#new moon fic

[lnfours]

i could imagine how soft lando is after a fight and maybe you could write something about lando and reader had a lowkey big fight, and lando decided to join her to the shower (GWSJZHHAHZ) and apologize under the shower before finally creating a steamy scene with the reader

ooooh my god. oh my god.

smut (18+ please!)

send in your lando thoughts

the argument was something stupid. a result of exhaustion and frustration on his end. he hasn’t meant to upset you, or yell at you for that matter, but he had. and he felt guilty when you turned on your heels, walking away and leaving him in the kitchen.

you two hadn’t seen much of each other the past week and a half. between his traveling, his training schedule and your own calendar, it felt like you were always just missing each other. it felt like you didn’t get to spend so much time with the other recently, which was a big deal to you beings he’s hardly home to begin with.

you knew he hadn’t really meant to go off, maybe you had caught him at the wrong time. you knew he was tired, wanting nothing more than a simple break. but you couldn’t help it. you missed your boyfriend. plain and simple.

he walked into the bedroom, hoping to find you, but instead heard the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. he cracked open the door, stripping off his shirt.

“lando?”

“hmm?”

“what’re you doing?” you asked, but you knew what he was doing. he wasn’t being very subtle about it.

the shower door opened and he step foot inside with you, curls sticking to his forehead as the water fell onto the two of you, “joining you, is that alright?”

you nodded, letting his hands find your hips.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, letting your back hit his chest, lips brushing against the skin of your shoulder, “for yelling and getting short with you. i shouldn’t have yelled.”

you hummed softly, “‘s okay,”

“let me make it up to you.”

his words lost into the skin of your neck and the sound of the shower water pouring down around you. his hands rested on your tummy, holding you against him as you felt his teeth gently nibble at the skin where your neck meets your collarbone.

“how do you plan on making it up to me?”

his hands moved down, fingers dipping between your folds as he teased you. you gasped, head falling back against his shoulder as he smiled down at you, “‘ve got a few ideas.”

“lando,” his name on your tongue sounded heavenly to him.

“yeah, baby,” he said, “tell me what you want. i’m yours.”

you moaned, his teeth gently pulling at your earlobe.

“fuck,” you swallowed, grasping at his forearm. wet from the warm water and his muscles and veins peeking through his perfectly tan skin, “i need you. please,”

he was quick to move his hands to your hips, the two of you finding yourselves situated with your hands on the glass, his one hand on your hip as the other teased himself up and down your slit.

“this what you want, pretty girl? want me to fuck you up against this shower wall?”

“please,” you said. and he would’ve been lying if he said he could deny you like this. spread out and vulnerable, waiting for him to take care of the aching between your thighs that was simply his fault.

“c’mere,” he mumbled, hand wrapping around the base of your throat to pull your head back, your mouth opening in a gasp as he pushed in. no matter how many times he’d have you like this, the stretch and feeling of tightening around him was never not delicious.

“fuck,” he mumbled, slowly moving his hips once you had fully adjusted, “missed you.”

“i missed you too.” you managed to choke out. his hand was still around your throat and as he picked up his movements, the pressure against the points in your neck became greater and greater. your eyes rolled back as he moaned into your ear.

“i love you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the skin below your ear, “so much.”

“i love you too,” you could barely speak, too drunk off of the way his dick was slamming in and out of you. how good it felt to let him have his way with you.

“so good for me,” his free hand traveled, finding your clit with ease as he began running tight circles against it, “come for me, baby. you deserve it.”

you moaned his name, making him pick up the pace just a little more as his hips met yours in a consistent pace. the pace that drove you crazy.

soon the coil in your lower belly was threatening to snap, “‘m so close, lan.”

“me too, baby,” he said, “gonna come for me? come all over my dick, hmm?”

nothing could compete with his dirty talk and he knew it. watching the way your body convulsed against him, your moans and the way you tightened around him sending him over the edge.

he came with you, moaning into your ear as you tried catching your breath. chest rising and falling as he pulled you back from the shower wall. he carefully slipped out of you, letting you turn around before he placed a kiss on your lips.

between kisses he mumbled against your lips, “how about we get cleaned up and take this to the bed, hm?”

you nodded, hands finding his curls, “please.”

[atiny111718]

Seventeen Reactions:

Hyung line: When his wife asks him to make a baby

Warnings: smut, fem reader, swearing, breeding kink

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Seungcheol:

Jeonghan:

Joshua:

Jun:

Hoshi:

Wonwoo:

Woozi:

[ohyoudosmellgood]

just met peter facinelli and asked him what he thought is most compelling about carlisle as a character:

„with carlisle there’s a feeling of calm, even when there‘s chaos.“

and that’s actually so true and poetic? calling all fanfiction authors to go and pick that line up.

[la5pampy]

Tw: blood (just a bit)

HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY! :D to the wondeful fic by @bubbiethesaur

I cannot recommend this fic enought, it’s so well written and has got me in a choke hold (Lra sun my beloved<33)

(Ok now I’m sprinting to the new chap)

[venomous-qwille]

Noon // Ghost in the Machine It's hard to be the villain of your own story.

[crabsnpersimmons]

just wanted to say thank you for all the LOVE for Clip! he's happy to be here!

Clip is hella competitive 😅

and here are some doodles inspired by some of your comments and tags!

@nowiknowthislooksbad @normal-about-the-dca

he's having fun (: (the kind of fun i would hate because i don't like the sound of balloons popping..)

@vacantfields @petrixmuserb

i like to think the hair salon does these kinds of things for charity often. would you be in line? what would you pick?

@ramblingsofacotlfangirl @salamansir

oh dear..

@bennydunbar

loved this tag so i HAD to draw something for it--

oop well okay! i think that's enough for today! thanks again!

[firestorm09890]

"Is he called the 'Viper' because he bites people" -woman who likes to bite whatever she can and does not realize she's a vampire

"No, it's a figure of speech. He sounds irritating but is probably a good strategist" -military strategist many find irritating to deal with because mentally she never left The War

"Whoever made this corridor purple with nothing in it must be a terrible leader. You always need to think about morale" -the same woman, whose usual solution for low morale in her teammates is "stop whining. manager we should kill them"

"the sephirot should have just had a fistfight instead of badmouthing each other for eternity" -Outis again

"Hod is too overprotective" -you'll never guess

[fivveweeks]

i am once again asking you to look at my babygirls right now

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

do robots dream of electric sheep? do robots have nightmares of murders committed in their sleep?

have you slept, or are you afraid of things that in the dark creep?

[clazaries]

Just a Neighbour Thing

(MarcSpector! x f!reader)

Summary: Your neighbour Marc Spector is a pain in your ass. Until he saves your life. w/c: 3.9k Warnings: a lil bit of violence but nothing too graphic. Fluff! a/n: I'll be posting a masterlist soon because I think I've got about three or four fics out now and a few to come!

Marc Spector is an elusive character. A man of very few words and an enigmatic personality - not that you know him well enough to judge his character - but from the rare occasions where your paths crossed in your apartment building, it can be summed up with a small smile from you and a smouldering glare from him. Often aloof, the opportunity to get to know him better as a neighbour never seems to present itself and it leaves you struggling to understand who’s to blame. It’s obvious personal defects are the cause; but his or yours? 

