye contact again to stare at the table, fidgeting with his clothes as if he were suddenly naked.

At the look Aziraphale threw his way, the demon took a slow drink, hiding his grin in the wine. When he set the glass down it was empty, and his face passive. Dark lenses hd the amused glint in his eyes.

“Well, I have an idea,” Crowley argued calmly, “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done a temptation along those lines.” Waiting for his refill, fingers idly spinning the glass on the table, he studied the angel. Very interested in what his reaction to this would be.

The angel blustered for a moment, not able to really come up with anything to say immediately. When he finally got his mouth working again, he blinked slowly at him, ".... You tricked me then. Because you're a demon. You did this on purpose. To taint me."

Accepting his refilled glass, Crowley paused with it a few inches from his mouth to roll his eyes. A dramatic gesture that involved his entire head. “Oh, come off it, Angel. I did no such thing, and you know it.”

He took a drink, the set his glass down, leaning forward on the table. “If I were tricking you, or trying to taint you, I would do a much better job at it. Something subtler.”

"No of course not!" He shook his head feverishly and looked at his hands, not wanting to meet the demon's eyes, "You knew I wouldn't say no. You knew I would do this for you anyway, regardless of what I physically had to do."

When his food arrived, Aziraphale immediately shoved a bite in his mouth, as if trying to rid himself of a bad taste.

Frowning, Crowley leaned back, finding himself becoming mildly annoyed. Of course he understood that the angel had been outside of his comfort zone, but the demon truly had not realized what he was asking. As if he would ever want Aziraphale to go and do something like that with...

“Wouldn’t say no? Angel, you were the one that initiated the meeting. We flipped a coin. In what way is this me asking you to do something? Hmm?” He took another slow sip of wine, staring the angel down over the glass.

Of course, Crowley had cheated at the coin flip, but that was irrelevant to the argument. The argument was about intent, and that was all either non-existant, or the angel’s.

The look Aziraphale gave him could have burned the demon, "I didn't think I was going to have to have sex with somebody, Crowley." He went back to stuffing his mouth, body shivering at the apparent memory.

The reality of what had happened finally hit the demon. Aziraphale had had sex with someone. As if that were not bad enough, in some small way, it was Crowley’s fault. Setting the wine glass down, he was silent a moment, glaring at the table.

While he had been in London, struggling with oils, covering himself in paint, and thinking solely of Aziraphale—someone had been intimate with his angel. A sticky, dark ball began to grow in his gut.

“I’m sorry, Angel.”

Aziraphale continued to stare at the table for a long time, shooting him quick glances from the corner of his eye for a moment before heaving a great sigh. He knew Crowley wouldn't have done this on purpose. His companion was a demon, but even something like this was low for him. He took a long drink of his own wine and fully looked at the demon again, brows furrowed, "Its alright, Crowley. I know... I know it wasn't on purpose. I've just..." he cleared his throat, gaze returning to his food as he did something Crowley had never seen him do—he picks at it "Never done... that before..."

Crowley was idly turning the glass when Aziraphale spoke. Looking up, the sincerity in his voice only added to the beast growing inside the demon.

At the admission, there was a sharp sound, cracking through the restaurant. Like a punctuation to the statement. Crowley looked to the glass, the broken stem of a wine glass in his hand. The goblet clinked to the table and slowly rolled to the floor, as if in slow motion. Deep red wine seeping across the table, dribbling to the floor.

Before either could speak, or acknowledge the glass, attendants were rushing over with hurried apologies, scrambling to clean up the mess.

Aziraphale's mouth sealed shut at the sound, eyes wide and stunned as he stared at the demon. When the staff descend on them, he forced a smile, doing his best to calm them as they clean the glass. Due to the stain, the staff helps them move to a new table, something more secluded in the back, which does not go unnoticed by the angel. They're probably hoping to avoid a very open domestic.

When they finally got settled again, food and new drinks transferred to their table, Aziraphale fixed Crowley with a stare, "What was that?" His stomach churned. He had wanted the demon to know about what had happened, but never expected this.

When they moved to the new secluded table, Crowley did not sit down, instead hovering behind his chair. The cloth wrapped painting he had brought leaning once more against the table.

As the attendants had fussed, and the two had moved, he had seemed distracted. Even once they were left alone, the demon seemed far away.

“Hm?” Crowley looked at the angel. “Nothing. Sorry.” He apologized flippantly. Stepping up, he grabbed the edge of the canvas.

“This is for you.” He set it down closer to the angel. “My apologies, I’m afraid I have some things that I need to take care of. Can’t wait. Leave the bill on my tab.” The demon left without waiting for a response. Or even acknowledgement.

Something in the angel's chest cleaved in half, "No, Crowle-" but he was gone before Aziraphale could force his words out. He sat there, quietly, and stared at the food he, for the first time, was no longer hungry for, and blinked away the burning sensation in his eyes.

Finally, he lifted the painting from the floor, beyond stunned Crowley even bothered with the whole art thing. With the cover gone, he examinesdthe piece, eyeing the detail of it, and tears spilled hotly over his cheeks, "Oh, Crowley…"

The angel held a beautifully done piece showing a small pond filled with a variety of ducks. It was done in the Baroque style.

—————————————————————————————————————-

Just over a month passed with no sign of the demon anywhere in London. Or England, for that matter. It seemed that none of his affairs had been handled, and the only thing that kept the police from classifying him as a missing person was a hastily scrawled note.

A message arrived for Aziraphale, written in the demon’s hand:

Lunier’s. 7 o’clock. Table Reserved.

When the angel arrived at the restaurant, for possibly the first time in history of their dinners, there was actually a table reserved. It was in the back with a large Juliette Balcony beside the table. Windows open, curtains pulled back, looking over the Thames.

Crowley was seated there, impeccably dressed, lounging in his seat, staring out the window.

Aziraphale was beyond impressed by the invitation and dressed in his best for the occasion. Seeing the demon again for the first time in awhile caused the tension to leech from his shoulders. It was curious to him, before he could have gone decades without seeing him, but as of late, a month with no sign had him on edge.

He settled into the seat across from him and breathed in the air through the window, taking in the view, "You really had me worried, you know." He did not look at the demon, embarrassed by his own words, "I was a bit afraid I'd never see you again."

Looking up as the angel arrived, Crowley smiled softly, taking in the clearly well-thought-out attire. He was glad to see it, he had actually gone and put effort into this dinner.

Before he can answer, the waiter appears, setting a bottle on the table, and a large plate filled with samples of various decadent deserts before the angel.

When they were gone, Crowley leaned forward, filling both their glasses with an aromatic white wine. “Sorry ‘bout that. It was a bit urgent, had to go across the channel. How have you been?”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise at the spread, a smile slowly growing on his face as he closed his eyes and breathed in the aroma, "Oh Crowley you really shouldn't have." He transferred one treat to the plate in front of him and looked up to meet Crowley’s eyes, decidedly less scandalized than he was the last time they met, "Perfectly well. Book collection is really starting to come along. I dare say I might open a shop soon." He chuckled softly.

Leaning back, the demon allowed himself to smile appreciatively as Aziraphale lit up at the meal. He really had gone out of his way, but it was more than worth it.

“A book shop? That’s a brilliant idea,” he commended, gesturing with his wine glass. “Though, if I’m not mistaken, would that not involve you actually selling books?”

Aziraphale stopped and fixed him with a look, "Well, I can scarcely open a library. That would be so much worse. Can you imagine, me letting whoever cart off my books and bring them back when they're finished with them?" He shook his head quickly, "If it’s a book shop I can manage where they go."

The corners of his mouth pulling down, lower lip stiff the demon wobbled is head in thought. “I suppose.” he finally agreed, face relaxing into a small smile.

“Sounds like you’ll need a lot more…sellable books to fill your shop,” Crowley mused. “Still, I think it’s a fine idea. Any idea what you’d call it?”

"Not sure yet. I'm still having a think over it." Aziraphale hummed and dug into his food, eyes closing like normal while he enjoys it, feelings the textures and savoring the flavors.

He stopped once he finished the bite and began, "Oh! Are you still painting?"

Sipping his wine, Crowley relaxed into his seat, enjoying the way the dying light hit the angel as he ate. A great deal of thought had been put into this dinner. The light shown through the window in such a way as to light Aziraphale in profile, without in any way shinning into his eyes. The time of day had been precisely chosen.

Raising his brows at the question, Crowley took a deep breath, taking a stalling sip of wine. “Welll, guess I haven’t really had time lately.” He shifted in his seat. “Perhaps I will. I guess.”

The smile he casts the demon's way was beautiful, the reds from the sun bringing out the pink in his cheeks, "Your last one was very good, the one you gave me. I've had it framed and all." He took a sip of his drink and folded his hands in his lap, "What have you been doing thats kept you busy?"

As it so happened, at that moment Crowley was committing this image to memory with the very specific intention of painting it. Of course, he had zero intention of the angel ever actually seeing said painting.

Crowley could not stop the smile at knowing Aziraphale appreciated his painting. It had been a struggling, attempting to find a subject outside of the angel himself. He had to have something to show for the work, but all of his works had been—quite obviously—Aziraphale. It had actually been their conversation on ducks that gave him the idea. A bit of a joke.

“Oh, you know,” He waved his hand vaguely, “Demonic things.” It was not quite a lie.

"Demonic things." Aziraphale repeated back to him, eyeing Crowley over a forkful of dessert. He took his time through his next bite, watching the demon for any tells in what he's actually been doing, "You could just say you don't want to tell me."

Sipping his wine, Crowley raised his eyebrows at the angel, as if to say ‘is there a question?’. He allowed himself to remain relaxed, enjoying the view—not even thinking about his trip to Rome.

Setting the glass down gently, the demon smiles at the angel. “I could,” he responded, “But where’s the fun in that?”

Aziraphale continued to stare him down but gave him a soft chuckle and shook his head, "I suppose telling the truth is no fun for a demon. But I have to say, I thought I meant more to you than that, my dear." His bottom lip ripened in an exaggerated point as he continued to dine.

At the angel’s comment about truth, Crowley scoffed softly to himself, taking another drink of wine. For some reason, Aziraphale had it in his head that the demon lied to him on a regular basis. Of course, he never had. This was the closest he had come, but really it was not a lie. More a roundabout partial truth intended to mislead.

The last few words, however, did sting a bit. “Think of it as me trying to protect your delicate sensibilities,” Crowley parried, raising a brow at the angel. It was a sort of challenge. Both implying that he did care about the angel, enough to attempt to protect him. As well suggesting he would tell if pushed, but it would most certainly be something that Aziraphale would disapprove of.

Both of these things, were in fact, true.

The angel's brows furrowed slowly, coming down to rest against the top of his eyes in a look that was decidedly morbidly curious and worried. He set his drink down on the table and leaned closer, fixing the demon with a long stare, "Oh Crowley, what have you done?"

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Crowley took another long slow sip of his wine, stalling for time. Aziraphale never took the bait like this—the demon had been counting on that. He truly prided himself on never lying to the angel. Now, he had backed himself into a corner.

“Weelll,” Crowley swirled the wine in his glass, staring down into the clear liquid, “Hmmm, well, first off, just know things did not go quite as I planned.” The demon shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Aziraphale's brows quirked a little at the demon's odd behavior, mulling over how nervous he suddenly seemed. He knew, normally, this little game of theirs would be drawn out, but due to recent events, he had a feeling he knew exactly who, when, where, and why Crowley's meddling had taken place.

All he had to do was pry out of him was the What.

"Didn't go as planned? So what was planned, then?" He drummed his fingers slightly on the table, anxious, "What did you do?"

There was no backing out, no weaseling his way around this. Likely the news would reach London soon enough, anyway. Crowley had hoped to enjoy the evening first. Have a perfect dinner before the angel put the pieces together and had a go at him.

“I just meant for a bit of a fright,” Crowley explained, shifting in his seat again, “Put him in his place. Put the fear of God into him, sort of speak.”

The royal had been frightened, of course. Very frightened. How was Crowley to know he had an undiagnosed heart condition? Honestly, how often were people actually frightened to death?

Aziraphale just stared at him, eyes wide as the pieces slowly fell into place in his mind. The fancy dinner, the cocky attitude, only meant to give him a fright, "You killed him. You killed that king, didn't you?"

Wincing, the demon bobbed his head from side to side, making a vague gesture with his hand. “Ehh, weeelll, technically his own body killed him,” he countered, “Lifestyle choices, if you will.”

Aziraphale stood from the table, hands down against the table as he stared at the demon, wide eyed with bewilderment, "Crowley, you didn't."

Eyebrows shooting up, Crowley leaned back, holding up his hands in surrender. “What?! I didn’t do anything , really.” The demon explained, attempting to sound reasonable. “Just showed him something frightening. Didn’t lay a hand on him! How was I supposed to know his heart would give out?”

"It was that king, wasn't it." It wasn't actually a question, because Aziraphale already knew. But something was off about the look that finally settled on his face. There was slight anger there, yes, but something else, something unreadable as a flurry of emotions mixed in his chest and knocked his heart and mind out of sync.

"Why were you even there?"

Wincing again, Crowley did not answer the first question—knowing full well that it was not, in fact a question. Instead, he waited, still leaned back and uncertain.

At Aziraphale’s next question, he lowered his hands, mouth working silently. This was a turn he had not been expecting either.

“Ah, well,” He stammered, mind scrambling, “You see, well, ehh, hmmm. Reasons?”

"Is it-" Aziraphale stopped himself short, eyes wide as he recalled everything that had happened during their previous get together. Crowley breaking his glass, the way he stormed off early. The puzzle was slowly completing itself in the angel's mind and his face flushed, "Was  it... because of what I had to do with him?"

Looking away, facing the window, Crowley shifted, making vaguely annoyed sounds as he gestured with his hand. This continued for a moment, with the demon not actually saying anything at all.

“Does it matter at this point? He’s dead, I’m a demon, what’s the problem?”

Aziraphale settled back into his seat, watching the demon with careful eyes as he processed the information before him.

"You don't kill without reason, Crowley. You're better than that."

