#paired with secretly soft caring hunks

[extreme-neutral]

He's getting vicious threats, send help.

[lifes-better-on-saturn]

Birthday Girl - Chris Evans

REQUEST

The reader (me ) is dating chris evans, and its the readers birtday, and chris evans is spoiling her, taking to the hair salon and to the nail salon , and the trows a party for her, and he asks her to marry him, and a couple months later the reader is asked to been on say yes to the dress and alot of fluff please

@maximeevansblog

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A/N: It took way too long but here we go. Definitely not very well edited. Hope you like.

WARNINGS- pure fluff, tiny tiny illusion to smut, marriage.

Hope you enjoy :)

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“Babe, wake up.” You groaned as you rolled over, waving your hand in the direction of the voice. You heard a husky chuckle, before a pair of soft lips pressed to the top of your hand. “Get up, baby. I made breakfast, well brunch.” Your eyes shot open at the mention of food and you turned to see you handsome boyfriend of 4 years towering over the bed with a tray in his hands.

You sat up rubbing the sleep from your eyes as the tray was placed over your lap. You looked at the food before gazing up at Chris.

“Happy Birthday, baby.” You smiled as he leaned down and pressed his soft lips against yours.

“Thank you, honey.”

“No problem, pretty girl.Now eat up and after you finish that, we’re taking a shower and i’m taking you out, ok?” He said as he put his hands on his hips. You nodded before tilting your head up to receive one last kiss which he happily obliged and then you begun your meal.

Less than 15 minutes later you were up and out of your bed standing in your morning glory of a bra and short shorts. Chris’ large hands wrapped around your hips lightly pushing you towards the adjacent bathroom.

“Make sure you just don’t wash your hair, ok.” He smiled as you turned you around. Cocking an eyebrow you smirked.

“What’s up your sleeve?” You eyed him up as he moved closer. He ran his hand up and down your arm lovingly while staring into your eyes.

“Nothing. Just wanna spoil my special girl. Now go, we gotta be outta here in 20 minutes. Go.” He kissed your cheek and spun you around, giving your ass a slap before gently pushing you forward.

-time skip-

20 minutes later you were in the car with Chris, your favourite songs echoed through the car loudly and you both yelled the lyrics.

Eventually you pulled up out the front of a hair dressers, a very expensive some mind you. Chris turned to you and winked before making his way out of the car and to your side to let you out.

“Baby, what are we doing here?” You looked into his ocean blue eyes as they gleamed with happiness,

“I Told you i wanna spoil you. Now come on.” He grabbed you hand and pulled you into the salon. The receptionist smiled and ushered you through a doorway to a chair. Chris smiled at you before waving goodbye.

“I’ll be back when your done, love.” He blew you a kiss and made his way out to the car. You sat in the chair as a platinum blonde lady walked through stopping at your chair.

“Hey there darlin, my names Christy and I’ll be doing your hair today.”

You smiled as she directed you to another room with cushy chairs and sinks.

-and another time skip-

Two relaxing hours later you looked at yourself in the mirror in front of you, the stylist beaming ear to ear as she rested her hands on the back of your chair.

Not only had she magnificently done your hair but also your make up leaving you with a gorgeous natural glam look.

“Do you like it?” She asked as she continued to smooth out your hair.

“I love it, thankyou so much. How much do i owe you?” You asked as she led you to the reception area.

“I’m afraid, that’s already been taken care of.” You turned around just to meet that handsome hunk of a man, you called your boyfriend leaning against the desk.

He moves over to you leaning in for a kiss but You quickly turn your head away so his lips meet your cheek. He looks at you confused before you smile before pointing to your lips.

“Lipstick.” He chuckles, kissing just beside your mouth and moving away and saying goodbye to the hair dresser and the receptionist.

You made you way back to the car hoping in and seeing a dry cleaners bag in the back.

“What’s that?” You turn to grab it before chris grabs your hand pulling it back to him.

“Gotta wait for that baby.” You playfully scowled at him before settling into your seat.

You drove about 5 minutes up the road to another cute, -expensive- salon, only this one being a nail salon.

“Second last stop, babyyyy.” He smiled pulling you out of the car once again.

You walked up to the receptionist, again the girl immediately recognising Chris.

“Ahhh, Christopher! Your here, come on through.” The lady exclaimed as she hurried you both through the doorway into a small, private room, with a nail technician getting her tools ready.

“Ah! Hi guys! I’ll be going your nails today, Mrs Evans, if you’d like to take a seat just here and Mr Evans there’s chair there if you’d like to sit.” You looked back at Chris as you moved to sit down stunned by the names. You felt like telling her you weren’t Mrs Evans but secretly you loved the ring it had and the butterflies it sent up your stomach.

“I would love to sit, but i’ve got a few more things to take care of.” Chris spoke running his hand along your shoulders and leaning down to kiss you.

“I’ll be back baby.” With that he walked out the door. You smiled as the lady started on your nails.

Little did you know Chris was going back and forth between the house during your appointments getting things ready for tonight.

After this past year all Chris wanted to do was spoil you. Covid and quarantine did not treat you well and it took a toll on both of you, but now he could doing something so he’d secretly sent out invites to some of your closest friends and your family including his inviting them to celebrate you and if everything goes right, your engagement. Chris had had the ring from about the 6 month mark and You’re now four years in and he couldn’t be more sure.

He walked through the house and into the back yard to see he mum, Scott, his sisters and a few of his friends all assisting in putting up lights and setting tables. Before he walked outside he made his way to your shared bedroom grabbing the roses and rose petals. Before he laid them down he placed a black silk dress with some black crystal strap heels on the bed before sprinkling some pink and red roses over the bed and the floor leading to the bedroom and your bed.

Smiling at his work he made his way back towards his back yard where he was immediately ambushed by his niece and nephews. He walked over to the group with one of them in his arms, leaning over and placing a kiss on his mums cheek.

“Ma, this looks great. Really great.” He smiled as the child in his arms was taken.

“No problem. Anything for that gorgeous girl of yours. Now where is she. Is it almost time?” Lisa was definitely very very excited. Almost more excited than Chris.

“Yes, Yes, ma i gotta get her in about... 10 minutes.” Checking his watch, he ran back up the stairs muttering a quick ‘i’ll be back’ and changing into some plaid pants, a white shirt and a brown jacket.

“Okayyy, i’m going to get the birthday girl. Remember be real quiet when we get back.” He smiled as everyone waved good bye.

10 minutes later you smiled admiring your freshly done nails. You looked over as the bell of the door rang seeing Chris walk in sunnies on all dressed up.

You got up and met him half way, holding your hand out and wiggling your fingers.

“Damn, babyyy.” He smiled lifting your hand closer to his face before pressing a kiss to it. He smiled up at you looking over his glasses, blue eyes gleaming. “So pretty, honey.” He smiled once more before quickly paying the bill and waving to the ladies.

The whole way home you watched as his leg bounced and his hand wrapped and unwrapped itself from yours.

You pulled up to the house and got out of the car, Chris quickly led you toward your bedroom. He rest his hand on the knob giving you a smirk before swinging the door open.

You let jaw dropped as you saw the flowers and black dress resting on the bed.

“Oh, Chris.” You moved to the dress smiling as you lifted it. Turning you smiled as you watched chris rock back and forth a shy smile.

“Wanted to spoil you baby. Now put it on. Got one last surprise.” He smiled leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

Smiling you slipped from your jeans and shirt into the dress. You smiled as you checked your -frankly- gorgeous figure out in the mirror before a loud knock interrupted your admiring. You called out to come in and in walked Scott all nice in a button up and jeans.

“Scott! What are you doing here!?” You smiled as he enveloped you in a hug.

“I came to see my favourite girl!! and Chris made me come get you and bring you down stairs.” Stepping back he gave you a quick once over before grabbing your hand making your twirl.

“You look gorgeous babyyy. I love it!” You smiled and giggles before you were lead out the room and towards the back yard. Before you got to the door you were instructed to close your eyes.

“Good god, what are you doing to me.” Scott laughed and lead to carefully to the back step.

Silently he stepped away from you to stand in front of you along with the rest of your friends and family.

“Umm, Scott can i take my hands away now??” You chuckled and before long two strong hands were lifting your own off your face.

As your eyes adjusted to the light Chris stepped in front of you with everyone else as everyone yelled “Surprise!” and “Happy Birthday!”’s

You jumped and laughed as you looked at the sea of people.

Chris slowly walked towards you before whispering “happy birthday” and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“Did you do this?” You asked. He grabbed your hands smiling and turned to everyone else.

“Yes i did. Do you like it?” For the first time since you stepped outside you looked around seeing the fairly lights everywhere small tables, and the couches, blankets and cushions for everyone.

“Baby i love it. Thankyou so much.” You smiled leaving a long, lingering kiss on his plump pink lips.

Soon as your moment was over you moved over to say hi and thank you to everyone for the birthday wishes and for turning up.

About an hour and a half later you were standing around talking to some old friends when a glass clinking echoed around the yard. You turned to see Chris standing on a chair.

“‘Scuse me! Can i have your attention!” Everyone turned as he cleared his throat one last time.

“Just wanted to make a quick speech. Y/N, Baby, if you could come here please.” You quickly made you way over to where he stood now on the ground. He took your hand before turning to everyone.

“This woman is one of the kindest, most loving, most beautiful women i’ve ever met and had the pleasure of being with. She is forever teaching me new things and i’m so deeply in love her for everything she does for me and my family,” he looked you in the eyes smiling, “I want to keep this woman in my life for the rest of my life so i guess what i’m trying to say is..” he let go of your hand, his sliding into his pocket and pulling out a little velvet box. You eyes widened and your hand flew to your face. He smiled nervously as he slowly lowered himself to one knee.

“Y/N, baby, will you stay by my side forever. Will you put up with me and my bullshit for the rest of our lives. But most of all, will you please make me the luckiest and happiest man on this earth, and marry me?” Tears pooled in both your eyes as your voice got caught in your throat. Not trusting your voice you nodded, your head almost detaching from your neck.

You bent down slightly cupping the side of his face and pressing your lips to his in a feverish kiss, his free hand coming up to cup your face in return. You pulled back whispering a yes as he stood and pressed your foreheads together. Looking down he slipped the diamond onto your finger. You smiled down at it before locking eyes with your now-fiancé.

“I love you so much, Chris. I can’t think of anything better, than spending the rest of my life with you.” You smiled kissing him one last time.

Neither of you had noticed Scott with his phone out filming everything. Turning to everyone he grabbed your hand swinging it in the air and shouting “She said yes!!!” You laughed and everyone cheered quickly moving to congratulate you two.

The rest of the night went past in a blur Chris barely leaving your side and you barely leaving his as everyone drank and celebrated both your and your engagement.

Eventually the night ended about 12.30 am, everyone heading to bed, you with your fiancé. Man you’d never get sick of saying that.

-9 Months later-

you walked into the boutique, Randy meeting you, your best friends and mum at the entrance, camera crews lurking behind.

“Hello, hello!!!! Y/N! How are you!?” You smiled giving him a hug.

“I’m good! How are you?” Answer with a “fantastic” and you introduced Randy to your mum and best friend before be less through the lobby to the rooms with all the dresses.

“Okay, so, what were we thinking?” Randy clapped his hands together.

“Umm so i was thinking something princess-y like a ball gown, but a strapless, you know??” You said as you avoided the cameras.

Being Chris’ girlfriend turned fiancé you were used to cameras but it still made you nervous sometimes.

“Okay, we’ve got a perfect range for you, if you come with me we’ll chose two or three and go back to the change rooms and try them on.” he placed a hand on your lower back leading you away from your family.

About 10 minutes later you walked out in a plain white ball gown -https://pin.it/5cuCPCq- with a slit for your leg. Standing on the podium you looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a gorgeous dress but, just didn’t feel right.

You turned to your guests and splayed out your hands beside you. You mother clasped her hands over her mouth murmuring how beautiful you look. While your best friend looked at you with a proud smile.

