#at first when I made the previous it inspired me to do his scruff for this day

[johnkrrasinski]

baby, just say yes

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 3,324

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings, inaccurate depiction of middle-age relationships (?)

Summary: inspired by taylor swift’s “love story” and a bit of bridgerton. james barnes was the son of your father’s rival. what happens when two star-crossed lovers fell in love? will their love conquer their families’ bad blood?

a/n: in honour of taylor releasing re-recorded version of love story, i wanted to write something inspired by it because i’m a sucker for fairytales (HA!) i wanted to post this on valentine’s day but it turned out to be longer than i planned. also, bridgerton might have influenced some of my writing. so enjoy! reblogs and comments are always appreciated. :)

The party was in full swing as the music enlivened the masquerade revellers in ball gowns and fancy suits. You stepped into the party in your best dress with your hair half pinned up in braids. You wore your fulgent jewellery proudly, not caring what anyone thought of your confidence. As the daughter of an aristocratic family, you never once had to worry about fortune or popularity. Your father was a powerful man and everyone knew and worshipped the ground you walked on. But really, you were smart enough to know that these people were merely a bunch of bootlickers. They wished to get close to you for your wealth and repute.

The ball that was held by your father bored you. You never really liked any of his associates. You were a naturally an introvert, you preferred to be alone in your room and read books or be with your dog. However, keeping up a good appearance, well your father’s appearance, was necessary to maintain the family’s name. So you had no choice but to get up, get ready and show your face.

You greeted one of your cousins, Bella, who had come all the way from France. She looked dazzling as always. She hoped to meet a rich husband in one of these balls, but none of them had been captivated by her enough to get down on one knee. Somehow, they always turned their heads to you even when you never displayed any interest in marrying any time soon.

People were chatting, laughing and drinking left and right, some were on the hunt for a match. A few men had come up to you and asked for a dance, you always came up with a reason to dodge them. So you ran to the nearest table to get a glass of champagne. A bit of alcohol could soothe your nerves.

And then, as if the world stopped moving and time froze. A man with short dark hair and navy blue velvet suit made an entrance to the ball. He folded his hands behind him and his walk displayed confidence and power. You couldn't see his entire face for he was wearing a mask but even with only half of his face was shown, you could already tell how handsome he was. The scruff on his lower face added to his sex appeal and there was a mysterious way about him.

He walked further into the ball until his eyes found yours, and it was like the butterflies in your stomach had been possessed. He boldly made his way towards you until you were standing face to face. You could make out his features more clearly now from this proximity. You couldn't help but instantly noticed his eyes; how translucent it was, not only in the colour but also the way it spoke to your soul wordlessly. And the blue in them made you think that God created him and inspired the ocean to seize the colour. And his smell was intoxicating. He had a masculine scent to him, filling up your thoughts with obscene scenarios. It piqued your curiosity about the man behind the mask.

You were a respected woman despite your age. Not only because of your family’s power but also because you carved out your image as this ‘untouchable, implausible’ lady to any man. It would take a true magnetic man to charm you and so far, you haven't crossed paths with one yet…. Until tonight.

He broke the silence first by greeting you, “hello there, milady. Quite a warm night, isn’t it?” Oh, how his voice was making you feel things you’d never felt before. Is this what love at first sight felt like?

“Yes, milord. It truly is.” You replied in a calm manner despite the hurricane inside you.

The orchestras began playing a lively tune, inviting men and women to pair up and dance. He held out his hand for you, “may I have this dance, milady?”

He led you to the centre of the ballroom. He stood in line with other men facing their partners. They bowed their heads and so did you with other women. They held out their hands for their partners to take and began putting their hands on their partners’ shoulders and waists.

You held your breath as he laid his hand on your skin, closing the distance between the two of you. He began to take the lead as your feet were moving in sync, trying not to step on him. You had taken dancing classes before but you almost never danced in the ballroom, so you were a little nervous about forgetting the lessons you had learned in front of this beautiful man.

“I never caught your name, milady.”

“I never caught yours either.” You snarked.

“I asked you first, milady,” the smirk on his face showed his amusement.

You chuckled, “My name’s y/n.”

“Such a lovely name for a lovely lady.”

“Oh, please. Cut the coquetry, milord. Plenty of men have told me that before.”

“Oh, have they?”

The choreography made you switch partners and you danced with this stranger. He looked delighted to have a chance with you but you merely smiled politely at him, until they switched back to your previous partners.

“Did that man tell you the same thing?”

“No, but I could tell from his expression that if we had danced a little longer, he would’ve found a synonymous flattery for me.”

“Are you used to having men throw themselves at your feet?”

“Yes, milord. I eat it for breakfast.”

You danced with him a little bit more until he spoke a hushed tone, “this party bores me. Would you like to meet me in the garden once this dance is over?”

“That would be splendid.”

The dance was finished and you bowed to each other and he kissed your gloved hand. “I’ll see you in the garden in 10 minutes.” He walked past by you, brushing your shoulder with his. You turned your head in his direction, deciding whether you should hold onto your words or not. But without much thinking, you took a glass of champagne and then snuck out, avoiding your parents’ scrutiny.

You found him standing there with his hands behind his back in the middle of the garden where flowers surrounded him, making the sight seem romantic. “Are you expecting someone, milord?”

“Not anymore,” he smiled. “I’ve persuaded you into a clandestine meeting, seems like I am winning the game.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, milord. I sneak out to the garden every day. Which reminds me, I didn’t quite catch your name back there.”

“My name’s James, milady. But, you may call me Bucky.”

Your furrowed your brows in a questioning look, “Bucky?”

“Yes. My mother bestowed me that nickname and the people that are closest to me call me Bucky.”

“Hm, is this another of your flattery that I get to call you ‘Bucky’?

“Yes, milady. I don’t take a lot of women to the gardens as well, so you could say you’re pretty special.”

“Let’s see how tonight goes and I will know.”

You and James talked some more. He told you stories about his family and you told him about yours. He also opened up about how his mother died. Though he looked dejected while telling stories about her, most of the times he was charming, with and clever, making you feel at ease in his company. You had met plenty of men but none of them had made you feel as comfortable as James did. He made you laugh several times with his jokes and you exchanged thoughts about social issues such as marriage, love, children with him. You always thought you’d never marry or perhaps you’d marry in your thirties or forties but it seems as if your heart is tossing away those ideas.

You were really enjoying your time with him that there was a moment where it was just the crickets and your soft breaths. You laid your head on his shoulder as his warmth engulfed you. You nearly fell asleep until the voice of your father disrupted your moment. “Y/N!” The sounds of footsteps were approaching and then your father’s incensed face came to view. “Y/N! What do you think you are doing?!”

“Father, calm down, I was merely promenading with James.”

“Milord, forgive me. I asked for your daughter to meet me in this garden. Please, don’t rebuke her.”

“You shut your mouth, young man. I know who you are and I would never let you lay a hand on my daughter, ever again. You should be ashamed o yourself.”

“Father, what are you so furious about?”

“Don’t you know who he is, y/n?!”

“No, who is he?” You looked at James then back to your father. James looked shocked at the intrusion.

“He is the son of that bastard, George Barnes. I had told you many stories about the lies and betrayals they did years ago. I would never forget them.” Your father enunciated those words as he stared into James’ eyes.

“Is that true?”

James looked doubtful, “yes.”

You felt dizzy. The first man that had truly captured your heart was the son of your families’ number one rival. It was as if the world didn’t like the idea of you finding love.

“Y/N, I swear, on my mother’s grave that I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were-”

“You stay away from my daughter! Do you hear me? If I ever see you anywhere near her, I will kill you with my own hands.” You father grabbed your hand then dragged you back to your carriage where your mother had been waiting for you both.

You tried to free yourself out of your father’s grip but it was to no avail. You looked back at James who was still standing there one last time before the carriage took you away. You cried all the way home.

-

It’s been three days since the debacle in the garden. You didn’t regret one thing about your feelings, but you blamed the universe for the circumstances. Out of all the people in the world, why must the man that you’d been waiting for was the one you couldn’t be with?

You missed James. You missed the warmth of being in his arms, the gentleness in his eyes and the way his voice soothed you. You wanted to see him more than anything but since that night, you begged your parents to let you see James, you fought tooth and nail to make your father change his mind, but all you got was being locked in your room after you threatened them to run away from home. They even went as far as hiring a guard to stand in front of your bedroom all day.

You sat by your window, looking up at the moon in your nightgown, wondering if James was thinking of you too until your reverie was disrupted by a knocking sound on your window. You instantly looked down to see what was the cause and the sight before you blew away the dark clouds above your head. James Barnes was standing below, with pebbles in his hand.

He smiled when you saw your face and you opened your windows, “James! What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you, of course. Are you able to come down?”

“I’ll try, but be quite okay? Don’t let anyone see you.”

You opened the lock of your door as quietly as possible. It was nearing 2 AM and the guard was snoring in his seat. You minded your steps like a ninja, not wanting to cause any noise. You held your breath when he stirred in his sleep but he thankfully he didn’t wake up. So you sprinted downstairs under the darkness of your mansion.

You quietly unlocked the door of the main entrance and immediately ran to the backyard, where James was waiting for you.

“James!” You shrieked. The joy in his face was palpable, so did yours. You ran to him, lifting your nightgown so you wouldn’t stumble and jumped on him and he caught you.

“I’ve missed you, princess,” James whispered breathily while hiding his face in your shoulder.

“I’ve missed you too. How did you know where I live?”

“I got connections. I’ve spent the last three days endlessly thinking of you.”

“I haven’t thought of anything else other than you too, James.”

He smiled then kissed you deeply, pouring all his longing in the last three days for you.

James took you to the outskirts of the town and you walked hand in hand, wandering around in the night. You talked about the history of your families and how your father wouldn’t let you go out alone knowing that you would try to see him and he told his father about you and what went down in the garden. You sighed, knowing that there was no chance for you and James to be together but then a fleeting thought came.

“Let’s run away,” you recklessly uttered.

“What?” James heard every word you said, he was just taken aback by what it meant.

“Let’s just… Get out of here. We can leave at midnight, I’ll pack up my things and we can be together.”

“Y/N, we can’t.”

“Why?” You were exasperated. “Don’t you wanna be with me, James?”

“I do, however, I can’t do that to you, my love. It’s too dangerous. Your father is a powerful man, I can’t imagine what he would do to us both if he found out.”

“We can, we just have to be careful! C’mon James, I’ve felt so alone my whole life until I met you. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

“You won’t, darling. I promise you. I’ve got plans, okay? You just need to trust me.”

“Okay, I trust you.”

-

It had been a week since you last saw James and you were losing faith every day. You had no clue of what James was planning to do. You trusted him but you wished he had been more clear of his intentions. Now, all you could do was wait for him in silence, unable to do anything, like a kite in the wind.

“You haven’t touched your food, dear. Is everything alright?” Your mother asked from across the dining table.

“Yes, mother. I am simply not famished.”

“Eat some of your food, will you? I’d hate to see you ill.”

You wished you could sneak behind your father to vent to your mother about your feelings for James, however, you knew that your mother was loyal to your father and there was no secret between them. You used to hope that one day if you’d ever find a husband, you would have the same foundation in your marriage as your parents had, now you would be delighted if they announced their divorce so you could be free from your father.

The majordomo interrupted your dinner by informing that you had a couple of guests. By the look on your father’s face, you could tell that he wasn’t expecting any tonight, but he got up to welcome whoever was waiting outside anyway.

You heard your father’s booming voice from the dining table and you and your mother exchanged glances. You instantly followed him to see what was going on.

“You dare to show your face here after I’ve warned you of staying away from my family!”

And you stopped in your tracks when you saw James standing next to an older man facing your father. “James…”

“Y/N…” Without a second thought, you ran to him, wanting to hold and kiss him more than anything. For a second there, you forgot everyone was watching. But your father caught you and your guard held you back.

“Let go of me!”

“Now I want you out of my land and never to return or there will be a huge consequence.”

“I am here to make peace. My son told me about your daughter and I wasn’t keen on the idea of uniting our families but I am willing to try for him. Let’s end this bad blood between us, Robert. We shall not let our children suffer simply because of our pride.”

“I’d rather die than to let my your bastard of a son touch my daughter.” Your father gritted through his teeth. “Now leave or you will be removed forcibly.” Your father turned around but before he could close the door on them, James stopped him.

“I’m in love with your daughter, Sir Y/L/N.” That stopped your father in his tracks. “I have met many women yet, I have never felt this way for anyone,” James gazed into your eyes.

“In the last two weeks I have known her, I have learned that you raised a bright, courageous, loving, beautiful woman,” he paused, as if he was trying to show you the sincerity behind his confession. You didn’t realize tears have welled up in your eyes.

“From the very moment I saw her in that ball, I knew I’d live in regret if I didn’t catch her name before I leave. Your daughter stood out like a diamond in the dirt and it was an honour to held her hand while dancing. It was an honour knowing her. And it would be an honour to have her by my side until the end of my life,” He paused. “I know I am undeserving of your daughter but I will never let her doubt that she is loved and she deserves everything good I could offer.”

A single tear cascaded down your cheek. “So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He moved closer toward you, and your father was left speechless by James’ words. James got down on his knee and presented a velvet box with a gleaming diamond ring inside it.

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes, thousand times yes.” James put the ring on your finger and you jumped on him and he caught you. For a minute there you forgot that there was still an unresolved animosity between your families, though your mother had a huge smile on her face and she nearly teared up at the sight of her daughter being so in love. George Barnes was smiling ear to ear as well, looking so proud of his son.

He thought that with his son’s reputation of being a rake, he would never settle. But he finally found his match and though he didn’t take it so pleasantly at first, James talked it out to him and George learned to be happy and accept it. George recalled the moment he fell in love with Winnifred, she didn’t come from an aristocratic family. She was merely a singer and his family didn’t approve but he opposed them and married her anyway until they had James. George also hoped that their marriage could end the bad blood between him and your father.

James set you back on the floor and you looked at your father. “Father? I love him and I may never fall in love again. Please, let me be with him. If you love me, you won’t stand in the way.” Your father was baffled, but the resentment in his eyes had softened. “Do you really want to spend the rest of your life waiting for me to find someone to marry and keeping enemies? I’m marrying him whether you approve or not. But I wouldn’t want you to be absent from my wedding.”

Your father sighed, “are you happy?”

“More than I have ever been.”

“Then I suppose, I shall put my pride aside for the one person I love the most in the world.”

“Thank you, father.” You hugged him and he kissed the top of your head.

You grew up being cynical toward fairytales, but for once in your life, you believe that you have found your fairytale ending.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes medieval au #bucky barnes royal au #bucky barnes royalty au #prince!bucky #romeo and juliet au #romeo & juliet

[snippychicke]

Swedish Shorts-- Four

If Anyone has prompts, feel free to drop me a line! This one was inspired seeing Axel move in the hall fight. Oscar's actor, I know, likes heavy metal music, which inspired the club scene, and I just love a soft!Otto.

Theme: Dancing

Warnings: None? 

Part One|Previous 

-Axel-

Slow dancing. Tangos. You were convinced Axel had far more grace than any human should. He was like a sleek prowling tiger in human form as he moved with the music seamlessly. Seeing him put the elegance and power into dancing always made you feel a little...distracted. 

You would happily watch him move for hours. Except he seemed to think that you could dance, which in comparison to him, you felt like a stumbling bull in a china shop. 

"Quit," he chided as you glanced down at your feet again. You looked up to meet his gaze. How could he be so confident about his movement? Make it look so fluid? "Relax."

"Easier said than done," you grumbled. Still, you tried again to stay focused on your partner and not your movement. 

But your mind drifted back to worrying about the next step, and where your feet were in relation to his, and--

Axel's lips brushed against your ear as he pulled you closer. "Don't think. Feel." His words were low and seductive, and you could feel him move as he held you this close. You closed your eyes, resting your head against him as you let him guide you. 

Maybe this wasn't as bad as you thought. 

                                                         -----

-Oscar-

The club was booming. Multi-color lights were flashing to the beat of the music, the bass drowning out anyone not screaming more than an inch away from your ear. The exact opposite of a place Otto or Axel would choose, which you suppose why Oscar had decided on it to 'hide' from his brothers for the night. 

Not that you were complaining. Not with alcohol and adrenaline flowing through your veins, mixed with an easy amount of lust as Oscar held you close, his body moving against yours. 

You felt like an average person. Out for a typical Friday night. With an utterly normal date. It was actually kind of nice.

But everything came to an end when some idiot with more muscles than even Otto set eyes on you and dared to wrap a hand around you to pull you away from Oscar and closer to him. You could see the flare of jealousy and anger in Oscar's face before a devious expression settled on his lips. 

That was all the prompting you needed before you plowed your elbow into the man's gut. Oscar grabbed him by the scruff of his neck when he doubled over in pain and threw the man face-first into the floor. People barely noticed, except for the man's friends, who decided to step in as well. 