Sighing, Crowley ran his fingers through is hair. As it happened, he did not kill at all. It was something he had managed to carefully dance around in his every order from Hell since the beginning of time. Of course, he would not tell the angel that. Aziraphale probably wouldn’t believe him if he did.

“As I said, I didn’t mean for him to die. “ Crowley argued once more. “I scare people for no real reason all the time.  “

“And none of them have ever dropped dead,” he muttered to himself.

"But why were you up there at all?" The angel’s expression morphing into something more curious, head tilted in the slightest, cutest way, "I went to Rome so you didn't have to. Why would you go behind me and visit the same man just after I had?"

Glancing at Aziraphale, then back out the window, he considered just throwing it out there. The angel was asking pointed questions—leading questions. He knew, or at least had an idea.

Crowley decided against this.

“I had some follow up business to take care of. Short notice.” It was not a lie.

Aziraphale stared at him, let the answer settle over him for a moment. If Crowley had admitted to jealousy over what had happened, things would change. The entire dynamic of their relationship with shift and honestly, Aziraphale's wasn't precisely sure he was ready to deal with the consequences.

Even though his chest ached at the thought that Crowley didn't really care about what had happened.

He returned to his meal, eating decidedly slower and letting the cover Crowley tossed settle over them, "Right. Of course. Well I do hope you managed whatever you were trying to accomplish."

Relief flavored with, just a hint, of disappointment flooded through the demon as Aziraphale let it go. Letting out a deep breath, he relaxes in his seat, returning to his wine.

Crowley spent so much time wishing the angel would see how he felt, and return those feelings. Yet, the idea of it being discovered, and Aziraphale being horrified was too much. This was a secret he would gladly take to the end of the world, if it meant keeping his angel by his side.

“Quite.” Crowley answered simply. “How’s the food?”

[tuanyiems]

Muse

Character: Got7 Bambam x Fem Reader Genre: Fluff Words: 8.2k Plot: Arranged Marriage AU! Artist AU! [Masterlist] [Arranged Marriage AU Masterlist] a/n - this strayed a little from the intended au but I hope you still enjoy it c: But that concludes the series of Arranged Marriage AUs! It took a lot longer than I thought it would haha - The first time you heard of Bambam was when you were fourteen, sitting across from him in an English class in which the teacher struggled during rollcall. “Kun…pi…mook uh Bu—” “I just go by Bambam,” he had cut in, much to the relief of the teacher. And you smiled to yourself, thinking how cute a name it was for an equally cute boy. But you didn’t think much of him until your senior year arrived and you heard his name once again. This time during a morning announcement. “Congratulations to our one and only Bambam for winning the Artisan Award, one of the most prestigious art scholarships in the nation.” And you smiled along with your other classmates, in awe of the young man, but deep down you felt a tinge of disappointment at having to pretend you hadn't submitted your own portfolio to that scholarship too. In fact, it was the only scholarship you thought you had a chance at winning. Apparently, you were just bad at everything. And you knew this to be true because your parents affirmed it, always sneaking in remarks during dinner time and phone calls and in conversation amongst relatives.