“So what do you think?” Your mum smiled as you turned back to look at yourself.

“I like it. It’s gorgeous, but it just doesn’t quite feel right.” Your cocked your head to the side as you surveyed yourself.

Chris would love this but this was for you.

Randy smiled. “Well it looks gorgeous but we still have more to try.” Once again he help out his hand helping you down before walking you back to the room.

You tried on one more that wasn’t right before trying on the last one. As soon as you put it on, you felt your body light up. You looks down and smoothed the skirt.

Holy Shit

You walked out, back to the stand immediately turning to your mum. Her hands flew to her mouth covering it as tears sprung to her eyes. Before you teared up yourself you looked to your best friend who was nodding furiously.

“My Goodness! It’s gorgeous!!!” Your best friend gushed as you smiled widely, so wide it felt as if your cheeks would split.

You turned to the mirror getting proper view of yourself.

“Sooooo,” Randy’s voice broke you from your thoughts. Your turned to see his equally bright and smiling figure. “Might this be a yes?” His hands clasped together and pressed to his lips. Turning back for one last once over you nodded.

“Yeah. It’s a big yes!” You smiled as everyone rushed up to you hugging what they could.

Randy and the assistant’s clapped as you twirled in celebration.

-3 months later.-

The dress was perfect, the ceremony was perfect, everything was perfect.

The wedding was everything you could have dreamed of from the forest ceremony and the reception.

Lights lined the trees and the under cover canopies. Tables littered these canopies flowers and napkins with the writing Mr&Mrs Evans embroidered on them.

Everyone spent the night dancing and laughing and celebrating you. The place was filled with close friends and family and a couple of A-listers including good ole Sebastian and Anthony, Scarlett and Robert and more.

Once the night was over Chris carried you bridal style (lol) through the threshold of your already shared home, before walking you to the room and placing you down.

Chris continued to worship you all night from small light kisses to consummating the marriage (wink wink) all night.

To say you were the happiest you’ve ever been was an understatement, and this was going to be the rest of your life.

Nothing could be better that this. Now Mrs Evans. Damn.

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Ta-da!! Finished

Thanks for ready, go check out my other stuff :)

(master list is in the works lol)

[lancermylove]

Older Brother (HC)

Fandom: FFVII

Pairing: Sibling relationship with the FFVII males

Warning: None

Prompt: If you were his younger sister....

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Angeal

He would be the most protective brother to ever live. The soldier would not permit you to date, and if any guy even looked at you in a flirty manner, Angeal’s glare would be enough to send the guy running. If it was in Angeal’s hand, he would want you to date your husband after you’re married to him. Angeal’s tagline is and always will be “old school for the win.”

He would be sure to teach you self-defense in case you needed to protect yourself when he wasn’t around.

Angeal would fulfill all your wishes and spoil you as much as he could. He wouldn’t want you to suffer the way he did as a child.

He would be the older brother who would let you give him all types of hairstyles and even let you try out makeup on him. Though every time you would give him a makeover, Angeal would be a bit apprehensive about Zack finding out. After all, he knows all too well that if Zack learned about this soft side, the entire soldier division would find out.

Zack

He would be the world’s coolest older brother. Zack would spoil you to the core because you would nothing less than a princess to him.

He would not be able to say no to you. When you wanted something as a kid and your parents said no, Zack would secretly fulfill your wishes. All he would want to see is a smile on your face. He would even agree to wear matching sibling outfits and would totally buy t-shirts that say “I have the best sister in the world”.

Zack would be willing to listen to anything and everything you have to say to him. He would even try his hardest to give you the best advice.

You better like hugs because Zack would give you hugs every time he sees you. The entire soldier department would also know about you as Zack would talk about you ALL the time.

Like Angeal, Zack would let you give him all the makeovers in the world. Though he wouldn’t care if any of his friends or colleagues were to learn about this. Not that they would be surprised.

Reno

Reno would be the type of brother that would tease you to no end. He would be a complete prankster...shaving cream to the face prank in the morning, fake bugs in beverages, toothpaste in Oreos...you name it. In fact, if you look at his search history, the majority of it would consist of “how to prank siblings”.

Despite his teasing, Reno would be the brother that would turn into a complete clown just to make you smile. He would have no problem giving up his cool attitude if it means your happiness.

If you ever told him that you have a boyfriend, he would want to meet the guy right away. After all, Reno would be more than happy to find a partner in crime to prank you.

Cloud

He would be a sweet, quiet older brother who, just like Zack, would be willing to listen to anything you say to him. He would make sure you would comfortable enough to tell him anything.

Though he would be the older sibling, most of the time, Cloud would be the one requiring emotional support. After everything he has been through, he would want a reliable shoulder to lean on.

Cloud would be very protective of you because he has lost loved ones before, and the last thing he wants is for you to suffer the same fate. He would want you to call or message him every hour so that he would know you’re safe. Sometimes that would get suffocating for you, but remembering his past, you would do your best to brush it aside.

Sephiroth

First and foremost, guys would be too scared to approach you as Sephiroth would be sure to let everyone know that you’re his sister. You would have a better chance if you were to fall for Angeal, Genesis, or Zack. Any other guy would most likely be beaten to a pulp most likely killed by your brother.

Sephiroth would surely teach you how to fight even if you don’t want to be a soldier. He would even ask Angeal to train you if he was too busy with his missions.

He would not be as comfortable to talk as he’s not emotional, but if you feel sad, he would be willing to lend an ear. At the end of the day, he would ask you to be strong because no sibling of his would be a weakling. Sephiroth understands the language of tough love more than any other. Despite that, he would wrap his wing around you if it made you feel better.

He would also hand you his wallet and wouldn’t care even if you spend all his cash or maxed out his cards. Though if he sees your shopping bags, he would shake his head and say “You’re too spoiled for your own good”.

Genesis

Like Sephiroth, Genesis would also beat up kill any guy who would attempt to flirt with you. He would prefer if you dated someone he knows well, maybe someone from his friend circle.

Considering your family background, you would already be spoiled, but Genesis would take things one step further and spoil you even more. He would give you your own card as he would want you to be as stylish as him.

You would have the entire Loveless memorized from the first word to the last. Unfortunately for you, you were never given a chance to complain about not wanting to hear Genesis recite the book to you. Your punishment for being related to the great Genesis.

He wouldn’t be the type to listen to your problems, but he would be sure to take you to Angeal and ask you to talk to him. Genesis knows that he isn’t good at giving advice, so he would leave that to his best friend. That would either lead to you thinking of Angeal as an older brother or as a love interest. Not that Genesis would have an issue with you dating the hunk of a commander.

Rude

He would be the quiet older brother that would listen to you talk for hours. Rude may be quiet but he would give sensible advice about anything and everything.

Rude wouldn’t mind you dating anyone—anyone except Reno that is. He knows his partner all too well and wouldn’t want you dating the cocky redhead. If you truly loved Reno though, he would try to accept the relationship.

The question you would get asked the most would be “how does Rude fit all the sunglasses in his suit”. You tried to ask Rude about his secret, but to your dismay, he said there are hidden pockets in his blazer. To this day you refuse to believe his simple and straightforward reply.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 5: REVELATIONS

Word Count: 4471  Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader; teased Eudora Patch x Reader Rating: M Content Warnings: fairly graphic description of injury, blood, language Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Allegiances || Masterlist

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The first thing you were aware of was the high, tinny ringing. It was quite possibly the most annoying noise you had ever heard, and you were pretty sure it was coming from inside your own head so you couldn’t cover your ears and make it go away. Your eyelids felt heavy, like there was something keeping them from opening, and your mouth felt cottony. Your stomach roiled with nausea. The more of your body returned to your awareness the worse you felt.

“Ugh,” you groaned, voice cracking from disuse. As you forced your eyes to open, thankful that your power even in its most dormant form kept the light from burning them, you registered the meeting of concrete and grey-brown bricks wavering in your vision.

You tried to push yourself to a seated position and immediately felt resistance.

“Woah, hey, you shouldn’t move so fast,” Diego said, pressing lightly on your shoulder to hold you in place.

“Am I in your weird boiler room house?” you slurred. “How did I get here?”

You heard him chuckle. “Well after you passed out, I figured you could use some looking after…and then when you weren’t waking up…I was getting ready to take you to a hospital.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that sounded like you were worried about me,” you smirked, throwing back his own words at him.

“I was,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Of course I was.”

You found yourself at a loss for words, and not just because your head was still fuzzy and ringing (the feeling was fading some the longer you were awake).

“How are you feeling?”

“Like death slightly warmed over.”

He grimaced.

“Seriously, two questions: how long was I out for, and why does my leg still feel like it’s on fire?”

“It’s been a few hours. That’s why I was…”

“Worried?” you supplied as he floundered.

He nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. As for your leg, you did get shot. It was pretty bad. I stopped the bleeding but the bullet is…still in there.”

“What?!” you jolted up at that, ignoring the pain and spinning sensation, staring at Diego in shock.

“I didn’t want to do anything while you were unconscious! In case you’d prefer an actual doctor do it or something went…wrong…” you registered the tinge of fear in his voice and felt a little less mad at him for leaving a hunk of metal embedded in your calf muscle.

“Well…I’m awake now so if you think you can get it out safely…I trust you to,” you admitted softly, reaching out to rest your hand on top of his where it sat on your bedside.

It was then you registered that not only were you lying in his bed, but he was kneeling awkwardly beside it, and probably had been since before you woke up. Your heart fluttered at the thought that he had been watching over you, taking care of you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yep. Definitely.” You shot him a grin that you hoped looked convincing and not as crazed as you felt in that moment.

He nodded, rising from his crouch and wincing in a way that, once again, suggested he had been in the position for a while, moving about the fairly small room gathering the first aid supplies he’d need. Your eyes traced him as he washed everything down with rubbing alcohol and soap and water, as he pulled on a pair of cheap rubber gloves, and returned to your side.

“You’re going to have to turn for me to get to the wound,” he said, gesturing. “And so I can put down a towel so you don’t bleed everywhere.”

You rolled your eyes, complying with his direction.

“I notice you don’t have any lidocaine or anything there in your little bullet treatment kit…” you observed, biting your lip nervously.

“No, sorry. I could go out and get some, but it’s late so I don’t know what’s open and the sooner we get the bullet out the better.”

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice rising an octave, betraying your fear.

He knelt back down, carefully unwinding the bandage. You couldn’t help but stare down at the inflamed skin, the horribly red, still sluggishly bleeding opening in your leg, stomach turning at the thought that it was an actual hole through skin and muscle, and you were lucky not bone and not anywhere more severe than your lower leg. Diego, noticing your expression, reached over to give your hand a quick squeeze before turning to the work.

You hissed, doing everything in your power not to flinch away as Diego rested his hands on your calf.

“I’m s-sorry,” he murmured, and you frowned, catching the slight stutter in his voice, something which you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s okay. It’s…are you sure you can do this?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I’ve dug bullets out of myself before so…”

“Okay, gonna revisit that later, but for now, I trust you. I still wish we had something to numb the pain first though…”

After that, things became a bit of a blur. You were pretty sure at some point you screamed. It felt like your leg was being rent open by the fiery claws of the devil. You must have passed out again, because the next thing you remembered was someone lightly tapping on your cheek and opening your eyes to see Diego’s face, eyes wide in panic and lip quivering, swimming into focus.

“Fuck me with a cactus, it would have been gentler,” you muttered, wincing. “At least tell me it’s over?”

He smiled, chuckling at your colorful phrasing. “Yeah, bullet’s out, pretty cleanly and I redressed the wound. Now you just need to rest and recover and keep it clean so it doesn’t get infected.”

“Well, thank you then, Doctor Hargreeves. I guess I owe you one, and should get out of your hair.” You shifted like you were going to try to get to your feet and he immediately reached out to stop you.

“You’re not…bothering me. And I’d rather know you were okay. Besides, there’s no way you can walk on that yet. Just…get some sleep.”

