#i feel like most of his great wet weather rides are like that... he really needs to work his way into a race. you learn to appreciate it!!

[batsplat]

watched donington 2005 bc of your rec and loved it! do you have any more recs for interesting (and/or messy) wet races?

sure do! we're going to take a broad definition of 'wet' race here... there's also been some major rule changes this century, like bike swaps didn't used to be a thing - plus I'm not particularly inclined to check how each race was actually categorised. so for our purposes here, any race where I remember the track being wet playing a significant role counts

in honour of being incredibly inconsistent with the asterisk system, this time I've added * or ** by how much of a definite recommend it is as a wet race (also to be complete I'll include donington '05)

donington 2000*: valentino's first premier class win and a very valentino way to do it. absolute horror show of a start that drops him to thirteenth on lap one, and he picks his way through from there on the damp track. lovely little comeback ride as they wobble around - crucially at a time when vale did not have a good reputation as a wet weather racer. fun 3-way fight for the win

suzuka 2002**: the first ever motogp race in nasty nasty conditions, and features an unexpected starring performance from japanese wild card rider akira ryo who was very familiar with the track and where all the puddles were. valentino sticks behind him for much of this race, watching and learning. showcases valentino's approach rather nicely

le mans 2003: this one isn't wet for most of the race, and when it starts raining the race is interrupted. that being said, the sete/valentino duel in slippery conditions after the race resumes is fun and fiddly enough to justify its inclusion. banger of a last lap

mugello 2004: same as above - interrupted a few laps before the end for rain. the conditions are very uncertain when they resume, and the last few laps involves a multi-rider scrap between riders on slicks on a track that is very much not dry. fantastic race

shanghai 2005: conditions proper nasty start to finish, crazy amounts of spray. vale does the thing where he gives himself a bit of work to do and is 6th at some point during the first lap, though he's soon up to 2nd and goes about hunting down kenny roberts jr. in the end he disappears out front, so it's up to everyone else to make it exciting (mostly by struggling to stay on track)

donington 2005**: this one's a go-to pick for a reason. horrendous conditions, high attrition rate, lairy saves, a tense fight for the lead before valentino eventually feels comfortable enough to pull a painful margin on the field. classic race all round

phillip island 2006*: first ever bike swap race! late in the season so it's all very dramatic with the title fight - you've still got several different contenders at this stage with constantly changing fortunes. drama up and down the field until the very very end

donington 2007**: proper wet race and exactly what you want from these things, with the run order constantly chopping and changing. the winning rider spends a lot of time in a lot of different positions, great ride to fight his way through

sachsenring 2008: dani's leading the championship, vale crashed the last time out at assen before recovering to 11th, casey's won the last two races... all three of them have very different races in the full wet conditions. incidentally the last race before laguna

indy 2008*: proper fun scrap in appalling conditions! the usual suspects and also some more unusual suspects (that year anyway) scrapping it out at the sharp end of the race - and they really are going for it given the conditions. once stopped, there isn't a restart, though there's still that fun bit where casey joins valentino to (presumably) tell ezpeleta that they are not going back out there

le mans 2009*: my pitch for this one is that it has a claim to being the most embarrassing race of valentino's career. everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong. I laugh every time I think about this race, but I suppose you have to admire his perseverance

mugello 2009*: yeah, this one's fun! bike swap race right after le mans so Certain Riders are playing it a bit safe... some great tussling and mixing it up and odd run orders in this one, just what you're looking for. incidentally the last race before catalunya

donington 2009*: another one for people who sometimes want to watch some very talented athletes embarrass themselves. casey has the mystery illness excuse for making a ridiculous tyre choice, but the others? lemme not speak. great chaotic shenanigans

sepang 2009: valentino's first matchpoint race, but he has a horrendous first lap (after qualifying well for once) that makes it look like the championship might not be quite done yet. great race out front from casey, though a lot of this one is about tracking vale and jorge's progress through the field. good fun!

le mans 2011*: plenty of talking points post-race, with some riders perhaps not balancing risk/reward quite right on the slippery track. a fierce fight for the final two podium spots behind casey

silverstone 2011*: the signature casey wet weather performance, and it's just too good from him to be exciting out front. still, the conditions are nasty enough there's plenty of peril behind - which two riders in particular discover while attempting to take on dovi

valencia 2011*: unpleasant first corner pile-up, but it's a nice little race from there in tricky conditions that get worse at the end. an extended dovi/dani duel that has real stakes for championship standings and pride. also you get a really dramatic ending out front, kinda out of nowhere? worth sticking with this one

le mans 2012*: jorge's in that stage of his career where he's a decent wet weather racer, and he very much disappears out front as battle rages behind. valentino fights with casey, fights with dovi/cal, fights with casey again... the last vale/casey duel featuring a last lap overtake

assen 2014: wet to dry bike swap, with more rain threatening. it features the first real dovi/marc scrap (doesn't last long, but they have a 2nd go at it as marc hunts dovi down). plus there's also an impressive comeback ride from vale after a poor tyre choice

aragon 2014: rather a nasty valentino crash close to the start - but once you're through that, you're in for quite a silly one. let's just say the dominant rider that year does not have a particularly dignified day in the office. dry to wet bike swap race, which some perhaps grasped a little too late

silverstone 2015**: first race in which valentino lost the championship lead, but this is the bounce back race in the soaking wet. marc puts a lot of pressure on valentino here, it's 2015, what more do you want? late pressure from other riders too, a signature valentino wet weather ride

misano 2015*: big twists, big turns, massive title fight implications. a flag-to-flag race where both title contenders perhaps don't get it quite right... a lot of chaos where bike swap timing makes all the difference. a truly excellent performance from the winner

sachsenring 2016: no prizes for guessing who won this one, but way more jeopardy than the average visit to the circuit. marc just got these flag-to-flags bang on so often, and it's fun watching him secure what at one stage looked like rather an unlikely victory

brno 2016**: if you can, go into this one without being spoiler-ed, because I promise you that you will not be able to guess the podium combination after the first few laps. a lot of this race ends up being about tyre choice. a slow burn but a goody

misano 2017**: in that stretch of 2017 where every race is a Big Title Fight Race, which makes it so fun 2017 had so many of those in the wet. a fun race throughout, but the last lap is particularly daring and memorable. a signature marc performance

motegi 2017**: a race that gradually builds to a dovi/marc duel - and the additional jeopardy added by the conditions makes it something special. one hell of a last lap

sepang 2017**: first match point race, just to add a little extra drama to proceedings. a lot of tense wobbling about as dovi attempts to navigate his way back to the lead of the race - including past his rather stubborn teammate. excellent performance under high pressure from dovi

valencia 2018*: the conditions get so poor you do get several crashes that just make for unpleasant viewing... when they finally red flag it, the field is severely depleted, then it's broadly more of the same. defo a good race if 'chaos' is what you're looking for

le mans 2020*: entire race on wet track. I don't remember the 1st half of this being all that exciting, but once it gets going it's just SUCH dumb chaos, in a title fight that's all about dumb chaos

austria 2021**: a race that will be remembered more than anything because of the crazy way in which it was won. the whole race is fun, but the last few laps are kinda unforgettable

motegi 2023*: quite fun to have a flag-to-flag this late in the championship fight! the title contenders feature heavily in this one and there's enough shake-ups in the order to keep things interesting. psa: this race doesn't get restarted. pretty short

honourable mentions: valencia 2001, estoril 2002, jerez 2004, estoril 2005, le mans 2007, assen 2011, phillip island 2011, assen 2016, le mans 2021, argentina 2023

[shawnmendesbuddy]

Day 9–Trapped Together (25 Days of Ficmas)

A/N: Did you guys hear about the six feet of snow New York was getting? I based this story off of that.

Shawn sighed as he sat down on the bench in the underground station. He was supposed to be with his family right now, but with weather delays, he was unable to catch a flight to Toronto for another two days. Hence why he sat on a creaky metal bench, his guitar case at his feet. He would’ve taken an uber or called a driver, but they were all booked out for the holidays. And since every member from his team had gone home to spend time with their families, it was just him. 

The subway station was barren. Only him and one other girl sat around the station. He could only see her out of his peripheral and from what he could see, she was blowing hot air on her hands and shivering. It was a little chilly in the subway station, but Shawn didn’t think it was that cold. 

He glanced over at her only to be startled with her beauty. Even bundled up in a coat and a beanie, she was immediately the most gorgeous women he had ever seen. And just as he noticed this, he noticed that she was soaking wet. He jumped from his place he was sitting at and ran over to where she stood. 

“Are you ok?!” He questioned frantically, concerned for the women who stood before him. 

“Umm…I…. I…d-do y-you k-now w-what t-time it is?”

“It’s 7:25 pm.”

“Shouldn’t t-the t-train b-be h-here?”

“Yea. I think it said arrival time was right about now. Do you maybe want to take off that coat. I was going to the airport, but my flight was cancelled so I have some clothes you can wear.”

“I-I would hate t-to inconvenience y-you, but if you could, that would be nice.”

Shawn nodded walking over to his suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out a hoodie, some sweatpants, and some boxers. He didn’t care if she wore them, she was soaked to the bone. 

Just as he finished zipping his suitcase back up, the subway pulled in, opening its side doors. Shawn and Y/N quickly boarded, and Y/N retreated to the bathrooms. 

She returned from the bathroom as the subway had started moving again. Shawn smiled softly at her. She looked cute in his clothes. And most importantly, she looked warm. 

“Hey. I know this may be all backwards and all, but what’s your name?”

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. And I hope you don’t think I’ve taken advantage of you. What with you being famous and all.”

Shawn blushed. “So, you recognize me.”

She nodded. “Does that make you feel weird?”

“Np, you haven’t acted like a creep fan just yet, other than stealing my clothes,” he joked. “Why were you soaking wet anyways?”

She chuckled. “I’m a waitress at this restaurant in the city. Me and my coworker like to play pranks on each other. I was closing on my own tonight since all my coworkers were doing things with family for Christmas. Anyways, I opened the door to the kitchen as I was closing, and a bucket of water fell on top of me.”

Shawn shook his head, holding in a laugh. “I’m sorry. That’s kind of funny but really mean. How dare they pull a prank like that on you on Christmas day!”

“It’s fine. I’ve done worse.” 

“Oh, do tell.”

So, Y/N spent the next twenty minutes of the subway ride explaining to Shawn in great detail about all the pranks her and her coworker had played on each other. 

About halfway through one of her stories, the train came to an abrupt stop and the lights went out. Y/N screamed, and Shawn instinctively wrapped his arm around her protectively. 

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll get the train up and running in a few minutes. Must’ve been the storm. Finish telling me your story and I’ll recount a few things from tour.”

*****

After about another hour of them sitting in the dark and telling each other their life stories, they both began to get tired and cold. Shawn produced a few blankets from his suitcase and a pillow, and they cuddled up on the floor of the subway, trying to warm the other up. 

When they awoke in the morning, Shawn’s arm was wrapped around Y/N’s waist, and they were snuggled under the blankets. The train had started to move which awoke the two of them. 

They both chuckled and laughed the night off. “That was wacky. Maybe I can take you out to breakfast to help heal our traumatized minds?” Shawn questioned. 

“Sounds nice. But I have a question for you? Once you take me out to breakfast, I have a friend who is taking me up to Toronto because I have family up there that I’m trying to get to as well. Would you like to catch a ride with us?” 

“Any time I can get to spend with you will be cherished.”

He gently kissed her cheek as they prepared to deboard from the subway. 

A/N: This was absolute trash, but the prompt for day 9 wasn’t too great haha. Sorry for the disappointment. 

[adelha-mathilde]

It was windy, and rainy. Nnoitra would feel even more depressed if he just laid in bed, so he had decided to go outside. He'd found his large, black coat that would keep him warm (but not dry). His hair was wet and stuck to his face, making him look like a wet dog. Speaking of wet dogs - Nnoitra recognized the puppy. It was Wesson. The puppy never went anywhere alone, so yeah, there she was - the owner. Adelha. Nnoitra waved at her and knelt down to pet the puppy. "Did he drag ya out in this shitty weather? Damn, boy." Pet, pet.

Wesson is overjoyed to see Nnoitra to hop up and down. Giving Nnoitra's hands all the kisses as he prances in place with excitement. While Adelha simply chuckles to keep hold of Wesson's leash. Her winter coat keeping most of the water and wind from her frame. Her knee high leather boots looking well worn but functional to match the old jeans she has on. Her huff of a laugh genuine as she greet Nnoitra with good cheer despite the weather. "In truth, it was the other way around. The two of us have been leaving warm coats and socks for the homeless in various places today. As well as driving those in need of a doctor to the local clinics. Wesson was a big hit with many a soul this blustery day."

Wesson hops up on his hind legs to give Nniotra's chin a puppy kiss. Adelha chuckling to then look to the battered old blue van that was parked on the curb. A sigh of accomplishment escaping her lips as she smiles. "We just finished our last delivery to the homeless shelter for Wesson to need a bathroom break. So you just caught us before we head back to where we've been staying."

Adelha looks to Nnoitra to then frown with great worry. Those striking blue eyes taking in his very soaked state for her to speak further. "You look like you just swam through a river, Nnoitra. That has to be highly uncomfortable. If it would help at all, you could ride with us back to my residence. Which has a pristine water heater for hot baths and the added benefit of good food. In exchange, I would really be grateful if you helped me fix the kitchen cupboards. They need to have the hinges replaced and are quite high up."

[mikalara-dracula]

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

[love-and-monsters]

Deluges and Droughts

M water elemental X gn human, 7, 206 words

Your farm is being drowned by a flood, and, desperate to stop it, you recruit the services of a water elemental. But when the tides change, will you be able to help him?

It hadn’t stopped raining for the past eight days. The sky was still thick and gray, with clouds that descended to the treetops. It didn’t fall in a constant barrage, going back and forth between heavy rain and something of a drizzle, but it was nonstop. Even in your house, the air was damp and heavy.

You couldn’t get dry. Every day, you went out, checked your fields, and tried to care for your animals. The ground sloshed under your feet as you walked, muck loose under the grass. Your sheep bleated irritably at you whenever you entered the barn, usually dripping wet. The roof of the barn sagged dangerously in one area, a thick damp patch spreading toward the back. You made an effort to reinforce it, but there wasn’t a lot of chance it would hold. If the barn flooded, you would be in a lot of trouble.

When you woke up to water droplets trickling down your face and water seeping through your floor, you decided to go looking for a water elemental.

You fed your animals in a hurry, then strapped on your most waterproof boots, tugged on a raincoat, and headed out into the fields.

All elementals were tricky to find. They tended not to hang around humans settlements, mostly because they weren’t fans of humans in general. Rarely did they even take on human form. But you needed to find something that would stop the damn weather.

You hiked to the one spot in the fields near your house that would house a water elemental- a lake fed by a massive river. The banks had swollen and overflowed thanks to the abundance of rain, so you had to give it a wide berth. Once you had made it as close to the bank as you felt was safe, you swung your pack off your shoulders and started looking through it.

In your bag, you held what you hoped would be sufficient to summon a water elemental. There was a shell that had been formatted into something like a wind chime, or a bell, an offering of coins that had spend the past three days submerged in brackish water, and a few pieces of sea glass that you had collected from the beach as a child.

Delicately, you approached the edge of the water and placed the sea glass into the waves. Once they had been pulled away from shore, you placed the coins on the bank so the water lapped over them, and held the windchime out until it caught the wind and the soft sound of bells echoed across the water.

You took a deep breath. “You who lives in waves and water, who is one with the sky and sea and storms. Source of all life, I call to you, and request your presence.”

Your voice barely carried over the sound of rain against the lake. Wind whipped stinging cold raindrops against your face. You snuffled against the running of your nose. For several minutes, you stood on the shore of the lake, staring out into the misty silence.

Just as you were ready to assume it hadn’t worked, something out in the lake splashed. You felt your shoulders stiffen, creeping up toward your ears. Cold rain slithered down your back and dripped down your shoulders.

Something in the water splashed again. You squinted out over the lake, trying to make out anything through the haze of mist. As the splashing grew closer, you could see something moving under the water, a dark shape that grew more distinct the closer it got.

Within moments, the shape had approached the shore. It remained in the water for a moment, then the surface rippled and it emerged.

For a moment, its shape was indistinct, like a pillar of water was rising from the lake. Then the water rippled and started to take on a humanoid form. At first, the shape was only vague, like a shadow, then details started to emerge. It stood on the surface of the water as steadily as you were standing on dry land. The water seemed to solidify, not like ice, but like the water was growing thicker and thicker, drawing in tight until the details were evident.

He (he looked like a he) was taller than you, at least six and a half feet tall, with an impressively broad chest. His facial features were surprisingly detailed, from the hooked shape of his nose to the ice-white chips of his eyes. His hair looked like waterfall, rippling down his back and ending in a frothy white cap. He was entirely nude, but with doll anatomy, something you were both grateful for and slightly disappointed by.

“You were calling for me.” His voice had a strange quality to it, like the sound of waves against rocks. It was more intimidating than you’d expected and it sent a shiver wrapping down your spine.

“I did.” Your voice shook, but the water elemental barely seemed to take note of it. He stepped closer to the shore, where only a thin barrier of water kept him from stepping directly on land.

“And what did you summon me for?” the elemental asked. He sounded slightly impatient.

“The rain,” you said. “The land is drowning. It’s been raining nonstop for eight days. It’s destroying everything. I need your help to prevent it.”

The elemental looked at you levelly. He seemed neither surprised, nor concerned. “Yes, it has been raining. My own territory has been expanding thanks to this.” He tilted his head at you. “Did you wish for me to stop the rain?”

You swallowed. “Can you?”

“No.” His voice was cool and unconcerned. Despair rolled through you in a massive wave. “Nor would I if I could. The rain grants me great strength. I can feel it seeping into the land.” He lifted his arms and the mist seemed to thicken around him.