“If you’re going to paint all day, you should at least be as good as that Bambam boy.” “Did you hear? Bambam didn’t even finish college yet and he’s already starting his own company.” “You should call Bambam and ask for advice. Film, photography, painting, it’s all the same thing right? Why is Bambam so good at it and you’re so bad?” “If you’re going to drop out of school too, shouldn’t you at least be as talented as Bambam? You should do what he’s doing.” “Have you been watching TV lately? Bambam’s the one that shot the soju commercial. Everybody’s talking about it.” “You know, Bambam just bought his mom a new house. She posted pictures of it. It must have cost a fortune.” So ten years since hearing Bambam’s name for the first time, you were now sincerely sick of it. After years of arguing back to your parents that videography was completely different from the traditional art you did and that maybe you didn’t want to be like Bambam, that you were completely satisfied with the life you had managed on your own, you gave up. Your parents would never understand you. To them, success was marked by how big a house you owned and how famous your name was. They could never fathom that you could be just as satisfied and happy by doing what you loved in your humble apartment-slash-office, selling your art prints online with the couple monthly commissions that gave you an extra tasty meal now and then. You weren’t famous by any means, but you had enough patrons supporting you that you could live comfortably. You even got a contract to illustrate for a newly signed children’s book author. She was no Shel Silverstein but this was a childhood dream come true for you, nonetheless. And when the royalties from that start to roll in, you might be able to get your dad a new car. It wouldn’t be like Bambam’s mom’s house but it was more than nothing. So when your mother stopped by your apartment this morning to restock your fridge with fresh kimchi and fruits, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes to the name that rolled off her tongue. “Bambam’s mom stopped by the other day and we were talking about you,” she started. You could only sigh, sitting at your kitchen table in resignation. “Did Bambam buy her an airplane this time?” You mother chuckled, slapping your arm. “No silly, why would she need an airplane? She’s living in such a lovely house now.” You took in a deep breath before forcing on a smile. You nodded for your mother to continue. “So you remember when you dropped out of school?” You inwardly grimaced, wondering if you’d be lectured again. “Yes?” “And we let you, remember? On one condition,” she continued. Your eyes widened. The one condition being, they would choose the man you married. When you were nineteen you agreed without a second thought. All you had wanted to do was art. You didn’t care about anything else in your life—especially not marriage which seemed to be so far away. “I couldn’t believe my ears when she asked about you, but wouldn’t it be just perfect to marry a boy like Bambam? He’s so sweet and handsome and financially secure.” “Mom, there’s more to life than just looks and money. And shouldn’t you be asking for his permission first before you marry us off?” Your mother turned to you with a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, but dear, he already agreed.” “He what?!” - “He agreed to marry you?” Mark gaped, setting a cup of coffee on your desk as he took a seat across from you. “Yeah that was my reaction too. I didn’t even know he knew me.” “Aren’t your moms friends though?” “Yeah but we never hung out or anything. He was just the kid I always got compared to. Now they’re just going to say ‘your husband is so good at this’ and ‘you should be like your husband’ urgh!” “Does this mean I get a discount then?” Mark chuckled, going through your illustrations for his label’s new clothing designs. You rolled your eyes, gulping your cup of coffee aggressively. “I’m not going to marry him. He probably didn’t realize what he agreed to. Once he gets to know me he’ll realize he messed up.” “Your self-confidence is admirable,” Mark deadpanned. You shrugged. “I’ve seen his style. Bambam’s all flash and I’m all…not. We won’t mesh.” “So this wouldn’t be a good time to invite you to my launching party, huh?” You raised your eyes, smiling. “Of course not, Markie. You know I’ll always go to support you!” “Bambam’s hosting it,” he added with a cheeky grin. You sighed for probably the hundredth time that morning. “Of course he is. Bambam would never pass up an opportunity to party.” “You know, you complain that he doesn’t know you enough but you seem to talk about him like you know everything about him.” You shrugged your shoulders, setting up your paints. “He posts videos of his grill collection on his Instagram story. A guy like that isn’t my type.” Mark lifted an eyebrow, a smirk growing on his lips as he fingered through the illustrations. “So you look at his Instastory often?” “Shut up. Mark!” - But despite Mark’s teasing words running through your head, you found yourself checking all of Bambam’s social media every single night. Most of the time he’d post teasers of his projects, videos advertising Mark’s upcoming line but once in a while you’d see an embarrassing video of Yugyeom, his business partner and occasionally, a selfie. Your eyes always lingered for longer than you would ever admit. Bambam was handsome. And though you hated to admit it, his videos really were artworks by themselves. No wonder they were always comparing you to him. Every parent seemed to want a Bambam for their child. You stared at your phone screen, eyes gazing over his brown orbs, framed by the gold reading glasses he kept on the bridge of his nose. You remember when Bambam’s cheeks used to plump up when he smiled, winning over your teachers’ hearts with his boyish qualities. Now he had a jawline and when he spoke, low and casual in his videos, it sent shivers down your spine. Bambam was attractive and he knew it. You phone screen went black and you stared at your own reflection with a grimace. You really couldn’t understand why he would agree to a marriage with you. He could have any woman in the world, why you? Pulling you out of your thoughts, your phone screen lit up with an unknown number. Normally you wouldn’t answer a random phone call, especially at this hour of the night, but somehow you found yourself answering anyways. Clicking the green answer button, you waited for the other end to speak. “Um, hey,” a deep voice whispered back and you jerked up immediately, hearing the exact voice you were just daydreaming about. “H-hi,” you answered back, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. “This is Bambam,” he added and you almost laughed at his sudden clarification. “Oh, um this is Y/N,” you added back, fiddling with your blanket. He chuckled, the low vibrations sending shivers down your spine. “I know, I’m the one that called you, silly.” And you laughed back in embarrassment, silently making a face of agony as you held your breath and waited for him to continue. “So my mom gave me your number. I was told that you’ve heard,” he paused. And you didn’t know what to say. From his voice you couldn’t tell if he was pleased or frustrated. And then you had the nerve wrecking thought of maybe he hadn’t actually agreed. Maybe he was just pushed into it by his mom just like you were. Because as much as you pegged Bambam for a superficial, materialistic party animal, he was also filial as fuck. “Um, did you hear?” Bambam asked again, unsure by your silence. “Oh, uh yeah I did,” you finally replied back. You heard a thoughtful hum on his end before he spoke again. “So uh, should we meet…or something?” You paused, hearing a tinge of nervousness in his voice that didn’t seem to match with the confident bravado he always displayed online. But you wouldn’t let yourself believe it. He was probably annoyed he got pushed into marrying you. “Oh, well I’ll be going to Mark’s launching party,” you added. “Oh mm, I see, bu—” “I guess I’ll see you there?” “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled briefly before sighing. “Yeah, I’ll see you then Y/N.” “Was…there anything else?” You asked slowly, your ears straining to memorize the sound of his soft breaths as you waited. “Uh…mmm…” Bambam hummed through the phone for a while before finally speaking again. “Ah, I guess not. I’ll see you at the party then.” “Yeah, see you then,” you replied softly. And you waited for a few seconds, listening for the familiar click of the end call but it never came. Quietly you clicked the red button yourself before letting your body fall back into bed. When the call screen ended you were met face to face again with the photo of Bambam and you looked away, cheeks pink and butterflies fluttering for the rest of the night. - When you entered the venue space of the launching party you immediately felt out of place. These kinds of events always seemed to shake you no matter how many times you went. Even though your mind knew what to expect, your body always felt tense and much too awkward. Even though you were close friends with Mark, the highlight of today’s party, you didn’t know much of anybody else. You had met Jackson a few times in passing and shared a nice brunch with Jinyoung once but everyone else? They were pretty much strangers. And so you did what you always did at events like these—you shrunk. Fiddling with your phone, though you had no particle app opened, you made your way to the refreshments table with your head down. Eyes glancing down the table full of a variety of drinks, you opted for a bubbling glass, taking your chances at it being either champagne or ginger ale. Taking a sip, you smiled to yourself. Why did you even think Bambam would have ginger ale at his party? “Are you Y/N?” A voice approached you and as you raised your eyes, you recognized the man to be Youngjae, an amazing singer and one of Bambam’s more frequent clients. You immediately blushed as he raised his hand for you to shake. “Y-yes, that’s me,” you shook his hand nervously, eyes wide. You had never been so close to a celebrity before. “I just passed the art gallery in the other room. I can’t believe you did all of that. Those designs are…just wow…like I’ve seen fashion sketches but this is truly art!” You warmed up at the compliment, hands immediately returning to their nervous state, in between fiddling with your phone and the sleeves of your dress. “T-thanks,” you mumbled shyly, feeling the flush of warmth in your entire face. “You said…there was a gallery?” “Yeah, it’s just…oh Hyung! I found the artist!” Youngjae waved across the room, laughing loudly in excitement and successfully gathering the attention of almost everyone in the room. You bit at your lips nervously as you tried your best to shrink. This was the hard part about being an artist—the socializing. You enjoyed it much more when it was over a computer screen. When the Hyung Youngjae was referring to, arrived, you felt your heart explode in your chest. It was none other than Im Jaebum, one of your favorite singers. You followed him since his Soundcloud days and you may or may not have a few dozen fanart paintings of him. “Hi, I’m Jaebum,” he introduced, raising his hand to you and you’re not sure what sputtered out of your mouth but he was kind enough to smile it off. “You’re an amazing artist.” “Oh, I’m really not,” you blushed, biting nervously at your lip again. “No, I seriously love your work. I’d love if we could collab. Maybe you could design my next album.” Jaebum continued with Youngjae nodding enthusiastically beside him. “I know this is supposed to be Mark’s night and all but you really blew our minds with your artwork,” Youngjae added, seeing your look of disbelief that this was even happening. “I-I don’t know what to say. I’m just a small artist. I’m barely an artist really…and you two, you two are actual artists I listen to like every day.” You would’ve gone on with your babbling if it weren’t for Mark’s presence arriving right beside you. You felt your shoulders relax a bit at the sound of his chuckling. “Guys, you’re gonna give her a heart attack,” he joked. “And before you do that, I need to borrow her for a second. I can give you her contact info later.” And with a shy wave to the two handsome men, you were led away into the other room. “You have to check out the gallery space. Bambam really outdid himself,” Mark smiled, stopping at the front of a door. He pushed at your back softly. “Go on, you should see it by yourself.” You stared at the double doors hesitantly. You didn’t understand what they meant by gallery space. Youngjae and Jaebum were complimenting your art, but this was Mark’s launching party. Shouldn’t the gallery be a space for his clothes? You wondered maybe if they were just talking about your model outlines, but those were just simple sketches—nothing to be complimented about. You turned around, eyes looking for Mark’s but he was already in another conversation with someone else. And then your eyes landed on Bambam, decked out in what looked like a fancy tracksuit, a rope of shiny diamonds dangling from his neck. You almost laughed out loud, seeing him bend slightly towards a mirror on the wall, fingers fixing daintily at his silver strands of hair. You scoffed, seeing him wink at himself, before turning back to the gallery door. If Bambam was behind this, it couldn’t possibly be too meaningful. Without any more hesitation, you pushed open the double doors. You audibly gasped. The room was surrounded by blown up prints of your digital illustrations—drawings you had made as a present for Mark during his toughest days when he could no longer imagine his clothes being worn by others, so you illustrated a series of moments when you were happiest in his clothing. You didn’t think much of this little present of yours after you had emailed it to him. Mark hadn’t said anything about it either besides the passing thanks so you never thought it meant too much. At the center of the gallery were your physical sketches. There were the main illustrations of the designs that Mark finalized and made into his line but as you walked further, you found the silly doodles during the design process. They were a collection of silly comics and funny doodles of Mark working in your office-slash-bedroom. You blushed, seeing a small doodle of a certain silver haired boy. You wondered if he noticed this. You paused, sitting at a bench that was positioned in front of the center wall where a large blank screen stood. You stared at the room around you in amazement. When you were young and naïve, you used to dream about having your art in a gallery. After you dropped out of college and your struggle to make ends meet became a reality, you knew that dream was very far away if not impossible now. Still, you were quite content with just being able to do art every day. But now, as you sat here alone, surrounded by your art, you felt a pang in your heart. And Youngjae’s words ruminated in your head once more. I found the artist. It was a strange feeling. Yes, you were pursuing art fulltime. Yes, your business card indeed said “artist.” But in your heart of hearts, you never truly believed it. Everyone around you, be it Bambam or Mark or Youngjae and Jaebum, they were real artists. And you felt like a pretend one. It felt strange to see all your art in one room, taking up space unapologetically along the white walls. It was strange but in a good way. The door of the gallery opened once more and you were met with Bambam. His eyes widened, seeing you sitting there. But his composure was quickly recovered as he made his way to you. “Do you like it?” he asked softly and you nodded, not trusting your voice to say the right things. Bambam stood in front of you, eyes moving around the space quietly before landing back on you. “It’s been a while…I guess we never really talked to each other, so…” He held out his hand for you to take. You smiled politely, hands grasping over his warm palm. You couldn’t help but feel the flood of warmth invade your cheeks once more. “Hello, I’m Bambam,” he introduced with a playful grin, hand still lingering on yours. You chuckled softly. “Hi, Bambam, I’m Y/N.” His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before releasing your hand. “So, do you really like it?” You smiled. “Yes, I wasn’t even imagining anything like this to happen.” “It’s what you deserve.” You shook your head vigorously. You couldn’t take the credit for all the sweat and tears Mark put into his label. You were just one of the threads in the project. Nothing more. “There’s more.” And you looked at Bambam questioningly before he pulled a device out of his pocket, clicking a few buttons. And the room was quickly cloaked in midnight blue, allowing for the glow of constellations to shine through in the darkness, littering your artwork in a galaxy. “Oh my,” you gasped softly in surprise, feeling another pang in your heart. And then you heard giggling from behind you. Your giggling. Turning around, the blank screen was now displaying a video of you working in your bedroom. “Stop recording me Mark! I know you’re recording me!” You laughed. “No I’m not, I’m seriously looking at e-mails. Geez, you’re such a narcissist!” Mark’s voice answered back. You only laughed, getting up before tackling Mark. A new clip. It was midnight. You were in the kitchen making coffee. Mark was filming across the details of your work space. He was giggling mischievously before his hands grabbed for a book at the bottom of your bookcase. “Wow, I just struck gold. This is Y/N’s high school yearbook. Let’s see what kind of dork she was back then,” he chuckled, camera glancing back at your back towards him before returning to the open book. “Let’s see,” he hummed before a loose note fell out from the pages. It was a print out of an Instagram post you made back in your junior year of high school. “Aww, is this a crush? I never pegged Y/N to be the sappy type.” “Mark! Are you filming again?!” Your voice interrupted as you came into the frame, quickly collecting the yearbook, but Mark held firmly to the printed paper, raising it high in the air so you couldn’t snatch it away. “So who is this? Muse_ig? A crush?” You blushed, whining softly as you hugged the yearbook close to your chest. “It’s nothing like that. T-That was just…my first commission piece,” your voice answered meekly, ears turning a visible red even in the lowly lit room. A new clip. It was early in the morning, before the sun had even risen. You were asleep on your desk, a pen between your fingers still. And as the camera travelled through the details of your desk—the designs you were working on for Mark, the collection of small jars filled with sand from your local beaches, the sticky notes reminding you to buy eggs and cup ramen. And as your eyes followed the screen, your voice resonated throughout the room again. “Sometimes I like to imagine my heart having a deep conversation with my mind, telling my imagination to dream up everything I desire. It pushes me back into the thick of things, especially when I want to give up.” “I don’t know, Y/N,” Mark’s voice spoke up again. And you recognized this to be one of your Facetime conversations. “I just can’t imagine anymore. Staring at the fabrics every day, looking at one thread and then another, I feel like I’m losing my mind. I don’t even know if I really want this anymore.” “Don’t be silly Mark, you’ve been dreaming about this for over a year now. And you’re almost there.” “I don’t know,” “Trust me. I’ll be your imagination. It’s what I’m here for…To be honest, there are a lot of days I envy you, seeing your passion project come to life so quickly. It’s because you’ve worked so hard to get here…you inspire me to keep going too.” And then the video goes dark, lighting up with constellations like the walls around you. Letters begin to glow on screen. To Y/N – Thank you for being our imagination, our inspiration, our muse. “Thank you,” a voice utters softly, but it’s not Mark’s voice. Your stomach flutters, turning to the side to see the man right beside you. It’s Bambam’s voice. “When we were working on his promotion video,” Bambam spoke up, eyes still on the screen. “Mark said he wanted a way to acknowledge all the work you’ve done for him without ever asking for anything in return. I suggested making a video and he was immediately up for it. I see you caught on to his filming.” You smiled, eyes still lingering on Bambam’s profile. “It was very annoying.” “It was a pleasure for me,” he replied back, gaze flickering to yours with a smile. And your stomach fluttered, wondering if Bambam always talked this sweetly to others. “I’m sure you’re sick of my face by now,” you joked to ease the tension. He frowned though. “I could never. You put so much of your heart into this project, this is the least you deserve.” You smiled softly though you didn’t believe him. “Well, I don’t want to take up more of your time,” you finally spoke. Bambam remained quiet, eyes lingering on you before traveling to your lips. You shivered, eyes glancing down at his, the way his tongue darted out in a nervous gesture across his lips before returning. In the glow of midnight blue, his gold-rimmed glasses reflected almost like a sliver of stardust, pulling you in. “You could have all of my time,” Bambam whispered, leaning in. But before he could get any closer (or you could for that matter) a bright ray of light shown directly over the two of you and a voice resounded. “We should keep these doors open for people to walk through…Oh, Bams! What are you doing here in the d—oh! Y/N! Ohhh,” Bambam’s business partner, Yugyeom continued to exclaim in surprise before offering a cheeky smile to Bambam. You heard Bambam sigh beside you before the lights returned to their stark whiteness and Yugyeom approached you with a bright smile. “It’s great to finally meet you!” he greeted before wrapping his arms around both you and Bambam. “It’s perfect that I found you two. Mark’s about to pop the champagne!” You smiled at his friendliness, a blush burning at the thought of what might have happened if he had interrupted just a moment later. With that thought in mind, you rushed out of his arms with a lame excuse before shrinking back into your usual spot, behind the party, of which Mark was at the center. You chuckled sipping at your fourth glass of champagne, glad your friend was enjoying himself because he truly deserved it. Beside him was Yugyeom dancing to the beat of the music and you chuckled at the sight of Youngjae joining in. But despite all the craziness going on, you couldn’t help thinking that Bambam wasn’t in the thick of things. Where did he go? You shook your head, downing another glass to get that thought out of your mind. You didn’t need to know where Bambam was. You weren’t supposed to be curious about him. Like clockwork, you pulled out your phone again, finding yourself scrolling through Instagram. But the first thing to show up on your screen was, of course, Bambam. It was a photo of the party, posted 45 seconds ago. You looked up, seeing a similar view. “Shouldn’t you be joining them?” You jerked your head in surprise, seeing Bambam right beside you. You blinked hard, wondering how he even appeared out of nowhere. “Shouldn’t you?” You asked back. He shrugged. “I’m more of a background guy.” “Hmm,” you slurred, leaning in closer to get a good look at him, wondering if this was really Bambam you were talking to. “I wouldn’t have thought so.” Bambam chuckled, hands touching your shoulder gently before you leaned onto him altogether. “Are you okay, Y/N?” “Yeah,” you yawned. “I’m just tired.” He smiled, a finger grazing your warm, pink cheek softly. You were very obviously sporting a buzzed glow. “Want me to drive you home?” You smiled, setting down your empty glass. “Don’t you have a party to host?” He tilted his head, looking over to his dancing business partner. “That’s what Yugyeom is for.” You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “Well, if you insist.” Your stomach curled at the idea of being completely alone with Bambam in his car but you must have been more inebriated than you thought because when you woke up you were in a bedroom that wasn’t your own. For a moment, you were stricken with fear at having been kidnapped. However, on closer inspection you realized this was Bambam’s bedroom (because you may or may not have seen it a few dozen times on his social media). And from the glow of the clock on his side desk, you knew it was 3AM. You looked around curiously. Even in the dark of the room you could see everything was neat and looked, for the most part, seemingly undisturbed. Where was Bambam? Slowly, you rose from the bed, making your way towards the door, you hear the sound of keyboards tapping before you see it. And when you see it, you almost don’t believe it. The glow of the computer screen illuminates his face and his eye brows are slightly arched in concentration. He’s so focused he doesn’t even notice you walking closer. You don’t know why this image surprises you. Bambam makes videos for a living, so of course he should be at his computer editing. How else would his works of art come to life? Because that’s what his work was—art. You’d never admit it to your mother, but you admired his videos just as much as she did if not more. But you were so used to seeing Bambam on screen—doing silly dance battles with Yugyeom, rap battles with Jackson, or showing off his latest designer shoes—so it never occurred to you the amount of hours or the diligent work ethic he might have needed in order to produce such outcomes. And as you leaned on the wall, admiring this scene before you, your heart warmed up a bit. It was interesting to see Bambam so quiet and so serious. It made sense though. Despite the exponential growth in fame and wealth, Bambam’s company was still relatively small, consisting of only a handful of team members. It only made sense that everyone in the team work hard to pick up the massive workload that came with such growth—and Bambam especially so, as co-founder and creative director. But it was 3 in the morning and after a party at that. “Oh hey,” Bambam let out in surprise. “I didn’t see you there.” You smiled softly. Perhaps the screen was playing tricks on your mind but you swear you saw a hint of pink rise to his cheeks. You lifted your eyebrows, making a slight gesture to his computer monitor. “Can I look?” A bashful look graced Bambam’s cheeks as he nodded carefully. And you smiled back, walking over to his side. You could get used to this Bambam. He was much less intimidating. “It’s really rough,” he excused as he scooted over to make more room for you. You leaned in, seeing all the tiny cuts and layers already made on the file. This was rough? You couldn’t imagine what the final product looked like then. “I’m sure it’s good. You have a good eye for these things,” you commented before pressing play. It was a video of Yugyeom dancing. Looking at it made you smile. Despite pretending to have no interest in the company, you knew exactly how it originated. How could you not? Their very first video was of Yugyeom dancing and it had gone viral. All the college students and their mamas were talking about it. (You could confirm this with your own mother.) “What do you think?” he asked hesitantly as the video ended. “It looks great. Makes me wish I knew how to dance,” you chuckled, turning your head to look at him. He was smiling fondly, leaning into his desk, his face was right beside yours so that he was just inches away. “I could teach you,” he whispered, eyes wandering down to your lips. You stared at his lowering gaze, the way the light of the computer screen reflected in his orbs, reminding you of the galaxy you saw just a few hours ago. And for a second your breath remained caught in your lungs as you waited for him to lean in. You wondered if his lips would feel as soft and plush against yours as how they looked. And you almost pushed yourself forward at the sight of his tongue shyly peeking out again, but all breath escaped you in a sudden scream as you felt something brush against your bare legs. “Eeek!” You squealed, body reacted on its own as you jumped towards Bambam. His eyes widened in surprise as his arms came instinctively around your waist. “Are you okay?” He asked, alarmed. “Are you allergic?” You looked down in panic only to see a small lump of fur. And then it moved, revealing the face of a cute, though clearly unamused cat—Cupcake to be exact. You let out an embarrassed chuckle, removing yourself from Bambam’s arms. “Ah, no,” you sighed, rubbing at your neck as the warmth quickly rose to your cheeks. “I just forgot you had cats.” You watched with belated horror as Bambam’s cheeks gradually began to rise and a mischievous smile spread across his face. “Forgot? As in, you knew before?” “I-um what? No? I mean...” You looked down at your feet, watching as Cupcake softly rubbed against your ankles and the embarrassment burned on your cheeks. “I uh, I watch your Instagram story sometimes.” Bambam broke into a chuckle, arms coming around your shoulder in an attempt to sooth you and he guided you back to his living room couch. “Yeah, I know, I’m just messing with you.” You looked at him in surprise as he let you go to sit on the couch. “You knew?”

