#but i’ve exhausted every slim volume i own

[sob-dylan]

i’m probably going to, finally, at long last, finish the neapolitan quartet/my brilliant friend series today. i don’t have that much more left, but i am considering slowing down to one page a day so i can drag this out. i’ve fallen so deeply in love with these girls and idk what i’m gonna do without them 😭

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Notting Hill AU Snippet #6

When they finally leave her brother's house, Lena is simultaneously exhausted and wired. Exhausted, because even a good time takes it out of her, and yet wired because the world's most famous woman is right next to her on the sidewalk, nudging shoulders as they walk down the block. It makes for a heady combination, which is the only reason at all that Lena finds herself rising to Kara's challenge of climbing over a wrought iron gate to the garden beyond.

"For the record," she huffs, struggling to find purchase with her bare hands, "I am not dressed for this-- whoopsie daisy!"

What the FUCK did she just say?

"What did you just say?" Kara echoes, her smile audible in the dark.

"Nothing," Lena brushes off as she resets. "Just, trying to get a decent foothold-- whoops!"

She slips again, and this time Kara laughs, the sound loud and musical. "You said whoopsy daisy. Like some mid-century housewife--"

"You keep distracting me!"

"From what? Another whoopsy daisy?" Kara nudges her aside, dusting off her hands. "Step aside, miss priss. Watch the professional work."

Lena obeys, turning her head aside to avoid her nose brushing a very toned, very firm ass as Kara shimmied her way up and over the fence in one try. Lena's mouth goes dry at the smoothness of the motion, and the way Kara's arms strain against the slim cut of her blouse.

Kara may be an actress, but she's clearly no waif.

The woman in question grins at her from the other side of the fence. "You know, you say you're not intimidated by a silly rule, but I think there may be some subliminal hangups..."

Lena scowls. "Oh, like hell."

Boots scrabbling against the fenceposts, Lena hauls herself up through sheer willpower alone. By the time she lands on her feet on the far side, Kara has disappeared further into the garden. With a quiet curse, Lena brushes herself off and straightens her hair before trotting after her.

"Wow..." Kara breathes when Lena catches up. "It's like it's own little world in here."

Lena watches her observe the garden, noting the way her eyes sparkle in the faint light trickling in around them. The field they stand in is lush beneath their feet, and even in the dark the scent of fragrant flowers fills the air.

Kara makes her way over to a bench, and reads the inscription on. "To June, who sat on this bench every day. From John, who always sat beside her."

Lena smiles at the sentiment, and the way Kara's voice softens as she reads it. It's beautiful, and she says so.

"I guess some love does last forever," Kara remarks, half to herself. She sits on the bench, smoothing her hands across the wood as if to ask its owners for the privilege. After a moment, she notices Lena watching. "Come sit with me."

Lena does, and they spend the night with Kara's head on Lena's shoulders, looking at the stars.

---

The next night, they go on a proper date. Or at least they try to, except Lena can't find her glasses and Querl is absolutely no help in finding them, so she watches the entire movie through the prescription lenses of her snorkel mask.

Luckily, it only makes Kara laugh, even if it earns Lena a couple handfuls of popcorn in her hair from being pelted. Afterwards, Lena takes them to her favorite sushi restaurant, and makes a show of ordering in Japanese.

"Arigato gozaimasu," she finishes, handing over her menu. When she looks across the table at Kara, she's pleased to see she's impressed.

"Now how did you learn Japanese if you've never traveled?"

Lena shrugs. "I may have dated a few travelers in my day."

"Uh huh," Kara deadpans. "What else did they show you?"

Looking up, Lena lets a lascivious grin curl her lips. "Maybe I'll get to show you."

Lena revels in the fluster that marks Kara's acceptance of the sake that comes a moment later, and marks the red blush that heats under tan skin. The conversation shifts away, but continues, and Lena lets it, content with the impact she's made.

As the meal winds down, they linger a little bit, trading information they haven't shared yet.

"What's the one place you want to go, above all others?" Kara asks.

Lena sighs. "I don't know." Kara looks at her suspiciously, and Lena lifts her hands. "I could give you the same tripe I give any customer in my shop, but the truth is, the idea of travel has never really been the destination for me."

Kara looks surprised at that. "Oh?"

With a hum, Lena nods. "For me, it's always been more about who you're traveling with. And for a while there, I thought I had someone, but she never wanted to go anywhere. In the end, it turned out she just never wanted to go anywhere with me."

It still aches. Her split with Veronica had been so sudden, it split Lena's entire entire world apart. It had been bad enough to learn that Veronica had well and truly checked out of their relationship long before she ended it. To hear that Veronica had never really been in it in the first place had--

"Then she's an idiot," Kara says, bringing Lena out of her thoughts back to the present day. She reaches across the table, and links their fingers together. "And it's her loss."

Lena forces a grin. "Funnily, that's exactly what my therapist said..."

A round of raucous table from the table behind them drowns out whatever else she might have said. Glancing over, Lena registers a group of young to middle aged men in suits-- likely stock brokers, in this part of town. They were rowdy even when they came in, but now--a round of sake later-- they're downright obnoxious.

The next one who speaks doesn't bother to mind his words or his volume.

"Give me Kara Danvers any day."

Kara meets Lena's eye across the table, rolling her eyes as his buddy chimed in.

"Didn't like her last film. Fell asleep as soon as the lights went down."

"Don't care what the films like-- if it's got Kara Danvers, it's fine by me. I mean, have you seen that ass."

Lena's jaw clenches. Kara's hand slips away, as does her gaze.

"Oh hell yeah," another one continues. "And you know she's just begging for it. Never wonder how she got that gig in Dirty Dancing, did you?"

"It sure as hell wasn't because she could dance!" They all laughed. Lena shifts in her seat, blood boiling, but Kara catches her eye, shaking her head no. Too late.

Lena rises to her feet and marches to the offending table. "Excuse me, boys, but every single person in this restaurant can hear you. And while I'm perfectly happy to watch you reveal yourselves to be the absolute cunts you are, I take exception to the fact that you're talking about a very real person in the process."

The table stares at her, shocked.

"You." Lena glares at the worst offender. "Does your mother know you debase women with the same mouth you use to kiss her on the cheek? How about your girlfriend, though I find it incredibly doubtful you've managed to shag anyone with that kind of charm."

Kara tugs on Lena's arm, trying to pull her away. Lena almost goes, but turns back at the last minute, nearly colliding with the server hurrying in with the table's paid check.

"Actually, I'm not finished. Until each and every one of you learns a woman's favorite song, color and five year goal, you sure as hell don't get to wonder what flavor condom she prefers, you got it?" Her gaze lands on the platinum credit card in the ticket tray, and smirks in triumph when she sees it's a corporate card.

"And I'm sure that Lord Holdings will be thrilled to hear all about how their employees behave while they're out eating on the company's dime."

At that, the man she'd skewered a moment ago finally recovers enough to scoff. "Hah, and what do you care? What are you, her sister?"

"Actually," Kara speaks up, coming to stand beside Lena. "She's my date."

Dead silence follows as every single one of them registers who exactly is speaking. Finally, one of them tries to sputter an apology, but Kara waves it off.

"Oh, no, don't worry about it. I'm sure it was just joking between friends, just as I'm sure your dicks are the size of peanuts. Enjoy your dinner!"

With that, Kara turns away, snagging Lena's hand as she does. Allowing herself to be towed away, Lena flips them the vee and grins, then joins Kara in trotting out of the restaurant.

As soon as they hit the street they both start to cackle, drawing stares as they laugh maniacally. Lena's heart is pounding, as is Kara's, judging from the way she holds a hand against her chest.

"Oh, my god... I-- I've never done that before!" Kara laughs. "I don't know what came over me!"

"What, standing up for yourself? You're a natural!"

"No, you were amazing! I dunno, I just heard you and I saw you facing off against them all alone, and I just-- did that! I just did that!"

Kara laughs again, and Lena tugs her closer by the hips. Pressing a kiss to her lips, Lena smiles at her. "It looks good on you," she purrs. "You should do it more often."

Kara smiles back at her, rubbing her thumbs on the ridges of Lena's hips. "Maybe I will."

Lena could kiss her again, but Kara steps back, tugging them back in the direction of the hotel. "Walk me home?"

The walk back is spent in comfortable silence, but as they near the marquee of the Ritz, Lena's heart starts to pound for a whole new reason when Kara turns to her. "Wanna come up?"

Lena nods. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Kara gives a small of relief, and smiles. "Good. Give me five minutes."

The next five minutes are the longest of Lena's life. But she waits them, hands jammed into her pockets, and counts every second before finally allowing herself to head up to the room.

When she knocks, she isn't entirely sure what to expect. A robe, maybe, left open to reveal tantalzyingly firm abs. Matching lingerie, even, to match Kara's eyes.

What she doesn't expect is Kara fully clothed with panic in her eyes.

"You've got to go," Kara whispers.

Lena freezes, but keeps her smile in place. "Why?" she whispers back.

"Because my boyfriend, who was in America, is in fact here in the next room."

previous / next

[freckledoriya]

“no flash photography” (midoriya x reader)

WARNINGS: none, just fluff!

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: You’re a pro-hero photojournalist assigned to capture the number one hero, Deku. But what happens when you start catching feelings through your camera lens?

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

TAGLIST: at the end of the post, message me to be added/removed!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this my fourth fic for @bnhabookclub‘s bingo event (see my bingo masterlist here). and a big thanks to @sunflower-kami-boi and @gallickingun​ for beta reading and supporting me!! 

You love Izuku Midoriya: the way his freckles speckle his cheekbones, his ability to smile even through his toughest battles, the mess of green curls that are just begging to have your hands run through them. And then there are his hands: soft, yet calloused from fighting. When you interlock your hands with his, you swear you can feel electricity from his quirk pass from him to you. At least, that’s what you imagine holding hands with him would be like. 

No, you don’t love Izuku Midoriya. You love taking pictures of Izuku Midoriya. 

That’s the correction that you keep telling yourself. Your job as a hero photojournalist has been a journey, one that started out as a fangirl’s hobby and morphed into a profession as a photographer for the magazine Hero Weekly. More specifically, a photographer who was recently assigned to capture exclusively the world’s number one hero, Deku. 

The day that Midoriya was given the title of number one was the day that everything changed for you. You went from a respected photographer to what often felt like part of the paparazzi, following Izuku around the city as he fought villains, but also secretly taking pictures as he went out to dinner with his fellow heroes. That part of your job kept you up at night. You knew it was an invasion of his privacy, but you needed the approval from your boss. The guilt and fear crawled all over your skin, amplified only when you started catching feelings for the hero. But your dream of becoming a renowned hero photographer depended on it. So you pushed aside all the anxiety and did exactly what your manager asked of you: 

“I want to know who he’s dating, what he likes, dislikes, details of his quirk, extra bonus if you happen to get shot of him shirtless” your boss rattled off. 

Ever since All Might’s retirement, the magazine had been hurting for another star to focus on. It resulted in budget cuts and threatened lay-offs, leaving everyone, including you, on thin ice. And after years of waiting, young upstart Midoriya fit that bill perfectly. His curls seemed to frame his round yet somehow chiseled face. And those freckles. If his beautifully sculpted body wasn’t enough to get the fangirls on board, the freckles always got them. After all, he didn’t become number one solely from his nearly flawless track record with villains; it definitely didn’t hurt that he had a shy and modest smile that any woman would be enchanted by. 

You sure were.

