#also they both wear blue in the last scene | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cheralith · 15 days ago

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my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡

— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.

starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, alcohol consumption (isagi), reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou and maybe kaiser, possessive kaiser a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, enjoy!

— love, isagi yoichi.

The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.

The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.

You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.

"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.

Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.

Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.

"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."

"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."

"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."

You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.

Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.

"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."

You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.

His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.

The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.

There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.

Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.

Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.

He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."

A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"

"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."

"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.

"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"

You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.

You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of, "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.

Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.

Your heart skips a beat.

It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.

It's what's written on it.

Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.

Will you marry me?

Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...

... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.

Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.

He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.

"Well?"

— with all my heart, bachira meguru.

"Meguru, that's cheating!"

"Since when where there rules to tag?!"

You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.

You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.

By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.

He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.

Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.

He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.

Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.

So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.

Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.

You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun, more exciting.

Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the neat outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.

"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.

You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.

Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.

"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.

You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.

With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.

Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.

Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.

MARRY ME?

It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.

"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.

Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.

There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.

Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.

"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"

With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.

You only live once after all.

You nod, whispering a "Yes..."

Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.

Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,

"This still means you're 'it', by the way."

— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.

Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.

His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.

Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.

He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.

Until you came along.

It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.

It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.

It was all so... stupid.

A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.

Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.

They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling much thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.

"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm. This would be the last time he'd do this, he promised himself, just one more time to make sure you were safe to put himself at ease.

You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."

Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time, though there seemed to be a slight lag in your steps.

But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.

He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.

He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.

It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.

You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,

"Good luck. Do well."

Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.

And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.

His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.

A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.

The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin silently grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.

Your eyes soften as you let his love language speak for him, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.

"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.

You nod contently. "Mm hm."

"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."

You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.

The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.

"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.

He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity, despite knowing every detail about you. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.

They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.

The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.

"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.

"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.

"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."

You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.

"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.

"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.

"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.

"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."

A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.

Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.

Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—

"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."

Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.

He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.

He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.

But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.

"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.

You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.

Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.

He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.

"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?

— forever yours, shidou ryusei.

"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.

You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.

Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you for reasons unknown. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.

But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.

So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.

You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.

"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"

You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.

"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"

"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"

You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.

"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"

"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.

You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.

From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill adorned with flora, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs of ten steps each that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.

"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.

By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an boisterous laugh.

"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you nearly face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.

You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."

"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."

Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.

Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.

The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the light of cars on the winding highway that circles around it look like little fairies dancing about.

It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.

A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"

You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.

"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."

"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.

In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.

Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.

Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.

That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.

You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.

"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.

Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"

"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.

"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."

"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."

"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.

Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.

"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."

Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.

But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.

Sure, you could also get loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.

You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...

... but truly, where was the fun in that?

You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.

"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"

Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"

You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.

"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.

Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"

Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"

You can just hear the smirk in his voice as he titters. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.

"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.

You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"

Eventually, he does and his laughter ceases. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.

He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.

"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."

— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.

"I hate you."

... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.

Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.

It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.

The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.

It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.

Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day, his poor opponents having to be in the path of his chaos.

Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.

Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. He saw red. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall. Furniture perched for display suddenly taking on a newer, broken form as he'd punch and destroy them.

"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this! Who the hell is this shithead, even?!"

In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.

Peace be upon him. Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.

Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced back to that small child on the kitchen floor, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.

So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care and savoring every bit of it when you did grant it to him and only him.

Yet a twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.

He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction to both Kaiser's pride and disdain.

In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.

But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does. You'd scold him for something small and he'd do everything in his power to reverse your disappointment, showering you in expensive gifts and lavish experiences to make up for it. It was pathetic, really, how quick he was to beg for forgiveness without even uttering the word "sorry."

He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge. But he can't seem to push you away no matter how hard he wants to try to. Because he knows at the end of the day, he'll come crawling back to you in some manner.

You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.

But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over, his bossiness and urgency clear in his tone over the phone call.

"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."

Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene that brings a solace back to him.

You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.

"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"

He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor in its pain oddly enough.

So he's here now. A few years later, officially your boyfriend after years and years of torturous pining in which the end of it came from what was essentially him spatting out a confession, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.

Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.

"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.

"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.

"No, but—"

"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."

Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.

"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.

"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.

You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.

"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. Ness is sure Paris still has some guillotines leftover from the Revolution somewhere in the Palace of Versailles or deep in the catacombs, so Kaiser would surely find a way somehow.

So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.

"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"

"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.

Ah, there he is. The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries. Perks of him being your boyfriend and not your enemy.

Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.

There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.

It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.

"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.

"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."

"You hope?" you repeat, clearly amused with a singular brow raising.

"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.

Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.

Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly, all the while gazing at you.

"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.

You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.

Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing.

"I hate you. You know," he states all too simply.

"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got even mildly annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."

He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.

"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."

You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing when the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.

"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."

"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring manner.

Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.

"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.

He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,

"... yes."

a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting

but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!

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samodivaa · 10 months ago

Text

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?” he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name” ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in.

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words: “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

“I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

“You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

“His name is Vlad”

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

“What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

“Try me” he says softly.

“Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

He chuckles “Red”

“Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

“Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid” he answers, this time winking at you “I know everything about you, sweetheart” he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

“I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

“Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level. “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs. “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad.

“You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp. “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement. “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress.

“You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

“Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

“Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy)

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain. “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight” He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel. “What did you do when you went out?” “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested. “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity. “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come. “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear. “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him.

"How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt. “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

“Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him.

“I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #winter soldier

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agatharkn3ss · 5 months ago

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Rio's flower theory (contains spoilers!)

Some people have noticed how Rio's flower kept making appearance in the last episode, so naturally I re-watched it for the 100th time, and made note of every moment we see the flower because I have a theory...

First appearance - Rio presents it to Agatha when she crawls out of the ground

Agatha pushed it out of her hand, but it's unclear what happens to it - I thought maybe it looked like she put it in her coat pocket, but actually I think she just threw it to the ground, she would be too angry to keep it. And so we see the flower back in Rio's hands when she merrily hops along the Road. She doesn't stop playing with it even when they stop to look at the trial house.

The flower (and also her knife) is also present in the trial. As we saw with Agatha's locket, amulets and Joe's spell book, the trial seems to let the witches keep things that are important to them.

When they exit the trial, frantically trying to save Teen, Rio is back playing with the flower again, silently observing Agatha.

This continues until the campfire. Seriously, why is this girl stimming so much?

The interesting bit is when Agatha returns from Teen. Her hands are in her pocket, so we can't see whether she's holding something in her hands or if she's taking something from her pocket. But in the next frame, as she sits down to join the coven, she has that flower in her left hand! I think Rio must have put it on the seat, waiting for her. There are some interesting looks!

Finally, when Rio gets up to go after Agatha, the camera pans out and we see the flower has actually been left back on the log, where Agatha sat... What is the meaning of it?....

So in summary, the flower has some deeper meaning to Rio and she seems to really treasure it, maybe even use it as a stimming device, maybe trying to control her emotions?

Enter the Marvel promo for Death tarot card!

In one hand, we see Death holds her dagger (looking familiar?), in the other hand she holds an object that people believe to be Death's black heart. But it also reminds me the shape of a flower. So what if Rio's flower IS her heart? That she keeps offering to Agatha?

But I wonder if Agatha realises the meaning of the flower yet. In ep.1 she looked a little surprised when Rio says she does have a heart, that it's black and beats for her. It would be hard to believe that if these two were an item for centuries, that they wouldn't end up knowing everything about each other. So Agatha's "you don't have a heart" could just be a snarky, hurtful comment to reflect Rio's possible betrayal (the "job" she had to do) or a more literal fact that she doesn't believe Rio can be truly human in any physical way (no heart, no scars), because she's Lady Death. Or both. So maybe Rio hid that part from her? They certainly seem like they didn't even talk and reconcile after the dramatic events because Agatha seems surprised at Rio's hurt and regret when she tells her "scar story".

Anyway, I digress... In short, I think flower is (or at least symbolises) Rio's heart.

Bonus content - we actually get a glimpse of that flower in ep.1 as it makes its appearance even in Agatha's fake reality. Even though the camera angles make it impossible to see it most of the time, there are scenes when Rio moves her head just enough that we can see a bit of her her clip - which looks eerily like the flower!

While there was no actual flower in their ep.1 fight scene, Agatha is wearing a flowery robe and the wallpaper is all flowers. So I think there is a deeper symbolism there that the show is trying to subtly incorporate - does it all link to the Green Witch powers? Or the language of flowers?

Even Teen places a flower on Sharon's grave, where would he even get it from in that dark place? And finally, Jen uses blue flowers when they summon the green witch (Lilia offers a rock, Agatha adds a leaf and it's not clear what Alice adds - some dust or fruit?)

So... after all that, I don't actually know anything about plants or gardening. So does anyone know what type Rio's flower even is? I mean, there literally is a flower called Rio, could that be a hint or is it too simple?

EDIT: My bad, Rio is a proprietary company name who sells those flowers. But what about this flower called Surprise Lily? (also called Resurrection Lily!) Doesn't look quite like Rio's but I like the name as it would be quite funny if it was true...

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza #rio vidal #agatha all along spoilers #agathario #agatha x rio #vidarkness #flower #agatha all along theory

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

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you're in the wind, i'm in the water

hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers with a pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw). this is pure brainrot so suggestive at the end. but also fluffy and soft. also reader wears a two piece swimsuit.

a.n: again, sanest response i could have to this hyune. please enjoy my descent to madness :) also the last scene is heavily inspired by my favorite dialogue in the song of achilles!!

pt. 2- orange

The first time you went on a vacation with Hyunjin’s family, you were only seven years old.

You don't clearly remember the island his parents took you to, the details of the travel elusive to your memory's grasp. But you remember Hyunjin- his hair darkening under the touch of the saline sea, akin to a night sky devoid of its stars. You remember the dimple on his left cheek- the sheer pride in you each time you managed to bring it to light. And you remember thinking that Hyunjin was pretty, for the first time in your small existence.

It's a thought that scorched itself indelibly into your brain, and as the years cascaded by, the branches of your love grew, each leave bearing new adjectives to describe Hyunjin- caring, emotional, talented.

But never yours.

You're both older now, and you see him less since his house is no longer right next to yours, the rhythm of life distancing you both. Hyunjin comes in and out of your life as an ephemeral tide, gently brushing your shores. You cling to the sea shells his oceans sometimes throw at your feet- the rare times when your schedules align, when you can see him beyond the confines of your phone, in pixelated video calls late into the night.

And it seems as if you've caught a rare shell this time- one with an ivory pearl hidden within it. Because you're traveling once again with him.

You're all much different, the passage of time marked you in different, but palpable ways. But your presence with Hyunjin's family still felt just as effortless as it did when you were seven. You never had to second guess what you said or how you acted with them. You were just like running water, flowing naturally within the nooks and crannies of his family.

And at night, under the moon's watchful gaze, your hushed conversations with Hyunjin remained. Beneath a shared blanket knitted by his mom, the warm sand melded with your feet, his dimple appearing once again at every word you uttered. He was still as pretty, perhaps even more so with time's gentle sculpting, molding his features into much sharper ones. It seemed only fitting for a soul as beautiful as his.

"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he had whispered excitedly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, momentarily leaving you breathless- tongue dissolving in your mouth like ivory seafoam.

"You want to kidnap me?" you playfully asked, nudging him.

"You don't want to come with me?" he pouted, his gaze locked into yours, pupils appearing much darker with the absence of the sun, like a boundless ocean. The water was right beside you and yet your only wish was to swim in his eyes.

"I want to," you admitted.

"Anywhere?" he asked, irises trembling slightly as he sought your response. You were both very different, chemicals binding his molecules, and your love for him binding yours. You stood faraway from one another- you in the water and he in the wind, stirring your waves, submerging you in the seas of your longing.

"Anywhere."

...

Faraway land punctures the ocean you're gazing at, crystal blue water filling the small pool Hyunjin took you to. You admit it's a breathtaking view, only your eyes can't depart from Hyunjin's figure.

He jumped into the pool first, while you went to retrieve your camera from your bag. And now you stand by the door, heart caught in your throat, as you watch him swim around. Hyunjin is graceful, in the way he moves his limbs, bending the water to his will. It doesn't look like he's swimming, rather dancing on liquid ground.

Kkami joyfully barks once he sees you, and Hyunjin finally lifts his eyes, locking them with yours. He is pretty, unattainable, a singular star outshining all the celestial light. Foolish of them to even think they could compare.

And he's still not yours.

"I’ll take a picture of you both," you smile softly, willing yourself to conceal the lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin nods, draping his hand over Kkami's body, softly scratching the spot behind his ear. You take the first pic, capturing the tenderness in Hyunjin’s eyes. This one's for you alone.

"Okay, look at the camera," you call out cheerfully, and they both turn to look at you in unison. Though your bodies did not touch, the intensity of Hyunjin's gaze seemed to sear into your skin, igniting a fire within you. Foolish of you to dream of more.

You set the camera aside, before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the cool water. Hyunjin swims towards you, positioning himself between your legs, his warm hand wrapping around your ankle. You want to flee, to go back to to the innocence of seven, to never recognize how pretty Hyunjin is, to avoid the heartbreak of dreaming of someone you'll never have.

"Come swim with me," he pouts, palm pressing against your damp skin. You shake your head, a teasing smile on your face, and he pulls you to him, hands holding your waist promptly to prevent you from sinking under.