“Yeah, I can see when people watch my stories, you know?” “Oh,” you nodded dumbly, a little taken aback. “I didn’t think you’d notice though. I’m sure you get thousands of views.” “Oh no, I’ve always noticed,” he gave you a playful smile which only grew as you became even more red in the face. “You want some water?” You could only nod, not sure how else to respond to what he had said earlier. You gave a quiet thanks as Bambam handed you a cold glass of water before sitting down next to you. With the lights dimly lit now, you could see how tired he looked. He was bent forward, his shoulders slightly slouching and without his contacts or gold frames in the way, you could clearly see the eye bags that hung beneath his tired eyes. And it was then that you realized that you were seeing Bambam for who he truly was—just a passionate young man working his hardest for his dream. “Sorry I intruded on you tonight,” you finally spoke up, breaking him out of his own trance. He shook his head, smiling softly. “No, I’m sorry I brought you here without asking. I wasn’t sure how to get you home.” “No, I’m grateful, really,” you smiled shyly before grimacing. “I was out like a log. Did you...carry me in?” Bambam chuckled, endeared by your cautious question. He nodded, laughing even more at your look of horror. “Don’t worry, it was an easy task.” “Sorry, I didn’t think I would drink so much,” you apologized again. He only smiled, eyes looking at you fondly once more. “No, you’re a cute drunk.” You took another gulp of cold water, feeling the warmth creep back into your cheeks. “I’m still surprised you went home early,” you finally say, breaking the silence and hopefully Bambam’s gaze on you. He tilted his head for you to continue. “I guess I was just so used to seeing the Bambam you put online—the guy that flaunts his diamond collection and I don’t know, goes on helicopter rides for a Twitter post.” Bambam laughed, a playful tongue peeking out once again in embarrassment. “So what you’re saying is, you thought I was a superficial rich kid?” You blushed at his bluntness. “Um, I mean...I guess I just didn’t think you were my type or like, someone I’d get along with.” You sipped at your water in an attempt to hide your flustered reaction. Bambam went quiet and for a moment you worried you had upset him. Tentatively, you peeked a glance his way only to have his eyes lock onto yours. “So, has your opinion changed yet? Am I your type?” He asked, arms leaning confidently on the back of the couch as he smiled at you cheekily. You almost coughed on your water. But instead you turned to him, arms crossing over your chest with renewed vigor. “Why did you agree to marry me?” Instead of surprise like you were expecting, Bambam’s smile only grew as he leaned closer to you. “Because I’m superficial and you’re pretty.” You frowned despite the hotness in your cheeks. “No, but seriously. You could have any girl you wanted, why would you settle for me?” Bambam’s playful smile slipped from his face as he registered your deprecating words. “I don’t know if I could have anygirl, but even if I could, I’d still choose you.” And he watched as you sighed, clearly hesitant to believe him. “But, why? You don’t even know me.” “I’d like to though,” he replied back without hesitation. You only shook your head. “You’ll regret saying that.” “Give me a chance to prove you wrong then,” he looked at you earnestly, but you didn’t know what to say. You had convinced yourself that Bambam was being pushed into this marriage by his mother. But he looked at you with so much determination. You just…well, you simply didn’t understand. Why you? Seeing that you were going to remain silent, Bambam went on, “Maybe marriage was too much. I saw an opportunity and I jumped at it.” He chuckled. “But what’s a little date, right? I’m sure you get asked a lot. Just go on a date with me and if you still aren’t feeling it, we can call it quits.” “No,” you finally spoke up and immediately you could see the crestfallen look in his eyes. “I mean, no, I don’t get asked out a lot…ever.” Bambam looked up at you with raised eyebrows and a growing smile. “Is that a yes, then?” You chuckled softly, fingers playing at the ends of your sleeves nervously. “It’s a ‘you’re going to regret this’ but, okay.” Bambam sunk into his couch cushions as he let out a sigh of relief and a big, wide smile spread across his face. And though you were still quite nervous and anxious about what you had just agreed to, you couldn’t help but smile too. There was something so pure in his expression and you were reminded of a Bambam from ten years ago. “It’s almost 4am, shouldn’t you rest?” He tilted his head your way, lids heavy but a grin still on his lips. “Yeah, we both should be sleeping, huh?” “You’ve worked hard, Bambam. You should rest.” You smiled softly. And as if on cue, he let out a tired yawn. “I guess it’s time that we both get ready for bed,” he chuckled. “Come, I’ll give you my pjs and you can shower.” You nodded, smiling. And after a hot shower, decked out in his red, silk pajamas, you exited his bathroom feeling much more relaxed. You grinned at your reflection in his bathroom mirror. You never even owned a matching set of pajamas before. But you had to admit, the silk on your skin felt amazing. Sneaking back out to the living room to say a final goodnight, you were greeted with the sight of Bambam working still, except this time on his laptop. By now it was already past 4am. “I thought you said you’d get ready to sleep,” you spoke up, causing him to jerk in surprise. He chuckled, a guilty smile at having been caught. “Thinking about that date got me pumped up again,” he grinned playfully. You rolled your eyes though you couldn’t help smiling anyways. “I still don’t understand why you’d want to spend time with me, but whatever makes you happy.” “It does. Very happy.” You bit at your bottom lip. “Well, just don’t get too disappointed later.” “I won’t,” he replied back immediately. “I know art when I see it, and you’re the definition.” You rolled your eyes again at the cheesy line and Bambam laughed at the gesture. “I’m serious, Y/N,” he chuckled softly before getting up and taking your hand in his. You tried not to show your flustered heart as he led you back into his bedroom. “I thought you were the coolest girl since the day I saw you. It would be a real shame if I came this close just to let you go.” You didn’t know what to say. You could only sigh in defeat as you took a seat by the edge of his bed. But you could tell he wasn’t going to let the topic go so easily. “Y/N, I’m not saying this just to butter you up. I sincerely mean what I say when I say I sincerely want you to be in my life. I want to sit all day and just watch you make art. You inspire me by just existing.” You scoffed, shaking your head with each sentence that came out of his mouth.  “Yeah, I know this sounds crazy. We’ve never even really talked until now. I just…” Bambam paused, eyes looking down at you before quickly looking away in embarrassment. “Ah, shit. I’m freaking you out aren’t I? Maybe I don’t mean marriage…I just…shit, I’m coming on too strong.” You chuckled at his suddenly shy expression before scooting to lay your head down on his pillows. You patted the spot beside you. “Maybe a little bit,” you whispered with a soft laugh as he hesitantly took his place beside you. “I just don’t understand where this is coming from.” You let out another deep breath, the sleepiness of the early dawn giving you a kind of bravery to let your gaze trace the features of the man before you. Tired eyes like yours. Silver hair like starlight. Velvet lips you longed for. It was like a photo from your phone except better—breathing, soft and feathery against your own skin. “Almost my entire life, ever since you came into my life, I’ve been compared to you. It’s not your fault, of course, but no matter what I did, it was always ‘Bambam does it better.’ So I resented you a lot. And I admired you as much as I hated you. I grew up wanting to be you.” You confessed quietly. “I just can’t make sense of what you’re telling me now…How can the guy I’ve been constantly trying to reach turn around and say he’s been wanting me all along? It doesn’t make sense.” “You need to give yourself more credit.” You only closed your eyes, shaking your head against his pillow. “You’re crazy Bambam.” He didn’t say anything back but you had a feeling he was smiling. In the end, you never found out as sleep quickly washed over you. That night you dreamed of being in a warm embrace. When you woke up, you were by yourself again, besides the soft ball of warmth laying on your belly. You smiled at the serene cat, purring softly against you. You recognized this one as King. Turning your head as slightly as you could so as not to disturb the feline, you searched for a sign of the time. Your eyes widened, realizing it was already almost noon. But you couldn’t get yourself to leave the bed. A part of you was grateful to have the cat keep you captive. You had never slept so soundly in your life. You figured partly, it was due to the fact you had gone to sleep past 4am, but part of it was just Bambam. You usually weren’t so comfortable about sleeping in another man’s bed. Even Mark couldn’t convince you to share a bed despite your close friendship. But here, you were oddly at ease. In his clothes, wrapped in his bedsheets, everything around you smelled and felt like warmth. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. Everything about yesterday felt like a dream. For months you had been working with Mark on his designs, supporting him when the idea was just in its baby form. To think all his work and efforts were finally being realized made you so incredibly proud, so you hadn’t been expecting any part of that party to be honoring your contributions, let alone a whole gallery! You yawned, finally forcing yourself to rise. When you exited the room, you were greeted by a smiling Bambam in his open kitchen. “Breakfast?” he offered, lifting up a spoon. You grinned, stepping closer to see his bowl of Lucky Charms. “So fancy,” you teased, taking a seat across from him at his kitchen island. “Don’t mind if I do.” “It gets fancier,” Bambam smiled, walking to open his cabinets, revealing a wide selection of cereals—all of which were equally as colorful and sugary. You laughed along with him. “I’ll have what you’re having.” “Of course, anything for the artist.” You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to hide your blushing cheeks. Bambam only smiled, catching onto the pink hues quickly. “So are you a cereal first or milk first kinda girl?” he asked, breaking the silence.  You cringed. “Who puts milk first?” “Yugyeom,” Bambam deadpanned. “He’s a psycho.” You chuckled. “Cereal first please. The craziest thing I’ll ever do is…” you paused, thinking. Bambam handed you a spoon for your meal. “Is marry me?” Your eyes widened in surprise as you were yet again pink in the cheeks. Recovering from the momentary shock, you grabbed the spoon. “I thought you were satisfied with getting a date, Bambam.” He grinned, shrugging. “What can I say, I’m a little greedy.” “I guess that’s how you got to where you were, huh?” You chuckled, taking in a spoonful of Lucky Charms. “Hmm, I guess,” Bambam smiled quietly, gaze locking onto yours. “I had a lot of inspiration too.” You tilted your head. “What inspires you?” “I guess you could say I have a muse,” he answered coyly. You chuckled, swirling your spoon in the cereal. “Well whoever it is must be amazing if your videos are inspired by them.” “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “You are.” You looked up, confused again. “Hmm?” “I wish you knew how amazing you are.” You rolled your eyes again. “Bambam, I already agreed to a date, you don’t have to say all this.” “Come here,” Bambam answered, taking your hand in his. You blinked profusely at the gesture as he led you away from the kitchen. You flushed at the feeling of his warm hand in yours. You almost bumped into him as he stopped suddenly at a door. “I was gonna save this for at least the third date, but what the heck, open it.” You glanced at him nervously before reaching for the door knob. He only ushered you on with a light hand on the small of your back. With a nervous breath, you turned the knob. When you saw, you could only gasp. You didn’t know what you were expecting, what it definitely wasn’t this. “Here is my muse,” he whispered softly beside you. “When I feel down I come to her. She inspires me.” Your chest tightened as your gaze followed along his walls before landing on the largest frame in front of you. It was your first commissioned painting. And all around it were pieces you made throughout the years. You turned to Bambam with wide eyes. “Muse_ig?” He blushed, glancing to the floor as he rubbed at the nape of his neck shyly. “Yeah, that’s me.” “But…why?” You stood there in shock, unable to fully grasp the meaning of this room. Why was all your art hanging on his walls? Why was he calling this his muse? Why was is it Bambam of all people, the man you were told would always be ten miles ahead of you? “If it weren’t for you and your art, I wouldn’t be where I am today. You’ve always been my muse.” “I…what are you talking about Bambam?” You looked around the room again, flustered. “If it weren’t for you I would have stopped making art.” You stepped forward, hand brushing lightly against the frame that held your first piece. “I can’t believe you’re Muse_ig. I—we talked so much—you were the first person…the only person I had back then…cheering me on and telling me to keep making art. You were my first commission. I mean,” you flushed, turning to look at Bambam. “You were the reason I dropped out of college to pursue art fulltime.” Bambam’s eyes widened, his own cheeks warming. “Please don’t tell your mom that.” You broke into a laugh, knees finally giving out on you and you collapsed on the floor. Bambam smiled with relief at the glow in your expression as he took a seat next to you. “Are you really human Bambam? You’re not actually my guardian angel?” You chuckled softly, running your fingers through your hair. Bambam only smiled, placing a hand softly over your head as you gazed up at his wall, eyes shining with happiness. “You keep making my dreams come true,” you whispered. “You curated an entire gallery for me when it’s not even my project and now I find out you’ve been supporting my art dreams all these years. I don’t deserve this.” He shook his head in disagreement, inching closer. “Never say you don’t deserve things. You deserve the world.” You shook you head. “I owe you the world, Bambam.” He chuckled to himself, hand shyly resting over yours. “Or you could make me your husband. I think that’s equivalent to the world.” You giggled, hand tightening around his. “How about a kiss for now?” - [Masterlist] [Arranged Marriage AU Masterlist]

[squeakthemonkey]

Cherry Blossoms --Part two

Thank you so much for taking the time to read the first part and this. I have a third part in the works, just gotta put some elbow grease into it, and do have a plan in place to carry it on if it is wanted

as always please go and play the game, CHANGELING, this is based on and the future games in the works by @steamberrystudio​ it is awesome and the demo is out for the new game Guilded Shadows, which is perfect if you only want a peak into the writing style and game play.

Here’s Part 1 for anyone that wants to read it.

__________________Part 2_______________

Beth’s fingers absently tapped the table as she thought. The wizards at the agency were a lot more… stuffy. At least the ones that she met and she hadn’t met a lot of them, after all who wanted anything to do with someone like her, she knew that much even from home.

“So, what are we going to start with?” She watched as the handsome man slipped into the chair opposite her. He seemed far more relaxed than she expected, and though he was trying to hide it she could see the curiosity rolling over him. His eyes skirting around her a little before he focused on her.

“We can start with names. I’m Beth.” She raised the drink he had placed in front of her in cheers and slipped on it lightly.

“Merle.” He introduced himself to her his sly grin returning as he tried to hide his laugh, but he couldn’t help it. Her eyes had rolled back and she hummed as she drank the latte. “That good huh?”

“Mmm,” She hummed again. “So good, Merle,” She could tell she was trying way too hard, yet every interaction between them egged her on. That and she could feel the half truth in his words. He wasn’t using his real name here? Of course there were safety measures in his line so she played of her reaction as her drink. His curiosity spread over her like a wave, as well as the laugh at her reaction. “with all seriousness, most days these drinks give me the will to live.” She lent forward crossing her arms over the table. “Tell me, you put some thing on them didn’t you?” She wiggled her free fingers in a spell like motion and narrowed her eyes.

“No,” he chuckled again. “Just practice.” She took another sip of the drink and looked at him unconvinced.

“So Beth,” He matched her movements again the the magic sparking against her skin. The Orai danced again, a rainbow reflection around the room. “What do you do for a living? Must be bad if only drinks give you the will to live,”

“The agency,” She rolled her eyes and shook her head as if it explained everything. “I’m a… well I guess the closest thing would be a negotiator. The go between.” Merle nodded along. “Trying to keep everyone happy is a tough job, since nobody is ever happy. But got to play nice once in a while, right?” Beth cocked her eye brow. She had ask of The Murder at work, just office gossip and such, after all the agency played nice with them when the agency wanted something. She had thought of it like some strange wizard mafia set up yet was pleasantly surprised instead to find the coffee shop instead. While he was close he noticed the sweet cherry blossom again, however it didn’t seem to be as strong immediately around her. Perhaps it was an affect of the Orai and not some strange perfume?