Panic lanced through you, hot and sharp. “Wait!” you said. The elemental looked at you. “What if I can make it worth your while?”

He lowered his hands again. “I would be terribly interested to see how you would do such a thing.”

You took in a deep breath. This plan would work. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully. “You gain power based on how much water you have in your… territory, right?” The elemental gave you a skeptical look, but he nodded. “So, obviously, you’re going to want more water in your territory, yes?”

“That would be beneficial to me, yes,” the elemental said. “You are offering to being me water?” He didn’t seem all that impressed.

“Sort of,” you said. “Water elementals can control water, right? If you really wanted to, you would be able to draw it out of the land.”

“Yes,” he said. “Thought it is rarely work the effort. If the water is in my territory, regardless of the form it takes, it adds to my power.”

“Well, if you come to my land, you can have the excess water. It’ll be added to your territory, so you’ll grow more powerful, and I’ll get rid of all the water I don’t need. It’s a win-win.”

The elemental looked at you for a long moment. He seemed to be thinking it over. His form rippled as if he were about to dissolve and your heart sank. Then he smiled wolfishly. “Yes. Your terms are acceptable.”

You sagged in relief. “Good. All right. Then we should start right now.” You started to head back up the bank, realized he wasn’t following you, and stopped. “Are you coming?”

He smiled, like you were being funny in some way you didn’t fully understand. “I require water to travel,” he said.

“It’s pretty wet,” you said. “You can’t travel in the rain or something?”

“There is not enough water in the air to sustain me,” he said. “And the ground would need to be much more saturated than it is for me to walk across it.”

Despite him pointing out problems with your plan, he didn’t seem all that concerned about it. You narrowed your eyes and folded your arms over your chest. “I assume you have some kind of plan?”

The elemental smiled. “Indeed.” He lifted one watery hand and pointed at you. “Humans are made of seventy percent water. Enough water for me to hitch a ride.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “What, you want me to carry you on my back all the way back to the farm?” you were strong, but you weren’t entirely sure if you could carry an entire man on your back over such a long distance.

The elemental’s smile grew wider. “Not precisely. I have an easier method in mind.” He held a hand out to you. “Touch me. You will see.”

That was mysterious, and you weren’t a huge fan of mysterious things. But you had a feeling he wasn’t going along with you unless you did as you were told. You gritted your teeth and placed your hand into his.

It was like you had thrown yourself face-first into the ocean and gone limp. The tide caught you and heaved you back and forth. Water rushed around you, tugging at your limbs almost hard enough to wrench them out of their sockets. As much as you could feel it on the outside of your skin, you could feel a tide pounding against your insides. Your blood pulsed in the same rhythm as the sea, like waves were crashing against the inside of your skin.

Gradually, you became aware of the ground underneath you once again. You were on your knees, sinking into the mud. Rain dripped down the back of your neck and soaked your hair. But within you, there was still that pounding of the tide. Your blood pounded through your veins, rushed in your ears. You were aware of the way it thundered through your veins, like the entirety of the ocean’s power had been tucked under your skin.

You forced your mouth open. “What did you do to me?” It was almost impossible to hear your own voice over the tides of your own body.

The voice didn’t come from outside. It echoed in your head, a rushing sound like a waterfall had learned to speak, like the tides in your body were forming words. Your body is seventy percent water, he repeated. I can stay within the water in you.

You pressed a hand to your chest. The tide still thrummed under your skin, but you were getting more used to it. The pulse was almost comforting, like a second heartbeat. “You’re inside me?”

In a manner of speaking. I am within the water you carry inside you. The rushing sensation within you grew stronger, as if the elemental was doing it deliberately. Now you may carry me back to the land with you. I will emerge, take in the water, and you can carry me back home.

Slowly, you got to your feet. You found yourself swaying involuntarily, moving with the tide inside you. Even though he was no longer speaking, you could feel the elemental lingering in the back of your mind. It was a sensation not unlike the feeling of being watched.

“Comfortable for your trip?” you asked, trying to sound casual. It didn’t work as well as you’d hoped. The tide pulsing inside you made it hard to focus. A sudden wave of amusement hit you, and you almost laughed before you realized that the amusement wasn’t your own. It was his.

You are actually quite comfortable. The tide inside you gave a powerful surge, like the elemental was shifting in some strange way. I have not done this in a very long time. Your body is far better than my last travel partner. They were tight. You are not too cramped and not too large. Cozy. Your blood surged once more and you had to stop moving to reorient yourself.

“Can you try not to move so much? It’s… uncomfortable.” The elemental didn’t say anything, but you felt his answering apology. After allowing your heartbeat to stabilize once more, you headed back home.

You trudged across the flat, open plains. You felt hyperaware of the water against your skin now, like every trickling drop of rain was electrified. The water elemental pounded through your bloodstream, heavy and heady with power. You felt like you could taste the storm as it rolled across the sky.

Something in the back of your mind shifted and your attention refocused. Somehow, you weren’t entirely aware of how, you could feel the water elemental poking around in your head. He seemed to be flipping through your memories with the mild interest you associated with looking through an acquaintance’s photo journal of their vacation.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked out loud. The water elemental spared you only the tiniest flicker of attention before returning to his sifting.

I want to know about the life of my carrier, he said. I know so little about humans. You are fascinating.

“Fascinating as I may be, I don’t appreciate you- hey!” The elemental hovered on an image of you and your ex buried in a particularly heated kiss. “Cut that out!”

Swapping fluids seems to be a particularly intimate form of human communication, the elemental said. There was no mistaking the amusement in his tone. I approve.

“Cut it out!” you protested. The elemental’s amusement became thicker in your head, swirling like some heady storm. Fine. Two could play at this game. He was inside you, his thoughts inside your head. All you had to do was swim against the tide and-

You plunged into his mind like diving into a great ocean. The currents of his thoughts buffeted you, but you were able to turn against it. A memory drifted by you, buoyed on a stream of thought, and you reached for it.

He twisted, curling, a puddle barely big enough to stand in, but he could feel it, the rain and the stream that fed him. Yes, he was here, he was new, but he could grow stronger and powerful-

The storm overhead raged and he raged with it, his surface surging to catch every drop of water. The river that fed him was swollen, overspilling its banks and feeding him in a great, surging wave of power. He could feel it growing stronger, yes, yes, the power, the feeling of becoming greater, stronger-

It was the sun, the blazing heat that was destroying him. He slunk to the depths of his lake, barely able to feel the trickle of his river feeding him. No matter how hard he struggled, he could still feel the pull of each tiny drop being drawn away from him by the sun, a slow death of heat until he was nothing more than a damp patch on the ground-

The sun was hot, but his river was feeding him and the air was thick with delicious humidity. Humans splashed in his shallows. He looked at them curiously, feeling their motions through the water. They played, hands entwined, laughing with delight at the feeling of his water. Delighting in him, in his power. His awareness was drawn to the two humans at the edge of the lake, standing in his shallows, their bodies pressed together, mouths connected. Some strange emotion flared within him, something tender and sad and happy all at once-

Enough! Something slammed into your mind, like you were being violently shoved. You wobbled in place, the unsteadiness in your mind transferring into your body. The water elemental surged within you, twisting and writhing. Stay out!

There was rage in his voice, but it barely managed to conceal his terror. You looking into his mind had scared him- he hadn’t known you could do that. “I could say the same to you,” you replied. The elemental churned inside you for a moment, but you could feel his anger wane.

Very well. Truce. He did the mental equivalent of turning his back on you, deliberately putting his attention somewhere else. You waited for a moment to make sure he wasn’t just trying to get your guard down, then continued walking toward your home.

The ground sloshed under your feet as you entered the outstretches of your land. The fibers of grass were no longer properly holding the ground together, and you could feel everything slipping under you, threatening to trip you up. It was part of the reason you hadn’t been letting your sheep out. The last thing you needed was for one of them to get stuck in the mud and break their leg.

The skies opened up once more as you approached your barn and you picked up the pace, hurrying get inside. The water elemental perked up as the rain drenched you, soaking through your clothes and straight to your skin.

Your sheep bleated anxiously as you stepped into your barn. The damp patch on the roof was still dripping and starting to sag dangerously. Your concern about that, however, paled under the sudden weight of the elemental’s curiosity. What are those!?

“They’re sheep,” you said. “Have you never seen sheep before?”

No. The elemental cautiously started poking at your mind again, shuffling through your memories.

“Hey!” you said. The elemental froze guiltily. “No looking through memories, got it? If you just ask, I’ll tell you.”

The elemental shifted sulkily in the back of your mind for a moment, then stretched out toward you again. What are sheep?

“They’re, uh.” Well, you hadn’t wanted him to poke through your mind, but now that you were actually being questioned, you weren’t sure how to explain sheep. “Uh, they’re animals. They grow wool that I shear and sell and sometimes I butcher them, if they get too old or injured. I take care of them, deliver lambs when it’s lambing season. They’re a lot of work, but it’s better than working in an office or something.” You gave one of the sheep an affectionate pat. It bleated at you. “And they go ‘baah.’”

I am aware. They are doing so right now. Another one of the sheep butted against your hand and gave a low bleat.

The sheep gathered around you, nuzzling and butting at your hands. As much as he was clearly trying to hide it, the elemental was delighted by the sheep. When you brushed your hand along their wool, he could barely suppress his glee.

You spent several moments indulging his curiosity before another groan from the roof drew your attention. A few splatters of water slipped through and splashed on the ground. “Okay. We should actually do what we came here to do. Can you control the water or something?”

Not from in here. Do you have water that I can enter? You snagged one of the basins that you’d been using to collect the dripping water and dragged it a little ways away from the sheep.

“Will this work?”

Well enough. If a bit cramped. Place your hand in the water. You crouched and rested the palm of your hand on the surface of the water. The elemental shifted inside you once more. It was a strange, twisting sensation, and the pull and rock of the tide began to yank at you once more. You closed your eyes, breathing in and out slowly. For a moment, you could feel the elemental pouring himself out of you. Then there was a strange quiet in your body.

Your body was lighter without him inside you. But there was also something strangely empty about it. For some time, you had felt the power of the elemental pulsing inside you. Now there was nothing in its place, and you felt light, but also disconnected. You couldn’t even feel the pulse of your own blood.

“Are you well?” The voice drew you out of your thoughts. The elemental was looking down at you, formed from his knees-up in a bucket of water. It was a little bit of a ridiculous sight.

“I’m okay. Just- I don’t know, it feels a little like when you’ve been straining your muscles for a while, then you stop and you kind of feel all floaty?” The elemental tilted his head to one side, eyes completely blank. “Oh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know a lot about that, huh?” You stood up from where you’d fallen on your butt and brushed the dirt off your pants. “What do you need to do now?”

The elemental closed his eyes. “I must gather the water to me. I should be able to collect a great deal of it- possibly enough to stop the oversaturation of the land.” His form wavered and shifted like he was taking in a deep breath.

Your skin started to tingle all over, almost like static electricity. The air felt thick and damp as you tried to pull it into your lungs. Dampness stuck to your skin. It felt like the air itself was growing thicker, like you were trying to breathe underwater. The sheep bleated and shifted frantically.

Just when you were sure the air was about to turn to water and you were going to drown on land, the tension that had been rising in the air popped. Within a second, the air went from nearly oversaturated to bone dry. Your mouth had been open as you tried to suck in breath and you felt the moisture wick itself from your tongue. You choked as your mouth and throat were completely dried. The sheep were shifting in a near panic, crushing up against you.

Something soft and jelly-like hooked itself around your waist and dragged you across the floor, taking you away from the panicked sheep. You fumbled, trying to seize the appendage, but your fingers went right through it. Yelping, you pulled your soaking hands back. It was water, a column of water that had just enough solidity against your skin to pull you around. You followed the column with your eyes. It led back to the water bucket. The elemental was looking back at you, expression placid.

You made an attempt to speak, but your mouth was still completely dry. Your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth and no matter how much your throat spasmed, you couldn’t swallow.

“Apologies,” the elemental said. “I was only trying to pull water from the air. I didn’t expect it to pull water from you as well. You should probably have kept your mouth closed.” You were too busy trying to get your mouth to not feel like you’d been chewing sand to replay. “Here. Drink.”

You refocused on him. He had changed position in the bucket, turned fully toward you and lowered, like he was kneeling. His hands were out in front of him, cupped around a drop of water. It was clearly differentiated from the water of his hands, glistening like an oversized dewdrop.

It was fundamentally pretty weird, but you were too thirsty to bother with any sort of discomfort. You bent your head forward and slurped the water up from his palms. It was ice cold and it tasted crystalline and sweet, better than any other water you’d ever tasted. Whether that was just due to how thirsty you were or if he had some sort of way of making water taste delicious, you didn’t know.

Once you had drunken your fill, the elementa withdrew his hands. “I pulled as much water from the land as I could. I will guarantee nothing, but I should have taken enough to prevent any more flooding. Possibly even enough to lessen the storms.”

You turned to look at your leaking roof. The damp patch was completely gone, dry as if it had never been there. The roof still sagged alarmingly, but that was something you could fix. Peeking out the barn door showed that the sky had lightened considerably. There was even sunlight peeking through a few tiny gaps.

“Thank you,” you said. The elemental looked away from you, one of his shoulders rising and falling in a smooth shrug.

“It was a beneficial arrangement for the both of us. There is no need to thank me.” His voice was oddly reedy, a quieter trickle of water than the great rushing noise that his voice usually was.

“Still. I’m grateful.” You tilted your head in a gesture of appreciation. The water elemental made a noise similar to a grunt. “Give me a few minutes to inspect everything.”

He rolled his eyes, but also waved a hand dismissively. You took that as a sign to leave and hurried outside.

The fields outside were firm under your feet as you ran toward your house. Even the air was free from the oppressive mugginess that had surrounded you for over a week. It was easier to breathe.

A quick jog around your property revealed that the awful dampness had receded and everything felt much clearer than before. The worry that had been resting in your chest for the past few days lessened.

When you returned to the barn, the elemental was crouched in the bucket, holding his hands out to the sheep. They appeared to be biting and snapping at his hands, fighting for the best position. A snap of alarm went through you. “Hey! Back up!” You clapped your hands and the sheep scattered obediently.

The elemental straightened back up. “They aren’t harming me. I believe they were thirsty.”

“Yeah, they’ve got water buckets,” you said. The elemental turned his attention to you as you approached. “Ready to go home?”

“I am. Brace yourself. This will feel… more than before.” He extended his hands toward you as you reached back toward him.

The instant your fingers came in contact with his, you were hit once more by the sensation of a powerful wave crashing over you. This time, you were braced for the sensation. It didn’t knock you on your ass, but you felt the power.

It was stronger than before, the pounding of water in your veins. The elemental surged in the back of your mind. Pressure pounded against the inside of your skin, thundered in your ears.

Move with the tide. You are fighting it. The elemental’s voice sounded in the back of your mind, above the pounding waves. You relaxed, letting your hackles drop. The water pulled you along and, for a moment, you felt that you were going to drown. Then the tide calmed and you found yourself drifting, pulled gently by the water.

You opened your eyes. The sheep had scattered back, giving you a wide berth. The elemental’s thought surged in the back of your mind, a sudden and intense urge to pet them.

You laughed and gave the sheep affectionate pats as you headed out of the barn. “You know, you can come back and pet them any time you want.”

The elemental shifted in the back of your mind, disgruntled and a little embarrassed at being caught. I cannot. This is outside my territory and I cannot be brought here without being carried.

“Oh.” The disappointment you felt was surprisingly keen. You felt the elemental shifting in your mind, like he was trying not to look at your feelings. Embarrassed that your thoughts had an audience, you distracted yourself by trudging across the land.

You were back at the edge of the lake sooner than you’d anticipated. The elemental surged with excitement at being back in his home territory. You could feel the boundary in your own body, like a massive case of the warm fuzzies. It almost made you giggle, like being tickled from the inside out.

The edge of the lake lapped over your feet as you approached. You crouched and placed your hands beneath the surface of the water. This time, however, the elemental didn’t come pouring out of you. He hesitated, churning beneath your skin. you could feel his longing to go home war with some strange other desire that you couldn’t place.

“Don’t you want to leave?” you asked, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

Yes. I am merely making sure that I don’t pull the water out of your body when I leave. His statement would have been more intimidating if you hadn’t been able to feel how flustered he was.

“You didn’t have to do that before,” you teased. The elemental only got more flustered, twisting within you like a cyclone.

I am leaving. Again came that strange pouring sensation and you fell back on your rear in the mud. The elemental rose out of the water in front of you. He looked more solid than he had before, his hair billowing around him in misty waves.

“Okay,” you said, standing up and brushing your pants off once more. “I guess this is goodbye.”

“I suppose it is,” the elemental said. Despite being composed entirely of water, he managed to look as stiff as a board as he spoke to you. “If you ever wish to summon me again, simply place you hand in the water and call for me. I will come.”

“I don’t know your name,” you said. The elemental shrugged.

“Elementals rarely take names. If you wish for something to call me, pick anything. I’ll be fine with it.”

You considered for a moment. “Cerulean,” you said. “I’ll call you Cerulean.” He shrugged.

“If that is what you wish to call me.” His voice sounded mostly even, but he had been in your head and you had been in his and he couldn’t completely hide his pleased embarrassment from you. “Farewell, human.”

With that, he dissolved into the water. You looked out over the surface of the water for a moment, feeling the cool mist of rain on your skin, then you turned around and returned home.

You had planned to visit him sooner, but it ended up being over a month before you went back to the lake. Life was busy as ever, and the weather had one-eightied so sharply that walking to the lake had been profoundly unappealing. It was hot, the sort of heat that made you think crawling into an oven might be the cooler option.