There’s been many occasions where you’ve had to confront his brick-wall disposition, mostly due to the fact that his ringer on the main lobby doesn’t work, so naturally people go for the next best option which is to press the ringer directly below it: yours. You deliberately leave his mail to accumulate at your door until it becomes an unavoidable mound of tax letters, local advertisements and rent notifications and only then do you brave the trip to the apartment above to deliver his post. 

It’s always the same. You knock on the door in a rhythmic pattern that’s become yours. Within seconds he answers the door with the same cold expression, wordlessly takes his mail no matter how hard you try to start up a conversation and before long, you’re staring face to face with the shabby wooden surface of his door. The only thing that changes with each encounter are the clothes that he wears. Different but fairly relative to his style. Purely functional and never dressed for any occasion.

You didn’t mind it for a while. There was some satisfaction and fulfilment to be found while doing your neighbourly duties and despite the fact that there was every possibility he wouldn’t do it for you, you weren’t someone who held a grudge or felt like they had ever been owed a favour. But the mailman had happened upon you on a very bad day and you didn’t feel like accepting his parcel. You had recently been made redundant after the company you worked for did a reshuffling of working positions and yours wasn’t to be included in the new phase they had turned over. So you wallowed at home, watched numerous brain-rotting films, ate a load of junk food and drank lots of wine. 

It was nothing personal towards the mailman when he chapped on your door and demanded a signature for Marc’s parcel, but you couldn’t pretend to be the ‘lovely-neighbour-from-downstairs’ any longer. 

“This is for 8B upstairs. Says there.”

“I know. I can read,” the mailman grumbles, “but I tried knocking on his door but there wasn’t an answer. The parcel needs to be left with someone and you’re the nominated designee.” 

“Can’t you just leave it with another neighbour?” 

“No, says it needs to be left with you.” 

You look at the large rectangular box and consider it. Aside from Marc’s address scribbled on the top, the box is littered with numerous stamps from various international postal services, few you recognize. It looks to be well travelled and handled with very little care yet there’s nothing to suggest what’s inside. With a sigh, you take it from the mailman. It could be important, especially if it’s gone through so many countries to get here and the fact that you would be to blame if it got stolen or damaged. “Fine, I’ll take it.” 

The mailman looks to his feet where a growing pile of letters addressed to Marc starts to spill over into the threshold of your apartment, judgement washing over his features. “Do you…do you normally take all of his mail as well?” 

“Do me a favour? If you ever see the guy from 8B, tell him to come collect his fucking mail.” 