But being assigned to Deku was an exhausting task. Following him around from battle to battle was hard enough, and you soon found yourself in a battle of your own-- one with your deep admiration towards the green-haired hero. You began to feel linked somehow with Izuku through your photos. It was as one-sided as you could get, with Midoriya never knowing your existence (a fact that caused an unbelievable amount of pain). Despite this, you felt like you knew Izuku personally, as if he goes on dinner dates with you at his favorite restaurant on the corner. Or that it’s he, not the press, that reveals his ticks and habits. You would sit a considerable distance away, watching through a cafe window, imagining yourself on the other side of the table from him. You’d laugh at his jokes, flirt and cause him to get all adorably flustered, and gaze longingly into his emerald eyes. You hope and wish that one day it won’t just be through a camera lens. 

You couldn’t help but feel some kind of intimate connection with the hero. After all, you experienced just about everything he did. His fights, his wins, his loses… every scar, every bruise, you were there for it all. So how could you not feel this way? 

It was all inevitable, and you gave right into it: reading everything you could find on him, even going to his regularly visited coffee shop on your day off of work. You knew the chances of running into him were slim, and yet you did it anyway. You were desperately chasing a feeling of closeness with him, and somehow sitting in a place that he visited gave you a piece of what you craved. 

You ponder this as you sit in the aforementioned cafe, sipping your coffee and going through the photos on your camera, jotting down notes. It’s crowded, the morning rush, so you pay no mind to the “ding” of the door opening and the tall hero walking in. It’s his voice when he orders that catches your attention, a voice unmistakably belonging to the one and only, Izuku Midoriya.

You quickly turn away and throw your hand over your mouth, wary of any sounds that might come out. This was different from when you would see him behind a camera lens. You weren’t doing work, surrounded by others clamoring to get a money shot. You were here as you, not just a nothing face behind flashing lights. 

When you turn back around, you half expect him to be gone, for you to have totally gone crazy imagining him. But, he’s still there. He’s in what must be his work out clothes: basketball shorts and a worn All Might shirt, looking as effortlessly perfect as every other time you’ve seen him. And that’s when it hits you. This is it. This is the chance you have to talk to him. 

But what would you say? What could you say? What if he recognizes you as one of the no-life photographers who follow him around? Should you keep that a secret? Will he hate you? A thousand questions fly through your head as you ponder the possibilities. Should you call out to him? Would it be weird that you know his name? Do you call him by his hero name or his real name? 

He begins to walk past you after grabbing his coffee order. Your heart drops at the sight of him leaving.

Do something.

“Deku!” you call out, careful to keep your volume as low as possible as to not alert the other patrons around you. 

He quickly turns and looks at you expectantly. “Yes?”

“Um…”

Say something.

“I…”

Anything. 

“I’m a really big fan!”

Anything but that.

But it’s too late. The words were spoken and reached Midoriya’s ears.

“T-Thank you,” he looks away, smiling as a slight blush appears on his freckled cheeks. 

“So do you take pictures?” he asks, nodding down to your camera on the table.

“Yeah,” you reply shakily, still deciding on how much information about yourself you should reveal. 

Izuku smiles at you. “What do you like to take pictures of?”

Shit.

You swallow and nervously pick at your cuticles. You don’t want to lie to him, but you don’t exactly want to start off the relationship with him knowing you take secret pictures of him so that a magazine can sell. You tread carefully as you speak. 

“Heroes,” you reply simply. “I take pictures of heroes.”

Letting out an awkward laugh, you gesture to the seat across from you, inviting him to join you. 

“Can you show me some of your work?” He tilts his head in curiosity as he accepts your invitation to sit down. 

No no no no no. 

You embarrassingly know that the camera you’re currently holding contains pictures you took of the hero last night as he left his high-rise apartment. Thinking quickly, you pull out your phone and go to the Hero Weekly website, remembering that they ran a picture you snapped of Red Riot in battle last week. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just a photo you captured for fun when you happened to stumble upon the fight. Still, it was better than showing what was on your camera memory card currently. 

“Whoa, that’s a great picture of Kirishima!” he says ecstatically. “Is that from Hero Weekly? That’s impressive!”

His praise causes your stomach to do flips. “Thank you. I really appreciate that coming from you.”

“What got you into taking pictures of heroes?”

You sigh and look into your coffee cup, hoping the beverage will spell out the right words to say. 

“I’ve always really looked up to heroes. Ever since I was little. But I never bought into the “larger than life” hero personas that the rest of the media seemed to portray. They miss the most amazing thing about heroes: they’re human, just like everyone else.”

You look at Izuku shyly, unsure if you should be opening up to him like this after just meeting him. “When I photograph heroes, I like to ground them, see past the exterior. Capture their magnificent strength and power, but show that they have feelings, wants, and needs. They all have passions and flaws. And that’s what I love so much about heroes. They’re relatively ordinary humans that do extraordinary things.”

There’s a beat of silence that passes as Midoriya looks at you in amazement. He smiles and slightly bites his lip, obviously debating about the next thing he wants to say.

“Is that why you photograph me in private places?”

You feel your heart plummet. “H-How did you know?” 

Izuku blushes and rubs the back of his neck embarrassingly. “I kinda of… may have… noticed you a few times.”

You’re stuck in shock, your mind short-circuiting, leaving your mouth slightly ajar with no words coming out. 

Deku sees your frozen look and starts frantically waving his hands, speaking at a million words per second. “Not in a weird or creepy way of course just that you’re really pretty and sometimes when I’m out places I notice you trying to get my picture so sometimes I make sure to give you a clear shot, I really hope that’s okay, It’s not because I don’t think you’re capable of getting your own picture, I just-”

A fit of giggles escapes from your lips. “How are you even more adorable than I imagined?” 

He blushes as you try to stop laughing. 

But you can’t help it. All your worries and fears melt away and you’re left with all you ever wanted: sitting across from the blushing hero Deku in a cafe, pure happiness running through your veins. 

You don’t even notice the paparazzi capturing the moment from the bushes outside. 

TAGLIST: 

@gallickingun @prismaroyal @wesparklebitch @bnha-violetnote @sunflower-kami-boi @shoutosteakettle @strwbrry-lia @ee-blue @shoutodoki @sadistiks @knifeewifee @viceofaladriel @saltie @khemz1312 @frenchspeakingfilipina @tessaisalbright @katsumi-kaminari @pixxiesdust @izukuwus​

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Sooooo NSFW alphabet (as a whole) for our dear clone boys? Wolffe or Cody...u decide ❤ thank u

A/N: I decided to go with Wolffe on this one because, I like Wolffe.  Also, I think I’ve got a better grasp on his character. And, just as a reminder REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS!!! Likes mean nothing on this site and the tags hate me personally.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Panting, sweating, and holding you close.  He seriously loves nothing more than pulling you against him as he presses soft kisses all over your skin.  You practically have to bribe him to let you go long enough to wash up after.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves your ass.  There’s no getting around it.  He loves the way it feels in his hand.  He loves the sound you make when he squeezes it.  And most of all, he hates to see you leave, but he loves to watch you go.

For himself, Wolffe is pretty proud of his chest.  He loves the feel of your hands on him.  He knows you watch him when he’s training with his brothers.  And you’ve made it your mission in life to kiss an admire every scar on it.  How could he not appreciate your efforts?

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It’s a tie if he prefers cumming in your mouth or in your cunt more.  Either way, cumming inside you is the best feeling in the world for him.  It’s like he’s proving to himself that you’re his.  It’s his cum inside you, nobody else, and you’re letting him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He still has your panties from the first night you had sex.  He’s not proud of it, but when he’s been away from too long, he likes to hold the lace as he jerks off.  He would never tell you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Let’s go with limited before he meets you. Obviously none of the clones even see any sort of potential sexual partner until after their training is over, and after then it’s kind of few and far between.  Wolffe has had a couple of one night stands with some women who have come into 79′s, but that’s about it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style.  Cliche? Yes. But true. He loves having a perfect view of your ass as he cock slides in and out of you, coated with you slick.  He loves the control it gives him.  But he especially loves covering you with his body and bite into your shoulder as you both cum.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not really.  He can be a little cheeky at times as he teases you, but most of the time it’s fast, rough, and completely erotic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps it pretty trim down below.  He knows you’re not a fan of a mouth full of pubic hair when you suck him off.  The least he can do is keep your comfort to a minimum.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

In the moment it’s like he wants to absorb your body into his. Even when he’s taking you from behind, he grabbing and pulling and kissing your skin like it’s the only thing keeping him alive.  So, romantic? Maybe not.  Intimate? Yes.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s away a lot and every now and again needs to let off some steam.  He shares his bunk with his brothers, so getting off there without leaving some evidences is a trick.  Most of the time he waits until late at night on the ship and slips into the showers when nobody is around.  It’s then a matter of turning on the warm water and picturing you’re in there with him.  He’s gotten off plenty of times to the thought of your lips wrapped around his cock as the water pours down both your bodies.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise kink. We know Wolffe has his own reservations about being a clone.  While he’s gotten better, the idea that he’s one of literally millions ways on him at times.  So to have you call his name, praise his fingers, his cock, his lips and know that he’s the one making you see stars is everything to him.

Also totally a Dom.  Not full blown latex and whips, but he does like the idea of tying you up and letting him do what he wants to your body.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His favorite place is your apartment on Coruscant.  If he’s at your apartment, good chance you’re both on leave so the probability of being call away or interrupted are slim to none.  He once kept you in that apartment for three days straight after not seeing you in months.  All you did was fuck, eat, sleep and fuck again for almost 72 hours.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly, just you whispering into his ear and telling him you’re horny is enough to get him going.  You add and kiss and a small bite on his neck and he’s ready to take you against the nearest wall.  You’re own assertiveness combined with the fact you want him to be the one to take care of you is all he needs.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

You humiliating him.  Seriously, degrading him or hitting him or anything like that just gets him frustrated and upset.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He man loves a good blow job. I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s a toss up for him between cumming down your throat or in your pussy.  The sight of you on your knees with your lips wrapped around his cock has gotten him through plenty of lonely nights.

That all being said, he’s excellent at giving.  Although, he almost exclusively uses it as a form of torture.  There was one memorable night when he tied your hands to the headboard and decided to see how many times he could make you cum with just his tongue and fingers.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most of the time it’s rough borderline feral sex.  Lots of hair pulling, biting, bruised hips and a couple of broken headboards.  If you’re both not panting like you just ran a marathon he considers it a slow night.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

On the rare occasion you’re working along side each other, quickies are definitely a thing. He never has a quickie while on duty, but he knows there is no way you guys can get enough privacy to had a full sessions.  So, the solution is quickies in empty shower rooms, abandoned tech rooms, and even once an empty med bay.  He’s not sure when he’s going to see you again and doesn’t want to waste the opportunity

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Wolffe really is up for anything, so long as you talk to him before hand.  He wants to makes sure you’re comfortable and safe with whatever you guys try out.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His stamina is actually pretty impressive.  You’re not sure if it’s just pent up energy since you guys so rarely get to see each other in person or if he’s just like that.  Either way, he can go three rounds on an average night.  They fluctuate in terms of time depending on how much foreplay is in between sessions, but it’s enough to leave you both exhausted and spent by the end of it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Wolffe doesn’t really have any toys for himself.  The mocking he would get from his brothers if they ever found it is enough for him not to risk it.  But, you do have a nice collection of toys in your apartment the pair of you like to bring out every now and again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is such a tease.  There is just something about you tied to the bed, bucking your hips as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers begging for him to let you cum that is oh so satisfying.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He certainly is loud.  Add that to another reason why your apartment is the best place to have sex.  He grunt and groan and whispers dirty things in your ear only to get louder and more wild the closer he is to cumming.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Absolutely none of his brothers really realize how bad he has it for you.  Wolffe more than almost any other clone knows how to divide his private life from his personal life.  Even if you work together and go off to random corners of the ship for a quick one, literally nobody catches on.  The man has the best poker face in the GAR and you can quote me on that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I’m convinced all the clones are hung and you can quote me on that.  An eight inch thick dick, the lot of them.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high, which surprises everyone besides you.  Every chance he has to touch you, he does.  You wonder if it will cool down once the war is over because there’s no chance any time soon.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’s out pretty soon after you finally call it a night.  Grant you are too, but he’s out like a light.  Nothing short of a bombing is going to get him up.