Time for a different kind of dance.

                                                            ----

-Otto-

Quiet music drifted from the radio and filled the silence of three am. You had one of the cats in your arms, its purrs rumbling against your chest as you padded barefoot in the kitchen, dancing. Everyone else was asleep, so you weren't the least bit self-conscious as you sang softly along, your attention focused on the cat. 

Until you turned and found Otto, still in his nightwear, watching you with an amused expression. 

"You scared me!" You said after a moment, holding the cat closer. "What are you doing up?"

"Missed you," he explained simply as he walked over towards you. He took Poyo from your arms, letting the cat down on the floor before stepping close, wrapping his arms around you. You smiled as you leaned closer into him, your fingers threading with his while you rested your head on his shoulder. You could hear the slow, steady tempo of his heart and allowed it to guide your feet. 

Otto started to sing something softly in his native tongue, just soft enough for you to hear. You weren't sure what he was saying, or what the song was, but it still made your heart pound as you pressed tighter to him.  

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua swedes #fanfic #the swedes #tua otto #tua oscar #tua axel #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy swedes #the swedes oscar #oscar/reader #the swedes otto #otto/reader #axel/reader #the swedes axel #Fic: Swedish Shorts

[wolfstarlibrarian]

Dear librarian, can I ask you for some more pining Remus? I kind of, errr, read all the fics you recommended on this theme already. There just isn’t enough fics on this out there 🥺

Of course friend! Thankfully, there is always more lovely pining Remus being written.  Links from previous lists that also include a pining Remus are listed below as well. 

Pining Remus Oneshots

Wolfstar Pining Fics

Wolfstar Pining at Hogwarts Fics

Pining Remus 2

Je veux être aimé (I want to be adored) by @kattlupin

From the moment Sirius Black arrives at the Lupins French Countryside Villa, Remus Lupin’s life is forever changed as he navigates what it means to fall in love for the first time. Je veux être aimé (I want to be adored) is heavily inspired and adapted from André Aciman’s Call Me By Your Name

Cupid Disarmed by Chromat1cs

Remus Lupin has Veela blood, Sirius Black reads trite romance novels, and neither of them are quite sure what the fuck to do with their hands when they get to talking with one another.

Be My Baby by @remus-john-lupin

It’s the summer of 1963, and 18 year old Remus Lupin discovers dance, love, and even himself. (A very romantic and very gay Dirty Dancing AU.)

What's up star boy by @weird-fangirling-persona

Remus is forced to attend a mixer blind date and he is not amused. Until he meets a certain witty, long-haired star boy. Inappropriate innuendos ensue.

We Will Fill the Cracks Together by giwi

Remus works in a library and at his parents pub in a small, Welsh town. Sirius Black is doing his PhD on werewolves and comes to a small, Welsh town to do some research.

All You Need Is Luck by @kikacat

When Remus gets luck on his side, he never imagines it could finally bring him Sirius.

Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers by @poppunkpadfoot

The customer standing in front of him is quite possibly the most beautiful man Remus has ever seen. Like, he looks like a model or something. He has long, black hair, flattened by water, and just the slightest amount of scruff on his face, and…And a baby strapped to his chest. Okay.

Born Under Punches by orestesfasting

The truth is that he’s kept this love on the back burner of his heart for so many years that he’s grown accustomed to the smell and can sometimes almost ignore it completely. He likes to think he’s made peace with the fact that he’ll never know what it tastes like.

Reunion by Evandar

They'd been friends in school: the cocky Slytherin and the shy Gryffindor, and for twenty years Remus has kept the notes they passed as proof. An unexpected reunion in Flourish and Blotts, however, could prove to be the start of a new chapter.

#wolfstar #pining #remus lupin

[beni-draw-ikemen-please]

EYES NOSE LIPS CH 4

EYES NOSE LIPS CHAPTER 4 - DON’T 

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR X FEMALE PREFECT

Rating: Mature Readers (no smut yet)/ Fluff 

Word Count: 4,072

You can read the previous Chapters below:

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3 

CHAPTER 4 — DON’T

“Ever since I was born, there’s been an immovable stone on top of my head. No matter what I do — I’ll never be king. Even if I studied all of the magic in the world and master them  — to be king? — Never. Just because it’s an inevitable force as the order of your birth — life’s not fair.”

A lavish lifestyle with no real responsibilities rendered Leona to be a slothful prince. His role as second prince of the savanna and his line of kinship was a vignette — completely disappearing as soon as Cheka, his nephew was born. 

The moment Leona discovered his curse was when he finally understood what his gift was. His small hands held valuable tapestry, stones, and fruits born from the rich lands but they all turned to sand. A prince of the savanna, whose magic was to turn everything, even human beings and fellow beasts, to sand — he’d been feared even by his closest retainers. The fertile lands feared long dry spells, and he was one to instantly cause it. He could hear the giant murmurs and the whispers of disgust. If he wasn’t a prince, he would have been exiled or executed. 

Leona loved his older brother, Farena, with all he had. He was a thunderous presence, admirable strength, and like the sun, a source of warmth and inspiration for all. 

And there he was, the second son. Leona felt himself as a small and dark dot slithering towards the bright gradient of pink and orange that was a sun in the horizons of the savanna. A long road ahead of him, and looking back, there were only shadows and thorns. His shadow grew further and further away as he walked towards the bright source of light. Beneath his feet was dust and sand — the vestiges of his curse. Once they were living, now no more under his hand.

He could hear his older brother call out to him. An echo that haunted him every night. The echo that hummed him to sleep each night. The warmth that fed his cold. 

****

Leona barely saw the prefect in the last two days before the Ramshackle Dorm handover. He attended class, much to everyone’s surprise, barely absorbed in any lesson though. And yes, he was relieved to be praised by Trein for coming to class, but this time, his head was filled with thoughts of the prefect. The exterior hallways never changed, in the hundred years that Night Raven College stood, very little things changed. And in his three years there, the deep green carpets that extended like eternity didn’t impress him one bit. They were a boring sight. Nothing new. His brows knitted in boredom.

“Where is she now?”

“Club activities? Since when? I thought she was busy with chores in Savanaclaw and especially making food.”

“To think she would have time for club activities.”

Leona lazily scratched his right eyebrow, whilst fighting the urge to sleep through last periods. After class, he will have Magift training; being the captain, he needs his energy every single day. Magift training was something he never missed. But ever since they slept together, his focus was now somewhere else. 

The night before, he allowed himself to fall asleep with Asami happily atop his bed.  Not that they did anything strange, no. He would recall the moment when he awoke in the middle of the night. His own restlessness jerking him up from his slumber. Someone else’s hands and arms wrapped around him that night. Was he dreaming? 

He opened his eyes, and as they adjusted to the darkness of his room, he recognised the events of the previous afternoon. Asami lay on her side, her one leg clung to Leona’s. Her arms wrapped around his torso, practically hugging him closer to him, if there was any other chance to be closer than that. Her dark hair filled his favourite pillows — burgundy and mustard yellow. 

He couldn't believe he actually slept in his clothes. And as his eyes hovered over Asami’s sleeping figure, he could slightly peek under her skirt that was now lifted by their shifting sleeping positions. She wore black tights so there was really nothing to see, but the thought of her sprawled on his bed, made it almost impossible for Leona to fall asleep. 

He, in fact, stayed awake — the whole night. Just watching her. Just resting there, limbs tangled with hers. He had zero regrets staying where he was. He listened to her breathing, as he did before he fell asleep. 

When daybreak came, Leona pulled himself off the bed and took his time to sober himself up from the drunkenness of being in her embrace. 

He wanted so badly to be around her more often. 

He started wanting to be around her?

When morning came, he felt fine. When she woke up just as he was drying his hair, he was glad to have that stupid towel on his head. He could at least cover his face. 

Leona Kingscholar wanting to hide his face? It was a thought that made him scoff. But when he looked at the prefect, there was no fear in her eyes. No fear, but worry. How worried she looked as she searched his face for unknown answers formed a dry lump on his throat.

Why does she look so worried about me? When she needs to worry about herself?

Leona didn’t understand it. How casually she walked behind him on the way to the Savanaclaw mirror. And how, despite the intense blush on her face, she stayed closed as they passed through. And, as he was about to head towards the third year hallways, the way she called out to him made the hairs on his nape tingle a bit. 

*****

“You sleep with Ruggie—” Leona blocked the way to his room as Grim attempted his daily retreat. 

“Why?! We— we still have tonight and tomorrow!” Grim pushed him with his soft grey paws in protest. 

“But you can sleep with Ruggie. He’ll prep a meat platter for you—” Leona’s haughty offer was truly tempting for the small grey monster. But Grim was undoubtedly tired from the past two weeks. And he really just wanted to rest. 

Leona kept his stance, calling out to Ruggie as he dodged Grim’s attempts to push him away. 

“What about my minion? Where will she sleep?!! Don’t tell me, with Ruggie or Jack!” Grim was angry, the blue flames of his ears burning brighter with every word. Leona let out a sordid laughter. 

“What do you mean? The kitten will be sleeping with me—” His relaxed countenance made the furs on the back of Grim’s scruff stand up. Leona’s bloodthirst emanated from that smirk.  And Grim knew better than to stand up to the king of beasts. 

“Hunyaaaa—!!!!!!!” Grim jumped, protecting his tail, and Ruggie carried him off by the scruff.

Leona waited. His arms tucked under his head, he waited while relaxing atop his bed. His eyes glued to the doorknob. He wasn’t really sure what would happen, what he would say or what would be the offer when the prefect returned; but he waited for her return. Restless turning and shifting. His ears twitch every time he heard footsteps passed by the hallway leading to his room. 

Leona clicked his tongue. Where is she? 

She’s supposed to be back by now. Leona took a deep breath to try and relax himself. It wasn’t like him to be this excited over a girl. Before he knew it, he was fast asleep. 

****

“Are you excited?” Jade Leech towered over her. The twins both did. She was a small thing compared to them but after working part-time at the Mostro Lounge for two weeks, her fear of them dissipated. Floyd was now more playful around her and would even hug her randomly. Jade noticed her interest in the variety of tea leaves they housed in Mostro Lounge, and to his surprise, their little human actually  had a knack for blending leaves. Her brewing methods might need some refining work, but he appreciated the care she put into every pot she made. 

Jade took a liking to her, day by day, his gold and rust-coloured eyes would follow her around as she waltzed around the floors of the lounge. They’ve gotten a lot more patrons since she started her part-time shifts. And Azul, was gracious enough to let her have her dorm back, and her part-time spot. Their initial deal was problematic, but Asami worked hard to earn her keep and Azul was a man of his word. And, he found better use for the prefect other than making her his errand dog. 

“I’m excited! It feels like a long two weeks….” Asami held the tray close to her chest. Her shift was almost done. Jade looked at her, there was a certain calmed chaos that crashed in his sharp eyes; like the waves that crashed into the shore. 

“It must be tough living in Savanaclaw—” Jade’s voice was always calm. And it was soothing to Asami’s ears. She’s grown to like him and she was happy not to be judged whenever she rambled about tea leaves and indoor plants and mushrooms. But the mere mention of Savanaclaw softly wiped the smile of her face. Her head bobbed low, Jade waited for her words to come out. 

“It’s not really tough… I actually—” Jade leaned towards her, she had this habit of talking so soft it became hard to understand what she was actually saying at times. But he didn’t really mind it as he accustomed himself around her. It gave him a better excuse to lean in and carefully listen. 

“I actually like it there… I’ve grown to like everyone in Savanaclaw—” A meek smile bounced back on her face. A slight blush creeping up reaching even her small ears. 

He saw the blush on her cheeks at the slight mention of Savanaclaw. And how, whenever the dorm was mentioned, she'd dip her head low, almost as if trying to hide her already small self. Jade noticed. How she would let out a heavy sigh when someone enters the lounge. It was as if she was expecting someone to walk in, but it never turned out to be the person she wanted to see. When blazers adorn with yellow ribbons walked by, how her eyes would open wide — like a child peeking through the windows of a candy store for the first time. Her eyes searched for something. Maybe, someone. And Jade, very much wanted to know who that person was. 

Jade Leech would feel his head slowly shift towards her direction. Just as she finished her shift, he carefully watched how she hurriedly removed her white bow tie and fedora hat then headed towards the changing rooms. With elegant, careful and elaborate gloved hands, Jade took a copper canister and examined the next blend Asami had prepared. 

Loose black tea, bits of dried mint and shaved chocolate bits. He took in a deep breath. An exquisite blend. He carefully ran a finger over the characters Asami had written on the canister label. “Chocolate Mint Truffle” in small dainty cursives. A smile gently appeared on Jade’s face. 

How lovely.  He thought to himself. 

****

Leona could feel the peeking sun peel his eyes open. “Tch—” he muttered as soon as he felt himself wake up. Too bright. He thought. His hand reached for his phone to check the time.  

Too early. Too early for anything. 

Leona felt himself jump out of bed to look around. He suddenly remembered that he wanted to wait for the prefect to return. But he unknowingly fell asleep. Out of frustration? Out of anticipation? Maybe actual exhaustion? He looked around the room, and found her sound asleep on the usual futon on his carpeted floor. 

It was the first time he actually woke up to her sleeping there. Minus their ‘sleeping together’ incident, of course. He felt a sense of relief on his shoulders at the very sight of her. Her guard, finally down — and she allowed herself to be there — knowing he can wake up at any given time. 

Leona languidly moved from his bed down to the floor and even closer to her. Asami lay on her side, her hands in front of her face and slightly covering her lips. It was the steady and soft breathing which was familiar to him. And how he treasured that moment. 

Leona then — with half-lidded eyes — moved closer to the prefect. And he joined her space, snuggling himself behind her sleeping figure. His arm drew closer to her — if not — maybe it was him who actually scooted closer to her. 

He couldn't remember, he was falling fast asleep again as he found comfort in the scent of her. She was familiar and warm; a tantalising medley of wanting, longing and owning overcame his senses as he, yet again, allowed himself to be in this world. The world that was just her. 

****

Asami couldn’t remember when the last time she slept so comfortably in Leona’s room. She had been actively avoiding it. And frankly, she didn’t remember sleeping there for more than just a few hours. But yesterday was an exception. She arrived at Savanaclaw later than usual. Evening meals have been cleared, after-dinner runs are done and the lounge is empty. No one in sight. Her feet dragged her to Leona’s room, the only oasis she knew she could run to. She opened the door ever so softly, still managing a soft creak, and as she peaked inside, Leona’s sleeping figure assured her that everything was normal.  

She fell onto the futon, not even noticing that Grim was gone. Leona’s soft snores made her smile, and she let herself rest and fall asleep. 

At least, that’s what she last remembered. 

Her last day in Savanaclaw, Asami awoke to strong arms around her waist. And the warmth of long luscious strands all over her face. A soft kind of purring buried onto the back of her head, soft breaths tickled her hair and ears. “A cat?” 

She didn’t remember Grim being in the room, nor him being this big—

She felt her cheeks turn hot when she realised what was happening. Her fingers slowly and gingerly brushed over his hand—a tight grip on her waist, drawing her to his crouched figure. Asami tried to face him, but his grip was much tighter than she could manage. 

“Leona-senpai…” her soft voice called out to him, she was careful not to wake him so suddenly. She knew his waking mood was not the best, and she didn’t feel like getting devoured after working so hard to be under his mercy these past two weeks. 

He let out a soft groan. A rather gentle groan, and pulled her even closer. “Early…” he mumbled, lightly chewing bits of her hair that gave Asami’s back a quick shiver. 

“We… We have to get ready….” Her hands tugged his carefully laced fingers around her waist. Her face felt hotter but the minute she felt him breathing into her made her legs squirm a bit. 

Leona cleared his throat, and tight hands around Asami suddenly broke free, his body pulling himself off of her yet again. What a pain. What a chore. He thought. He wanted to stay asleep. Why was being around her so comfortable? 

Asami looked at the dorm leader, who seemed like he was inebriated. Hand on his forehead and unmoving. Her hand was hesitant to the idea of touching him. When was she okay with actively reaching out to him? Asami couldn’t remember. 

“I’m sorry I woke you… Dorm leader…” Her eyes worried and focused on him. Worried he might have not slept all right. Worried she woke him up when she arrived and opened the door. Worried he might be angry at her. Searching, her eyes searching for an indication that he was okay and he wasn’t angry. 

Leona’s eyes found hers. Sleep still drowned his focus. He reached out to her and held her close to him. Head resting on her small shoulders “Five…. Minutes.” He mumbled softly, like a child refusing to get ready for school. It was sweet, she thought. She did not move, she let herself enjoy this version of him. Like a dream she refused to wake up from.

 Leona languidly pushed her off of him and slowly stood up, and still ended up sitting on his bed. Hands covered his eyes — almost as if he was trying to hide himself. Asami stood up and smoothed her pajamas before approaching him. 