“You look almost as exhausted as I feel, and there’s not exactly another bed around…” you pointed out, watching him blush and look away with a slight flush of your own.

“I’ll sleep on the floor. It’s fine.”

“Diego…” you started to protest, but were cut off by a rapid knocking sound.

“Diego, you can’t keep avoiding me,” Patch called, from the other side of the boiler room door. “I know you were at the bank robbery so I need a statement, before someone else issues a warrant.”

“Really?” you groaned. “Terrible timing, Officer.”

“Relax, Eudora is…was…she’s fine. You’ll be fine,” Diego mumbled half-heartedly, moving to open the door and let her in.

You glared at his back as he did so, annoyed that he had managed to avoid the conversation entirely, and once again you two had danced, just out of each other’s reach. You shifted hastily and tugged at the quilt at the end of the bed to try and hide your injury without causing too much pain. Still, you whimpered softly, catching both their attention as she entered the little room.

“Y/N?! What the hell happened?” she said, rushing over to you.

“Heeey, Dora. Oh this?” you gestured down to your leg and the small spot of red seeping through the gauze. “Bank robbers. No respect,” you said with a forced chuckle and a shake of your head. You felt your head swim a little at the movement and began to regret expending the energy so quickly after the secondary trauma of Diego’s impromptu surgery. “Luckily it was just a little bullet and Diego here doesn’t make a bad triage nurse.”

“Wait you two know each other?” he asked, his tone maybe as much frightened as confused.

“While you were off the grid, we hung out. Dora’s great,” you said, flashing her a wink over his shoulder and giggling at his stunned expression, feeling strangely giddy.

“Y/N,” she sighed. “I think you need a hospital, not a little first aid from this idiot.”

“Nah, I’m fine. Why do you say that?”

“You just ‘winked’ with both eyes. And you look a little green around the gills.”

“Still knew I was winking though,” you smirked before frowning in puzzlement. “But I don’t have gills…”

You didn’t catch her response, or Diego’s as the darkness rushed back in to claim you and you slumped back into his bed.

~

Patch was headed for the payphone in the hall, probably to call an ambulance, while Diego hesitated, torn between stopping her and making sure Y/N was alright.

“Eudora, don’t,” he finally managed to get out. “She won’t appreciate it.”

“She won’t appreciate anything if she dies of blood loss,” Patch shot back, glaring at him. “Besides it’s just a hospital, what’s the problem?”

He sighed. None of this was his to tell. Y/N might never forgive him. But still, he had to try and make Eudora understand. He gestured for her to come sit beside him.

“Look. It’s not a serious wound. I’m pretty sure her exhaustion and slipping in and out of consciousness is from stress. I don’t think she’s ever…done something like that before.”

“Like what, Diego? Been in a bank robbery?”

“No,” he shook his head and his voice was soft as he continued, “stopped one.”

“I don’t understand.” Patch was frowning, that confused little furrow forming between her brows which Diego (and you) secretly found cute.

“You remember how I told you about my siblings and me?”

“Yeah your Umbrella School or whatever…”

“Academy.” He frowned at how quickly the correction, almost a defense, jumped out.

She rolled her eyes.

“Anyway, there were more kids that my father couldn’t get.”

“Are you saying Y/N has superpowers like you do?”

“Not just like mine but…yeah. She can control light or something. She had a more scientific explanation.” He shrugged.

“So the flares that stunned the robbers, and several hostages…?” There was something like awe on Patch’s face.

“Were her. When they turned a gun on that kid…she just reacted.”

“Shit.” Patch rocked back on her heels, pinching the bridge of her nose the way she always did when she was stressed, and Diego knew at least part of her was trying to figure out how that was going to screw with the reports, or if she was just going to conveniently leave it out. “But what does this have to do with taking her to the hospital?”

“She’s not…trusting doctors and hospitals is hard when you’ve got a big secret like this, especially when it contributes to the problem you need treated. Plus she’s stubborn; she won’t like being forced to accept help.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t like this at all. But if you’re sure…?”

He met her eye sincerely. “I am.”

She watched as Diego returned to his ministrations, checking your pulse and adjusting the bandages, which you had managed to rumple in your shifting about, such that the long gauze strips no longer fully covered the wound.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Patch mused. “And it’s obvious that you care a lot about Y/N.”

“You’re one to talk. You never let me call you ‘Dora.’”

She blushed, looking away. “It’s not like that. Not… really. Nothing like what’s between you and her.”

“There’s nothing…we’re n-not…” Diego suddenly found himself unable to look at either woman.

He had been in love with Eudora, once, and still felt strongly for her, even if the romantic connection between them had been severed and probably wouldn’t ever come back together. But there was something about Y/N that just felt right. She made him feel seen and understood and like he didn’t need to still be ‘Number Two of The Umbrella Academy,’ he could just be Diego. She made him smile, more freely than he could remember doing in years. He’d missed her terribly while he was away, while they weren’t speaking to one another, like there had been a piece of him missing. When he’d seen her collapse, he had felt like his heart stopped. But she also scared him. They were so different, so incompatible on paper. And he thought that having her just to lose her might actually kill him, so maybe it was better not to go there at all.

“Relax, Diego,” Patch said with a slight laugh, pulling his attention back to the room and her. “It wasn’t an accusation. I’m happy for you. And I like Y/N. She’ll keep you on your toes.”

He opened his mouth to deny once again that there was anything going on between the two of you, to assure her, but she shook her head and rolled her eyes affectionately. Still he blundered onward, changing tactics slightly but still determined to deny what he knew was real, what Patch could see with her own two eyes.

“She probably doesn’t even—“

Patch held up a hand to cut him off again. “Don’t give me that. Don’t use the excuse of not knowing what you could easily find out.”

“It’s not that simple, Eudora,” he sighed.

“Nothing about love ever is.” She stood up, brushing non-existent dirt off her pant legs. “I need to get back to work, but I hope you give what I said some thought at least. For both of your sakes.”

‘Love.’ The word echoed through Diego’s mind, but not in a way that felt intimidating or worrying. It felt more like suddenly having a name for the feeling he knew was there, like hearing someone else say it made it real. But that didn’t mean he wanted to say it out loud. Or did he?

~

The world swam slowly into existence for a third time, and you groaned, sick of the feeling as much as you were suffering any ill effects. Cautiously, you propped yourself up on your elbows, and the movement caught Diego’s attention. Almost immediately, he was up out of the chair he’d been sitting in and crouched by your side.

“How long was I out for?” you asked, hesitantly, ignoring the way your heart fluttered at his closeness and how quickly he’d jumped to your side.

“Do you mean since Patch made you swoon or in general?” he teased, smiling.

You rolled your eyes. “She did not make me swoon. Although if anyone’s swoon-worthy…but no, I mean how long have I been in the Bat Cave, total?”

“You’ve been in and out for…two days or so.”

“Two…shit!” you bolted upright, trying to get to your feet despite Diego fighting you on it. “I need to go, and hope I haven’t been fired yet.”

“You need to rest! And why does it matter to you so much if you lose your job?”

“What do you mean why does it matter? I need that job. You know for rent, and food, and generally being able to survive.”

He frowned, clearly confused. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s a reoccurring thing for you it seems. What exactly has you confused this time Hargreeves?”

“You’re a thief. You’ve stolen plenty. Why does a dead end job matter to you?”

“Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve tried to figure it out: why you work at the diner, why you’re always wearing the same faded sweatshirt and jeans when you’re not working. You’ve got all that money…”

“Is my sense of fashion actually being judged by a man who wears leather like it’s a uniform and not just an uncomfortable invitation to awkward sweat?”

“It is a uniform. And you’re avoiding the question.”

You rolled your eyes. “Self-imposed means it’s not a uniform. Just a…fashion?...choice.” You cocked your head to one side and intentionally exaggerated the question in your tone, making it clear to him what you thought of his pick of attire. He certainly wasn’t wearing it for comfort.

“You’re really going to insult me after I saved your life?”

“You really think I steal for myself?”

“Who else would you be stealing for?”

“Saving lives isn’t always just stabbing and punching bad guys.” Your eyes flickered away from his face, fixing on some invisible point over his shoulder.

“What?”

You shrugged. “I support myself with a day job and then at night, I take from rich assholes who really don’t need it, or deserve to hurt, and I give it to people that need.”

He fell silent, frowning and avoiding eye contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry,” he said eventually, pointedly ignoring your revelation. “Patch called in sick for you.”

“A police officer calling me in sick? Great now they’re definitely going to think I’m a criminal and fire me.”

“You are a criminal.”

You glared at him, wishing you had something to throw, especially when your reaction made him chuckle.

“She told them you were a witness and were in protective custody. You should be good for a week.”

“So dramatic.” You rolled your eyes. “Thanks, I guess.”

“It was…her idea…” for some reason he wouldn’t meet your eyes again, and you were pretty sure he was lying to you.

“I don’t just mean the work thing,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. “You didn’t have to help me out. You could have left me in the bank, or dumped me on the EMTs.”

He shifted, sitting awkwardly on the edge of the mattress and twisting to face you, instead of kneeling beside you. Hesitantly, he reached out catching an errant strand of your hair between his fingers and twirling it distractingly. Only a stubbornness warring with yourself (and maybe a fear that if you moved too quickly you would pass out again) kept you from launching yourself forward to press your lips to his. You hated how his proximity and the subtle scent of him made your heart race, how he made you feel weak and dizzy in a way that was entirely separate from the blood loss.

As you sat there, not quite locking eyes, each watching each other, it dawned on you that you might actually love him. Strangely, it sent a sensation of calm flooding over you. It just made sense, so there was no point in fighting it, just deciding what to do with it.

“I saw your eyes when you were talking about what you thought they might do if someone found out you had powers,” he explained finally, reluctantly letting his hand drop back to his side. “I didn’t want to be the reason you were that scared.”

“Oh.” The word felt small and inadequate.

You reached out hesitantly, to rest your hand on his where it sat between you. He turned his up so that your palms were touching and laced his fingers through yours. You both sat there staring at your joined hands, each trying to figure out what it meant to yourselves and to each other.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in the heavy, waiting silence. Finally Diego cleared his throat and pulled away, standing up.

“Are you hungry? I’m going to go out and get you some food, so you can get your strength back up,” he said awkwardly. “You should get some more rest.”

“Right, sure,” you frowned, biting back the questions dancing on your tongue. “Thanks…”

~

The next few days passed much the same way, with you trying to rest and recover, and Diego doing what he could to help you, including helping you change your bandages and giving you a literal hand when you started testing your weight on it finally. The thread of tension running between you was pulled taut and you waited for it to snap. Until, finally you couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Diego,” you started as you stood next to him, his forearm in a vice grip as you wobbled on your right foot and haltingly placed your left one on the cold concrete.

“Don’t start thanking me again, Y/N,” he said, shaking his head ruefully. “I keep telling you it’s no big deal.”

“Diligently nursing me back to health from a gunshot wound is no big deal?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and a demanding sharpness to your tone.

“No. It lets me know you’re okay.” He tried to shrug without moving the arm you were using for balance, resulting in a very awkward gesture and you giggled at it. “I’d do the same for anyone I cared so much about.”

You hobbled yourself around to be facing him, face blushing hotly. “You care about me?”

“O-o-of…c-c-c…” he gaped and floundered and the stutter that you had quickly come to recognize as a sign of his nervousness or uncertainty in himself was sharp.

“Relax, Diego. I care about you to, I just…it’s nice to hear it confirmed that the feeling’s mutual,” you smiled and gave a little shrug.

He stared at you, eyes roving your face as if searching for something. Whatever it was, he must have found it, because the next thing you knew, his free hand was cupping your jaw, thumb trailing across your cheek. And then his lips were on yours and the time for thinking or knowing was past you.