[yunohawkeye]

Satan NSFW Alphabet (800 Follower Special)

It may have taken some time but it’s finally done! Thanks to all of you for your patience!

Thanks to @reneotomegirl for beta reading :)

I’ve already done C, D, E, M and R here

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Surprisingly, you can expect a lot of cuddles afterwards, mainly consisting of you putting your head on his chest and him drawing patterns on your back and arms.

He’s also one for pillow talk even though he may not seem like it because he feels a lot more vulnerable after such intimacy.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On you he loves your back and neck. The vulnerable position it puts you in shows him how much you trust him.

On himself he found out that he likes his face, not particularly the way it looks but the way he melts when you cup his cheeks in your hands.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He actually has two positions he loves to do with you, depending on who’s the one in charge that day.

When you’re the one on top he loves the lizard position. It gives you enough space to keep in control but it also sates the intimacy he craves.

Otherwise Satan is a big fan of the anvil position. Then angle and having your legs around his head really does it for him.

Visuals:

dom!Satan: https://sexpositions.club/positions/283.html 

sub!Satan: https://sexpositions.club/positions/115.html

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He isn’t really one to make many jokes but when it happens it’s mostly in the form of teasing. Although a joke at Lucifer’s expense will happen once or twice.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Yes, with Satan the carpet matches the drapes. He has blonde public hair and normally keeps it neatly trimmed. Once you’re in a relationship and ask him to shave it once, he’ll keep it like that.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Most of the time sex between you is very intimate. It takes a lot for him to trust someone, so such a display of intimacy isn’t something he shows lightly.

But he is the Avatar of Wrath after all, so when he’s angry and needs to calm down there might not be much romance or intimacy but he’ll feel bad after and talk with you during cuddles. He’ll even spoil you to no end, doing everything you ask of him.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off often. The urge only hits him like once in a blue moon, but if it does, it happens in his room and only after he made sure no one would be able to interrupt him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He’s a switch. He loves to dominate you and give you orders, making you beg while edging you for as long as he wants. He’s also a fan of brat taming and giving out punishments.

He also loves to be dominated, although it takes some time for him to actually warm up to you about it if you don’t mention it yourself.

If you’re strict with him he’ll love it, he hates it when orders come from Lucifer but if they come from you, he’d be more willing to obey them. But beware, he likes to be a brat as well.

Another thing he really likes is pet play. Both ways.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

He prefers to keep it to the bedroom because there’s always the unpredictability of his brothers. Although it has happened in the library once or twice in the middle of the night.

If you’d ever have an apartment on your own you can make sure every piece of furniture will be used at least once.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He’d do nothing that leaves scars or hurt you too much. Piss and scat play are both things he wouldn’t do as well.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers giving over receiving. The way you come undone under or above him really makes him feel satisfied as well.

Satan will ask for a blowjob now and then but it’s not his go-to. Although if you’re the one in charge it’s a good way to tame him because he’s very sensitive after some edging.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can do both. Mostly he’ll go rough, which does not only happen when something angered him before, he just likes it rough most of the time.

But he’ll go slow and sensual, too. He loves the intimacy between the two of you when your bodies move as a unit together, every stroke making your skin feel like it’s on fire.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He prefers to take his time with you, relishing in the intimacy between you two. But there are some times when a quickie between the back shelves isn’t that far fetched.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Satan can go for about 2-3 rounds, depending on how intense they are. He might be a little embarrassed by it but if you’re the one in control his endurance isn’t as high, especially if you tease him a lot.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He likes to use things like a simple vibrator on you but only tries it out once to sate his curiosity. When he’s on top he actually isn’t that much of a fan but will use anything you ask him to. But once or twice the urge strikes him and he makes a session only using toys.

In comparison he loves them being used on him, although he’ll deny it at first. But the way he falls apart when you edge him with a cockring around his member speaks volumes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Satan likes to tease no matter the position. He’ll try to tease you when you’re the one taking control, but in his opinion there’s nothing more sexy as when you discipline him when he does.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He mostly lets out pants but when he starts moaning, which is the case when he gets close, it’s in a moderate volume. If you want him to be louder though, he’ll become more vocal after you tease and edge him a lot.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He has thought about having his way with you in Lucifer’s room while his brother is away, just to mess with him. The thought always comes to him after another heated argument with him. But he won’t force you though.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Satan is rather slim but average in length, but oh boy does he know how to make use of it.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is rather average but there are some things that make a burst of lust shoot through his body. This mostly happens when something has angered him more than usual plus he gets really turned on by you being angry at someone or something.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) 

When it happens at night in one of your rooms he’ll stay awake until you’re asleep and then just spend some time watching you some more until he thinks about going to sleep. If he’s taken on the submissive role that day it really depends on how much you’ve asked of him. Because then he’ll try to stay up but if he’s too exhausted he can’t help but let his head fall on top of your chest and let sleep take over.

[letswritebangtan]

Can you do one where the reader is a self made millionaire from her online businesses and how they would react to it? Could it be like a longer reaction pretty please? If you can only do a few members, I’d pick mankae line and Namjoon 😘😘

I only managed to do it for Namjoon and Jimin. I hope that’s okay. You’re welcome to leave more requests in the ask box, though! Thanks for requesting :))) 

Namjoon:

(also can we just take a moment toappreciate this cutieee sjksfjhs)

“Hyung, look at this,” Jungkook said without takinghis eyes off his phone, and moving closer to Namjoon. 

Namjoon hummed and looked over to the screen thatwas being held in front of him. It was an Instagram page that was veryaesthetically pleasing to the eye. There were several desserts on the page, alllooking incredibly pretty and delicious. He also took notice of the thousandsof followers the page had, and the number of comments fighting to get the toppick of weekly pastries. 

“These look great, what’s the business called?” heasked.

“The Muffin Man,” Jungkook said. “But that’snot what’s important.”

“Then what is?” Namjoon asked.

“Look who owns it,” Jungkook said, showing Namjoona picture of you with a piping bag, decorating cookies.

“No way, that’s definitely not Y/N. She’s nevertold me anything about this,” he said shocked.

“Your girlfriend is probably making more money than you, hyung,” Jungkook teased.

Namjoon sent him a playful glare and then pulledout his phone to call you. 

“Hey, Joon,” you piped.

“Babe, what is this baking business you own thatI’m hearing about. Is it true?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing it for years now. Why?”

“You never told me!” he exclaimed.

“You never asked, Joon-ah,” you giggled.

“There better be some sweet treats waiting for mewhen I get home,” he grumbled.

“Oh trust me, Joon, you’re going to have somethingway more sweet than any baked goods you’ve ever had,” you said biting your lip.

Jungkook had a horrified expression on, “Canyou guys, like, not?”

“Shut up, Jungkook. And just you wait, Y/N”

;))))) you know what happened. 

 Jimin:

The boys just finished performing at another arena tonight, and they were beyond exhausted. Once Jimin got back to the hotel, he jumped into the shower to cool himself off and scrub himself clean. He walked out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his slim torso and went to switch on the television so that some volume filled up the empty room that he had all to himself. The moment he switched on the television though, an advertisement popped up.

“So, Y/N, what inspired you to come up with this makeup line, seeing that you’re making millions from it almost every day?” an announcer said. 

Jimin frowned in confusion at the mention of your name. Ah, maybe it was another Y/N.

But then he heard your familiar, sweet laugh. “Actually, it isn’t the money that concerns me. Anyhow, what inspired me was actually the young girls of the generation that talk about….”

Jimin gasped when he heard your voice. You? Owning your own makeup line? You must have been filthy rich but you were so humble you didn’t show it at all. Jimin pressed the call button and a few seconds later your face popped up on the screen. 

“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt, Jimin-ah? You’ll catch a cold. Not that the view is bad or anything,” you said cheekily.

Jimin smirked and chuckled lightly, but then he realised what he had called you for. 

“Y/N L/N, do you mind explaining to me why on earth I have no clue about you owning one of the most famous makeup lines in the industry?” he asked. 

“You just found out? I thought you knew even before we started dating,” you replied. 

“You never told me! How was I supposed to know you owned it?”

“Okay, well now you do. It really isn’t that big of a deal,” you giggled. 

“I’ve been using your products all this while and I didn’t even know it,” Jimin complained, unconsciously pouting. 

“Well, what do you think?” you asked curiously.

He sighed and then smiled. “They’re great, babe, I’m proud of you.”

You cheered and thanked him, making him smile cutely at you. 

“I miss you so much, Y/N. Just a few more weeks and I’ll be home okay?”

“Me too,” you huffed, “I can’t wait to see you, babe.”

Just then, Yoongi walked into the room. 

“Hyung, how did you enter? You don’t have a key card,” Jimin said.

“Doesn’t matter. I came to ask for the concealer. Where is it?” Yoongi asked.

“About that! Hyung, did you know that the makeup we’ve been using all this while was created by none other than Y/N?” Jimin said enthusiastically.

Yoongi deadpanned, “You didn’t know?”

You burst into laughter and Jimin complained for the rest of the night. 

__________________________________________________________

[albion19]

Bonkai wip

So I’m going to post stuff that’s been in a folder for too long. It’s all unfinished and some posts will be longer than others. Enjoy!

Shadows and whispers follow her through the empty house, a house that she cannot stand to be in any longer. She is going to sell it and think about where to go next. Not Virginia but somewhere South. Maybe New Orleans…

No, that’s where Kai is.

Kai Parker. Her arch nemesis, not that he viewed her as such. She had locked him up in a Prison World, a looping cold day in February. Just after Valentine’s day. He liked to sing her sad love songs when she visited him…She should have killed him, as Ric wanted but he had answers. Elena remained asleep for months after Stefan died and in that time Kai had toyed with Bonnie, offering the answers to all her problems…

Lights flashed in the dark. Red, green, blue, white. Again and again. Music played, a song that had been playing for months on end, never abating. It was a form of torture and some nights in the silence of her empty room she thought she could hear it.  Kai was desiccated and she wondered as she forced the straw between his lips if he could hear Two Princes even unconscious. It likely followed him into his nightmares. She lowered the volume a little and tried not to let it show how much it annoyed her too.

He took some time to get his bearings as she squeezed the last of the blood into his mouth and stepped back. He lifted a woozy, pale face and groaned.

“No…turn – turn it off.”

“I’ll turn the sound down if you answer my question.”

He looked away from the jukebox and landed his unfocused eyes on her. She saw the moment he realised who she was, that she was real. He smiled and she could not help but feel a vindictive pride. He had boasted that Katherine would make them suffer but Bonnie had stopped her, had literally stopped hell in its tracks.

“…I take it back.”

“What?” she stepped closer as Kai shifted in his chair, the chains clinking. He looked more like his usual self-possessed self, his colour returning. Infuriating.

“You’re the baddest bitch.”