When you hit the third day of drought warnings, you decided to go see Cerulean. Just out of concern. After filling two massive canteens with cold water and strapping them to your thighs, you headed out.

Your house was well-watered, thanks to an underground reservoir, so the drought wasn’t affecting you all that much. But you’d heard that several rivers had dropped precipitously in level, and your mind kept wandering back to the image Cerulean had inadvertently showed you- the one where he struggled in the blazing heat, in a tiny puddle, feeling himself drawn away bit by bit.

The lake had receded. The edge of the lake that you’d stood upon to summon Cerulean for the first time was dry as a bone. The edge of the water, several feet away, was murky with muck and silt. You walked closer and dipped your hand beneath the surface.

“Cerulean?” The water was barely cool to the touch. Sweat dripped down your back as you bent forward. “Cerulean!”

There was silence. Panic flickered in your chest. “Come on, where are you?” You unhooked one of the canteens from your side and dumped the water into the lake. The water rippled. Some distance away, the surface of the lake shifted.

Hope sparked in your chest. “Cerulean!” You dumped the other canteen and plunged your hand back under the water. “Can you hear me?”

The water underneath your hand surged, reaching up until it was encasing your forearm. Slowly, as though it was taking a monumental effort, the water shifted and formed Cerulean’s torso.

“It’s you again,” he said. His form wavered, threatening to fall apart. “I’m afraid if you need my help, I am not in the right condition to do so.”

“I came here because I thought you might need my help!” you said. “Are you okay? The lake looks really low. And the river…” The usual flowing water that fed into the lake was barely more than a trickle.

Cerulean pulled his form further together, rising out of the water to his knees. “I have been… I suppose the human term for it would be asleep? It conserves my energy, but I am not aware of the world around me.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you said. “Mostly okay, anyway. I was worried about you, with the drought.”

“Is that why you brought water with you?” he asked, gesturing to the empty canteens.

“I thought, maybe if the lake levels dropped enough, these might help.”

“It would take monumental effort for a human to maintain the lake in the middle of a drought,” Cerulean said dismissively. “Especially considering your own water needs.”

“I’ve got enough water,” you said. “But the lake looks bad.” It had lost at least half its volume since the rains had stopped.

“I have had worse,” Cerulean said.

“They’re not predicting rain for at least another week,” you said. “And that’s only going to be a drizzle, probably. Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

“There is little I can do about it either way,” Cerulean said with a flowing shrug. “If there is a drought, there is a drought.”

“What happens if the lake totally dries up?” you asked.

“I die,” Cerulean said. “In a manner of speaking. I will evaporate. Eventually I will reconstitute, but I will lack my memories.”

“So, you’ll forget me?” you asked.

“I will forget everything,” Cerulean said. “That includes you, yes.” He shifted in the water, his form rippling. “This upsets you?”

“A little,” you said.

Cerulean looked as though he didn’t know how to feel about that. His expression rippled, facial features dissolving before he managed to reform them. “Then I will endeavor to remain here,” he said. “Though I have little control over it.”

“Is there a way you could get to a more secure location?” you asked. “Somewhere with more water?”

“If there was another lake or pond of some sort that was not already occupied by a water elemental, it would be possible for me to move there. But there are no areas close by that are suitable.”

“You would know if there were other elementals nearby?” you asked.

“I would sense it,” Cerulean confirmed. “We can tell when we cross into another’s territory, and we can sense where our own territory boundaries end.”

“There weren’t any on my land, were there?” you asked.

“No. I did not sense any when I was there. Though I was not particularly looking hard for anything.”

You considered that for a moment. “Would the lake have to be above ground?”

Cerulean gave you a funny look. “No. Any particularly large body of water would work.”

“Okay. Well. If you’re okay with it, I might have somewhere in mind.”

It took some convincing to let Cerulean come check out the underground reservoir. He was reluctant to leave his home, especially when he was in such a vulnerable state. Eventually, however, you pointed out that there was no harm in just taking a look at it.

“If it will make you happy,” he finally sighed. He poured himself into you again. This time, it no longer felt like an overwhelming wave of power. It was weak, barely enough to make your blood pound. Worry crawled through you at how weak he was.

Your worry is irritating, Cerulean said in your mind. You felt a little embarrassed at the intrusion, but your concern overpowered that.

“Let me worry a little bit. You’re not used to someone being worried over you, huh?” you said. Cerulean bristled in the back of your mind.

No. Elementals are solitary by nature. But you could feel his mind in yours and, as much as he tried to hid it, you could feel that he was pleased someone was caring for him.

You trudged across the land until you got into your house. Cerulean’s attention shifted to the sheep with interest. “We can look at them in a bit,” you said. His attention snapped away again and there was a swell of irritation and poorly hidden embarrassment.

There was a well not too far from your house that was also attached to the reservoir, and that seemed to be the easiest way for him to get to it. You carefully filled the bucket and pulled it up. “You can get in the bucket, and then I can lower you to check it out. Will you need help getting back up?”

No. I will find my own way out. There are many connections to other areas. Cerulean flowed away from you. The water in the bucket rippled and shifted as he entered. You replaced the bucket on the hook and cranked the winch until the bucket had vanished with a quiet splash.

You sat by the edge of the well, swinging your legs. The minutes ticked on as you waited for him to return. By the time thirty minutes had passed, you were starting to get nervous. Could he actually get out on his own, or was he just being overconfident? How would you even get him back out?

Just when you were starting to consider actually getting in the well, your sheep set up a bleating alarm. You scrambled to your feet and bolted toward your barn.

It took you a moment to discover the source of the alarm. One of the spigots had turned itself on and was gushing water onto the ground. Your sheep bleated and skittered away from it. Grimacing at the interruption, you stalked over and tried to twist the spigot back off.

It refused to turn, no matter how much force you tried to put into it. Water splattered at the ground, forming a puddle that soaked your toes. You grimaced. God dammit, you couldn’t afford to be wasting water.

Just as you were about to go find some tools to shut the water off, a familiar form emerged from the water. Cerulean gazed steadily at you, a faint smile gracing his face. He looked far stronger than he had at the lake. His hair was a waterfall behind him and his form was so solid it was hard to see through.

“I thought it was connected to your house,” he said. “It took me some time to fond the correct pipes.” One of the sheep cautiously stepped closer to him and he offered a watery hand. “The reservoir is much larger than I anticipated. It descends a great deal underground and is fed by multiple rivers. Even with water being drawn out of it, the whole thing dwarfs my lake.”

“Then it works for you?” you asked. Cerulean smiled.

“It is a far better territory than my old one, even if there were not a drought.” Cerulean hesitated for a moment. “You would be all right with me taking up residence here?”

“It’s mutually beneficial, isn’t it?” you said. “You have a safe location from the drought, and I’ve got someone who can help out my farm if the rains come back.”

Cerulean gave a small, soft smile. “Mutually beneficial. Yes.”

Weeks passed and you got used to his presence on the farm. It wasn’t uncommon for one of your taps to turn itself on and for Cerulean to appear in your sink or tub or wherever he felt like turning up. Eventually, his presence became a near-constant thing. He would assist on the farm, keep you company in the evenings, and even managed to be good enough at math to help you with your taxes, which was certainly not something you were expecting.

A couple of months after he had come to the farm, you returned home and sank onto your couch. Cerulean peered at you from the kitchen. “Are you well?”

“Sore. Ugh, my muscles are killing me. I don’t know what I did, but I think something happened to my back.” You lay on your stomach, groaning as your back muscles strained and protested. “I’m not moving from this couch.”

Cerulean slipped closer to you. “Would you like some help?”

You opened one of your eyes. “You can help with this?”

Cerulean answered by flowing his shape over you. It was cool for a moment, then it warmed until it was pleasantly heated against your skin. Then the water started to move, currents buffeting your muscles like a massage.

You let out a low groan. “Oh, that’s so good. Thank you, thank you.” your mind hazed with pleasure as you drifted into a state where the only thing present was the feeling of your sore muscles being soothed.

“I miss you,” you murmured absently. Cerulean paused and you whined in displeasure.

“I’m right here,” Cerulean said, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I know, but- you remember when you were in my head? I miss that. It was… nice.” You felt relaxed, so relaxed that you were no longer able to guard the words coming from your mouth. “I could feel what it was like to be you for a little bit.”

Cerulean’s massage started again. “You enjoyed that?” There was a long pause. “I enjoyed it as well.”

“Maybe we can do it again sometime,” you said.

Cerulean was quiet for a moment longer. “If we are thinking of experiences we would like to try,” he said slowly, “perhaps there is something else we can try. In the show we watched the other day, some humans did something I was interested in.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Yeah? What was it?”

Cerulean leaned forward, tilting his head and his mouth pressed to yours. It was cool and strangely textured, but it tasted sweet and bright as spring water and it made your stomach flutter.

“Do you- Do you know what that means?” you asked as soon as his mouth broke away from his. Cerulean couldn’t blush, but you saw tiny cyclones swirling inside him that indicated he was flustered.

“It’s a gesture of affection,” he murmured. “Between humans who are living together. And it often leads to other things, that often occur between humans who are close.” He leaned his head close to yours again. “I enjoy spending time with you. I feel close to you. And it would be mutually beneficial.”

His tone became more flustered the longer he spoke. Perhaps if you hadn’t been in his head, you would have believed it was just for some passing curiosity. But you knew the look in his eyes, could detect how flustered he was and how much he wanted this. And you had to be honest: you wanted it too.

“Mutually beneficial, huh?” you said, voice teasing. “Well, if it’s mutually beneficial, then why not?”

As Cerulean’s form shifted and flowed over you, trying to cover your body, you murmured a quiet, “I love you.” He didn’t respond, but you knew he had heard you. And he would say it back when he was ready.

For now, you were just happy to have him with you.

[wheresmybuckyhoes]

I am not sitting on you Bucky (smut)

Summary: You need to sit in Bucky’s lap for a car ride, and obvisouly he takes up the opportunity to do certain things to you

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings: smut (18+), swearing, public fingering, pet names, using the metal arm very wisely ;)

Note from moi: I literally just had this idea and it’s so fricking hot so enjoy!

‘Everyone in the car now!’ Commanded Steve as he tossed his shield in the boot of the car, slamming it shut a lot harder than intended.

‘Rogers this is a party. You know... a thing to attend when you want to relax and take a day off. We aren’t on a mission, so chill!’ you laughed, gently shoving his arm earning sniggers from Thor and Bucky. You, Thor, Steve, and Bucky were going to a party in celebration of the success of your recent mission. Steve wouldn’t tell any of you what he had planned, despite the constant bugging from you and Thor. Bucky couldn’t care less what Steve had planned, as long as you weren’t going to Hydra’s base. The 4 of you made your way over to Steve’s old car. It was a beautiful shade of blue, although the paint was peeled and rusty.

‘Human cars are pathetic. In Azgard we have these amazing golden spaceships way better than...’ you heard Thor’s deep voice boom behind you. You narrowed your eyes as you approached the car. You couldn’t really tell what was weird about it due to the built up dirt on the windows, but something was off. You opened your mouth to comment on it before Steve cleared his throat awkwardly. ‘This car maaaay only have 3 seats due to an unfortunate explosion which ripped a hole through one of the back seats. Any chance you can fly Thor?’ Steve said, looking around. ‘If you think I’m going to FLY in this hot weather when I havnt even eaten yet today you are very much mistak...’ Thor began but was interrupted by a low voice from behind you.

‘Y/n can sit on me’ Bucky said calmly, as you turned around quickly to protest, trying to get a word out only to be cut of by Steve clapping his hands together. ‘Great! Right team let’s go!’ He smiled, getting into the drivers seat with Thor beside him. ‘I’m not sitting on you Bucky’ you said to Bucky, crossing your arms watching him lean against the car door, his eyes looking at you with a weird look. Almost lustful. He took a step towards you as you stared into his eyes, not daring to back down first. ‘Well you better princess, Cap just turned the engine on. I promise I’ll hold you tight’ he winked at you before opening the passenger door and getting in. You looked around at the empty street, flustered. If he thinks for one second you are going to enjoy this, he is very mistaken. You huff, and get in the car, quickly sitting on Bucky and shutting the door.

Steve and Thor were busy chatting away about beards and Loki, and you had been driving for half an hour with no problems. But as you looked out of the window, you suddenly felt a cold metal hand graze your thigh. You jumped at the feeling, only to feel Bucky use his other hand to cover your mouth and pull your head back, so his mouth barley touched your ear. ‘You look like you havn’t been pleased for a long time, y/n. Getting all flustered when I hadn’t even touched you yet. I think a princess like you deserves to feel good. So, you keep quiet for me, and I can help you out. Sounds good?’ he whispered in your ear, sending shivers all the way down your spine, feeling butterflies in more areas than one.

You were so confused and shocked at this sudden advance. You were friends with Bucky, even good friends. But to be honest, you havn’t been able to really get of since you started going on missions, being very busy, and you always caught Bucky staring at you when he had the chance. You were sure he also hadn’t been able to touch a girl in a while due to being just as busy if not more busy than you. So for some reason, you nodded slowly, moving your hands down either side of you, gripping his legs.

That was all Bucky needed. His strong metal arm moved to cover your mouth properly as his other, still strong hand smoothly slid down your waist. He slid it beneath your skirt, while still being above your panties. He kissed your neck as he began to gently rub your clit in slow circles, earning a small moan from you which was quickly muffled by his hand. Thor and Chris were still blissfully unaware as to what was going on in the back seat.

Bucky sped up slightly, feeling you soak through your panties very, very quickly. He leaned in to groan quietly in your ear ‘so wet for me already’. You rolled your eyes into the back of your head - not from the sarcasm but from the absolute pleasure you had just receive from the tingling hum of Bucky’s voice by your ear. Bucky was speeding up his circles, and you began to quickly feel the warm knot in your stomach begin to build up, nearing your release at a rather fast pace. You began to slightly shake, and as you began to breath heavier, Bucky decided it would be a great idea to pull his fingers away completely.

You wanted to scream but all it resulted in was your whining into his hand and you gripping his legs, trying not to cry. You were so close, and the lack of friction was torture. Bucky leaned in once more, grabbing your hair by the roots (so it didn’t hurt) and pulling your head back. ‘Did you want me to let you finish?’ he asked innocently. You nodded furiously, grabbing at his hand and trying to put it back in its place. ‘Very eager. Don’t worry, I’ll finish you off’ he smirked against your ear. Before you had time to question his snarky tone, hand still on your mouth, he inserted a finger into your very wet pussy, pumping slowly at first, speeding up as your adjusted. He proceeded to insert 2, quickly making the burning feeling build up again. You could feel his boner grow, pressing against your bum, and decided to slightly grind against him to tease him for edging you.

This made Bucky slightly buck his hips, groaning into your ear. ‘Shouldn’t have done that y/n’. He removed his metal hand to replace it with his juice covered one, inserting 2 metal fingers into you. It didn’t hurt, as you were very lubricated by your own juices, but when he inserted 3, you felt your brain explode. ‘Fuck fuck fuuuck’ you whined into his hand. He fingered your immensely quickly, holding you down with his legs on your legs as you squirmed on his lap from the over stimulation. He circled your clit with his thumb as he continued to finger you. You were being pushed over the edge now. He whispered in you ear, ‘cum for me princess’ as you felt the burning spread to your legs, and eventually reached your finish. You felt your whole body shake. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Bucky sped up if that were even possible. Your body was burning, your stomach was tensing, and you felt wave after wave of pleasure, and the boner wasn’t helping you to stay calm. You could feel how big he was underneath you.

As much as the hand muffled your moans, you were still a tiny bit too loud. As you began to come down from the most intense orgasm you had ever experienced, Thor turned around. Your eyes widened, and you felt Bucky smirk behind you. Thor’s mouth fell open, seeing you a hot mess with Bucky’s metal arm down your pants, smirking like a man who had just won the lottery. ‘Holy shit’ You heard Thor say, but not quite see as you were still seeing stars. ‘What’ Steve asked as Bucky removed his hand and uncovered your mouth, grabbing you by the jaw and turning your head around to kiss you deeply. As you kissed Bucky, you felt him smile and laugh into the kiss as you heard Steve get more confused. ‘What?! Am I missing something here. I demand you tell me as your leader. What is happening. Thor? Bucky? Y/n?’ At the sound of your name you pulled away and giggled, deciding to push away your shame and wink at Bucky, turning to face Thor with a huge grin on your face. Thor in turn grabbed Steve’s shoulder giving him a rough pat, saying ‘Don’t worry Rogers, eyes on the road’. ‘No I’m missing something here. WHAT DID YOU DO BUCKY’ Steve said as his face reddened. ‘Nothing Steve, eyes on the road’ Bucky replied, making Thor and you giggle like little children.

The rest of the journey went something like that. You sat in Bucky’s lap, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. For the first time in your life, you felt truly blissfully happy and safe.

[shushmal]

Ao3 Link in Replies

The winds are howling through the temple, a tempest within stone walls, and Katsuki can hear the angry roar of the sea against the cliffside. The rains haven’t reached him yet, and the waves haven’t surged past the shore. But Katsuki, kneeling in his finest robes, finds himself glad that he’s sent the rest of the temple’s inhabitants inland, away from the typhoon.

Vigilant, he watches the darkness, the lanterns flickering in the gale.

Katsuki had once not been so devout as to wait for the storm in his god’s shrine. Many years ago, he’d hunted the god he now worships. That seed of bloodthirst, the need for revenge on a god that had taken something precious from him as a child, had bloomed red as soon as he had been old enough to hold a sword.

The memory of a round, smiling face, his closest companion with his wide eyes and sweet touch, had watered the hatred beneath Katsuki’s skin.