Your grip tightened further on his arm and the other hand curled around his shoulders, dragging yourself closer as his tongue parted your lips in askance, diving in to tangle with yours when you opened so willingly in answer, a moan escaping you only to be swallowed in his kiss. His arm slipped your grip to wrap around your waist as he felt you buckle, whether under the strain on your leg or the intensity of the kiss was uncertain and irrelevant to you both. Slowly, he backed up toward the threadbare chair in the corner of the room, dropping back into it and pulling you down onto his lap. You tangled your hands into his close-cropped hair, carding and tugging gently at it, making him groan, and his hands ran ticklishly up and down your sides.

Reluctantly, you pulled back, panting for air through your kiss-bruised lips.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, eyebrow raised and staring down at him.

“I think I’ve wanted to do that for six months now,” he murmured in response, gaze adoring as he met your eyes.

“I’ve certainly been waiting for you to. Maybe I should get shot more often.”

“Don’t even joke…”

“So what changed? Was it just about admitting that I cared too?”

“Yeah, I guess. Or, actually, I think it was something Eudora said when she was here. Something she made me see…I don’t know…” he shifted uncomfortably as if trying to get away from your vision and his voice had just enough of a hitch that you knew that his stutter would come out soon if you kept pushing.

So instead, you gently brushed your fingers along his jaw to turn his head back to you.

“Don’t worry about it, you don’t have to explain…I just…I’m glad we finally got here. Now kiss me again.”

He smirked, arms curling around your back to draw you downward. “If you insist.”

~

A few hours later, you both sat at his little table, picking at your takeout.

“So, you have to get back to work soon…” he started awkwardly.

“Yep. I mean, it was a nice week hiding out in the Bat Cave, but I knew I’d to get back to reality eventually.”

“What will you do about, you know, the other thing?”

“Why? So you know when to go back to failing to catch me?” you teased, cocking you head at him with a smirk.

“No. I just know you could be using your powers differently, so I thought…maybe after everything you might have changed your mind on it.”

You growled in frustration, dropping the cheap plastic fork you had been using to nose the vegetables around in your lo mein. “Not this again, Diego.”

“I’m just saying…”

“Well I really wish you wouldn’t. You can’t say you care about me and expect me to believe that, no matter how sweet you are, when you turn around and try to change me with every second breath.” You heard your voice crack, and fought back the accompanying tears of anger. You had thought, no hoped, that now that your feelings were out in the open, he would be more accepting.

“I’m not trying to change you! I just saw what you did at the bank—“

“What? Nearly kill myself? I spent two days slipping in and out of consciousness! I’m going to probably be limping for weeks. I am NEVER doing that again.”

“You can take direct action to save lives! Isn’t that worth a little risk?”

“Why don’t you ask your brother that?” You instantly regretted the words as they slipped off your tongue.

Immediately, it was like sheet-metal shutters slammed shut behind his eyes, those warm chocolate eyes that you loved so much now gone and stony.

“Shit. No, Diego, I…I didn’t mean that…or I kind of did, but I had no right…”

His jaw twitched but he didn’t speak.

“Fuck. I fucked everything up already. Shit. Please say something? Even if you want to tell me off, which I totally deserve…please?”

“We need to change the bandages on your leg.” His voice was flat. You had heard security alarms with more emotion.

“Oh. Right.” You sighed, twisting awkwardly to pull yourself out from under the table and give him access to the wound.

“Then I think you should go.”

You were silent for a moment, watching him closely as he rounded the table and carefully unwound the gauze from your leg.

“No,” you said softly. “I don’t think I should.”

He turned his head up to look at you, mouth agape.

“We keep doing this Diego. Every time there’s something between us, we end up snapping at each other and saying something that hurts the other person and shutting each other out. And I don’t want to do that again. I really like you, and I trust you and I want to be around you, like all the time, and that’s all new and confusing and…terrifying. But I don’t want to lose it.”

“What are you saying?”

“That we should, maybe, talk this out like adults this time?” you smiled sheepishly, hesitantly.

Silence rang over the room, but you felt gentle hands on your leg as he continued to inspect how your leg was healing.

“You’re…right. We should…talk,” he said finally, and you felt the relief settle over your body, tension dropping away.

“Glad you agree,” you said with a slight smile.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 211

211

Feeling Lance getting out of bed, Keith felt for his lover, Lance’s hand finding his after he’d half slapped him on the lower back

“Babe?”

“Getting a drink”

“Dun’ be too long”

“I won’t”

Coran was a bad loser. Pidge had annihilated him in Mario. Keith and Lance coming downstairs just as Coran started accusing Pidge of cheating. Five rematches later and Matt had taken the controller off Coran who started on a tangent about everything wrong with the game. To soothe the piece, Hunk suggested they do the cake now that Lance was awake to enjoy it.

Hunk had outdone himself with the cake. Keith had no words for how nicely decorated it was, nor did he have words for how big it was. As they were choosing not to know the sex of their twins, Hunk had used soft pastels to bring colour to the cake with fancy twirly things and edging that he didn’t know the name for. Comprised of three tiers, the top tier had two foot pints made from edible chocolate, coloured purple, circled by “Kogane-McClain Twins”. The second layer read congratulations. The third being just cute pastel icing. Had he not been embarrassed over his lack of baking knowledge, he probably would have asked Lance what all the decorations were properly called. The inside of the cake matched the outside. Pink, purple, blue, green, and yellow, comprising the layers with buttercream frosting between them.

Apparently their Sunshine Hunk couldn’t help himself, Lance crying on Hunk’s shoulder as he thanked him. Hunk crying on Lance’s shoulder as he assured him he knew he was grateful. Taking the top tier for themselves, they shared a plate, knowing there was no way there would be anything left once Matt and Rieva started. Having never eaten a “foot” before, Keith was impressed Hunk had managed to mould white chocolate so well. The man had skills. If he were to open a bakery, Keith’s bank balance wouldn’t be staying in the black very long.

After the cake came the presents. Their twins had to have a set a record for the most blankets and onesies. Lance kept saying they didn’t need anything else, everything making him cry... except for Shiro who would forever be the lamest big brother in history. Someone out there made custom onesies. Keith would like to meet them and strangle them. Four bloody onesies. Four bloody supernatural themed onesies that had passed Curtis’s tick of approval. Two vampire print and two werewolf print. Why did everything Shiro touched always have to come back to that? Curtis earned some point back with him by gifting them a box set of documentaries that he and Lance had watched half of when Curtis lived there.

Coran, now over his loss and perked up with sugar, gifted them herbal teas with a long lecture on which teas were best for which moods. Being tea, it all went through one ear and out the other. Allura’s gift of coffee made it clear she knew what a werewolf needed in his life, especially with the sleepless nights to come.

Krolia... Krolia’s gift was a set of tiny little blades for their twins. Keith confiscating them before his mother could get any ideas about training the twins to be hunters. That wasn’t the life they wanted for their kids. They wanted to watch them grow and explore the world, finding their own passions to chase. Lance politely thanked Krolia, but the look on his face said those blades were to disappear somewhere where their twins would never find them.

Shay had found “emo” baby blankets. Lance found them funny, as they reminded him of Keith. Keith couldn’t deny that they weren’t his favourite gift because they were kind of nifty with their black and white skull patterns and the green one had a really cool dragon pattern on it.

From Matt and Rieva, almost entirely most definitely Rieva’s idea, they were gifted a set of second hand Berenstain Bears books. She’d started secretly collecting when she’d found out Lance was pregnant. Mami gave a little help with the gift choice. Matt’s gift to them was taking Pidge home and spending a couple of days in Platt so they could have more alone time before the birth. Keith had a new favourite present.

Pidge drunkenly praising her skills over “suping up” the pram she’d gifted them. The thing now sporting wheels that “would make Lance’s dumb bronco cry in jealous”. Lance wasn’t sure about it all, but Pidge wouldn’t be dissuaded that the pram wasn’t now at its absolute best. Though no one argued with her directly about it, she was mid-rant when she threw up rather violently onto the rug. Krolia taking her to the bathroom, while Lance excused himself to throw up in the kitchen sink. Now there was two vomiting people, it was a mutual decision to start winding things up. Matt and Rieva in charge of getting a drunk Pidge home. Shay and Hunk also deciding maybe it was best to head off before Pidge came out the bathroom again. Their gremlin very loving and loud about it between throwing up and being soothed by Krolia. Coran and Allura were catching a ride back to Platt with Krolia, and with how green Shiro was looking, Keith sending them home.

Keith didn’t realise until everyone had left, that they’d been left with the mammoth task of cleaning everything up. Still, for all it’s ups and downs, it’d been a good party, though the pair of them did breathe a sigh of relief when silence descended over their home. Chores were done. Dishes washed. The rug scrubbed. Everything else outside could wait for another day as they climbed into bed together, both too sleepy for the night of promised passion. Lance still had moisturiser on his nose as kissed Keith goodnight. Keith smearing it out for him, thinking how lucky he was to have Lance... and how their friends had spent way too much money on them. He didn’t think he’d ever be used to such thoughtful gifts without waiting for a catch.

Dozing off, Lance’s spot was still empty when he woke up again. There were some nights was more out of their bed than in, but Keith couldn’t hear him in the bathroom. Trying not to panic, the werewolf climbed out from the mound of blankets on their bed. Most nights he’d find he’d kicked them off, too hot and too sweaty to sleep peacefully, like Lance did. Jogging over to the bathroom, he found it empty. Vaguely he remembered Lance saying he was his thirsty. If his fiancé’s insomnia had kicked in, then Lance was most probably sitting in the living room watching the TV on mute so Keith could get some sleep.

Sleepy and stumbly, Keith missed the bottom step of the stairs, hand flying out and denting the wall as he felt himself fall. Had the overwhelming scent of blood not been in the air, he might have paused to examine the damage he’d just done to the same spot Lance had repaired at least a dozen times since moving into his house

“Lance?! Babe?!”

Getting no answer from his fiancé, Keith’s heart started to race as his mind went to the worst possible situation. Lance could have slipped. He could be bleeding out. There was so much blood in the air, the werewolf’s stomach felt queasy.

Checking the rooms along the way, Kosmo had made himself at home in Matt’s and Rieva’s room, an interesting fact, though useless because Lance was on his mind. Reaching Lance’s office, the door was slightly open, the space illuminated by his computer screen. Flicking the light on, Lance hissed at him. Keith’s eyes widened in shock at the sight in front of him. Lance covered in blood. His fiancé hadn’t been kidding about being thirsty. Blood ran down his chin, and from his hands down his arms, not caring about how much of a mess he’d made feeding on blood bags he’d torn apart rather popping the cap on them. A quick count came to 8 bags scattered around Lance’s feet.

Watching Lance throw down the blood bag he’d just finished, the vampire tore into the next one, literally. His hands trying to push as much blood from the ripped bag down his throat as he could

“Babe? Babe, you feeling okay?”

Raising his head, Lance’s eyes were blank. That warm spark that always seemed to sparkly that just little bit bright for him was dull

“Babe?”

This couldn’t be good. Lance said he was thirsty. Not that he hadn’t fed in a year and was now making up for it. Keith felt revolted, and guilty for being revolted. His ego shocked into shutting up as they stared

“Baby, I think you’ve had enough blood. Here, let’s go back to bed? How does that sound?”

Lance didn’t reply. Keith forcing himself to slowly edge towards Lance. This was his Lance. His Lance wouldn’t savage him as he’d done with the blood bags. Nope. No. He was totally safe. Yep. Just a normal day in a vampire pregnancy. Nothing to see here

“Babe, come on, you’ve had enough for now”

Lance threw away the bag he’d drained, Keith using his speed to grab the bag he’d been going for out of reach. Watching the bag, Lance bared his bloodied fangs

“Baby, please. I know you’re in there. It’s me. It’s Keith. Come on, babe. Don’t let your ego push you aside”

Oh... oh. He was crying now. Keith didn’t know when that started. Had Lance not eating this much contributed to him feeling so ill? Was this how much blood a pregnant vampire needed in their final weeks of pregnancy? Placing the bag on the desk, Keith shifted the bags on the floor away with his foot, making it to crouching in front of Lance safely.