Bonnie looked down to hide her smirk, half in shadow but Kai saw and grinned. Bonnie looked back up with a stern face. “You don’t seem surprised. I thought you lost a bet?”

“I did because I thought you’d figure who was in the casket. Am I surprised you beat Katherine? No, I was counting on it,” he admitted and Bonnie narrowed her eyes. “I wanted hell gone, Cade or no Cade. I told Kathy that you were weak, that you were no threat so she’d leave you alone. I didn’t care that hell was in better hands, I never intended to go back there. She could burn forever for all I cared, though she’d likely try to drag me along with her when she realised I fucked her over. You sticking me in here was actually a good thing,” he mused, looking around the bar.

Bonnie smirked. “We both know that’s a lie.”

“Whatever. I’m just saying I never underestimated you Bonster.”

Bonnie nodded, looking at the ground and did not answer. He might be lying but he sounded sincere. She moved closer and caught his gaze, which was a bright blue in the spotlight. “Wake up Elena.”

“Oh is she still snoozing? Tried true love’s kiss? Damn I should have done that instead. Just to see Damon’s face when it doesn’t work.”

“Stop playing games. I died for a minute, I saw her in some limbo place but she’s still sleeping. You said if one of us died she would wake up.”

“Well, she did wake up for that minute you were dead. That limbo place is where I trapped her soul but she could have crossed over with you taking her place. You came back.”

Bonnie shook her head, remembering how Enzo had pushed her out of that dreamy world and back to the land of the living. Bonnie shook the empty blood bag at Kai.

“If you ever want free from those chains you have to tell me about the spell!”

“Sure but it wouldn’t make any difference. I’m the one that cast it, so I’m the only one that can undo it.”

“Then undo it.”

“You’ll let me out?” he asked, smirk on his mouth. He knew the answer to that.

“Of those chains, yes. You’ll be free to walk away and never hear that song again,” Bonnie said and Kai looked hatefully at the jukebox. He sighed, looking back at her.

“I said my death made the spell I put on Elena permanent. So if we reverse that, make me a shiny new living breathing witch again, she’ll wake.”

“Bring you back to life? Sure I’ll just get on that Lazarus.”

He stared fixedly, eyes drilling into hers. “Come on, you know what to do,” he said, ignoring her sarcasm.

“Sorry but the cure is off the table.”

“Pretty sure it’s all room temperature and housed in a soon to be rapidly ageing Salvatore.”

He grinned and Bonnie’s stomach plummeted. “If you drink the cure Damon will die.”

Kai pouted. “My heart bleeds for him Bon, truly, but that’s the condition. I can’t wake up Elena while I’m kinda-sorta dead. If Damon loves Elena then he should be willing to sacrifice everything for her, right? I find them utterly gross but that would even give me warm fuzzies.”

Bonnie threw up her hands. “You’re full of shit. If he does that he and Elena will never be together.”

“And if he doesn’t he’ll grow old without her. Or more likely die of liver failure in a year or two. So either way he’s screwed,” he tried hard not to grin and failed.

“Or I could die.”

The smile on Kai’s face dimmed and then vanished at her quiet, considering words. “No, you won’t. You die and this place collapses because you helped make it. You’d be letting me out. You can guess what’ll happen then.” His smirk returned but there was a dark desperation there. With the twins alive it was unlikely the prison would collapse, just become unstable.

Bonnie was lying, she would not risk her life to wake Elena. She had promised Enzo that she would live every moment of her life with no regrets and she was not going to break that promise.

“So you get the cure and Elena wakes?”

“The retro Gemini version of me destroys the binding agent for the spell and then Elena wakes, yes.”

“What’s the binding agent?”

“Damon,” he said and shrugged at her appalled face. “I didn’t know he was gonna become human and solve my heretic dilemma. I actually brought the cure with me from 1903 but someone burned my body. It was in my pocket the whole time.”

He stared at her in accusation and all Bonnie could do was gawp. After the wedding massacre she had gone back to the barn and set his headless body on fire. She had no clue he had the cure to vampirism. Bonnie cupped her face, shaking her head.

“You’re so exhausting. How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Do a spell on me. I’m not lying. I’ll become human and wake Elena. Waking her will also break the link between you. For what it’s worth, I probably shouldn’t have done that. I was hurt,” he said with something like remorse, a winching thing.

“Bo fucking ho. I swear if you’re lying I will never come back. Do you get it? You’ll be alone forever.”

Kai’s eyes flashed with fear before he smiled gently. “Nah. We’re gonna grow old together Bon.”

*

He was right. Damon had trashed the mansion, gotten drunk for about a month and then agreed. He never deserved Elena, the one man who did was now dead and if Damon could make up for that sacrifice by giving Elena the chance to live her life then he would do it.

Kai had been grinning from ear to ear, though he did try at times to look sombre but that just pissed Damon off more. As Damon laid Elena down on the pool table Bonnie had switched off the jukebox, which made Kai a little teary eyed before he motioned at his chains.

“Can’t do this with my hands tied.”

With a strong feeling of dajavu Bonnie released Kai, who stretched for five minutes before getting off the stage. Then he picked up the chair he had been sitting in and threw it at the jukebox. He sighed as the glass shattered.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months. Okay, let’s do this.”

He drank Damon’s blood after giving a toast, which had been poured into a shot glass. He then asked them to take Elena’s hands. Bonnie sneered as Kai’s long, slim fingers laced through hers, while he took Damon’s wrist. He chanted, eyes closed and Bonnie watched as he wavered, his breathing becoming laboured as sweat dripped down his face. The cold snap she usually felt when touching a vampire started to fade, though with a heretic her magic recoiled at the wrongness of his nature. It was slowly replaced with the familiar warm vibration of a human witch. The magic within her became coaxed, sensing a power equal to her own but before she could delve into it Elena opened her eyes.

Kai stepped back, releasing them and gave Bonnie and Damon space as they cried and hugged a disorientated Elena. The crying became hard and he shied away, looking uncomfortable. Bonnie, after kissing her friend, quickly caught Kai as he left.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Outside? All that wailing and hair rending is giving me a headache. God, can you feel that?” he asked as they stepped out onto the empty street. Dusk light cast long shadows behind them as Kai dragged in a great lungful of air.

“Feel what?”

“Nature. All the little night creatures are waking up and there’s a smell of spring in the air. I’ve missed this.”

Bonnie gazed at him. Kai was awful, he was a killer and ruined so many lives. She never forgot he was a witch but that connection to nature that she felt in her bones was not something she associated with Kai.

“I never took you for a nature lover.”

“I’m a witch, it’s just instinctive. Fuck I hated being a heretic, the two natures did not get on at all. I had to really depend on siphoning my vampirism more than nature. It thought I was icky,” he sighed and leaned against the wall of the bar. He motioned behind them. “The looping of time in this world should slow his ageing a little but he’ll still die. Are you gonna stay here until then?”

Bonnie nodded. “I am…but they need space to say goodbye. You can’t be here to ruin that.”

Kai smirked. “Gonna chain me up again? Bonnie you’ve got this whole freaky side to you I never knew existed.”

“You wish.”

“Seriously, it’s hot,” he laughed, biting his lip and she turned away. He grabbed her arm and she hissed.

“Don’t touch me,” she shoved him back and he grinned, flicking his fingers at the necklace she wore.

“Vampire blood? Elmo’s?”

“Enzo!”

“That’s what I said. It looks like one of those life buoy thingies, you know for people who need saving?” his expression soured. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Yeah like I’ll take fashion advice from a guy literally stuck in the 90’s,” she pushed him away and turned as he laughed.

“Whatever, plaid’s eternal. You rocked that grunge look and I always look good no matter what.”

“Christ, I’m going. If I see you within five feet of me again I’ll set you on fire.”

She walked back into the bar, waiting with bated breath for him to follow but after a few minutes she looked back out to find a deserted street. He was gone.

*

After Damon died, Elena and Bonnie grieved. She had been content to let Kai rot. She had given him the cure and he could now walk around his prison world. It was a mercy. There was no way out without her, no one else knew he was there except for her inner circle of friends. As far as she was concerned the last time she ever saw him was at Damon’s death bed.

She should have known better.

*

A siphoner was a rare and dying breed. For all the name calling and shunning there was a lot of good that a witch with such an ability could do. The Original family had thought so and learning that the most powerful siphoner and previous coven leader was alive but trapped had done nothing but spur them into action.

The ascendant Bonnie kept tucked into her mattress had disappeared. Before going to bed at night she checked that spinning contraption and usually awoke most mornings with her fingers around it. It might have been her imagination but touching it caused her to sense Kai, to dream of him and that morning she woke with a very clear image:

Klaus Mikaelson treating Kai Parker to a gourmet meal on a lively New Orleans street.

He had stolen her blood and her prisoner.

*

She had turned up in New Orleans with only one purpose and that was to drag Kai Parker back into his cold February jail cell. Why the Mikealson’s wanted Kai could only be for nefarious purposes so she was likely doing the world a favour by thwarting their plans.

She had not counted on a little red headed girl meeting her at the bus station.

“Hi. My name’s Hope. I know why you’re here.”

Bonnie had smiled in bemusement, lowering her backpack. “You do?”

“You want Kai. He said you’d be coming,” she leaned forward and spoke quietly, cupping her mouth. “He never stops talking about you. Actually he never stops talking. He’s weird.”

Bonnie frowned at the girl as she offered her hand, looking around. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Yeah but it’s okay, I know my way back. Just don’t tell my mom and dad okay?”

“…Okay,” Bonnie, feeling deeply bewildered, took Hope Mikaelson’s hand and stiffened. The nine year old girl was immensely powerful, a true prodigy and the daughter of the oldest vampire in the world. Hope explained how Kai came into her life as they walked through the quarter.

“I was sick. This thing, this monster was attacking kids, witches like me. It was draining us and nothing could stop it because it was too powerful. It wasn’t alive so it couldn’t be killed, it exists outside this world…” she shuddered as they waited at a crossing. Bonnie watched the crowd for any sign of an Original or Kai. The little girl looked up at her. “I dreamed of you, of the spinning key you keep under your pillow.”

“The ascendant?”

“Right. I didn’t really know what it was, I just knew that it opened the door to the person that could save us. Auntie Freya did a location spell and got the key from you.”

“And she let Kai out,” Bonnie stopped at a street corner, shaking her head. “It wasn’t anyone’s to steal.”

Guilt flashed over the girl’s face but then she lifted her chin. “It’s not stealing if you give it back. It’s borrowing.”

Bonnie smiled despite herself. “I suppose that makes sense. Can I have it back?” she offered her hand but Hope shook her head.

“Kai has it.”

“Of course he does. You know he was in there for a reason? He’s not a good person.”

“People say that about my dad but they’re wrong. Mostly. Kai thinks you’ll never forgive him but I told him he should wait and see.”

“He said that?”

“No, he doesn’t have to. He’s all messed up inside, his dreams are terrible,” she said and from the haunted look in her eyes Bonnie assumed the poor girl had got a glimpse of them. Kai had endured 18 years of isolation and then years being tortured in hell. He had suffered but it was easier to believe he felt nothing.

“He has nightmares about me?” she gave a small smirk.

“No, you’re the good ones but they kinda hurt the most. I try not to absorb what other people feel but I can’t help it sometimes. I’m like a sponge.”

Bonnie nodded, feeling pity. The girl was young but there was a weight to her and not just because of the family she was born into. In the distance she felt a vibration, a witch approaching.

“Why is Kai here? What did he do?”

“He siphoned the monster and trapped it into his prison dimension. He siphoned me and other kids, healing so many of us. We’d be dead without him.”