They’d been only children when Izuku had been chosen as a sacrifice to the ocean god. Katsuki hadn’t understood, disgusted by his own mother’s tears when Izuku had been led away by the temple’s priests. Katsuki had followed, had waited and watched, as Izuku had been snapped up by the god, his little body swallowed behind the long white teeth of the sea dragon. And when Katsuki had screamed, the dragon had looked right at him, great head cocked to the side in open curiosity, before it took to the sky, Izuku still in its belly, no matter how hard Katsuki wailed.

“I’ll gut it,” Katsuki had hissed to his mother, weeks later and struggling from his fever bed. “I’ll gut it and get him out.”

Mitsuki had wept even as she told him, “He’s gone, Katsuki. Izuku is dead.”

“Then I’ll get his body out,” Katsuki had sworn. “And give him a proper death.”

Now, sitting in that same temple where his most precious person had once been offered up to an ocean god nearly three decades before, Katsuki is an aging man with a wandering mind.

The rain just begins to patter across the flagstone steps, when Katsuki asks the storm, “Are you going to return to me, or not?”

As if in answer, the downpour begins anew, vicious and heavy, and Katsuki can feel the mist of it where he sits before the shrine, the wisps of incense smoke blown cold.

And from the storm, the god emerges, even greater and stronger than it’d once been. It alights on the stone floor, curling it’s body beneath the temple’s shelter. In the dying light of the paper lamps, it looks at Katsuki, drinking him in, it’s eyes sharp and golden.

“Izuku,” Katsuki calls, standing.

With one step forward, with one blink, the dragon shifts, and the god stands waiting as Katsuki takes quick strides to him, his arms outstretched to meet him.

“Kacchan,” the god breathes, pressing his face into Katsuki’s shoulder, his hands into Katsuki’s back. The strength in him would be enough to bend Katsuki’s bones, but instead he is gentle, holding him tight and humming as Katsuki’s hands run through his wet curls.

“A third visit this month,” Katsuki says against the top of the god’s head, teasing, smiling with his teeth. He breathes in the smell of sea, of salt and lightning and blood. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes, I do.”

This god, Izuku, is ethereal, more beautiful than Katsuki can bare, ageless and cold. He’s not the child Katsuki remembers, with sun-darkened skin and a star map of freckles. Instead, he is a lithe body and powerful hands, a voice like a storm and ocean waves. Katsuki had once wanted to cut the heart from this Izuku, to flay him open and pull the child out.

Izuku tilts his head back, and says, “Kacchan.”

Katsuki is a devout worshipper of his god. And what his god commands, Katsuki will pray for the strength to follow.

Their kiss is familiar even as it is searing, devouring. Katsuki lets Izuku plunder him, tongue wet and thick in his mouth, instead letting his touch roam the naked expanse of Izuku’s chest, his back, his sides, his hips, fingers gripping him tightly to Katsuki front until Izuku is moaning into Katsuki’s mouth.

Gasping, Katsuki pulls back, just to drag his teeth down Izuku’s neck, his chest and belly as he goes to knees, his robes spread around them, soaked by the incoming rain. He looks up, meeting that golden gaze, as he takes Izuku between his lips.

He’d once wondered, the first time he saw his god, how much of his Izuku really remained behind that familiar face. The years have taught Katsuki not to dig at open wounds.

Instead he sucks and licks until Izuku’s hands grip Katsuki’s hair, now going white at the edges, until Izuku’s thighs are trembling against his chest, and he comes deeply down Katsuki’s throat with an inhuman howl, the sound of the wind and storm.

Boneless and sated, Izuku falls into Katsuki’s embrace when he opens his arms up, folding his body into Katsuki’s lap and letting himself be wrapped up in all of Katsuki’s finery.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, and Katsuki barely hears it over the growing typhoon. The temple should long since have been swallowed by the ocean. He can see the dark waves of the sea rising up over the cliffside, as if it’s come to meet them where they’re perched.

“And I, you,” Katsuki says against Izuku’s ear. His knees are hurting, aching with age and weather. He feels old and grizzled compared to his god’s eternal beauty, pale and perfect like an ink painting.

Izuku sits up a little straighter in Katsuki’s lap, until he’s looming over Katsuki from the circle of his arms, the silks of Katsuki’s sleeves slipping from his shoulders. His gaze is piercing, looking through and seeing the meat of Katsuki. When he speaks, it isn’t a question.

“Then, this time, you will return with me.” He says it with finality. A commandment carved into stone.

Katsuki doesn’t think long, doesn’t consider the temple and its worshippers, or the gravesites of their long dead family. Doesn’t wish to beg mercy for his life. There is nothing left in earth for Katsuki, except for a body racing to old age and death.

“If that is what you wish,” Katsuki says.

The smile Izuku gives him nearly takes his breath away, the sweet curve of it a distant memory of a man Katsuki would once have known. His eyes are alight, and for a moment, Katsuki can almost imagine the perfect shade of green they had once been.

Izuku pushes him to the stone floor, opening Katsuki’s robes, ripping away the fine silks and fabrics until the length of Katsuki’s cock is free, hot and hard despite the chill. Without hesitation, without a flinch of pain, Izuku lines himself up and presses down, until he takes all of Katsuki within him. Katsuki hisses, fingers digging into Izuku’s hips as he rides Katsuki, the burn nearly too painful, a fire of friction, and then it isn’t, the drag of Izuku around him so tight and perfect that Katsuki moans.

Bouncing in Katsuki’s lap, Izuku sets a brutal pace, his eyes bright in the near darkness of the shrine, Katsuki laid out in the remains of his holy robes, a sacrifice spread across Izuku’s altar. Katsuki is powerless to stop him, crying out as Izuku takes and takes from him, until he is spent and sweaty.

He pants for breath, his eyes squeezed shut, and trembling. It’s a moment before he realizes he can’t feel Izuku against him. It’s another when he opens his eyes to the sea dragon crouching over him, eyes locked and intent on Katsuki. He can feel the damp heat of his breath against his nude body.

“Izuku,” Katsuki whispers.

Izuku opens his great, wide mouth—

[butwhyduh]

A Little Box

Dick Grayson x reader

Christmas series 3

Warning: none?

Dick arrived back at your apartment almost late. The traffic had been awful. He pulled off his work tie and walked into your bedroom. You were putting final touches on makeup in front of a vanity. He gave you a tired smile and kissed your hair before grabbing his clothes.

He changed into a cashmere sweater that Bruce had bought him last Christmas and a nice pair of trousers. Most cops couldn’t afford anything like that and he didn’t want to stand out in Bludhaven so he had rarely worn it. But it was perfect for Wayne Manor Christmas dinner.

Dick watched as you stood up and he smiled. You really looked beautiful in a nice blue dress. “What is it, Pretty Bird?” You asked.

“Just admiring the lovely lady in front of me,” Dick said. You smiled. He was always sweet like that. He grabbed his blazer from the closet and pulled it on. You grabbed your coat as well.

The car ride was nice. Dick’s Porsche was warm and he easily maneuvered the soft snow falling on the highway. It was going to be a white Christmas after all.

Well, in Bludhaven. As you neared Gotham it changed to nasty sleet. You wanted to hold his hand but didn’t want to distract him on the nasty roads. This was his home, you reminded himself. He’d driven these roads a billion times. Bludhaven, your home, was snowy. Gotham was wet.

The size of the manor always took your breath away. And with it decked out for Christmas, it was even more beautiful. Dick parked in the giant garage that had many beautiful cars. He held your hand with one hand and slid his other in his pocket.

He felt the box. He certainly didn’t forget about it. There were other presents that he dropped off earlier in the week on a surprisingly nice weather day. But this one had his heart beating quicker.

“You okay, baby?” You asked him with a frown. He realized that he was just standing around like an idiot.

“Yeah. I’m great. Let’s get inside,” he said. You both walked into the house through a side door. There was many and each entrance was just as lovely. A side view of the main staircase framed a tree that had to be 14-16 foot tall stood proud. You could faintly smell cinnamon and some kind of roast meat. There was laughter from the main study. Pre-dinner drinks.

Bruce, Tim, his girlfriend, and Duke were having some sort of lively debate. Damian and his girlfriend were playing chess in the corner. Jason was a no show. It wasn’t a surprise. He rarely showed. And Cass was on the way. Alfred must have been in the kitchen working.

They all welcomed you both as you walked in the room. You sat on a leather couch in front of a gigantic roaring fire. Dick had his hand on your knee, gently rubbing circles.

“I am fine with books to movies but remakes need to stop,” he said. Duke all but gaped.

“I thought you liked the It movies.”

“I did. But most of the others were so bad.”

“We should remake movies that could have been great but were bad,” Tim added. “Like any video game movie pretty much. Like imagine if we started with a Spider-Man game. The movies would be awful.”

“Can we talk about how annoying it is when people think we work like Spider-Man? Like I can’t catch a bus or anything. No one acts like him,” Dick said. Tim and Duke laughed out loud.

“Bro, if there was ever a vigilante asked to ‘do a flip’ it would be you. Throwing himself off buildings to pounce on bad guys? Talks too much in fights? That’s you,” Tim said.

“I don’t-“

“Dinner is served,” Alfred said at the doorway. The conversation stopped as they all moved to the formal dinning room. You sat next to Dick and watched his beautiful profile as he continued to argue with Tim and Duke over Spider-Man. The little hairs that flopped on his forehead. The smile he kept just a moment from showing all the time.

“Hhmm,” a voice said clearing his throat. Jason stood at the doorway with a woman. She appeared nervous.

“Master Jason! You made it,” Alfred said excitedly. “I recieved your message but it’s been many years. Sit. Sit.”

The pair sat across from you and Dick and the table all stared. Jason had a date? In the years that you’d dated Dick, you’d never seen him at Christmas or with a girlfriend, much less both.

“Yeah, it’s Christmas,” he said shrugging.

“Glad you could come,” Dick said with a grin. Damian was whispering to his date. Probably telling her who the heck this man was.

A burgundy mushroom soup was served. The soft clatter of spoons was loud as everyone quietly ate. Bruce kept glancing at Jason and the woman he saw.

Cass showed before the second course was served and hugged everyone including Jason’s mysterious date before declaring that she liked her. It was nice to see everyone at once. Bruce insisted that Alfred share pudding with everyone else and the older seemed quite pleased.

Dick on the other hand was literally sweating. He was forgetful in conversation and his glass of wine lay untouched. He was thinking of that little heavy box in his pocket. He’d talked to you about marriage. You’d had those late night conversations about marriage and children and the future. It wasn’t a surprise that you’d both considered marriage. But to ask in front of his entire family was scary. On Christmas too. He considered chickening out.

“Dick, are you okay? You kinda spaced on us,” you said, putting a hand on his knee. He sat up and smiled. But his eyes were still a little too wide to be casual.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. This was a great time to do this. A sign from god some would say as the entire family was watching him. His fingers moved rapidly over the box in his pocket.

“Actually,” Dick said a little too loudly. “I... uh, I have a question.”

If everyone wasn’t watching him before, they damn sure was now. You looked at him confused as he took your hand. He was literally panting. “Lovebird, babe. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, feeling almost uncomfortable with the attention of the whole table. He wasn’t drunk so what was wrong with him? Cass grinned widely and covered her mouth. Of course, she understood Dick’s body language instantly.

“We’ve kinda talked about this before so I hope it’s not too much of a surprise. But I’d like to talk about forever. Will you marry me,” Dick asked. His blue eyes were so wide and he looked a mess.

“Will I marry you?” You asked shocked like an idiot.

“Oh god, I have a ring,” he said pulling it out of his pocket and handing you the box. You opened it and looked at the ring. “Please say something,” Dick pleaded. The table watched. They couldn’t turn away if they wanted to.

“Yes! Yes,” you said grabbing his face.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you answered and he kissed you quickly. The table broke out in applause. Dick pulled back slightly to look in your eyes. He clumsily slid the ring on your finger. It was so pretty in the candlelight from the table.

Alfred appeared at the table with champagne a few minutes later and everyone got a glass. Even Damian and his date got a tiny amount for a toast.

You and Dick sat close together all night and you honestly couldn’t tell what anyone else said or did as you just wanted to be with him. It was early in the evening that you retired to his old room as the storm had gotten too bad for a drive back to Bludhaven. No one could blame the love birds for wanting alone time.

[lady-divine-writes]

The Hitchhiker - Chapter 1/4

Picking up a hitchhiker isn't exactly the dumbest thing Kurt has ever done, but it's not exactly the smartest either. When he comes across Blaine Anderson caught in a sudden downpour, he can't just leave him on the corner to drown... can he? (1756 words)

Read on AO3.

“Excuse me? Sir? Do you need a ride?”

Kurt flashes as confident and honest a smile as he can to the man standing on the side of the road. But the second those words leave his mouth, he hears his father’s voice in his head yelling: “Kurt Hummel! What the hell are you doing? Picking up a hitchhiker? Are you out of your mind!?”

And Kurt has to admit, the voice is right. 

There is a fifty-fifty chance that this man, standing alone in the dark by the side of the road, is a violent serial killer. His outfit alone perpetuates the stereotype - indigo jeans, white t-shirt, leather jacket. He has an olive-green duffel slung over one shoulder and he's carrying a guitar case, for God’s sake! What are the odds that there’s actually a guitar in there!? If Kurt picks this man up, he has a greater chance of becoming a statistic than of that man being a musician! Kurt should drive away now without an inch of guilt, floor it without looking back.

And he probably would have deferred to his better judgment and stepped on the gas had it not been for a few things. 

It's pitch dark out for a start. Only a handful of street lights line the curb, installed twenty or so feet apart, which creates long expanses of shadow in between. The road they're on is in the middle of nowhere, with trees towering on both sides of them. This doesn’t help Kurt’s argument any since it seems like just the place a killer would lie in wait for a potential victim. But, in that same vein, someone or something could be stalking him, waiting for Kurt to drive away so they can pounce on him from the trees. Then it would be up to the reach of this man's legs and his athletic ability to save him.

This leads directly to reason two: the man is a klutz. In the five minutes Kurt has been stuck at this red light, he’s seen him smack himself in the face with his own bag, drop his sunglasses (pink rimmed Wayfarers, no less), catch them, then fumble them again, and step in the same puddle twice. If this man is a serial killer, he may not be the most competent one on the planet. 

Three, just as Kurt’s light turned green, it started raining. And not the light drizzle he has come to expect during his infrequent forays to San Diego, but an honest-to-God downpour. Kurt saw the man turn his face up to the sky, his shoulders slumped, wholly defeated by this new development. He put the butt of his guitar case on the toes of his shoes to keep it out of the mud, then attempted to wrap his jacket around it.

And Kurt’s heart melted. 

Kurt is a musician himself. Singer more than musician but he has friends who play the guitar. His stepbrother Finn owns a Fender that he sold plasma to afford. Puck's Gibson is the only thing he has never hawked when he needed money. And Sam, in this man's position, would take off every stitch of clothing to protect his Blueridge if it came down to it. Kurt can imagine this man’s whole life wrapped up in that case, which he is now convinced does hold a guitar.

Kurt isn't a gun enthusiast by any means, but he thinks a semi-automatic should be able to withstand some weather. He may want to Google that one later on… provided he’s still alive.

And about that guitar case: it isn’t a plain, generic, black guitar case. The thing is covered in travel stickers and bling. It has a personality all its own. An easily identifiable personality. If this man is a killer, Kurt is pretty certain every human on the West Coast would know about it. He’d be nicknamed the Kitsch Case Killer or something along those lines. That case sticks out like a sore thumb. There’s no way a man carrying a guitar case decorated like an old-school Lisa Frank binder is getting away with swiping a pack of gum, not to mention murder.

To a lesser degree (Kurt tells himself so he doesn't have to admit how idiotic this idea is), this is the most a-dork-able man Kurt has ever seen. He looks more like a puppy than a predator (weak reasoning, he knows). But Kurt has instincts about people that are usually on the money. He has to give himself credit for making it this far in life. Kurt is tougher than he looks. He has taken his fair share of licks, and he’s still ticking. 

Plus, he has bear repellent in the pocket of his jacket the size of a can of Aquanet. He feels he has his bases covered.

The man walks slowly towards Kurt's car, the curls piled atop his head hanging heavily down his cheeks the wetter he gets.

No, Kurt can’t leave him out here.

“Um. Thanks. Thanks a lot,” the man says, cautiously eyeing Kurt up and down as if he may be asking himself Kurt’s same string of questions in his head. “But I… ” The fact that he isn’t jumping at Kurt’s offer, that he’s glancing anxiously down the road, mulling his options even as rain pours down his back, puts Kurt at ease. The man looks like he’s trying to gauge if Kurt might have a weapon hiding somewhere on his person, contemplating if he’ll come out of this alive if he accepts this ride. 

Ironic, but that proves that there are two sides to every situation.

The man looks about to step away and decline until a fork of lightning turns night into day for five seconds, a boom so loud following it shakes Kurt’s rental car. 

“Sure. Okay. Why not?” He pulls open the rear door in a rush but still wary as he puts his belongings into the backseat and joins Kurt in the front. “Thank you so much. I didn’t expect it to rain this hard, or I might have stayed in my hotel room one more night.” He runs a hand through his hair, cringing at the water that sprays the headrest.

“Not a problem.” Kurt reaches behind the seat and grabs the towel he’d fished out of his luggage earlier when he’d done the same thing. But the rain was only a sprinkle then – angel spittle, his mom would have called it. “I couldn’t just drive by and leave you out here to drown.”

The man chuckles. It, much like the rest of him, is too cute for words. “My name’s Blaine.”

“Kurt.” Kurt extends a hand for Blaine to shake. Blaine looks at it, hesitates a second before taking it, still questioning Kurt and his intentions, Kurt assumes. Despite being stuck in the rain, Blaine’s hand is warm, comforting in a way Kurt speculates a serial killer’s hands would not. “Well, Blaine, where you headed?”