With shaking hands the werewolf reached out. His left hand going to Lance’s forehead as his right hand cupped his fiancé’s face. Blinking at him, Keith’s touch seemed to “wake” his lover. Warmth and confusion filling Lance’s eyes

“K-Keith?”

Looking down at his bloodied front, Lance’s gaze flicked back up, eyes welling with tears

“Wha... what happened?”

“You got a bit thirsty”

“But... h-how? The... party...?”

“The party ended hours ago, baby. You’re okay. You didn’t hurt anyone”

“I... I don’t remember”

The pain in Lance’s eyes was crushing

“Pidge started throwing up. Matt and Rieva took her home. Are you okay? You don’t feel warm”

“I don’t feel very good...”

“Okay. That’s okay. Do you think you can stand up?”

Lance went to look down his chest again, Keith holding his head up so he forced to look him in the eye

“You’re okay. It’s a just a bit of blood”

“I don’t remember”

“That’s okay. We were both exhausted when we went to bed. Just focus on me, baby. You can do that right?”

“I always focus on you”

Moving a stray lock of hair back, Keith gave Lance the best smile he could manage around his internal freak out

“Yeah, you do. You’re so good to me, babe. Let’s get you cleaned up and back into bed”

Lance nuzzled into his palm

“I’m sleepy”

Normally that much blood would turn Lance into an ego driven wanker

“I bet you are. You had a huge day and our friends are idiots. Let’s wash up, then we’ll snuggle”

Lance closed his eyes, sniffing sadly

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry I don’t remember coming down here...”

“That’s okay, baby. That’s okay. You’re okay”

*

Putting Lance to bed, Keith couldn’t sleep. Lance passed right out, but Keith was worried. Once the scent of blood had finally been cleaned away, a strange scent cling to Lance that left him feeling on edge. He didn’t like. The scent had him all muddled up inside, almost as if it’d given him a dose of adrenaline and he simply couldn’t sit still. Leaving his fiancé sleeping, Keith first headed to the bathroom to fetch Lance’s bloodied shirt and underwear, before heading downstairs. The one night he could have done with someone else there to tell him what to do, their house stood uselessly empty. Cleaning. That was about all he could do.

Crying as he scrubbed at the blood split in Lance’s office, he wondered how the heck he was supposed to deal with this. Lance had climbed into bed without prompting, even skipping getting in one last apology before zonking out. His fiancé needed his sleep, but should he have been waking him and taking him to Coran? Was he overreacting? It wasn’t like Lance had had a bleed, he’d checked when he’d towelled him down. Now that he was back to being himself, he’d been affectionate... but he couldn’t get the image of all that blood out of his head.

The torn bags thrown in the trash with Lance’s clothes, and the clothes from cleaning, the bin then dragged out to the road at Lance’s gateway for collection. Coming back to the house, Keith could hear Lance snoring, yet found himself unable to head upstairs with so much in his head. He needed coffee... and he really needed a fucking hug... Coffee at least was home and never failed at settling him, if he didn’t think about the times it had.

Settling himself on the edge of the sofa, Keith didn’t remember grabbing his phone when he’d left Lance sleeping. Kosmo coming quietly padding into the room, dropping himself to sit beside Keith’s legs with a soft whine

“I know. I’m worried about him too. Should I call Coran? Or am I thinking about this too much?”

He was so damn good at that. At his mind jumping to the worst case scenario. He’d always hate that about himself. He needed Shiro. They’d talked a little over lunch, but right now, Shiro was the only one he felt would understand his stupid fears. He loved Garrison, but the house felt so isolated that he felt truly alone. If the world outside had been destroyed, he’d be the last to know. God. He wanted his brother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, his right palm dug into his right eye as he held his phone with his left. The ringing continuing so long that he thought it’d ring out. It must have been the last ring when the call finally connected, Shiro’s voice groggy

“Keith?”

A fresh wave of tears hit. He’d woken his brother up...

“I’m sorry...”

In the background was the rustling of sheets, he picked up on the sound of the switch on Shiro’s lamp flicking on

“Hey, kiddo. What’s going on?”

What wasn’t going on...

“Keith? Hey... What happened? Is it Lance?”

“Shiro... I don’t know what to do”

Kosmo whined softly at his distress. Keith’s right hand moving to hug his best boy close

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. What happened?”

“I... I walked on him feeding... and there was so much blood. He was covered in blood. He wasn’t even... even aware of it. He didn’t remember coming down. I don’t know if he even remembers the party... I put him back to bed, but I don’t know what to do...”

In the background Curtis asked it was Keith, Shiro covering the bottom of his phone as he replied it was. Now he’d gone and disturbed Curtis too

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called...”

“Hey, no. No. You’re my little brother. I want you to rely on me. When you say you walked in on Lance, was he acting differently?”

“It was like he wasn’t even there. No. It was like I wasn’t there... He was so hungry...”

“Did he hurt you?”

“No. The moment he realised I was there he started panicking because he was covered in blood”

“How much blood are we talking about?”

“I threw out 10 bags... well, the remains of 10 bags. He tore into them as if he hadn’t eaten for ages”

In the background he heard Curtis asking for him to put Keith on speaker phone. He wanted to talk to his brother, not so much Curtis

“Hey, Keith. Does Lance have any other symptoms? Any bleeding? Changes in temperature?”

“No. No, I checked...”

“Okay. That’s a really good sign. Let him sleep for now. If his temperature drops or if he develops a fever, then call Coran”

Right. Curtis had originally been Lance’s babysitter. He didn’t doubt Curtis was lying to soothe him, but the curse would have handy right now

“Okay”

“Good. I know you’re worried about him, but he’s honestly better when you’re with him. I’ll let you get back to talking to Shiro, you don’t need me eavesdropping”

Keith instantly felt bad all over again. Shiro the one to the leave the bedroom, instead of Curtis as he told him to go back to sleep. A few moments passed before Keith heard the sounds of Shiro sitting on the sofa

“Sorry, kiddo. You know how much he likes Lance”

“I’m the one who’s sorry... I woke you up”

“Keith, you’re my brother. I’m glad I can here for you. What are you thinking?”

“That I could really use a hug right now”

“Oh, kiddo. This is Lance, he’ll be okay”

“But what if he’s not? He hasn’t been feeling well”

“I’m sure if it was serious he would have gone to Coran...”

“This him, he doesn’t want a fuss...”

Lance was so stupidly pigheaded about his desires not to be fussed over. He’d been so strong... now he was weakened

“Stop letting your head get the better of you”

“I didn’t say anything”

“I know you, kiddo. If he’s not better by the morning, bring him to Garrison. I know you’re going to worry yourself sick, but being there is the best thing you can do for him and your twins”

“Is... am I enough?”

“Keith, you’ll always be enough. He adores you. I might not have approved to begin with, but Lance has proven time and time again that he loves you. I know it’s tough, kiddo, but soon you’ll be father to your twins. You and Lance are going to get through this”

“God, I hope so...”

“You will. Now, get some rest. Lance is going to worry about you if look shitty in the morning”

“Lance always worries”

“Maybe we should get him a trophy for that?”

Keith gave a wet snort. If they were to do that, they’d constantly be trading the damn thing back and forth..

“Let’s not. Shiro... I’m worried for him”

“I know, kiddo. But this is Lance. He’s stronger than he looks. If he’s not better by morning, follow your gut instincts”

“I don’t know what my instincts are saying”

“They’re saying you’ll make the right call. Try to get some sleep”

“Yeah. I will... thanks, Shiro”

“Anytime, kiddo. Let me know it goes?”

“Yeah. I will”

Ending his call with Shiro, Keith tossed his phone to the other end of the sofa. Kosmo patiently sitting, still hugged close

“What do you think I should do?”

Trying to lick at his face, Kosmo wanted pats, not to be giving out life advice

“Yeah. I guess I’ll try get some sleep. The last two days have been a lot”

Training with Lotor. His talk with his mother. Seeing his father again. His talk with Lance. The party. Lance covered in blood. Yeah. He really should go to bed. If anything happened, he’d be there for Lance... hopefully making the right call in waiting until the morning.

[96harmony96]

Chapter 4 part 2

I threw myself into clubbing like it was going out of style. Cary and I bounced all over downtown clubs from Tribeca to the East Village, wasting stupid money on cover charges and having a fabulous time. I danced until my feet felt like they were going to fall off, but I toughed it out until Cary complained about his heeled boots first.

We’d just stumbled out of a techno-pop club with a plan to buy me flip-flops at a nearby Walgreens when we ran across a hawker promoting a lounge a few blocks away.

“Great place to get off your feet for a while,” he said, without the usual flashy smile or exaggerated hype most of the hawkers employed. His clothes—black jeans and turtleneck—were more upscale, which intrigued me. And he didn’t have fliers or postcards. What he handed me was a business card made from papyrus paper and printed with a gilded font that caught the light of the electric signage around us. I made a mental note to hang on to it as a great piece of print advertising.

A stream of quickly moving pedestrians flowed around us. Cary squinted down at the lettering, having a few more drinks in him than I had. “Looks swank.”

“Show them that card,” the hawker urged. “You’ll skip the cover.”

“Sweet.” Cary linked arms with me and dragged me along. “Let’s go. You might find a quality guy in a swanky joint.”

My feet were seriously killing me by the time we found the place, but I quit bitching when I saw the charming entrance. The line to get in was long, extending down the street and around the corner. Amy Winehouse’s soulful voice drifted out of the open door, as did well-dressed customers who exited with big smiles.

True to the hawker’s word, the business card was a magic key that granted us immediate and free entrance. A gorgeous hostess led us upstairs to a quieter VIP bar that overlooked the stage and dance floor below. We were shown to a small seating area by the balcony and settled at a table hugged by two half-moon velvet sofas. shepropped a beverage menu in the center and said, “Your drinks are on the house. Enjoy your evening.”

“Wow.” Cary whistled. “We scored.”

“I think that hawker recognized you from an ad.”

“Wouldn’t that rock?” He grinned. “God, it’s a great night. Hanging out with my best girl and crushing on a new hunk in my life.”

“Oh?”

“I think I’ve decided to see where things go with Trey.”

That made me happy. It felt like I’d been waiting forever for him to find someone who’d treat him right. “Has he asked you out yet?”

“No, but I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t want to.” He shrugged and smoothed his artfully ripped T-shirt. Paired with black leather pants and spiked wristlets, he looked sexy and wild. “I just think he’s trying to figure out the situation with you first. He wigged when I told him I lived with a woman and that I’d moved across the country to be with you. He’s worried I might be bi-curious and secretly hung up on you. That’s why I wanted you two to meet today, so he could see how you and I are together.”

“I’m sorry, Cary. I’ll try to put him at ease about it.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it. It’ll work out if it’s supposed to.”

His assurances didn’t make me feel better. I tried to think if there was a way I could help.

Two guys stopped by our table. “Okay if we join you?” the taller one asked.

I glanced at Cary, and then back at the guys. They looked like brothers and they were very attractive. Both were smiling and confident, their stances loose and easy.

I was about to say, Sure, when a warm hand settled on my bare shoulder and squeezed firmly. “This one’s taken.”

Across from me, Cary gaped as Lauren Jauregui rounded the sofa and extended her hand to him. “Taylor. Lauren Jauregui.”

“Cary Taylor.” He shook Lauren’s hand with a wide smile. “But you knew that. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

I could’ve killed him. I seriously thought about it.

“Good to know.” Lauren settled on the seat beside me, her arm draped behind me so that her fingertips could brush casually and possessively up and down my arm. “Maybe there’s hope for me yet.”

Twisting at the waist, I faced her and whispered fiercely, “What are you doing?”

she shot me a hard glance. “Whatever it takes.”

“I’m going to dance.” Cary stood with a mischievous grin. “Be back in a bit.”

Ignoring my pleading glance, my best friend blew me a kiss and the guys followed him. I watched them all go, my heart racing. After another minute, ignoring Lauren became ridiculous, as well as impossible.