“Are you okay?” Asami ducked lower to meet his eyes, worried he might not be feeling well. 

“I’m fine” Leona faced her, eyes now focused and awake. 

Her eyes fixated on him, seemingly searching for a sign. What exactly would that sign be? He didn’t know. But only now, only then, did he notice how the centre of her eyes were dark red. Something dark in the middle of the bright carnelian swirls of her eyes. Her face in the morning was soothing, in a way. Somehow it was alright, and it felt right to be there. Leona didn’t realise it but his hand was already reaching out to touch her. Warm palms rested on her neck. He felt himself gulp, as he took in the sight of her. Waking up not cramming to get ready to be anywhere or to do anything. But waking up, to see her. 

How beautiful.  He thought to himself but he was careful not to say it out loud. 

Asami was still. It was as if she understood the need to be still whilst his hand rested on her neck. Her hair was a bit messy but it didn’t bother him, really. 

Did she always wear pajamas? 

He doesn’t really know. 

Did she always wear that light pink colour? It suits her. He thought. 

Asami was still, and yet she seemed to look brighter and brighter the more he looked at her. Like the rising sun in the savanna. The lone golden sphere pushing away the darkness of everything. His darkness, perhaps? 

“Did you sleep well?'' Finally she broke the silence. Voice still soft and husked from slumber. Her lips moved so beautifully, he thought. How he wanted it. Since when he thought he wanted them, he wasn’t certain. But his eyes trailed from her eyes, down to her small nose, and then to her lips. Slightly parted lips, flushed cheeks, like they always are around him. 

Did he make her so nervous her face is always this flushed? He wasn’t certain. He thought he knew a lot of things. Leona Kingscholar thought he got the lion’s share of intellect. But now he realises that he has a list of things he did not know. And she was on the top of that list. 

He paused for a moment, and looked to what appears to be the direction of her chest. Leona looked away and cleared his throat. 

“You should change…” and he coughed again, hastily standing and heading for his dresser to throw her a fresh towel. “I mean get ready…” lazily pointing at the bathroom door as he walked out of the room. Asami looked down at herself and realised that her pajama top’s spaghetti straps were already half off her, revealing the top part of her chest. Asami ducked to cover herself but Leona was already out of sight. 

Yet again, she felt very small around him. And in that corner of his room, her face and ears displayed a brighter deeper tint of red. 

It was their last day in Leona’s room. And Asami felt a heavy kind of melancholy wrap around her as she finished getting ready. She looked around; his pine green sheets were still new from yesterday. His dresser — messy as always — looked the same no matter how many times she cleaned up. Shirts half-pulled and other bits of clothing scattered around it. Red and blue beads scattered on the floor. How his choker and bracelets stayed in place, she will forever wonder. 

Not that she minded, really. She enjoyed the last few days of it. She sat quietly atop his bed. Reminiscing that time when she felt the closest to him. She slept on his bed and never did she feel any sort of malice come out of it. Leona too, When did she allow herself to be okay with him being around? 

When did it start?

How is it that now she could look into his eyes and feel no fear when she had been actively avoiding him during all of her time staying in Savanaclaw?

Asami folded her futon and gathered her things, tightly zipping her duffel bag close. She took a deep breath, hoping the scent of the room would imprint onto her brain. Who knows when she could step into this room ever again? 

She walked out and headed for the hall of mirrors. 

That day, Leona Kingscholar didn’t wait for her outside his door. 

*****

Leona Kingscholar could feel that he was slowly falling off the world of reason. Ruggie and him took their usual spot at the rooftop during lunch. There was no special box for him or Ruggie. And, when he returned to get ready, the prefect, along with their things were gone. He expected as much. 

She must have been glad to get out of there. He thought to himself quietly as he hummed. Leg propped on top of his knee, hands behind his head. Ruggie was quietly eating his lunch, quietly watching the dark-haired prince as he hummed to himself with eyes up to the sky. 

“Kantokusei-chan said she’ll come by again to clean, maybe after school.” Ruggie waited for a response. His tone was flat, much like his daily reports. Leona’s tail didn’t swish around in interest. His head unmoving and his store-bought lunch untouched. Ruggie thought of things to goad Leona. 

“I’m sure she’ll drop by to give you a thank you present or something—” Ruggie chuckled, a hint of teasing formed his sentence. 

“Whatever.” he drawled. Leona did not wait for her. Instead, he let her take her time and got ready somewhere else. He didn’t feel like staying in the same room after the sight of her, in that. 

He didn’t want anything from her. Leona didn’t want to think the prefect owed him anything. Quite frankly, he didn’t want to think about her at all. The amount of wanting and owning he had for her was only on a bare simmer. And he was well aware that, sooner or later— if he allowed it — he’ll want enough to carve his way into her life if he let it bubble away. He had the chance to kill the fire. And the prefect moving out of his room meant he would see her less. And he will have no chance to interact with her. 

For a second, it gave Leona a sense of relief. A kind of normality, after two weeks of abnormality. Leona focused on the feeling of relief. The relief of knowing the prefect wouldn’t have to put so much effort into getting to his good sides. The relief that she won’t have anything to do with him after the handover. Relief that she can sleep peacefully every night, without him. 

Without him. 

Leona tried to focus on the feelings of relief. 

Because the bitterness left on his mouth and the pang on his chest felt stronger. He didn’t think even her sleeping face could save him from that bitterness. 

“Leona-saaan! Why won’t you say anything? Are you really going to just leave things like this?” 

Ruggie once again tried. He stood up and sat in front of Leona. Eyebrows raised in confusion as he stared at the prince. Leona did not move, his eyes were closed. More like a sloth and less like a lion. 

“Leonaaaa-saaaaaan!” Ruggie grabbed the untouched sandwich bag and cheered. Leona not minding. A deep and heavy sigh escaping him. “Stop nagging.” 

“If you leave things lying around, people will take them.” Ruggie mumbled as he munched. Leona’s eyes were closed, but his one eyebrow rose in irritation. 

His ears twitched as he listened to Ruggie. 

To be continued....

Tagging: @ohno-otome @pseudofaux @shannie-writes ^ u ^

#Leona Kingscholar #Twisted Wonderland #Leona x Asami #Twisted Wonderland Leona #Onibeni

[shereadsandwritesformelanin]

The Baker And Her Actor: part III [The Beach Date!]

Paring: Chris Evans x Black Fem! Reader

Summary: You meet Chris while making a house delivery for the Evans. He can’t get you off his mind and to be honest, neither can you.

Warnings: profanity, sexual content, angst, but overall fluff.

Notes: I hope you guys enjoy! If you have any requests feel free to share those!!

Previous Part(s) → (1) (2)

-

“Baby it’s you!”

“You’re the one I love.”

“You’re the one I need!”

“You’re the only one I see!”

“Come in baby it’s you!”

You prance around your kitchen singing your heart out to Beyoncé’s love on top. The past few days you and Chris had been communicating frequently.

It made you feel some type of way and put you in a chipper mood.

Since you had a day off you decided to treat yourself to a nice warm stack of pancakes, fluffy scrambled eggs, and crispy (vegan) bacon.

A perfect way to start a weekend morning.

Flipping the last pancake and plating it you shuffled over to your living room, Haneli hot in persuit.

Today was a relaxation day, and you wanted to watch some quality movies.

Over the past few days of your texting spell with Chris he never much mentioned his work. I mean here and there he brought up but we barley discussed it as if he wasn’t proud.

So this morning you were gonna dedicate this to watching one of his many projects.

“Chris Evans.” You command into your remote.

Error.

“Chris Evans!” You shout

The screen showed many of his different films, all looked absolutely amazing but one stood out amoung them all.

The one where he held a little blonde girl on his shoulder and had a similar scruff on his face.

Gifted.

If the title didn’t grab you the plot definitely did.

“Play gifted.”

“Playing gifted.” Your smart television obeyed.

Just when you were going to trade it in.

-

You were just now finishing the movie and you were blown away.

You never thought about how much went into being an actor. Being able to convey those emotions onto the screen allowing the audience to feel them. Chris, he did just that.

Should you text him?

You decide to make the first move. Picking up your phone you click his contact, and begin typing.

Y/n: Goodmorning, I just saw one of your films. It was amazing :).

The Captain: Really, which one? Also goodmorning to you too!

Y/n: Gifted, and of course you’re amazing!

The Captain: Dont make me ink y/n. 💙

Another adorable Disney reference.

Before you could respond, your phone began to ring the contact image of Chris popping up on your screen.

Why was he calling you?!

I mean of course you all had text, but text can be motified unlike phone conversations.

Just answer dumb ass!

“Hello.” You sqeak

“Good morning.” Chris gumbles, it was obvious he’d just woken up by the rasp in his voice.

“H-how are you?” You stammer

“I’m okay just a bit tired.’ He yawns “better now that you’re on the phone.”

You were silence. Butting youre upper lip not sure what to say next.

His flirt game was strong and always caught you off gaurd.

“You there?” Chris questions

“Yes I’m here, sorry. I don’t want to keep you if your sleepy.”

“No it’s okay- I actually wanted to ask you something.” Chris reassures

“What is it?” You muse.

“Will you go on a date with me?’ Maybe tomorrow evening, if that works for you.” Chris queried.

You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. This was the moment you’d been waiting for but was so terrified of its arrival.

When was the last time you even went on a date?

“Y/n, your making me nervous.”

“Sorry, i’d love to.” You trilled

“Great, pick your up at 7 tomorrow.!” Chris elated.

You could hear his pure excitement through the phone.

Youem were excited but nun the less nervous.

Shit what am I going to wear?

-

Saturday Evening - A.K.A “Date Night”

“Okay so you got this dress and I’m thinking we need to ensintuate your shoulders and colleebones as much as possible.” Kiara explains.

She rushes through Pinterest to find hair inspiration. Some your like some you aren’t quite fond of. You wanted to look your best for him.

“What about this one?” Kiara inquires showing you a beautiful and delicate up-do.

You take her phone to get a better look, zooming in on all the intricate details of the style. “I love it! It definitely screams first date vibes, should I even call it a date or a hang out.” You mumble.

“Girl gets some confidence.’ Kiara lectures. “He asked you on a date because you’re hot and his intrested take it with pride, he’ll love you, and if he doesn’t I do.” Planting a firm kiss on your temple.

“Thanks.” You coo.

Kiara begins to fumble in your hair, pinning it up and fluffing it’s often. “So where is he taking you?’ She quipped. “Somewhere nice I hope.”

“Well he hasn’t exactly told me.”

You feel her stop fiddling around in your hair. “So you don’t know?”

You nod your head.

“Hm, a man of mystery,That should be fun.” Kiara mused.

Shifting weight in your seat from the pressure of sitting for a while, your breath out. “I hope so.”

“Let’s find you something sexy to wear.” Kiara offered.

-

You both decide on a emerald green slip dress and a gold layered necklace, topping it off with a casual leather jacket.

“You look amazing girl, I need a picture.” Kiara praises.

You twirl around posing dramatically with various poses. Kiara snaps pictures hyping you up with each pose you perform.

“Come look at these.” Kiara hypes

Damn you do look good.

“Can you send these to me?”

Kiara nods her head.

Just when you were slipping on your shoes the doorbell rings. Your clock reads 7 o’clock.

Prompt.

You hurry toward the hallway mirror you had hanging on the wall, giving your hair one last fluff before opening the door.

The door swings open and there he was in all his glory.

He looked ravishing.

He wore a silver chain necklace, a black knitted sweater paired with heather grey saude pants and carmel shoes.

He held a bouquet of beautiful flower. Assortments of different pinks, red, and whites.

So he listens.

“Wow, you look stunning.” Chris praises

“You as well.’ I can take those, at least I hope they’re for me.” You giggle

“Oh yes, of course. Can I Uh set them up for you?” Chris ask rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes.”

You open up the doorway even more allowing him in. Guiding him toward your kitchen. A short trip considering you live in a small loft.

“Vases are up top.” You instruct

Chris nods, reaching up to grab one of your many vases.

When he stretched up his shirt untucked revealing a lower back tattoo.

God this man has tattoos as well.

You couldn’t help but stare not only was it intresting but it was really hot as well.

Chris peaks his head over his shoulder catching your gaze in his peripheral.

Shit.

“See something you like?” Chris teases a cocky smirk painted on his face.

You drop your head biting your bottom lip. You’d been caught and the man sure knows how to make you nervous.

I was starting to believe he did that on purpose.

Suddenly you notice Kiara hiding behind the slight wall that separated the kitchen and the living space.

“What are you doing?!” You mouth.

She smirks. Then begins to suggestively dry hump the air and make satisfied faces. “Introduce me.” She mouths back

You roll you eyes giving in, motioning for her to come over.

She smiles in victory, brushing down her outfit quickly.

“So y/n before you leave- oh I’m sorry I didn’t know you were here.” Kiara lies

From anyone who didn’t know who the actors was in the room, they’d think it was Kiara how well she put on an act.

You stare at her hoping she didn’t go overboard.

“Oh erm, hello.” Chris greeted

“We were just living, Kiki I love you and I see you later!”

You hoped Chris got the message, luckily he did.

He quickly dried his hands, shooting a small smile and wave to Kiara then followed you out your home.

“Which one your?” You ponder.

Beep beep.“That one.”

You watched the interior light of a black mid size audi light up.

Sometime you forget he’s rich. He definitely didn’t like to show, one of the many things you like about him.

“Shall we?” Chris says his arm out for you to interlopp.

You smile up at him gripping his arm, feeling the heat rise up to your cheeks.

-

The car ride was anything but queit. The two of you laughed and told embarrassing stories of your childhoods.

“Wait so you actually peed on a guy in your class in sixth grade?”

“True story, I couldn’t hold it!” You retort giggling

“Wow you beat me.’Chris says. “we are almost there it’s just up this way, one of my favorite things to do.”

“So I get to go to a special place?”

“Must mean something, right.” Chris stated, giving you those damn eyes again.

The way he stared at you with so much sencerity made you crave him even more. He was passionate you could tell.

-

“Okay no peaking.” Chris instructs pilling you out of the car shutting the door after you.

“Okay.” You obeyed.

Chris walked you through a seemingly long and tangled path. His big hands covering your ears the whole time.

Eventually he stopped guiding you and removed his hands.

“Is it safe to open?” You asked softly

“Yes you can open now, even though definitely saw you peaking.” Chris teased

“I was not!” You bicker like a child

Finally you allow your eyes to flutter open. Immediately your jaw drops at what you saw before you.

It was the Boston harborwalk, but lit up. The place looked so alive.

There was everything. Fun games, food, and even a Ferris wheel.

“Chris this is amazing.’ You gasp in excitement. “It’s- it’s beautiful I - can we go now!”

“I figured you’d love it, and yes let’s get going.” Chris spoke holding his hand out for your reach.

You comply shyly intertwining you tiny fingers with his. The heat rising to your cheeks, and the butterflies bubbling in your pit again.

You finally reach the boardwalk. Enamored by all the lights and fun that surrounds you can’t help but bounce from booth to booth like a young child on Christmas Day.

“Slow down dont wanna have to put a lease on you.” Chris pesteres

You playfully slap his chest with the back of your hand.

God he was muscular and firm.

Nope not going there y/n stop.

“Oh hush, this is fun!’ You piped. “What should we do next?”

“I was thinking the Ferris wheel?” Chris suggested.

-

Chris’s Point Of View:

The night wasn’t even close together and it was already going so well.

Y/n was perfect, practically an angel.

I could tell she was breaking out shell, showing more of her personality she’d been so afraid to show me.

It was great. I loved how excited she got about the smallest things, how she was a good sport and didn’t fuss over loosing games.

Through all my relationships I’ve craved to have someone like y/n and here she was and she was so great.

Gosh get a grip meatball can’t be falling in love on date one.

Finally we get up to the top of the Ferris wheel, stopping so we could get a great view of Boston.

I watched as you leaned over on the side just enough not to tip over but to get a good view.

How your y/c eyes lit up just like the city below us, the curls that rested on your forehead dancing in the wind.

Perfect.

I pull out my phone opening the camera settings.

I snap a quick photo of you. You just looked so peaceful.

Shit my flash!

My eyes go wide, embarrassed that I’d just been acting like a certified creep ten seconds ago.

She turns to face me comfusion readable on her face.

“Um y/n I’m sorry I- I just thought you looked beautiful.” I stammered.

She slips her tiny hand into mine giving me a small smile.

“Can I at least see it.” She asks

-

We leave the carnvial to go to another beautiful location I wanted to show y/n.

This could quite literally brighten her night.

“It’s just this way.” I instruct holding her hand helping her down the pathway to the beach.

“Are you taking me somewhere to kill me.” She jokes

“Sweetheart if I wanted to kill you, it would have already been done.”

I hear her let out small chuckle underneath her breath.

She trusted me.