“I know what you mean,” He answered lightly, careful about his wording, he knew all to well. “It’s heavy price.”

“But a good job,” She agreed. “Helps people, so perhaps a little worth it. Besides it lead me here,” She motioned the drink towards him and took another sip, delighting in the flavour again. Damn, they make good coffee. She took the break to look over the man, from the pinch of colour in his hair to the piercings. She could read the energy around him, he was clearly powerful, as was the rest of the cafe around him.

“but that’s not what we’re here for, after all, I have yet to give my side of the bargain.” Taking one last sip of the drink she placed the cup out of the way and opened her arms across the table.

Merle flashed his teeth in a grin yet he found a strange reluctance in giving her his hands. He was already giving in more than he should have done. Yet, he found himself doing so anyway.

Beth held back the electricity in her hands as the warmth of his came closer. She bit her lip slightly debating on telling him she could feel the call of his magic. It was warm and calming, smoothing almost like a vine curling up her arm. He was searching for his own answers. Instead of telling him, she let him search, focusing on her own as she flipped his hand between hers.

They were tucked away into a little crevice where nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, so she took the opportunity to up her game, very lightly drawing along the lines of his hand as she read them, she bit her lip lightly again as his hand shivered lightly in hers. He didn’t even notice he did it.

“So you read palms?” he asked. “Where did you learn that?”

“It’s just practice,” She said in a light voice, glancing up at him. “I taught myself, I used to have a lot of spare time of time on my hands. So I decided to read everyone else’s hands instead.”

“A hobby?” She nodded.

“hmmm,” Beth let the low sound out as she lightly caressed his palm. “It says here you come from a large family who you are extremely protective of.” She kept her eyes down, but remained cutely aware his eyes hadn’t left her. “You’re kind, despite adversity, but you tend to put duty above all but your first priority. Even if that means above yourself too.” She used her fingers to slide across his stretching them out and lifting his hand again closer to her face for a better look. She caught the grin in the corner of her eye as her breath fell against him. His palm started to get get hotter the closer she got.

“You know you’re craft well and oh… You’re powerful, and playful. Not only with your magic.” Beth raised an eyebrow, delighting in the chuckle she earned from him. “You’re a creator or would like to be, or at least very fond of... some art... hmm, music maybe? You like to laugh too, especially when others are in on the joke.” But as her eyes fell again a line caught her attention and she frowned, her thumb traced the line; her heart thumping sympathetically. He was lonely it read. Really lonely. She knew the feeling.

His spine tingled as he watched the change in her demeanor, the Orai around her blurred around the room, the buzzing slowed to a dull pace. They were connected to her feelings. He wondered what she had seen as the words seemed to refrain from leaving her. She softened her features instead her flirting behind the thoughts that flew past her head.

“You like being around people, but duty pushes them away, you push them away. Despite wanting to help them, you wont let them help you.” She almost wanted to hold his hand properly, to twist his fingers in hers as if she could provide him some comfort. She had to admit to herself that it was an endearing trait, even if he didn’t know it himself since he seemed to be a little surprised. His other hand was laid casually along the table. Beth looked to him for permission but took his other hand when he didn’t pull away. She placed them both in front of her, her eyes dancing along the lines of his story, feelings emotions he would rather keep hidden. Feeling the anxiety start to creep in between them she held back the truth despite the fact it made a pain throb in the back of her head.

“This is how you tell the future,” She switched her voice back to playful instead. She looked up for his permission again, his cocked head and narrowed eyes glad for the diversion she had gone to instead.

“Well, color me intrigued.” he nodded for her to continue, yet as she looked over his hands again she didn’t find much better. The lines connected and weaved to tell his story, However the lines also broke and splintered, span and circled. He was too entwined with magic to have something truly definitive save for one thing.

Heartbreak. Devastating heartbreak.

 Beth’s heart skipped a little. Perhaps she could help, which lines was it on again? she thought, running her thumb across it. Oh. The love line. So he was alone, and if he did put himself out there…

As if to give him some unseen comfort she covered the lines with her fingers, opening up fully to his probing magic searching for answers. She let him see her truth as if to hide his. He was so warm. So, so warm. It was strange. Normally she hated when others had to use magic on her, to feel them on her soul and in her heart. Even when she needed healing she opted to do so when it was only too much. But his she didn’t mind. His magic was as warm as his hand.

A few Orai bumped around her feet, Merle noted to himself, especially when she tried to hide whatever she had found. It was clearly something, though it bugged him a little that she clearly wasn’t going to tell him. But whatever it was had a profound affect on the Orai, they slowed their home making around the cafe, careful to their makers emotions acting more like guards than creatures of broken spirit. As she allowed him in to see what he searched for to, he was almost distracted from the Orai by the blinding light of her soul. It confused him even more the vibrancy and life energy of an Esper but… clearly not. Her soul as bright and open as it was to him hid it’s meaning. He almost wanted to back away from her, to go away and think about it all.

“So what do you see?” he asked after a moment , realizing the words had left him before he could stop them, he had meant a distraction but they fell out instead. “By the look on your face, i suspect Aiah is gonna kill me for what ever it is,” Beth shot her eyes up, she hadn’t meant to hesitate for so long. His face was still warm and inviting, calm as if he didn’t know what she had seen so she pushed it into the back of her mind. Perhaps if she kept an eye out she could help divert his path. She relaxed back, letting his hands go and grabbing her drink again.

“I see...” She bit her lip hoping the concern on her face played off as a feint. She broke out her smile again brightening the room and buzzing the Orai once more. “I see you giving me your number,”

The minute strain that had danced between them broke like a dam. He too fell back more relaxed as she soothed the awkwardness and drew his hands back towards himself, though as much as he wanted to go back into his space, found himself not entirely willingly to leave hers. Beth let the truth sink in. She would tell him one day, not this day however. A new resolve crept up her spine. Just like she had seen the worst magic could do to people and resolved to help them, she would try and help him to. He was kind, she knew that and didn’t deserve such a fate.

“I don’t know,” he said sucking through his teeth. “I don’t give my number out, the price to trade is just to high. You’ve also told me things I already know .”

“You don’t know my number,” His laugh broke the final bit of tension, as if it had never happened.

“Very determined aren’t you?” He cocked his head again but not put off by her tone, that she could easily slip back to flirting actually impressed him a little. Beth laughed, pulling her card and some cash out and onto the table from her wallet before pushing it back into her jacket. Her eye catching the way the sun caught the color in his hair.

“I prefer to get what I want.” Her voice was matter of fact. “Especially when they’re…” She drunk the sight of him again letting out a breath. “Definitely worth it.” His laugh was genuine, and he wasn’t one to be outplayed.

“And you? Are you worth it?” Matching his grizzle Beth lent forward once again, her movements just enough that his eye twitched a little to where she was guiding him. She took the drink in her hand, but waited a moment before holding it in front of her blocking whatever view had caught his attention and took a sip of her cooled drink.

“You have no idea.” Shameless! She thought desperately wishing her face wasn’t bright red as she said it. At least she found reward in the way just the tips of his ears turned the barest shade of pink, enough for her to notice. She watched as he took up the challenge leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He looked over her, instead of flirting outwardly, his revenge was too look over her again, agonizingly slow in all the right places. She would have normally felt embarrassed, flaunting so openly and letting him watch over her like this but instead it made her belly warm, daring her to out do him once again. Damn, he was good. Her eyes caught a flicker of blonde and green giddily peek around the corner. She wouldn’t have much more time alone.

“how about we make a new deal - well, actually more of a bet?” She suggested. “I’ve come here a lot but seemed to have missed you somehow.” even she was incredulous how she had done it. “So three times. We meet again three times, and if it goes well and you agree to it of course, I get your number,”

Merle remained a little apprehensive, but nodded to her terms before he could stop himself, after all this didn’t happen all the time. She gave him a sweet grin, picking up her things and shooting him a wink before he could speak and change his mind. Beth let out a breath as she passed him. What did she just do? It made her almost light headed with excitement. It could be nothing, She could not meet him again or he could say no, she knew actually she would smile and it wouldn’t bother her, she did come on a little strong, but she had to admit she was a little excited about it all. She’d never picked up guys at a bar let alone a cafe.

But maybe, just maybe, it could be the best thing she had done in a long time

_______________________________________

So yeah, please let me know if you want this to continue or you want something else? Also this i have absolutely no idea to flirt so for tumblrs sake i will state this is complete fiction. Either way, thank you for taking the time to read this little ditty. and again. go the play the game. please. it so good.

[stylesgalaxy]

mastermind; chapter 8

The next morning I wake up to unusual noises coming from the kitchen. I'm the only one who ever uses the kitchen so it's strange to hear someone else there before me. I pull myself out of bed and wash up in the bathroom before going to the kitchen.

Harry wears an apron and hums a tune as he's flipping pancakes on a pan. He's turns to throw the cooked ones on a plate when his gaze lands on me.

"Morning," he chirps.

"You're in a really good mood," I say, my voice croaky from disuse.

"Pancakes put me in a good mood. Here, sit," he demands, and places a plate full of pancakes on the small table. I comply and sit in front of the beautiful creation. He even went as far chopping fruits and arranging them neatly on top. He finishes up his plate before sitting with me and we eat together.

"Mmm, these are so fucking good," I moan, shovelling more in my mouth.

"Thank you, the secret ingredient is the chocolate chips," he says.

"Chocolate chips? We didn't have any chocolate chips."

"No you didn't, so I chopped up a few chocolate bars, I hope you don't mind," he replies sheepishly.

"It's okay, they went towards a good cause."

"There's a lot left over, we can melt them and dip strawberries in them," he suggests. I glance over at the bowl of chocolate bits and shake my head.

"No, leave them I have a better idea."

Harry offers to wash our dishes when we finish breakfast while I start prepping my ingredients for a batch of brownies. Harry may look happy but I know he's still upset about what happened last night so I wanted to make him my famous brownies—or Julia's, as he knows them to be.

Most of the things I need are already out because Harry was baking so I quickly whip a batch. While I'm mixing the ingredients, I worry brownies won't be enough and decide to cook another comfort food I know Harry loves: my mom's Beef Barley soup.

"What are you making? Are you making brownies?" burst Harry after he finished cleaning all the dishes.

"Yes," I answer with a smile.

"No way, I love brownies! Are they anything like Julia's? She makes the best brownies!"

"I, uh... yes. She taught me this recipe," I lie.

"Excellent, you'll have to teach me, too!"

"Sure. Do you have any idea what you want for lunch? I was thinking we can make... Julia's Beef Barley soup," I suggest.

"No fucking way. You know how to make that too?! Yes, please, that soup is the best thing that I've ever had!"

"Awesome. We'll just have to get started now because it has to go in the slow cooker and cook for a few hours."

He nods and pulls out an apron for me from somewhere.

"Where are you finding those?" I ask as he ties it behind my back. "I forgot I even got these aprons."

"Your kitchen is small, it's not hard to find things. And besides, I feel like I have to watch over you in the kitchen so you don't burn anything again."

I scoff, "Burn? Please, I've never burned anything."

"That's not what a little birdie once told me," he choruses. "It's okay you can admit it, I already know."

"I've never—" oh, right. I lied to him when I was texting him and said that I almost burned the kitchen down to excuse Julia's absence. "Okay, don't make fun of me."

Harry laughs, and I feel guilty.

For the next hour, we work together. He pulls the brownies out to cool while I gather the beef, carrots, onions, celery, barley, and other things I need for the soup. Harry helps me chop up the veggies and tells me stories of how he used to cook with his mother when he was younger. We joke and laugh more than we do work. I tell him about the ingredients I'm throwing in and why they're used. Despite stating he was going to watch over me so I don't burn the kitchen down, he was very attentive and obedient to everything I said. I was like the head chef and he was my sous chef.

We combine everything together in the slow cooker and I set it to cook for two hours.

"In a few hours, we add the barley," I tell Harry.

"What do we do now?" he questions.

"Now, we go sit because I'm tired."

We leave our aprons on the counter and plop down on the couch.

"Didn't realize how tired I was," Harry states, stretching his arms and legs.

"Feels good, though, doesn't it? I like being productive."

"Oh yeah, it's a good tired."

Harry's phone begins ringing. He pulls it out and I see Julia's name flash across the screen. He looks at me then answers the call, leaving to talk privately in Julia's room. In the meantime, I flick the TV on and flip through the channels.

---

Harry's been in there for a long time. I don't know what he's saying because he's mostly quiet, I only hope it's good. But it's been nearly two hours. So far, I've watched the second half of a Masterchef episode, a few Spongebob episodes, and now I'm watching Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

While Harry Potter gets his soul sucked out of him, Harry (Styles) opens Julia's door and walks out.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"Uh, yea," he answers, running a hand through his hair. "She said she was hurrying to get her last minute shopping in before leaving and it completely slipped her mind to let me know."

The scowl on his face tells me he doesn't deem this a good enough reason (neither would I), but still I try to help ease his mind.

"She did find out when we were getting ready yesterday. And she left right after she told me."

He nods. "It's whatever. What's done is done now, no point in moping, we have a delicious soup to cook."

I grin. "It still has a few hours left before we have to add the potatoes, carrots, and barely," I tell him, bringing the volume of the TV down.

"Then I think I'm going to go home and shower," he says.

"Sure," I keep my eyes focused on the TV as if I'm not sad that he's leaving. "You can stay home, I'll bring the soup over when it's ready and we can share it with the boys."

"That's not a bad idea, But call me to come pick you up, it's too heavy to carry on your own."

"Okay," I answer, letting my eyes flit over to his. He gives a cheeky grin and grabs the plate of brownies.

"I'm taking these now, though."

"All yours," I laugh, warmth spreading through me.

---

Harry and I have gotten too close.

This is a problem because Julia has been gone for four days and every one of those day, Harry hung out with me. Usually we'd see each other almost everyday, but hang out once in a while. I don't know why he wants to see me all the time. My guess is that I'm the closest thing he has to Julia here and he probably misses her. Regardless, it has to stop because when Julia returns and he goes back to her, I'm going to miss his presence. Not to mention, if Julia finds out how much we've been around each other since she left, it might rub her the wrong way.