“Oh, uh… I’m trying to make my way to L.A. But you can drop me off anywhere between here and there.”

“Ooo. Actor? Producer?”

“Unemployed schlub, unfortunately. Currently riding my brother’s couch. He’s the actor. I’m the… the failure.”

Kurt pulls onto the road again and heads for the highway. “That’s a really unkind thing to say about yourself.”

“It’s what… well, it’s what my father would say.” He wrings his hands uncomfortably. “He’d also say I’m a disappointment, a waste of a Harvard education, a bum… ” He shivers. Kurt raises the temperature of the heater. Blaine glances at Kurt in embarrassment, and Kurt gets the hint that it’s not the cold that has him trembling.

“I know it’s not my place to say, but I’d stop listening to your father if I were you. It doesn’t seem like he has anything worthwhile to say.”

“How can you say that? You don’t even know me,” Blaine says under his breath, with an edge like a growl, the kind wild animals give when you stumble into their territory unaware. It sets the hairs on the back of Kurt’s neck on end, and he starts second-guessing this decision. 

Relax, Kurt. The man’s just beat down. Exhausted. You understand what that’s like.

Blaine sighs, sinking into the passenger seat and leaning his head against the window. "I'm sorry. I know you're trying to be nice. It's been a long day." 

“I understand. And I may not know you, but I know fathers," Kurt continues. "A father’s job is to be supportive of their children, no matter what they do in life. Succeed or fail, win or lose, they should always be in your corner. And if he’s not, screw him! Surround yourself with people who want to lift you up, not tear you down.”

Blaine winds his arms around his torso, hugging himself tight. “I---is that the way your father treats you?”

“Yup,” Kurt answers with a subconscious smile at the mention of his dad. “He supports me in everything, even the stuff he doesn’t entirely agree with. And when things don’t work out, he’s the first person there, helping me to my feet and encouraging me to try again.”

“Sounds like a great guy. You’re lucky.”

“He is," Kurt says proudly. "And I am.”

Blaine fixes his gaze to the road ahead as Kurt merges onto the highway. He chews the inside of his cheek, stares too hard at the rain-slick asphalt, not shifting focus. It's as if he can't bring himself to look at Kurt when he asks, “So, you think you’re a good judge of character?”

Kurt nods. “Yes, I do."

"How do you know?"

"Experience. I have a decent track record.”

"Surround yourself with a lot of questionable people, do you?"

"I guess you can say that," Kurt agrees with a laugh, thinking of the people who have come into his life that he has adopted as his own: Rachel, Dave, Santana, Puck, all of them rivals or bullies. Or both. But now, a cherished part of his found family.

People he hopes will miss him if SDPD finds him by the side of the road tomorrow with his throat cut.

Stop it, Kurt! Relax! You're in no danger! Everything is going to be fine!

Blaine shrugs, examining his wet hands as if he’s reading something etched on his skin. “Someday you’ll be wrong.”

“Probably." Kurt meets Blaine's eyes in the reflection of the windshield, flashes his confident smile again. "But I don’t think that day is today.”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Pumpkin Kiss (Monoma x Reader)

Pairing: Monoma x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Prompt: Fall with Monoma, wither, pumpkin pie, hayride (I used all three ayee)

Summary: Class 1-A and 1-B take a trip to the local fall festival where Monoma starts acting more zealous than normal.

Word count: 1,555

Tags: @rintomoj @yamichxn @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Ahhh the fall entry for the Seasonal Love Event.  With Fall, we’ve reached the last 2 days of the event...  I really hope I did Monoma justice with this, it’s my first time writing a 1-B character, but I tried to inject as much fluff as I could into it so it’s sweet (like pumpkin pie, hehe)

Seasonal Love Event Masterlist

"I think Monoma's being crazier than usual today," Kendo comments, munching on her kettle corn.

"Wonder if he's on edge about something?" Pony also perks up.  There's syrup smudged cutely over her lips from the caramel apple she's eating.  She's in absolute childish bliss picking on it.

"It's probably about you," Tetsutetsu says bluntly, his gaze directed straight at me.

"Why would any of his dramatic episodes have to do with me?" I snort as all of them direct their attention after his remark.

"Because even right now he's staring straight at you from across the field."  Ibara nods her chin over behind me.  "I also believe he must be put off by something."  I don't miss how she mumbles under her breath about him possibly needing an exorcism because of the sudden change.

"I'm really tired of having to chop his ass every two seconds.  It's like he forgot how to act all of a sudden."  The orange-haired girl rolls her eyes and hands me the half-full bag.  "Have the rest, I'm full."

I figured she wouldn't be able to eat all of it.  Kendo openly gaped at how generous the bag of kettle corn was when she bought it and - wrongly - proclaimed she'd be able to finish it.  I was correct to not buy anything and wait for her to give up.

Kirishima strolls over to greet Tetsutetsu with their secret handshake - no one really knows when they came up with such an elaborate routine, it just happened - before flashing his sharp teeth at me next.  "Hey, Bakugou, Sero, and I are gonna go hit up the carnival games, you wanna come with?"

"Sure, I wouldn't mind-"

"Uh, no, I don't think so."

The atmosphere suddenly fills with vexation as we all know who's voice that is.  The blond stomps over from behind Kirishima and crosses his arms over his chest.  How did he even hear that from across the field?  Was he eavesdropping or was he already slowly making his way over like the creeper he's become today?

"(Y/n) doesn't need to be hanging around you pompous, fake heroes."  I can practically hear the way he looks down his nose at Kirishima, thought there's a bit more edge.  "We provide enough company and enjoyment by ourselves, you're not needed."

I want to roll my eyes.  And why should I let this fool decide who I should hang out with?

"Besides, we all wanted to go on the h-hayride together," he concludes, sounding indignant until he stutters.

Monoma stuttered?

"Oh!  I think that would be so fun!"  Pony's eyes shine as she claps in joy.  "That's actually a pretty good idea, Monoma!"

"Yeah, it was the first intelligent thing you've said all day," Kendo jabs at him.

Kirishima shrugs and flashes an unbothered smile at me.  "We can hang another time then.  See you around!"  After bidding goodbye to me and Tetsutetsu, he jogs off to find the rest of his crew.

I whirl onto the blond and point a finger at his face.  "Don't try to control me and my friends, I do what I want."

Monoma flicks his hair casually, disregarding everything I just said.  "But I had a great idea, didn't I?  A much better one than just playing silly carnival games."

"Carnival games are fun, you know!  It's not just sitting on a stack of hay twiddling your thumbs!"

"But it would be relaxing, don't you think?" Pony chirps, her eyes still twinkling at the thought.

I don't have the heart to deflate her excitement.  "Yeah, I guess you're right," is my meek assent.  Though, I don't think it would be ll that relaxing considering the crisp weather we're experiencing.  Relaxation is more for summer I'd say, not fall with the withering colored leaves.

We make our way over to the hayride plain, Ibara deciding to leave in favor of taking some scenic pictures of the surrounding leaves.  There are only two carts and five of us, so we decide to split into a group of three and a pair.

"Kendo's the only one who can handle Monoma, so they should be together," Tetsutetsu suggests.  "I'll go with Pony and (Y/n)-"

"Uh, no way!" Kendo interrupts, a clearly displeased sneer morphing her features.  "Just because I can handle him doesn't mean I want to sit near him for at least 20 minutes."

"I have to agree," the boy in question pipes up.  "Besides, I'd rather be with (Y/n) who's nicer to me."

An unspoken hangs for the briefest moment after he said that, everyone glancing at me before Kendo shrugs.  "Welp, fine by me."

Aw come on.

Before I can complain, the three of them get into their hay-covered cart and get themselves comfortable.

"Shall we get going then?" Monoma questions in his over-dramatic way, sweeping his hand toward our own cart.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with," I mumble.

We mount ourselves onto the wagon.  Some of the hay is soft enough that it doesn't poke into me.  Once the horses start moving, the gentle rocking of the wagon is somewhat comforting.  I try to relax and ignore my partner, hoping he'll get the hint that I don't want him to talk as I lay my back against the floor.

"Pie?"

I peek an eye open to see an aluminum container hovering above my face.  I sit up and stare at Monoma questioningly.  "Where did you get this?"  Judging from the dark orange color, it's pumpkin pie.

"While you guys were discussing arrangements, I bought some for us to eat."  He places it in my lap before opening the clear lid on his own.  "Since you said there was nothing to do on a hayride, I gave us something to do."

Cautiously, I roll up and open the container.  "You didn't poison this, right?"

He waves his hand at me.  "Why would I do that?"

It's not that I don't trust him, I'm just wary of his behavior today and him being kind while choosing me to ride with is slightly unsettling.  Yet, I know he wouldn't hurt me and I appreciate the gesture, so I open it and take a bite.  The natural sweetness of the pumpkin dancing on my tongue while the crust has just enough texture to balance the softness of the middle.

Monoma's eyebrows furrow minutely.  "I also didn't want you to regret riding with me instead of the others."

I raise my own brow.  "I'd only regret it if you started your bullshit."

He levels his periwinkle gaze at me.  "Do you prefer Tetsutetsu and 1-A to me?"

I'm taken back by his question.  "Just maybe for fun, when you're in your moods about them I guess.  You're my classmate, not them.  And Tetsutetsu is fun to hang out with.  I prefer just talking to you like this."

"Oh.  I see."  He looks down at his half eaten pie.

Past his head, I observe a line of pumpkins decorating the road and laugh at one of the more irregularly formed ones.  "Are they sure that's a pumpkin?"

Monoma turns his head around and lets out a chuckle.  "I think the irregular ones taste sweeter."

"You don't say?"

I finish the rest of my own in silence, stealing glances at the boy's contemplative expression. He's actually quite handsome, anyone would fall at his feet if he weren't such an uptight pain in the ass most of the time. Pretty hair, pretty eyes, pretty face, even a strong quirk - he just needs to work on his attitude.

"Hey," his head lifts up and meets my probing eyes, only for his words to catch when he notices how I've leaned slightly forward.

The fork still frozen in my mouth as I hold it, I maintain his gaze and hum, waiting for his question.

A sudden brush of pink dusts his cheeks and he rubs his hand. "You said like my company, right?"

"Yeah, I do." My voice gets softer, chest pounding in anticipation for what's coming next.

Monoma coughs with the difficulty of formulating his words. It's endearing to see him struggle instead of being overzealous. "I-I like your company too," he rushes out like ripping off a band-aid.  "In more ways than one.  I'm trying to say I like you."  With every word, his face saturates in more and more color.

A tenderness wells up inside me as I process his confession.  Monoma being out of character towards me proves the sincerity of his words, or at least the fact that his feelings for me are more special than the rest.

In a spur of the moment, I lean over and plant a light kiss on his cheek.  The response I got was priceless: scarlet blood flowing straight to his ears as he clears his throat to regain his composure.  Until he catches me off guard and counters with another kiss that barely misses the corner of my lip, causing my own embarrassed warmth to flood through me and butterflies to gather in my belly.  The sweetness from the pumpkin pie he ate lingers there when I swipe my tongue over to wet my suddenly parched lips.

"So, do we agree to spend more time with each other?" Monoma attempts sounding calm and collected.

I shuffle over closer to him, our fingers brushing together.  "Yes, I'd like that."

Monoma's like that weird shaped pumpkin in a way.  He doesn't present as the best outwardly, but he's sweeter if you decide to take a bite.

[definitelynotkatesblog]

Beg ∣ Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: Hi, friends! This is my first time writing a fanfic piece, so of course it had to be for my love, Dr. Spencer Reid! This literally started out as a blurb in the notes app in my phone of maybe.... one line of dialogue?

Also, I am ready and willing to receive feedback! Please enjoy! 

If this opening scene was in a movie, the opening lines of Me & Mr. Jones by Amy Winehouse would be playing.

Nobody stands

In between me and my man

Me and Mr. Jones

(Me and Mr. Jones)

What kind of fuckery is this?

Category: Smut (and some cuteness at the end)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Dom!Spencer, PostPrison!Spencer, bondage, unprotected penetrative sex, con/non con, safe word mention (not used, just mentioned), mention of overstimulation, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, indication of sub-drop? (then after care).

Word count: 3.0k 

Prison had changed Spencer. Obviously. Your once timid, tightly wound, germaphobe genius was now eerily patient, quicker to react, and able to eat in group settings with less hesitation. He was also more dominant with you in and out of the bedroom- just more assertive in general. Even his coworkers at the BAU mentioned his demeanor had changed when working on cases.

You had assumed it was due to him not feeling in control for those months he was property of the prison, and needing to exert his control in other aspects once he could eat and sleep on his own schedule. 

Before Spencer had gone away, your sex life was great- he was always sweet and attentive but rough when he needed to be. It was a mirror of his personality. 

Though you’d never know the extent of what happened in those concrete walls- and you’d never actually say this to Spencer- you weren’t terribly upset about the changes that resulted in the man who came out on the other end.

This man was more primally need-driven, more calloused and hungry than the Spencer you knew before. His words became fewer while his actions spoke volumes. He devoured you like you were his last meal on earth every time his hands were on you, like he was afraid this time might be the last time you two would be together. 

 His hands were more strong and confident with his touches, his mouth and movements more sure. Gone were the hesitant questions asked by fingers skimmed lightly over skin, and here to stay were imprints left from sure grips, unafraid to show signs of possession. 

His hunger and drive, these new deeper and darker urges had also allowed you to come out of your sex-shell. You weren’t afraid to ask for things that you feared my have intimidated Spencer before. There wasn’t anything you couldn’t ask for and nothing he wouldn’t do to you, for you. Did it make sense to trust him more now that he’d gone to prison?

You knew his newfound desires could be a sense of shame for him, but you wouldn’t let them be. If anything, you wanted him to be the one he explored them with more than anything. 

You rose to the challenge and arrived on the other side victorious- usually in a sweaty heap of bliss.

******

Murder in your eyes, you watched him cross the room to fasten your wrist in the restraint dangling from the bedpost. 

Once he was satisfied you wouldn’t be able to move from your slightly spread eagle position, he rounded the corner back to the foot of the bed, leaning forward to place his palms on the soft duvet, just staring. 

“Comfortable?” he asked nonchalantly, like he was asking about the fucking weather. 

You tried to lunge forward, but the restraints at your wrists quickly snapped you back, reminding you of what a not great idea that was. The fabric stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag caught most of the profanities you spat at him and turned them into nonsense. 

He chuckled and shook his head, “Glad to hear it.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the rise and fall of your chest quickening as you realized the gravity of the situation- you really couldn’t get out of these restraints. And you really weren’t sure if you wanted to. 

“Do you know why I like when you’re tied up?”

Attempting to keep your face as stoic as possible, you offered no reaction and turned your head away from him, opting to look at the artwork on the wall instead.��

“Because when you’re tied up, you can’t get in my way of taking what I want.” His voice was level and low, speaking matter of factly. 

At this statement, you couldn’t help but throw him an incredulous look and an over-the-top eye roll.  

“And you can’t stop me from fucking you and making you cum as many times as it takes to break you,” he continued. 

The idea of that kind of delirious pleasure instantly caused a pool of heat to flood your lower belly, spreading through your veins. 

He made his way around to the side of the bed, watching your face with a thoughtful expression. 

His hand caressed the side of your face, cupping your cheek before forming a strong grip on your jaw. You tried keeping your face turned away, but were quickly humbled by the sharp turn of his wrist. 

Your eyes searched his, trying to determine how much truth there was in his statements. 

“Do you remember your safe words?” he asked softly. 

You nod, flexing your wrists against their restraints, and mumble around the fabric in your mouth. “Yeyow ng wed” you sighed, feigning annoyance. 

“Good. And if your mouth is full?” he prompted. 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your fingers for ‘yellow’ and snapping them for ‘red’. 

He hummed and left his position at your side and returned to the foot of the bed, content with your answers.

He crawled up on the bed and pulled your legs towards opposite sides of the bed with enough room between them for him to sit on his knees. 

You watched as he brought a hitachi wand from behind his back and place it in your line of sight. Your eyes narrowed, trying to unravel his plan. 

Suddenly his words made a lot more sense- You can’t get in the way. Make you cum as many times as I want. 

His finger traced the line between your clit and quickly dampening entrance, teasing with the lightest amount of pressure.

Your hips involuntarily made almost indiscernible movements to increase the friction, but with each movement, he would stop his ministrations and scold you with a ‘tsk tsk’.

His thumb found its way to your clit, drawing slow languid circles through the thin fabric. You tried your best to appear unbothered, but the fabric in your mouth wasn’t doing enough to stifle the whimpers slipping from your throat. 

“I bet if I checked right now, you’d be a wet fucking mess. Is that right?”

Even though you’d been betrayed by your body, you opted to test your luck with shaking your head no. 

“Hmmmm, see, I don’t think that’s quite right.”

His hands found their way to the edges of your panties and dragged them down your hips, thighs, knees and eventually off your body. 

Suddenly feeling very exposed, you pressed your knees together in an attempt to salvage your remaining dignity- well, what was left, after being bound to a fucking bed. 

He shook his head and placed a hand on each knee and forced them apart, staring at the apex of your thighs. His tongue poked out and made a quick sweep of his lower lip.

You knew, you just fucking knew you were in fact a wet mess, despite your best efforts to resist being turned on by the nonchalant, condescending, cocky fucking asshole he was being. 

He half smiled and chuckled, looking back up at your face. 

“Oh baby, was I right.” With that, he took a single finger and collected evidence of your arousal and brought it up to your eye level as proof. 

Without breaking eye contact, he popped the finger into his mouth, making a show of swirling his tongue around it, hollowing his cheeks, and slowly pulling it out of his mouth with a slight moan. 

Your eyes narrowed, a mixture of humiliation and raw attraction driving a fire to ignite and course through your veins. 

“God, you taste so fucking good.” he said slowly, emphasizing each word. 