“We’re here.” I announce

Her eyebrows raise as she looks around observing nothing but a bland beach.“We’re where?” She ponders

I pick up a small rock tossing it in my hand. “Okay now you’re scaring me.” She says slowly backing away.

“Don’t be.”

With that I threw the rock down on the sand allowing the bioluminescent plankton to give off their blue hue.

I hear the fimaliar gasp escape y/n’s lips as she’d done all night in excitement.

“Chris! What is this?”she quipped

“Bioluminescent planktons, I discovered these a while back when I was having a not good day and needed a walk. Cheered me up immediately.” I explain

Walking toward my side her eyes never leave the ground. “Wow this is astonishing.” She states

“You wanna see something else?” I ask a devient smirk planted on my face.

“You’re just full of surprises.”

“You have no idea.” I returned.

I grab her hand leading her over to the shoreline. “Take off your shoes.” I instruct

She does just that waiting for further instruction.

“You see this.” I say pointing down to the water.

“See what?”

“This!” I smirk lightly splashing her with water

Please be into it.

I watched as she stood there for a moment, mouth agape wiping the salt water off her face.

My heartbeat sped up hoping she wouldn’t curse me out and storm off.

“Oh really that’s what you wanna do?” She said smirking peeling her leather jacket off.

“Yeah that’s what I wanna do.” I mock rolling my arm and pants legs up.

“Fine but I was I raised off avatar and have a strong belief I’m a waterbender.” She jokes

Finally she splashes me immediately damping my sweater.

I’m impressed that she was able to get the much water on my with her small hands.

I attempt to return the favor but she runs away giggling.

I chase after her effortlessly catching up, scooping her in my arms bridle style.

“Stop, stop I’m sorry put me down.” She stammers laughing loudly.

“Nope only soaking you will do for forgiveness.” I say carrying her to the spot with our belongings.

“But Chris I just had wash day.” She pouts

“Wash day?” I question.

“You’re too cute, and caucasian.” She replied

“Cute huh?” I tease.

There she goes again hanging her head low and avoiding eye contact, she was so adorable.

“You know what I want.” I stays breaking the silence

“What’s that?”

“Ice cream.” I say

-

Finally we pull up at an ice cream parlor that looks like it was plucked straight out of the fifties.

I notice you began to shiver. It was late at night and the cool Boston breeze was now turning into a chilling freeze.

Should I do it? Will she be comfortable?

Making sure not to startle her, I cautiously wrap my arm around her shoulders pulling her into me, hopping to add some type of warmth to her body.

She just smiles up at me leaning her head into my shoulder. She fit into my side like a puzzle. I let the tropical sent of her hair infuse my lungs.

God she smelt great.

We get up to the glass display of ice cream. It was so colorful with so many different assortments of flavors I didn’t know which one to pick.

You were bent over peaking through the glass. Squinting trying to decide which ice cream flavor to choose from.

“Decided yet?” I ask

“I think so, can I have the chunky monkey suprise.” She asks the waitress.

The waitress nods grabbing a warm scooper for dig out your flavor. “What about you. what’s your take?” She asks me retrieving her ice cream.

“I think I’ll have what your having.”

“Good choice.” She playfully sasses

I watch her walk over to grab us a a few napkins and extra spoons.

Thoughtful.

“Sir.” The cashier says holding my ice cream for me. “Sorry, how much?” I ask.

“It’ll be $5.78.” The cashier resports.

I dig into my wallet pulling out one of my many cards handing it over to the cashier.

I felt your brown eyes burning into me, watching me.

I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing that you were or a bad thing that you were.

“Let’s go, it late and im sure you work tomorrow.”

“Yes I do.” She mutters almost pouting.

We walk to my car. Reaching it I press the unlock butting watching the inside light up.

[CLICK FOR Part III CONTINUED HERE!]

-

Tag List:

@toniilaney​

[hispeculiartreasure]

Don’t Wanna Fall - S.R.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,000

Genre: Angst angst angst angst angst

Setting: Immediately after Infinity War, preceding Endgame.

AN: I am . . . so deeply sorry for this. I’ve been in a melancholy funk for a few days and listening to my Johnnyswim playlist on a loop hasn’t helped. This was inspired by their song “Wicked Game”. Borrowed lyrics appear in italics/ If you haven’t heard it before, go listen to it first. It really sets the mood. This just wouldn’t stay in my heart so I’m making you all suffer with me.

In a split second, the world had imploded. Every single person’s life changed at the snap of a finger. No one would ever be the same.

After the day where everyone lost everything, you threw yourself into your work. You saw a need and had a desperation to be occupied at every second of the day.

People needed to grieve and grief had never been seen on this high of a global scale. Your nonprofit - what was left of it - began coordinating therapy worldwide. You hunted down therapists and counselors that were still living, trained willing volunteers. Support groups, individual sessions, you made it all happen. You fought tooth and nail to make it happen.

Everyone who walked in and out of your doors looked hollow, yet determined. Determined to find something meaningful in the aftermath. Then again, each person had lost someone. Including your staff, including yourself. Your whole operation depended on broken people helping broken people.

The world was on fire, no one could save me but you.

People around you tried to beckon you back out, mentioned you hadn’t been yourself. You laughed in their faces. Who could be themselves after this? You couldn’t help but think that person had died along with the other half of the world. What was the point? It was easier to love no one, to remain independent, to keep everyone at arm's length. That way you could at least pretend the remaining pieces of you could live on.

But then there was Steve.

I never dreamed that I’d meet somebody like you.

He was good - straight down to his bones, he was good. He was kind. He was clever. He was haunted. For all his strength, he was gentle. For all he had in his mind, he was thoughtful. Still waters ran miles deep and it was too tempting not to explore the open seas.

The last session of the week is the one where you allow yourself to move from employee to participant. You knew you needed it, you begrudgingly sat through it. Your heart was no less shattered than anyone else’s here.

That’s where you met him. He was barely recognizable with his shaggy hair and beard that disguised his features. Without fail, he was always early. The previous session hadn’t quite ended, so he loitered by the door, watching, observing. He watches as you finish your duties, as you take your staff lanyard off and subtly transition into group member.

He finds himself sitting by you every Saturday evening. Both of you were among the quieter ones in the group. Mainly listening. Finding solace in not being the only one overcome by the grief.

Weeks pass. During a break you stand near each other in companionable silence, sipping on the instant coffee you’d prepared hours ago.

“Who did you lose?” he asks, soft enough to make you question if you’d heard it in the first place.

You take another drag of the bitter drink. “Everyone,” you whisper, void of emotion. “You?” From the corner of your eye you can see him still staring straight ahead.

“Enough.” You share a nod of sympathy as the leader beckons the group to take their seats again.

He lingers as the group disperses, thinking he was watching you covertly. He wasn’t.

You take down signs, Steve offers to help you stack chairs. You gather your folders into your briefcase before shutting off the lights. You never question Steve’s hovering. In a strange way you understood why he was still here. You’re glad he was still here.

“Wanna grab a drink?” He nods in relief, following you down the street to an old haunt.

Sitting at the bar together, there is very little discussion. Both of you were tired of talking about the feelings and thoughts that consumed you. For some reason, your souls recognized a kinship in each other. You felt seen by him, a feeling later he confirmed was reciprocated.

His hand covers yours on the surface of the bar, gently squeezing.

I never dreamed that I’d lose somebody like you.

Somehow you end up on the front porch of your home, Steve by your side.

Eyes flicker to his, finding that searching look reflected. You lean close, resting your forehead to his shoulder. This isn’t healthy, you think. Steady arms encircle you, a nose nuzzles the top of your head. This is wrong. His lips are inches from yours, waiting for you to close the gap. This will only lead to hurt.

This one would only break you.

You didn’t care. You needed to feel something. Anything. He did too. That much you knew.

It’s strange what desire makes foolish people do.

The pair of you stumble through your living room, mouths insistent, needy on each other. Leaping into Steve’s embrace, he takes you into the hall. Past framed photos, past a more vibrant you in a white dress, a man in a tuxedo gazing down at you adoringly. Past faces you know you’ll never see again. Past a you that had happiness. He angles toward what he assumes is the master suite, resting your back against the closed door for a moment to kiss down your jaw, peppering your throat with affection.

He twists the doorknob, drawing you back to the moment. “No,” you breathe. He freezes, leaning back to assess your meaning. Had he been wrong? Was this not what you wanted? “Down the hall.” Fervor is back in your veins, reviving in his. Shuffling toward the guest room where you’d taken up residence, Steve carries you.

He carries you away from the door, from the memories. Away from the room you hadn’t touched since that horrible day. Away from the place you’d woken up, confused by the dirt in your bed, calling for your husband. Away from the spot where you’d turned the TV on, watched the news coverage. Away from the room where you’d screamed in agony at the empty spot next to you.  Away from where your husband’s ashes still mixed in with the sheets. Away from the tomb of the life that was. Away from a life that was gone.

All that matters is the man that was making you feel anything other than numb.

Morning has almost arrived when you find yourself watching Steve as he slept. Your head is propped on his shoulder, hand firmly resting over his chest. You needed the assurance of his beating heart to keep panic at bay.

Soon self-conscious - but not embarrassed - eyes rove your face. “Breakfast?” he suggests.

You weren’t here to fall in love. Neither of you were under that allusion.

But someone to shoulder this unbearable burden? Sure.

What you found together in the next weeks, months, years wasn’t quite happiness. But it was as close as you could get in the world you now lived in.

You meld into each other’s lives. You are present for each other. You are salves on the others’ heart. You find a new kind of normal. You finally face the master bedroom, you clean out old memories. You find a confidence bolstered by a man you hadn’t expected. You work hard to get better. Steve holds you as you cry. You hold him as he cries. He opens up, he bears his soul. Together you talk fondly of the ones you lost. You get to know the only people the other has left. He gets angry. He seeks you out to bring him back down to earth. You hate yourself for the hope he brings, the peace that floods your body when he’s near.

A dark, rainy night he appears on your doorstep unannounced; clean-shaven, more put-together than you’d ever seen him. Something was wrong.

“We need to talk,” his voice is deep, toneless.

The hope is throttled by dread.

You nod, allowing him to pass by you. You stand toe-to-toe behind the closed door.

He’s different. For the first time since you’ve known him, he stands tall, straight. There’s a purpose to his step, a reason glittering behind his determined gaze. Even though his jaw is set, you can sense his agitation.

“What is it, Steve?” you ask when the silence becomes too heavy.

“I’m sorry I’ve let this go on so long. We’ve reached a place where you have feelings that I just. . . don’t have. I can’t keep letting us do this when you’re going to end up hurt.”

Later you look back and wonder why you weren’t stunned. Why you didn’t rail against him, call him every name in the book, truly tear him down like you wanted. But you were calm, collected, even-keeled.

You can tell he’s lying.

You’ve come to know him too well not to tell. The twitch of an eyebrow, the shuffling of the feet. The barely-there eye-contact.

“Care to share where this is coming from?”

His Adam’s apple bobs. “I’ve known for a long time. It was nice to have someone around, but I never let myself fall. I can get by on my own. And it’s not fair to you.” He reaches to scratch at scruff that isn’t there, instead moving his hand to rub his neck. “I’m sorry,” it quietly floats to you. Much like the first thing he’d ever said to you, you were only half sure he had said it.

Who did you lose?

Everyone. You?

Enough.

For some reason, he feels a need to say these things; to say that he never shared feelings you had fought for so long. You knew better. You’d felt the love in his eyes, felt it in his hands, felt it in his words.

What a wicked thing to say you never felt this way.

Your confusion dissipates when you finally pinpoint the energy he’s carrying with him.

Fear. Anxiety. Dread. Terror.

Something is about to happen, something is about to change.

As much as he’s saying he doesn’t need you. . . you know that right now the opposite is true.

“Alright,” you say much more steadily than you feel. “Do what you need to do.” You step closer, one hand reaching to rest on the back of his neck, the other tapping aimlessly over his heart. “Whatever it takes,” you murmur.

Steve knows that you know he’s lying.

He hates himself for gathering you up. He hates himself for breathing in your sweet scent. He hates himself for the blow he’s just landed. And he hates himself for staying when he told himself he would leave.

But he can’t leave, he can’t do what he’s about to do without saying goodbye to someone that has come to mean the world to him. Someone who was there for the end of his world.

He mutters your name like a prayer all night, etching you into his memory. Determined to carry you with him no matter where the next step takes him. Every possible moment you feel for his heartbeat. You memorize the pattern so it can play in your mind when you roll over to find the bed empty once again.

What a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you.

You walk him to the door the next morning, feel his lips on yours one last time.

“Good luck,” you whisper against his mouth.

Those blue eyes flicker, forgetting the charade he’d started when he’d walked into your home yesterday. He wants you to hate him. Wants you to be furious, he wants to be the someone you can channel your anger toward. You only watch him, nothing but understanding on your face. “Thank you. I’m. . . I’m so sorry.” That was the only true thing he’d said since you last stood in this spot.

Nobody loves no one.

“I’m sorry too, Steve.” You squeeze his hand tightly before you swing the front door open.

Finally, tears trickle down your cheeks as you watch him walk away. Somehow you know you’ll never see him again.

You know him in his bones.

Whatever he’s set on doing, it’ll get done - no matter the cost.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #Don't Wanna Fall #beka writes

[petri808]

A Witches Heart

Bakudeku fluffy Witch/Familiar gift fic for my demon hubby @diabl0o  UwU

~ I wish I had more time and inspiration, but I hope you like it <3 ;)

For several hours something has been following him and it was getting on his nerves.  It wasn’t human, nor animal, most likely a magical creature of some sort, but what kind, and why was it following him?  “Who’s there?!”  The young wizard Izuku Midoriya calls out into the dense forest.  “I can sense your presence, so there is no point in hiding from me.”  Nothing stirs.  “Fine,” he sets his belongings down and takes a seat on a fallen log.  “I’ll just wait here.”

Whatever it was moved around, circling Midoriya but never came all the way out into the clearing.  This ‘thing’ was quiet, probably small, the wizard guessed, in order not to ruffle the leaves or brush.  In fact, it was starting to remind him of a specific type of animal. Within an hour the presence had finally stopped in front of him, but just out of view.  Oh well, when it was ready to come out it will.

Midoriya decides the day was growing late and began preparing a small campsite.  He gathers wood, kindling, grabs his flint, and starts a fire. Then he takes a kill he’d made that morning out of his rucksack, just a decent sized hare, skinning and cleaning it. The presence shifts, maybe curious as to what the wizard was doing.  That makes him grin, it was only a matter of time now.  

With the rabbit roasting over the fire, Midoriya sits back down, sipping from his waterskin flask, glancing but never staring directly at where the presence had settled.  “Are you hungry?” he talks out loud.  “I have a little to share, if you are.”  Still nothing stirs.  The offer was made, and it was up to it to make the next move. “In the morning I’ll be moving on again, my home is a few more day’s journey from here.”  It would have looked strange to be talking to air, but it was also kind of nice not to be completely alone.  These expeditions to gather supplies were necessary but very lonely without a companion. Older wizards often had vassals to do the hard work, but he was young and had yet to make his way in this world.

He tests the rabbit after 30 minutes and the flesh was firm with no more juices running from the meat.  It smelled great, a little charred at the edges, but nothing too burnt.  “Mmmm,” he holds the stick up near his nose, “sure you don’t want any?”  A slight rustle in the brush brings an uptick at the corners of Midoriya’s mouth.  He breaks a couple of legs off, which sends even more juicier scents into the air.  “Come on out, I won’t hurt ya.”

After a brief pause, the young wizard sees the bushes shake and slowly, a small canine walk’s out. Its nose is up, smelling the air, eyes look wary but curious.  Midoriya tosses a leg close to it.  “There ya go little fella,” he smiles at the animal.  While he eats the rest of the rabbit, he watches it sniffs the meat cautiously, taking a tentative bite, before it goes about devouring the leg.  “Wow,” Midoriya chuckles, “you must’a been hungry guy.”  It only takes a couple minutes before only a leg bone is left.  He tosses the second leg to the animal, but this time midway between them.  “Eat up.” Again, the creature walks over, sniffs, then gobbles up the meat.  In the meantime, Midoriya offers up one more leg and the innards to the animal while he finishes up his portion.    

“Ahh, that was good,” he pat’s his stomach and leans back against the tree trunk.  “Hopefully I keep finding easy prey like that and I won’t go hungry.”  

The dog didn’t immediately bolt back into the forest after the meal, instead sitting down a few feet away on the other side of the fire just watching the wizard.  It was hard to see the canine with only the flickering flames to illuminate it.  But what he could see was a yellow, blondish colored dog, with a medium length coat, pointy ears, and blood red eyes.  It was definitely on the smaller side, not much for a guard animal, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to a possible companion.  