My gaze slid over her. shewore dress slacks in graphite gray and a black V-neck sweater, the overall effect being one of careless sophistication. I loved the look on her and was attracted to the softness it gave her, even though I knew it was only an illusion. she was a hard woman in a lot of ways.

I took a deep breath, feeling like I needed to make an effort to socialize with her. After all, wasn’t that my big complaint? That she wanted to skip past the getting-to-know-you stage and jump straight into bed?

“You look…” I paused. Fantastic. Wonderful. Amazing. So damn sexy…In the end, I went with the lame, “I like the way you look.”

Her brow arched. “Ah, something you like about me. Is that a general like of the overall package? Or just the clothes? Only the sweater? Or maybe it’s the pants?”

The edge to her tone rubbed me the wrong way. “And if I say it’s just the sweater?”

“I’ll buy a dozen and wear them every damn day.”

“That would be a shame.”

“You don’t like the sweater?” she was pissy, her words coming clipped and fast.

My hands flexed restlessly in my lap. “I love the sweater, but I also like the suits.”

she stared at me a minute, and then nodded. “How was your date with B.O.B.?”

Oh hell. I looked away. It was a lot easier talking about masturbation over the phone. Doing it while squirming under that piercing green stare was mortifying. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

she brushed the backs of her fingers over my cheek and murmured, “You’re blushing.”

I heard the amusement in her voice and swiftly changed topics. “Do you come here often?”

Shit. Where did that clichéd line come from?

Her hand dropped to my lap and caught one of mine, her fingers curling into my palm. “When necessary.”

A quick stab of jealousy made me stiffen. I glared at her, even though I was mad at myself for caring either way. “What does that mean? When you’re on the prowl?”

Lauren’s mouth curved into a genuine smile that hit me hard. “When expensive decisions need to be made. I own this club, Camila.”

Of course shedid. Jeez.

A pretty waitress set two pinkish-colored iced drinks in square tumblers on the table. she looked at Lauren and gave her a flirtatious smile. “Here you go, Miss. Jauregui. Two Stoli Elites and cranberry. Can I get you anything else?”

“That’ll be all for now. Thanks.”

I could totally see that she wanted to get on the pre approved list and I bristled at that; then I was distracted by what we’d been served. It was my beverage of choice when clubbing and what I’d been drinking all night. My nerves tingled. I watched her take a drink, swirl it around in her mouth like a fine wine, and then swallow it. The working of her throat made me hot, but that was nothing compared to what the intensity of her stare did to me.

“Not bad,” she murmured. “Tell me if we made it right.”

she kissed me. she moved on fast, but I saw it coming and didn’t turn away. Her mouth was cold and flavored with alcohol-laced cranberry. Delicious. All the chaotic emotion and energy that had been writhing around inside me abruptly became too much to contain. I shoved a hand in her glorious hair and clenched it tight, holding her still as I sucked on her tongue. Her groan was the most erotic sound I’d ever heard, making the flesh between my legs tighten viciously.

Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I wrenched away, gasping.

Lauren followed, nuzzling the side of my face, her lips brushing over my ear. she was breathing hard, too, and the sound of the ice in her tumbler clinking against the glass skittered across my inflamed senses.

“I need to be inside you, Camila,” she whispered roughly. “I’m aching for you.”

My gaze fell to my drink on the table, my thoughts swirling around in my head, a clusterfuck of impressions and recollections and confusion. “How did you know?”

Her tongue traced the shell of my ear and I shivered. It felt like every cell in my body was straining toward her. Resisting her took an impossible amount of energy, draining me and making me feel tired.

“Know what?” she asked.

“What I like to drink? What Cary’s name is?”

she inhaled deeply, and then pulled away. Setting her drink down, she shifted on the sofa and drew a knee up onto the cushion between us so that she faced me directly. Her arm once again draped over the sofa back, her fingertips drawing circles on the curve of my shoulder. “You visited another of my clubs earlier. Your credit card popped and your drinks were recorded. And Cary Taylor is listed on the rental agreement for your apartment.”

The room spun. No way…My cell phone. My credit card. My fucking apartment. I couldn’t breathe. Between my mother and Lauren, I felt claustrophobic.

“Camila. Jesus. You’re white as a ghost.” sheshoved a glass into my hand. “Drink.”

It was the Stoli and cranberry. I pounded it, draining the tumbler. My stomach churned for a moment, then settled. “You own the building I live in?” I gasped.

“Oddly enough, yes.” she moved to sit on the table, facing me, her legs on either side of mine. she took my glass and set it aside; then warmed my chilled hands with her.

“Are you crazy, Lauren?”

Her mouth thinned. “Is that a serious question?”

“Yes. Yes, it is. My mom stalks me, too, and she sees a shrink. Do you have a shrink?”

“Not presently, but you’re driving me crazy enough to make that a possibility.”

“So this behavior isn’t normal for you?” My heart was pounding. I could hear the blood rushing past my eardrums. “Or is it?”

she shoved a hand through her hair, restoring order to the strands I’d mussed when we’d kissed. “I accessed information you voluntarily made available to me.”

“Not to you! Not for what you used it for! That has to violate some kind of privacy law.” I stared at her, more confused than ever. “Why would you do that?”

shehad the grace to look disgruntled at least. “So I can figure you out, damn it.”

“Why don’t you just ask me, Lauren? Is that so fucking hard for people to do nowadays?”

“It is with you.” she grabbed her drink off the table and tossed back most of it. “I can’t get you alone for more than a few minutes at a time.”

“Because the only thing you want to talk about is what you have to do to get laid!”

“Christ, Camila,” she hissed, squeezing my hand. “Keep your voice down!”

I studied her, taking in every line and plane of her face. Unfortunately, cataloging the details didn’t lessen my awe even a tiny bit. I was beginning to suspect I’d never get over being dazzled by his looks.

And I wasn’t alone; I’d seen how other women reacted around her. And she was crazy rich, which made even old, bald, and paunchy guys attractive. It was no wonder she was used to snapping her fingers and scoring an orgasm.

Her gaze darted over my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m thinking.”

“About what?” Her jaw tightened. “And I’m warning you, if you say anything about orifices, preapprovals, or seminal emissions, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

That almost made me smile. “I want to understand a few things, because I think it’s possible I’m not giving you enough credit.”

“I’d like to understand a few things myself,” she muttered.

“I’m guessing the ‘I want to fuck you’ approach has a high success rate for you.”

Lauren’s face smoothed into unreadable impassivity. “I’m not touching that one, Camila.”

“Okay. You want to figure out what it’s going to take to get me into bed. Is that why you’re here in this club right now? Because of me? And don’t say what you think I want to hear.”

Her gaze was clear and steady. “I’m here for you, yes. I arranged it.”

Suddenly the threads the street hawker had been wearing made sense. We’d been hustled by someone on Cross Industries payroll. “Did you figure that getting me here would get you laid?”

Her mouth twitched with suppressed amusement. “There’s always the hope, but I expected it would take more work than a chance meeting over drinks.”

“You’re right. So why do it? Why not wait until Monday lunch?”

“Because you’re out trolling. I can’t do anything about B.O.B., but I can stop you from picking up some asshole in a bar. You want to score, Camila, I’m right here.”

“I’m not trolling. I’m burning off tension after a stressful day.”

“You’re not the only one.” she fingered one of my silver chandelier earrings. “So you drink and dance when you’re tense. I work on the problem that’s making me tense in the first place.”

Her voice had softened, and it stirred an alarming yearning. “Is that what I am? A problem?”

“Absolutely.” But there was a hint of a smile around her lips.

I knew that was a lot of the appeal for her. Lauren Jauregui wouldn’t be where she was, at such a young age, if she took “no” gracefully. “What’s your definition of dating?”

A frown marred the space between her brows. “Lengthy social time spent with a woman during which we’re not actively fucking.”

“Don’t you enjoy the company of women?”

The frown turned into a scowl. “Sure, as long as there aren’t any exaggerated expectations or excessive demands on my time. I’ve found the best way to steer clear of those is to have mutually exclusive sexual relationships and friendships.”

There were those pesky “exaggerated expectations” again. Clearly, those were a sticking point with her. “So, you do have female friends?”

“Of course.” Her legs tightened around mine, capturing me. “Where are you going with this?”

“You segregate sex from the rest of your life. You separate it from friendship, work…everything.”

“I’ve got good reasons for doing that.”

“I’m sure you do. Okay, here are my thoughts.” It was difficult concentrating when I was so close to Lauren. “I told you I don’t want to date and I don’t. My job is priority number one and my personal life—as a single woman—is a close second. I don’t want to sacrifice any of that time on a relationship and there’s really not enough left over to squeeze in anything steady.”

“I’m right there with you.”

“But I like sex.”

“Good. Have it with me.” Her smile was an erotic invitation.

I shoved her shoulder. “I need a personal connection with the men I sleep with. It doesn’t have to be intense or deep, but sex needs to be more than an emotionless transaction for me.”

“Why?”

I could tell she wasn't being flippant. As bizarre as this conversation must be for her, Lauren was taking it seriously. “Call it one of my quirks, and I’m not saying that lightly. It pisses me off to feel used for sex. I feel devalued.”

“Can’t you look at it as you using me for sex?”

“Not with you.” she was too forceful, too demanding.

A sizzling, predatory glimmer sparked in her eyes as I bared my weakness for her.

“Besides,” I went on quickly, “that’s semantics. I need an equal exchange in my sexual relationships. Or to have the upper hand.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You said that really quickly considering I’m telling you I need to combine two things you work so hard to avoid putting together.”

“I’m not comfortable with it and I don’t claim to understand, but I’m hearing you—it’s an issue. Tell me how to get around it.”

My breath left me in a rush. I hadn’t expected that. shewas a woman who wanted no complications with her sex and I was a woman who found sex complicated, but shewasn’t giving up. Yet.

“We need to be friendly, Lauren. Not best buds or confidants, but two people who know more about each other than their anatomy. To me, that means we have to spend time together when we’re not actively fucking. And I’m afraid we’ll have to spend time not actively fucking in places where we’re forced to restrain ourselves.”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

“Yes. And see, that’s what I mean. I wasn’t giving you credit for that. You should’ve done it in a less creepy manner”—I covered her lips with my fingers when she tried to cut me off—“but I admit you did try to set up a time to talk and I wasn’t helpful.”

she snipped my fingers with her teeth, making me yelp and yank my hand away.

“Hey. What was that for?”

she lifted my abused hand to her mouth and kissed the hurt, her tongue darting out to soothe. And incite.

In self-defense, I tugged my hand back to my lap. I still wasn’t completely confident that we’d worked things out. “Just so you know there are no exaggerated expectations—when you and I spend time together not actively fucking, I won’t think it’s a date. All right?”

“That covers it.” Lauren smiled and my decision to be with her solidified for me. Her smile was like lightning in the darkness, blinding and beautiful and mysterious, and I wanted her so badly it was physically painful.

Her hands slid down to cup the backs of my thighs. Squeezing gently, she tugged me just a little bit closer. The hem of my short black halter dress slipped almost indecently high and her gaze was riveted to the flesh he’d exposed. Her tongue wet his lips in an action so carnal and suggestive I could almost feel the caress on my skin.

Duffy began begging for mercy, her voice drifting up from the dance floor below. An unwelcome ache developed in my chest and I rubbed at it.

I’d already had enough, but I heard myself saying, “I need another drink.

[starlightments]

                                  PREVIEW: chapter one

written by: starlightment

When Lance moves back home to take over his grandmother’s highly-acclaimed coffee shop, he quickly realizes there’s a bigger issue than the struggle of carrying out his family legacy. Namely, his annoyingly handsome ex-boyfriend, who also happens to own the rowdy, customer-stealing gastropub that just opened up next door. Lance is determined to taste sweet success, but with memories of his romantic past making an unfortunate comeback, it seems like there might be more than just coffee brewing between them.  

Language: English  |  Chapters: TBD  |  Art Credit: here  

FANDOM: Voltron: Legendary Defender

RATING: Mature

PAIRING(S): Keith/Lance

    “Really?” Keith balks outright. 