Quickly returning his hand between your thighs, he dipped inside for a moment with one finger before adding another. 

The intrusion was dreadfully delicious, your hips bucking in an attempt to ride his fingers. An involuntary moan escaped your throat, muffled by the gag. 

Spencer started lazily thrusting into you, curling his fingers to meet just the right spot every time. The slow pace was agonizing- your head falling back, begging the gods above for him to grant you some sort of mercy. 

 Your head fell forward with a drawn out groan. Every time you tried to created more speed or friction, he would slow down or stop completely. 

You let out a frustrated whine, knitting your brows together to convey your displeasure with the pace he’d chosen.

Without warning, Spencer ’s fingers started plunging into you at a brutal pace, eliciting a surprised squeak and heavy pants from your lips. 

The muscles in your core tightened, your wrists pulling against the restraints as the breathy pants became moans of anticipation. 

The slow burn in your core continued to build, rushing to beat him before he decided to stop again.Your walls began convulsing around his fingers, indicating your impending orgasm.

Then, just as quickly as his fingers were there, they weren’t. Your eyes shot open, immediately searching for his. 

“Oh, did you think I was going to let you cum that easily?”

If looks could kill, he’d be one dead motherfucker. 

“I don’t think you deserve to cum yet, baby. I don’t think you want it bad enough”

Spencer’s other hand came to rest just above your mound, applying pressure on your lower belly while his thumb started circling your clit once more.

Between the deep pressure, stimulation on your clit and his relentless fingers fucking you blind, you were about to explode. Silent sobs left your chest, no air in your lungs made for a hard time breathing.

“I want to hear you beg me to fuck you” he said, his voice low and dark.

Reaching up, he removed the fabric from your mouth, tossing it to the side. 

“Beg.” 

“Fuck you,” you spat. Knuckle deep or not, there was no way you were giving in to him.

Arching an eyebrow he shook his head, reaching to his side, pulling something white into the space between his knees.

Your eyes widened at the hitachi wand in front of him, then darted to his face in an attempt to find any indication of his intention.

He climbed off the bed to remove his pajama pants. From your compromised position you had the perfect eye line to watch his dick strain against the waistband of his pants before springing free. 

Your bottom lip found itself between your teeth as a means of controlling the drool pooling in your mouth. Spencer’s laugh drew your eyes up his body until your eyes met. 

Pumping his fist a few times over his already hard cock, he climbed back onto the bed and towards you, gathering some of your wetness with the tip of his cock before positioning himself to enter you. 

Before he moved, a wicked grin flashed across his face as he reached for the wand and turned it on to its first setting, pressing it gently to the top of the hood of your clit. The introduction of the direct stimulation on your clit made every muscle in your body tense, white hot adrenaline coursing through your veins.

His thumb guided him to realign with your entrance, and he wasted no time with teasing. He quickly sheathed himself inside of you, now pressing the wand’s vibrations head deeper into your folds. 

God you wanted to fucking scream, but all that came out was a whorish moan. Your hands instinctively made a move to remove the source of the overstimulation, but were quickly reminded that wouldn’t be possible by the strain against your wrists. 

Your walls tightened around him, encouraging him to bottom out with each thrust. His aggression and moans mixed with curses let you know he was thoroughly enjoying himself. 

“Should I let you cum too?” 

His relentless thrusts did not show signs of slowing, and his clenched jaw and flared nostrils made him look, well... criminal. 

A quick flick of his wrist caused the wand to hit a sweet spot- eliciting a squeal. He pressed the buzzing head harder against the spot, wiggling it ever so slightly. Your hands formed fists as your head thrashed to the side, craning your neck- your breath hitched and came in short, shallow breaths as your body prepared to be pushed over the edge into bliss. 

That was, until Spencer removed the wand from its promising position, tossing it onto the bed beside your leg. The sound of buzzing against the sheets was dull in the background as your head swam at the loss.

In a swift motion, his arms hooked under your knees and pulled your bottom closer to the edge of the bed as far as your wrist restraints would let you. A surprised squeak left your lips as his hands positioned your ankles by his ears. 

This new position allowed him deeper access, hitting your cervix with each thrust. This new sensation caused your head to fall back against the pillow and eyes to squeeze shut. 

Quickly grabbing the wand from beside him, he matched the movement of the wand with the patterns of his thrusts, making it difficult to tell where the pleasure started and ended.

“Please please please I want to so bad,” you begged, “Oh my god, please!”

“Hmmm, want to or need to?” he asked quickly, chasing his own orgasm.  

“FUCK, need! I need to! Please I need to cum, please Spencer!”

“Cum.” It was one word, but enough to be your undoing. 

Your walls clenched around him as your hips buckled against the head of the wand. 

Your heels dug into his shoulders beneath you, arching your back off the sheets as he buried himself deeper into you. 

Air burned your lungs as they tried to force enough oxygen in between pants, a moan ripping the rest of the air from your chest. The waves crashed into you, over and over making up for lost time. 

Fire raced through your veins, curling your toes and causing your hands to form shaking fists in their tethered positions. You cried out senselessly for him to stop. 

“Good girl,” he cooed. “One more.”

You shook your head vigorously, unable to even able to wrap your head around cumming again.

“Yes,” he said. There was no room or invitation for argument. 

Voiceless pants left your throat, your mouth dry from gasping for air.

Your eyes begged Spencer to give you just a moment to breathe, which he promptly ignored. 

Setting the wand to its next highest setting, Spencer’s thrusts found a faster pace. 

His name came out between mangled moans and broken sobs. 

“Cum for me baby, come on,” he forced out between clenched teeth. You knew he had to be close too.

Your second orgasm tacked on to the tail end of the first and possessed your body with more power than you thought possible. The vibrations racked through your body leaving flames in its wake until you couldn’t register your body as your own anymore.

The feeling of Spencer throbbing inside of you, emptying himself only added to the pleasure, your walls continuing to milk him. 

Involuntary sobs escaped your lips as you came down, Spencer’s thrusts slowing, the wand returned to its lowest setting-allowing you to ride the rest of your wave down to planet Earth. 

Watching your chest heave, gasping for more air, he removed the wand from your clit and slowly withdrew himself from you.

Sweat glistened on your forehead, your cheeks flushed and hair disheveled, now dripping a mixture of your releases.  

“God you’re so fucking beautiful” he murmured, kissing the inside of your calf before gently removing your ankles from his shoulders and placing them on the bed. 

After a few moments, an overwhelming wave of emotion crashed over your body causing tears to spring to your eyes. Your lip quivered, but you bit it between your teeth in an attempt to collect yourself. 

“Shh shh shh,” he said, quickly undoing the restraints at your wrists and pulling a blanket from the foot of the bed around you. He sat on the bed and pulled you into his chest, his legs around your body with your legs thrown over one of his, gently rocking the both of you. 

“You did so good, baby. So good,” he said kissing the top of your head. 

You didn’t have any witty or snarky remarks for him. The hot tears slid down your cheeks as you pulled the edges of the blanket tighter around your body. 

His hand rubbed big, soothing circles into your back while he tucked your head under his chin. 

You pushed the blanket off your shoulders, needing to be closer to him than you currently were. He watched you turn and straddle his waist, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck- grabbing your opposite elbows to bury your face in his neck. 

He let you settle before wrapping his arms around your back, hugging you closer to his chest. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said matter of factly between dropping kisses on the top of your head. 

You hummed in response, too tired for real words. 

He held you for a few more minutes, rubbing your back with small circles and offering praise. 

“Do you want to take a now bath, baby?”

You grumbled a sound of protest into his neck and felt his body shake with a laugh. 

You always wanted to take a bath, baths with Spencer were your favorite thing. But at this moment you were blissfully content and unwilling to move. 

He pulled you two apart for a moment to look at your face. Brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear, he inspected your face for any residual tears.

 Your eyes met his and found a softness in his eyes you didn’t think was possible from the man who had just teased, edged and fucked you so thoroughly. 

“Five more minutes,” he conceded, kissing your forehead. 

You nodded and nestled back into your spot, pressing your lips into the side of his neck.

———

Tell me all about it!

[brattyfics]

Cape Disappointment | Part One

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x Black!OC [Chantel Williams]

Summary: Miguel doesn’t rescue a damsel in distress because Chantel Williams is not a damsel in distress.

Warnings: None yet.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things. Quirky, witty, sarcastic. Condescending, impulsive, sometimes even chaotic. She could be all those things and more, but she refused to be anyone’s victim.

“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m not a damsel in distress…” She chanted over and over in a low tone. 

On the side of a low traffic road, snow raining down on her head, Chantel willed the words to be true. Unfortunately, she remembered very little of what her Papa taught her about cars, eyeing the confusing parts under the hood with frustration.

Papa was a school teacher but he worked as a shade tree mechanic on the weekends to be able to afford dance classes for little Chantel. Teaching was his passion through and through. He would talk her ear off in the car on the way to recitals or while she did homework on the bench in his workshop. Being a bratty kid, she learned to tune him out when the topic didn’t interest her and not for the first time she regretted not soaking up more of Papa’s wisdom before he passed. 

If she had, maybe she wouldn’t be stuck on the side of the road with no solution in mind. Empty handed and no closer to fixing the car, she shuffled through the snow. It wasn’t much warmer inside the car despite the thick North Face coat she wore with a matching hat and pair of gloves. She was sure she resembled a wet dog as she shook the snow off, not wanting the ice to melt into water droplets that would surely sting. 

Just a week earlier, she’d splurged on the fanciest new smart phone after losing the older model at a dinner party. Even with all its promised features, it was useless. No signal and no nearby WiFi networks to connect to meant she couldn’t call her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend for help even if she wanted to. She couldn’t even call a tow truck! 

Pride. 

Another one of Chantel’s many traits. She liked to think of it as a positive thing. It kept her from being desperate, saved her from being dependent on others for her happiness. No one else seemed to agree her pride was a good thing. 

Among the naysayers was her sort-of-sometimes boyfriend, Adam. Pride was what had led her to take off from the Yurt they shared on their week-long winter break getaway to race back to her industrial loft in the heart of Seattle despite the weather advisory. She would never admit it to anyone else, but she realized her pride didn’t always serve her well. 

If not for her bruised ego, it would have been funny that her car had chosen to break down a few miles north of Cape Disappointment State Park. It was where she had been staying with Adam. The yurt was too far away to walk back to in the snow but still close enough that it only made sense to stay there for the night once the car issues were resolved. She wasn’t looking forward to ending the night with him. 

Remembering Papa’s belief in God showing up when most needed, Chantel sent up a quick prayer. She really hoped she wouldn’t have to wait long for someone else to come down the otherwise deserted road. Winters in Washington were fairly mild so she wouldn’t lose her extremities to hypothermia or anything crazy like that, but she’d certainly suffer by way of the shivers. 

Any sane person was cuddled up next to the fireplace in their cabin with a bowl of chili, or participating in heat-inducing sexual activities in their yurt to keep warm, not on the road driving. It was only natural for her thoughts to snowball into all the types of un-same people she could run into. 

Indigenous women from Washington and Canada went missing far too often on roads just like the one she had so conveniently broken down on. Chantel had a bad habit of researching everything there was to know about topics when they peaked her interest and she knew too much about human trafficking in the area to not feel a considerable amount of fear. 

“That would be my luck.” She muttered meanly to herself, resolving that whatever happened would be her own fault. 

It wasn’t like a whole lot of people would come looking for her anyway. She had a large group of friends in Seattle, but she kind of had a reputation for taking off without saying much. She hadn’t even told anyone about the weekend excursion to Cape Disappointment! The family she had left she wasn’t close to, and by the time Adam realized she hadn’t made it back home it would be too late. 

Yellow headlights bathed the narrow road, the light blinding her the closer it got. Her hazard lights blinked red, signaling that she was broken down, but Chantel second guessed whether she wanted the help. 

“I’m going to be a sex trafficking victim all in the name of independence. Way to go, idiot.” 

Her fingers fumbled around in the gigantic backpack she’d been using as a purse for the weekend, hastily pulling at the zippers until she found what she was looking for. A purple taser she purchased on Amazon for a whopping ten dollars. She doubted it would stop anyone in their tracks, but it was better than nothing. 

It turned out the man who knocked on her window wasn’t an axe wielding serial murdering rapist, or at least he didn’t appear to be. She tucked the small device into her side as the ridiculously handsome middle aged man with a salt and pepper beard smiled at her through the foggy glass. 

He looked harmless enough, sporting a pair of smart designer glasses and what Chantel knew to be a really expensive cashmere turtleneck sweater underneath an equally expensive Canada Goose coat. She wasn’t shy about looking him up and down as she assessed the risk. What if the male model was a decoy?

His neatly manicured eyebrows twisted down in confusion and she thought it was one of the cutest things she had ever seen. 

She rolled down the window with a nervous smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” 

She hated how breathy the words came out but he was truly stunning. 

Tall, fit, well-dressed. 

“Are you alright? It looks like you’re having some trouble.” 

A gentleman.

“What would make you think that?” Chantel spoke before she thought it through, but the stranger didn’t seem to take offense if the amused smirk on his face could be trusted. “I’m kidding. Yeah, no. I’m not alright. The car was making weird noises so I pulled over and now it won’t turn back on. I looked under the hood but I have no idea what’s wrong.”

He nodded attentively while she spoke, watching her lips with interest. She noticed him staring and licked them.

“I don’t know how much of a help I’ll be.” His bronze skin reddened with the admission and she wondered if he was blushing or if the cold was getting to him. “I don’t know anything about cars but I can give you a ride wherever you want.”

She’d like a ride alright. In his cushiony truck that may as well have been a royal carriage considering the circumstances. Or on his handsome bearded face that she couldn’t stop staring at. 

Chantel wondered if he could tell what she was thinking. 

Movement caught her eye and she noticed an identical black SUV pulling off the road to park behind the one Prince Charming departed from. Her hand squeezed around the taser instinctively. 

Was the sexy stranger bait to catch naive, unsuspecting girls? 

“...but I’m sure we’d both rather leave it to the professionals.” He gestured back towards the dark truck and paused, noticing they weren’t alone. Her breath caught in her chest when four bulking men slammed their doors shut and started walking in their direction.

“I apologize. That’s my security team. I left without telling them.” 

Hmm. A kindred spirit. 

Who was he to have a security team? Was he telling the truth? Or just stalling? 

She wanted to believe him. To trust that it was in human nature to help one another without some ulterior, sinister motive. 

Did she even have a choice? How long would she have to wait on the next passerby? There was no guarantee they would be any better than the (so far) kind stranger and his friends.

Chantel Williams was a lot of things, but she was not naïve. With surprising coordination, she swung the door open, knocking the man back several steps. Her boots crunched as she landed in the snow. 

“Back up or I’m going to tase you!” She warned, putting space between herself and the stranger while keeping an eye on the approaching men. 

The corners of his mouth turned up as he fought back a smile. 

Chantel scoffed. He wasn’t taking her seriously. 

“I’m not fucking around!” She insisted, charging up the small device. The buzz felt more powerful than she remembered. The man seemed to think so too, changing his approach. He spoke in a soft tone. “Can we slow down?” 

“Don’t patronize me. Just back up like I said. No, this way!” She ordered until he stood across from her with his back to his men. 

Behind him, they speed up their approach but they could only move so fast in the snow. Following her gaze, the strange man looked over his shoulder and gestured for the men to stall at the front of his truck several feet away. One of them shouted at her to put the taser away from his position. He sported two braids and a cut in his brow. Chantel shouted back at him to ‘shut the fuck up’

Mr. GQ gave another signal and like he was the conductor of an orchestra, all noise ceased. Well, all external noise at least. Chantel swore she could hear the sound of her heart ringing in her ears. 

“Hey!” He demanded her full attention. His hands were up in a defensive position. “What are you looking for here?” 

It was a great question but she had no answer for him.

Trouble maker. Fire starter. Full-time agitator.

Chantel was that way even as a child, responding to normal adolescent teasing with violence. Sharp bites in the classroom or royal rumble style fights on the playground were her specialty in grade school. She made anyone stupid enough to provoke her regret it whether big or small, male or female. That wasn’t to say she was organized or calculating in her plans. She acted and dealt with things as they came. 

She had no idea what the endgame was when she pulled the taser, but she had to stick with it. The crowd of onlookers made her feel more justified in her rash decision.

“I don’t think you really want to hurt me.”

“Now, what would make you think that?” Chantel asked incredulously. He didn’t know her from Eve. 

She was even more steadfast in pointing the taser in his direction but he didn’t seem phased.

“When you want to hurt somebody, you don’t wait around or warn them. You just do it.”

“Are you suggesting I should’ve tased you?”

He shrugged as if they were discussing the weather.

“That certainly would have been more effective.”

Was he serious?

“I mean I still can. If you keep talking I just might.”

He had the gall to laugh in her face. 

Hysterically. 

And it wasn’t fleeting or sarcastic. It was genuine laughter from deep down in his gut. She hated how beautiful he was, even in the middle of showing blatant disrespect for her ability to harm him. 

“Seriously?” She griped, fighting against the way her face muscles twitched. 

Giggle box.

When somebody at church mispronounced a word during the announcements or when her aunt murdered a hit song, she giggled uncontrollably. Papa chastised her for it, but it couldn’t be helped. When the urge struck and she got that itch in her throat, she had to laugh.

So naturally, like two birds of a maniac feather they shared a laugh in four (and counting) inches of snow.

***

GENERAL TAGLIST

@woahitslucyylu @briannab1234 @sheeshgivemeabreak @breakingnewsin-no-oneasked @angelreyesgirl @blessedboo @glimmerglittergirl @apantherinmypastlife @brownsugarcoffy @marvelmaree @starrynite7114 @scuzmunkie @thewarriorprincessxo @sadeyesgf @pearlkitten33 @imanerdychubbyqueen @literaturefeen @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @everyhowlmarksthedead @yourwonkywriter @trulysuccubus

MIGUEL TAGLIST

@thesandbeneathmytoes @taylortheeshowpony

[causeimhappinesss]

May I please get a smut of RE4 Leon and an Australian GF? Where the GF always wears very short shorts because the heat of July is more humid in America than Australia? ...Sorry if it is too much....