Still, why was it giving off a magical presence, and what was such a small dog doing in the middle of a big forest anyways?  It was odd. Maybe it became lost from its original master?  Midoriya pondered such thoughts as he readied his bedroll.  “I’m going to get some sleep,” he tells the animal who hadn’t moved from its position.  “If you’re still here in the morning, you’re welcome to keep following me.”  The dog cocks it’s head as if were pondering its options.  Interesting that it seemed to understand him.  Well since it didn’t seem like the animal was any threat, with a few more pieces of wood added to the fire, Midoriya lies down and goes to sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, the first thing he notices as soon as he opens his eyes, is that the dog had moved closer through the night and was just over an arms-length away to his side.  So, he sits up slowly not wanting to startle the animal.  “Good morning,” he smiles and yawns, “are you going to keep following me?”  Of course, the animal doesn’t respond, but simply stares.  “I should give you a name or something.”  Midoriya taps his chin, “how about fluffy?”  The animal lowers its ears and growls low.  He chuckles, “ok not fluffy, hmm, maybe Kuma?”  The dog tips his head.  Is it thinking again, Midoriya wonders?  After a few moments without being growled at, he assumes the name is acceptable.  It didn’t quite fit right for a small dog, but it was just a name after all.  “I’ll just call you Kuma for now.”

He packs up and heads off again through the forest.  If memory served him right, there will be a river about a half days journey ahead where he can refresh his water supply and maybe catch some fish for dinner.  Kuma simply follows behind a few feet, never coming close enough to where Midoriya could touch it, but by midday it was clear the animal had no intention of wandering off again.  Well, at least he had a companion now.  Sometimes he would talk out loud as they travelled, just so there was anything but the silence of the forest surrounding him.  Kuma was quiet, never really barked or made any noises, though Midoriya knew it was somehow understanding everything he was saying to it.  

Things went on like this for the next couple of days until they needed to cross another river.  Unlike the previous one, this river was wide and faster moving, but luckily, an old wooden bridge spanned it.  Midoriya tests the first couple of boards and it seemed sturdy enough, though the spaces between the slats were a bit wide.  He turns and reaches out to Kuma, “maybe I should carry you over this.”  Kuma growls and turns his nose, then bypasses Midoriya and begins to trot across on his own. So much for that idea, Midoriya just chuckles and follows behind.

Suddenly, as they reach the midway point, the board under Kuma cracks and gives way.  Midoriya watches in horror as the dog falls, howling till it hits the water and goes under.  “Kuma!”  The drop had only been the length of two tall men, but for a small animal it must have been much more terrifying.  The witch doesn’t hesitate, placing his belongings down and diving in after his companion.  

He searches desperately, paying close attention to each time the dog’s head broke the surface of the water. Midoriya calls out to it to fight. “I’ll save you Kuma!”  Swimming with the current, the witch dodges rocks and other debris.  He was losing track of how far it was carrying him, but it didn’t matter.  With every second he was gaining.  “Gotcha!” he manages to grab the dog’s scruff and pulls it back above the surface before it went under again.  He cradles it to his chest as they are swept a little further down river.  One problem solved, the next was getting out of there.  Midoriya scans and sees a fallen tree that is laying half way into the water. Perfect!  Timing it, he grabs hold of a branch.  The force of the water funneling around the tree was strong, but he manages to haul them both onto the trunk portion.

As soon as he crawls onto solid ground.  “That… was close…” Midoriya flops onto his back, panting from both exhaustion and the adrenaline rush.  It was only at that point that something peculiar registered on the witch.  This dog was a lot heavier than it looked, a lot heavier, as in three times what he though it should be.  “Are you okay,” he asks Kuma.  The dog had crawled off, shaken out it’s fur and sat right beside him.  It tips its head and nods.  Midoriya blinks, it nodded?!  Do dogs nod?!

The witch sits up, “I’m confused on what you are Kuma.  You give off magic, you understand what I’m saying, and your weight makes no sense for a small dog.  Where did you come from?  Did you get lost or run away from a master?  Are you here to get something out of me?  I don’t mind you tagging along, but it would be really nice to know what I’m dealing with.” Kuma rolls its eyes.  “Did you just…”

“You’re nicer than my last witch master, but sometimes you talk too much.”

Midoriya’s jaw drops and he stumbles to his feet.  “Y-You can talk!”

“Yeah.”

Before the witch can do anything more, Kuma shapeshifts into a wolf, a bear, a leopard, then finally into a human, albeit a naked one, while he just gawks the whole time.  As Midoriya covers his eyes, Kuma gives a bellowing laugh, “Such a pansy of a witch!  But a brave one.  For saving my life I will tell you what you ask.  My name is Bakugou Katsuki and I am a shapeshifter.”

“H-Here,” A blushing Midoriya shrugs off his coat and holds it up.  “Please cover up.”

Again, Katsuki laughs but obliges.  “I’m just gonna shapeshift again, it’s easier to travel as an animal.”  

“That’s fine.  I-I just, i-it’s…”

“I get it.  You can open your eyes now.”

When Midoriya peaks out, Katsuki had settled in a cross-legged position.  He breathes out a sigh of relief and opens his eyes.  The shapeshifter was very handsome in his human form, but this wasn’t the time to be gushing about such things.  Wait a minute!  “If you’re a shapeshifter, why didn’t you just change into, I don’t know, a fish or something to save yourself?!”  

“Because you jumped in after me!”  Katsuki crosses his arms, “I hadn’t planned on revealing myself yet, so yeah, if you hadn’t come after me, I would have done just that.”

“Oh.”  That made some sense.  “Hey, um, we should find our way back to the bridge before someone steals my things.” He stands up, ready to trek back along the river, when Katsuki places a hand on his shoulder.  

“Look, I just wanted to say thanks for what you did.  When I saw you, I had a feeling you wouldn’t be like a lot of the witches I’ve met and I was right, you still have a heart.”

“Um, thanks…. I think.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I’d like to be your Familiar if you’ll have me.”  

The young witch has never had a Familiar of his own before.  A wide, beaming smile blooms on his face.  He hugs the man, “I’d really like that!”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Katsuki rolls his eyes, and after a second pushes Midoriya off, “I ain’t really the touchy-feely type.”

Midoriya swore the shapeshifter was blushing too but doesn’t say anything.  “S-Sure, I understand.  So, shall we get moving?  If we hurry, we can get my stuff and make camp before dark.”

Katsuki nods and shape shifts into small dragon.  “Get on, this’ll be faster.”

“Wow!”

#bakudeku #bakudeku drabble #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #witch familiar au #bnha #bnha fan fic #bakugou #midoriya #bakugou x midoriya #gift fic

[desperationandgin]

Market Price (Modern AU Outlander Fic; Jamie x Claire)

Chapter Five: Formal Date Night

Rated: M

Also Read on: AO3

Previous Chapter

Dates three and four (tapas and another farm lunch respectively) consisted of more easy getting to know you questions: First kisses (hers in Egypt when she was nine years old and his behind a barn at thirteen), first jobs (he’d always worked the farm which she decides is admirable; she worked at a bookstore in college which he’d called ‘predictable but respectable’) and the like. Date five, though, the ante has been upped.

Date five is dinner at a reservations-only restaurant, which means dressing up for the night in clothes that don’t exist in any sort of regular rotation. Geillis helpfully supplied the choice in venue absolutely means sex afterward and now, in nothing but scraps for underwear, Claire is changing the sheets on her bed, making sure that in the event they do come back to hers it looks at least halfway presentable and not as if she’s laid around in her time not with him eating crisps out of the bag while watching Netflix.

Christ, she’s a certified disaster.

As she looks at herself in the mirror, passing dress after dress in front of her body, she huffs and bites at the inside of her bottom lip as she tries to decide between little black dress A, B, or C. Throwing all three on her bed, there’s a hint of color in the very back of her wardrobe and she pushes everything aside until revealing a deep, merlot-colored dress that Claire most certainly didn’t buy. Pulling it out of the dry cleaning bag she reads the note pinned to the fabric and rolls her eyes.

Figured you had nothing sexy enough to get laid in so you can borrow mine. Don’t ruin it doing filthy things - G.

“You’re a terrible friend,” Claire mutters in jest before making adjustments to her underthings and tugging the dress on; thin straps, pulled in at the waist and hugging her hips with a very daring neckline. Not bad, Beauchamp. Frank had always liked her to be a bit more conservative, so while she has plenty of clothes for going out, there isn’t anything quite like this in her repertoire. There was an internal debate with herself, to leave her hair curly or straighten it, but Jamie seems to like tugging at her curls when they kiss (he finally had again, yesterday. Well, they full on made out until he had to go back to work after lunch) and she very much likes it. Curly it is, a bit of makeup, black heels and one last pep talk in the mirror.

She’s nervous in a way she hasn’t been in a long time; she was nervous when she went on her first date with Frank but it was different. She felt as though she had to impress him with her intellect. With Jamie, her nerves are in anticipation of him simply looking at her. Without fail, every time his eyes land on hers she feels as though she might break apart in a mix of want and need; it’s exhilarating and feels dangerous, in a good way. A perfect way.

When the sound of his knock finally fills her apartment, she makes herself wait to the count of five to steady her pulse before opening the door. What she wants to do is greet him, but what actually happens is a slight parting of her lips as she lets her eyes move over him, taking in the sight of Jamie filling her door frame. His hair is down as well, red curls that brush the back of his neck (curls she’d like to take her turn tugging), wearing a charcoal grey suit that she’s positive has never looked this good on any other human male alive. He’s wearing a watch that she’s sure she’s never seen him wear before; his cologne smells like cedarwood and something citrus, spicy. By the time she makes her way back to his eyes he’s staring at her, his gaze making her legs liquid as she reaches for the doorknob to steady herself.

Later, she’ll have no idea if he moved first or if she did, but their mouths crash together before she has time to process it. Her mouth opens to him and the sound she makes is a variation of a moan she’s positive has never come out of her before. When she takes her turn, tongue gliding over his, she can feel his hands grasp her waist, slowly walking her backward, door closing behind them. There’s a vague sense of the wall behind her back, but all she can feel is the way his fingers press in against her hips, the scruff on his face against her skin, his tongue pushing back against hers. Her own hands have moved against his back, pressing him close, pressing him to her, and it’s only for lack of air that she parts their lips. She needs a deep breath and feels her head hit the wall with a quiet thunk. Eyes closed, she wets her lips, feels his grip tighten for a moment and then relax.

“I’m sorry, Sassenach. I dinna ken what came over me. Just seeing ye in that dress was…”

“It was what?” she murmurs, dragging her eyes open to find him looking right at her.

“Inspirational.”

Claire laughs, pressing a hand to her forehead. “Well, I’m always glad to inspire. But we have dinner reservations.” She watches as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth, resists snagging that lip with her own teeth. “What are you thinking?”

He seems to hesitate before clearing his throat. “Only that food does no’ seem like what I want right at the verra moment.”

Going quiet and still, they stare at one another as what he’s implying sinks in, and she slides her hands up his back further. She waits to ask the question on her lips, instead, letting one hand glide to his hip, then move up his chest slowly. All the while, his eyes haven’t left hers, his lips millimeters away from her own when she does finally speak quietly. “Do you want me, Jamie?”

The response is immediate, a groan just before his lips crash against hers again. “Oh, God, yes. Christ, I wanted ye the moment we first met.”

Either she’s gullible or she’s that turned on because it works, and her hands push off his jacket, letting it fall in a heap on the floor. “Date number five is respectable, right?” she asks breathlessly, eager to feel his mouth against hers again.

“Oh, aye. Verra. Though, we did no’ actually go on the date.” he points out as his hands move up her sides then down again to curve around her backside.

“We’ll eat later,” she decides before kissing him again and this time, letting her fingers tangle in his curls, lips parting for him. He tastes like a hint of whiskey, nothing obtrusive, maybe a little sweetness, and whatever it is she’s lost to it, easily sinking into him even as her fingers reach for his tie, undoing it, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“Ye have a bedroom, I assume?” he asks when he breaks away long enough to ask, lips pressing to her throat even as he confidently lifts her, hands sliding around to support her weight. The obvious place is down the hall so he begins a confident stride that way, assuming her hand waving in that general direction means to keep going.

She can’t think for the way it feels to be lifted into his arms and carried toward her room, but then they don’t make it and she hits a wall again, grunting into his mouth at the slight force.

“Sorry, sorry,” he pants out, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he kisses a line down her neck and across her chest.

It’s enough time for her to think, and she blinks her eyes open to look at him. “Condoms?”

“Aye,” is the correct and quick answer, though when he puts her down and pats his pockets, he frowns and then comes the string of Gaelic curses.

“...What?” she asks, nearly afraid to hear the answer, already telling herself there are other things they can do.

“I left them in my car. Never have much occasion to need them, ye ken, and they do expire. Or so I’ve been told, so I bought a new box.”

She doesn’t mean to laugh, truly, so her hand moves to cover her mouth before she looks at him. “Go get them. We’re using them,” she promises, not even realizing the implication of them, as if they’ll need more than one before he leaves her bed again. His leaving gives her a chance to push a hand through her hair, wetting her lips as she stands dumbly in the hallway, waiting for him.

She can’t believe she’s doing this. Fifth date. Fifth date in a week. Fifth date back to back. It makes her have to stifle a laugh that sounds slightly hysterical to her own ears as she removes her heels and finally moves out of the hallway and into her bedroom. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed when he returns, calling out softly after closing the door behind him. “Back here,” she calls, giving herself credit because her voice sounds less breathless than she thought it would. As soon as she sees him she can’t help her smile, taking the condoms to toss on the nightstand before standing, turning her back to him. “I need help with the zipper.”

There has been absolutely no alcohol consumed on her part but she feels drunk in a very pleasant, light-headed way as soon as she can feel him standing close behind her. Then his lips press against the back of her neck and all thoughts simply cease to exist as her mouth goes dry.

“I believe I can manage a wee zipper,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to the back of her neck, nuzzling her skin a little before grasping the zipper and tugging it down slowly, until the dress sags in the front.

Turning to face him now, Claire swallows heavily and pulls her arms free of the dress before stepping out of it, nudging it to the side with her foot. By the way his neck and face seem to turn a new shade of red, her last minute decision to go bra-less was a good one. Moments go by as he simply stares, and finally, she feels just self-conscious enough to drag an arm over her chest. “Christ, will you say something already?” she half jokes, half pleads.

“Claire.” He says her name slowly, as if it’s the first time he ever has and he’s trying to get a feel for it in his mouth. “Ye have to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he tells her with so much sincerity that he sounds almost desperate.

“Have you had your eyesight checked recently?” she asks even as she flushes a little and ducks her head at the compliment.

“I ken beauty when I see it.” A hand reaches out to lightly drag a finger along the soft curve of her breast, both of them with notable hitches to their breath.

“I want to see you,” Claire murmurs quietly, stepping forward and meeting his gaze head on, eyes searching his before the subtle nod he gives has her hands pushing at his shirt and then fingers fumble at the button of his trousers, the zipper, until she’s able to push them down his hips, briefs coming down as well. That’s when she has to step back and look, very close to saying something until he speaks.

“Claire, there’s something ye need to ken before we go any further,” he breathes out, eyes on hers.

Her stomach flips a bit, unsure of what he could possibly say that he thinks would keep her from wanting him. What could change from the hallway to now? Nearly afraid of the answer, she holds her breath a bit, waiting for it as she watches him, bracing herself for something she can’t even fathom.

Jamie’s lips brush hers in a soft kiss before his forehead presses against hers. “I was in an accident years ago. I was caught under some farm equipment, nearly ground my back into nothing. The scars are ugly. Deep. More than one lass has decided it felt too strange to touch. I wilna hold it against ye if ye feel the same.”

She can tell by the way his shoulders tense, the way his eyes close, that he’s bracing himself, and she shakes her head before finding his mouth. “I don’t care about your scars, Jamie, whatever they are,” Claire manages as soon as she breaks away from the pull of his lips. “I’m glad you’re here with me. Grateful there are scars from healing so that you could be right here.” Kissing him again, her hands drift from his hips up his sides, then around his back where she can feel the rigid and rough terrain of him. He’s one large scar but her teeth tug at his bottom lip.

“If that’s the only confession, I would quite like to feel you touch me now.”

Relief makes him laugh as he thinks, for a moment, that he just might have to keep this woman. “Is that a formal request, then?”

“Uh-huh.” A very eloquent answer in response to his query as she steps forward, pushing him along until they’re at her bed and he’s sinking down. Moving over him, there’s a flash of a grin before he captures it with a kiss, his hands warm and strong as they move up and down her back.

“Did ye ken yer skin is like ivory, Sassenach?” he asks, voice touched with quiet awe as Jamie looks up at her, his blue eyes taking on a deep indigo color as want and need begin to make themselves known.