Which is why I'm at the art shop right now getting trained on how to use the cash register.

Randy, my manager, was a cool guy and Zayn tells me he comes into the shop about once a week. He came this week to hire me and train me. I say "hire" and not "interview" because Zayn referred me to him and the second I stepped into the store and greeted him he said "You're hired."

I told my manager at the movie theatre that I need some time away from work to focus more on school when in reality I was keeping it as my backup job. To Randy, I said that I could work weekends and most weekdays because if he schedules me a lot, then I won't have to see Harry.

I feel guilty because I haven't told Harry I work at the art shop. The main reason I picked it up was because I needed to stop getting so attached to him and I also knew that the art shop was one place he wouldn't come to bother me. He hated it here and he wasn't comfortable leaving his car out.

On my third day at work, Harry calls me.

"Are you avoiding me? Did I do or say something?" he inquires.

"What? No!" I answer. No one is in the store except Zayn and I know he wouldn't snitch on me for using my phone while working.

"Are you sure? It's okay if you are, I won't be mad. I just want to know if I said something that upset you so I could apologize for it."

"Harry," I sigh, my heart melting. "You didn't do anything. I'm not avoiding you, I'm just working."

"You've been saying that but I went to the movie theatre today to see you and they said you don't work there anymore," he says sadly. Oh I can see why he thought I was avoiding him. It looked like I lied about working to not hang out with him.

"Yeah, I actually got a new job."

"No way! Where?"

"At the art shop."

Silence.

Then, "What?! At the art shop?"

"Yes, Harry," I pressed, "at the art shop, now what's your issue?"

I know what his issue is. He doesn't like how far it is, he doesn't think the area is safe, and he most definitely doesn't like Zayn. But I need him to realize he has no control over my life and what I do.

"N-nothing... nothing," he stutters. "I'm happy for you. Good job, Aria."

"Thank you."

I hang up after we say our goodbyes and turn around to Zayn, who was waiting for me.

"Sorry about that," I apologize.

"S'alright. I take it he wasn't happy you're working here?"

I roll my eyes. "He just doesn't understand that some people have to work more for money and that I'm not gonna get murdered on Lancaster and Mill Rd."

Zayn laughs, "I wouldn't be too sure about that." My eyes widen, people get killed here? "I'm joking, I'm joking!"

"You make a lot of killing jokes, should I be concerned?" I retort sarcastically. Zayn had a tough exterior but inside he was a giant softie and couldn't hurt a fly.

Zayn was actually the second main reason I picked up a job here. It would be fun working with him, and I really feel like with time he's someone I could date. I wouldn't mind dating Zayn, it would be fun and exciting. He's very sweet and kind—

So is Harry.

But Zayn is also has a passion for art—

So does Harry, now.

Well, fuck. It's hard to find reasons that make Zayn better than Harry but that was because I've loved Harry for two years and I've only known Zayn for a few months now. Sticking around Zayn should get me to think less of Harry and maybe then I can finally move on from him. It's evident that we could make a great match, I just need to give Harry less attention than I'm giving Zayn.

The rest of my shift is spent helping Zayn clean around the shop and reorganize the merchandise on the floor so everything is neat. We joke and laugh and as much as I want Zayn to take my mind off of Harry like he used to, it's almost impossible. After every story he tells, I think about Harry and what he would have done. After every joke he makes, I think about how Harry would have told it.

I'm fucked.

---

On the 22nd, Harry and Niall throw Louis a massive, surprise early-birthday party. We were all going to be away for Christmas with our families, but since Louis' birthday is on Christmas Eve, that meant we had to celebrate it earlier. He was busy with work and his new girlfriend to plan his birthday this year so it was Niall's idea for all of us to pretend like we forgot about it too.

I sent Eleanor (who I was more acquainted with now) a text letting her know the details and when to bring Louis home. As far as Louis knows, they're just going out for a date and then coming back to his.

5 mins away, she texts me.

"Everyone, stop!" I scream at the top of my lungs in the kitchen. "They're five minutes away!"

Harry scrambles to place all the candles on the cake, Zayn spins in a complete circle to look for something to do or someplace to hide, and Niall hurriedly tries to light the candles as Harry is placing them. The rest of our many guests are quickly looking for good hiding spots. I pull the box of matches from Niall's shaky hand, worried that he'll drop one.

I finish lighting all the candles as Harry picks it up and stands to walk behind the doorway into the living room, where he would be out of Louis' sight unless he comes out. Niall hands me and Zayn a confetti cracker, before we all run to the living room. He crouches down behind a chair closest to the doorway Harry is behind, while I pull Zayn down behind the other sofa.

Everyone is silent the second the front door opens.

"See that's where your wrong, Eleanor," Louis' voice fills the entire house. "The Hulk is obviously the correct answer because he's the strongest Avenger."

"Yeah, but between the two of them, Ironman can fly," Eleanor's sweet voice replies. Not nearly as loudly. They walk into the living room and I smile. "I'm thirsty let's go get a drink from the kitchen?"

"Sure, love. You can go sit if you want," Louis says walking towards the door to the kitchen. "I'll bring you some ice water—"

"SURPRISE!!!"

We all rise and cheer, cracking our confetti. Harry walks out with the lit birthday cake, and the rest of the guests, with a wide smile on his face.

Louis stares at us stunned, then gapes at Eleanor before blinking.

"You guys—" he stammers.

"Happy Birthday!" everyone says, laughing. Someone turns the party lights and the music on.

"It's not even my birthday—" Louis tries to say.

"Oh, just shut up and blow the candles!" Niall yells. Louis shakes his head and blows all twenty-one candles out. We cheer and clap again, throwing more confetti at him.

---

The party is a blast. Any party hosted by Niall and Louis (or this time it was technically Niall and Harry) is amazing. Niall makes sure there's drinks for everyone, while Harry runs around and cleans up after people. Harry loves parties, but not the ones in his house. I started to help clean up a little after the extremely drunk because I felt so bad for him.

I wanted to hang out with Zayn because the farther I am from Harry the better it is for everyone, but Niall was being too clingy tonight. Even though he knew I liked Zayn, he didn't leave us alone until I finally realized what this was about. Zayn got front row seats to my great show of wingwomaning for Niall. I chatted with a bunch of pretty girls who Niall (despite being overly confident all the time) was too shy to go up to. There was one girl in particular I like, her name was Chelsea, so I casually bring her forward to meet Niall and as soon as the two introduce each other, I run to Zayn.

Zayn has his arm around me the whole night. Either around my shoulders, or my waist. It was nice having him by my side to make fun of other people with. We were not as drunk as everyone else around us, just enough that we found the tiniest thing funny.

"I wonder how Harry is doing, I haven't seen him in a while," I wonder once we're sitting on the couch, searching for a mop of curly hair.

"Hold on, I think I know how to summon him," Zayn says. He pulls his arm away from my shoulder and reaches forward to grab a forgotten Dorito chip. He crumbles lightly it in his hand and lets the broken pieces fall on the ground.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" seethes Harry, popping up from nowhere. I slap my hand across my mouth to stop from laughing, while Zayn bites his lip.

"Sorry, mate," he says, with wide eyes. "Just blanked out for a second."

Harry shakes his head in distaste before reaching a gloved hand out to pick up the pieces and throw them in a small plastic bag that he's carrying around with him.

"Harry, why aren't you having fun? Drink something!" I urge.

"I can't, if this gets stepped on it'll be harder to get out of the carpet," he huffs. He picks up the trash left around on the coffee table too just before Louis shakily stands on it. He enthusiastically pulls Niall up too, and the two holler and sing along with the song, both holding red solo cups. Harry lets out a sigh and presses his lips together, but doesn't scold Louis at his own birthday party.

"Harry? HARRY!" the two very drunk boys yell and grab Harry's arm to pull him too. Harry resists, but the two boys won't give up.

"What's that?" he asks looking down at my still full cup.

"Vodka and cranberry juice," I answer, unsure of whether he was keeping up with how much I was drinking and going to limit me. I just made it a few minutes ago and didn't have more than two sips so far, I didn't want this Bossy Harry to confiscate it.

"Great, thanks," he says instead, taking my drink away from my hand. My jaw drops.

"YEAH!" Niall and Louis encourage Harry as he climbs on the table and downs the drink. His face puckers for a few seconds before he joins in the cheering and Louis throws an arm around his two best friends. Niall manifests another drink seemingly out of thin air and urges Harry to have it, but Harry shakes his head and pushes it away.

"No, that's enough," he says. "Happy birthday, mate." He claps Louis on the back and stumbles down.

I put my hand on my hip and look at him unimpressed.

"Hey, that was payback for stealing my coffee that one time," he grins. I shrug and look around, not changing my stance because I wasn't accepting his answer. Internally, I was thrilled. I hadn't bantered with Harry in so long.

Harry sighs deeply and places his arm on my shoulders. "Alright, I'll make you a new one. Would that make you feel better?"

I pretend to consider it for a few seconds.

"I guess," I huff. He smirks and pulls me into the kitchen by my arm without looking back. Startled for a second, I turn to wave Zayn over so he's not alone but Louis had already pulled him along with whatever else he was doing.

Harry clears the island in the kitchen and stands behind it, pulling out a glass and bottles while I take a seat across from him. He shows off by sliding a bottle of vodka from the cooler across the island, then walks over to it, pulls out a tall glass and flips in the air. He almost drops it and has to scramble to not break it. I snort and Harry's face flushes.

"Just pretend like that was smooth," he murmurs, not making eye contact.

I am not able to contain my laughter, so I let it out and Harry rolls his eyes at me.

He makes a big show of pouring vodka and cranberry juice in my glass, with his random twirls and tricks. I watch in mock fascination but I think at the beginning he doesn't get it, because he smirks like he actually impressed me.

"Wait, are you being sarcastic again?" he whines, his shoulder's falling.

"Sarcastic? Oh God, no. I'm truly fascinated, I have never seen the art of mixing vodka and cranberry juice performed so gracefully and elegantly—"

"Okay, okay, I kinda need my ego intact, thanks," Harry states while I snicker. He finally finishes making my drink and slides it across the counter to me a little too hard. I hurry to stop the drink before it spills all over me. "Sorry," he says sheepishly.

I take a sip and nod in satisfaction. "It's good," I compliment. His shoulder slump in relief and a smile spreads across his face.

"Hey, man, can I get a rum and coke?" A tall guy asks Harry, coming up behind me.

Harry's expression hardens.

"The fuck do I look like to you? A bartender? Make your own drink," Harry chastises. "And don't you dare spill a single drop or I will make you—"

"Alright, alright," the guy holds his hands up in surrender and walks away. I look back at Harry apprehensively but he has a shit-eating grin on his cute face. I shake my head and roll my eyes at him affectionately. I've missed Harry these past few days and I can't help but find everything he does endearing.

Harry's gaze is fixed on something behind me and I peek over my shoulder to find that he's staring at Zayn counting Niall's shots.

"So, how's your new job?" Harry asks, bringing my attention back to him.

"Great," I say too quickly. "Uh, amazing. It's really fun."

All I do is clean. And talk to Zayn if he's in. But sometimes we just sit in comfortable silence when we have nothing to talk about and just stay in our own worlds.

"Good, good," Harry murmurs. "Is the discount good?"

"Yeah," I smile, not going into detail on what I buy. "How are things with you?"

He's quiet for a long time. His eyes are distant as if he's deep in thought.

"Great," he repeats my answer back to me. "Um..." he struggles to spill whats bothering him. I sit up straighter while he fiddles with a bottle. "Uh, great, yeah."

"Something bothering you?"

He bites his lip then brings his thumb and index finger up to play with it. I don't think I've ever seen Harry this nervous. It makes me wonder what happened in the time that I stayed away from him.

"It's nothing... just my Christmas plans," he mutters.

"Oh. What are your Christmas plans?" I didn't know exactly what he was doing, I just assumed all of us were leaving to stay with out families for a week.

"My father's girlfriend wants us to go on a lame skiing trip," he complains with a roll of his eyes. My heart jolts. He's never talked to me about his family ever. Well not directly. Except for one time when he offhandedly mentioned his mother's death.

"Oh? That sounds fun," I say slowly. He looks at me likes he's having a debate in his mind. I wonder if he's battling whether or not to talk to me about what bothers him, and I find myself hoping he will. I want to help him but to help him I need him to open up to me.

"Yeah," he huffs eventually. "My sister is coming, it'll be fun to see her."

He begins to move around the kitchen moving random things and not looking at me.

My shoulders deflate, but I still smile. There's too many people in this kitchen anyway, I wouldn't want to talk about something so personal at this time.

***

Hi guys! Sorry if you feel like things are going a bit too slow, but I've just finished writing the next few chapters and some exciting ish things are going to happen! In regards to that, I have a few more questions for you guys:

1. What do you think Harry thinks about Aria?

2. What do you think Zayn thinks about Aria?

3. How do you think Harry will react when he eventually finds out Aria's secret? (I'm not even close to writing this yet, I have it planned but I'm dying to know what you think will happen!)

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading :)

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[jalalason-blog]

Clouis Oneshots - scares 

 Just some Clouis one shots. Some of them take place in the apocalyptic world, and others are AUs. Hope you enjoy them! Requests are OPEN, but know that there's no promises your request will be written. It all depends on how much time I have, if I like the idea, ect. Art on cover is not mine. Let me know if you know who created it! DISCLAIMER: I don't own twdg or it's characters.

Read on wattpad, A03, and fanfiction,net if you like words on those platforms better. 

~This one takes place in the apocalyptic world, some time after the final      episode~

The chilly winter breeze sent chills down Louis's spine, despite him being only a few feet from the little campfire.  He shivered and pulled his girlfriend closer to his chest, and she snuggled into him.

All of the kids sat in a circle around the heat, huddling together to keep warm.  The old couches and chairs that they sat on helped a little with the cold, acting as a barrier to keep the heat in.

They passed around a stack of cards, playing truth or dare in their odd little way.  Once the cards had made it all the way around, everyone flipped their's over to see who got to ask and who had to answer.