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x reader

Warnings: smut + wrap your biscuit, please.  

Disclaimer: I’m french and even if I’m learning English for ten fucking years, it’s not perfect and I’m sorry if there are spelling or grammar mistakes. If English is your native language (or if you’re bilingual), I would really appreciate it if you could help me by correcting my errors. Just don’t be too harsh, please. :) 

And of course, I’m sorry I made you wait so long... :(

***

For sure, Leon hated Spain. How could it be great like people keep saying? The only things he saw there were: bad weather, zombies/crazy people, giants, monsters, blood, guts, etc. Nothing fantastic! Now that he was in America, a few months later, he was under the sun, in his girlfriend’s garden. He tried to help Y/N with her gardening, but he was clearly better at killing BOW’s than saving plants and flowers… And now, the pretty little Australian was just in front of him, leaning over her roses, her butt up, her short fitting closely those two cheeks he liked to grab and slap… On top of that, she chose the shorter of all the one she had. The blond could only admire the beauty of her curves, her body, on which sweat beaded and made her skin glowing under the sunlight… Delicious. Sexy. Hot. Definitely, she was all those adjectives.

He was certain she kept doing this to make him hard, because the only excuse she found was: “July is more humid in America than Australia” …

More humid… My ass! He thought. He didn’t really believe her. The only humid thing he could imagine right now was her pussy, aching for his half hard cock. His member confined in his boxers, he breathed calmly, a half-ecstatic smile drew itself on his face. His azure gazed glued on her ass… His licked his lips to moisture them and exhaled.

Saying he wasn’t enjoying his holidays would be a complete lie.

And now, he wanted to fuck her.

Exactly like he did in the morning, a wake-up sex. Exactly like he did last night. Exactly like he did every other day.

Then, he stood up from his deckchair, came closer to her and slid his calloused hand on one of her rounded cheeks. He slaped it and she jumped, startled. She turned around, to punch him in the arm.

“You scared me! Sometimes, you’re a real asshole! You know that?”

“Yes, m’am, but your favorite asshole” he retorted, with a playful smile.

“Don’t smile like that, I just want to punch you more.”

“Just like I wanna kiss you and fuck you even more…”

The Australian woman shook her head, infuriated by his words, but a light smile curling her lips betrayed her. Of course, Leon’s observer eyes didn’t miss a single movement, he knew she was only trying to resist the urge to kiss him and to ride his rod like she seems to adore.

Suddenly, he grabbed her and threw her on his shoulder, getting back in the house he left thirty minutes ago. He let her fall on the grey couch of her living room, pushed himself against her, then glided his hands under her shirt. He refused to waste time. Then, he placed a multitude of kisses on the feverish skin of the young woman, her neck with thin skin, her chest covered with a lace bra. He hurried to unclip it, while the young woman busied herself with caressing his perfectly shaped chest, his protruding muscles. Her little hands got rid of the pants he was wearing, before stroking the erection stuck in his boxers, which was waiting for one thing: deliverance. Hard as a rock, Leon could no longer bear the fabric on his member and, Y/N understood, since she took off his last garment. At the same time, he took the opportunity to remove the shorts of the Australian. The man descended his kisses on the hardened nipples of the young woman, licking them, nibbling them, tearing out sighs of pleasure and desire from his girlfriend. Finally, he started to kiss the belly of the young woman, up to his privacy covered by her black lace panties. His teeth slid her down her legs, before it littered the floor. His expert fingers slid over the private parts of the young woman, in search of her clitoris, which he tickled with fervor. His thick fingers found her hole, which they slid slowly into, before picking up speed. Quickly, she felt overwhelmed with pleasure, wanting to feel that hard cock to take her in the most primitive way.

“Leon… Oh God…”

“Didn’t know I was your god, babe” he joked.

Without wasting time, her hands wrapped around the thick cock of the blond, coming to make movements back and forth. She insisted on his glans reddened by the immense wave of desire that rippled over the man's body, then with her other hand, she tickled his balls. Eyes half-closed, he watched the beautiful girl in her acts. Finally, he removed his fingers from her pussy and offered her the control.

Now, straddling him, she leaned over his penis and kissed it, from the base to the glans. She insisted on the tip, the most sensitive part of the man. She took him in her mouth, to give him a blowjob, feeling his penis tap deep in her throat, as she tried to perform back and forth movements. With his eyes closed, his hands in the young woman's shaggy hair, he encouraged her in his movements. He felt like he was in Heaven, he couldn't deny it. Hoarse growls passed the barrier of his lips and this time he didn't care if he was a bit loud. And if someone was around, that person could smell sex in the atmosphere...

Finally, she rubbed the outstretched cock against her wet pussy, which begged him to fuck with force. But sometimes, she liked to play and to make them wait, to be sure they would be so exciting, that sex would be insane… Her wetness coated his cock who twitched, so eager to be inside of her.

“Y/N… Stop playing, come on!”

“Be patient.”

“Patient, huh? If you don’t ride my cock right now, let me tell you something… You’re not gonna walk straight for a week and when you’ll walk, people are gonna confuse you with a kangaroo!”

A smile stretched her plump lips. She just pushed his fat cock inside of her need, warm and wet pussy.  A moan passed the barrier of her lips, as she adjusted to the thickness of the mast. Slowly, she began to move back and forth, before picking up the pace, while Leon was accompanying her with thrusts. Fast. Brutal.

He wasn’t joking… she thought.

But, dissatisfied despite the pleasure, the man regained control, dominating the young woman with his body pressing against his. In missionary, he pounded her with powerful thrusts for long minutes, until he found the perfect angle. The pleasure was soaring, while the young woman couldn’t help, but moan. She clung to her lover's arm, her head thrown back, panting.

Orgasm was fast approaching for both.

A few more minutes later, as Leon observed his partner's facial expressions, excited and narcissistic that he was the reason for this daze she found herself in; the vaginal walls of the young woman tighten his cock. Several times. She moaned louder. She was holding back from screaming. He, too, saw himself reaching nirvana. He closed his eyes, the pleasure so intense, as groans of pleasure joined Y/N's vocals. His sperm sprang up and covered the walls of the woman.

“Damn…” he whispered before he pulled out. 

[inloveoknutzy]

Blue Eyes

this was my secret santa gift to subito-fulget. thank you @jacklighting for organising the secret santa in the discord chat!! it was so much fun to do

this is some coops pining and fluff - credit as always for coops goes to @lumosinlove 🥰 happy holidays

this can also be found on my ao3 along with my other longer fics <3

Perfect, absolutely perfect. Remus thought as the team all stood on the side of a dark road, the bus having just broken down. They were making good time, on their way to the fourth game of the season, but they just had to choose the hotel furthest away from the airport. Fortunately, they were all dressed for warmth but that didn’t stop a cold chill running down Remus’ spine as he shuffled on the spot, arms wrapped around himself. They were waiting on a replacement bus, van, anything to get them anywhere, but given the forecasted snowstorm, they weren’t having much luck.

Logan stood next to Dumo, their heads knocked together as they talked quietly, while Finn was in a similar state to Remus, looking around as he rubbed his arms, sucking in a breath. “We should all huddle for warmth,” Finn suggested, and Leo was the first to nod quickly, shuffling over and leaning into Finn.

Others joined the group, while Remus glanced over at Sirius who stood alone, looking down. Remus would have given anything to know what he was thinking right then, eyes casted downward, black curls sticking out of the cap he was wearing (that really should’ve been a beanie), wet from where the snow had formed to water. He watched as a puff of air blew out of his mouth, visible from how cold it was; Remus found himself struck with an unexplainable desire to be in that breath’s path. Being close enough to feel the warmth radiating from him, enveloping and dizzying him. Maybe he would crack a joke and Sirius would laugh, eyes bright and grin wide. Maybe then he’d shake his head fondly and lean in close enough for their lips to touch-

“Earth to Loops,” Coach called, bringing him out of his thoughts. He hummed in acknowledgement as Coach waved his phone, “rescue bus will be here any minute.”

Remus nodded, then tried rubbing his hands together in hopes of warming them up, but it was to no avail. He was bloody freezing. He walked over and playfully shouldered Sirius, who seemed lost in his head. “You alright?”

It was when Sirius turned to face him that Remus realised how close they were standing, their faces even closer. Sirius looked into his eyes and Remus was captivated, unable to look anywhere else. He asked again, slower this time, “you okay, Cap?”

“Hm? Oh- yeah…” Sirius said quietly, turning to look back down at the ground. It felt like that one word didn’t even scratch the surface of the vastness of Sirius’ thoughts, but Remus didn’t dare press further. If only.

Remus nodded and looked ahead, forlornly at the poor broken down bus, most likely going to be many feet under snow by the morning. Being stood next to Sirius, starting the world’s most awkward and stilted conversation in the history of conversations, Remus was very much envious of the bus. Many feet under snow seemed like a better alternative to the silence that stretched between the two, thicker than the fluffy whiteness beneath them.

“And you?” Remus blinked, turning again to catch Sirius’ blue eyes once more. “How are you?” Sirius asked.

“Blue.”

Oh god.

“Blue?” Sirius pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh. Remus was thankful for the excuse of the cold weather for his rosy cheeks, though something told him Sirius was already aware of the things he did to him.

“Um- yeah. No- I just meant-uh-” Remus stumbled over his words, frustrated that Sirius always flustered him. If he wasn’t rendered speechless by his lack of a filter, then he certainly was after the corners of Sirius’ mouth turned up into a smile, eyes crinkling slightly. Remus felt compelled to poke the little dimples in his cheeks but chose instead to keep his hands in his pockets.

“You just meant…” Sirius prompted, smile growing wider. Remus couldn’t find any words, entranced by the sweet expression on the man’s face. Sirius huffed a laugh, and after a moment of silence, said very gently, “you know, I quite like your eyes too.”

Oh. Oh my. Remus had no idea what to say to that, taken aback completely. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was interrupted by the loud beep beep of a bus as it pulled into the road beside them, everyone cheering.

“I-um. I guess I’ll see you later then?” Sirius asked as they walked over to the bus. He didn’t break eye contact with Remus, who in turn was struggling to maintain Sirius’ unwavering gaze.

Remus nodded, “yeah I’ll see you ar-ah!” He slipped, legs swinging out in front of him. He screwed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never came. No, instead, he fell into the very strong arms of one Sirius Black, who looked down at him seemingly very amused about the whole situation.

Remus looked up at him, eyes wide. He racked his brain, begged it to come up with some kind of response to the most embarrassing predicament he could find himself in. But naturally, all he could think of to say was,

“Oh.”

Great. So smart. Just a brilliant response.

Remus would have been more embarrassed about his reply, or lack thereof, had it not been for the way Sirius’ face lit up, hand instinctively gripping a little tighter on his arm.

“Have a nice trip?” he quipped, and Remus rolled his eyes as he was brought back up on his feet.

“Thanks,” he said, and Sirius just nodded, still smiling. He made his way to the open door of the bus, where everyone else was already piled in. There were two rows of seats, facing each other. Everyone had taken up the rest of the seats, bar for two.

“After you.” Remus offered, and Sirius grinned, nodding his thanks. Though, he paused when he climbed in, turning back to face Remus. He held out his hand for Remus to take, then pulled him up into the bus.

Remus, still thrown off balance from the trip just moments ago, tumbled into the seat beside Sirius, one leg on top of his lap. He yelped and removed his leg, eyes determinedly looking down when Dumo raised an eyebrow at the pair of them.

“I’d settle in, it’s gonna be a long ride.” The driver called from the front seat, much to the chagrin of Remus. He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive this journey.

Pretty much everyone else on the bus seemed to be varying degrees of tired. The one commonality lay that they were all on the verge of, if not already, falling asleep.

Remus bounced his legs up and down, trying his best to keep warm, but next to him, Sirius sighed and put a hand on Remus’ knee, with a quiet mumble of, “stop that.”

“Shit sorry.” Remus apologised, but when Sirius turned to look at him, he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact he seemed more solemn. Contemplative. He felt exposed, under Sirius’ gaze, like he just ripped Remus’ chest apart and pulled out his beating heart. It’s his, anyway.

Neither of them looked away from each other, in fear of losing whatever moment this was. Pulling them. Reeling in, drawn closer and closer and closer- a bump in the road broke whatever silent conversation they were having, leaving both parties to look away.

Sirius let his head fall back against the wall behind them, closing his eyes. Remus wished he could relax right now but it was proving to be very difficult given Sirius’ hand was still resting on his knee. The ever-so-casual touch bleeding into his skin. He wanted to be surrounded by that feeling, be surrounded by Sirius. Not suffocating or claustrophobic, just there. Present. It felt like so much of Remus’ life was spent clinging so desperately onto things he knew he needed to let go of.

He didn’t want to let go of this.

Something told Remus he wouldn’t have to.

If only he could express how he felt. All of the words were on the tip of his tongue, on his lips, and in his head, stood at the edge of a cliff waiting for Sirius to join him. The wind was cold and biting on his skin, looking down at the never-ending blue beneath this cliff. Crashing waves and dark rocks. Just jump. Do it. It’s scary but he wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else. And that thought is scary in and of itself.

Just jump.

Into the blue.

Sirius was asleep now. Remus was convinced he was the only one awake on the bus. He was about to pull out his phone when he felt a warmth on his shoulder, something tickling at his neck. He frowned and craned his head, gasping a little when he saw a head of black hair resting on his shoulder.

He didn’t move a muscle, didn’t want this moment to end. But he was conscious that Sirius’ neck was going to kill after this. And technically, it was his responsibility as the team’s PT to eliminate any unnecessary pain or cramps. He turned very carefully, slowly, sliding a hand underneath Sirius’ head, cradling it almost. He really should have thought this through, though, because he now had no clue what he was supposed to do, Sirius’ head resting in his hands.

He did what any sane person would do in his situation, and lowered his head all the way into his lap, Sirius, half-asleep, bringing his legs up underneath him and shifting around, turning his body to curl up slightly, cheek now resting on Remus’ thigh.

This certainly was going to be a long ride.

Remus thought he might as well try and get some sleep.

*****

“We’re here, boys.” Remus heard, and blinked his eyes open, looking around at everyone in a similar state to him, groggily rubbing their faces and standing up. He looked down at Sirius who was still asleep on his lap. Unsure how to go about waking him up, Remus’ hands hovered over his face.

He gently brushed the hair away to reveal Sirius’ face, so calm and peaceful asleep. He felt bad interrupting it, but everyone else was off the bus now.

“Sirius.”

“Sirius.”

He sighed, and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking slightly. “Sirius,” he said louder, and was greeted with only a hum.

He shook him more, and Sirius jumped up suddenly, hair flat on one side, cap half fallen off his head. His eyes met Remus’.

“You fell-”

“Sorry I-”

They both laughed, and Sirius gestured for him to continue, “I-uh. You fell asleep. I didn’t want you to get a cramp in your neck.”

“Oh!” Sirius stood up, holding his hand out for Remus to take again, “thanks.”

“No problem.” Remus nodded, and they both made their way to the entrance of the little motel. He felt envious of Sirius, being able to brush off something like falling asleep on someone like he did. Maybe it just didn’t mean that much to him.

Remus took notice of the small building, and it was evident they weren’t going to make their way to their originally booked hotel. He just hoped this would do.

Coach was talking to the receptionist, while Remus walked to stand beside Dumo, who shot him a knowing look. “What?” he asked.

“Nothing,” he hummed, but his expression still didn’t let up.

“What?” Remus asked again, bordering on a whine.

“You and the Captain are getting very close, non?”

Remus blushed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You tell me.”

He was about to reply, when he was interrupted by a hand on his arm. He turned and saw Sirius, smiling sheepishly.

“Hi-”

“Hey.”

“So um, there’s not many rooms left… everyone’s doubling up or in some cases tripling up. I said I’d bunk with you if that’s cool?”

Remus’ mouth went dry. Why did he pick him? Of all the people? He could only nod, and Sirius smiled brightly back at him, “great! We’re in room 54.”

“O-okay.”

Dumo snorted beside him, and Remus whacked his arm. “I’m gonna head up to the room now…” Sirius said, and Remus nodded again.

“Sure I’ll join you,” he gave Dumo a warning look as he grabbed his bags, walking down the hall with Sirius.

“There’s only one key.” Sirius explained, “I- you can have it if you want.”

“Oh that’s fine you can keep hold of it.”

Sirius huffed a laugh, looking down. Remus wanted to hear that laugh on a loop. It felt like recently Sirius had been so tense and stressed. It was refreshing seeing him so happy. “No I- I don’t trust myself.”

The statement hung between the two of them. As if he were standing in the middle of a tightrope, unable to decide whether he should turn around and head back or carry on walking forward, balancing. It felt like Sirius just said everything and nothing at all. The simultaneous weight of insinuation and emptiness of such a throwaway comment leaving Remus unsure of where he stood with Sirius. Surely friends didn’t speak like this?

“Well I’ll take it,” he said gently, taking the key from Sirius, the electricity of their hands brushing jolting through his arm, warming him in the otherwise freezing motel.

He unlocked the door and they both walked through, stopping at the same time in front of the one bed that took up the entirety of the room.

“What kind of shitty fanfiction is this?” Sirius mumbled, sighing as he dropped his bags on the bed.

“And what would you know about fanfiction?” Remus asked, quirking an eyebrow as Sirius grinned,

“Wouldn’t you love to know.”