“No one’s ever told me that before,” Claire murmurs quietly, bending to press her lips to his throat. Beneath the cologne, he smells of sweet hay and earth and him. It’s enough to warrant a taste, lips sucking softly at his skin, pleased at the quiet hum of approval. Her lips drift, to his shoulder and a round, puckered scar there. “Another farming accident?” she asks quietly.

“Nae, only lads being eejits with bows in the woods. It’s from an arrow. I was eighteen and verra drunk when I let a friend, equally pissed, prove he could shoot an arrow through an apple on my head.”

“Oh. He missed.”

“Did he then? Must be why I have a wee scar,” he teases with a grin, shifting so that Claire is under him and his lips can press to the center of her chest. “I’ve never met someone so soft,” he murmurs.

When his lips find the soft curve of her breast, then kiss onward to a nipple, her back arches a bit. “I’ve never met someone who paid so many compliments,” she confesses quietly in return.

“I could write sonnets about ye,” he mumbles against her breastbone, nipple abandoned for now but only to shift focus on the other, giving it the same attention. Soon, though, his curiosity gets the best of him, and he begins a slow journey down her body, breath warm, feeling hers quicken when his tongue drags across the flat expanse of her stomach, a promise of something to come.

“Where are you going?” She hardly recognizes her own voice, one hand tangled in his curls as she tugs just a little, causing him to look up at her.

“Ye ken where. And unless ye have any objections, I’ll be on my way,” he states before kissing the crease of her inner thigh. He does look up though, needing to be sure this is alright, that it’s wanted.

Claire can’t remember the last time anyone did this for her, but she nods, too far gone to think about it. His head ducks, she tenses in anticipation, and then there he is, tongue warm and soft and driving whatever thoughts that lingered right out of her head. For a few moments, she can’t understand where the noise in the room is coming from until she realizes with a start that it’s her. Whimpers and moans cut through the otherwise quiet room until breathless panting joins in. She feels his hands slide up her hips, around to cup her close. Without hesitating, one long leg drapes over his shoulder and she feels his groan against the very heat of her. There’s a certain intimacy in this, more of a vulnerability in letting him between her thighs this way. It takes trust, and God help her because she’s only known him a few days, but she trusts him. She knows she could give him every part of her and he would do nothing but protect those pieces.

As his lips and tongue move, she feels two fingers join in and the cry that comes out of her is full of keening want, and she swears she hears herself whimper faster, but she’ll never remember later. Breathing heavily, both hands clutch at the side of his head, gripping tighter the higher her pleasure builds. There are few words of warning before she comes apart, his name leaving her mouth in a strangled gasp as every sense shatters and pleasure makes every nerve ending spark and flame. She’s vaguely aware of the way he kisses his way back up her body while she tries to remember how to breathe.

“Ye squeak when ye come, Sassenach.”

It’s so far from what she expected to hear that her eyes open, taking a moment to focus on his face hovering over hers before laughing breathlessly. “What?” She’s so pleasure-drunk that her accent comes out thick and heavy so that it sounds more like wot than anything more refined.

“I said ye squeak. And it’s verra cute, I like it.”

Claire looks at him and he’s so earnest that it makes her laugh again, one hand curving to the back of his neck. “I do not squeak. It was the bed frame.”

“Oh, weel, then yer bed frame is verra talented because it also moaned my name,” Jamie says with no hint of smugness, just amusement.

“I’m sure you make noises,” she rebuts, reaching for the condoms and pulling out one from the box. “Shall we see?”

“Aye, we should. Because I want to see what other noises ye make.” He snags her lips with his own, keeping his composure until her hand wraps around the hard length of him. However he thought she would feel is nothing compared to the actual touch of her, and Jamie’s head drops, eyes closing as she unwraps the condom, nimble fingers sliding it over him.

“I want you, Jamie,” she breathes out, raising her head just enough to kiss him deeply, able to taste herself faintly on his lips. It makes her fingers at the back of his head dig into his hair in anticipation. As soon as she feels the press of him, hard and wanting, the kiss is broken with a gasp, the same leg that once found a home over his shoulder going around his hip now. He sinks into her and her face presses to the side of his neck, feeling him shudder.

“Claire.” Every other word he can think of has melted away. There isn’t anything else, there’s only her and them and the way her body pulls him in. For a moment, he can do nothing but press his forehead to hers, eyes closed as one hand braces himself over her, the other gliding up from her hip in a slow, lazy path to cup her breast.

With a slow roll of her hips, encouraging him, they find a slow, exploratory rhythm together as her hands move over his back, over skin she isn’t sure feels anything because it’s so thick with scars. She grasps at him, holding on as if her life depends on it as she rocks against him and lets out a sharp gasp of approval when he pulls out completely, then thrusts back home fully, slowly. It’s a tease for both of them and she grins in satisfaction when he groans low in his chest. God, he’s strong above her; when her eyes open she can see the way his arms carry his weight easily while he moves. The way he sounds and feels is addicting and though her thoughts are hazy, she realizes she may have been right.

They’re using more condoms than just the one.

His thrusts change on the heels of that thought and she cries out sharply when pleasure explodes behind her eyelids, hands moving around to hold onto his backside, her voice groaning out a command of more, so he repeats the action, faster, harder. She feels his arms, strong and sure, lift her against her chest so that her face can once again find a home in the crook of his neck. She’s so close to his ear that she takes time to whisper around gasps. “I want to feel you.”

It’s a plea that needs no repeating as he moves with more urgency, practically crushing her to his chest. The angle has her pressing against him in a way that causes her fingernails to lightly dig into his skin, hips grinding shamelessly. She has no idea who comes when, but as their bodies collide again she hears nothing but him gasping her name, speaking words in Gaelic and then nothing but her own moans mingling with his. Eventually, their hips still, and with chests heaving, he sinks beside her. Both of them wind up on their sides, clinging as sweat dries and pools at the dip of her lower back. Head on his chest, Claire can hear the hammering beat of his heart, hears when it gradually begins to slow to its normal pace.

“You don’t squeak,” she finally says, opening her eyes to look at him.

“I told ye so.”

“You grunt.” The look on his face has her biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud.

“I dinna grunt. Like a caveman ye mean? Och, I’m offended, Claire.” He isn’t, and the way he leans in to kiss her might give it away.

“Yes, like a caveman, but I like it. I like the way you look and the way you feel,” she murmurs, jokes fading away as her face softens. “I like you.”

Jamie smiles tenderly at her, nose nuzzling at her shoulder as he lets those words roll around in his mind and press to his heart.

“I like ye too, Sassenach.”

Next Chapter

#outlander #outlander fic #jamie x claire #claire fraser #jamie fraser #my fic #market price

[welcometoyournewhell]

Youthful Thoughts

Inspired by this beautiful, amazing, piece of work by Sugar Jellyfish (pastelhoneyfish?) >>>> Click Me!

__

Steam fogged up the mirror as Takashi Shirogane exited from the shower. Drying himself off, he began to add moisturizer to help his scars fade faster. However, he’d been doing this for a while... and they weren’t really going away. 

Sighing, he looked in the mirror. Aged and scarred face, dark circles under his eye, scruff on his chin, and white hair. He was close to being thirty and he looked like he was in his fifties. 

Yes, he was stressed for the last three or four years (maybe five), but he was still young! Adam and Curtis were always stressing over something and they were only know starting to get grays!

He sighed as he looked down into the sink. ‘When did I get so old?’ Yes, Keith always called him an old man, but he was twenty five! Keith was fourteen so at the time just about anything over twenty could seem old. 

Rubbing shaving cream on his face, he thought for a moment. When he was fourteen he never really thought about getting to where he was now. He was more occupied on trying to make it to space and.... Adam. 

He snorted a bit at the memories of young him and one of his husbands. Adam had been such an socially awkward dork. He just wanted to read and learn, that was it. But he was so goofy, so easily flustered... so cute!

Shiro had been a bit more confident when it came to talking to others... but only when he was fluent at a topic they were discussing or needed to be professional. If it was a normal conversation... he crumbled. 

Probably the only reason the two hooked up in the first place was because they were roommates. Being “forced” to socialize was probably the best thing for both of them. 

Shiro could remember it like it was yesterday. They’d been on a hill talking about the stars and their dreams in space. Adam had even brought a few video games and a big book to bide their time as they waited for the sun to set. Granted... they had about and hour and a half but fresh air didn’t hurt. 

They’d go from talking about constellations and planets, to the newest pokemon game Adam had proudly purchased with his own money. The way his brown eyes lit up with excitement when he talked, they way he used his hands to gesture or put ephasis on his words, how he activley engaged Shiro and was open for any debate or dicusion about... anything, made the other cadet fall more and more in love.

His awkward snort, how easily flustered he was, he he’d just lean on Shiro casually and snuggle even before dating... it was great! But the taller (for now) didn’t want to ruin their friendship. He’s come out to himself and his family, but not to anyone else around him. 

Kenny didn’t know, Veronica, no one; not even Adam. Life was short, his especially. The mood seemed right and he was going to do it. But how? Shiro had never been in a relationship before! 

If this went wrong he’d be jeopardizing his grades, his “home” life, and his friendship! Flight partners, roommates, and best friends!Taking a breath, he went of it. 

As Adam was going on about how the sprites in the game looked much better than the previous one he felt something touch his fingers. He’d never taken Shiro for a romantic or even romantically attracted to anyone! 

They’d held hands before so he didn’t question it, that was until he looked up to ask why the other was so quite. Gray eyes were attempting to burn the grass with an invisible laser as his face was trying to become a tomato. 

That’s when it clicked. Adam’s face turned red as he quickly packed up his things, he felt like he was going to have a panic attack. “Sorry, sory, sorry,” he quickly spat out. Tears were coming to his eyes as his cheeks felt like they were on fire!

Shiro looked up in a hurt shock, had Adam not understood? As the other went to walk away he quickly got up to follow. His legs wouldn’t budge. Panic took over, his now or never instincts kicking in. 

“I love you!” It had taken a few moments to process who said that. When he did his face heated up again. Adam’s flushed cheeks turned rosier as he processed the information. 

It was like something out of an anime, perhaps Naruto? Adam sort of had a Hinata vibe to him, but this proved it. He let out an odd sound before turning to look up the hill. 

Shiro felt panic run through him. Now what?! Television hadn’t prepared him for this part! “Um.... are... are you sure?” What? Gray met brown before the other processed. “Yeah, pretty sure!” They were shouting back and forth rather than coming closer to talk normally. 

“Should we be... worried about that?” A professor looked over his shoulder to Iverson. The general chuckled and shook his head. “No, I don’t think those two will be doing anything.” There was a reason he made them partners. 

Adam looked at his shoes, holding the large space book and GameBoy closer to his body. What to say, what to say! He jumped when he noticed two more feet in front of him. “I um... really mean it.” 

The brunette felt like he was going to faint! “So..... a-are... are we a thing?” Shiro smiled. “If you want.” The othe nodded before taking a step closer so that his head was pressed against Shiro’s shoulder. The taller giggled before wrapping his arms around the shyer. 

“This is going to be amazing,” he mussed. 

Their relationship blossomed over the years. They’d cuddle and snuggle, tickle fighters were pretty common. There had always just been something about Adam’s laugh that Shiro could never get over! 

Sick mornings where the other would snuggle beside the sick one, contaminating them both. But they had each other to take care of and suffer with. There were so many happy memories, and there were supposed to make even more. But Shiro... followed his dreams and Adam broke it off. 

After the heart brake of thinking his lover was dead, Shiro moved on and found love with Curtis. But his love returned and... the three made something beautiful. 

“Kashi,” a voice shrieked before the bathroom door opened. Privacy was a thing of the past in this hose hold. Adam quickly hid behind the half towel covered male. He was giggling like a school girl as he tried to hide from their lover. Curtis smirked as he came closer, hands poised to strike. Both felt a nervous excitement before the chase started. 

Helpless giggles and tickly kisses started to remind Shiro he wasn’t that old. Even if he was... there was nothing wrong with acting younger. At least with the two men he loved. 

#2019 #adashiurtis #adashirtis #adam x shiro x curtis #tickle #tickling #slight tickling #inspired work

[jonathanvik]

Starlight Dream - Chapter 3

“Morning, Uncle Kenji!” Seina yawned as she dragged herself into the Prime Minister’s office. A drowsy Colten rested on her shoulder with bags under his eyes. A dutiful Mr. Kiyojiro stood behind her, alert and ready for any trouble.

“Do you realize what time it is?” A grumpy Colten said. 

“Yeah, sorry about this.” The Prime Minister replied, a bit chagrined. “But there’s a matter that requires our magical girl’s help.”

“Oh?” Tiredness left Seina as she stood to attention. She took her duties as a magical girl seriously. 

“Sadly, it’s a human problem this time.” The Prime Minister turned towards his open window, gazing at the city as the sun rose for the day. “There’s a gang going around causing problems. The reformed police force doesn’t have the strength to deal with them.”

This drew Mr. Kiyojiro’s attention, listening with a keen ear. Seina frowned, was he worried because these troublemakers might have once been his friends? The bodyguard seemed to fit that crowd. A wave of guilt struck her for thinking this, but she couldn’t help it. The comparison fits too neatly. 

“We’re bumping some heads together, got it!” Colten replied.

A pained expression showed on the Prime Minister’s face. “I shouldn’t be asking you this. You’re only a ten-year-old girl. You shouldn’t need to deal with these adult problems.”

“It’s fine, Uncle Kenji. Monster or human, I’ll be happy to deal with it. It’s my job as a magical girl to protect people.”

Colten gave an emphatic nod. “You can count on us.”

While still unhappy, the Prime Minister nodded in agreement. “They’ve been causing trouble in Kamagasaki. They’ve been exploiting and terrorizing people.”

“I don’t believe I’ve been there.” The vampires hadn’t allowed people to travel around much. Seina’s whole life had comprised only a few street blocks.

“I can show her around. I’ve been there before,” Mr. Kiyojiro said.

Uncle Kenji nodded his thanks. “Excellent, that simplifies things.”

“Hey! Seems you’ve finally shown your worth, Kiyojiro!” Colten said. A glare from the bodyguard sent him scurrying behind Seina. 

Not again. In the days since Mr. Kiyojiro had joined her service, the bodyguard and the fairy hadn’t gotten along. Colten couldn’t resist making snide comments at Mr. Kiyojiro’s expense. While the bodyguard hadn’t retaliated, Seina feared her fairy friend would push him too far. 

“We’ll solve this,” Seina said before Colten antagonized her bodyguard any further. Besides, she was eager to leave. People needed her help. 

“I must warn you, their leader has developed quite a reputation. I’m getting many conflicting reports. Some say you’re behind it, Seina.” Uncle Kenji snorted in amusement at such a ridiculous notion then shrugged. “It’s nothing you can’t handle, but I thought you needed to know. Good luck.”

---

Seina followed her bodyguard as they made their way into the slums of Osaka. Before the darkness’s arrival, the district already had a rough reputation. Because of the vampires, it appeared almost uninhabitable. An aura of dissolution and fear permeated the place. Much to Seina’s surprise, people fled as they approached, whispering fearful and worried words. 

At least Mr. Kiyojiro is good at scaring people away.

Interrupting her musings, Colten spoke up. “You know, Seina, I’ve invented some cool names for your magical girl form!”

Seina sighed. Not this again. Seina was Seina. Any other name wasn’t necessary. Her fairy friend was insistent his friend had a cool superhero name that inspired people. 

“Like what?” Seina asked with little enthusiasm. 

“The Magical Avenger!”

“Avenger? What do you mean? What am I avenging?” Seina asked. 

“Um, the innocent? It doesn’t matter. It strikes fear into the hearts of evildoers!” Colten replied. 

“Sorry, Colten, but it doesn’t fit.” If she had a superhero name, Seina wanted one that embodied her as a person, showing everyone what she stood for.

Much to her surprise, Mr. Kiyojiro was actually considering their conversation with interest. “How about one based on the lotus? In ancient mythology, the flower symbolized divinity and purity, often serving as the seat of the gods.”

“Huh,” Seina said, surprised by this tidbit from her tough-looking bodyguard.

Purity, huh?

“That’s it, Seina! You can be the Lotus Avenger!” Colten puffed out his chest in pride.

“I’m not avenger anything!” Seina shot back. 

As they rounded a corner, Seina yelped in surprise asr she accidentally bumped into a group of rough-looking men. One tripped and winced in pain as his rear crashed into the hard pavement.

“Oh, sorry!” Seina blushed. She’d been so distracted by her conversion, she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking. 

“Watch it, you little....” The thug went white after seeing Seina’s face.

“It’s her!” The other thug gulped.

“Sorry!” The fallen thug gave a respectful bow then fled at full speed away. His buddy followed close behind.

“Eh?” Seina blinked. What had just happened?

“Wow, Seina, you’ve developed quite the fearsome reputation!” Colten beamed with pride.

“I don’t want that kind of reputation.” Seina blushed with embarrassment. Still, their reaction bothered her. Her appearance had terrified them. Slayer of vampires or not, people shouldn’t fear her like that. She was a superhero, for goodness’ sake!