You free yourself from his intoxicating hold, before diving into the water, a desperate attempt to get away from him. Because when Hyunjin held your waist, a tenderness so earnest in his eyes it made your heart skip a beat, you dared to imagine a future together. For a fleeting moment you became the ocean and he the sky, merging at the faraway horizon.

Hyunjin dives right after you, and then you both swim around one another, giddy smiles on your faces, your laughter echoing around the room. He tries to drown you, hands gliding across the surface of your skin, making goosebumps ripple in you. You attempt to do the same, but you soon regret it. His skin was smooth, taut muscles flexing under your touch; broad shoulders you wrapped your arms around, trying to push him down. Your hand accidentally brushed against his pulse, and you removed it as if it had burned you. There is life beating within him, wildly. But not for you. Never for you.

"Wait, hold on. Your straps are loosening," he notices, reaching for your arm and spinning you around, your back now facing him. "Can I?" he asks, voice dipping to a lower timber. You feel it in the depths of your stomach, depths only he can unravel.

"Yes," you whisper, as he undoes the loose knot of your swimsuit, the one behind your neck still holding up the fabric against your skin. You can feel his cold breath traveling across your bare back, crystalizing the droplets of water trailing on it. His fingers are a stark warmth as they brush against your spine, fingertips gently grazing your skin, like a delicate feather. You imagine your body is molten wax, and he's the seal stamp pressing onto you, molding you whichever way he'd like.

He's tentative as he grabs the undone straps, wrapping them in a knot. Or at least attempting to. You can tell that he's shaking, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. "Im sorry, I didn't tie it well," he giggles sheepishly, undoing the knot once again. You don't reply, unsure of what words will stumble out of your mouth. 'I don't mind you touching me' instead of 'it's okay'.

You turn around once he's done, but he doesn't move back, his body mere centimeters away from yours. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight blush creeping up his neck, coloring him in the prettiest shade of crimson. The droplets cascading down his body, forging a tantalizing path you wish you could undergo. His dampened hair, a shade darker than his usual color. His lips slightly parted, rosy as they've always been. His adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously.

And you suddenly can no longer breathe.

Beneath the water, his hand encircles your wrist, a touch so faint you almost believe that you've imagined it. His fingers trail down, holding your palm and bringing it to his face. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale, one you inhale right back in. You're cradling his cheek, his hand right on top of yours, holding it in place.

"Hyunjin..." you start, but he shakes his head, eyes still shut.

"Please," he whispers, "just for a little." and the clouds slightly uncover, a singular sun ray piercing through them- one petal of hope unfurling at his words.

"Don't- don't do this," you plead back, tone tinged with panic. You couldn't have him, not even for a second, not even in a dream. That's the way things are. Two parallel lines, traveling down the same path, forever adjacent, but never merging as one.

Hyunjin plants a soft kiss on your wrist, lips barely brushing against your pulse. You've never truly known gentleness until this moment.

"If I told you that this trip with you is the happiest I’ve been in a while, would you believe me?" he whispers against your skin, head slightly tilted.

You shake your head no.

"If I ask you something would you be honest with me? I'm tired, yn," he says, his voice softening as it always did when he uttered your name. As if the syllables were always coated in honey, even in his sadness, in his anger, and now, in his pleading for you.

"I will," you respond with an equally quiet voice, and yet it resounds loudly around the room, amplified by the consequences looming around the corner.

"Do you want me?" he asks simply, expecting you to easily uncover a secret you've buried for years, to dust the weight of your fear in mere seconds.

You remain silent and Hyunjin deflates a bit, shoulders slumping forward, the dimple in his face vanishing completely.

"Because I'm drowning in my want for you."

A water droplet falls from the strands of his hair, landing softly on his mouth. You follow its descent, as he licks his lips nervously, his hold on your wrist faltering. The wind is gliding across the water- he's offering himself to you. Who are you to ever refuse?

Your lips crash on his before you even realize it, years of longing exploding before your eyes, spilling from your mouth to his in the most vibrant colors. His lips are soft as you've always imagined them, and they move against yours perfectly, as if molded from the same dough, created to meet again and again, in a fervor, and then in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.

You're kissing Hyunjin, and you aren't burning, disintegrating under the weight of longing for someone so unattainable. You aren't Icarus- you flew too close to the sun but it hadn't burned you, instead it embraced you, it's now wrapping its hands around your waist, pressing your chest to its warm one. It's a touch you welcome, one that liquefies in your veins like molten amber.

You wrap your legs around Hyunjin’s waist, as he walks backward until your back is against the pool railing. Your hands are tugging his damp strands, fingers threading through his locks the way sunshine weaves between the leaves. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever had in your life. And you're greedy, you can't get enough of him, so you part for a second only to meet again, his hands digging into your sides. Chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.

"Say it," Hyunjin whispers against your lips, "say that you want me back."

"I want you. So much, Hyune. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted," your words wash over him, erasing every doubt that was anchored in his heart. How could you not have seen it, all this time? In each photograph you took, his gaze, always on you. The fondness in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, only ever coming forth for you.

You lean away, head dipped down to kiss his shoulders. Your lips trail down his collarbones, moving to the mole on his arm. He smells like chlorine, and the sweet scent of your monoi oil. Hyunjin is pretty, Hyunjin is warm, Hyunjin is yours.

Your eyes meet his and you both let out giddy giggles, the flush of your cheeks matching his. His lips are slightly swollen, and he bites the lower one as he glances at Kkami, who was idly watching you both.

"Do you think we traumatized him?" you ask in a hushed whisper.

"I think he's glad this happened and he no longer has to hear my rants about you," Hyunjin smiles sheepishly and you laugh, the sound reverberating through Hyunjin’s heart.

"Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?" he asks, thumb swiping across your cheek with a tenderness that leaves you dizzy in its trail.

"You have," you whisper, the sound of it getting caught in your throat.

"And this?" he gently grazes your cupid bow. "Have I told you how much I love your lips?"

"You haven't," you say, mouth parting slightly at his words.

"This then," he trails across your neck, skimming your pulse. "Did I tell you how I feel about your blush? How it always always starts up your neck? Always so pretty?"

"No," you are breathless now, shuddering under his touch.

"What about this?" his hands hold your waist, kneading the tender flesh. "Did I ever tell you? About this?" They go over your hips, gliding across the bare skin. "Surely I did."

You shake your head. Skin burning up where he had touched it. He smiles, tongue poking against his cheek, hands going to your back, tracing over your spine, undoing the knots of your swimsuit. "And this? Did I tell you how much I want you?"

You close your eyes, wind meeting water. "Tell me again."

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jxckchxmpi0n · 6 months ago

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hi :) love your writing btw

could you possibly do something where jack and actress!reader are both in scream 6 and they’re like really close or in a relationship and she steals one of his hoodies or shirts and he notices while hanging out on sept or in his trailer or something? (prompt being “is that my shirt?”)

tysm ilyyy

Behind the Scenes

Jack Champion x femReader! | m.list

Summary: the on screen relationship started to form off-screen. You and Jack aren't against it.

Warning: just fluff

Word count: 509

Did not proofread.

Ahhh, hi love! I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for requesting this ♡

Edit: first small post <3

There was about a week left to film Scream Six. Over the last few months, you have grown so close with the cast, both you, Jack and Devyn were welcomed with open arms. There was always something fun happening on set with everyone.

And with the last few days of your shoot, you decided to hang out longer on set even if you were done. At some point you and Jack became inseparable. always being at each other's sides having inside jokes. everyone saw the feelings you two had for each other and so did you, but both of you wanted to wait until filming and the press tour were done before going any further.

you were waiting for him in his trailer while he finished shooting his last scene. mindlessly scrolling through your phone you looked up seeing the door open. he came in with his blue shirt with fake blood on the front when he saw you he had this big smile. "oh there you are i was looking for you" he came in and closed the door behind him.

"been here the whole time" you sat up a little bit so he could sit next to you. he had a tired expression "long shoot?" you asked turning to him you rested on the back of the couch holding your head up.

he took the spot next to you closing his eyes for a moment and nodded. you kept quiet knowing he needed the silence. he eventually turned his head to you with a small smile on his lips. "what?" your voice was in a low whisper.

he lets his eyes linger on your face taking in all your little details. his eyes drifted taking in the familiar color jacket. he lifted his head and looked at the jacket closer then looked back at you.

you had a small smile on your face the corners of your lips tugged up as you looked at him. he reached out grabbing the material. then looked back at you. "is- is that mine?" he asked with a softness and with a chuckle following it.

you looked down and smiles "i got cold" you didn't answer his question so he looked at you reached up to lift your chin up.

"did you take my jacket?" he asked his voice soft but also raspy from being tired.

you nodded "i was cold and it was just here on the couch" a big smile took over his face as he thought about how cute you were. his hand brushing your jawline so softly.

"you know i like you wearing it" he said softly. your cheeks filled with a heat as you blushed.

your heart beating fast at this little moment. his chest also pounding from his heart rate. "keep wearing it" he let go of your chin and let his hand rest back into his lap.

you guys stayed in his trailer for another hour just talking and sharing soft little touches. the desire for the press tour and filming wanting to be over faster.

#jack champion #ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #jack champion imagine #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #ethan landry smut #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar spider

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lover-of-mine · 25 days ago

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Thoughts on their wardrobe for that scene?

Oh, baby, so many thoughts.

Okay, so, I'm intrigued about a bunch of things about their clothes. The neutral colors are interesting because the grey is usually attached to Buck freaking out, see 612 on eddies kitchen or 804 when Buck is freaking out about Gerrard.

But Buck has been wearing more sepia tones, especially attached to Tommy and the breakup, so I'm very interested in that grey.

But like, shades matter, so I'm also looking at the blue tint of that grey, the charcoal feeling, it adds to the whole search for his blue, because Buck needs to go back to that feeling of the coming out scene and the acceptance of his feelings and all of the blue attached to his bisexuality.

Because something that happened s7 and 8 is that we aren't seeing Buck in the bright colors we come to associate with him, like, the only fully red outfit he had was the cowbow costume, so the lack of colors as he goes through this is very fun to me, because the second he's back in those brighter tones, we'll know he got it right.

And obviously, how baggy his clothes are is something to take note, before the bisexuality of it all his clothes were too tight, now they're too baggy, because he still hasn't gotten it right. I'm telling you, the second we see him in a well fitted top that's the same shade of blue as the coming out scene, I'm gonna go into cardiac arrest.

And the black tanktop with Eddie, is mostly tied to some internal turmoil? Like when Chris is lying to him in 604. Which adds to the way he clearly doesn't want to move.

Also, with my running theory that Eddie is looking for color (read more here, but it's attached to the blue and yellow theory tag on that here) to have Eddie back in black like he was for most of s7 is a CHOICE. He's clearly ignoring what he actually needs.

Also, the fit of Eddie's jeans is just wrong, like, respectfully what did they do to Ryan's ass, so the fact that both of them are in clothes that fit wrong is telling about the way they don't want to do this.

The fact that it is the color combo of the gym confrontation is a big thing for me here too because the gym is about buck not letting eddie in but then they get to that point where buck dives head first, so to have the separation call back to that feeling has me 👀

You didn't ask, but something else I'm thinking about is the rain. Eddie specifically was tied to the sun last season. To wait for it to rain in LA for them to film this is madness.

And considering on going buddie theories, like the construction on sunset, to separate them in the rain is INSANE. Not only because other times it rained on the show, aka the well and the lighting, aka MAJOR buddie developments, and their general connection to water, it literally opens the possibility for buddie getting together in the sunrise for real. This is literally the stuff of dreams.

#911 #911 spoilers #anon 😌#i really need a tag for asks #911 meta #911 speculation #buddie #clearly going through it #color theory

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palskippah · 2 months ago

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PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBS AND BAL (MOVIE VERSION) ON THEIR WEDDING DAY KISSINF AGHHHH

HII I'm not good at drawing people kissing in the lips but I got these!!

References and some thoughts under the cut!

-One of the ways I imagine them marrying is through the civil (? whatever it's called in English), where Nimona would be right behind Ballister when he's signing like, sign, Ballister, sign the contract now! like that scene in Shrek 4 with Rumpelstiltskin

-Neither of them carried a bouquet, but they got one anyways just to throw it (Ambrosius did)

-Apparently in some Mexican weddings they throw the groom in the air to celebrate him and I love the idea, so both Ballister and Ambrosius get thrown in the air djfkdf

>(better if they're part of the crowd that is throwing them, and then it's them catching eachother when they fall aaa)

-Also the dancing, imagine it with any sort of music in the background and both of them dancing together and then just deciding to have fun on their own and doing whatever dance moves, even if they have nothing to do with the music (like there's cumbia sounding and Ambrosius is doing the gangnam style and Ballister is throwing it back or something 😭)

-They have a lot of fun wooo

-Also wanted to draw them in traditional clothes too wiwiw I hope you know what I mean with the 'groom pose' sjdksd both hands held in front of them

-Based this (unfinished) thingy on a TikTok I saw of 'if I (anxious person) were to get married' and thought of both of them but drew it with Ambrosius.