“And your family is grateful,” Bonnie sighed, watching as Klaus Mikaelson approached with a witch, an intense man she did not know.

“You should take that off,” Hope said suddenly and Bonnie looked down. The girl was staring at the blood necklace. Bonnie griped it and smiled.

“Why? Do you think it’s ugly too? Maybe I should get a new setting for it.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s like there’s something tied to it. It’s pulling so hard. Can’t you feel it?”

Bonnie did not have time to answer as Klaus appeared. He exhaled with relief at the sight of Hope, who ran into his arms. Behind them Kai stood, hands in his pockets and after a pause gave Bonnie a sheepish wave.

*

Kai was treated with respect and gratitude. He was offered a place in New Orleans, a fresh start and support from a community of witches who did not know of his past, only the heroic deeds of his present. He was the man who saved their children and defeated the monster. Those who did know of his past had let it lie undisturbed. He was in the company of sinners seeking absolution, one she thought Kai never asked for. Still, he stayed.

She had to leave, if only to stop the vindictive pull that wanted to topple his happy little world. The Prison World was now home to some eldritch nightmare from the dawn of time, a thing that Kai had lovingly dubbed Pennywise.

“You can have the ascendant back if you want? I heard you kept it under your pillow.”

“Yeah, no. I can imagine the sweet dreams.”

Bonnie rolled her eyes as she sat back, her belly full. They were sat on a balcony overlooking the quarter. Wisteria grew along the railing, framing them. It was romantic but her companion uninvited. She had just wanted a nice meal alone with a glass of wine before she left. She had been in the city for three days and tomorrow she was leaving. She had met Kai only briefly, just to hear his part in the tale. It all seemed to correlate with what Hope and Klaus told her. She had made it clear she wanted nothing to do with Kai and while he seemed committed to starting afresh he could not let her leave without seeing her one last time.

“So you’re going back to Mystic Falls?”

“Not that it’s any of your business but no. I’ve got this house I need to sell.”

“The one in Upstate New York?” he asked, taking a sip of wine. Bonnie narrowed her eyes.

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh, well when I got out of hell I kinda followed you for a few days.”

“Like a creeper.”

“Yes, like a creeper,” he smirked at her before growing serious. “When the bell rang and a door out of hell appeared I saw Mystic Falls…I saw you.”

“Me?”

“You were wearing jogging clothes. You were driving passed the Grill. I went for it and ended up in there. Just missed you,” he held his thumb and index finger apart.

Bonnie snorted. “So you could have suddenly appeared in my car? I would have crashed.”

“Surprise! Smoking suit and everything,” he laughed and sighed. “After that I went to your house. Saw you with him. Elmo,” his jaw clenched and his eyes flicked to the blood necklace. “That’s super creepy you know that?” he said and she rolled her eyes, preparing to leave.

“Says the stalker. You know if you put a foot out of line I can rip down everything you have?”

“I’m sure you think I deserve it, despite what I’ve done here,” he said with a muted smile as she got to her feet.

“They think you’re a hero but I know the truth. You don’t do shit for anyone unless you get something out of it.”

“Right, sure, believe what you want.”

“I will,” she put her purse over her shoulder, standing there. She should walk away but his eyes fixed on hers kept her still. “You saved those kids because the alternative was going back to the prison world. You’d do anything to avoid that.”

He sat back, food forgotten. “You’re right I would do anything to avoid that. Can you, who actually knows what it’s like, blame me?” he asked, jaw clenching as he leaned forward. “We both know if I wanted to I could have disappeared the moment they got me out. You know why I didn’t?”

“No.”

“You.”

“What do I have to do with this?”

“Everything. You remember the last thing Damon said to me before he died?” he asked suddenly, making her blink.

“…He said that it was possible. I didn’t understand what he meant.” Damon, old and grey, had looked between her and Kai before they had left him to die with Elena. He had made a grudging sort of peace with the Gemini witch.

“He thought I could be redeemed by doing good, that it was possible to be forgiven. He was a fucking idiot thinking I ever wanted his. He got that at the end.”

Bonnie stared at Kai’s intense eyes, noting the tension in his shoulders and arms before she scoffed. “You want my forgiveness? Do I need to remind you what happened the last time you played that trick on me?”

Kai looked aside, nostrils flaring, before glaring at her. “I’m not looking for another knife in the back. It wasn’t a trick then and it’s not now. You never gave me a chance,” his hard gaze softened into regret.

“I don’t owe you anything. You want to prove yourself? Do it but don’t look to me for a reward,” she stepped back and he growled in frustration, getting to his feet.

“I don’t care about goody points Bonnie. I’ve been given so many chances, I should be dead right now but I’m here. You could have killed me but instead you stuck me in a prison world.”

Bonnie spun around. “Because you were the only one who could wake Elena!”

“Which I did! My purpose to you was spent, right? You could have destroyed the ascendant after that, made it impossible for anyone to get me out…but you didn’t. You couldn’t.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“You hold onto things Bonnie, you can’t let go and for some messed up reason I’m one of those things.”

Bonnie laughed, fingers touching the blood pendant. “I keep this because I loved him. I kept the ascendant because I hate you. Actually I don’t even feel that because that would be a waste of energy. You mean nothing to me.”

He shook his head. “If that were true you’d have forgotten about it. Whatever you feel it’s not indifference. Take it from a former sociopath,” he gave a weak half smile but it faded. Bonnie said nothing for some time, just continued to stare at him until he looked aside.

“I want this to be clear okay? I don’t like you. At all. Stay here, start a new life and if you honestly want to turn over a new leaf then do it…but don’t expect me to care. I’m leaving. We’re strangers from this point on. You no longer exist.”

Kai gazed at her, a penetrating, drinking stare that made her heartbeat race before he smirked and sat back down at the table. He picked up his knife and fork and continued eating, looking at his plate. Bonnie stood still until he looked back up, his eyebrows rising.

“Oh you’re still here? Wait can you even see me? I don’t exist so you better go ignore me over there. You’re kinda ruining your super serious moment.”

“Screw you.”

“Oops, talking to a person who’s not really here, not a good sign.”

“Choke on your $100 fillet,” she grumbled as she finally walked away.

“By Bonnie. See you soon.”

[flyswhumpcenter]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

RIP dividing lines, you were a gift I didn’t realize I deeply needed until this hellsite got rid of you. You’ll forever be missed.

I don’t really know why my brain decided that tonight I’d write Arc-V fanfiction in 2019 of all things, but it’s here, it’s weird, it’s shabby and it was fun. I’ve been obsessed with that one part of the first season so it was bound to happen lmao.  I hope you enjoy my take on local edge boi Shun.

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Dyspnea

Summary: It hurts to breathe, it hurts to move; but the lone soldier can only move on and sustain the pain, because nobody is here to support him through the hardships of war.

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Arc-V

Wordcount: 1.3K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Fucking hell did it hurt to even move.

 Once upon a time, what felt like forever ago, he’d have been able to endure that without pushing on his resources this badly. He’d have probably gotten an x-ray, would have been told to stay still for a while, and it’d have been just fine. Perhaps he’d have even gotten a small surgery to complete the process.

But this was then and now was now: he was alone, a stranger in a strange world, only able to rely on himself despite the dire situation he had found himself in.

 That Fusion bastard’s twisted face hadn’t been enough, apparently. Watching his fellow Raid Raptors, his only real companions when Ruri was gone and Yuto was nowhere to be found, get beheaded right in front of his then-trembling body, hearing their cries for help and Shiunin’s mad laughter resonate through the stone building, had only been a part of what seemed to be his punishment for what they called “extreme, excessive, desperate measures”. He didn’t know how to judge that himself: that was just how he did things, as effectively as possible without losing never-enough time to any bullshit like “trying to reason the enemy”. There was no reasoning to be had on the battlefield.

 It wasn’t just about public humiliation. He didn’t care for that: other people’s judgements were only a potential loss of time and thoughts. It also wasn’t simply a matter of honour: his had already gone into ashes when the invasion had begun, when he had let his own sister disappear from his sight never to be seen again. He had everything to plead forgiveness for aside from his ways and goals. But forgiveness was absent from the battlefield, so he was supposed to continue on without giving others much thought. Revenge was all that mattered. Revenge, revenge, revenge.

 No, instead, Shun had a much bigger issue to deal with right at this moment that wasn’t about judgement, the others, or his pride. The shockwave from his crushing defeat had made him exit the building in the least gracious way he could have gone through with that: flying out of there, then hurling down a flight of stairs, a bolt of pain hitting each and every time his chest hit the stone until there were no more steps to break his bones against.

 He didn’t escape the fall unscathed.

 He was used to getting a beating and getting up back from it. Bruises didn’t mean anything anymore as he didn’t let them hurt him for more than the moment he’d discover them. Cuts weren’t deeper than you wanted them to be. Injuries didn’t mean much if they didn’t carry any weight, any message to them, like scars whose story had been forgotten.

Yet, getting up from that had been arduous, if not unbearable. The shame wasn’t the only thing weighting on his shoulder and keeping his knees under a lock: there was the pain, the blinding, torturous, horrid pain shooting through his chest as soon as he attempted to get up and continue on. It was unlike anything he had suffered from before, even with all things considered and all mishaps that had happened taken in account.

 It hurt to do anything. It hurt to move, it hurt to think, it hurt to get up, it hurt to even breathe.

 And yet, all he could do was rise on his feet and flee. Run away and fight against other people for his sister’s freedom, his friend’s safety and his dimension’s honour. Like a soldier, he had to act without thinking of himself much, just execute the orders he knew were right. If he stopped moving to think, he’d feel his pain, he’d let his knees buckle under its force, he’d let himself be vulnerable; and he couldn’t let that happen in any circumstance. There was no hope, no salvation for the lone soldier that succumbed to his wounds.

So Shun kept pressing; or, at least, attempted to.

 It took him ages, painfully long seconds to even get up from his fall. The beating had been this harsh: he was unable to speak, unable to really breathe in or out, clutching his ribs in an attempt to control the dolour pulsing through them. There was this girl – maybe her name was Serena, or Hiiragi, he forgot to follow and his memories were stained by the pain – and she was trying to help him. He didn’t know why, he didn’t think twice: he took the hand and forgot he had done so right afterwards, preferring to see it as an act of survival rather than a doing of need for assistance.

He was alone, all alone, and he just had trusted someone because he couldn’t do otherwise. Pathetic.

 Running was difficult, more than he’d have ever anticipated. He was now certain he had broken his ribs, not just fractured them: they seemed to slightly move as he ran from that Fusion freak, pulses of pain ringing through his chest every time he took a step, walked or run, threatening to pierce his lung and make him lose all breathing altogether. He couldn’t let that happen to him, but did he have a solution aside from running away from imminent danger despite his injuries? No.

So he’d keep running until he ran out of air, until something would go horribly wrong; because things had already gone sour for him and all he had left was the slim hope that he’d get out of there, exhausted and suffering, but alive and able to still do something. He’d go to the end, he’d press on until he’d be dead; and if his demise was now, then so be it, because it seemed like things wouldn’t get any better from there.

 And yet, despite being a lone soldier with a heart of stone and lacking any polish, people had come to his aid.

 It had started with Serena (her name was Serena; he was surer of that now). For some reason outside of his mind, she had decided he’d be worth helping despite them being on opposite sides of the war (she was from Fusion, right? That freak had been surprised to see her bust out a Fusion Duel Disk). Was he grateful for her helping hand? He wished he could have said no, but he knew he was at least somewhat glad to have had that to get him out of there. Maybe “glad” wasn’t the right word.