“Let’s keep searching,” Mr. Kiyojiro said, also disturbed by their reaction. 

The streets were eerily silent as they walked down the slums. Besides them, Kamagasaki seemed to be devoid of people. Yet, Seina detected tension in the air. The locals feared for their lives. A sudden scream disturbed the silence, and the magical girl and her friends ran towards the sound.

“Please, I don’t know. Don’t hurt me!” 

“Pathetic, none of you idiots can name her?” A rough voice said. A man howled in pain when a palm struck him across the cheek.

People whimpered in fear, herded in a corner by the men accosting them. They appeared beaten and battered, their attackers taking a great deal of pleasure in causing them pain. Seina spotted another man buried head deep in the ground. He eyed the saw sitting next to him in terror. Beneath his head was a stain of blood from previous victims.

Their attackers were giants. Seina had never seen men that large. They stood at least two meters tall. The thugs were bare-chested and muscular, wearing shoulder pads and spiked leather armor. Each wore their hair in mohawks in a variety of bright colors. Tattooed on the side of their head was a blood-red S, marking whatever gang they belonged to. Much to Seina’s surprise, not a single vampire stood among them. She’d half expected one leading the group of ruffians. 

The goon grabbed the injured man by the scruff of his shirt and shook him roughly. “I’m asking again. You better give a better answer. What is that girl’s name?”

“I told you, I don’t know!” 

“Think harder!” The ruffian thrust the man’s face towards a statue sitting on a pedestal. Seina gasped in surprise, recognizing the figure. Except for the mask, it clearly depicted Seina in her magical girl outfit!

“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you!” The man gave a pathetic whimper.

“You don’t know?” The thug’s ugly grin extended into a nasty-looking smile. His victim grunted in pain when he landed face-first towards the spot next to the bloody saw. “Lucky you! You’re getting the privilege of sawing this man’s head off! If you don’t, you’re next!”

The man’s body trembled, unsure if he could proceed with this heinous act to save his skin, eyeing the saw sitting at his feet in terror. Seina refused to watch any longer, walking into the open. 

Seina’s eyes blazed with fury. “That’s enough.”

A thug soon spotted her, smirking in amusement. “Seems we have company.”

“That right?” The head thug tossed his victim aside and studied the newcomer. He strolled towards her, towering over Seina. Despite this, she faced him without fear. Her fury overriding any hesitation confronting someone that much larger than her. 

“You got some guts, brat.” Seina winced as the goon grabbed her by the neck. “I like your bravery. Tell me, who is that girl?” The ruffian pointed towards the masked magical girl’s statue. 

“I don’t know. Who is it?” Seina asked, her voice venomous. From the corner of her eye, she spotted Mr. Kiyojiro, watching the scene from the shadows, ready to pounce into action. He showed no fear of confronting such large and dangerous men. 

“You can’t answer either?” The head thug pointed towards the saw. “It’s a little larger than you, brat. But you better get sawing if you wish to live. He dropped her, pushing Seina towards the bloody tool. 

“Change Change, Magical Love Dress Up!” The thugs’ eyes widened in shock when the seemingly helpless victim transformed. 

Seina bent down, lifting the saw. The trapped man’s eyes widened in fear. But she gave him a reassuring smile, telling him everything would be okay. 

In a single motion, she tossed the saw towards the fake Seina statue. The throw buried the blade deep into its head. “I’ll tell you this, it sure as heck isn’t me! I better get some answers, or else.” She cracked her knuckles, showing she meant business.

A moment of dead silence passed in the street. The magical girl’s arrival had taken everyone by complete surprise.  However, the head thug quickly regained his senses. He bent down, getting into the magical girl’s face.

“So, you are the magical girl everyone’s been talking about.” The ruffian said, unimpressed. “The boss figured you’d show your little head if we caused some trouble.”

“And, who’s this boss of yours?” Seina said, her voice cold.

“No one you’ll live long enough to learn about.” The head thug smirked. “They say you’re unbeatable. Shall we put that to the test?”

“Very well.” The head thug howled as Seina grabbed his enormous arm and twisted it. Not enough to break it, but enough to cause a considerable amount of pain. While she thought it was somewhat excessive, it seemed appropriate considering the circumstances. 

“Please, let go! Please don’t hurt me!” The goon tried everything to pull himself free of the magical girl’s grip, but it proved futile. Tears of pain dripped down his face. 

Upon seeing how easily Seina had subdued their leader, the other gang members hesitated, wondering if fleeing would be wiser. Mr. Kiyojiro dispelled them of this notion, blocking their path. The bodyguard entered a fighting stance, ready to subdue anyone who tried to run.

“Take us to your leader.” Seina released some of her grip on the man, but still gave him no chance of escaping.

“Gladly, fool!” The head thug’s expression changed, becoming smug. “Yata! Paralyzing Scorpio Strike!” In one swift motion, he struck the side of Seina’s neck with his fingertips. 

“Huh?” Suddenly, Seina lost control of her body, unable to move even a muscle. Even blinking proved impossible.

“What?” Colten jerked in surprise. Mr. Kiyojiro’s eyes widened in shock. 

The head thug’s mouth transformed into a cruel smile, knowing he’d gotten the better of the seemingly invincible magical girl. “Pressure points. I’m a master of the Fist of the Scorpio. The boss figured you weren’t as unbeatable as they claim. Seems it’s true. Magical girl or not, ya’ll still human.” 

“Won’t the boss be pleased once I turn over your carcass?” The head thug pulled his arm to free himself from Seina’s grip, but it still proved unbreakable. “Let go!” 

He grunted with effort, trying to pry Seina’s fingers free. But they remained stiff and unmovable. His pressure point technique had rendered her immobile, making it impossible to even twitch her fingers. 

“Let go, please!” Yet, his efforts proved in vain. Worse, her grip was leaving a nasty bruise mark, causing the ruffian a considerable amount of pain. 

“Fine, whatever.” He delicately lifted the frozen Seina from the ground, trying to not injure himself any further.

“Help,” Seina said through clenched teeth, unable to move even her lips. 

“You aren’t going anywhere,” Mr. Kiyojiro said, running to Seina’s aid, but the other thugs blocked him. 

“Keep them busy, will ya’?” The head thug said. “I gotta get this girl off before she breaks my arm!”

“Seina!” Colten cried out in alarm as her captor lugged her away, still frozen like a statue, unable to do anything to help her friends. 

“Guys.” Fear bloomed in her heart, terrified of what might happen to her friends so outnumbered and out-muscled. 

The thug took a winding road, making it difficult to follow him. Even Colten would have difficulty tracking him. Eventually, they stood before an old factory building with boarded-up windows, long since fallen into disrepair. Several tough-looking men bearing the S tattoo stood outside, bored and playing cards to pass the hours.

One rose from his squatting position, eying the newcomers with interest. “Masato, you found the target? Uh, why is she attached to your arm?”

“Nevermind. Just tell the boss I’ve arrived, and I’ve got a present.” Masato said a little too quickly, trying to avoid the awkward questions and hiding the considerable amount of pain he was suffering. 

“Once I get free, I’m going to kick your butt.” There would be Heck to pay once she freed herself of this paralyzing technique. Seina hadn’t enjoyed being lunged around like luggage. 

This is what I deserve for getting careless. Stupid Seina, you knew people with crazy powers were around!

“I can’t say you’ll last long, sweetie,” Masato replied, his grin turning nasty. “The boss has got a vested interest in your downfall. Stuck like this, you can’t do a damn thing about it.”

He pointed to another masked statue of Seina. “Lotus Butcher’s about to show you the true meaning of terror!”

---

“So, this is the place?” Takako said, spinning her parasol. After much tedious running around and some considerable persuasion of the locals, they’d finally located this universe’s magical girl, Lotus Butcher. She liked the girl’s helmet. It was pretty cool. 

“Focus. We have a mission, remember?” Nier said, annoyed, disrupting her musings. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Despite her dismissive attitude, Takako was quite interested why everything was so messed up with a magical girl around. They walked into the old factory building, eager to discover that answer. Some muscle-bound thugs attempted to stop her, but they were a pitiful threat. 

---

The abandoned factory was almost pitch black. Cruel grinning faces hid in the shadows. The familiar smell of death and decay hung over everything. Lotus Butcher had tortured people here, too. 

“Boss, I’ve got her.” Masato placed Seina on the ground, helpless, in a den of vipers. 

“Excellent, you have done well.” A raspy voice said from a second-floor platform. 

A figure cloaked in shadows sat on a throne made from stone. Seina squinted, trying to pierce the darkness. The vague colors of pink and yellow were visible in the shadows. Whoever they were, their boss wore a duplicate of her magical girl dress. The only difference was the black mask with a gold grill hiding their face. Something about their voice sounded familiar, but Seina couldn’t place where.

“Get the pit ready!” A mohawked thug said. 

“Pit?” grunted Seina.

Masato gave her an evil smile, lifting her towards a large hole torn in the concrete floor. “You’re invulnerable, sure. But how long will that last?”

Some thug lifted bags of cement mix and dropped them near the hole. Someone got a hose ready, filling the pit with water. The villains’ plan soon became frighteningly clear.

“Getting it now? Good.” Masato said, his eyes sparkling with malice. “Can you suffocate, I wonder? If not, well, it’ll keep you trapped for a while.”

Oh no! Seina fought hard against whatever was paralyzing her body, but to no avail. Her muscles refused to cooperate, leaving her helpless against their cruel plan.

The boss howled with laughter and jumped from their throne, landing next to Seina. “Oh, how I’ve been anticipating this.”

Finally, Seina got a good look at Lotus Butcher, who was indeed wearing a facsimile of Seina’s dress. Seina blinked in utter confusion. This person’s proportions didn’t even come close to matching hers. They were muscular and tall, clearly much older than ten. She gave a strangled cry when Lotus Butcher removed their mask. 

“I will make you pay for the humiliation you inflicted on me, Seina.” Dreven the Unkillable smirked, watching his men pour the cement mix into the hole. “This is sure to make your death slow and painful. Fitting, right?”

“Eh?! You?” Seina sputtered at the vampire in a dress. “What? How? Why?” That didn’t even cover the million other questions she had. Unfortunately, her paralyzed mouth made it impossible to speak them. 

Dreven looked down at his fake magical girl outfit and smirked. “A stroke of genius, right? Even if I didn’t lure you here, it would still irreversibly besmirch your reputation, hero. I will enjoy making everyone in the world hate and despise your name!”

“Okay, but is the dress really necessary?” Was she suffering from a fever dream? It made a great deal more sense. 

“I will do whatever is required to enact my revenge,” Dreven replied. He returned his helmet to his head, not really answering her question. “Throw her in. I’m going to enjoy watching her squirm.” 

“Yes, boss!”

“Uh, what about me?” Masato pointed to himself, still stuck to Seina.

“Throw him in too.” Dreven waved a dismissive hand and returned to his throne. 

“What?! You can’t do that!” Masato’s eyes widened in panic, and Seina felt pity for the poor thug. Dreven ignored his man’s pleas, a cruel smirk under his helmet.

Masato tried harder to free himself. “No, please! I don’t want to die!”

A nearby thug shrugged, unmoved. “Sorry, Masato. But you heard the boss’s orders.”

How terrible. No one deserves this.

Everyone jumped when something kicked open the front door. They winced as a spotlight illuminated the intruder, disturbing the pitch darkness. 

“Sorry boys, but I would like to have a word.” A young girl said. 

After getting accustomed to brightness, Seina finally got a good look at the newcomer. She was the same age as Seina. Her blond hair was long, running down almost her entire back. She wore almost all black, a short tank top with a skull emblem on the front covering her chest. Below, she had a miniskirt with fishnet stockings and a giant belt around her waist. A green scarf and a long black trench coat completed the look. Her expression was smug and confident as she addressed the crowd.

“The name’s Takako Kodama. Have to say, I appreciate the pad. Very spooky, just the kind of place that warms my pitch-black heart!” 

“Yeah! Who’s the boss? We’d love to speak with them. Got some business.” Seina’s eyes widened as another person flew into view. It was a fairy, just like Colten. Only this one was black and wore a skull mask over their face. Did this mean...

“Who the heck are you?” A ruffian said, blocking the newcomer’s way.

“Your death, if you don’t move, idiot,” Takako replied, unafraid of the towering man. 

“Why you!”

“Where’s Lotus Butcher?” Takako continued. “You’re a magical girl, right? What are you doing? Why aren’t the vampires ruling the planet? It is a magical girl’s job to spread despair and hopelessness. Don’t tell me this small-time operation satisfies you. Big picture, duh!”

What? Seina’s heart seized in her chest. What was this girl saying?

“Huh? Are you Lotus Butcher?” Takako squinted in Seina’s direction. “Why are you standing next to a hole of cement?”

Dreven snorted, rising from his throne. “That girl? She’s dead meat. I’m Lotus Butcher.”

“Huh?” Takako raised her eyes towards the throne and the vampire. She released a blood-curdling scream when she got a good look at the fake magical girl. “What the &#%@!”

“Change Change, Magical Love Genocide Dress Up!” The girl produced a red broach similar to Seina’s and transformed. 

Unlike Seina, the new magic girl didn’t become more colorful. Instead, a dress so dark purple it was almost black formed around her. It was highlighted by splotches of colour, yellow and green. Her outfit resembled a Kamchatka lily. Seina got a strange sense of foreboding from it.  

“Die!” The new magical girl summoned two guns in her hands, one black, the other white, and pointed them towards Dreven. Before the vampire could even respond, the magical girl unleashed a storm of bullets towards his hapless body. 

#magical girl #humor #parody #vampires #fist of the north star #anime #story #starlight dream #fiction #anime stories #written story #stories

[petshopfox]

Pet Shop Boys - West End Girls

Unreal City, under the brown fog of a winter dawn. Earth hath not anything to show more fair. Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, flowing on into the night. London – the lifeblood of the country and the vampire that sucks it back up.

Among other teenage favourites such as George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty Four and the Guinness Book of British Hit Singles, the Eyewitness Guide to London was a library staple. Before the age of seventeen I never made the trip on the route of the Flying Scotsman down to King’s Cross; in fact, bar a school coach trip to Dover en route to France, I’d never been further south than Matlock. But there I was, lying on my bed, fitting Monopoly streets into the A to Z, memorising the names of the boroughs and their railway stations. I was doing what probably thousands if not millions of ‘provincial’ Britons had done before me, embarking on a love-hate relationship with a city I’d never seen.

I finally made the journey on a school trip in 1998. The A-level art students headed off to the National Gallery; I visited UCL with a friend, had a slice of overpriced pizza for lunch in Leicester Square, then reconvened with the English lit students to see Othello at the National. It was sticky hot, and I felt disappointed for most of the time. It was almost worse to come to London for one day, and not get to do or see any of the things on my list, than never go at all. The schedule was so overdetermined I had no time to gawp at the tube posters or read the blue plaques, no time to catch myself realising I’d jumped through the rabbit hole into Wonderland.  But then, post-play, we had to cross Waterloo Bridge. The skyline shimmered into focus, St Paul’s ghostly with floodlight, the river lapping against the Embankment. I’ll be back, I said to myself, and a blood-rush flushed me all over. London isn’t a city of instant epiphanies. You don’t see it and die; it can be ugly and gawky, ill-assembled and unphotogenic. But there are always clicks; joints snapping into place; gear shifts. That moment on the bridge was one such: like a photographic print gradually darkening in the developing fluid, London was emerging.

Listen carefully to the opening of ‘West End Girls’ and this is exactly what you hear: London flickering into life, beginning to glitter through the fog. It’s morning, and someone walks into the light from the Paddington concourse. Their heels take to the wet pavement, and their heart beats faster as they scour the street for a taxi. The pulse begins to assert itself, and then the synth string chords – those chords – dark, cool and grand, clean and sleek as a black cab. And a pause, ever so slight, before the new arrival decides to walk; to take in the rush on foot, buoyed airily by the Pet Shop Boys’ smooth minimalism, slinking through the crowds. It’s all there in the video, as a rapid montage of random faces gives way to Neil and Chris, who take to their heels in a vaporous, ghostly Soho, like sombre night-watchmen coming off shift. ‘West End Girls’ is the sound of London settling into focus. Eight million people waking up to the distant rumble of tubes and screech of buses; eight million people rubbing their eyes as the greatest synth bassline in eighties pop music rings out from their clock radios. 