-It goes like:

Ambrosius: Hey! So- Just wanted to confirm, is the wedding still on? (Ballister answers) Ambrosius: Yes? (Ballister says something) Cool! I'll see you there then! Ambrosius, in his blue wedding clothes: I'll be the guy in blue. (Ballister says something) Yeah! Okay, bye, love you :D

>And at the other end of the thing, there was Ballister all nervously rambling to a very bored Nimona about what if Ambrosius calls it off last minute? Or what if he regrets marrying me right now? I can't just ask either, that'd be- and then there's the call and he's like, yes, it's still on! :D Yes I know, and remember I'll be wearing a dark sherwani. See you there, love you too :D

>And then they're both a bit more relaxed with that sjdfks (they're some rooms away from each other)

>[btw, those are supposed to be Ambrosius' moms helping him get the final details in his clothes done, like patting him to iron out the sleeves (they're ironed already) and placing his headwear and stuff]

-They're still pretty nervous tho, so, based in a video I watched, imagine them like:

Person marrying them: Now, I, Ballister. Ballister and Ambrosius, at the same time: I, Ballister- Ballister: ? I'm Ballister. Ambrosius: No, it's me. Ballister: Oh, okay. Ballister: No, wait what--

-Ambrosius: Hi, I'm Ballister's husband :D

>Ambrosius: This is my husband, Ballister. We're married :DD

>Ambrosius: We're the Goldenhearts :DDD

-(some of the references)

That's it!

#nimona #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister boldheart #goldenheart #my art #the page with red drawings is mostly based on a video of two people marrying in Mexico and they seem to be having so much fun #in one the bride tripped on her dress when dancing and the groom was doing the gangnam style and i found it funny djfkdf #nimona is barely here but I'm more focused on goldenheart djfkdg #I don't like how that drawing of Balli carrying Ambrosius bridal style came out but i don't want to just leave it there djfkd so I added it

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kabr0ztrousers · 2 months ago

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Kabr0z Writes Episode 3: A very bad idea, part 1

Find yesterday's entry here

CWs: usual gratuitous sex scene; demon summoning; serious dubcon, probably noncon when you think about it; heavy cumflation; horror themes; hyper-genitals; it's a lot today, folks

Author's note: Jesus H Christ this one got away from me. It gets good after about halfway but I feel like I spent too long setting up. Ah well, live and learn. I'm also trying something a little new where I'm linking the next few episodes together, so this one, episode 4, and episode 5 will follow on from one another.

There's basically no plot, so do what you want with that, but it's a fun thought.

With that aside, enjoy!

##########################################

It was a bit of a tradition now, whenever Heather was in town you'd get the lowest-rated book on a topic from the internet and take the piss out of it over a few bottles of your favourite red wine. Well, this week the wheel had spun, and landed on Demonology as a topic.

You thought about just saying screw it, and choosing another, but as you browsed the web for a terrible book, you saw it: "My First Book of Shadows" by Creedle and Crabnuts. The store listing alone was comical, from the pictures it looked like it had been printed out at home, badly trimmed to size and haphazardly stapled together. It was perfect. Two minutes later, and £5 lighter, it was on its way, predicted to arrive a couple of nights before her.

You leafed through the book when it arrived, barely a magazine really, and saw it contained what purported to be step-by-step directions to call forth a denizen of Hell, including a list of materials and guides to pronounce the chants.

Something about it... It called to you.

You don't know what came over you, but before you knew it you were walking around the high street, gathering incense sticks, candles, chalk, and a razor-sharp knife.

Heather arrived at your door on Friday evening, you had the house to yourself until at least Sunday afternoon and so we're busy in the living room. Your hands were covered in chalk dust in shades of white, blue, purple and red. The incense smoke was already filling the whole house with heady aromas of bergamot, cloves, camphor and myrrh.

She knocked again, snapping you out of your reverie. Still dressed in your dressing gown (robes are expensive, it turns out) you flung open the door and hugged your friend tight. "I have a surprise for you!"

"What? You've had the place fumigated?" Heather laughed, her voice lilting and sweet in the chill of the fading light.

"Better, come and see" you grabbed her by the hand and took her into the room where your circle lay, half finished, on the laminate floor

"Taken up a cult?" Heather's laughter hadn't stopped yet, then she saw the book open on the floor "Or started without me?" Mock-pouting now as she opened a bottle and started to pour the wine

You lent Heather your other bathrobe and as she pulled it on you couldn't help but see a small pile of her other clothes in the corner. Was she wearing anything under there? You guessed it fits the theme, and you'd been half hoping tonight would take that turn anyway, so you didn't say anything.

Together, you worked on the circle, both on hands and knees to trace the delicate runes and lines onto the ground. A few times Heather's gown rode up and the sight of her pink lower lips told you that, yes, she was completely naked under there.

You finished up, and knelt at opposite sides of the floor, gazing into the circle you'd drawn. Maybe a little smudged in places, but you weren't expecting anything to really happen as you recited the chants. The unfamiliar words felt strange to get your mouth around. As you came to the last few syllables you could have sworn the candles flickered, the incense grew more intense, the chalk lines began to smoulder. You raised the knife in your right hand and drew the point across your left.

That's when you realised your mistake.

The first drops of blood began to boil on your palm. The room became hot, and dry, like a desert wind blowing in your face. Gone were the scents of the incense, replaced with the smell of hot metal, searing meat, ozone, blood.

A noise, somehow the opposite of a bang. A dazzling flash. The guttering candles now ablaze and belching thick, black smoke that billowed down their sides like tar. You could see the fear in Heather's eyes, but neither of you could move. You were transfixed by what had appeared in the centre of the circle.

Too tall, too skinny, it hovered 6 inches off the ground. Spindly legs, 4 spindly arms, pencil-necked and sharp faced. Bald and with curved metal shards forming a shattered halo above its head. It blinked its four angular eyes and spoke with a voice that somehow echoed before you heard it

"Hail! I am Simizel! Viscount of the pit of Ashen Despair, Lord Commander of the seventeenth regiment of the Damned. Who are you to call me?"

You struggled to make any noise, throat dry and gasping for air. Simizel looked around at both of you, then down at the circle below him. "Wait, that's not right" he mused, "That's nonsense, that's spelled wrong, that's right, but in the wrong place, and..."

He looked at you

"It's a little irregular to ask, but what binding spell did you two use?" He was still looking at the ground quizzically as you rose to your feet

"Binding spell?" You croaked, eyes streaming

"Yes, to bind me, you know, so I don't just kill you both and go home?"

His eyes widened and his mouth grew into a wide smirk as he realised what had happened. He reached for the crumpled and charring pamphlet on the floor and skimmed it.

His smirk turned to a chuckle, then a laugh, then a cackle

"By my name! Someone thought they were very clever, didn't they?" He either couldn't disguise his mirth, or wasn't trying very hard "You just copied out any old rubbish and slit yourself open!"

A wave of his hand. You and Heather were floating in front of him now. "I haven't been amused like this in centuries. For being such fun, I'll give you girls some gifts"

He flicked his wrist and both of your gowns burned away, leaving you naked and glistening with sweat and fear

"First, if you want to try this again in the future, do it properly." He gestures at the book and it burns away, replaced with a wax-sealed scroll "That will summon an old friend of mine, just break the seal, read the words, and out he will come"

"Next, I'll make sure I don't leave behind any cambions" His clawed fingers etched patterns into your and Heather's skin. You tried to struggle against the pain, but your body was under his spell. In a few moments of etching, he had carved glowing sigils into the flesh just above each of your pubic bones.

He smiled, almost warmly, "Knowledge, and a boon, normally gifts like these would cost a soul, but I feel generous tonight, so I will simply take my fill of your bodies."

The spell keeping you aloft broke, and you dropped to the floor in a heap. You looked up at him and wondered how you could have missed it: between his pale thighs hung a pendulous, rapidly hardening cock. Your belly began to ache and your mouth water. What had come over you?

You started to crawl over to him, dimly aware Heather was doing the same next to you. Reaching up for this amazing rod as it grew longer and thicker than any human would have, flared at the head like a horse's and knotted at the base. You weren't sure how it was going to fit inside you

You knew you were going to make it.

You started kissing the end, as Heather began sucking on his gravid balls, each one the size of a grapefruit. Simizel cradled your face in his hand, fingers still bloody from marking you, then lifted you up with a gesture.

Upside-down now, you could see a rope of glittering precum hanging from his cock as it pulsed against your lips. You held out your tongue to try and taste it.

As soon as your lips parted it was in your mouth. You felt like your jaw would break. You didn't care. His tongue was at your pussy, licking your clit furiously and making you shake. You tensed up as you came, hips bucking against his face.

He pushed you down. The too-thick cock forcing its way down your throat and making you gag. You couldn't breathe. You still didn't care. You didn't care as you felt somehow even more tongues at your clit, invading your pussy, pushing into your asshole

He started thrusting. You felt as though you could split in half. Some dark power was keeping you conscious as you felt the end of his cock moving up and down in your belly. The thrusting got harder and faster until the knot was driven past your lips and started swelling in your mouth.

His tongues were still at your cunt. Your body squeezing against him as repeated orgasms rocked you. You could feel yourself squirting fluid into his face as he fucked your mouth open even wider

His cock must have been in your stomach now, bottoming out and stuck in you. You could feel it pulsing and could see his balls pumping in front of your face as your belly began to swell with the volume of fluid gushing into you. You tried to scream, in pain, in ecstasy, you're not sure, but the vast mass stuffed inside you prevented any sound escaping.

Heather was still cradling his balls in her hands as she kissed you, licking the base of his cock where it was jammed into your face, tasting where his fluids were leaking out of the sides of your mouth. Her eyes were empty but for lust as she rubbed her hands over her clit, her hips bucking erratically

The knot began to loosen and pull away from you. You felt hands on your hips lifting you from the demonic shaft as it pumped ever more into you, until it slipped free. You saw it hang, still pumping potent demon-seed and painting your friend's naked body in sticky, viscous white as she screamed her way to another full-body orgasm.

The world came back into relief and you realised you were panting and moaning, the tongues bringing you to your peak again and again. Pain rocked your body in between waves of pleasure as you came over and over, cum leaking from your mouth and throat as Heather stood below.

The demon wasted no time, repositioning himself under the two of you on the floor, one pair of impossibly strong hands on your hips as you rode his face, the other positioning your friend's ass over his impossible cock, still leaking and pulsing.

You heard her gasp and call out as it entered her ass, stretching her out and filling her immediately. Again and again he pushed in, her belly growing larger and larger with the size of him and the fluids he emitted. Your orgasmic cried mingled as your mind blanked and you passed out.

You don't know how long it was having its way with Heather, but when you came to you were lay on the floor watching it pull out of her pussy, her ass and throat leaking fluids and her gurgling moans of pleasure filling your ears.

Simizel looked at you and you wordlessly rolled onto your back, legs opened for him. He strode over to you, leaving your friend lying on her side in a pool of his semen and her own squirt.

He loomed over you and pressed himself against your aching hole. You gasped as it pushed in, stretching you around its immense girth. He was at your cervix already, and showed no signs of stopping. You screamed out as it pushed deeper in, lubricating its movement with a neverending stream of thick cum. Your eyes rolling as your orgasm rocked you again and again until he was again at the hilt. You weren't sure how much longer you could take it as he pumped litre after litre into you, the fluids spraying out of you even despite the knot holding him into you.

You passed out again.

This time you woke up and he was gone. Heather was where he left her. Sunlight was starting to eke in through the drawn curtains. You felt your belly, round and full, it sloshed around as you moved towards the bathroom to expel as much of the spunk left in your ass and your cramping womb as you could.

As you stood you felt the mark he left on your skin, it wasn't glowing now but still remained, red and cauterised by the heat of his claws.

You heard movement, Heather was awake and groaning. Her eyes met yours. They were still empty, there wasn't anything there but lurid desire. Your heart dropped as you lamented what he had done to her, before you realised where she was moving to

The scroll

She broke the wax and opened the paper before you could reach her on your shaking legs. She read the words and the walls began to shift.

A purple light suffused the room

You weren't done yet.

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inksoakedparchment · 3 months ago

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I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trope: strangers to friends to lovers

word cunt: 888

tw: swearing

a/n: maybe my life gives me inspo

You’ve been hanging around with Mattheo and his friend group for a few weeks now because of a project. A documentary about astronomy. Last week Mattheo invited Theodore Nott too - who’s the cameraman - and both of you started to open up to each other. Something feels strange around him but you can’t figure it out. He’s sweet, kind and clearly a nerd. At least you think he’s a nerd. His tattoos are gorgeous, but his look is not your type. Skinny, light brown hair with blue eyes. You think Theo is too skinny for you because you’re a little bit plus size. You texted him on Instagram on one of the team meetings which was at Mattheo’s place but he only replied the next morning. You two started chatting about every topic, surprisingly deep topics. Like what do you want to do when you’ve finished high school? They’re all older than you, so yeah. Mattheo and Enzo - they’re in the same school as you - are nineteen years old, Theo - he’s working as a cameraman and photographer - is twenty-two, Blaise - same school - is eighteen and Draco - your classmate - is the same age as you. Sixteen.

Mattheo called you this morning, “forcing” you to do a sleepover because of the project - Enzo, Theo and you are writing the script - but Blaise and Draco can’t come over. Of course, you agreed, also you can only stay til midnight. He said it’s okay, maybe another time you can sleep over. The sweet Enzo picked you up. Then you arrived and went to Mattheo’s living room, who’s not home yet so you’re gonna be alone with Theo and Enzo for an hour. And he was there. Lying on the couch, scrolling social media platforms.

“Hey, wassup?” Theo gets up and hugs you quickly.

“Nothing special. Just tired, as always,” you smile at him. “What about you?”