Then there were this pair of ninja brothers, stopping Shiunin in his tracks and allowing Serena and him to continue fleeing from danger. They seemed to have mostly wanted to help her out, and he just happened to slow her down considerably (damn fractures…), even if he was starting to doubt this judgement. Maybe. When he’d have time to breathe, he’d consider revising it for more than a single afterthought, a little thing that had popped in his mind along the lines of “maybe they did pay attention to the other guy with her”. He didn’t have time of the day to do more than that.

 His ribs still hurt tremendously, if not more and more as time went on, when three masked soldiers corned the three of them in the Volcano Area. Yet, because it was only fair to do so, he swore he’d protect the one who had helped him out, putting a hand before Serena, fully intending to fight at full volume despite the difficulty to breathe and think entirely clear. He wouldn’t be able to call himself a last man standing for this battle, nor a lone soldier. Other casualties weren’t needed, so he’d make it quick, sharp and to-the-point. He’d defeat them all and avoid more victims to fall in their claws.

 It hurt to breathe; but perhaps it hurt less than watching people lose themselves to a war they didn’t comprehend.

[dynamic-ideation]

Spontaneous Combustion: A WestAllen Love at first sight AU

When a courageous, beautiful woman helps Barry save people from an explosion, he doesn't realize he's fallen in love with her until after she disappears. When he finally finds her, she turns his world upside down...

For my love @dasakuryo please stay awesome forever! Love you! ❤❤❤

It was dark outside. At least, it was until the oil tanker exploded, sending up a blinding pyre of light fifty feet into the sky. Subsequent cars collided into each other, crashing and banging trying to avoid the fireball in the middle of the interstate, building into a twisted heap of metal that left dozens trapped and screaming in pain. Those who were uninjured scattered, leaving their cars haphazardly abandoned across the traffic lanes.

The Flash was there only moments later, ushering people away from the fray. He cleared bystanders from the scene and ducked in to see who he could save. Luckily, the truck’s driver had gotten far away before the explosion, or he would have been no more than kindling for the flame.

There was a woman. She was calling out orders -get back at least one hundred yards, help the elderly woman out of the Volvo, don’t breathe in the smoke- in an authoritative but somehow gentle way. She ushered people to safety. She was going back in towards the blaze, putting her own safety at risk. Barry wanted to tell her not to do that, to leave it to him and wait for the police, but he heard screaming coming from a minivan within a few short feet of the blaze and knew he had to get that family out of there.

Shrill sirens let him know the fire department had arrived, setting up a perimeter and rounding up the injured and traumatized. Instead of running to them, the woman was back, her beautiful face covered in ash, her perfect hair smelling of oil smoke. She stood in awe of him as he deposited a toddler in her arms, before coming back with the mother, who was holding an infant. All saved from the minivan, but still not safe.

“Get them out of here, go!” He told her. She didn’t hesitate for a second before hustling them out of harm’s way, over to where paramedics were waiting with life-giving medicine. In the back of his mind Barry admired her bravery, even if it was foolhardy and liable to get her killed.

As he did one last sweep and found no one, he wondered if the woman finally had enough and decided to stay back, possibly to collapse on a stretcher somewhere, felled by sheer exhaustion.

Nope. There she was again, running from car to car, checking for signs of life. Her green jacket was singed. Her jeans were torn and covered in mud and soot. One of her chunky heels was broken, so she wasn’t running so much as hobbling. She was completely crazy. God, she’s sexy.

There was a deep, slow groan behind them, like the awakening of a giant at sunrise. It seemed impossible, but the hellish flames got even hotter.

“We gotta go!” He took her legs out from under her, bridal style.

“You sure know how to sweep a girl off her feet,” she panted, grinning wide through the grime on her lovely face. For Barry, it was like the stars had come out. That very moment, the fire erupted into a massive explosion, lifting them up in the air and dumping them in a roadside ditch. Even Barry’s speed hadn’t been fast enough to escape every effect of the blast. Flames bellowed over their heads, scorching every inch of level land within three hundred feet. They came to understand what it was like to be broiled like a hamburger. Still, they survived, wrapped tight around each other. Finally, the sky was dark and cool again.

“I also know how to go out with a bang.” He gave her an exaggerated wink. They burst out laughing.

“Who are you?” She queried, arms still wrapped around his neck. Her eyes searched his, dancing back and forth between the left and the right. Her face was only inches from his, and her stare was intense…he remembered to blur his face and yet she was still boring into his soul with her eyes; he was telling her all of his secrets. Her soft fingers moved to touch his lips, tease at the seams of his mask. He stopped buzzing, held still, let her touch his skin. The prolonged eye contact sparked something in him- a feeling, a sensation- one of animal lust but also something greater, something more. He could have spent forever holding her, could have exposed himself to her, surrendered to this mysterious woman who’d come hell bent on saving people, even with no superpowers and a foot shorter than him. Her lips…they were so close…

Barry recovered. “You’re not supposed to ask masked vigilantes who they are.”

“Says who?”

“Says the masked vigilante.”

“Inquiring minds would like to know.” She hadn’t given up on tracing the lines of his face, and it was making him weak.

“You mean you.”

“Of course, me. But plenty of other people,” her face softened a bit, “all the people you’ve saved. Now I’m in the club.”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you didn’t insist on putting yourself in danger, Miss…?”

Her name. What was her name?

“Barry, we’ve got a situation-“ Cisco’s voice broke out over his com.

“Alright,” he snapped, suddenly irritated.

“Nice work out there today. It’s safe now. You need to get treated. Rest.”

“Get treated-?” Before she could get the entire sentence out, they were moving.

Oh!” She made a surprised sound when, a millisecond later, she was sitting in the back of an ambulance; cup of water in hand, oxygen tank at the ready, pillow fluffed on the gurney. Reluctantly, he wrapped a blanket around her slim shoulders and smoothed his palms down her arms. “Get better, alright? No more heroics until after you’ve rested up. Stay out of trouble.”

“I can’t make any promises, Flash.” Her expression was so erotic he blushed red as his suit.

“Gotta run.”

“Wait-“ he heard her start as he disappeared into the night, off to save more lives.

She sat breathless with the wonder of it all. He ran, and the farther away he got, the deeper his regret grew.

He just had to know who she was. When he woke up the next day, she was on his mind. As a matter of fact, she occupied his every waking thought with her movie-star smile, her bravery, her soft fingertips. He mentally relived their conversation over and over, surprised by the intensity of the feelings coursing through him. He wanted to ask for her name, but hadn’t had time to get it. Who was she?

Barry looked for her, far and wide. Luckily, as a CSI by day, he knew where to start. He checked surveillance cameras, but they had no clear shots of her face. She never gave her name to the medics, refused their recommendations to let them take her to the hospital. Barry laughed bitterly. Stubborn. Of course she was.

“She looked real familiar, though,” the paramedic who’d treated her said. “I can’t place her, but I know I’ve seen that face before.” That wasn’t of much help to him. None of the others knew her name. The establishments near the incident, where she may have stopped for food or a drink, didn’t find her to be familiar.

He kept asking, in his best CCPD voice, questions about that night. Asked people if they’ve seen that particular woman. 5’3” to 5’5”, African-American, petite build, shoulder length dark hair, green jacket, blue jeans. There was nothing.  

A few weeks had gone by, and her trail had gone cold. Barry had nothing else to go on. He finally let go of his last shred of hope, and a surprising misery overtook him. What’s wrong with you, Barry? You’re losing it. You don’t even know her. Never will.    

The cold, sterile metal of Star Labs surrounded him in too many straight lines and right angles, and the robotic, surgical surroundings seemed appropriate for how he was feeling. He set his elbows on his knees and hung his head.

“Hey Barry, they’re talking about you.” Cisco turned the volume up on the news and Barry heard a familiar voice; an angel speaking down from the clouds.

“…Once again, the people of Central City have The Flash to thank.” Barry turned slowly and saw that face. That perfect face, even more beautiful uncovered from layers of soot and grime.

Iris West. Iris. She was…she was the one who wrote about him. “Iris,” he said out loud.

“Yeah, Iris West. She’s hot right?” Cisco smiled huge and stuck a twizzler in his mouth.

“Yeah…she’s…That’s her.”

“Her? Wait, the one you saved? The one you’ve been looking for?” Caitlin asked.

The one I’ve been looking for. The one.

“Dude, the woman you’ve been looking for all this time is Iris West? Didn’t she get her start by blogging about you? That’s cray.” That’s why she looked familiar to the paramedic. “So what are you gonna do, Man? You gotta talk to her.”

Like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him, Barry froze solid. “Shit,” he said out loud. He was so busy trying to find her, he hadn't really thought about how he would approach her. How the hell was he gonna do that?

“I can’t.”

Cisco and Caitlin both launched into protests at the same time.

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t’-“

“All you’ve been doing is talking about this super hot bravery girl-“

“-All you’ve been doing is pining and moping-“

“-and you finally find her and you’re all chickenshit? that makes no sense, Man-“

“ -if you don’t talk to her we’ll never hear the end of it-“

“I have not been moping and pining,” was Barry’s clever retort.

They both threw up their hands, moaning in exasperation.

“She liked The Flash,” he said quietly. “He’s confident and strong. He’s a hero. What if she doesn’t like nerdy, awkward Barry Allen?”

Cisco and Caitlin both deflated. Then they leveled with him.

“Barry,” Caitlin said, fixing him with a knowing look. “If she feels anything at all for The Flash, she’ll feel something for you. The Flash is simply an extension of who Barry Allen is. Show her all of you, and you can’t miss. You think this-” she waved her hand at the TV screen, “ you think this is a coincidence? Even scientists know the universe doesn’t work that way.”

“Yeah, Dude. You’re an awesome guy. If she’s as awesome as you think she is, you’re good to go. Besides, do you really think you could live with yourself if you didn’t find out?”

“You’re right. I can’t live my life not knowing. For better or for worse, I have to find out.”

Caitlin placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We certainly won’t be able to live with you if you don’t find out.” Her smile was reassuring. Barry chuckled. They were right. Of course they were.

“Okay, I’m gonna do this. You guys will be the first to know how it goes.”

“Yes!”

“Alright!” They whooped and clapped and high-fived him. He mentally prepared for what could be one of the biggest moments of his life.

So this was Central City Picture News. It was about as intense as one would expect; people shouting and running around, papers flying everywhere. The receptionist told him how to find her, and he went looking, wringing his long, thin hands, almost hoping she wouldn’t be there so he could save himself the inevitable humiliation.

There she is. He saw her and could barely contain all the emotions welling up in him. It  was like standing on a bungee platform completely untethered and the bottom just dropped out, but he was ready to fall.

He’d always been a bashful person, but he took it to a new level today. He silently willed himself to get his shit together. He needed her to be impressed by his masculinity and regal bearing.

“Hi, I’m uh, I’m…”

“Barry Allen?”

“Yep, that’s it. It’s me, Barry Allen. That’s my name.” So much for keeping it cool. His skin flushed, and it got worse when she gave him a look that was one part confusion and one part amusement. But her smile was warm and understanding.

“Iris West.” She held her delicate hand out. That hand helped him save children a few weeks ago. He reached to take it, and a spark jumped from his hand to hers.

“Ow!” She exclaimed, and hopped back.

“Shit, I’m sorry- I mean, darn it, I didn’t mean to swear, I’m sorry about that-“ he backed right into a desk and a stack of papers went straight to the floor, some floating, some slicing through the air, landing any and everywhere.

Barry was horrified, naturally.