There’s a part of you that feels slightly bad for the mailman when you slammed the door in his face, but then you remember that if Marc stopped being so fucking immature about answering his own door to receive his mail, then you wouldn’t need to feel bad about anything. You leave the parcel sitting on your hallway table, waiting for the day Marc grows some responsibility and asks you for it. 

~~~~

When you placed the parcel on the hallway table, you didn’t expect that it would be sitting there for over a week collecting dust, nor did you expect the curiosity of what’s inside to completely consume you. You walked past it every time you left or entered your apartment. It was in the corner of your eye every time you sat in the living room. It practically radiated temptation every time you took notice of it, screamed at you like it was begging to be opened and you had to force your grubby hands to keep still and not reach for it. But you so desperately wanted to know what was inside. Why was it so conspicuous? Why has it suddenly become the most interesting thing in your apartment?

Perhaps Marc was testing you, sending you a little something of no importance to experiment with your curiosity and test whether or not he could trust to leave you with his personal belongings like he does with his letters. That’s certainly what it felt like by the turn of day eight of the parcel being there and you simply refused to be a rat in his experiment. 

That determination lasted for two whole days before it started to truly pester you. It was starting to get in the way and it felt as though it was getting impossibly bigger and bigger. On day nine you were ready to break it, smash it against every wall, rip every piece of cardboard that keeps it together and deliver it in that state to Marc yourself. From your sofa you stood, eyeing the parcel as if it was taunting you and with adrenaline thrumming through your veins, you stomped towards it. Hands outstretched, you were ready to throw it in any direction but something stopped you at the very last second. Something peculiar and completely out of the ordinary. You halted just centimetres out of reach from the parcel, centimetres out of reach from your door where you could hear the whispers of two or three men right outside. You could see the moulds of their bodies through the peephole. 

“Look, I’m telling you he lives here-”

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. All his mail is sitting here. It’s definitely the right apartment. The parcel is in there.” 

The parcel. They’re here for the parcel. 

“C’mon let’s get this over with. He’ll be back soon. Where’s the crowbar?” 

In the very few heart-stopping, crucial seconds you have before anything happens, you quickly banish all hysteria and muster all rationality and flip over the keyless lock and quietly shuffle away from the door with the parcel in hand. You estimate you have about 15 seconds before they make any headway of getting into your apartment, not enough time for you to hide, but enough time to hide Marc’s parcel. After all, that’s what they are here for. With your heart pounding in your chest, your eyes scan over every nook and cranny of your apartment, quickly assessing each spot based on how likely the intruders are to find it and with the seconds dwindling into single digits, you make a snappy, slightly reckless decision. There’s a ledge just outside your kitchen window where you occasionally leave out some seeds for the birds and you think it’s just low enough that the parcel won’t be seen from the window. It’s risky but you’re running out of time, you have to move. 

Scrambling over counter tops and at the sacrifice of knocking over a few utensils, you manage to wrestle the window open and precariously place the box on the window ledge. It’s risky. The ledge isn’t wide and it’s windy, but whatever is in the parcel is just heavy enough that it stays rooted to the spot. 

Pulling back, your hand grazes the handle of a kitchen knife which, now that the intruders have made their way into your apartment, seems like a good idea to have. 

They round the corner into your living room and immediately start looking for the parcel, noticing you only a few seconds into their search. You point the knife in their direction standing courageously but your wavering breath tells a different story.

The three of them turn towards you from where they stand, and given their expressions, they are just as shocked to see you here than you are to see them. You weren’t supposed to be a variable in their plan. They were supposed to be burglarizing Marc’s empty apartment. Not yours. 

The two taller brown-haired men have similar features and builds, almost identical and you begin to wonder if they are twins. Brothers at the very least. But it’s the ageing stout man standing where the living room and kitchen divide who stares you down. He’s dressed smartly in a tweed suit with a golden pocket watch hanging from his waist coat, the type of man who doesn't like to get his hands dirty, because of course, that job belongs to the bulky twins behind him. This is a man who loves to watch it as it happens. He’s more business than manual labour. 

His facial features morph from shock to something sinister, his lips twisting into a smile that’s as greasy as the hair on his head as if the cruellest of ideas just crossed his mind. 

“I didn’t know Marc had a girlfriend,” he sneers. 

“He doesn’t,” you snarl, aiming the knife directly at him with two hands. “He doesn’t even live here either.”

“Oh, so his mail just gets delivered here on a daily basis?” The man hovers over to your coffee table and picks up multiple letters addressed to Marc, the ones that were delivered last week and remained there because of your stubborn nature. 

Okay, not off to a great start. “He doesn’t live here.”

He grins but it falls flat a split second later. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Now where is he?”

“I don’t know because he doesn’t live here.”

“Bullshit. Where. Is. He?”  

“Not here. I’m not afraid to use this knife.”

“Oh, not from there you won’t. Let me help you with that.” The man crosses the space between you in three long strides until you’re pressed flat against the counter and the point of the knife grazes the tip of his waist coat. The audacity of this man is staggering. “Save yourself the hassle and tell me where Marc is.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where he is! Now get the fuck out of my apartment. Whatever it is you’re looking for isn’t here.”

“And have you call the cops on us? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

His hand reaches out to grab you, and he almost does, but with your quick reflex swinging the knife around, you knick the palm of his hand. The man stumbles backwards with a pained yelp, watching the blood seep from his hand and drip onto your kitchen tiles, enraged that you would even do such a thing. Despite your heart racing and the slightly dizzy feeling of adrenaline raging through your veins, you stand strong, holding the knife even higher in warning. 

“You bitch. Boys!” He shouts and the two brothers come running to his side, sizing you up. “Tie her up. We’re not leaving without that package and I’m certain she knows where it is.” 

It was easy enough to defend yourself against this puny man with a knife, but against two brutes who manhandle you as if you are lamb for slaughter, you don’t stand a chance. Relentless, you squirm and wriggle and fight to get out of their grasp, and while you had accepted that you were fighting a losing battle, there’s still some pride to be had about how hard you made it for them. Rather than tying you up unscathed, Thing 1 ties your hands with a bloody, swollen nose and Thing 2 ties your ankle with a forming black eye and a bruise developing on his ribs. 

With you strapped to the chair, they stuff a gag in your mouth to dim your screams while they scramble to ransack your apartment, turning it upside down to find the fucking parcel Marc left you with. After 15 minutes passes by, your home is a riot; furniture broken, plates, mugs and bowls smashed, everything you own on the floor. 

“Boss, it ain’t here. We’re searched everywhere.”

“It has to be!” The stout man shouts, eyes glaring at you enraged. He crouches down, fiery ageing eyes level with yours. He rips the gag out of your mouth and presents a new threat. A razor sharp knife, gleaning in the light as he holds it directly in front of your face. “For the last time. Where is the parcel?!” 

“I am telling you. I don’t know,” you spit, trying with all your might to sound as convincing as possible. “I don’t know what parcel you’re talking about. I don’t know where Marc is--I don’t even know the guy! And he sure as shit doesn’t live here. And if any of you had half a brain to actually read the letters will realise that his address is the floor above me. He never answers his fucking door and that’s why I have all his mess at my door.” 