“Everything’s alright, thanks,” he smiles.

Then you sit down on the armchair and pack your things out of your bag. Laptop, chargers and the colouring book with markers - which Enzo asked you to bring over. Theo notices them and he immediately gets excited. He tried the colours while smiling like a kid. So damn adorable. He shows you his Funko pop collection.

“So there’s my Marvel collection,” he zooms on them. “Loki with Sylvie obviously, Tony, Natasha,” he would continue but you cut him off.

“Bucky? Wanda? Where are the best characters?” you sigh dramatically.

“I don’t have them,” he grins. “But I have to admit Joe Locke in Agatha all along is hot. Have you seen it?”

“I started it, but I haven’t finished it yet,” you smile. He’s gay? Or what? Bisexual? You can’t decide, he has many signs of being fruity. You’ll see so never mind.

“So cool series, you should continue,” he smiles.

After that three of you talk about relationships where you find out that he had two one-year-long relationships with girls. Still suspicious but you have to admit it’s a green flag. He’s not a player. His last date was one year ago. And you realize. You like him, so damn much. His mind is working really well, he’s intelligent and sweet too. Also, he’s fine. But the skinny body is something you want too. You can’t wear his hoodies, can’t sit on his lap because you’re scared of breaking his bones with your weight. But oh man, how you would like to do all of this with him.

“Can I try it?” you point at his camera.

“Of course, come here I’ll show you how to use it,” he smiles widely and starts to explain the buttons. Then you take some behind-the-scenes photos of Enzo and Theo. You take photos of Theo’s hands, his side profile and his smile. He’s mesmerizing.

“Damn, these are good. Y/N you’re doing this really well,” he pets your head with a grin.

“Thanks, I guess,” you shrug.

At midnight you’re about to call a taxi to take you home when Theo grabs your hand.

“I’ll take you home, okay? It’s not a big deal,” he smiles softly and you nod.

“I would be thankful.”

“Come,” he picks up his car keys while you hug both Enzo and Mattheo as a goodbye.

You and Theo sit in the car and he starts driving.

“So,” he clears his throat “Did you enjoy the meeting?”

“Of course. I liked the photographer me the best,” you laugh softly.

“Me too,” he bites his lower lip. “I wondered about that would you like to go on a date with me? I thought about we could go out for a coffee and take photos with my camera,” he shrugs nonchalantly, but his red face tells everything.

“I’m in,” a big smile spreads on your face.

“Glad to hear,” he parks down in front of your home. Theo leans closer then gently kisses you and you smile in the kiss.

“See you on the date. Text me the details,” you say with shining eyes and then you get out of his car. “Good night, Theo”

“Good night, Y/N,” he says quietly and then the radio starts playing ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ by Arctic Monkeys. He giggles because goddamn it fits perfectly. This is what he feels right now.

✨if you wanna be on my taglist, comment<3

taglist: @sunkissedscribbles @kandis-mom @idkkkkkkk123lgb @nottslvttt

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miwiheroes · 6 months ago

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Full Airport Scene Analysis

I've seen like, a lot of people do analyses of the airport scene, but they often do it in parts when I just want to fully hone in on the whole ass scene and give it a full run-down. So, get ready for this post to be extremely long.

So, the camera pans across from Argyle and Jonathan looking super bored and tired to both Will and El, and I think this is actually very clever. Before this scene, you're not really sure who Will is in love with or who he made the painting for. The fact that the audience may remember El saying 'i think there is someone he likes' and then see how Will is holding the painting so proudly means that they subconsciously realise, oh the painting is for Mike meaning -- Will has feelings for Mike. Note how the juxtaposition between Argyle and Jonathan's demeanour and Will and El's demeanour further showcases how they feel the same way about him (supposedly).

Also this is random, but watching this scene over and over again made me realise that Will's is literally shaking so much in this scene. (WATCH HIS HAND WHEN EL IS LOOKING FOR MIKE)

youtube

Now let's talk about Mike's outfit (yes this isn't just talking about how ass it is)

So in the amazing GQ video on youtube, the costume designer talks about how Mike probably bought this outfit at the airport. He's dressing up how he thinks he should in California -- the double meaning being that he is trying to 'be more normal' as Finn Wolfhard says in another interview.

In this scene we know that Mike's trying really hard to push down his feelings about Will, he's trying to seem like he fits in, and in the GQ video, Amy Parris talks about how 'it's bright, it's not a colour Mike normally wears'. Orange and purple? Mike usually wears blue..... and yellow........... i mean what

I guess you could say that in a more surface-y way, he's trying to fit in by wearing something less edgy than he would normally wear, but if you look deeper into the colour coding of byler, he's trying to disconnect himself from Will because of him trying to deny his feelings. Will is wearing blue in this scene, but Mike's wearing orange, showing the disconnect between them in the scenes with these outfits on. I know a lot of people say he's wearing yellow, but nah, it's orange and that's actually more proof that he's trying to hide his feelings for Will.

Also this is another quote from Parris: 'he's worn teal before, so it felt like orange was the best colour that was different from his closet that felt like he was trying to make it work in california.'

And it's not like they just forgot the colour coding for byler. I mean, there's blue and yellow in this shot of Mike when we first see his outfit.

Can you spot it?

Okay moving on

In the first and last Milkvan kissing scene, it is important to note that the directors of the show are very intentional with the extras and where they move to during the scenes. During the shot of them kissing, the camera is focused on them, yes, but it is very busy. Watch the shippers try to edit this scene, the duffers really said.

Firstly, Mike is wearing a visor, he's holding a bag so he can barely hug her, he's also wearing sunglasses inside?? You can't see his facial expression, further showing this season is not in his pov. Not only that, but people are moving in front of the camera, it's very very busy. It's supposed to be a little overwhelming. I could barely take a screenshot without someone walking in front of the camera... like that is not a coincidence, they aren't filming in an actual busy airport. So so many extras walk in front of them during the whole scene, not just the kiss, but while they are speaking as well.

When El goes to hug him, as soon as she does, he makes a little noise of protest or something and is like 'careful, careful' almost like he put the flowers in front of them on purpose so there's like an excuse for them to stop hugging? They then stop hugging and he finally takes off his glasses so we can see his face.

He is wearing sunglasses only in the parts where he's being slightly intimate with his girlfriend -- eyes are windows into the soul, no? Without them being seen, you wouldn't be able to tell what he is thinking, and he needs these in these intimate moments especially, in case anyone notices something's wrong.

Okay now we go onto the flower theory thing, and there are many things to unpack here, and stuff that I personally don't believe, and some theories that I do.

What is super clear to me is that these flowers are the exact same dead flowers that El picks up at the end of season 4 to signify that her relationship with Mike is.... dead (sorry if that's kind of on the nose). However, it is also key to note that Mike says that he 'handpicked' them for her in Hawkins, which on the surface makes it seem like he made more effort, but really this actually sets up the fact that they are the same flowers that can be found on the field. If he bought them in the shop, they may not be the exact same flowers in the last scene.

So Mike says 'I know you like yellow, but now I'm realising it's too much yellow'. The writers of the show did not have to put that in, let's just think about that for a moment. What was the reason for putting this line in? And the '70-30' split line is also very very specific.

Will's colour in the byler colour coding is yellow, it has been subconsciously put into our minds ever since they started colour coding them, for example the s3 netflix icons, the shirt he wears for the majority of s4 and the lights over his head in Rink-o-mania.

Personally, I think this might be a bit of a reach, but could Mike just simply mean that he was thinking too much about Will, in his opinion? Like subconsciously he kind of added lots of yellow because he was thinking of Will when he was thinking of El.

As for the 'So I sort of did a 70-30 split thing' line, I'm not really sure what this means. It could mean that he's putting in 30% of the relationship because he also added 30% purple flowers which symbolises what he's putting into the relationship. Meanwhile, El's favourite colour of flower has a 70% weight in the bouquet, meaning she's putting more into the relationship.

It's also worthy to see that El looks at the note which has 'From, Mike' on it right as he's saying all this stuff about the yellow flowers, and the music dies down from this joyful tone to a sombre one, kind of showing how the yellow flowers are a symbol for something.

Now, before this ^^, the only problem that we think is going on in Mike and El's relationship is the fact that El's lying to him about having friends and not being bullied. But now we have a possible reason. She is insecure about their relationship and how real it is. Her face says everything, she notices it, she then tries to ignore it and tells herself everything is fine.

The audience notices this, obviously, and is like??? wait what's going on? Why does it say 'from Mike'?

They get the answer real quick.

Because right after this, is when Will bounds over.

They shot it so that he's kind of in between them, subconsciously placing a thought or idea in the audience's head about what the problem is between Mike and El, even though it's very implicit at this point. The audience should also have the slight idea in this scene that Will has feelings for Mike, and they get reminded of this fact when they see Will in the background. They're then like.... oh so that's why they having problems? Damn....

Before El even stops speaking, Mike sees Will. We can tell from the way that he literally takes his eyes off El and goes 'oh,' before doing the second 'oh!'. I bet if this was shot so you could see his face, this would be way more obvious, but they shot it so that we could see Will's initial happiness at seeing Mike instead.

Awkward bro hug... um yeah so this is one of the biggest byler proofs to me. I mean, why would you need to hug your best friend like that? When you are perfectly fine at hugging your other male friends? (He hugged Dustin in the first episode btw).

Given everything that we know so far, that Will has feelings for Mike because he made him the painting that El said is for someone he likes; that there must be problems going on in the Milkvan relationship; that Mike is hiding his face and dressing unlike normal.... yeah he's trying to repress something. He won't let himself hug his best friend. Will is acting normal, they could have made him the one not to hug Mike because he is in love with him, but they didn't.

Also, unlike the Milkvan reunion, his face and his reaction can be very easily seen here. They literally zoom in on both their reactions to seeing each other because it is more important than Mike and El's reunion. This is what the scene is about!! It's main focus is on the development of byler and the breakdown of Milkvan. There are like very little extras passing across the camera because the directors want you to focus on their reactions here and how Will and Mike are feeling.

Obviously, Will is dejected but Mike's reaction is more telling. On the right gif, he looks down. Maybe he sees Will's painting and remembers what El told him, which was that it was for someone that Will likes. In my opinion, Mike does not know that it is for him. In Finn's words: 'I don't think he knows'.

After seeing that painting, he instantly looks to other people for their reactions to the hug, maybe being like, hey guys was that normal enough? Did anyone see that? Showing how he cares about the opinions of those around him or maybe that he doesn't want to look at Will for much longer idk.

After that...

Okay so now he's ready to ask about the painting. There's a beat, then he asks 'Uh, what's that' in this kind of breathy, panicky voice. It's not a casual tone at all, it's very tense, and the audience can tell, because this makes the audience tense too. When I first watched it I was like AHHH because oh shit. He asks it like he knows something is up with it, he knows that Will made it and it's significant.

The next shot is a slide-up from the painting to Will's face. This could be in Mike's pov to show that he was looking Will up and down, and this shot is inherently kind of romantic in that way. Either that or it's simply just to focus on the painting before showing what Will's going to say so that the audience know he's talking about the painting.

You can kind of see the cogs working in Will's head in the very little time between 'um' and 'it's nothing', as he realises that he probably shouldn't show Mike the painting based on how Mike didn't hug him.

Also notice how in the gif, an extra walks by the camera as soon as Will is not entirely truthful, so why would this not be done with El and Mike's reunion scene??

Now, this further pushes the agenda that Mike didn't hug Will because of his feelings for him. The audience already knows that this painting is supposed to be a gift for someone that Will 'likes' based on El's letter to Mike at the beginning. The fact that Will no longer feels comfortable with sharing that painting means that he is more unsure of Mike's feelings now that he's seen him irl.

However, the way that Mike goes cool is supposed to be weird. It's supposed to show the audience that he's pretending. I honestly don't know whether it's bias or the directors or the writers or the actors somehow made it this way but the speed at which Mike says 'cool' kind of just implies that he was not ready for that kind of confrontation. He was not ready to confront his feelings or enter into an interaction with Will about the painting. Because it means he can't deny the fact that he's jealous of Will having a crush on some girl. So he quickly shut it down.

He doesn't want to feel the disappointment that Will just basically confirmed the painting isn't for him.

In season 3, he is very interested in knowing who Suzie is, Dustin's girlfriend, but when he knows that Will has made a painting for a girl he likes, he doesn't bother asking at all what it is or who the girl is. He doesn't want to acknowledge it.

Also, the fact he wasn't ready to feel like this and is so focused on Will is shown by how startled he is by other people breaking the moment.

Now this next part is so funny given what we have already been presented with. We already know that Mike is self-conscious about hugging his supposed best friend, and that he does not want to confront his feelings about the painting. He is trying to be someone else because he is wearing unusual clothes for him, trying to seem like a normal person in California. He didn't want to hug his best friend because he wants to seem normal. He's out of character.

"Oh no, no. It's a shitty knockoff."

Laughing my whole ass off.

This ties the whole scene together. It makes the audience go OHHH right he's just been pretending this whole time (if they have any sense). It's genius writing. Without Argyle saying this, we might never really have full confirmation on whether he is really out of character or whether this is just how he has always been. NO, he is lying to himself. He is pretending.

They did not have to make Argyle say this. Ever heard of double meanings folks?

And Mike's reaction?

This reaction has always kind of been interesting to me. How would you assume how Mike would react to someone insulting him? Usually he would scowl or look annoyed but here he doesn't, he almost looks worried. Like oh no he's just been found out lmao

After this there's an awkward moment spurred on by Argyle Mike's like 'yeah this is so awkward'.