Remus had no idea how to respond to that. So, he instead chose to join Sirius in dropping his bags.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Sirius offered, and Remus could only laugh as he looked around at the room, the only bit of floor being what they were standing on, just enough for the door to swing open.

“What floor?”

Sirius laughed too, “good point.”

Their laughter died down, and they were once again left in just each other’s company. Both avoiding the elephant, or rather, bed, in the room. “So…”

“So…” Sirius trailed off, “I can run back down and see if there’s any other rooms,” he suggested.

“Didn’t you say all the rooms were gone?”

“Yeah…”

Silence. Again.

“It’s not so bad. The bed could be smaller.” Remus reasoned, shrugging. “I-I’m fine with it if you are. As long as you don’t snore,” he attempted to make light of the situation.

“I don’t snore!”

“Guess we’ll see then.” Remus grinned, opening the zip on his bag.

*****

Sirius didn’t snore. But he also didn’t seem to fall asleep very quickly. Remus kept his eyes trained on the ceiling; hoping, praying that maybe Sirius would say something, anything. Sirius most likely was not thinking the same things. He kept huffing and sighing, shifting around from one side to another on the small bed.

“Can’t sleep?” Remus broke the silence, turning to face Sirius. He looked adorable, the light from the window (with no curtains) catching his eyes, though Remus thought Sirius didn’t need light for his eyes to sparkle. He was always the one to bring the light into every situation. Bring the light into his life. Light that he didn’t know he needed, but now he got a glimpse, never wanted to go without.

“I think the nap on the bus probably wasn’t the best idea.” Sirius smiled a little, facing Remus now. His cheek was squished up against the pillow, black curls covering his forehead. Remus felt compelled to reach forward and brush them away, so he could get lost in the blue of his eyes once more, but instead kept his hands by his sides.

“Probably not.” Remus said quietly, now conscious of his breathing as their faces were yet again in very close proximity. He focused all of his thoughts onto keeping his blush at bay, but there was no use.

“You want to know what I do to get myself to sleep?” Sirius asked, and at the other’s nod continued, “well, I— hey,” he said gently when Remus looked down.

Suddenly, his head was being tilted back up, a hand on his cheek. At Remus’ questioning look, Sirius very simply said, “I can’t see your face when you do that.”

“Oh.” Remus so eloquently responded, mind reeling at Sirius’ hand on his cheek, the touch both overwhelming yet not enough. He leaned into it, closing his eyes.

“Hey!” Sirius said again, smiling when Remus opened his eyes. “Can’t see your eyes when you do that, either.”

Remus must have been dreaming. That was the only logical explanation he could think of for what was happening. He watched as Sirius’ smile grew wider. “Why do you always look so surprised, Rem?”

His eyes widened slightly at the nickname. If his cheeks weren’t bright red already they certainly were after that. “I- I don’t know. Nervous I guess.”

“About what?” Sirius asked, and Remus’ face dropped a little. Was Sirius not aware of the things he did to him? Surely? He took a leap, jumped off the edge of the cliff, hoping to be engulfed in the deep sea of blue. Hoping to finally breathe.

“Do you not know how you make me feel?” Remus asked, trying hard to swallow down his heart that now felt like it had leapt up into his throat.

Sirius exhaled shakily, “no,” he whispered, hand still on his cheek. Remus could feel Sirius trembling. Or maybe that was just him. At this point he couldn’t tell. All he kept thinking of was Sirius, Sirius, Sirius, blue eyes, Sirius...

“Well.” Remus gulped, eyes never leaving Sirius’. He felt like he could write essays upon essays, sonnets upon sonnets, on Sirius’ deep blue eyes. He couldn’t stop thinking about them. Wondering. Does Sirius look at him with the same affection he did?

“Do you want to know what helps me get to sleep?” Remus asked.

Sirius nodded, and Remus took a breath. Now wasn’t the time to back down. Emboldened by the hand that was still on his cheek, Remus continued, “well I- I like to think of scenarios. Little scenes that I make up in my head- of um- of things I wish would happen.”

“I thought I was the one who liked fanfiction?”

“So you admit it!” Remus smiled, nervous energy dissipating, “you do read fanfiction.”

Sirius laughed, “you’re avoiding the subject,” he said, cheeks tinged a light pink. Remus felt reassured he wasn’t the only one.

“Fine,” Remus continued, “the, um, the difference between the- uh- the fanfiction thing and me is that… I picture most of mine happening in real life—”

Sirius’ thumb softly stroking Remus’ cheekbone threw him off his rhythm. Sirius prompted him, “and…?”

“And- uh- most of them are… with you.”

Sirius went silent, and Remus shut his eyes, in fear that he had misread the situation entirely.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute at most passed, Remus opened his eyes to find Sirius staring right back at him, lips forming the shape of an ‘O’. He blinked, almost deciding something in his head, his right hand then being brought up to meet the left, now cupping both of Remus’ cheeks.

“Can I kiss you?” Sirius asked, and Remus nodded quickly, leaning forward to meet his lips.

The daydreams didn’t hold a candle to the incredible feeling of Sirius kissing him. Face cradled in his hands, lips brushing against his, Remus finally jumped off the cliff. Finally crashed into the deep blue water, feeling like he just took a breath for the first time, surrounded by Sirius. He couldn’t think of anything else, his hands lifted to bury in his thick black hair, so fluffy and soft underneath his fingertips. One moment it felt like everything was in slow motion, then the next, it felt like someone had pressed fast forward. It was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Sirius pulled away first, breathing quickly. He looked into Remus’ eyes, lips turning up into a shy smile, one he had never seen before. He felt special. Only he got the privilege to see this side of Sirius.

“How did that live up to your fanfictions?” Sirius asked, breathless.

Remus laughed loudly, unexpectedly, covering his face with his hands. “I said they weren’t fanfictions.”

“Ohh sorry. What do you call it, headcanons?”

“Please shut up.” Remus couldn’t stop laughing.

“Gladly,” Sirius grinned, leaning back in to kiss him again.

Remus wasn’t sure where this was going, but for once in his life, he wasn’t afraid of that. He didn't need to worry about what else was going to happen, because he now had Sirius by his side. And as long as he had Sirius with him, he felt like he could do anything.

[pretoriafics]

One Night With... Derek Hale

Remember: My requests are open. Remember²: English is not my main language, so I’m sorry if my writing maybe sounds bad for you.  

Let’s get started?

Word count: 2.553 Contain: Hunter!Reader, arguing, a little bit of fluff... Warnings: Inappropriate language +16 only Inspired by the music 3 nights, by Dominic Fike Versão em português aqui

You were a famous hunter. Everyone knew your name. Feared and respected, you asserted your authority, strength, and respect for every hunter you knew. You have an entire collection of surreal stories in the hunting world, who everyone knew.

And, now, you were in Beacon Hills. In a hunting, of course. Hunting was your life.

You were suspicious about a pack of werewolves, which a hunter's family who was your friend, the Argent family, alerted you. That particular hunting was a werewolf attack case, and you went investigating that werewolves pack. You hunted them, relentless, but then, the Alpha called you to a talk. You accepted the conversation, of course. It would be interesting to listen to what the hell he would talk with you.

You arrived in a cafe and recognized him immediately. He was tall, with dark hair and a dangerous aura. Without ceremonies, you sat close to him.

"Derek, huh?" You said, without the need to be polite. "Trying to get more time to live?"

"Unlike the other packs, we don't have afraid of you." His arms were crossed in front of his chest, and his gaze was glacial. You smiled at him.

"You should have. It would be even more intelligent. So, I need to recognize that call me for a talk is a brave gesture of yours, Hale. I'm impressed."

His eyes narrowed to you.

"I think it would be smarter if we unite our energies. This way, we can get the Alpha who is attacking the city."

You arch your eyebrows. I mean, is he talking seriously? You let escape a short smirk between your red lipstick lips.

"Are you saying that..."

"It wasn't us doing all this shit."

Derek exposed all the points that were another werewolf. Yeah, you need to admit that everything was making sense. He was a smart guy, and it seems like he's not a threat to you. After so many years as a hunter, you developed a kind of sense about psycho supernatural ones. That's was not the case with Derek.

Ok. You decided to give a chance for Derek.

"Alright. But if I find out it was you, I swear that I'll go until hell to cut your head off."

You had met the pack and find out that the idea of talking with you came from another Alpha, called Scott. They seem like not only distrust you, but fear you too. Derek was always being cautious about trusting you, but you totally understand him. You're were also being cautious.

Together, you and Derek had elaborated a strategy to catch that Alpha. Despite argue sometimes, after all, you and him were a good match. Your plan was brilliant and infallible. Your body was moving like a work of art when you were fighting, brutal and elegant, who prooved for everyone in the pack why you were so famous. With a flawless execution, you had killed the Alpha.

But then, you heard a shot. Derek fell to the ground with his shoulder bleeding: Chris, Victoria, Allison, and a few other hunters were pointing their guns to the pack.

"It's time to solve this." Chris's voice echoed in the woods. And before anyone do something, you put yourself in front of all pack. The Argent's was noticeably surprised by your presence.

"It was not them, Argent. It was another Alpha."

They looked at each other. Victoria's voice was the next to be heard.

"You don't know what you are doing, and you don't know them. They are killers. We thought you would be smarter than this. It seems like all of your stories were fake."

"I need to assume that people talk too much, sometimes. So, yeah, a few of them are fake. But look, I know what I'm doing here." You cross your arms in front of your chest and get one step closer to the Argent hunters. "From now on, Hale's pack is my business. If you had any issues with them, talk with me, and I'll solve them personally. And I'm serious. You don't want me as your enemy."

"Okay." Chris put down his gun, and the group did the same. He exchanged gazes with his group. "We will remember that."

Thwarted with the situation, they got in their cars and ran away. That night sealed an alliance between you and the Hale pack, even if you and Derek didn't have the best relation at all.

You went to Derek's loft after that, just you and him. Both of you were on the couch, and you were holding a first-aid kit.

"I told you I can take care of-"

"Shut up, Hale. I need to talk with you. Take this shirt off." You were staring at him. Derek arched his eyebrows at you, and you rolled your eyes, with your face turning into red. "Don't take this to the sexual side. Damn! How do you expect I take this bullet off from you? Stop thinking with your dick."

He takes his shirt off, allowing you to focus on the wound - or try, at least. Focus on the wound, focus on the wound!

"The Lumen will be auctioned in Los Angeles next week." You said, taking the silver bullet off of him. Derek looked at you with a surprised gaze. The Lumen was an ancient book, with a silver cover and pages with wolfsbane. It's the most complete and trustable bestiary ever, and both of you have a chance to get it. "I have the money to get it. You can't touch the book for obvious reasons, so I thought I could get to take the book with you. No one will suspect if the book stays hidden with you. Both of us will use the book. It's a valuable thing, you know."

Yeah, it was important information. Derek knew if he had unlimited access to the Lumen, he would have an advantage. Even if he cannot touch on the book, Stiles would help a lot doing this.

"Let's get the book, then."

And the auction was tense.

You had never seen so many hunters and supernatural ones reunited in one space before. It was like a war zone, but fortunately, you and Derek got the bloody book. The Lumen was in the car trunk, and both of you were going back to the city However, in the middle of the road, you saw a few officers. When you get closer, Derek stops his car.

"Good night, officer. What's wrong?"

"Good night, sir." The officer was with a soft voice. "I need you and your girl to turn around and go back. No one will leave Los Angeles for now."

"What?!" You was almost freaking out. Derek blinked his eyes a few times. What the hell was happening? A little bit nervous, the Alpha asked:

"Wait, wait. What are you talking about?" 

"We're in a pandemic moment, and the Coronavirus cases increased a little on these days. We're trying to avoid more cases, and we're without the tool to do a sanitary barrier. Until we got more of them to guarantee the people are healthy, and without the virus in your bodies, no one will leave the city."

The weather reflected the feeling of both of you. A heavy rain began to fall from the skies, and Derek just breathed in. He nodded in approval to the officer.

"Okay, we will go back. Thanks."

Derek turn around his car and begun to drive back to L.A. The plan of yours was doing all fine until now, but just in the part who should be the easiest one, everything goes down. You stared him, totally bothered with the situation.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Hale? We can't go back. We need to find another way to go to Beacon Hills!"

"Oh, really?" His voice had an ironical ton. "So what the fuck do you think I should do?"

"Look for another route!" Your voice was louder, and you were saying like it was so obvious. "It is so simple!"

"How do you expect I could do it? I can't see a hand under my nose with all this storm!" He said, angry. The rain was heavy, and the dark of the night wasn't helping. "Furthermore, did you really think this is the only barrier? Are you serious?"

"But-"

"Damn, shut up! We can't go back to Beacon Hills now. Stop acting like a spoiled kid."

Your mouth opened, quite raging with him. How dare! Your face was red in rage, and that's one of the moments you just want to punch his face until he become unrecognizable. You crossed your arms in front of your chest, staring at him with a mortal gaze.

"Why men never do something to solve an issue? That's why women will dominate the world."

"I told you we should participate in the auction via the internet, and you didn't listen to me. It's your fault, I mean, come on! We are in the middle of a fucking pandemic."

You rolled your eyes. He said that it was your fault, commanded you to shut up, and called you "spoiled kid". Damn! Sometimes, Derek Hale has the power to get you so pissed off!

"Stop the car, Hale." You were staring the road trough the window. When he listens to you, Derek stared you totally astonished. You repeated, looking at him with mortal eyes. "Are you fucking deaf? Stop the goddamn car, or I'll open the door!"

"Shit!"

Derek stops his car in the middle of the road. You came out of the car and begun to walk in the street without a look back. You weren't caring about the heavy rain that was falling from the sky and was putting you and your clothes entirely wet. You just don't wanna stay in that fucking car with that stupid alpha.

"(Y/N)! Get back to the car!" Derek yelled from the window, watching you walk away. You didn't look back. Without choices, he drove his car until you slowly. His window was close to you. "What the hell do you think are doing?"

"I'm going to get a ride with someone who's going to Beacon Hills."

"Oh, great, sounds a nice plan to get a ride with someone who could simply rape you, or worse!"

"Leave me alone!" You yelled, looking at him. "Argh! Stupid werewolf." He ignored you.

"Look: It's raining, it's cold, and it's dangerous. Stop being so stubborn. You'll become sick."

You were entirely wet, embracing your own body as a way to become warmer. Your pride was yelling in your head. No, you will NOT get in that stupid car.

"Get out, Hale."

"You're shivering cold. Stop to let everything so hard!" Argue with you wasn't rare. It was a usual thing, actually. However, despite being so freaking pissed off with you, Derek tried to calm down. He breathed in and, calmly at this time, he said. "I promise tomorrow I'll find a way for both of us to come back to Beacon, okay? I don't want you sick."

Then, you finally stopped walking. You need to admit: Derek is completely right. You can't just wait for someone who will accept to give you a ride, and under the storm. You even couldn't think straight because you were so angry! Then, you just sighed. Swallowing your pride, you just turned around and entered the car.

"Sometimes, I really hate you, Derek."

You were not looking at him. Your gaze was focused on that huge storm outside. You were wet, shivering, and freezing. Spend the night out of Beacon Hills wasn't on the plans, but you and Derek know you had no choices. The only clothes you have are completely wet, and you were tired as hell.

"I know. Take this." When you look to the side, on the driver's seat, you saw something who let you a little bit anxious: Derek was shirtless, and he was giving his shirt to you. "You can't stay with these clothes. They're wet. You'll get-"

"I know."

With your cheeks burning, you take his shirt and go back to the back's seat. A lightning cut the skies, announcing that the storm was far from the end. Derek's gaze went to the storm outside, giving you the privacy you need to change your clothes.

A little bit shy about the situation, you were fast: You took your wet clothes off and, quickly, you put Derek's shirt on your body. It was just like a dress for you.

And smells like him.

You have a code that you do precisely: You wouldn't bang with any supernatural. You have a reputation to care. If you have sex with anyone who you should be hunting, you will lose your credibility with the other hunters. Actually, you even never had this desire before for no one of the supernaturals you'd met. Since you met Derek was passed a few weeks, and you really never felt any kind of attraction by him. He was a rude and annoying man. 

But that night, something changed.

He was taking care of you, and you really had a chance to meet him better on this trip. You notice that you have a lot of things in common with him. Also, he smells like danger and something forbidden. All of that Is really a big turn on.

You weren't the only one who was in that way.

Derek was watching you since you met. Your independence and strength sounds really sexy, especially when he saw you fighting. He wasn't trusting on you at the same time, of course. You're still a hunter. However, you earned his trust not only when you talked with the Argent's, but when you took care of him even when he said that he wouldn't need it, and, of course, when you were looking for that insane alpha.

And then, there you are, taking off your clothes so close to him.

His pride was preventing him flirt with you. I mean, come on, you are a hunter! He wouldn't do this. But that situation made his imagination run wild, thinking about your body.

"Thank you." You said for him, with a low voice. "I'm sorry, I think I'm-"

"It's okay, take a rest. I can't see the road with this storm, so I think we'll need to wait for a while. Are you with cold?"

"I'll be-" A sneeze interrupts your words. Derek sighs, annoyed.

"Great, you become sick. And just when the car's heater is broken."

"Look, I just don't want to argue now."

He looks at you. Quickly, Derek goes to the back seat, and rub your arms in a way to warm your body. Your skin was so soft... You get closer to him, to feel the warmth of his body, and, soon, he embraced you. Your head rests on his chest, and you were feeling a little bit warmer now.

Be in his arms was really good, and not because of the warmth. It was feeling like home for you. It was so comfy, so good...

"Are you feeling better?"

You didn't respond to him, and Derek arched his eyebrows.

"(Y/N)?" He calls you. But when he heard your peaceful breath, he knew that you fall asleep. It took a soft smile from him.

That was your first night.

[friendandphoe]

okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little— 

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

 ...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."