Clementine won, and Aasim lost.  Louis got déjà vu at the results.

"Ah, you two meet again," Louis spoke, talking as if he was narrating an old fairy tale.  "Last time, Aasim was forced to request a kiss from a girl he like liked, to which he was slapped.  What shall he have to do this time, your majesty?"

"Hmm..."  Clem voiced, squinting her eyes as she tried to decide.  "Maybe the same thing?"

"Aw, really?"  Aasim groaned, uneasily glancing down at Ruby, who sat next to him.  

The red head giggled, saying, "Don't worry, I won't slap you this time."

"Okay, then," Aasim said, turning to face her.  "Um, can I have a kiss?"

"You sure can," she agreed, getting up and pressing her lips to his.  Aasim's eyes widened in surprise, then closed as he pulled her face closer to his.

"Ewwww," AJ groaned.

"Nasty!"  Willy shouted.

The couple ignored them, their kiss getting more intense.

"Okay, you guys can stop now," Violet told them, wryly scrunching her face at the pair.

"Enough porn, you two!"  Louis proclaimed.  The couple snapped out of it, and they pulled away from each other.  Both of their cheeks were bright red.  "How about we do another round?"

The dread locked teen began to pass the cards around the group, chuckling as he saw AJ's cringing face.

When Louis said go, they all flipped their cards over again.  This time, Omar won and Louis lost.  

"Alright, Omar," Louis said,  "what's it gonna be?  A treacherous truth?  A deadly dare?"

"A dare that you finally won't be able to do," Omar claimed, wearing a smug smile.  

"No dare will ever stop me,"  Lou asserted.  

"Okay, then; go lick that yellow snow."  Omar pointed to a yellow spot in the snow you could just faintly see by the fire, unable to hide his mischievous grin.

"Ewww!"  The rest of the kids let out in unison.  Well, everyone except Louis.  He tilted his head at the color, actually debating on doing it.

"Who peed there?!"  Ruby asked, disgusted.  

"It was Rosie,"  AJ said.  "I saw her do it earlier."

Clementine backed away from Louis to look him in the eye.  "You better not do it.  If you do, I won't be kissing you for a week."

"But Clem, I have to," Louis whined.  "I haven't ever not done a dare.  I can't lose my title as dare king."

"Louis," his girlfriend repeated firmly, "Don't.  Do.  It."

Louis bit his lip, glancing over at the colored snow.  

"Don't do it," Clementine said again.

"I have too!"  Louis declared, jumping up from the couch he sat on.  He ran to the pile, got on all fours, and gave the snow a great, big lick.

All of the children let out sounds of disgust, and Clementine face palmed.  Omar's smug smile immediately dropped as he gagged.  Louis stood up proudly, wiping his mouth.

"I didn't think you would actually do it," Omar admitted, cringing.

"Well then you obviously don't know me well enough," Louis chimed.  He sat next to Clementine, and she scooted away from him.  

"Nuh uh, pee breath," she told him.  "I'll snuggle with AJ, who'll still get my kisses for this week."  Clem patted the spot next to her, and AJ happily crawled up with her.  The teen wrapped her arms around the tot and planted little pecks all over his face, making eye contact with Louis as she did so.  Her boyfriend pretended that this did not make him incredibly jealous of AJ's place.

"Worth it," he stated.  "I'm still the dare king."

"You won't be thinking that by tomorrow,"  Clem mumbled.

"How about we do another round?"  Ruby suggested.  The cards were all passed around again, and this time Violet won and Clem lost.  

"Victory Violet," Vi spoke, smiling.

Clementine sat up straighter, awaiting her truth or dare.

The blonde studied her, deciding on what to give her.  Finally, she said, "I think I'm feeling a truth this time."

"Alright," Clem voiced.  "Shoot."

"What scares you the most?  You know, scare as in makes you scream, jump, or whatever."

Clementine was quiet for a moment, pondering the question.  After a couple moments of silence, she admitted, "I don't know.  Nothing, I guess."

"Nothing?"  Louis asked dubiously.

"Nothing," Clem confirmed.

"Snakes?"  Louis pushed.  "Walkers?  Bad people?  Storms?"

Clementine shook her head to all of his tries.

"When's the last time you screamed because you were scared?"

"I don't remember."

"Well there has to be something that scares you,"  Louis claimed, crossing his arms.

"No there doesn't," Vi countered.  "She's a bad ass, and she's fearless.  What's so hard to believe?"

"Even bad asses get scared by little jump scares every once in a while," Lou stated.

"I just don't get scared," Clem said.

"I'll have you know, Clem, that I not only hold the dare king title, but ALSO the scare king."

"Okay..."

"So I'll make you a deal.  I scare you within the next 24 hours, you have to kiss me again."

Violet snorted, saying, "You really are desperate, aren't you?"

"Shut up," Lou told Violet.  Then he looked back to his lover.  "So what do you say?"

Clementine pursed her lips, debating on taking the deal.  "What happens if you don't scare me?"

"I don't know.  What do you want?"

The girl thought for a moment, before a mischievous grin spread across her face.  "I want to cut your hair."

Louis's hands flew up to his precious locks.  "No way!"

"Fine, then, I guess I won't take the deal."

Louis twirled his hair on his finger.  "Alright, fine, you can cut my hair if I don't scare you.  But I'm not worried about that, because I promise you, I'm gonna scare you so bad you'll pee your pants."  He stuck out his hand for Clem to shake.

Clementine took his hand in hers and shook.  "You better enjoy your hair while you still have it, Lou."

"How are you gonna cut it, Clem?"  Violet asked.  "I say you shave it all off."

Louis shot her a dirty look.  "Hey, have some faith in me, Vi!"

"I would," Vi said, "but Clem's pretty bad ass, and you're pretty lame."

"You got that right," Clementine agreed.

"I'm gonna go all out, though," Louis warned.  "All.  Out."

"Do it," Clem challenged.  "I can take it."

"Okay.  But you're gonna regret saying that."

Violet rolled her eyes, and the pair stopped shaking hands.  Just then, a large gust of wind blew, blowing the little fire out.

"And that's our cue to go inside," Omar asserted.  

The whole group got up to go inside. Louis scooped Clementine and carried her bridal style, and AJ picked up her crutches.  

As they walked back to their dorm, Lou went to give Clem a kiss on the forehead, but was stopped by her finger.  

"Nope,"  Clem told him, "Not until next week."

"I think you mean until after I scare you," Louis corrected.

"Mmm, nope.  Not until next week."

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

"How old was AJ when you taught him to shoot?" Louis asked Clem as she hobbled down the dirt path in the woods;

"Probably, like, three," Clementine estimated.

Louis's eyes widened. "You trusted him with a gun at that age?"

"Well, he actually kind of taught himself. He had seen me use it, and one day, I didn't see a walker coming, but he did. So he grabbed the gun and shot the walker himself. Right through the head, first try."

"I don't think I'll be that good," the dread locked teen said. He nervously eyed the weapon in his girlfriend's back pocket, and she noticed.

"It's not that hard," Clem assured him. "Besides, you've got the best teacher to teach you."

Louis smiled. "You're damn right I do."

The couple was heading towards a little makeshift shooting range, where Clementine would give Louis his first shooting lesson.  Louis was anxious about it, but he felt better knowing that it was Clem teaching him.

He had already tried multiple times to scare her in the morning, but none of his attempts worked.  Before Clem woke up, he hid in a box outside of her door to try and jump out and scare her.  When she came out of their shared room and he jumped out, she didn't even flinch.

At breakfast, he tried to make it look like he had sliced off his finger cutting carrots.  However, Omar was in on it, and he wasn't a very good actor.  The chefs giggling through Louis's very realistic screams of pain gave him away.

He tried another jump scare before they left for their shooting lesson, too.  He hid behind a tree close to their meeting spot for about fifteen minutes, before he gave up and came out.  However, little did he know that Clem saw him go into his hiding place.  She ended sneaking behind him and shouting, "Boo!"  Louis had nearly shit his pants.

So, in short, it wasn't as easy to scare Clementine as he had thought it would be.

As they walked, Louis fidgeted with the fake mouse he had in his pocket.  He had found it earlier while wondering around the attic.

This will get her.

"Hey, what is that?"  He questioned, going towards a little pile of dead leaves and snow.

"What?"  Clem inquired, turning to watch as he went.

Louis squatted down, sneakily slipping the toy from his pocket to the pile.  Then, he stated, "Eww, gross..."

"What is it?"  His girlfriend repeated.

"A DEAD MOUSE!"  Louis shouted, whipping around and throwing the mouse at her.  She just stood there and let the mouse hit her, and it flopped to the ground.

"Wow," she said, unimpressed.

"How did that not even gross you out?"  Louis inquired, disappointed his trick didn't work.  "What if it had been a real mouse?  What would you have done?"

Clem shrugged.  "I've had walker guts on me before.  Nothing seems grosser than that."

Louis sighed, feeling defeated.

"Aw, don't be sad, Lou," Clem cooed.  "I promise I'll make your haircut look good."

Almost immediately, his spirits were boosted back up.  "The day's not over yet, Clem.  I've still got time."

==

At some point, it started snowing, making their trip to the shooting range harder than it needed to be.  Louis, being the good boyfriend he was, made Clem wear his jacket.  She didn't want to at first, but he insisted that she needed to so she "wouldn't get frostbite and lose the other leg."

Even though Louis was shivering now, he felt content knowing that Clementine was nice and warm.

Eventually, they made it to the shooting range, and the girl began to teach right away.  She wanted to get out of the cold as soon as possible.  They both did.

"Okay, first, make sure you have a wide base," she instructed.  He obeyed.  "Good.  I'm going to give you the gun now.  Don't freak out or anything.  Just hold it."

She handed the foreign object to Louis, and he gazed at it in awe in his hands.  "Isn't crazy to think that this little thing has the ability to take a life?"

"Or save a life," Clem added.  "Which is why we're doing this."

Louis pointed the gun at the makeshift target, closing his eye and trying to figure out how to aim.  The weapon was only a few inches away from his face.  Clementine smiled, being reminded of Sarah by the way he did it.  She adjusted  him the same way she had fixed her old friend.

"Also, remember, it's just a thing."

"Just a thing," Louis repeated.

"The most important thing to remember is to take a breath before you pull the trigger," Clem taught.

"Okay."

Then, Clementine showed him how to aim, how to load the gun, see if safety was on or off, all that jazz.  Soon enough, it was time for Louis to actually practice.  

He stood just like Clem had showed him, pointing the gun at the old book she had posted up on a tree about ten yards away.

Louis took a deep breath to shoot, but when he went to squeeze the trigger, he couldn't get his finger to move.

The dread locked teen tried again, but still, nothing.

Clementine placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  "I know, it may seem scary at first, but after you just do it, it's not scary."

"Okay," Louis breathed.  "I can do this."

"How about on the count of three?"  

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay.  One, two-"

BANG.

The shot rang throughout the woods, making the few birds who remained scatter away into the sky.  You could see that a corner of the book was knocked off, and Louis smiled proudly.

Clem laughed.  "I never made it to three."

"But I did it,"  Louis said.  "I shot a gun!"

"Yeah, and you actually hit the book.  I'm impressed."

"It's too bad we can't celebrate with a kiss," Lou said, wriggling his eyebrows at her.  

"Yeah, too bad.  If only someone hadn't licked dog pee yesterday."

"I rinsed my mouth out!"  Louis claimed.

"Still."  Clementine gagged.  "That's disgusting."

Louis got back into shooter stance.  "Okay, I'm ready to go again."

"Whoa whoa whoa, slow down their, hot shot," the girl ordered.  "I've gotta take a piss.  And I don't want you shooting that thing until I get back."

"Ugh, fine."

"Once you earn my trust with it, you can shoot it whenever, but today's only your first day."

"Yes ma'am.  I won't shoot it until you get back."

"Okay."  Clem turned and started to hobble off on her crutches.  "I'll be right back."

Louis watched until Clementine walked out of his sight, then sat down on a little stump.  He traced the ridges on the gun and hummed to himself, until the low, deep groan of a walker reached his ears.

He looked up from the gun to see one of the dead slowly dragging itself toward Louis, half of its body frozen and stiff.  The teen glowered at the sight of the walker.

Reaching into his back pocket and grabbing his spare knife, he walked up to the walker, stopping a few feet in front of it.  The monster tried to speed up to reach him, but ended up just falling down because of his immovable side.

Louis actually pitied it for a moment, watching it lay there and struggle.  He took his gun and stood how Clem had shown him, aiming at the head.  

"Bang," he spoke, pretending the bullet had actually fired.

Suddenly, he got an idea.

Oh, that would scare the shit out of her.  If it actually works.

A mischievous grin spread across Louis's lips as he dug deeper into his new found prank.  "I'll be kissing her by the end of the day," he said out loud.

First, he took the knife and plunged it into the walkers head.  Once it was dead for good, he turned it over and cut open its stomach, like AJ had when they had to sneak onto the boat.

After that, it was time for the gross part.

"Do it for the kiss," he mumbled, trying to encourage himself to plunge his hands into the corpse's guts.  Without giving himself too much time to think about it, he dove his hands right in.  

Lou picked up a big glob of the monster's insides and smeared it on the side of his head.  He cringed as he added more, trying to make it look like a bullet had gone through his scull.  Then, he took the walker's blood and dyed a small patch of the snow red.  Once he was done, he dragged the body out of sight.

Louis didn't really have any reflective surfaces, so he could only hope that he did a good enough job on his head.  When he felt ready, he went and got on his knees above the pile of blood.

"Here goes," he uttered.  Then, he pointed the gun straight up into the sky and pulled the trigger.

At first, everything was silent.  Not one bird chirped, and no walkers moaned.  However, after a couple moments, he heard Clementine call, "Louis?"

He quickly laid his head down into the blood, but kept his eyes open.

"Louis!"  His girlfriend yelled again.  "Answer me!"  He could hear the panic in her voice.

He kept quiet.

Then, he could hear her crutches as they hit the forest floor, moving faster than he'd ever heard them before.  They were getting closer to him, and soon, he could just barely make out her outline.

"Louis?!"  Clem shouted.  "Where are you?"