Now, since I'm literally Mike and he is me, I know what he's doing here by saying this.

I've done it before, it's where you kind of say that it's really awkward in order to make it seem like you're not the one making it awkward, like you're blaming other people (which he always does).

But Michael, it's kind of your fault?? Like, you didn't have to do the bro tap, you also didn't have to act that way around Argyle.

BRO WE ARE HALFWAY THROUGH NOW LMAOOOO THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST

Now onto the next part, where El is talking about Rink-o-mania and she starts lying again. I have watched this scene over and over and literally Mike barely looks at her once, while he glances at Will multiple times. I feel like audience members don't catch this explicitly, but subconsciously, they can sense that there is tension between the two because of the way that Will is placed during this scene…

I counted them up in this video and Mike glances at Will..

6 Times

Just want to say before we talk about each glance, this scene is extremely telling. It tells you exactly, through subtext, what the atmosphere between Will, Mike and El is going to be like throughout the season/ the beginning of the season. It's textbook foreshadowing.

Will is standing off to the side while Mike has his arm like really tightly around El. They could have had this scene be a cute scene between Milkvan because of how close they are, but instead this scene is about Will's sadness, about how he was ignored by Mike. He's still holding the painting, so the audience are still aware of its existence and what it could imply for Mike and El's relationship.

This scene is also about El lying! Not about how 'cute' Mike and El are.

Okay so here is me talking about every single glance <3

"Wha- Really?" -- Could Mike make it clearer if he tried? I think this is the most obvious one that the audience could easily catch, if they are watching without distraction. Which is important, because it is the first one. He stutters over his words when he realises that Will is looking back at him. Sound familiar? In a much more obvious scene, he does this with the triple take in the desert... It's also kind of clear that they looked at each other because Mike and Will look down/ away straight after Mike goes 'wha-'

"Trust me" "No I trust you" -- So this one's a little more subtle and maybe to the audience it could seem like Mike's looking at El, but then the camera turns to focus directly on Will and him looking at Mike with disappointment. I don't think he's upset about Mike completely ignoring him, but he's upset about this weird little awkward dance they're doing. The reaction from Will is because of the uncertainty. The fact they focus on Will with a single shot at all instantly makes this scene about his emotions primarily. This becomes a pattern.

"Rink-o-mania..." -- This one's also super subtle. I'm not even sure why Mike looked at Will here, but it is clear that he's not looking at El, if you want to slow it down then you ig. Maybe he sensed that Will was staring at him just a few seconds prior.

"Are your friends gonna meet us there?" -- Even though he is speaking to El, he looks at Will. This kind of shows that even when he is supposedly thinking about El and what they are going to do together, subconsciously, his mind is still on Will. This can then be seen in the Rink-o-mania argument when it is revealed that he has been focusing on Will's reactions all day when the audience believes originally that he was ignoring him: "You were! You were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking, you basically sabotaged the whole day!" Mike, Mike, Mike. Your girlfriend being bullied didn't ruin the day, Will being pissy to you did? ANYWAYS THIS ISNT ABOUT RINKOMANIA JHDGASJHDG

"Friends what friends?" -- So this fifth one is kind of ambiguous because he has his visor on, hiding his expression and where his eyes are looking. But you can see with the way his head turned, that he was looking at Will because of the way he said "Friends what friends?" This is probably just Mike being confused on what's going on, then. BUT it is another thing that makes this whole scene not about 'uwu mike and el awww' but about Will's feelings or the fact that El's lying and the unstableness of their relationship.

"Angela?" -- This one is very notable. Firstly, here is what we know: Mike knows about the fact that Will has probably done the painting for a 'girl he likes'. Mike thinks that this 'girl' isn't him because Will says 'it's nothing'. Mike maybe thinks that El's friends are also Will's friends. AND Mike does not want to ask Will about the girl he likes because he doesn't want to know about Will liking someone else/ he does not want to confront his own feelings. So, The way that Mike looks at Will with that kind of dead expression, (and he actually does a little double take) is super duper telling. You don't know what he's thinking but if you read into it, he could be thinking that Will was feeling hopeful that Angela would come and is kind of nervous for it.

Finally, El says "I want this day to be about me and you!" which is meant to be ironic. The showrunners would not have put this little line in if it wasn't supposed to be funny tbh..... like this whole scene was about how El was lying and she's suddenly saying it's just about them.

Because of what she says as well, Will rolls his eyes and crushes his painting a bit. (HEARTBREAKING)... The fact that he rolls his eyes is probably just him being annoyed about what she said, because it further makes him feel like the third wheel. The scene ends with his eye roll, emphasising how this whole scene was about how Will is feeling, not the "Main Couple Of The Show tm??" But alsoooo, he crushes the painting :(((( meaning he was also feeling heartbroken a little by the fact that they are acting very coupley and Mike doesn't seem to care about him oops, since the painting is for him.

OKAY IM DONE LMAOOOO

In conclusion, this scene is about byler in the first half, and the flaws of Milkvan and Will's feelings in the second half. This scene is meant to foreshadow the arc between Will, El and Mike which transpires in the rest of the season. The bro tap is the gayest thing I've ever seen, and did not have to be included in this scene. It could have been Will that was awkward. It shows that Mike has changed. He has changed ever since Will moved away and he had that realisation. In season 3, Mike seems confused, unaware of his feelings. But now, in this scene, in only 2 minutes, we know for sure that Mike is in denial. He knows.

Anyways

Byler Endgame.

#byler #byler endgame #byler nation #mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler is gay #byler evidence #byler proof #byler is canon king??????? (sorry)

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asidian · 6 months ago

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And finally, one last color to examine in Dead Boy Detectives:

WHITE

White is vulnerability.

White is the color that Edwin wears in hell, and it's the color of the lighting in Despair's realm.

Edwin wears white while he's being tortured by Esther Finch.

Niko wears white on the day that she dies. As a very neat aside, a white kimono is also the traditional burial wear for a corpse in Japan, so in addition to being marked vulnerable by the in-universe symbolism, she is visually marked for death from the start of that episode.

White features prominently in Crystal's outfit on the day when she loses her powers. She's rendered helpless without her psychic abilities, but she's also left vulnerable by her fear that the boys don't actually want her around unless she can offer them something.

White also creeps in among all the black in Jenny's outfits here and there throughout the show, notably appearing only for the scenes where she opens up and exposes her feelings more than is typical for her.

Charles is stripped down to his white undershirt just after he dies.

When Esther kidnaps the boys in the final episode, they appear as glowing white orbs when they are initially taken into captivity.

Comparably few scenes in the show are lit in white. Among them, notably, are the scene where the Cat King compels Edwin to tell the truth, the scene by the seashore where Niko and Edwin talk about his feelings, and the scene with Edwin and Niko on the rooftop, discussing Niko's father and Edwin's confession. They're all incredibly intimate, vulnerable scenes.

And finally, last but certainly not least, in the very first episode both Edwin and Charles appear largely in white while they are dressed down in their office. They are metaphorically and physically exposed around one another; they've laid themselves bare by choice, as a matter of trust, and they're comfortable with it.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland #payneland #crystal palace #jenny green #esther finch #meta commentary #netflix

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come-on-darling-honey · 2 years ago

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colourblind [paul lahote x reader]

AN:// this pushes all of the wolves and new moon plot to summer.

summary: based on this post of how the shift Paul and the others experience would give them physical attributes akin to a wolf, which is being colourblind. Which Paul finds himself in, until of course, he sees you for the first time in months on the first day of summer.

warnings- mature language and themes. one suggestive scene. 18+ word count 10k.

“La Push baby! Its LaPush!”

“Do you have to say that every time we go to LaPush?” I asked, staring at the back of Mike and Eric’s heads in the van. They were singing and screaming into the warm air as we drove down to First Beach.

“He said that to me when I first came to LaPush,” Bella added, meekly. I laughed, lightly pushing against her. She was wearing a white blouse and tan shorts, opposing my dark shorts and tight blue shirt, Angela had gotten me it when she went to the Grand Canyon with her family. It read “visit the Grand Canyon today!” on the back, so ugly I loved it.

“He’s been saying it since we were five and our parents would carpool us in the summer.” I whispered to Bella; we were both laughing at the terrifying attempt from Mike to sing ‘Wanna Be’ by Spice Girls. Butchering the lines didn’t matter to Mike, it was summer. First day of it. Bella was finally out of the pit she had found herself in.

I’d spent almost every Friday and Saturday night of the past seven months sleeping over at the Swan house, waiting for Bella to come through. At first it was scary, the screaming and the vacancy of her mind, but she’s better now. At least I hope she is, Charlie thinks so, but I’m worried she’s becoming dependent on our friend Jacob. Coming to First Beach did mean a far chance we could run into Jacob, but it also means she’s surrounded by other people, and as annoying as Mikes singing is, I can tell she’s enjoying it.

“Are you okay?” I heard Bella say, we’d parked, and the boys were getting their surfing gear on. I hadn’t even noticed; Bella was wide eyed like a little deer and grasping onto my shoulder. “Is it to do with Paul?”

“No,” I laughed uncomfortably shaking her off as I got out of the seat into the back, taking of my clothes to reveal my favourite bikini underneath. “Not even thinking about him.” Which was true, to an extent. I had been thinking about Paul Lahote all morning and all last night and the day before, and every day since three weeks ago but that wasn’t in this moment. So technically… not a lie!

She watched me in clear disbelief but didn’t push it. She knew some rumours about Paul from Jacob, not kind ones but as the days go on, I’m starting to believe them myself. Hall monitors on steroids. “What book are you bringing?” Bella asked, changing the subject.

“The Metamorphosis by Kafka, are you rereading Austen again?” I said, searching through my bag for suncream. The only way id gotten Bella to agree to coming today was to promise I’d stay by her side all day and we can just read on the beach. Which worked out well for me, I always hated getting changed after leaving the ocean, everything stuck to you; clothes, sand, everything. She nodded and sheepishly pulled Persuasion out of her bag. Bella grabbed the towels we were going to lay on as I surveyed the beach for the best spot, there were a lot more people than usual but it’s what I expected. The remote spot in the south corner seemed perfect. Setting down camp, I heard laughter and colliding footsteps coming towards us, Mike, Eric and now Tyler ran to our spot, and all jumped over one another to lay on the sand. Not a single cloud in the sky, not that the boys noticed, too busy apologising to Bella for covering her towel with sand. Laughing it off quietly she shook the towel and threw all the sand on the boys. She stopped laughing as she looked over my shoulder. Standing up I saw, Sam Uley talking with Jared, Paul and Embry? But Embry was huge and at least half a foot taller than when I last saw him. They began kicking a ball around until Paul suddenly turned in my direction. Swivelling quickly, I stared into the sea. Sitting down on my towel that I was apparently sharing with Jess, I looked over at Bella. Giving me a comforting smile, she nodded towards our books that sat in the bag at the foot of her towel.

A few hours had passed when Jacob and Quil had made their way over to us, Jess, Angela, and the boys had all decided to go on an impromptu adventure leaving Bella and I in peace, that is until Quil collapsed on my towel and Jacob calmly sat next to Bella.

“See how normal Jake is?” I asked kicking Quil with my foot, “Be more like Jake.” They all laughed as the fiend on my towel rolled over.

“Figured you needed protecting.” He said, puffing his chest put lightly with a boyish smile.

“From what?” Bella laughed.

“Lahote’s been staring at you for a while,” Jacob said staring at me. Turning around I saw Paul from a distance, I could barely make out his face but saw that he definitely wasn’t happy.

“Well thank you gentlemen, but we can handle ourselves.” I said, laughing when Quil got hit with a rouge baseball.

We spoke for a while, making jokes at each other’s expense and avoiding the subject of Embry completely. Bella and I had come to an unspoken agreement that if they wanted to talk about it, they would. I looked around the beach and saw a stall on the pavement beyond the pavilion, an old lady selling handmade jewellery. I told Bella, Jake, and Quil that I was going to see what she was selling and grabbed my purse from my bag. Making my way over across the hot sand I regretted not grabbing a shirt from Quil or Jake or even making a detour to the van, so many people were looking at me, even if they were wearing the same thing, I felt so exposed.

“Hello dear, having a good day?” The lady asked as I finally reached her stand. We spoke about the weather and then about her creations, one with a beautiful orange crystal in the middle had caught my eye. “Citrine, they bring positivity and happiness” she winked once she caught where I was looking. I grabbed my purse but before I could hand over the $5 someone else passed it to her. Following the tan hand, I saw Paul; he was looking at the lady and explained he’d buy it for me. She smiled and accepted the money, handing him the necklace over. Paul looked at the necklace in his hand and squinted, looking oddly heartbroken.

“I can buy it myself.” I said as he walked a few steps out of earshot of the old lady. He still hadn’t actually looked me in the eye yet. It was infuriating. “You know its super fucking rude of you to ignore me for weeks, replace me with new friends, act like I don’t exist and then pretend like nothings happened.” He tensed at this; I kept going. “And now you won’t even look me in the eye!” I laughed, his large shoulders straightened, God when did he get so big.

As he turned around something shifted, I’m not sure what but it was definitely something. He stared at me wide eyed, speechless and I saw tension fall from him. But I had no patience for him.