It must have been quite an awakening, back then in 1985. It seemed to arrive fully-formed; not just a song, but an aesthetic (though the original Bobby Orlando version from the previous year proves how crucial Stephen Hague was in realising the song’s latent atmospheres). This was not the barroom and dog-track London of Ian Dury, nor was it the hazy, romanticised cityscape of The Kinks. Tennant and Lowe are, of course, northerners, and thus outsiders, though they don’t so much crash the party as float spectrally in a corner with a martini and a raised eyebrow. When the Boys first broke into the charts, much was made of Tennant’s former career at Smash Hits, the foremost evidence cited for his apparently ‘ironic’ take on pop. But I’ve often thought that the beautiful balance they strike between the knowing and the credulous is the product of northern eyes surveying southern landscapes. They are detached, perhaps even sceptical at times; but there’s also that Eyewitness Guide in the bedroom, a city learned and loved, an excitement at having gone through the portals at King’s Cross and slipped into the anonymity of the throng. Despite Tennant having said on more than one occasion that ‘West End Girls’ was inspired by The Waste Land – ‘too many shadows, whispering voices’ is a true summary of Eliot’s fractured epic indeed – the song is too stimulated by what’s going on around it to be either a lament for the lost or a prophecy of doom. It does sound dangerous – there’s something dark and doleful in that bass – but it’s the kind of danger that makes you feel alive and adrenalized. It’s determined to keep its cool, determined not to spend its money all at once; but despite this caution, it’s still the sound of two northerners who will never quite fail to wonder at their adopted home.

It’s a dichotomy embodied by the Boys themselves: arty, askance Tennant, asking questions and pondering significances, and hedonistic Lowe (you can take the lad out of Blackpool!), disappearing into the massed bodies of the rave or shopping incognito at the record exchanges (check out the 1989 B-side, ‘One of the crowd’, Chris’s very own credo). It’s why their songs at their finest have such cross-cultural appeal; the Guardianista manifesto of ‘Che Guevara and Debussy to a disco beat’ (‘Left to my own devices’) can coexist quite happily with the football terrace reworking of gay utopianism (their definitive cover of ‘Go West’, which was taken on in earnest by Arsenal supporters). It’s what makes them so English, yes (another epithet interviewers and critics find impossible to avoid), but more than that, it’s what makes them so London, and more specifically Northern and London. In no other city in the world do you get quite so many disparate people rubbing shoulders in the crush; underfunded social housing and potholes on one side of the street, while the opposite side gleams with stucco and swept pavements. This is the world the Boys both celebrate and lament, and often with an emphasis on the relationship between regionalism and metropolitanism. It’s mourned in ‘King’s Cross’ (the station from which Geordies spill out into the city like foaming brown ale from a broken bottle), and especially ‘The Theatre’, which again makes specific reference to  expats from beyond the Watford Gap (‘Boys and girls come to roost / From Northern parts and Scottish towns / Will we catch your eye?’) But then there’s the funny B-side ‘Sexy Northerner’, about a guy who takes the capital by the scruff and recasts it in his own image. London is always up for grabs, and the Boys will be there as the daybreak traffic hits, on through lunch at the office, then dinner, pub, club, and into the demimonde of the dead hours. You always wanted a lover, I only wanted a job. You wait till later, till later tonight…

You see, London is all about almost unlikely juxtapositions, and the Pet Shop Boys pull off some of the unlikeliest. The astonishing ‘Dreaming of the Queen’ (perhaps the most moving song they have ever written) is the most surreal. It’s an elegy for the AIDS dead (‘there are no more lovers left alive’) sung by ‘Lady Di’, whose own marriage is failing; the ‘Queen’ of the title is both the monarch Neil visualizes in his dream, chastising him for being in the nude, and, perhaps, the patron saint of all ‘queens’ everywhere who are traumatized by the epidemic. It’s timely – on release in 1993, all these events were highly topical – and timeless, commenting on the ways in which our subconscious finds its own warped logic to deal with the crushing events of history. And then that heartbreaking line, ‘Yes, it’s true / Look, it’s happened to me and you’ (a rejoinder to an earlier AIDS lament, ‘It couldn’t happen here’). London is a place in which ‘big’ history is made all around us, in which we constantly rub up against grand monuments and memorials; it’s also a place that can find space for the ‘me and you’. At its best, Tennant and Lowe’s songwriting focuses through both of these lenses. Remember ‘Shopping’, seemingly a deadpanned celebration of the personal benefits of the credit boom, but actually a broadside against Thatcher’s privatisations? No eighties band was better at defining the emptiness of consumerist luxury than the Pet Shop Boys, and I’m not just talking about the immortal ‘I’ve got the brains, you’ve got the looks, let’s make lots of money’. Stick on the original version of ‘I want a dog’, and marvel at the boredom of desire; the blank-eyed intonation of ‘oh, you can get lonely’; the killer couplet ‘Don’t want a cat / Scratching its claws all over my habitat’, expressing withering disdain for any mog that ruins Terence Conran’s finest.

In ‘West End Girls’, of course, there are cats and dogs, paws and claws. The greyhounds of Walthamstow (east end boys) and the Persian princesses of Kensington (the girls of the title). Another great juxtaposition, and one that makes London sexy in a constantly surprising way. All sorts of mythologies catch each other’s eyes on the escalators. The Kray brothers lock stares with Charlotte Rampling; there’s a frisson of sexual danger, a possibility of pugilism. But London has to brook its own contradictions in order to survive. It surfs breezily above them, just as the track itself is both shiny and seamy, dark and light. The song is all tensions: African and European (the jazzy trumpet and rich gospel backing vocalist knocking against Tennant’s high white plaint), passive and active, dispassionate and yet full of deep, deep yearning; yet it’s miraculous how these coexist with such effortless panache. These are the frictions of all great British pop, but seldom do they ever sound so exotic and lush. The Pet Shop Boys really did change the game; this is a London both real and imagined, both as good as the real thing and somehow even better. It’s not surprising that it was number one all over the world, including America, and no accident that it even featured prominently in the Olympic shebang last year.

You see, for all the expert satire, it’s easy to forget that the Pet Shop Boys are still actually in love with London, and that its allure will never pall. ‘We’ve got no future, we’ve got no past’, intones Neil in the last verse. In London, you can be someone different every day, ventriloquizing the people around you, learning to walk to their gait; only the present, and your presence matter. Just to be there at all; to be swimming in the tide. East End boys will always chase West End girls, and perhaps vice versa. Northerners and foreigners will always be both repelled and fascinated by the Unreal City. As long as London exists, so will ‘West End Girls’; so will a thousand teenagers from elsewhere dreaming in their bedrooms about ‘running down, underground, to a dive bar in a West End town’. As T.S. Eliot would have it, we shore these fragments against our ruin. Or else, we save ourselves with the power of a synth bass, a crunchy snare and the ecstasy of urban romance.

#Pet Shop Boys #West End Girls #Neil Tennant #Chris Lowe #Article #Text #Music #Video #1985 #80ies #London

[stunudo]

Divided Focus

A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Luke Alvez

Setting: Season 13

Requested: Anonymous

“How about a Ralvez fic where they’re on a case and they’re having sex when they get back to the hotel and Emily (or Penelope or whomever) accidentally walks in on them? Kinda like a small hotel or whatever like when they were on that one case. :)”

A/N: Some smut, some awkwardness, some crime. I kind of made the intrusion intentional, but you’ll see. xoxo Stu

Emily Prentiss spoke to her team gathered in the round table room, the new Unit Chief was certain they had a case in the least expected location.

“Maine?” JJ asked.

“Not just Maine, Houlton, Maine.” Garcia clarified.

“The population of Houlton was roughly six thousand one hundred and twenty three in 2010, considering regional trends, the population hasn’t fluctuated much since.” Spencer Reid’s encyclopedic mind shared with the team.

“Stephen King did gather much inspiration from the secluded reaches of the state.” Tara pointed out.

“Well, this guy is finding victims fairly regularly, a town that small. Someone has had to seen him.” Luke added.

“Right, it’s going to be a tight ship. Small town, small precinct, small accommodations.” Prentiss paused, awaiting the communal groan. “Yes, that means doubling up on rooms.”

“Alright, Simmons, I’m going to do you a solid. You’re rooming with me.” Rossi explained, generously. He leaned back and winked at Alvez, the old Italian read “amore” before it was even wet on the paper.

“Wait, Emily, there is an uneven amount of agents now, who gets the room to themselves?” Spencer had to point out the obvious.

“I do.” Prentiss clarified. “If you have a problem with that, take it up with the chief. Wheels up in twenty.”

JJ and Spencer shared a look, no one dare complain now.

The flight was brisk, landing in the small hobby airport of Houlton International. As Spencer had pointed out; they had a silver lining that the case was called in on a Tuesday, as the airport was unmanned on the weekends. The tiny corner of the state didn’t have government issued SUVs at the ready, so they split between two passenger vans rented from one of the two car rental depots in town.

The police department was attached to the fire department and the town hall. It was, quaint. The mayor and the sheriff were waiting for the team with all the evidence they could muster. They had been severely overwhelmed with the unsub. Luckily for them, the BAU was a well oiled machine. The agents dispersed quickly, each trying to fill in a different set of blanks on their profile.

After aiding the Medical Examiner for most of the morning, Spencer needed to refuel. He and Rossi stopped at the local cafe to grab coffees for the whole team. When they didn’t have Luke’s favorite pastry, Spencer called him for a back up. Rossi rolled his eyes, knowing the special treatment would not have extended to himself or even JJ.

“Hey- yeah, the ME is totally unprepared for the potential remaining victims. – We’re on our way back now– They’re out of bear claws– are you sure? Okay, just wanted to be sure.— You’re welcome. Bye, ba—Alvez.”

“Balvez? That’s an interesting pet name.” Rossi chided.

Spencer balked, “According to Bruess and Pearson, the use of “idiosyncratic communication” or pet names indicate overall relationship satisfaction.”

David Rossi smiled at the BAU’s genius profiler, proud of him and Alvez finding happiness together. “Makes sense to me, kid. I’m buying, but you get to carry the trays, this jacket is new.”

It was almost midnight when the BAU team paired off into their hotel rooms at the Shiretown Inn & Suites just north of I-95. Emily dispersed the room keys and warned everyone that they would be getting a 7am wake up call. The rooms were all adjoining with each other, except for Rossi and Simmons, who had the room at the end of the hall. Alvez had grabbed the first key, putting him and Spencer nearest the split in the hallway. As soon as the door clicked into place, the couple appeared where before there had been two teammates working a gruesome case.

Spencer’s face was savage, his mouth attacking Luke’s neck in hunger. The sloppy kisses scratching as he laid them in a neat row along the crest of Luke’s defined trapezius muscle. Luke’s strong left hand was entwined in Spencer’s untidy curls, his mouth hung open, panting already. With his right, he held Spencer’s lean form to him, needing him closer, fingertips digging the cotton and polyester shirt into the tawny muscles of the genius’s back.

Spencer’s pink lips parted, allowing his unnaturally straight teeth to nip at the bit of Luke’s exposed skin. His large hands were tugging at the hem of Luke’s shirt, his body suddenly over-powering his immense mind. All reason and all work trip decorum were forgotten. Raising his hulking arms, Luke finished Spencer’s efforts, his hands going next for Spencer’s belt as if pulled by some magnetic force.

They moved in time, each removing a new article of clothing, while its wearer finished the discarding upon the well worn carpet. As they approached the bed, Spencer paused in his assault on Luke’s neck and shoulders to take his mouth once more in a sensual, yet sweet kiss. The gentle hum of pleasure resonated through Luke’s broad chest, his hands holding Spencer’s smaller waist in place. Spencer broke the kiss to grab their lube from Luke’s bag. While Luke knowingly removed the scratchy comforter from the bed before Spencer could point out the unhygienic practices of such hotels.

Luke rolled on to the beige blanket and eagerly slipped between the generic white sheets. The cool fabric sent shivers through his naked body adding to the anticipation of what was to come. Or rather, who.

Spencer brought the whole toiletry bag to the bedside table, allowing them less distractions if they got carried away. Spencer tended to be over prepared for the bedroom and yet never thought to pack anything for his go-bag. Luke attributed it to being single for so long; he found it endearing that Spencer never expected sex.

“You’re biting your lip again. Amante, you know what that does to me.” Luke teased, as Spencer approached.

“The image starts in the Orbitofrontal Cortex that sends stimulus to your Amygdala which aids in physiological changes from increased heart rate to vaso-dilation in sexual organs.” Spencer smirked.

“You’re damn right it does. Now get over here.” Luke’s tone was affirming, not demanding. Spencer slid beside his love in the small full sized bed, his body molding around Luke’s side. Luke’s fingers dragged Spencer’s locks back as he began showering Spencer’s defined features with kisses. Luke’s generous lips caressing every inch of the paler man’s face. Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, basking in the adoration.

Luke rolled slowly, kneeling over Spencer, who was propped up with pillows behind his shoulders and head. The kisses migrated south, Luke’s lips floating over the scruff on his jaw, Luke’s tongue darting out over his drastic Adam’s apple. Spencer moaned gently as Luke’s erection rocked against his left hip. Spencer’s left hand stroking Luke’s length tenderly, using his own side to aid in the friction.

Luke gasped, tisking at his boyfriend and removing Spencer’s hand from his sex, placing the hand gently upon Spencer’s chest. This was not Luke’s turn, Spencer was the one who needed to be sated first tonight. “Oh no, mi amor. Primero es tuyo, tal vez segundo también.”

Spencer reached forward, taking Luke’s irresistible mouth in a fierce kiss. The rich syllables of his heritage making his lover a quivering mess. Luke broke away laughing gently, setting Spencer back down onto the deflated pillows, his hands trailing the length of Spencer’s lean abdomen. Luke centered himself between Spencer’s legs. His tongue and lips swirling over the thin muscles of Spencer’s chest, taking care to begin sharing his attention with Spencer’s pulsing cock.

Spencer sighed, his voice hitching as Luke’s masterful mouth found the tip of his sex, expertly swirling his initial desire down his length. Spencer forced his eyes open, his right hand threading through Luke’s crown of curls. Luke enjoyed his hair being played with almost as much as Spencer did and the gentle hum of his appreciation added to the intense sensations of Luke’s oral performance.

The Hispanic agent increased his pace, sending Spencer into the pulses of euphoria. Spencer’s voice cracked and whimpered, encouraging Luke’s efforts. Luke’s own desire calling for contact, he thrust his hips into the mattress, trying to re-focus on Spencer’s pleasure. Luke’s fingers gently massaged Spencer’s balls, placing pressure just behind them, dragging his climax forth.

“What the fuck!” Spencer barked out, his voice deeper than his previous mewling. Luke held back his grin as his drank in all of Spencer’s seed, slowly decreasing his pace as Spencer softened slightly within him. The men had missed the sound of the chain lock on the adjoining door in Emily’s room. They missed their boss’s sleepy voice calling to them.

Not so suddenly, Emily burst through the door to their room. She found Luke’s shocked face hovering over Spencer’s cock at half mast. Spencer’s dark eyes orbs of recalcitrance, his wide mouth a deep grimace. The unit chief in her borrowed terrycloth robe looked between her two agents mid-coitus and nodded.

“Alright then, not prison nightmares?” She verified with Reid. He nodded and swallowed back his usual verbal ramblings. Luke pulled the sheets up to Spencer’s chest and lay beside him once more. Emily wiped away the shock from her bare face. Slowly her usual giving in face formed, she smiled gently at the couple.

“Just try to keep it down? You have only six hours until wake up call, boys.” And with that Emily Prentiss stomped off to her room, securing both doors with a deep click of each latch.

The rest of the case spanned three days of mind numbing profiling, and adjusting the profile as new evidence and victims were found. The team pressed on, Emily making every effort to protect Reid and Alvez’s relationship. After a drawn out confrontation in the parking lot of the Houlton Walmart, the BAU were able to help the tiny municipality with an arrest.

The team celebrated with a delicious meal at The Vault Restaurant in town. It was an early morning take off in the jet, Prentiss and the pilots arranging to depart the usually vacant airfield with local volunteers seeing them off in gratitude. Despite all the trauma they were leaving behind, the BAU knew they had done their jobs and the town would heal together.

Emily sat across from Rossi as they shared a round of cocktails, it was the weekend after all. Emily smiled in amusement of Luke’s expression as Spencer explained the causality of Dr. Who. Rossi peered over his shoulder and chuckled in agreement with her.

“Who would have thought that it would take all that he’s been through before he found happiness?” Emily mused about her good friend Spencer.

“The fact that they survived the past year proves that this happiness isn’t going anywhere.” Rossi added.

Emily watched the senior agent in wonder, not only did he know, he revealed the length of Reid’s and Alvez’s relationship. She should have known, when it comes to romance; Rossi knew it all.

@ralvezmood @dontshootmespence @hotchnerfuckmeup @reidsexualwriting @ralvezforthewin

#criminal minds #spencer reid #luke alvez #ralvez #reidvez #reilvez #ass clowns #ship request #beautiful people in love #fbi bau #reid x alvez #spencer x luke #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfictions #we're all queer here #i just want to admit that i got almost all the spanish on my own #used google translate to be safe though #maine #small town life #unsub #small town charm #smuturday