The guy jabs the point of his knife underneath your chin, tilting your head upwards. A nauseous feeling stirs in your stomach, raising your body temperature and conjuring a little bead of sweat to drip from your hairline. Your teeth clamp down onto the inner lining of your cheek, hoping, praying, pleading for someone to burst through your door and save you.

You can’t see anything change within the man in front of you, not taking your word for gospel and the more frustrated he becomes, the more danger faces you. Temperament rising, the man grunts and knicks the skin of your chin, splicing the skin open. “Argh, fuck!” 

“Marc might not live here, but we know the parcel was delivered! And if you do end up with all his mail then it should be here. Now stop lying to me, you little bitch, and tell me where the fucking parcel is or you are going end up with a lot worse than a cut to your chin.” 

You watch in horror as he presses the edge of the knife over your wrist tied to the armrest of the chair and no amount of squirming can break the ties. Fuck, please tell me that I’m not going to lose a limb over a fucking parcel���

Tears pool in the corner of your eyes, your brave facade failing. You’re absolutely terrified

“I’ll give you some context then. That parcel contains something I want, an ancient Egyptian artefact that contains unimaginable power and would bring me a lot of wealth, and Marc Spector has no business taking it from me--” So that’s Marc’s surname. “And unless you want to keep your thieving hands, you’ll tell me where it is.” 

As he begins to press the knife’s sharp edge down onto your skin, you start to consider the depravity of the situation, the truth finding its way to your lips. There’s nothing more you want than for this to all be over, to be wrapped up warm and safe in your bed but you can’t shake the arrogance of this guy and his stooges, busting in here like he is entitled to, making a mess of your home, harming you, all to take something that was clearly meant for Marc, all because he thought it would be better with him than with Marc. 

No. Fuck that.

“I. Don’t. Know.” A glob of saliva gathers on your tongue and you spit it into the face of your capture, because if your words can’t send the message, hopefully that will. 

“You should believe her, by the way.” A voice emerges from behind you and simultaneously, all three men turn towards your front door in stupor. You try to twist your head over your shoulder as far as you can to catch a glance but he’s just out of your sight, however you don’t need to wait long before you get confirmation of who is standing at your door. 

“Marc Spector,” your captur states. “Finally.”

“Mind telling me what you’re doing in my neighbour’s apartment?”

“For the very same reason why you’re here, Marc. The parcel. Our parcel. The one you stole.” 

Marc snickers. Having gone so long without seeing what a smile looks like on his face, you’re itching to turn around and see him, but you only get as far as Thing 2 who stands with your back to you, blocking your view. “Torturing women for information? Tsk, tsk, that’s a little beneath your remit Donald, is it not? You’re wasting your time. I have the parcel locked up in storage.” An obvious lie, but not obvious enough to them. “She’s got nothing to do with it. In fact, I don’t even know her.” 

“I don’t care who I have to go through to get what is mine, whether it’s her or you, I will have it by the time the day is up. Boys!”

“Your mistake.”

In the space of a second, the three men in front of you disappear and you’re left to stare at the vast emptiness of your white walls as chaos erupts behind you. Grunts and groans of pain are spliced in between the sounds of punches and kicks being thrown, furniture breaking, bones crunching and bodies thumping to the ground, all of which you try to drown out by hunching your shoulders over your ears and closing your eyes. 

After suspenseful minutes of fighting, it’s clear one man stands victorious. Who? You don’t know. Aside from worrying about what kind of state of your apartment would be left in, you have no idea who you’ve been left in the apartment with and the likelihood of Marc succeeding against three men is slim and the anticipation is killing you.

At last, when a fully mummified figure with white glowing eyes kneels in front of you, you’re taken aback. 

“I’m so sorry, are you okay?” His hand comes to tilt your head gently, inspecting the small cut to your chin with a small tut.

“...Marc?”

The mask that covers his face dissipates to reveal the Marc you recognise, looking more worried than you had ever thought he was capable of. He begins to make quick work of your bounds, easily ripping through them with a single fingertip where all the strength in your arms couldn’t. 

“What the…”

“It’s a lot to explain. I promise, I’ll explain later. Are you hurt? Are you alright? They didn’t do anything terrible to you, did they? Fuck. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry-”

“Marc, hey, I’m okay. Just a little shaken up I think.” Now free, you come to stand in front of Marc who, weirdly enough, seems to don this mummified Egyptian regalia as a suit of armour. You remember this ‘Donald’ guy mentioning something about an ancient Egyptian artefact and you assume it has to be related to whatever Marc is wearing. You even try to mention it, but you can’t seem to get a word in with Marc fussing over your safety and blaming himself for any harm that Donald and his men have caused you as he gently dabs the blood away from your chin. After futile attempts, you decide to leave it be, marvelling over the new Marc as he carefully handles you with care despite having treated you with such indifference up until a few minutes ago. 

Donald and his two bodyguards lie unconscious (...or dead?) on your apartment floor and you look over them with satisfaction, Marc’s unparalleled strength no match for them. Marc quietly lingers behind you, observing them over your shoulder with a similar resolve until he notices the complete disarray surrounding them. 

“Sorry about the mess.” 

You chuckle lightheartedly. “I’m just glad you came when you did. They got what they deserved.”

“Look,” he pulls you away from them to lock eyes, sincerity twinkling in his irises, “I really am sorry. I thought I was careful enough to not get anyone involved in my mess, but I guess I was wrong.” 

You crunch your eyebrows together, recollecting every instance of Marc giving you the cold shoulder. You always thought he was just an unfriendly neighbour, someone who had no interest in anyone but himself, who viewed everyone as an inconvenience. But it was his safeguard, his way of not letting anyone he knew or cared about come into harm. “So you being an asshole was on purpose?” 

“Completely. It was nothing personal.”

“I see,” you sigh, but with a gentle bump of shoulders, you add “I could’ve helped you, you know. You just needed to ask.” 

He shakes his head dejectedly. “It would’ve been too much of a risk.” 

“More of a risk than not asking me? I still got caught up in the crossfire anyway, if I had known why, or at least expected it, I could’ve been better prepared. I don’t need to know what trouble you got yourself into or what shady business you run, but I’m not just your neighbour, I could’ve been a friend if you had allowed me.” 

“It had never worked out for me in the past. I didn’t want to make the same mistake again.” 

“Okay, I get it. You’re forgiven. But Marc? A word of advice for the future? Just answer your fucking mail then maybe, just maybe, I won’t need to be dragged into all of this again, yeah? They thought you lived here.” You pick up a handful of unopened letters addressed to him and bluntly shove them against his chest with an appointed look and smirk. 

He reciprocates the smile with less enthusiasm and turns his attention to your door. “Speaking of, I’ve got a very important parcel I need to track down. I actually have no idea where it is. I can’t let it fall into the wrong hands.”

“About that.” You don’t say another word as you lead him to your kitchen window, awkwardly mounting your counter to reach for the parcel lying just outside your window. As soon as you bring it into view, Marc’s face lights up like you’ve never seen before. 

“You had it?! This whole time?! I heard you tell them you didn’t have it!” 

“I’ve had it for weeks, actually. Those clowns didn’t exactly take the quiet approach when breaking into my flat so I knew what they were here for. I just had enough time to hide it before they came in. And I can be quite the convincing liar when I need to be.” 

Marc quickly discards the parcel, throwing it onto the kitchen counter before throwing his arms around you, knocking the air out of you and squeezing tightly like his life depended on it. “You…are an angel. I can’t thank you enough.”

The two of you embrace for longer than what’s normal between two neighbours, partly in Marc’s resounding appreciation and partly because it feels nice. 

“In all honesty, I was two seconds from opening the parcel myself. The curiosity was killing me.” Marc’s laughter shakes his body, his warmth slowly leaving you as he draws back. 

“I can show you if you want. I figure you’ll be needing a place to stay while we get your apartment cleaned up. It’s the least I can offer for all the trouble I’ve put you through.” 