He closed his eyes, but barely raised up his eyelids enough to see his girlfriends reaction.  

When Clementine saw him, she stopped in her tracks, dropping her crutches as her hand flew up to her mouth.

"No," she whispered.  "No, not again!"

The girl frantically hopped over to where his body lay, and Louis didn't move a muscle.

She got down on her knees letting out a sob as she inspected his body.  She took out the gun from Louis's hand and threw it to the side.

Lou had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from moving while Clementine gently touched the fake bullet wound on his head.

"W-why?" She asked, her voice breaking as the tears began to fall.  She pulled Louis into her lap, caressing his cheek and stroking her thumb across his dread locks.  "How c-could you j-just l-l-l-l-leave me?"

Okay, I didn't think she'd actually fall for it, Louis thought to himself, feeling guilty as his girlfriend wept over him.

"I n-need you, Lou!"  The distraught girl cried.  "God, w-what am I g-going to do?"

I should probably give myself up now...

Clementine took off her hat and threw it on to the ground, running her fingers through her hair.  "Why d-does this always h-happen?  Why do a-all the good o-ones fucking leave?!"

She laid her stump on the ground, and rested her forehead on her good leg.  Louis felt terrible as her body trembled, both from the cold and the despair.  

Clem reached down and grabbed Louis's hand as she sobbed, harder than she ever had before.  She brought it up to her lips, kissing it.  

"I should've b-b-been h-here.  I d-didn't m-m-make y-you h-happy enough.  I-I'm so s-sorry."  

She let out a little whimper that broke Louis's heart.

"It's a-all m-my fault."

Louis couldn't stand to see her like this anymore.  He wiggled the fingers of the hand she was cradling, and Clementine jumped back, reaching into her back pocket for a knife.

The boy sat up once he saw her reach back there.  "Don't worry, I'm not turning into a walker," He claimed, reading her mind.

Her eyes softened and seemed relieved for a moment, before they grew wide again.  She reach out to touch him, on his "wound."

Louis nervously rubbed the back of his neck.  "Yeah, that's not real."

"So y-your okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"And y-your s-still a-alive?"

"Yeah.  I'm not, like, a ghost, or anything."

As Clem realized this, her face hardened, and she sent the scariest death glare towards Louis that he had ever seen.  It felt as if she were staring a hole right through him.  

Louis went to say something, but was cut off by his suddenly livid partner.  "Y-you fucking a-asshole!"

She stood up on her one leg and began to hop towards her crutches, and Louis was quick to beat her to them to hand them to her. "Okay, I deserved that," he admitted.  "I didn't think you would actually fall for it, though-"

"You're s-so f-fucking stupid!"  She exclaimed, her stuttering from her crying still present, but not as bad.  "Who the h-hell does that?!"

"I thought you would see my attempt to scare you and laugh at it!"  He defended himself.  "I didn't think you would actually buy it!"

"Idiotic dick!"  She cussed.  "Bone head of the fucking century!"  

"Hey, I said I'm sorry!"  Louis said, a little surprised at how angry she was.  "I told you I was going to do whatever it took to scare you, and you said that was fine.  You were scared, weren't you?"

"Yes, Louis, I was scared fucking shitless.  I thought I fucking lost you!"

"Well I'm here.  And I'm okay."  He stepped closer and caressed her cheek, attempting to calm her, but it just made her even madder.  She jerked away from his touch.  

"I'm going back to the school, and don't you dare fucking follow me," she warned menacingly.  

She started to turn and walk, but Louis walked next to her, claiming, "I have to stay with you to keep you sa-"

He was cut off has Clementine reared back and swung herself on her crutches to send her foot flying into Louis's crotch.  A devastating blow. He groaned in pain, doubling over and holding his groin area.

"I can take care of myself," she growled.  Then, she started to walk off again, before stopping and turning around to tell him one last thing.  "Oh, and you know what?  We're through!"

"What?"  Louis asked through clenched teeth.

"This," she said, gesturing to her and then to Louis, "is over.  I don't need a boyfriend who makes me cry my eyes out just for fun."

"I already told you, it wasn't like that!"

Clementine ignored him as she walked off,  not looking back behind her.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Louis waited until sundown to go back to the school.  He was too scared to go any earlier.

He was frowned at by Willy at the gates, and got a disapproving look from Omar as he entered.  Aasim shook his head as Louis passed him, and Ruby glared at him as he went to the music room.  Even Rosie didn't come to Lou when he called for her.

Louis sat alone in the music room, trying to tickle the ivories a bit to clear his mind.  But anytime he would start a piece, he would get lost in thought about what happened earlier, and his fingers would hit some random keys and mess up the song.

Finally, he just gave up trying to play at all.  He ran his fingers through his hair, resting his forehead on the piano.

"Aw, shit," he mumbled to himself.  "I really fucked up."

"Yeah, you did," Violet agreed from behind him.  He turned to see his old friend leaning in the doorway, and he sighed and turned back around.  "So, I hear you got dumped."

"Yeah," he admitted.  

"How does it feel?"

"Glorious," he sarcastically replied.  "I love it."

"Well, you kind of deserve it," Vi opinionated.   "What you did was messed up."

"I know."

"What were you thinking, anyways?"

"That I wanted to kiss her so bad, and that I should give playing dead a shot.  I didn't think it would actually work."

"So not terrible intentions."

"No."

Violet came next and sat next to him, sighing.  "I already talked to her a little for you.  I said that you just do dumb things sometimes, to not take it personally.  But she [retty was pissed."

"Thanks."  Louis lightly pressed the lowest key on the piano.  The deep, dull town it let out pretty much summed up the way I felt.  "For talking to her, I mean."

"You should try talking to her," Vi suggested.  "Before she just gets madder."

"I've already been kicked in the balls once today.  I don't want her to do it again."

"That's a risk you gotta take if you ever want her to forgive you, Lou."  Violet stood up.  "And if you ever want her kisses.  That's why you did this whole thing, isn't it?"

"Yeah."  Louis played another note.  "I guess I probably should go and talk to her."

"Good luck," Violet wished him as she started to walk out.

"I'm gonna need it," he replied.

He caught their initials out of the corner of his eye, and the corners of his lips slightly raised as he recalled the memory he had at this bench.  For a moment, he forgot the situation he was in.  Then, as reality set back in, he stood up, a newfound determination filling him.

I have to fix this.

0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0

Louis made his way over to Clementine's dorm, freshly picked flowers in hand.  He rehearsed his lines in his head:  Clem, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have done that to you.  I just wanted to kiss you, so bad.  I can't wait a week!  I wasn't expecting my prank to actually work, either.  Please, please forgive me.

As he neared the room, he saw AJ walk out of it.  "How's it going, little man?"  Louis asked as he passed him.  

"Okay," Alvin Junior claimed.  "Where are you going?"

"To see Clem,"  the teen responded, showing him the flowers.  "How is she?"

"Mad.  Like really, really mad.  I left because I didn't want to be in there with her when she was that mad.  She's scary when she gets like this."

"Well, I'm going to fix her," Louis announced, walking toward the door again.

"Aren't you the one that broke her?"

"... I'm gonna make her better, okay?  Just, go play with Willy or something."

"O-kay," AJ said, rolling his eyes.  

Louis watched until AJ rounded the corner of the hall, then hesitantly stepped up to the door.  He raised his hand up to knock, but stopped right as he was about to do so.  "Don't fuck this up," he murmured to himself.  Then, he lightly rapped on the door.

"Who is it?"  Clem asked, the annoyance clear in her voice.

"Me," Louis answered.  

"Go away, Louis."

"But I have something for you."

"I don't want it."

"They'll die if I don't get them in something soon."

Clementine was silent for a moment.  "What is it?"

"Guess."  Louis leaned his head against the door to see if he could hear her reaction.

"No.  Leave."

"But Clem-"

"God damn it, Louis, just get the fuck out of-"  She was suddenly cut off, and Louis heard a loud thud.

Without thinking, Lou through open the door to find Clem on the floor, lying on her stomach.  He set the flowers down and bent down to help her up.

"Are you okay?"  He questioned, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.  

She jerked her arm away from him.  "I'm fine."  She grabbed hold of the bed and hoisted herself on top of it.  "I can get up myself."

"Did you forget again?"  Sometimes, Clementine forgot that she didn't have half of her leg.  She would get up to do something without thinking, and usually fell flat on her face.

Clementine didn't reply, and Louis took that as a yes.

Louis picked the flowers up from off the floor, and held them out to her.  "I got you these."

She glared at him.  "I'm allergic to flowers."

Louis faced dropped, and he threw the bouquet behind him.  "Oh."

They both just stared at each other for a moment, the uneasy tension making the boy uncomfortable.  Clementine took advantage of that, sending him a death stare.  "You can leave now."

Louis started to turn around, but stopped.  He faced Clem and made direct eye contact with her.  "I'm sorry."

"Okay."  

"I'm am so, so sorry," he repeated.  He sat down next to her on the bed, and Clementine scooted the opposite direction and up against the wall.  Louis pretended not to care, continuing, "I just couldn't stop thinking about how badly I wanted to kiss you.  And I also didn't think it would actually work!  I thought that maybe you would see me and just yell at me for shooting without you there."

"Well either way, it was stupid."

"Yeah, I know.  That's why I'm swallowing my pride and apologizing, Clem.  You know me; I can be fucking stubborn sometimes.  But I'm here right now, admitting to you that I was wrong."

The girl just stared at him.

"I'm also known to do stupid things, Clem," Lou added.  "You should know that by now."

"Stupid things lead to people dying, Louis!"  Clementine suddenly snapped, making Louis jump.  "Believe me, I know!"

Louis was silent, shook from her outburst.  She broke eye contact and stared at he bed, surprised by her sudden words, too.

"Sometimes, it's not even anybody's fault," Clem muttered, more to herself than Louis.  "It's just the universe, giving us all a hard fucking time."  She looked up from the blankets and back to Louis, her eyes misty.  "I was reminded of that today.  Stupid things happen all the time.  People who were happy do dumb things, and they leave me..."

Louis grabbed her hand, and this time, she didn't tear it away.  "Hey, I would never do that to you."

"Jane said that, too."  Her eyes took on a glazed over look, as if she wasn't really there.  In a way, she wasn't;  she was sucked into her memories. Back to when she found Jane hanging from the ceiling.  "But she lied.  Just like everyone else.  Left me and AJ on our own."  She closed her eyes, the memory painful.  "Fucking selfish."

Louis said nothing.

"That wasn't the first time, though.  Everyone in my life, they don't stick around for too long.  I don't know what it is, but every time I come into a group, they fall apart.  People die, friends betray... and it only happens when I show up.  I don't know, maybe I'm like a bad luck charm, or something."

"Don't say that," Louis scolded.  "You're the best thing that's ever happened to us."

"I've learned to never get too close to people," Clem continued, ignoring Louis's last comment.  "The only exception I made was to AJ.  Everybody else, though, I try to not get used to them.  But today, when I saw you in the woods..."  She took a deep breath to keep control of her emotions.  "I realized how much I let you mean to me.  How much I let myself I need you.  How much I let myself  love you."

Louis's stomach did a flip at the last sentence.

"I let you get too close..."  She bit her lip as a tear trickled down her cheek.  "If that had been real, Lou, I don't know what I would have done.  I was debating on killing myself, Louis..."

Upon hearing that, he scooted right up next to her and pulled her into an embrace.  She didn't hold back from him at all anymore.

"I've always been okay on my own.  But now that I've met you, I never want to be alone again.  And I hate you for that."  Her voice broke.

"It's love, Clem," Louis softly whispered, holding her tighter.  "One of the downsides of it is it turns our whole world upside down.  But it's worth it.  You don't have to be tough all by yourself.  You're not alone anymore, and that's good.  You don't have to push me away."

The teen girl let out a tiny sob, and Louis gave a gentle squeeze.

"Know that I'll never leave you, okay?  I won't hurt you.  I won't let anyone else hurt you.  You're safe.  It's okay to let people in now."

"Okay," she muttered into his shoulder.

Louis held her close, softly swaying back and forth to calm her down.  It worked, and she slowly stopped crying.  

After a little while, she pulled out of the hug and wiped her runny nose.  Louis wiped off her tear trails with his thumb.  

"I think I know what scares me the most, now," she claimed.  

"Oh yeah?  What?"

"Losing you.  Or AJ.  Anybody here, really."

"Well you don't have to worry," Louis assured her, wrapping an arm around her.  "I won't let that happen.  That's an irrational fear, with me around.  It's like you saying that you were scared of bunnies."

Clementine let out a small laugh, and Lou smiled.

"So... are we still broken up?"

"No," she stated.  "We're officially a thing again.  As long as you don't pull another one of your pranks."

"I won't," he promised.  "Never again."

Clem smiled at him, and her eyes fell to the flowers on the floor.  "Hey, can you get those for me?"

"I thought you were allergic," he spoke, getting out of bed and bending down to get them.

"No.  I was just mad at you."

Louis chuckled, handing them over.  Clem took them and inhaled deeply, satisfied with their fresh scent.  Then, he crawled back into bed, and Clem scooted over to him.  She snuggled into his chest, and he pulled her close.  Out of habit, he turned his head and planted a kiss on her forehead.  His eyes widened once he realized what he did.  "Sorry, I forgot I'm not allowed to yet.  Please don't kick me in-"

He was cut off as Clem planted a tender, passionate kiss on his lips.  At first, he was too startled to react, but once he processed what was happening, he kissed back.

After a moment, Clementine parted their mouths and went back to laying on his chest.  "You're allowed to kiss me now."

"Good," Louis breathed.  He glanced out the mostly boarded up window to see that it was dark already dark outside.  "Geez, it got dark pretty quick."

"Mhmm," his girlfriend replied, her eyes closed as she rested her eyes on Louis's chest.  

Louis smiled, whispering, "Goodnight, Clem."

"Night."

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

Louis gingerly stroked Clementine's hair as she drifted to sleep, quietly humming a made up tune.

He couldn't help but smile at how peaceful she looked.  

At some point, he fell asleep, too, a wide grin plastered on his face from admiring who he loved most.

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

AN:  well, there's that. hope you liked!

got any requests for another one?