“Oh no, oh no. This isn’t good.” He dropped down to gingerly gather the pages, careful not to crumple or stain them. Iris was on her knees, in her blue pencil skirt, sweeping pages into a pile. She looked up at him and just laughed, lips back and mouth wide, clearly amused by his clumsiness. Maybe even charmed?

“Please don’t stress about it. Most of this stuff is on its way to recycling anyway.” He smiled then, feeling better seeing the joy in her face.

When the pile had been reassembled, they stood again.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Allen?” The smile she gave him was radiant.

“It’s Barry. Please.”

“Barry. What can I do for you?”

“I, um, wanted to talk to you about The Flash.”

“Is that right?” Her eyes lit up like torches. “Please, come with me.”

Holy shit, she’s hot. Like, cover-of-a-magazine hot. He couldn’t help but to stare at her perfect ass as he trailed her to a conference room.

“So, Barry.”

“Hmm?” He hummed, eyes jerking up to meet hers, wondering if she caught him red-handed.

“What can you tell me about him? I know an awful lot, as you may know. I got my start studying him.” She leaned in to whisper. “I helped him out once, but don’t tell anybody, it’s a big secret.” It was no such thing, of course. Her exposé on her part of the rescue had been front-page news, but at the time there were no pictures of her there, so he couldn’t have matched her name to her face. He blushed scarlet.

“I, um, I had a run-in with him-“

“Did you? Tell me all about it.”

“Well,” Barry lied, “ I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I got mugged, and I thought I was going to get everything taken, and maybe the guy was going to hurt me, but the Flash was there. He saved me. I was in the middle of a panic attack and he talked to me to calm me down. He told me things.” The story was one hundred percent true; he had saved a guy who was hyperventilating as a result of a mugging, and talked to the guy in a casual voice about a whole lot of boring stuff in order to calm him down.

“He told me that he used to have problems with asthma and panic attacks just like me, until the particle accelerator explosion. He said he was awkward and uncoordinated, couldn’t run a full block without passing out. He made me laugh. I started to feel better.”

“That was so sweet of him to humanize himself with you. He never ceases to amaze me. I wonder about who he is, and who he was before, all the time.”

I want you to know, Barry thought.

Animatedly, she waved her tiny hands around. “What else can you tell me? What did he sound like? What did he look like? How tall was he? Did you get an eye color?” She leaned in.

“Um, he’s pretty tall.”

“As tall as you? You’re really tall.”

“Um, no, he might be a couple inches taller.”

“Hmm, that narrows it down a bit. Guys six-four or six-five and over are less common.”

“Or maybe he was an inch shorter, I don’t know. Don’t take my description to heart, he didn’t want me to see his face or identify much about him. I think his eyes are brown, though.” Smooth, Barry.

“I might be able to think of a few more details, if you give me a minute to think. Can I treat you to a cup of coffee, and we talk about it?”

“That sounds great. I used to work at this coffee shop called Jitters, right down the block. We can walk and talk. How does that sound?”

Over a non-fat mocha Iris told him, in great detail, about the oil tanker explosion from her point of view. “He saved me that day. And I definitely wasn't making it easy for him.”

“Sure the hell wasn’t,” Barry muttered under his breath.

“Im sorry?”

“Oh, nothing. I didn’t say anything. Go on.”

“He’s not just any hero, he’s my hero. I need to find out who he is, to thank him.” Barry scratched the back of his neck, fighting the surge of pride and shyness that welled up in him.

“I think he knows how grateful you are.”

“I hope so. I hope he likes my blog.”

“He does. It boosts his ego.”

“How do you know?”

“Just, as a guy I can tell you it makes him feel good, even if he doesn’t like you placing yourself in danger.” Barry looked at her meaningfully, willing her to understand.

“He’s out of luck, because I’m a journalist and throwing myself into dangerous situations isn't going to change any time soon.” Barry wasn’t surprised. The subject strayed away from The Flash but it always stopped before it could get too far and trotted back, like puppy on a leash. Iris was riveting, and Barry wanted to know everything about her.

“I could go for something a little bit more substantial. There’s a great Thai place around the corner. My treat.”

“Okay, Mr. Allen. I’m all about chicken satay.” They spent the golden afternoon eating green curry across from a pretty park, people-watching and discussing their upbringings. The conversation flowed like they’d known each other since childhood. Instead of running out of things to talk about, they found themselves stumbling over each other to blurt out the stories they wanted to share. Hours had passed, and they needed to free up the table for the next patrons. The check was paid (by Barry, of course) and Iris was standing up, gathering her things.

Barry blurted, “Ice cream.” She looked at him from beneath feathered lashes and tried to hold back her smile. She had finally figured out what he was doing.

“Let me just call down to the office and let them know I’m chasing down a hot lead.” She winked. “I can’t quite put my finger on it, but my newest source is charming and magnetic, if in an offbeat sort of way. I need more time with him.” Barry tried not to melt into the ground while he waiting for her to make her phone call.

Iris looped her arm through Barry’s as they crossed the street towards the gelato shop. The patch of skin at the crook of his elbow tingled where it met with hers. Such a small thing, but such a huge thing.

“I’m totally blowing off work, but it’s such a beautiful afternoon with such good company.” Barry grinned so wide it hurt his face. With their chocolate gelato in hand they strolled arm-in-arm through the nearby zoo. Barry watched Iris make silly faces at the monkeys and aww over the spindly-legged newborn baby zebra. She’s perfect, a voice in the back of his consciousness kept chanting. He was too busy enjoying her to tell it to shut up.

Their conversation continued to flow effortlessly, and they gradually edged towards deeper and more personal subjects.

He confided in her about his mother, and they talked a bit about their unfortunate commonality.

"So I'm essentially an orphan who's grown up on his own. I don't really have any other family, so my friends and coworkers became my family.”

"You must hear this all the time when you confide in people about your mother, but I'm truly sorry for your loss. I'm also sorry about your father being falsely convicted. I can't imagine.”

"Don't be sorry,” he said with a soft smile. "Life is tough. It's not easy, but I deal with it and I'm determined to be happy no matter what. I think the real good times in life are being able to do stuff like this, hang out with TV star reporters and eat gelato and make faces at monkeys.” He gently nudged her with his shoulder. She nudged back.

“Unfortunately, I know all too well what it’s like to lose your mom at a young age. Cervical cancer. I was seven years old.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, too.”  

“I wish we didn’t have to have this in common.”

“Same here.”

“How ‘bout this. We play a little game. Tell me one positive memory you have of your mom, then I’ll tell you one about mine. Go.”

“My mom used to read me my favorite book every night before I went to sleep. Sometimes several times. It was called “The Runaway Dinosaur”. Just thinking about the way she would read it and call me her beautiful boy, I always knew how much I was loved.”

“Up until the day she died, even though I was ‘too big’ for it, my mom always held my hand. She would let me sit in her lap, and she would even carry me on her hip, even when I got to be huge…well, I’ve never been huge, obviously. Sometimes I would get teased by other kids about it. Sometimes I heard adults whisper to her that maybe it was past the time to be coddling me like that. What they didn’t understand was, I was an affectionate kid. I was independent, I was developing the way I should have been, physically, emotionally, all of the above, but I just needed that closeness. My mom understood my needs as her child, and she made sure my needs were met. It was a part of my personality and that’s never changed. I miss that. I’m grateful for the memories, though.”

“Oh, here’s another one. My mom brushing my hair. It can be traumatic for little black girls, especially when you’re tender-headed like me-“

“Tender-headed?” Barry asked slowly, completely confused. Iris slapped her knee as she laughed.

“That’s a subject for another day, Bear.” Barry nodded, confused, but went with the program. Plus, he liked her calling him “Bear.”

“I used to hear all these horror stories, but my mom was always patient, alway gentle. We would sit and watch our favorite shows and just laugh. Afterwards she’d hug me and tell me I was her pretty princess. I knew how much I was loved, too.” They grinned at each other. “Your turn again. Go.”

“There was this perfume my mom used to wear, some rare stuff with a foreign name that my dad bought her. Maggiotto? Mattineta? Something like that. I don’t think they even make the stuff anymore. I loved it though. was one of those things that just kinda made Mom ‘Mom’, you know? Sometimes, when I open a box of her things, her perfume is there, just for a second, and I feel like she’s with me.” The rumble of thunder interrupted Iris’ reply. It started to rain on them out of nowhere, a spring shower coming down with the afternoon sunshine.

“My hair!” Iris wailed. She grabbed Barry’s hand and they ran for the cover of the trees. They were damp and giggling by the time they got there, and the trees offered scant shelter from the rain; cool droplets pooled on the leaves and broke on their faces every time a strong wind came up.

“So much for my fresh blow-out. I’m gonna look like a gremlin in a few minutes.”

Barry opened his mouth to ask but thought better of it. One day maybe she would teach him about all the hair stuff.

“You’ll still look…beautiful.” He worked hard to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

“Oh, stop it, you flatterer.” She clearly didn’t grasp the gravity of his statement.

“No, I mean it, Iris.” She looked at him and saw the sincerity.

“You do mean that. Thank you.” Suddenly she needed to examine something very important going on around her toes. She tucked a few strands of her damp mane behind her ear, shuffling her feet. In that moment, as scared as he was, Barry couldn’t resist.

“I’m going to do something really corny.”

Barry cupped Iris’ face gently in his hands. He tilted his head slightly to the right, leaned down closer to her height and kissed her. Gently, tentatively, almost reverently.

“You’re right,” She gasped. She was completely breathless. “That was corny. But I’m really glad you did it.”

She brushed her fingers against his, bashful. He brushed back, even more bashful. She stretched her fingers out and tangled them up in his. He closed his fingers around hers. He couldn’t let her go.

“Well, I’ve had you out all day, I’ve made you miss work and everything, I feel like I owe you dinner.” He was on a roll, no way he was gonna stop now. He waited with baited breath for her response. His heart dropped a bit when she shrugged and sighed.

“I don’t know, Barry…I can’t go looking like this.”

He tried and failed to curb his enthusiasm. He fist pumped shamelessly, making Iris giggle.

“You can wear a pinstripe potato sack for all I care. You’ll still look amazing.” He settled his hands on her hips, pulling her in to him. Iris’ hands clutched the back of his neck as he leaned down for another kiss. This time it was deeper, longer. This time he was confident. This time he was hungry for the taste of her lips, and high on the notion of seeing her again.

The couple of hours they’d been separated seemed like weeks. When Barry saw Iris again, she was wearing a blue minidress with black pumps.

“You look…whoa.”

“I take it that’s a good thing.”

“Absolutely.” He presented her with a single red rose.

“Barry, it’s beautiful.”

“Like you. I can't believe I’m on a date with you. I’m the luckiest guy in Central City.” He got another kiss for that.

He held the door for her and pulled out her chair. The restaurant was well out of his price range, but he didn’t care. The most important thing was showing Iris West how he felt, and he would do whatever he had to.

With anyone else, the conversation would be sputtering, maybe dying. Not with Iris. New subjects to talk about cropped up so fast they couldn’t keep up. Barry felt so comfortable that he launched into an explanation of his master’s thesis on particle physics. Iris tilted her head and gave him a confused puppy look, which was adorable but usually when he starting talking about this stuff, his dates went downhill fast.

“I’m sorry. I went full nerd there.”

“Don’t be, I like it. It’s cute. I wouldn’t want to hang around you if I couldn’t learn something. Maybe you could just, talk a little bit slower.” She held her thumb and forefinger together like a pinch.

“Speed…has always been my problem.”