“Yeah. That would be nice.”

[stellocchia]

I really wish that Killer being competent and observant was a more popular interpretation of him. Because to me it makes the most sense, both with the fanon Nightmare gang dynamic and with the more canon-adjacent one.

In canon adjacent interpretations, it makes no sense for Nightmare to have Killer as his right hand man unless he contributes something more than a tool could, because there isn't any emotional attachment reason for him to do so. Like, that's just a skeleton like many others. He kills good, but so do the others.

And for fanon, while you could play it as the underlying reason being favoritism (which is interesting in Its own right) that's usually not the angle people go for either. Killer tends to be relegated as the dumb silly comic relief which the others tolerate.

In general, I think him being the observant one in the gang would be a great fit for him. I mean, he had to study Chara and their moods in their partnership to survive, and in canon-adjacent situations, he had to do so with Nightmare as well. It would make sense if he became really good at reading people because of this.

For fanon Nightmare this could be great because I imagine there is still a certain level of detachment he has from the mortal experience after spending so much time as goop. He needs someone who can be more attentive and understanding of the needs of the rest of the gang.

And for canon-adjacent Nightmare, that way he has someone who can easily keep the others in line. And probably, having someone who can tell when the others are getting antsy and ready for some betrayal is a nice perk too.

Just in general, I love my boy and I love when people make him actually clever

[lnfours]

Hi!!!

“Are you wearing my sweater?” Prompt 🥹 NEED this kind of fluff in my life. Like Lando stops by readers house to see her and she answers the door wearing his hoodie 😭ugh I can’t it’s making me MELT

anon, i don't think you understand when i say that i'm obsessed with this!!

jordan's birthdat sleepover!

ever since you lando had started dating, you made it a routine that every thursday night was date night. even when he was in a different country, the two of you managed to watch a movie together while on facetime.

tonight was like every other thursday night, it was date night. your living room was set up, drinks and the snacks you had picked up at the grocery store sitting on the coffee table with a candle lit in the middle.

a knock on the door made you smile, running over to open the door. when you did, you were met with floppy brown curls and gorgeous eyes, a takeout bag in his hand as he smiled at you.

"hi," his smile was so contagious, making you smile back so wide you were sure your cheeks were going to hurt if you kept smiling.

"hi," you said, stepping aside to let him inside. he placed a kiss on your lips as he entered, the hand that wasn't holding the bag of food resting on your hip.

"are you wearing my sweater?"

you looked down, the black material wrapped around your frame. it was a tad too big, the hem of the hoodie falling at your mid-thigh and almost passing the hem of your shorts. a mclaren logo sat on the upper right side of your chest.

you shrugged, smiling as you looked back up at him, "huh, i guess so,"

"i was wondering where that went," he said, the both of you moving from the entry way and into the living room, "as long as it's in good hands that's all i care about."

"well, you're the one who left it here. what else was i supposed to do with it?" you teased.

he shook his head, laughing softly before continuing, "you look good in my clothes."

"you think?"

he nodded, "defintely. maybe next time you're over you could raid my closet."

it was true, seeing you in his clothes did something for him. made him feel a whole new level of love for you that he didn't think was possible. and if it meant you stealing every single hoodie and every single t-shirt, then so be it.

[atiny111718]

Seventeen Reactions:

Hyung line: When you send them the wrong photo

Warnings: smut, suggestive, swearing, some mentions of tits and lingerie

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Seungcheol:

Jeonghan:

Joshua:

Jun:

Hoshi:

Wonwoo:

Woozi:

[purple-imagines]

Bloated?

Pairing - Paul Lahote x FemaleReader

Summary - Reader starts gaining weight and the pack starts noticing

Warnings - body shaming, kissing, swearing, pregnancy, vomiting, period talk, Jacob being an ass, kinda ooc

Word Count - 3693

Masterlist

Friday, June 6th

"Em?" Y/N asked looking into the mirror at her stomach. "Does my stomach look, I dont know, bloated to you?"

"Um, yeah, maybe a little bit. I dont think it's anything to worry about though." The older woman replied, after looking at the girls stomach.

"I just feel like I'm getting fat. Paul probably notices too." She put her head down.

"Honey, that boy loves you more than anything. You're his whole world. You have nothing to worry about. He imprinted on you and he loves you. Now stop putting yourself down and help me make this food for them animals."

The girl laughed and started getting the table set.

Tuesday, June 10th

"Hm. That's weird."

"What?" Leah asked, the girl staying at her house.

"Nothing, just my period was supposed to start 3 days ago. I'm sure it's fine, this happens sometimes."

"If you're sure, and hurry up Elijah is about to kill Klaus."

Thursday, June 19th

The girl let out a groan, flushing the toilet after being woken up with the sudden urge to vomit.

Saturday, June 21st

All the girls, Emily, Leah, Kim, and Y/N, were all out shopping and having a girls day.

While Leah and Kim were looking through sets of bikinis. Y/N pulled Emily to the side.

"Em, I think I might be pregnant."

"What? Why do you think that??"

"Um, my periods late, my stomach looks bloated, and I've been throwing up. Not to mention Paul made my favorite dinner the other night and I couldn't stand the smell."

"We need to get you a test then, Hon."

***

After Leah and Kim left, Emily let Y/N go into the bathroom to take the test.

Coming out the bathroom, Y/N starts stressing. "What if its positive? What will Paul think? How do I deal with this?"

"Hey. Hey. Just breath. Let's first figure out if you're pregnant or not." Emily calmly says.

"Yeah, you're right." Taking a deep breath she starts to calm, until the timer goes off and her eyes get wide. "Can you check?"

Emily walks into the bathroom and looks at the test, coming out with tears in her eyes. "Um, yeah, you're pregnant"

"Oh mi gosh. Em, what am I supposed to do? Paul and I haven't even talked about kids. What if he doesn't want any?"

"Don't jump to conclusions. Take a couple days to think, and tell Paul when you're ready."

"Thank you, Emily. You always know what to say." The girl wraps her arms around the woman.

Wednesday, June 25th

The imprints made burgers and the pack was having a cookout. Everyone was making their plates. Y/N started to make her plate putting 2 burgers, each with cheese, tomato, onion, and chili. Put a little bit of slaw on the side and some chips.

"Dang girl, you're hungry today." Embry joked, making the girl laugh.

"He's not kidding you are eating a lot more lately." Jacob grumbled.

The girl got quiet and let out a silent "oh".

"What was that? Jacob." Paul growled.

"I'm just saying look at her Paul, everyone here notices how big she's getting. Maybe she should cut back."

After hearing that the girl started to stand up. Paul grabbing her hand. "Its fine, Paul. I'm just gonna go home."

She quietly grabbed her bag and apologized for the inconvenience. "Sorry, I didn't realize I did that. You can have them." Then she walked out the house. Leah chasing after her.

"What the fuck Jacob?!" Paul yelled.

"Paul." Sam warned.

"No Sam. He called her fat, she's not fat."

"We don't need a fight to break out."

"If he didn't want a fight he wouldn't have said anything."

"Paul. Enough."

Paul was shaking horribly. Sam pushed him out the house.

"Really Jacob?!" Jared called, running after Sam and Paul.

"Why is everyone so mad? I just told her how it was. You all can see how much bigger she's getting." Jacob tried to justify himself.

"That doesn't mean that you point it out." Seth told him.

"I know you were all thinking it. Just because I have the guts to tell Paul how it is doesn't make me the bad guy."

"Maybe you should learn the whole story before you go around hurting people."

"Seth. What's that supposed to mean? Seth!"

Seth ran out the house, hoping to find Leah and Y/N.

"Embry? Even you said something."

"I was joking Jake. What you did was uncalled for." Embry scoffed.

"Come on."

"Just stop Jacob." Emily snapped, causing the three left there to widen there eyes.

"Emily. Seriously? You know she's bigger!" Jacob was getting angry.

"Yeah, Jacob. She's eating more and getting bigger, but it's none of your business!" Emily snapped again.

"What if eating so much is hurting her?"

"It's not though, Jacob."

"How do you know??"

"Jacob when she is ready you'll know. Until then shut up."

"Sorry, damn."

***

"Y/N!"

"Y/N"

"Damn, you're fast."