“Are you going to give me the necklace or should I just go and buy one for myself.” This seemed to snap him out of it, he passed me the necklace and kept looking at me. Not staring anymore, more of a gaze. Not voyeuristic as the other gazes from men on the beach but an intimate one, one I wanted to avoid. His eyes are a stunning brown, I think to my painting at home, I’d made him sit for hours, waiting for the result when I’d spent twenty minutes alone painting half an eye, he waited.

Tearing myself away from him I look down at the necklace, it was beautiful. I had to not owe him this. I took the $5 out of my purse and pressed it to his chest. He finally caught on and gently pushed my hand away.

“Take it.” I demanded.

“It’s a gift.” He whispered, the way he used to.

“Please take it.” I begged lightly; I couldn’t owe him for this.

“What is going on?” A harsh voice interrupted us. Quil had stood in front of my right shoulder, not hiding me completely but being a clear attempt to shield me. He didn’t know any of the details of what happened between Paul and I, but honestly, I didn’t either. He just knew how broken I was, crying to him when Bella, Jake, and Embry weren’t around. Knowing I couldn’t handle their silent looks.

“None of your fucking business, Ateara.” Paul snapped, his body tightening. Quil pushed him, suddenly Jared was holding Paul back and Sam had appeared in front of us. He had whispered something to Paul that I couldn’t catch but it looked more like a demand. One I wasn’t entirely sure was in Quil and I’s favour or not.

Jacob had arrived by this point, staring at Embry in disbelief who had told Quil to ‘back off’, Embry was normally so sweet and quiet. The way he was acting as he was influenced by the others was a clear sign to the mentality that I didn’t want anything to do with. Paul had caught my eye from over Sam’s shoulder, a pleading sense to him. I looked away, staring at Quil’s back. I couldn’t do this, get caught up in whatever teenage boy bullshit was going on. I was 18, Paul 19, Quil 17. I had no fucking interest. Ignoring the yells of my name I walked back to Bella who had watched the whole affair in bewilderment. I walked back to Bella in more confidence then when I had left, I couldn’t explain it, but I knew the people looking know, weren’t looking at me and if they were it, was a good thing. Sitting on the towel I thanked Bella for staying with the stuff and picked up my book. Not before placing the Citrine necklace in my bag. She watched me as I lied back down but I couldn’t care, knowing I’d have to tell her every detail later anyway. Jess practically ran to us, monopolising my towel once again and demanding to know what she had seen from across the beach.

“I mean not only was he completely eye-fucking you but who were all his friends?!” She practically screamed, I hit her shoulder lightly with my book for ‘eye-fucking’ as Bella blushed, but explained who the boys were.

“Oh, they’re coming over!” Jess said, elated with the drama unfolding right in front of her. My legs slid over Jess so she wouldn’t leave and who ever was coming wouldn’t stay, which thankfully she understood as she grabbed my legs lightly with a comforting rub.

“Can you believe the nerve of Embry?” I heard Jake yell as he was approaching us, Bella’s cheeks were as pink as Jess’ bikini. Jess’ jaw dropped as she ate up Quil and Jake’s physique, I watched her over my book, smirking as she stared at the long haired boys.

Quil called my name, and I looked up, with my head laid down I saw him as a giant, which made me laugh.

“What the fuck was he saying to you.” Quil demanded, staring at me.

“It’s over, don’t worry about it.” I said calmly.

“Don’t worry? He’s a fucked-up dude! Literally almost exploded on me, again!” he gave Jess context, that Paul had almost ‘attacked’ Quil in a convenience store a few weeks ago. She looked down at me in surprise. I still read my book.

“As hot as he is,” Jess said with Quil and Jake protesting as she ignored them, “no boy is worth it if he has anger like that.” She said with the older sister tone she normally used on her younger siblings. Quil and Jake agreed with her, but Bella stayed silent, I looked at her from the corner of my eye and saw her staring at the pavilion.

“Honestly, if you go back to him, I can’t be your fucking friend.” I caught Quil saying. I stood up so quick I dropped my book on the towel, loosing the page. Where did this come from? Bella, Jake and even Jess went quiet. Quil had snapped, he never snapped at me.

“First of all, that would be my decision, second, I wasn’t ‘with’ him in the first place and thirdly you don’t get to be so fucking rude to me.” I snapped, pointing a finger at his chest.

“He’s a bad fucking person and you know it.” His eyes stared into mine, harsh and true.

“You don’t know him how I know him.” I defended Paul, for some unknown reason. I didn’t even fully believe myself I was just so hurt with how Quil was acting everything was blurring out of anger.

“After everything he did, you’re defending him!” Quil yelled, desperation in his eyes, he was looking at me as if I was crazy, which I was beginning to feel.

“You don’t fucking care about me.” I yelled back. Storming away, grabbing only my bag and purse, leaving my book and towel. All but Quil yelled after me.

Opening the van, Mike was sat in the back struggling to get the sand of his feet. “Pass me my clothes.” I said, I couldn’t hear myself due to the anger raising and blurring everything, but I could tell I was being rude, Mike’s smile dropped into a worried expression as he gave me my clothes. I dressed in silence as he asked me if someone did something, like the protective older brother he always acted like. I shook my head, unable to fathom words that weren’t a string of swears. Did Quil really think that lowly of me? Did he think he could just give me an ultimatum like that, and I’d accept it? Fuck this and fuck him.

I told Mike I was going home and as he asked if I wanted a lift, I slammed the door of the van shut too hard and made my way to the back streets of first beach. I knew if I got to the centre of LaPush that I could find the bus stops I used to use when I’d hang out with Paul. Lead hit me over the head when I thought about him. I suddenly had an urge to sit by his side unlike the recent weeks where id sworn him off and cried and cried.

A truck pulled up beside me, old and worn I recognised it as Sam Uley’s. I looked over to see him sat in the driver’s seat looking at me.

“I’ll give you a ride.” He said, in a way I felt oddly comforted by as I got in. Normally, I would’ve told him to fuck off, but I felt way too emotional to walk the twenty minute walk to the centre of town. We sat in silence for ten minuets after I’d told him my address. I wanted to ask him about Paul, even about Emily and Leah but it didn’t feel right. This would be the fifth time I’d been near him let alone speak to him, so it just felt wrong. But he must’ve been thinking the same thing.

“It’s not Paul’s fault.”

“What?” I asked, looking at him. He was staring intensely into the road, it was weird, it felt like Sam was effortlessly the comforting older brother figure Mike had tried to be. Yet he seemed guilty like he’d made a mistake, not know but before.

“I told him to stay away from you, it was my fault. He had no choice.” I decided to listen, to make sense of what he was saying. “There’s somethings you need to know, do you remember Emily?” I nodded, unable to speak in fear he’d stop speaking. “I’ll write her address down for you, visit any time and she’ll help you.” How cryptic could one person be.

“Why did Paul listen to you?” I questioned, staring at him. His dark brown hair was swooped back so he could see the road.

“He had no choice, you’ll understand.”

“I don’t understand anything.” He laughed.

“You will.” He pulled over and stopped driving, we’d reached my house. He pulled a notebook from the glove compartment. “Here’s her address and my number if you need a ride.”

“I can get Bella to drive me.”

“No, Bella can’t know about this, it doesn’t involve her. I’m sorry but you must trust me.”

“I tell Bella everything.” I said, taking the sheet of paper from him.

“But does she tell you everything?” he asked, his tone wasn’t accusatory like Quil’s had been, no, Sam asked me like he was genuinely worried about me. He was right, I knew Bella wasn’t telling me something. I couldn’t ask, hoping she’d finally tell me.

“I guess this means don’t tell Jake or… Quil.” He nodded, I got out of the truck, thanking him for the ride.

“You hike a lot, right?” It was my turn to nod. “Take a break for a while, with all those attacks it really isn’t safe.” I agreed, sadly, and went inside, after thanking him again for the ride. “Ever need a lift, just let me know, I’ll sort one out for you.”

I was glad it was summer break. All my free time had been spent on art: painting, sketching, and avoiding literally everything else. I’d been missing all of Bella’s calls and thankfully when she came over to my house I was working. Sam had been giving me lifts to work since I normally did a small hike there. I worked on the other side of Forks at a plant shop and nowhere near Bella. Whatever she was hiding from me had been eating away at me for a while. Summer break had also given me an escape from running into Jess, I loved her, but I had literally no answers for her. And the theories I had were so bat-shit crazy I had feeling no one would believe them.

Quil had called seventeen times. I couldn’t call him back, still angry at the way he spoke to me. Maybe he was right about Paul, but a small voice in the back of my head I’d nicknamed ‘stupid consciousness’ told me I should give Paul a fair chance and listen to Sam. Maybe it was some crazy mastermind ploy to pull down my defences, but id started to befriend Sam, and Emily as she’d joined him a few times to take me to work. I couldn’t figure out why they’d decided to help me out suddenly, but I decided to just go with it, I felt safer, loved and they never brought up Paul.

8:30am on a Tuesday morning I sat in the garden waiting for Sam. My headphones blasting Noah Kahan’s new album. It was chiller then it would be for this time of year, so a loose fleece hung around my body. We had another month of beautiful sun until the constant hood of clouds and rain returned to Forks. I had started worrying this morning that Sam driving me to and from work was an inconvenience, I hadn’t been insecure about this before, but it was daunting on me now. What if I was just pushing him out of his way and annoying him? Annoying Emily? I felt suddenly sick. But the truck in front of me pulled me out of the haze. Sam’s brotherly grin made me smile, my older brother was away at college, and I missed him. He opened my door form his side and I got in, the fear of inconvenience looming over me. Taking off my headphones I heard the soft folk music playing form the old truck. It was a twenty-minute drive to my work; we made nice conversation till Sam said something that struck me.

“Come to Ems tonight, I’ll finally explain it to you.” Weeks had passed since Sam initially asked me, it was clear I didn’t want to ask, so he’d decided to tell me. I nodded, silently looking out the window. Five minutes till we got there.

“Will he be there?”

“Yes.” He was short, sweet, and blunt. I knew I couldn’t hide from this, so I decided to ask what had been looming over me all morning.

“Why do you drive me? You work on the res; this is completely out of your way.” I still held my gaze out of the window. But I heard him grin as he told me.

“Well, I like your company, I always wanted a baby sister,” I scoffed at ‘baby’ which he caught and laughed, “plus it really is not safe if you walk to work, you walk through the bush, it isn’t safe.” His tone was serious at the end. I knew he was telling the truth. When we arrived, he looked over at me, smiling he passed me a brown bag. Holding back a laugh he told me “Em’s worried you aren’t eating enough”.

“She does know I’m an adult right?” I laughed, taking the bag.

“Well do you have any lunch today?” the silence from me made him laugh as I clearly did not, infact, have lunch. I threw a piece of card from the car door at him as I mumbled in protest.

“Pick me up at four?” I asked, putting the brown bag in my own. He nodded, as he drove away, I realised how long today was going to be.

I was right. So annoyingly, right. The day dragged, it felt that five hours had passed when in fact it was only two and I couldn’t even go for my lunch yet. If one more old lady asked me to point her in the direction of the roses, I was going to lose my mind. Not only was it weird that roses were extremely popular among old ladies but that they couldn’t see that the roses were at the front of the store, they were the first things you saw as you walked in.

At 1:25pm I heard a familiar gruff voice echo in the small shop. Charlie Swan. I was praying he was talking to a friend, or that there had been a horrible crime and the shop was under investigation. But as I heard a small, feminine voice I knew I wouldn’t have such luck. Of course, when I was working Chief Swan would decide to finally re-do his front garden. My lunch break was in five minutes if I could just hide here then my 60-year-old co-worker Henry would serve them. Henry was a true one, he’d help me in my hour of need. I hid behind the seeds, staring at Iris in its many forms as I heard Bella ask Henry if I was working too, I wasn’t sure if Henry and I had some super cool intuition or if he had genuinely forgotten I was working as he told her I wasn’t today. As I snuck away for my lunch break, I internally praised Henry for being the best co-worker that has ever lived.

Checking my phone, I noticed a missed call from Sam and a text.

“Can’t pick you up, Em is going to, she’ll be using her truck- its blue same make as Bella’s. Will be there when you arrive. Sorry.”

As weird as that was, I was just thankful I had a ride, I didn’t trust Henry behind the wheel.

The afternoon had passed quicker than the morning, the lunch Emily had made me was embarrassingly good and oddly comforting. As I finished my shift I gave Henry a fist bump, he laughed the way old people do, as a reflex showing that they’ve been laughing all their life. Emily’s blue truck pulled up; it had a better paint job then Sam’s but I had a feeling Sam worked on her truck more than his own.

“How was your day?” Em gleamed as I got into the car.

“Dull but the lunch was amazing, thank you.” I laughed as she grinned like a fool.

“I knew you’d like it! Paul told me you were vegetarian, and I’ve been dying to pull out those veggie cookbooks! The boys always avoid vegetables, it’s ridiculous!” she laughed as I wound the window down, warm air sifting through. My fleece cocooned in my bag form this morning, abandoned in the heat. I smiled, feeling warm at the casual mentioning of Paul. I’d assumed Sam’s business was something to do with work and that it wasn’t my business but at Em’s odd avoidance of it, something felt different.

I’d told her about Henry and Bella, talking more about Henry then Bella, Em laughed so hard she coughed. Pulling up to her house, I was shocked. It was beautiful. When we got out, I stared at the cabin, two stories and covered in flowers and plants. Wooden furniture, big windows, and open doors. It was beautiful. Em pulled me in, it was even more perfect inside. Bright colours and paintings everywhere. Sitting at a round, wooden table Em beckoned me to join her.