    With that, Lance pivots sharply on his heel, nose still hoisted high into the air as he returns to scrubbing the same spot on the countertop, over and over until his arm starts to ache from the exertion of it. And that’s that on that. 

    Or it would be, he thinks resentfully, if Keith’s eyes weren’t still drilling a hole through his back with all their stupid, stubborn, sparkly luster. 

    Not that Lance cares, anyway. He’s just making some objective observations here. 

    “Really, Lance?” Keith says after another beat of silence rolls by, slow and awkward and dreadful.  

    Lance continues to scrub with vigor.

    “You’re seriously refusing to serve me.”

    Scrub, scrub, scrub.

    “So you’re not gonna — wow, okay.”

    Scrub, scrub, scrub, scrub.  

    “You’re not even gonna acknowledge —” A noise erupts from the back of Keith’s throat. Like a scoff, but uglier and more incredulous. “—fine.”

    That’s when Lance hears shuffling, a bit of clattering and banging, which is suspicious enough to have him whirling around, just in time to witness Keith — the absolute scoundrel — vaulting himself clear over the counter, and carelessly knocking down several containers of artificial sweetener in the process.

    Lance squawks, angry and shrill. “Wha —What do you think you’re doing?!”  

    “Oh, so you can see me,” sneers Keith. “What a relief.”

    “Yeah, I see you, alright. I see you trying to put your grubby little fingerless-gloved hands all over my shiny new espresso machine like some kinda —”  

    Keith’s hands go all over the shiny new espresso machine, and Lance squawks again, arms flailing, eyes bulging. “Get away!” he cries.

    “Wouldn’t wanna trouble you with actually doing your job, Lance, so I’ll just do it myself —”

    “No, you most definitely will not, you — you can’t just —”

    Shrugging, Keith examines the complicated-looking buttons on the front of the machine with profound intensity. “Pretty sure I can.”  

    “Don’t, or else I’ll — I’m gonna —” Lance splutters and stammers for an undignified handful of seconds. “ —call security on your sorry ass!”  

    Keith casts him a sideways glance, looking infuriatingly unthreatened, and says, “This is a coffee shop, Lance, you don’t have security.”  

    “Quit calling me that!” blurts Lance.

    “What, your name?” Keith asks, annoyed.

    “Yeah,” and Lance’s cheeks throb with a violent rush of heat. Hastily, he adds, “Quit — saying it so much!”

    “What the hell am I supposed to call you, then?”  

    Then, as their gazes snag, all wild and brimming with unspoken challenges that part of him yearns to utter aloud, the weight of it drops in Lance’s gut, swift and soundless. And if he weren’t gripping the edge of the counter so tightly, it’d bring him to his knees, he swears, because it makes him feel weak and wanting in all the worst ways.

    You used to call me so many lovely things, his mutinous mind starts to think. Soft things, tender things, that used to be whispered, prayer-like, against shared pillowcases and warm, moonlit skin on those dewy summer evenings. Things that used to cut him open, and run him dry, and pulse between the press of starving, kiss-bitten lips: sweetheart, gorgeous, my love, my life —

    Keith stares at him, his expression all steel, piercingly gunmetal.

    Lance swallows hard, swaying dizzily on his feet.

    And then he’s shouting: “Code red! Hunk, I repeat, this is a — this is not a drill!”

    Promptly, the kitchen door swings open to reveal a startled, wide-eyed Hunk with two plastic jugs clutched to his heaving chest. The whir of the electric mixer is still buzzing from inside the kitchen, and there’s a bit of cream-colored batter smudged against his chin.

    “Sorry, Lance, I keep forgetting,” he pants, lifting the jugs. “Is that the one that means we’re out of soy milk?”

    “It’s the one that means we have a societal menace —” Lance jabs a stern finger in Keith’s direction. “—trespassing in our place of business.”

    Hunk’s eyes go ping-ponging back and forth between the pair until they settle, ultimately, on the menace in question. “Oh, uh — hey, man.”

    “Hey, Hunk,” replies Keith. “How’ve you been?”  

    Lance gapes, scandalized. “Don’t fraternize with my employees while they’re on the clock!”

    “How about I take care of that drink for you,” Hunk offers, carrying the soy milk over to the espresso machine, and calmly escorting Keith to the other side of the counter.

    “That’d be great,” says Keith.

    “So what’re you having today?”  

    One regular cappuccino with soy milk, light foam, Lance’s subconscious recites on instinct, and he hates himself for it. Just a little bit.

    Keith leans easily against the counter, humoring Hunk with some very menial smalltalk while the drink is prepared to frothy perfection. Meanwhile, Lance starts to reassemble the sweetener display that Keith had so recklessly destroyed with his frustratingly defiant stunt earlier, and forces himself not to listen to their idle chattering. Because he doesn’t care. Keith chuckles quietly, and the sound ripples all the way down to Lance’s core, but he couldn’t care less about that.

    Hunk snaps a lid onto the drink, and hands it to Keith, who hisses in discomfort when the first sip of scalding liquid burns his tongue. Idiot, Lance wants to snicker just as badly as he wants to grab his face, and soothe the pain away with a gentle kiss.

    Lance does neither of those things.

    “Thanks, Hunk,” says Keith.

    “Sure, dude, anytime,” Hunk tells him, but a pointed, lightening-quick glare from Lance has him backtracking, “I mean, uh, y’know… within reason.”

    Keith mutters, gaze darkening, “Right.”

    And then he’s stomping toward the exit, coffee in hand, lingering just long enough at the door to call loudly across the empty shop, “Glad we can be mature about this, Lance.”  

    The door slams shut behind him so fiercely that the tiny bell screams overhead, toppling off its hook, and onto the floor with a depressing clink.

    Very slowly, Hunk swivels his attention over to Lance, regarding him the way a mother might scold their disobedient child. Lance squirms a little bit.  

    “Buddy, you know I hate to say it, but —”

    “Not a single word from you —”

    “—I never thought Keith would ever be the one to bring out the worst in you.”

    Lance hangs his head. He just stands there, saying nothing, and hangs his head low because it stings more than it probably should. And the last thing he wants is for Hunk to see the pain there, to catch him demonstrating the kind of pathetic heartache he still fears his friends believe he secretly suffers from, even after all this time.

    “I’ll be in the back working on the rest of those puff pastries,” Hunk tells him, and gives Lance’s shoulder a comforting pat before disappearing into the kitchen. “Let me know if you need anything.”

    Somehow, Lance musters the strength to nod. It feels like a rusty hinge, creaking and aching, just like his knee as he kicks the toe of his shoe uselessly against the floor. But maybe that’s just how it’s supposed to go now, he thinks miserably. Maybe this is it. Maybe it won’t ever stop hurting. Maybe the chasm has grown too wide, and maybe they’ve long forgotten all the extraordinary and devastating ways they used to love each other; the ways they used to light each other up from the inside-out. And maybe Lance’s worst is coming out because he never learned how to be his best without Keith by his side. Or —

    With his back against the counter, Lance sinks to the floor, plopping himself down amongst the scattered pile of artificial sweeteners, and heaves a heavy, lung-rattling sigh.

    —Or maybe Lance is just the worst.

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @just-another-lightwood-bane!

Read on AO3

*****

The Perfect Christmas Gift

Christmas

Magnus laughed as he opened his door and Dot showered him in white confetti; the tiny pieces of paper settling on his shoulders and in his hair.

“I know you’re craving snow for Christmas Magnus, but I cant promise you any so I got some artificially for you!” She said, smiling as she reached out to brush away a few pieces.

“It’s lovely, Dot,” he replied, staring in awe around his apartment, which she had filled with decorations; at the centre a tall tree - branches heaving with baubles and lights.

“Well, it’s your first Christmas in California, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to miss out on everything.” Then she pressed a steaming cup of mulled wine into his hand, the richness of the spices and orange making his heart ache for his mother.

He sank into his soft sofa, pulling a Christmassy themed throw over his lap and patting the space beside him for his oldest friend.

They clinked mugs and toasted to one another and then Dot flipped on Netflix and loaded ‘Let It Snow!’

“Let’s watch a bad Christmas movie and drink away our worries,” she smiled, snuggling into his side, “Maybe it will inspire us to go out and do some cheesy things to find love this Christmas?!”

Beside her, Magnus managed a genuine smile as Joan Cusack began her voice over.

---------------------------------------------

Across town, Alec Lightwood was wrestling with a string of fairy lights in his sister’s flat.

“Why can’t you wind them up properly, Iz? Every year I have to spend my time unwinding them and checking every bulb and it’s so annoying!” he moaned.

“Oh come on Alec, you know you secretly love it! It means you get to spend extra time with me, your favourititist person in the whole world! Plus, you’re doing your one good deed for the year!” she laughed as she reached over and pinched his arm.

“Ow! Stop making words up, you know how much it annoys me. And what do you mean, my one good deed? You think I’m that horrible?”

Isabelle watched as he started to fiddle with the lights in his hand and her heart dropped. He was serious. And he thought she was too.

“Oh Alec!” She grabbed his upper arm and pulled him over to her enormous, bright orange couch, dragging him down on to it. “You are not horrible! You’re kind and generous and caring and you always look after me, even when I’m making terrible choices - like this ugly couch!”

“I like this ugly couch.” He grunted and then gave her one of his trademark wicked grins as she leaned over and punched his shoulder.

“Oi! That’s only cos Clary doesn’t like it…” she laughed

“It’s not! S’not anything to do with that.” He moaned.

“Sure it is! You’d do anything to be contrary towards her! Remember that time you said you hated M n M’s even though they’re your favourite just because Clary loves them? You’re just determined to be the complete opposite to her.”

Alec shoved his face into his sister’s shoulder and let out a deep groan, “Isabelle! I don’t do that...do I?”

“It’s not a bad thing, Alec. At least you’re engaging with our brother’s girlfriend. If you weren’t even acknowledging her that would be bad!” Isabelle ran a hand through his thick hair, “Time for a Christmas haircut I think, make yourself look good for the Christmas party and see if you can catch the eye of some hunk!”

“Izzy!” Alec moaned, sitting up, “I’m not looking for some hunk! I just want to get through this holiday season without making a fool of myself.”

“Which you will, I know last year was really harsh with Raj being a dick to you and all, but this year won’t be like that. He’s gone now and there’s no-one who will be mean to you like that again I’m sure.”

“Okay, I’ll get a haircut, but I’m still not looking for a hunk! And I don’t hate Clary, I just need to be sure she’s serious about Jace.” Alec said as he started wrestling with the lights again, Isabelle watching him with a frown.

-----------------------------------

“Magnus!” Clary yelled, waving her tiny hand as he crested the corner of the beauty hall. “I’m here!”

“Biscuit!” Magnus scooped the firey red-head into his arms and then held her at arm’s length as he took in her glowing cheeks, “Being in love certainly suits you!”

“I can’t even deny it, Magnus! It’s so true. Jace is amazing and I really love him. I’m so lucky I found him. But how are you? I know it can’t be easy with the holidays arriving.” They stepped towards a display of Christmassy nail polishes, and Magnus picked up a dark red, holding it against his skin to see how it looked.

“I’m okay, Clary. Dot decorated for me and my place looks like a winter wonderland, so I’ve got something to distract me a little. Plus you’re here and we’re shopping! Nothing better for the soul. Now, you said it was urgent? So what are we looking for?”

Clary pulled him away from the polishes and into the main section of the store, indicating the menswear area. “I need to get Jace’s brother something special for Christmas. I haven’t known him long and he’s pretty hard to read so I just have no clue what to buy him. I really need a man’s perspective.”

Magnus looked down at his friend, taking in the urgency with which she spoke, “You really love Jace don’t you? Spiky brother and all, you want all the Lightwoods in your life. I’m so happy for you, you found the one!”

Clary looked up at him, berry blush staining her cheeks, “Yes! I really want Alec to like me, because…” she paused, “I want to propose to Jace at Christmas!”