"What do you want Leah?" Y/N sighed as she stopped and turned around, her eyes red and puffy.

"Don't listen to Jacob. He's an asshole."

"I don't care about what Jake said."

"You do or you wouldn't be crying."

"He called me fat Leah. I've never been called that before." She started to tear up. "And it's not even that I'm fat."

"What is it then?"

"Leah...I'm pregnant."

"What!? That's great news."

"Yeah, except for the fact everyone thinks I'm a pig now."

"They do not. If anyone's a pig it's Jacob. Now come on, you need the feed that little one."

***

"Paul!"

"Calm down!"

"Shift back!"

Sam phased into his wolf.

"Paul!"

"He's such an asshole." Paul snarled.

"You need to shift back. Calm down."

"I'm going to rip his throat out."

"Paul!"

"Come on Paul. She needs you." Jared joined.

"I'm trying! I can't control it."

"Calm your thoughts. Breath."

Paul started to shift back, pulling up his shorts in the process. Jared and Sam following shortly after.

***

"Y/N/N! Are you ok? You know Jake doesn't mean to be an ass." Seth tried to reassure the girl.

The girl laughed and grabbed Seth's hands. "Yes. I'm good. Thank you for checking up on me."

It was quiet for a few moments as the trio started walking back to the house. "So..." Seth piped up. "Does she know?"

Leah gasped. "What?! Know?! You told Seth before you told me!"

"He wasn't supposed to find out! He walked in on me having a meltdown about Paul." Y/N defended herself.

"Shit." The girl squeaked. "Paul! He's going to be asking questions. What am I supposed to tell him! I'm not ready. I just found out myself. I need to process this more. Stupid Jacob and his stupid big mouth!"

"Hey! Hey. Just breathe. Paul will understand if you don't want to talk." Leah reassured.

"Are you sure? Because Paul-"

Seth cut the girl off. "She's sure Y/N/N. He wouldn't pressure you into telling him something you don't want to. Now let's go eat I'm sure Little Bit in there is starving."

Both girls let out laughs.

"Um, guys, actually I was just going to go home. I don't wanna face Jacob's apologizes right now."

"Y/F/N you need to eat." Leah demanded.

"Just bring me something when you're finished? Please."

Leah sighed, knowing she wasn't changing the girls decision. "Fine. But you better eat everything I bring you."

"Pinky promise." She held up both her pinkies to Seth and Leah, Seth grabbing her pinky with his, giggling. Leah rolled her eyes, but nevertheless did the same.

"And..." The girl trailed. "Tell Paul that I took his truck. And that I'm ok?"

"So needy." Leah joked, dragging the 'y'.

"But fine I can do that."

"Thank you! You two are the best!"

"We know." They both said at the same time, causing the trio to laugh.

***

Back at home, the girl, took off her shoes and changed into pajama shorts and one of Paul's shirts.

Turning on her and Leah's favorite show to watch, 'The Vampire Diaries'. It was nice to watch people play supernatural creatures. Got their minds off of the real ones that loomed outside.

***

"Finally!" Was the first thing Leah and Seth heard as they walked through the door into Emily's and Sam's.

"Where's Y/N?" Was the second.

Leah was the one to tell Paul the situation.

"So, you just let her leave?" Paul said.

"Yes. She is a grown woman Paul." Leah retorted.

"She didn't even eat."

"I told her I would bring her something."

"I think I should go over there."

"No, you shouldn't." Sam butted in.

"And why not?!"

"Because Paul you just shifted you don't need to do that around her."

"I wouldn't hurt her." Paul glared.

"That's not the point. I said no and my answer is final. You will not go over to Y/N's tonight." Using his alpha voice, making Paul growl and leave the table.

***

"Is it bad that I'm kind of glad Sam did that?" The girl let out to her best friend.

"Yes!" Leah exclaimed.

"I just- I don't know what I would say to him."

"Your fear of confrontation is peeking through."

"Leah! This is serious."

"And I'm being serious. Paul deserves to know."

"I know. I'm just..." The girl let out a sigh. "Scared."

"You should never be scared with him. He looks at you like you're his sun. The thing that is keeping him alive."

"What if he doesn't want a baby? What if this is the one thing he can't handle with me." She whispered.

"That boy would love to start a family with you. The timing may not be ideal, but I've seen the way he looks at you. I saw the way he looked at you before the imprint. You are his literal everything and not just because fate decided you were destined. You were meant to have forever with each other way before fate decided it."

Y/N had tears in her eyes by the time Leah had finished. "I really needed that Leah." She sniffled. "I guess, sometimes, my insecurities take over. I've just been so scared, with the vampires and Bella. There's no time for a baby. Not in his life. He already has so much on him. Why do I need to add more?"

"Quit putting yourself down. You know you come first, when it comes to anything with Paul. A baby is not a burden, or something that just adds pressure. A baby can bring joy and bring people together. Maybe that's what we all need right now."

"Yeah. Maybe you're right."

"No maybe about it. I am right."

"Oh so modest." The girls giggled.

Thursday, June 26th

Awoken to heavy knocks on the front door, both girls growned, having stayed up most of the night talking.

"Y/N. Get the door." Leah grumbled.

"Why me?" The girl whined.

"It's your house."

"You kept me up all night."

"You mean you kept me up all night."

"No."

"Just open the door."

"Fine." She whined, pushing herself out of bed, looking at the clock on her nightstand that read 8:07 am.

Stomping to the door, grumbling profanities the whole way. She pulled the door open only to be greeted with-

"Paul?"

"Hey! I couldn't sleep without making sure you were ok. Jacob was an asshole. He never should have said those untrue things. I love your body and you should too. I think you're beautiful, inside and out. I don't care that you can eat two burgers, I love a woman that can hold her food. Yo-"

"Paul." She cut him off. "As sweet as this is, can we do it later? I'm sorry. Leah kept me up until 5 this morning and all I wanna do is curl up and take a hundred year nap."

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Want a cuddle buddy?" A smirk slowly rising on his face.

"You know I could never turn you down." She grinned pulling him inside and onto the couch.

***

By the time the girl woke Paul was already gone, a note in his place, telling her he had patrol but would be back after.

Leah was gone too, so the girl assumed the pack needed her as well.

Grabbing some clothes, she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

***

After a much needed shower, Y/N looked out the window and noticed Paul's truck still in the driveway and his keys still on her nightstand.

Grabbing the keys, and getting in the truck, she started her drive to Emily's.

***

"Hey Em." She called, walking inside.

"Heyyyy." Said girl peeked her head out the kitchen. "I need to talk to you."

"Ok, nothing stressful about that sentence at all."

"Have you told Paul?"

"Diving right in, I see." She muttered.

"Huh?" Emily called from the kitchen.

"Oh! Uh- no I haven't."

"Do you know when you're going to? Because I think you should soon, it'll make all this doubt you have go away."

"I don't know. Soon though, promise!"

Tuesday, July 7th

Everyone was gathered around Emily and Sam's table, laughing and joking around. Well, everyone except Jacob he was upset with Bella, which made him brood.

Y/N sat beside Paul, occasionally stealing the tomatoes off his plate, he always put them to the side for her to grab because they were her favorites and he wasn't that fond of them.

Going unnoticed by the pack and the imprints, everytime she'd take one Jacob would roll his eyes and scoff.

Grabbing the last one of Paul's plate and about to put it in her mouth she was stopped by Jacob's rude voice.

"Are you serious?" He scoffed.

Everyone looked around confused as to what his sudden outburst was about.

"Everything ok, Jacob?" Emily asked.

Jacob let out a little laugh and clicked his tongue.

This time Y/N spoke up.

"Are you upset, Jacob?"

"Me? What? No." He paused. "I do think Paul should be though."

"Why would Paul be upset?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Because his girlfriend has already had more than enough, but she's still eating. And not just that but taking it off his plate. Do you really need that much food Y/N? All it does is make you fatter, which is definitely not something you need. If anything you need to exercise more." He spat at her.

His outburst caused Kim and Emily to let out gasps. Jared and Paul standing up.

Paul had his mouth open about to say something but before he could Y/N interrupted.

"Paul. It's fine. He can feel the way he feels. I'm just gonna go home."

"No you're not." Emily piped in. "Jacob if you could please leave."

"What?" Jacob exclaimed.

"I asked if you could leave, I expect you to use respect in my house and until I see you give some to Y/N I want you to leave."

"She's not even apart of the pack."