“Your home is… wow just amazing,” I was still looking at everything, the open kitchen and dining room was so homely and comforting. She smiled and grabbed my hand.

Emily was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen. The scar on her face to her arm didn’t change that. She was even more beautiful; she wore it proudly. When she smiled part of the scar creased at her eye. Her long black hair hung over her shoulders, bangs perfectly trimmed. My hair was almost as long as hers, but she had a few inches on me.

“How are you feeling?” her caring tone standing through.

“Nervous, I have no idea what is about to happen.”

She nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll be here the whole time, if you don’t want to be here at any moment just say and we’ll go, no questions asked.” She must’ve noticed the apprehension in my face. “Nothings going to hurt you, Sam and Paul have made sure of that.” I trusted her, more than I trusted the people I grew up with. I knew for certain there was something going on, that involved Paul and Sam, probably Jared and Embry too. Whatever it was I hoped it didn’t involve Quil and Jake too.

Voices came through the door behind us that led out to Emily’s extensive garden. Sam and Paul came in. Both shirtless and only wearing shorts. Which was weird but I guess they felt the heat more than Emily and I, Emily was wearing a stunning white sundress and I white pants and black shirt, my apron from work stuffed in my bag along side the fleece.

Paul looked at me, he looked horrible, dark bags under his eyes, and it looked as if he had to hold himself back from me. Not in a threatening way, not the relief in his eyes told me this was good, that I was safe. Sam rubbed my shoulder as he passed me to get to Emily. As they hugged and kissed, I saw Paul still watching me, turning back to him I saw the weight in his eyes.

“Are you joining us?” I asked him, an olive branch being thrown in his direction.

He took a moment to process what I asked then silently nodded and sat a chair away from me, which did hurt. But I ignored it and looked to Sam and Emily who had both sat back down. Emily’s hand was once again in mine, Paul looked with an odd… jealousy? Till his eyes trailed up my arm to my neck, where the necklace laid. I’d worn it every day since the beach that I didn’t even think about it anymore.

“So,” Sam started, “there are some things we have to tell you, but I think it’ll be easier if we show you then explain.” Emily’s head snapped to him as Pauls hung in shame. He smiled at her reassuringly and guided us all to the garden where Jared and Embry were talking. They both greeted me with a relaxed voice I was deeply confused as to what was going to happen.

Sam and Paul stood slightly in front of me, Emily’s grip tightened as she held onto my arm. Without warning Jared had… disappeared? And there was a wolf in his place. I looked in frozen shock to Embry who was grinning ear to ear and then his body contorted itself into another oversized wolf. Both started chasing each other and I couldn’t find it in myself to be scared. Instead, I found it hilarious, two boys had just turned into great big wolves, and I was worried about my friend not liking me anymore! All my problems felt so small as I watched them both. Emily pinched me, whipping my head to her in pain I asked her what’s wrong.

“What is wrong? What is wrong! They just shifted into wolves and you’re acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world!” She yelled, trying to grasp anything from me.

“Let’s go inside.” Sam said, leaving Embry and Jared to playfight in the garden. Emily dragged me in, I couldn’t stop watching them. Enamoured by how small it made my problems feel. Everything had been feeling so all-consuming as I experienced every little emotion, it was awesome to feel so insignificant.

“How familiar are you with the tribe’s history?” Sam asked, trying to read me as we sat back in Emily’s kitchen. I finally turned away from the wolves in the garden to face him.

It all hit me, everything Paul had told me growing up and Quil had been telling me before the beach. About the vampires, about the three bloodlines that became protectors. Quil was in that bloodline. So was Jake. Fuck.

“I know a fair bit.” I said. The next ten minutes were spent by Sam monologuing everything they knew so far but I could tell he was leaving something out. Something I knew that I knew. Paul or Quil must have mentioned it. After he had finished, I sat processing, knowing there was something else. The leaches. Was it just the one Sam had mentioned. Oh god. I dropped the glass of water I was holding, Paul caught it.

“The Cullen’s.” I breathed, looking at Sam and Paul in horror.

“You caught that quicker than I thought you would,” Sam laughed, “the treaty doesn’t allow us to tell people what they are.”

“I sat next to them in classes… Bella dated one!” silence. “She knew?” I was bewildered. She knew that Edward Cullen was an ancient old man murderer and dated him? What is wrong with her. I can’t judge her completely, as gross and weirdly necrophiliac as that is, I didn’t know her story. I’m glad Sam warned me that she wasn’t telling me everything.

“Does she know about you guys?” Sam shook his head.

“Only the people in this room, Jared and Embry and the tribe’s elders know. Its safer that way.” I nodded. Embry was 17. He must’ve been so scared.

Suddenly it hit me how cruel I’ve been to Paul; Sam had explained the gag order he’d put on Paul. Thinking about him, I knew there was something else, but I couldn’t help but just feel horrible for how I acted. The way I spoke about him to Quil, not meaning a single word but loving how good it made me feel. Without looking at him I let go of Emily’s hand and held his. He squeezed in and I could practically feel the smile radiating of him. I knew I shouldn’t feel too bad for how I acted; I didn’t know. But I wish I did. Sam explained lightly how his transformation was, how painful and terrified he was. I didn’t want to imagine a similar story leaving Paul’s mouth.

“I’m thankful you told me but why exactly are you telling me?” I asked, Paul stiffened, my thumb absent and idly ran circles around the back of hand as I stared at Sam. He shifted uneasily under my gaze. Which felt wrong, Sam was never uncomfortable. What was he avoiding? What am I forgetting?

A ring ran through the silent kitchen, and I dropped Paul’s hand to look at my phone. Jakes name read across the screen, which was weird. Jake never called me. He texted me when he was picking me up to come hang out and that was it. It’d been radio silence on both ends since I had that argument with Quil.

“Erm, I’m gonna get this.” I went outside to Emily’s front porch rather than the open garden.

“Jake?” I asked to the empty phone line.

“Hello?” He panted; his breaths disjointed.

“Jake what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, something-” he was cut of by a pained groan. “Somethings wrong.” He sounded like a child, one who couldn’t understand the pain of a broken arm or where a relative had gone and why they wouldn’t come back.

“Jake? Is Quil there?”

“No, I just got back from the movies with Bella.” He screamed again. Then began pleading with me. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly two wolves ran past me into the Woodline, I turned back to see Sam telling Paul and Emily something as he shifted into the clearly biggest wolf.

“Listen to me okay. Deep breaths Jake, help is coming. You just gotta keep calm. Please, okay?” I asked, figuring out what was going on. Jake was shifting. I was panicking and felt like crying at his screams of pain.

“How are you feeling?” a pained yell was all I got in reply, Emily came to the porch behind me and put a hand to my back, ‘keep going’ she mouthed.

“Focus on- Bella! Think of her okay. Bella she’s going to be an anchor for you. Think about her okay. What shirt was she wearing today?” I asked keeping my voice as calm and steady as I could.

“She was wearing-” another scream through gritted teeth.

“Focus.”

“a green jacket, and a white blouse.” I heard crashing through the call, Sam’s voice, more screaming. I hung up the phone. This was too much. Too soon. Emily’s hand ran up and down my back, I was breathing heavily. I only found out about this an hour ago, how was this happening to Jake? Bella had once called him “earthbound sun” and now all I was hearing was his screams of pain playing on repeat.

“Everything will be okay.” She whispered, taking me upstairs into a bedroom. The walls were wooden, and the large bed was plush, and it smelt of lavender when I sat on it. Emily leant in front of me, both my hands in hers as we breathed together, she must’ve gone threw this a few times now. I couldn’t even pinpoint why I was so worried. The idea of Jake or any of them making a mistake and Paul getting hurt was eating me up. As my eyes fell into Emily’s and my breathing matched hers, I remembered the last bit of the story Paul told me years ago.

We were 15, sat cross legged on his lawn. I was making daisy chains as he told the legends to me. He blushed as he mentioned imprinting. The two souls who were destined to meet brought together by fate. How the shifter devotes themselves to their imprint even at the cost of themselves. At the time we both couldn’t comprehend the power of it, we thought it was ludicrous. And it was, a complete lack of agency. But in a selfish way, it was fantastical. My breathing was normal, and Emily sat next to me.

“Did Paul… did he imprint on me?” I asked quietly, scared if I said it any louder id be ridiculed. Emily didn’t say anything, she just squeezed my hands gently.

“Why don’t you stay here tonight? I have some spare pyjamas; I can wash your uniform for tomorrow.” She asked, eyes searching my own. Nodding I waited as she left the room. She told me to start getting changed as she left, stripping down to my underwear I became oddly aware of how insane this was, but I trusted Emily. And I knew now, I was safe. She came in holding a brown tank top and white shorts, they were so soft as I put them on. I was still dazed as the panic left my system; every movement was a cloud in my mind.

“Would you like to join me?” she asked, as I lifted my head up in confusion she continued “I’m going to watch a film, we can watch it together, if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.” I replied, Emily put my clothes in the wash with some of her own and we got comfy on the sofa, I’d learnt the room with the lavender smelling bed was a guest room, and I was welcome to stay over whenever. Emily’s room was just down the hall. Her Gran had left her this house and she spent two years renovating it. She always made sure anyone was welcome here. I texted my parents to let them know I wouldn’t be home tonight, they told me to stay safe and call them if something is wrong. I was an adult, and I knew they liked knowing I was okay.

“Paul stays over most nights,” she said, braiding my hair, “but he sleeps on the couch. I can’t get him to take a room.” I was laying half on her chest half on her the sofa. I felt like a child. It was the most comforting experience of my life. We watched 2005 Pride and Prejudice. Laughing and swooning the whole time. We cried at the love in the film, the hand moments making us kick our feet, giggling. It was relaxing, to be with a friend. One that wasn’t hiding anything. I guess I would be the friend that was hiding something now to all my friends, to Jess, Bella, and Angela. But I couldn’t dwell on that. I told Emily about how I was feeling with Bella, and she told me about Leah, my stomach dropped when she told me Sam gave her that scar.

“I couldn’t be angry at him, what happened to him, to all the boys, it takes away their agency in emotional moments. I forgive him.” She told me, watching the film. Like this was second nature. Merely an afterthought. I knew I was safe here but was that just hysterics? Was I in danger and too naive to notice? No. Sam and Paul care for me. But Sam loves Emily? No. I reassure myself as I fall into a drowsy slumber as Emily ran her fingers through my hair. Sam can control it, so can Paul and Jared and Embry and Jake will be able to.

Warm arms lifted me, I felt the soft plush of the bed beneath me. I wanted to grab onto to the body holding me, my eyes wouldn’t open but I tried. A light chuckle sifted through the air as I finally let go.

A pink sunrise fell over me. I was drenched in the colours. Walking through the house I saw Paul, asleep on the sofa. The pink and purple began to fall onto him, he shifted awake as I made my way to the kitchen.

“Did I wake you?” I froze, looking at him through sleep festered eyes. He shook his head, smiling. We made coffee and cereal in silence, I the coffee and Paul the cereal. As we ate, I asked about Jake.

“He’s better now, the first shift is always the worst. What you did on the phone really helped.”

“All I did was keep him talking till you guys got there,” I said, finishing my cereal.

“He mentioned you called Bella an anchor, that helps more than you know.” He was looking at me intently. Suddenly I remembered my conversation with Emily last night.

“Paul…” Emily and Sam walked in, laughing with each other. I didn’t want to ask Paul with others around. He seemed brighter though, maybe he’d finally had a full night of sleep. Sleep, id fallen asleep with Emily on the couch and woken up in bed. Looking back at Paul, he was already watching me, waiting. “Did you take me to bed last night? You could’ve just woken me.” I laughed, trying to play off my feelings.

Sam laughed, sitting down with a coffee, “You were both sound asleep when we got back, no use waking you.” Emily looked at me, asking if id said anything, lightly shaking my head I pulled myself away from the conversation as they updated Emily on Jacob. From the window I saw the orange sun dance across the green summer leaves, sway through the crisp morning grass. The sun had risen by now, but the early morning was still prevalent in its colourful glory.

Sam called my name, pulling me out of my thoughts. “When do you start work?”

“9am,” I lied. Well, it wasn’t an actual lie, but I had decided I wasn’t going to go to work today, Henry had been telling me I need to take advantage of the paid sick days we get, so today I will. I need to process what the hell just happened. Alone. As much as I want to be here, I don’t know how much more I can handle. Sam had told us he hadn’t expected Jake to shift so soon and Quil’s grandfather has noticed he has a fever. It’s happening too fast and is still don’t really know why I am involved. Expect I do, which makes it so much worse. I would get dropped of at work, and then catch a bus to First Beach, which yes was counter intuitive, but it felt wrong to tell the people who immediately accepted me I didn’t want to be around them right now. I’d tell them id get a ride home from Henry and just walk back home. No, I shouldn’t walk. I promised Sam I wouldn’t walk. I’ll get the bus home or ask Bella as awkward as it might be.

Paul eyed me, brow furrowing. Sam and Emily didn’t notice but I couldn’t help feeling like Paul could read my mind. It feels weird being known so well. I sat with them for an hour or so before going to get a shower and then get dressed, Emily had layed my clothes on my bed while I was in the shower, and I suddenly felt insanely sick at the thought of lying to her.