“Soooooo, I grabbed you something. I hope you don’t think this is weird or too forward…” She pulled out a small, plain white plastic bag.

“You got me something?” Barry was touched. She shouldn’t have done that. It should be him giving her things. He should be giving her all the things.

He opened up the bag and found perfume.

“Um, you shouldn’t have?”

Giggling, she said, “Sniff it, Silly.”

He did, and feeling that hit him was so strong it nearly knocked him out of his seat.

Mom.

Suddenly Barry’s chest was tight, and a knot stuck in his throat. Although his grief overpowered him for a moment, the connection he felt with his mother was worth every one of his worldly possessions. He wanted to be surrounded by this scent. He wanted to live in it.

“How did you- where-?”

“After what you told me, the name suddenly came to me. It’s called Mogliettina, it means ‘little wife’ or ‘wifey’ in Italian. Your Dad really loved your mom. It’s not as popular as it used to be, but it’s still around and I just stopped by a specialty place that carries rare scents.”

Barry tried to hold back tears. Iris looked uncomfortable, apologetic. “I didn’t mean for you to wear it, of course. But you can keep it for whenever you want, or put it on a piece of her clothing maybe, if you have that…I…I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no…it’s not that…” He was not sure anyone had ever done anything so thoughtful for him. What had he done to deserve such a special woman coming into his life? She came in like a whirlwind, and after only a few hours he was’t sure how he would ever live without her.

Cisco picked that exact moment to call. He called, and called, and wouldn’t stop calling. "Not now, Cisco. Anytime but now,” Barry begged, “I’m on a date with my dream girl.” Maybe my future wife. Cisco wouldn’t stop calling. It had to be big. Barry excused himself to take the call.

“Dude,” Barry hissed into the phone.

“Aw man, I can’t tell you how much I hate to do this you, but there’s a meta on the rampage. It’s taking down buildings.” Barry massaged his temples. Why today? Why did he have to be the one to save the city? Why couldn’t he just enjoy one day, one day as a normal person, wooing the potential love of his life?

A moment later he settled back into his seat. The smile faded from Iris’ face when she saw his expression.

“Iris,” He began.

“What is it?” She asked, but she already knew.

“I have to go.”

“I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

“Something came up, and-“

“Something? Aren’t you even going to tell me what it is?”

“I can’t. I wish I could, more than anything I wish I could.” She sat back in her seat, her hands folding in her lap. She seemed to shrink before his eyes. “Iris, I’m sorry. I can’t even tell you how sorry I really am. I’ll make it up to you. Okay? Please let me make it up to you.”

The look on her face as he turned away from her was not happy. She didn’t look angry with him, rather, she looked so hurt. And disappointed. And sheepish. Crestfallen, like she’d been punched in the stomach. It made Barry physically sick. He would rather she be angry with him. He’d rather she was shouting, throwing a drink in his face and marching out in a rage. Barry pulled too much money out of his wallet and tossed the bills on the table, not even bothering to count it.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Iris, I promise.” She wouldn’t look at him. She only stared into the distance. As he hurried out of the door, the last glimpse of her was of her slowly sipping her wine, as red as her lips, wiping the tear before it slid down her cheek.

Iris wasn’t sure what to do. She was hurt, maybe more than she’d ever been. She dabbed at her eyes miserably with a piece of shredded tissue from the bottom of her purse. “Good job, Stalker. Way to go out on a limb.” She chastised herself all the way home. She liked that guy. She really, really liked that guy. She thought he liked her too, but obviously she was wrong.

Fuck it. She got into her baggiest pajamas, put on her fuzziest socks, pulled the entire tub of chocolate chip caramel ice cream out of the freezer, and cranked up her Netflix account. It was gonna be a long night.

“He should feel lucky I even gave him the time of day,” she moped. “He would have been lucky to get with a girl like me. I’m attractive, I’m smart, I’ve got a great job-“ No sooner had she gotten settled than she felt vibrations in her pocket. Her phone lit up like a Christmas tree. Breaking news. The Flash had been seen fighting…something. Iris shot off the couch.

Get your head in the game, Flash, he told himself as he barely escaped impalation on a giant root that shot out of the ground like a tremor. This meta was proving more difficult to stop than he had originally anticipated, and he wondered if his preoccupation with his disaster of a dinner with his dream girl was the majority of the problem.

The meta, who Cisco was calling “The Ent”, at least for now, made some ungodly sound at him and lunged with a vine from one of his branches. He was huge; a regular guy by day (although he was an unfortunate shade of permanent forest green), but when he wanted he grew to the size of a California Redwood, complete with branches like arms, vines like giant whips, and roots that could tunnel through the ground at frightening speed. He’d already torn down a few buildings and all Barry had been able to do so far was dodge all his limbs. He needed to penetrate his defenses if he was going to bring the guy down, but so far no luck. He was getting frustrated, but Iris’ gift, and the thought of getting back to her, spurred him on.

You have to beat this guy if you want a chance to make it up to her. Focus, Flash, he thought as he just barely missed getting pummeled by a rolling log. Amidst the retreating screams of Central City citizens he heard a voice that stuck out, and it was getting louder. It was awfully familiar. Barry dared a glance in that direction. He saw her in the distance, running. Right towards The Ent. Is she crazy??? Is she…wearing pajamas?

“Heeeyyyy!” Iris yelled, waving her arms. “You get away from him!”

The meta’s wooden green face said, She’s a lunatic. Then his eyes lit up and he looked slyly at Barry. He could see the instant The Ent made up in his mind to go after her. There was just no way he would allow that to happen.

The distraction was just what he needed. Barry accelerated at a speed he’d never been able to reach before. He barreled in, past the nets of leaves and coiled vines and heavy branches, to the vulnerable heart of the metahuman tree. A series of lightning-fast punches to his face and body and the meta was subdued, slumping over, hanging in a hammock of his own vines. His body began to slowly return to its human form, roots extracting themselves from deep beneath the rutted black asphalt, branches from shattered windows and twisted office furniture. The Ent fell into the shredded pavement, surrounded by the destruction he’d wrought. The police swooped in to arrest and contain him.

Iris kept running, straight into The Flash’s waiting arms. Her chest was heaving and her hair was all over the place, and she’d never been more stunning. Feeling her there again, he wondered how he’d even been able to tear himself away. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“It’s an honor! Besides, I had a nightmare date with this asshole tonight. Let’s just say that I really needed to get out of the house.”

In the blink of an eye he rushed her to a secluded corner in the far part of a ruined building. His gloved hands gently traced over her face and through her hair as he took a step closer towards her, bringing their bodies flush against each other. He towered over her, tilting her chin up to look her in the eye and make her understand how much he regretting abandoning her.

“I know the date didn’t go as planned in the end, but what if the asshole said he got called away for something important and was really, really, sorry?”

“Excuse me?” He pulled his mask off.

“Barry?! You’re The Flash? But how-? When-? It was you, that night. It was you, today!” She slapped his arm. Then she slapped it twice more.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You came down to CCPN claiming you wanted to tell me about The Flash when you really just wanted to flirt with me. You’re SO busted!”

Barry laughed a full belly laugh. “Guilty as charged. It was beyond worth it.”

Her arms belonged around his shoulders, so that’s where he put them. His hands belonged on her waist, so he put them there.

“Iris, please, would you give me another chance? No interruptions this time, just me and you.”

“Of course I will, Barry. Flash.” They kissed, and he experienced something he’d never felt, an emotional deep as a well, love and hope rising up from below like fresh, live-giving water.

This time, dinner went off without a hitch. Barry wasn’t sure if Cisco called him at all, and he didn’t want to know. The world could save itself tonight, or burn down around him. It didn’t matter, because he was with Iris West.

They took a walk after, hand in hand, back through the zoo where they’d shared their first kiss only hours before. They ended up in the park across from the little Thai place, where they had their first lunch. Barry led Iris to the park’s gazebo, strung up with lights, casting a soft glow on the inside.

“Hey Dave, now would be good.” A man stood up from where he’d been covertly sitting, a saxophone strapped around his shoulder. He starting playing and Barry put his free hand about Iris’ waist, pulling her in. They swayed to the music, staring into each others’ starry eyes, drinking in the moment.

“Oh my God, Barry, is he playing Kenny G?”

“Too corny?” He asked with a wince.

“No. It’s perfectly romantic and I love it.” She traced a thumb across his lip, then wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Barry couldn’t hold back.

“I need to tell you something.”

“What is it, Bear?”

“Iris, I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. I feel like, if I never saw you again, I would be incomplete. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to say anything, I guess I just couldn’t keep it in. You already know my biggest secrets. I know I sound like a complete lunatic, I know that, but we both know that the impossible happens every day. I’m in love with you, Iris West.”

Iris was stunned still. She stopped dancing and gaped at Barry. She opened her mouth to reply. Nothing came out. On the verge of panic, Barry was trying to thin of something to say until Iris finally found her voice again, although barely more than a whisper.

“Barry, my heart has been so full because of you. I’ve been running from it, denying it, but it’s love. Because this is what love feels like. I’m in love with you, too.”

They spent the next forty-eight hours glued to each others’ side, their conversation non-stop as they ate, worked, relaxed, and adventured as one cohesive unit. On the third day-although they planned to wait-they made love. The clouds threw shadows over them through fogged window panes as they rolled in Barry’s bed. Their soundtrack was the cadence of the rain against the window, and they went slow, building until they hit their peak. Their hearts beat out of their chests, and their bodies were drenched, and they were exhausted and sore and sated.

Just when Barry’s breath began to slow, his heart quickened. “I want you to marry me.”

“What?” Iris’ voice trembled.

“Oh no, I shouldn’t have said that. You probably think I’m totally nuts. Look, I…I’m sorry…I-“

“Yes.” Her voice was soft, but powerful as the storm.

“What did you say?”

“I can’t explain it, how I felt when you rescued me. I can’t explain it, how I felt when we spent the day together.” She propped herself up on her elbow. “Okay, prepare yourself for the monologue. You ready?”

“Ready.” Barry could barely see her his smile was so wide.

“When you came in the office I thought, hey, he’s hot. Then you started talking and I thought, oh boy, awkward too. And I knew I would like you. After coffee I wanted to know more about you. After lunch I was imagining what it would be like to be with you. After the kiss I was imagining getting you in bed. And during dinner I was thinking…what if I found the man I’m going to marry?

“When you left I thought, maybe you didn’t like me after all. I spent half the night trying to figure out what I did to make you change your mind.” She wrung her hands together. “I felt like such an idiot for letting myself feel that much. I swore I’d never do it again.” Barry opened his mouth to apologize again, but Iris held up and hand and stopped him.

“Then to find out you’re a hero that I’ve always admired? I gotta say, it makes me feel pretty relieved that the only reason you ran out on our marathon date was to save the city. I don’t know, maybe this is all wrong…but what if everything’s right? How could I be with anyone else? I would always come back to you. It will always be you.”

Iris took a deep breath, inhaling slowly and holding it for a few seconds, before letting it out in a whoosh. “So yes, I will marry you, Barry Allen.”

They spent the next full five minutes kissing softly, feather-light and soul-deep, until Iris made him pause with a hand to his chest.

“I already know what I want my ring to look like. I’ll show you the design so you can get it. I’m not gonna be telling people I’m engaged if I don’t have the ring to prove it.” She chattered excitedly. Barry laughed at how adorable his future wife was. If he was any happier, he would shatter.

“Of course. Whatever you want, I’m here to give it to you.”

“And I’m gonna want to hyphenate.”

“Of course, Mrs.West-Allen.”

Somehow they found the energy to go another round.