"She's an imprint. We are apart of this pack, now are you gonna apologize or did I need to get Paul to escort you out?"

Jacob scuffed, "I'm sorry I called you fat, it may be true but it was not nice of me to say."

Paul was fuming, "I accept your apology"

"No she doesn't." Paul vented.

"Paul, it's fine I don't wanna cause a fight."

"You're not causing the fight. He is."

"He apologized. That's enough. Let's finish eating, then I have to tell you something."

***

"You wanted to tell me something?" Paul said, as he drove them home.

"Can it wait? I'm really tired and just wanna go to sleep."

"Of course, Sweetheart." He kisses her temple.

Thursday, July 9th

"I'm telling him."

All three girls let out simultaneous screams.

"Finally!" Emily exclaimed.

"Took you long enough" Leah joked.

"I still can't believe you're pregnant." Kim gasped.

"Well maybe I should wait a little longer, maybe until August?" Y/N let out a cheeky grin.

"No!" All three girls yelled.

The guys were on patrol and the imprints had the house to themselves. There was a knock at the door.

The girl laughed as she got up to get the door.

"Are you expecting anyone?" Leah questioned Emily.

"No." Emily whispered out.

"Y/N don't answer that." Leah called.

"Guys I invited someone." Y/N answered back.

"Who? We're your only friends." Leah joked.

Y/N opened the door, only for Bella to be standing awkwardly on the other side.

"Hi! Come in. Come in."

"No." Leah deadpanned.

"I thought it would be nice. Jacob really likes her."

"Why do you care what Jacob thinks? He's an ass."

"He wasn't always one. And a friend of Jake's is a friend of ours."

"Well, I think it was nice of Y/N to invite Bella. Make yourself at home Bella, the guys shouldn't be back for a while so it's just us girls. Right now we're just talking but later we're baking!" Emily clapped.

"Ok." Bella squeaked out.

"I don't think we've met. I'm Kim." She introduced herself.

"Bella." She said and waved.

"Well sit down, come on." Emily waved her over. "You ok if we still talk about.."

"Of course! As long as you promise not to tell the guys." Y/N put on her best serious face and looked Bella dead in her eyes.

"I barely talk to them."

"You can't tell Jacob."

"I won't tell Jacob."

"Ok..well I'm pregnant, the baby is Paul's and I haven't told him yet."

"Omg. Congratulations."

"Thank you! I'm kinda in this adrenaline thing right now and I'm hoping it won't wear off by the time Paul gets here." The girls giggled.

"So. Boys!" Emily exclaimed. "Jared?"

"We're really good. He's the greatest. The other day he tried to make me breakfast in bed, he got up really early, my parents were out of town, word of advice Em, never and I mean ever let Jared in the kitchen. It was sweet though he brought me fried eggs and bacon, only all of it was black." Kim laughed at the memory. "And I have a burnt spot on the wall in my kitchen, he still won't tell me what happened."

"He's such a klutz."

"But he makes it so adorable!"

The girls laughed at how in love she was.

"I already told y'all all my boy struggles." Y/N threw her hands up. "What about Sam?" She wiggled her eyebrows, causing the girls to let out giggles.

"Sam is..." Emily let out a sigh, "Sam is perfect. The wedding is soon, as you all know. But enough about me I wanna know about your love life Leah. Oh, and Bella would you like anything to drink, we've got wine and water, sorry not much."

"I'm good. Thank you." Bella muttered, still awkward.

"Leahhhh. Love life. Go." Emily may be a little tipsy.

"Can't talk about something that's non-existent."

"Leah don't lie. We're all friends here." Y/N blurted out.

"Fine. I did meet this girl....but that's all I'm saying!"

Emily and Kim let out pouts while Y/N laughed, maybe letting them have wine was a bad idea.

"You." Emily pointed at Bella.

"Me?" Bella questioned.

"Yes. How's your vamp?"

"Oh, um- he's nice, I guess."

"No. I need more than nice."

"He's really good at dancing." Bella shrugged.

"I need more." Emily begged.

Maybe Bella should of said yes to that wine.

***

It had been a good four hours and 4 out of 5 of the girls were more than tipsy. The 5th one just laughing her ass off at her friends.

The guys were in for a surprise when they came in. There was flour everywhere. In places where flour shouldn't be.

The girls were sitting in a circle in the kitchen, giggling, waiting on their cookies and brownies and muffins to be done. They got a little over board.

Then the door opened and the girls went silent. Sam walked through the door to be met with flour and baking ingredients all over the table and counters, along with 3 empty bottles of wine. He could hear whispers in the kitchen.

"Maybe if we stay really quiet they won't realize we're here." Emily whispered. The other girls giggling. "Shhhhh."

Sam peered over into the kitchen, watching the five girls huddle down, not noticing he was there. Hearing the guys he quieted them letting them look.

Emily peered up seeing the guys watch them causing her to squeak and the other girls to look up.

Each guy had an amused look on his face, watching the girls.

"Welp, grab one." Sam called.

Sam scooped Emily up into his arms, causing her to let out of squeal.

Jared did the same to Kim, and Jacob to Bella. Seth grabbed his sister, and Paul grabbed Y/N.

"Paul, wait, I have to tell you something" Y/N said. "I'm not drunk. I can't even drink."

He took the girl and sat her down outside. She stood in front of him, and he gave her a look to continue.

Hearing loud noises coming from the house, they both looked over only to see all four girls watching them with wide grins on their faces.

"What is happening?" Paul asked, with a confused smile.

In the background you could hear the girls screaming with excitement.

"Here goes nothing. Paul..."

"Yes."

"I'm pregnant."

Paul's face was pure shock, all the girls in the background screaming and cheering.

"We're gonna have a baby?"

"Yeah. We're gonna have a baby. It's why I've been getting bigger, as Jacob so kindly reminds me."

"I'll kill him if you want me to."

"I know you would."

"I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Why is the leech lover here?"

"I invited her. She's actually really nice. I get why Jacob likes her."

"I can't believe we're going to have a baby."

"Me neither."

"I love you so much."

"I love you too."

[happy74827]

Fate’s Design

[Carlisle Cullen x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Not even fate can stop forbidden love. {GIF Credits: Pinterest}

WC: 2051

Category: Angst (with a side of fluff)

Can you tell I rewatched Twilight? 👀 Edward? Jacob? Nah, I’m team Carlisle all the way.

In all seriousness, this took me so long to write out since I’m in that stage of life where there’s no free time 😭

But, regardless, here’s a fic that no one asked for (and hopefully won’t mind 👀). So, uh… enjoy :)

『••✎••』

Funny, how the world works, how fate works.

The day you had first laid eyes on him, you could tell immediately there was something different about him, something... strange. Stranger than strange.

A simple hospital visit, a clumsy fall down the stairs, and here you were, stuck in a place of healing with the smell of antiseptics and disinfectant all around you. For a simple wrist sprang, being around deathly ill people who had no sense of common courtesy was the last thing you wanted to experience.

Still, it couldn't be helped, and so you endured. Endured until that one fateful encounter.

When the nurses brought him into the room, you couldn't help but stare. A young, handsome man who looked barely a few years older than you, pale, cold skin that reminded you of the snowy tundras, and bright eyes you swore turned gold in the light.

Strange, yes. Very strange. But a very good kind of strange, the kind of strange that was captivating.

Carlisle Cullen.

You couldn't help but smile as you thought of the name, as the memories came back to you. The first meeting, the second, and then the third. You remembered all of them, every single one, and the way your heart fluttered like a caged bird each time, wanting to break free.

How long had it been since that first meeting? Five months? Six?

You couldn't be sure, but it was enough.

Enough for you to know that you loved him.

How funny, how ironic, how cruel fate was, giving you someone to love and then making it impossible to be with him.

You were just an average girl with average interests and average talents who had a boring, average job that didn't pay much and was living an average life.

But you were human; he was not.

You were a creature that could live, grow, age, and eventually die while he was frozen in time, a beautiful, timeless statue with an old soul that lived a hundred years in the span of one.

You knew this, he knew this, and that was what held you both back.

Even though you loved him, even though when he looked at you, his eyes burned with the same emotions you felt, the two of you were still unable to come together.

You would’ve given up had it not been for your own stubbornness, your own will to hold on, to see this through to the end.

He was worth it, and you knew it.