Wandering back into the kitchen I saw Paul wearing worker pants that were just wow. I looked away before he caught my gaze. My heart beating in my throat.

“Where are you working?” I asked, he was looking for a job before all of this.

“Sam’s construction, he let Jared and I join after we shifted, he runs the business you know?” he said looking at my clothes. Wide legged white pants and black shirt, I was holding my apron, the ugly thing.

“Actually, Sam’s gone in early, so can I drive you to work?”

I nod, grabbing my bag and kissing Emily’s cheek goodbye as she started working on a wooden chair. Emily sold wooden furniture, I made sure to make note of that since my parents were looking at getting a new kitchen done. As we left, I noticed Sam had taken Emily’s truck and left his own for Paul. Fuckers had planned this.

“you’re a horrible liar, you know.” Paul said as we drove away from Emily’s. Is he psychic? “Sam told me you normally finish early on Wednesday’s, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too. I finish at 12, i'll pick you up and explain everything.” I decided to play dumb.

“I thought you explained everything?” his laugh echoed in the car.

“We both know you’re too smart to think that.” The conversation ended, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not the same feeling as when Sam drove me, this was new.

“You can meet Henry when you pick me up.” I added, laughing at the thought.

“Who?” Paul said, the familiar jealousy peaking in his voice.

“Oh, he’s a real catch, total ladies’ man. I have a conspiracy that we’re psychically linked.” I said nonchalantly, absolutely doing it on purpose.

“That’s cool.” He said, sharply. These three hours were gonna go smoothly.

And they did. I was so excited for Paul to come pick me up I was practically jumping the whole three-hour shift. Henry had been side eyeing me all day, possibly worried I was on drugs or something.

“So, Paul’s going to pick me up and I’d like for you to meet him.” I told Henry as we stocked the shelves, or as I stocked them, and he micromanaged me.

“Eh okay.” He grumbled, I smiled, excited.

As 12 came I was practically glued to the window. Seeing Sam’s truck pull up my chest had a weight lifted off that I didn’t know was there. Pauls stocky figure walked up to the front door, and I beckoned him over to where I stood.

“Where’s this Henry then?” he asked, trying to seem calm.

“This way!” he must’ve been taken back by my excitement as he gasped slightly as I dragged him to the back of the store. “Henry! This is Paul.”

I watched as Pauls deflated face turned quickly into annoyance and relief as he saw Henry, who looked him up and down, grumbled and asked him if he could pick up some boxes for him. Paul agreed, but it didn’t feel like he had much choice in the matter. After ten minutes of Paul moving boxes around for Henry, I finally got him away, saying goodbye we left the store.

“You minx.” He laughed, opening my door for me.

Laughing I asked him what he was talking about.

“All morning. All morning! I spent worrying some hot bachelor called Henry had stolen your heart! Jared was getting annoyed at how pissy I was acting!” he whined, driving to LaPush.

We made it to first beach without Paul ripping my head off from annoyance. I tried not to dwell too hard on his blatant admission to his jealousy. But it made my head spin.

But he went silent as we walked to the rocks on the southside of the beach. Whatever he was about to tell me was very serious, and I was ready to hear. As we sat down, he looked at the necklace I was wearing, the citrine he bought me.

“You know when I bought you that necklace, I had no idea how beautiful it was.” He said, slowly looking up into my eyes.

“What do you mean? The lady handed it to you, I saw you look down at it.” I asked, searching his eyes for whatever he was trying to tell me.

“What do you remember about imprinting?” he asked, his hand lightly holding onto mine, the other splayed against the rocks. He took me off guard which must be visible on my face as he laughed at my expression.

“I remember you telling me about the imprint who saved the tribe from the vampires by sacrificing herself.” It was a harrowing tale, one that even as children Paul and I treaded on lightly.

“Uh huh, anything else?” he probed.

“I know how the elders described the imprint to feel.” At his silence I continued “that the universe centres around them,” I was whispering to him now, “that it is a love of the souls, bonded and combined.” He nodded.

“Anything else?”

“Paul why are you asking me this?” dread filled me, what if he had imprinted on someone else, I would respect it and understand but telling me like this had to be some form of torture. Deep down I knew that wasn’t the case.

“I imprinted on you.” My head whirled. Everything else became singular as I looked at Paul Lahote who became a multitude. “I was scared I’d imprint on someone else, and it’d be me loosing my agency in life you know,” I did, it was what I was worried about. “But I imprinted on you, at the beach. And I’ve always been in love with you. When we were kids and you would always climb the highest tree, never scared if you fell. When we’d braid each other’s hair. It’s always been you, even the fates agree.” The wind was knocked out of his lungs as I practically jumped onto him. My arms around his neck, his around my waist.

I pulled away. Remembering how this conversation started. “What did you mean, when you said you didn’t know how beautiful the necklace was?”

“That’s the other thing, turns out when we shift for the first time, we go colourblind.”

“What?”

“Wolves, they are naturally colourblind, Sam thinks that’s why we lose it, Jared and I used to think it was just another way the fates could steal life from us.” I listened intently. “That was until Sam imprinted on Emily. He said it was the most overwhelming experience of his life, not only because of the horrible family drama but because it was the first time in months, he had seen colour. We realised then that the only way we could see truly again was when we imprinted. You have to understand how terrifying it was after we’d first shifted, I thought I was dying” He took a deep, steadying breath. “After I first shifted you sent me a picture, do you remember?”

“Not really.” I admitted.

“It was of that cloud with the colours on it.” I nodded, remembering. It was a pileus cloud I’d seen in my back garden; he pulled out his phone. Scrolling sheepishly past the texts from him asking to talk to me and then texts from me, begging for an answer. He landed on a picture I sent, on the pileus cloud, they have colours sitting on them, rainbows laying on the soft clouds of the sky. Had I been taking my sight for granted? Spending my whole life gazing while he had it stolen from him?

“I cried for hours when you sent me this, I couldn’t see it, Sam had told me to cut off all contact with you and all I needed was you to- I don’t know- explain the colours to me since I couldn’t see them.” He breathed heavily; I could see the anger weighing on his shoulders once more. I didn’t interrupt him, just placed a hand on his thigh as an attempt to soothe. He smiled gently at this, still looking at the cloud. “It was two days after I’d shifted for the first time, and I was always so overwhelmed. I kept snapping and shifting in a fit of rage.”

As he waited for a response from me, I finally formed a semi-coherent sentence.

“I would’ve done the same. I can’t imagine how it- losing that- I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s those bloodsuckers.” He laughed. Smiling at me. We spoke for what felt like hours, it probably was but I didn’t mind. “I’m sorry to unload all of this onto you. I didn’t want to drag you into it, but you have to realise you call the shots, all you.”

“Is this why Sam didn’t pick me up yesterday?” I asked, remembering the hasty text Sam had sent me yesterday afternoon.

“Yeah,” he blushed, “I got angry at him, and he spent the whole day trying to convince me.”

“Couldn’t he just demand it?” the authority Sam had over the boys couldn’t be questioned, but it was a natural thing to him I felt it too.

“Yeah, but I know that he wanted me to make the choice, you’re my imprint after all.” He smiled, putting a hair behind my ear.

The sun had begun to set when Paul and I stopped talking, we’d spoke for hours. Catching up on each other’s lives, I told him about my fight with Quil and how I was feeling about Bella, and he listened. He told me about his dad, who’d decided to go work down south for a few months, leaving Paul the house to himself. That even though he gets the entire one-story building to himself he prefers to stay at Emily’s, he’d always hated being alone. He watched the sun set and I watched him. How it reflected on his clear skin, how his short hair was growing back. He’d explained that they’d all cut their hair after their first shift as to now only be practical but because they were grieving, grieving themselves. Paul was growing his hair again, determined to have a piece of himself back again, the hair length only mattered on the first few shifts. No one was sure why.

Going back to Sam’s truck I hold onto Paul’s hand, pulling him to a stop halfway across the beach. Getting closer to him I felt the warmth radiate from him, he couldn’t help but become the sun. The confused look on his face amused me, as I pulled him in and kissed him. His hand let go of mine as he wove his arms around my waist. My hands going to his back and his hair. He didn’t drive back to Emily’s. We spent the night in his house, the blue walls of his bedroom were known better than my own. Making out on his bed I sat on his lap, pulling his shirt of and then my own he grinned up at me.

“You’re so beautiful.” I didn’t say anything as I unhooked my bra, his jaw dropped slightly, and I blushed. He pulled his own jeans off and then switched our positions, so I was on my back as he took my white trousers of, discarding them somewhere in the room. I felt his lips on mine again which stopped me from staring at his well-defined chest, my hands felt him completely. I reached into his boxers as he whined slightly into my mouth at my slow and teasing actions.

“Don’t play with me.” He whispered into my ears as he ripped his boxers off, slowly taking my underwear off. As I felt him align himself, I looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but love.

Three weeks had passed since I found out about Paul’s imprint. Summer had begun to spread itself thinly and form into fall. I’d spoken to Quil, but he could tell I was hiding something. Especially since Jake had abandoned him without word and so did I. I knew he wanted to be apart of whatever was going on, but we all hoped he would never have to know, never feel the pain they all went through.

I spent most nights at Emily’s and some at Pauls but few and few at home. I wasn’t sure why my parents trusted my choices so much, but I figured they trusted Paul and I’d been a well-behaved teen. They did, however, begin to question why Bella Swan was constantly coming over asking for me. I couldn’t tell her. I still wasn’t over her not telling me anything. But Jake had ghosted her, just after I did. After the Cullen did. She had other friends, but it felt like a really shitty thing to do, I knew if I saw her, I’d just tell her everything. Even if she wouldn’t do the same for me.

I was at Emily’s when Embry, Jared, and Bella Swan herself came into the kitchen. She looked at me in shock and I gestured to the seat beside me, she shook her head. As Emily and I were informed on how Bella found herself in this predicament I laughed at the thought of Jake and Paul fighting, it didn’t surprise me. But I was shocked at Bella slapping him, she defended herself explaining she was angry and didn’t know we’d made up at this point. She didn’t know much. Jared told her that the pack was faster and better than the leaches, Bella seemed to feel more comfortable.

Sam, Jake, and Paul came into the house, Bella seemed to stow herself away in the corner. Her face went bright red after Paul apologised to her and kissed me, Sam complimented how well she took seeing two men turn into wolves in front of her and she laughed it off.

“How are you feeling?” Paul asked as I climbed into bed beside him.

“Tired, Bella gave me a hard time about me ignoring her, she’s right I guess.” Facing him in bed I tried to savour how the moon bounced off him. How he seemed to glow in the blue moonlight. He disagreed, but I knew Paul was biased he’d never really trusted Bella.

“What about Quil have you made up your mind on what you’re going to do?” He asked, kissing my nose as he pulled me to his chest.

“I’m going to go to his house tomorrow. I can’t tell him anything, but I need him to know I’m still his friend and I still love him. He’s one of my closest friends, his love is tough but its true you know?”

“I know.”

“How are you feeling?”

“everything’s getting calmer, but the red leech is still circling, these hikers need to learn to stay on the trail for their own sake.” He laughed; it wasn’t a happy laugh but an exhausted one. “Plus, Quil really might shift soon, I’m not sure how I feel about you going to see him in person.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Doesn’t make me worry any less.” He was holding me so close, our legs intertwined.

“He knows me better than anyone, which is scary but I won’t talk to him about the fight it doesn’t matter to me anymore. I can’t not have him in my life, it feels so good to be known so well. And not in the way you know me,” I clarified, “he knows me in a way that is tried and true, its not as intimate as how you know me, Quil challenges me, I challenge him. I can’t stand ignoring him.”

Paul nodded, he understood. He just hoped he didn’t shift in front of me.

“I love you.” He whispered into my hair.

“I love you more.” I whispered back, falling into a perfect sleep.

“Are you happy being with Paul?” Quil asked, grey hoodie swamping his tall figure.

“Yes.” I replied, arms crossed over my chest.

“I’m not surprised.” He sighed. Then, crossing the front room he looked out of his front window. “You really hurt me, you know.”

“I know.”

“And you can’t even tell me why!”

“I’m sorry.”

“You, Embry and Jake can’t tell me a single thing!” he yelled, still not looking at me. I had prepared for this, for him to hate me. I just didn’t expect it to feel so horrible.

“I’m sorry, Quil, I really am.” He looked at me, eyes desperate.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispered. Tears in my eyes I ran to him, colliding with his chest we both cried on each other. “Remember we’re not keeping score, no arguments-”

“No winners.” I finished; we didn’t keep score.

As he pulled away, we both wiped at the tears streaming down our faces.

“Lahote? Really?” he laughed; I punched him in the arm. “Ow! Okay, okay.”

For now, everything was okay. I could handle okay.

pauls pinterest board

an:// i hoped you all loved reading this as much as i loved writing it! you can see why its taken me so long to actually write this :') Tumblr always gets rid of my paragraph spacing it kills me:( the word doc for this fic is 19 pages long! this is the longest fic i've written, im very proud of it!! requests are open, take care of yourself. i love you- em x

@ribbons-in-your-hair @notperfect-justme @thebestrouge [you guys asked me to tag you if i wrote anything about this headcannon! i hope you enjoy it!]

#twilight #twilight saga #x reader #x you #twilight revival #paul lahote #new moon twilight #x y/n #twilight renaissance #twilight imagine #paul lahote imagine #twilight paul #twilight wolf pack #twilight wolves #paul lahote x reader #twilight fanfiction #uley pack

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