And so, you decided it didn’t matter if your time with him would be short because you would spend it happily, without regret.

After all, a few months spent with him was better than none at all.

You found yourself storming into the hospital, pure determination set on your face as you went up to the reception desk and demanded to know where Carlisle Cullen was.

The nurse gave you an odd look but didn’t question you further, and after giving her the information she needed, she directed you to his office.

You were assured he was filing papers, so you didn’t bother with knocking. Instead, you barged in with the burning desire to make your mark, to make your presence known, to show him, without any doubt, how you felt.

You didn't care if he was startled by your sudden entrance, and as you approached him, he stood up, surprise written on his face.

"I’m done, Carlisle," you said, your tone final, a declaration. "I’m so done."

He tilted his head in confusion.

Your hands came to a fist as you rested them against his desk, eyes narrowed and burning.

"I'm done holding back," you said, voice steady. "If you don’t kiss me right now, I'll never forgive you."

Your name came out as a soft sigh from his lips, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through you at the sound of it. The mellow, gentle tone that held your entire being was always catching you off guard, even after all this time.

It wasn’t fair; it really wasn't.

"Kiss me, goddamnit!" You yelled at him, the demand clear in your tone.

And, like always, he denied you. In fact, he practically told you to shut up in his own way by bringing attention that you were still… quite literally, in the hospital.

You didn’t care. It was obvious by the way you kept going at him, demanding he take action.

And then, a gush of wind.

Your eyes widened, and before you could utter a word, the door from behind slammed shut. Not enough to create a loud bang, but enough to get your attention, and when you looked over, his arm was extended out, hand resting on the door.

Just inches away from your head.

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up at him.

He was towering over you completely, and the proximity made your breathing hitch. His gaze was intense and golden, and it burned right through you like it always did. But you weren’t scared, not even the slightest bit.

This was what you wanted, after all.

So you kept silent and waited for him to make the first move. Any move, really.

A few seconds passed, and then, ever so slowly, he lowered his head. But he didn't lean down far enough, no. Instead, his face inched closer and closer to yours until, finally, all you could see were his eyes.

And all you could think about was his lips.

"As much as I want to," he began, voice soft and smooth. "You and I both know it's not that easy."

"Yes, it is," you retorted, stubborn. "You're just making it hard."

"I'm being realistic."

"Realistic? Really?" Your face twisted into a scowl. "Says the man who's not even human."

"That's precisely why," he said. "You’re…"

His voice quivered, just slight enough to be noticeable. It made your heart ache, and you were ready to interrupt him, to say that it didn’t matter; nothing else did.

But you stopped yourself.

It was only right to hear what he had to say.

"You truly wish to want… this? To give up the happiness of your future, the family you deserve, to be drowned in sorrow, all for me?"

His words were sincere, his voice quiet, and the expression on his face was one you could barely comprehend.

"Drowned…? Drowned?!" You echoed his words; brows knitted in a deep frown. "Carlisle, I'm already drowning! Right now!"

You paused, trying to calm yourself, but you could feel tears prickling your eyes. This wasn’t how you had imagined it going.

"It hurts," you confessed, voice low. "It hurts me that you don’t understand, that you think so little of yourself."

Carlisle's breath caught, and his lips parted in surprise, but you weren’t finished yet.

"It hurts me that you think I could ever be happy without you," you continued, your voice rising a bit. “Carlisle, I have found happiness in you. I am happy with you. The day we met, I was a wreck; my wrist was a wreck… everything was a wreck. But then you came, and now, now I'm happy. You make me happy."

The look on his face was unreadable, but it didn’t deter you from speaking your mind.

"Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see that you’ll always be twice the man than any other human being out there?"

Silence.

He didn’t answer, and the longer the silence stretched, the more your heart hurt. Carlisle was a good man; he was. He was a good doctor, a good father, and, of course, a good-looking guy.

He deserved the world.

And if the world couldn't give it to him, you would.

"If you can't see it, then fine," you finally spoke, and it was almost a whisper. "Then I'll do it for you. I'll tell you every day. I'll keep telling you until it sticks."

The corners of your mouth tugged upwards into a shaky smile.

"Even if I have to keep yelling at you."

He exhaled, and suddenly, he looked much more relaxed, and you realized that you had gotten through to him.

It made the tears that were gathering in your eyes spill over.

"At least I know you wouldn’t toss me aside when my personality eventually overpowers my looks," you mumbled, laughing.

"Toss you aside?"

There was a sudden, sharp edge to his tone, and when his hand came to rest under your chin, gently, carefully, your eyes shot up, staring into his own.

You didn't realize it, but the way you looked at him, the expression on your face, it made him see something different, something he never expected.

A woman who loved him. Truly, sincerely, deeply, and completely.

He couldn’t believe it, and yet, you were right there, in front of him, your eyes shining and reflecting nothing but adoration and admiration.

Your eyes were shining, but not with sadness, no, not anymore.

It was a beautiful sight, one he would remember for all of eternity.

"I'd be a fool to do that," he whispered, his tone sincere, and when his other hand came up, his fingers brushing over your cheek, a featherlight touch, he could hear your breath catch.

"A complete and utter fool."

You watched the smile grow on his lips, and it was so beautiful, it was unreal.

But this, the feeling of his hand on your skin, the coldness contrasted by the warmth of your own body, the gentleness of his touch, it was surreal.

"Carlisle," you murmured, and he was still staring at you, but there was a new intensity in his gaze. "Let me give you the happiness you deserve. Let me."

You took a small step forward, and his hand was still resting under your chin. You didn't dare move or speak again, not until you could read his face, the expression on his features.

It was difficult, however, and just when you thought he wouldn't say anything, he spoke.

"I can't guarantee the future or the happiness," he admitted. "Not for myself, and not for you, but-"

"But?" You couldn’t help but smirk.

"I can try," he answered. "For your sake, I'll try."

You should’ve expected the response after that, the speed at which his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you forward, and his other hand, moving downwards to rest on the small of your back.

You should've, but you didn't.

All you could do was stare at him, your eyes widening, and just when you opened your mouth to speak, to say something, anything, his lips were on yours, and all the coherent thoughts left you.

You could hear the thumping of your heart, loud, thundering, and it drowned out all the other sounds around you.

He was gentle and careful, and the kiss was nothing more than a brief, feather-light press of his lips, but it was enough. It was enough to set your whole body on fire, to have you lean in, to have your hands come up, grasping onto his lab coat for dear life.

You could feel the coldness of his skin, but the taste of his lips was indescribable.

He tasted sweet, like vanilla, and the longer his lips were on yours, the more the flavor lingered until you couldn’t remember how your own lips had ever tasted.

When he finally pulled away, it was as if the world was spinning and all the strength left your body.

"We're not in the clear just yet," he murmured, his gaze still intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "There are many things we have to talk about and many things to work out, but-"

"Carlisle," you breathed out, your grip on his coat tightening. "Don’t talk. Just relish."

You leaned forward, and he did the same, his eyes fluttering shut, and as your lips connected with his, your mind was filled with a single thought.

This.

This was right.

It was perfect, and the world was a better place.

The funny thing about fate is that if two people are meant to be, no matter the time, the place, or the circumstances, they'll find each other.

The two of you were living proof.

[books-books-smolderinglooks]

"He hadn’t realised how grey his life had been until Simon had come tumbling in in full technicolour, making everything feel brighter." ❤️ From Anywhere With You by @gulliblelemon. 💜