Magnus shrieked with delight, pulling Clary into his arms and rocking them back and forth in excitement, “Oh my god! You’re serious! This is amazing!”

They pulled back and Clary gazed up at him, eyes alight, “I just don’t want to be a cliche and wait for him. We’ve talked a little about our future and he knows he’s it for me, and he says I’m the one for him, but I don’t want to wait. We might not be too old, but I want him by my side for every new excitement and I want to be married to him. Is that very old fashioned of me?”

“Not at all, darling. I can see the pair of you married, sharing everything in your future as one. I get why you want this. Have you chosen a ring?”

“I made one!” She confided, then she released his arm and flicked through the photos on her phone to show him the design. His jaw dropped as he stared at it.

“Wow! Biscuit, it’s amazing!”

Clary dragged him further into the store, “This is why I need your help. I have to win Alec over, he and Jace are so close. But he doesn’t like me. He even said he hated M n M’s once because I said I liked them, when I know they’re his favourite! It’s so hard. Their sister, Izzy, is brilliant and we get on so well, but Alec’s like a cactus, he won’t let me close.”

Magnus scanned the store around them, taking in the different areas, wondering if there was anything in here to win over a spiky brother-in-law to be. “Maybe you should paint him something, Clary. Something to catch his attention and make him realise that you want to be friends and allies. What does he like?”

Clary gave him a sad smile, “I thought of that, but Magnus, he’s never honest with me. He sees me as some kind of brazen hussy who is here to steal his brother away and I can’t get close enough to him to find out what he actually enjoys or likes. So, that’s why I need you.”

“Okay, well, describe him and maybe I can find a nice sweater or some gloves or something…” Magnus trailed off as his attention was caught by a tall, dark haired man in the shirt section, holding up various prints and shaking his head. He was incredibly handsome, with tousled dark hair and a stubbled jaw line that Magnus wanted to stroke his fingers over.

“Well…” Clary began, voice full of mischief, “Actually, I don’t really want you to pick out a sweater or anything. I kind of want you to go meet him and work your magic and find out for me.” She pointed with a finger, indicating the man that Magnus had just been slavering over.

“Him, Biscuit? Really?” Clary nodded, “Are you sure that’s Jace’s brother, they look nothing alike!”

“Adopted brother,” Clary insisted, suddenly vanishing into a rail of clothes as Alec looked up and spotted Magnus.

The dark haired man stared over at him for a long beat, then his cheeks flushed and he looked back at the checked shirt he was holding in his hands. Magnus couldn’t make his eyes move away. The man was so deliciously attractive that he wanted to drink in the sight of him forever. Damn Clary and her nefarious plans!

From below, Clary coughed to get his attention and Magnus looked down. “Biscuit? When did you plan this?”

“Umm, Izzy helped me. She’s here somewhere, she’s supposed to be helping him choose, but she said she’d have an emergency and leave him alone. Then I thought you could swoop in and save the day, Izzy said he’s rubbish at choosing clothes.”

Magnus gave her a stern look. “This is very sneaky, even for you Clary.”

“I know. I know. But I can’t propose to Jace at Christmas with Alec standing there, if I haven’t even made him happy with the Christmas gift I gave him. I just want...want to get on with him and make sure Jace is happy too. Please help me!”

Magnus stared at her. She was serious, he could tell. And he could never refuse his Biscuit. “Okay, okay. I’ll do it. But you owe me big time!”

“The sun painting you love so much? That’s yours Magnus!” She reached out and hugged his legs. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Magnus gave her a wry grin and then turned back to his target - this was going to be interesting.

----------------------------

Alec felt the man’s presence before he spoke and whirled around just as he stepped into his personal space.

The shirt he was holding whipped the man’s arms and Alec dropped it as he became a flustered mess. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he stuttered out, gazing into warm brown eyes.

“That’s okay,” said a voice that sent a shiver of little thrills through Alec’s chest, “Here,” and then the shirt was being pressed back into Alec’s hands, fingertips grazing his, “Not sure it’s really your colour though?”

Alec stared at the man, unable to stop himself from looking. He was unbearably handsome, a chiselled face, prominent adam’s apple and artfully painted eyes. “Actually, I didn’t really know what was my colour if I’m honest. You don’t happen to work here do you? I really could do with some help.”

Magnus couldn’t help but be taken with Alec. He was a tall man with a large frame, yet he seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible which screamed ‘insecure’ at Magnus. His words only strengthened that feeling, and Magnus immediately felt like he understood why Alec was so resistant to Clary. He was probably terrified about being replaced in his brother’s life.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t…” Alec’s face dropped and he lowered the shirt in his arms, “But,” Magnus went on, “I am rather fashionable,” he indicated his own outfit with a little shimmy and enjoyed the way Alec’s eyes widened, “So I’d be happy to give you a hand, if you’d like?”

It took a little while for Alec to reply, eyes darting around as though he wanted to be somewhere else, “I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that,” he said, voice dulled with his disappointment.

“Sure you could,” Magnus insisted, holding out his hand to Alec, “My name’s Magnus and I’m really happy to be of assistance.”

Alec stared at his hand and then squared his shoulders and held out his own, “Alec Lightwood, really in need of assistance!”

They grinned at each other and Magnus felt like he could lose himself in the deep hazel of Alec’s eyes. “Right then, put that shirt down - that combination of pink and green checks should not be seen on anybody! Even I couldn’t pull that off, I guarantee it’ll be in the sale come Christmas Eve!”

Alec laughed a little as he dropped the hanger back on the rail. As he did, Magnus spotted Clary giving him a huge thumbs up from a little distance away, a dark haired girl beside her that must be Isabelle. He shared a grin with her for a second, before they both ducked back down behind the rails as Alec straightened up.

“Right,” Magnus said, steering Alec with a hand on his shoulder, “Let’s look at stripes, much more your scene I think!”

--------------------------

Almost twenty minutes later, Magnus and Alec had selected a few things for him to try on and were headed for the fitting room. They had bonded over their hatred for the garish paisley shirts, laughed at the tuxedo pants with the neon orange stripes down the side, and enjoyed a conversation with a shop assistant who was insisting they would both look amazing in the hideous checked shirt they had started with.

“Oh my goodness Magnus, we really should have gotten that shirt in both our sizes and tried it on, it would have been hilarious!” Alec said as they arrived at the fitting room. He was completely surprised at how well they were getting on, but he was out of breath from all the fun they’d been having and he felt euphoric!

“Well, Alexander,” (Magnus had taken to calling him his full name since he had guessed it between the hideous sick coloured green trousers and the bright purple shorts that only hit mid thigh) “What would you say if…”

Then he produced a pair of checked shirts from behind his back and held one out towards Alec, who started to laugh, huge belly laughs of joy!

“Brilliant Magnus! That’s awesome!” He said, grabbing the shirt and pulling it to his chest.

“I am brilliant, aren’t I?” Magnus replied, grinning.

Beside them, the fitting room staff exchanged grins and ushered them into cubicles to change.

When they stepped out in the matching shirts, both girls swooned at the sight of the happy couple. “You two look adorable together, those are perfect for Christmas Day!”

“Definitely, you’re the cutest couple ever!” The other girl chimed in.

Magnus and Alec stared at each other, each one with a slightly horrified expression at the hideousness of the shirts, but both of them with a secret wish that the girls were right and they were actually a couple.

“I don’t know darling,” Magnus said, winking at Alec. “I’m not sure that’s quite your color?”

Alec gave him a blinding grin, “ But sweetheart, it looks amazing on you! Perhaps it won’t matter so much how I look because everyone will be cooing over you?”

The shop girls swooned again as Magnus stepped over to Alec and smoothed his hands over his shoulders, “But we need to look amazing together at Christmas. I insist we get something we both suit otherwise it might spoil all the pictures…”

He trailed off, giving Alec a beseeching look.

“Pictures?” Alec said on cue. “What are you planning honey?”

“Oh nothing! Don’t worry your sexy little head about it, now go try on the stripes! Please?”

As Alec moved back into the changing room, Magnus turned to the shop girls and engaged them with a winning smile as he decided to play with them. “It’s a very special Christmas this year, if you know what I mean,” He said, waggling his eyebrows.

The girls melted into giggles as he turned to head back into the cubicle to finally get out of the hideous shirt.

When he emerged, the shop girls were cooing around Alec, who was looking pretty terrified by the attention, so Magnus strode over and flapped his hands to wave them away. Then he rested his hands on Alec’s broad shoulders and stared up into his eyes, “You okay?” he asked in a low voice, giving Alec a quick once over and appreciating the way the striped shirt stretched over his muscled chest.

“I am now… they kept asking me about us and our relationship and did I think you were the one… which seemed quite intimate to me…”

“Oh!” Magnus laughed, glint of excitement in his eye, “That might be my fault since I implied that I was planning to propose!”

Alec’s whole face lit up like a fire and he spluttered as he replied, “What do you mean propose?”

But he said it far too loudly, and it caught the girls attention and both their heads shot up like rabbits in headlights.

“Oh my god!” they chorused, “Did you just do it here in our changing room? Oh my goodness! Are you engaged?”

The two men stared at each other, one shocked, the other finding it all rather amusing. Magnus locked his eyes on Alec’s, question painted in them. After a beat, Alec grinned and slowly nodded.

“We are! I did! He said yes!” Magnus exclaimed, turning around to face the pair, dropping his hands from Alec’s shoulders and looping one around his waist instead. Beside him, Alec dropped an arm around Magnus too, letting his fingers rest casually on his hip.

Magnus shivered at the touch and snuggled a little closer to the warmth beside him.

“Oh my goodness! You two are the sweetest couple ever! We’re so lucky to have witnessed this! Shall I take a picture for you so you can remember it forever?”

Alec’s head dropped onto Magnus’ shoulder and he hid away. Magnus could feel him shaking a little, which either meant he was crying at the painful thought of marrying Magnus, or he was laughing at their predicament.

Mustering a grin, Magnus looked at the girls and said in his most enthusiastic voice, “That’d be lovely!”

As he was handing over his phone, a burly man strode into the changing area, face tightening into a smirk as he noticed the two girls who were clearly not working.

“Jessica, Anya! What are you doing just standing around - help these customers!”

“We were Sir. Actually, they just got engaged, right here in the store!”

The man’s eyes lit up! “Engaged, in my store? This is brilliant! Oh my goodness, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Magnus said, turning to look up at Alec who had a small smirk on his lips as he twisted at that exact second so that their eyes locked on one another’s. As hazel stared at chocolate, Magnus felt little tremors from the arm hooked around him and a thrum of excitement ran through him.

Alec was looking at him like a man in love. Either he was a really good actor… or…

“You must let us offer you something special to commemorate this exciting day!” the burly man went on, eyes alight at the thought of all the publicity he could generate, “That shirt for a start sir, which I must say suits you perfectly!”

“See, I told you you looked good in stripes, Alexander,” Magnus whispered as Alec’s eyes widened where they were still gazing at each other. Suddenly, Alec’s cheeks flushed a brilliant pink and he dropped his head, breaking their eye contact. But at the same time, his grip tightened on Magnus’ waist and he pulled him a little closer.

“Champagne!” The man suddenly yelled, hand flapping between the pair of them. “But first, how about a picture of the proposal, it would be a wonderful story to share with the world - a true tale of Christmas joy!”

Magnus shook his head, “No, not yet - we haven’t even told our friends and family yet.”

But even as he spoke, there was a shriek from the doorway and Isabelle and Clary barrelled in, “Magnus! Alec! What’s happening, what haven’t you told us?” Izzy said loudly, looking back and forth between the pair of them.

“Nothing,” Alec hissed, hand dropping from Magnus’ hip. Immediately, it felt colder in the fitting room.

“They just got engaged!” the two girls said, giggling.

“Engaged?” Isabelle’s surprise was genuine as she stared between her brother and Magnus, “En…”

“Of course you did!” Clary cut her off, rushing to Magnus and leaning in to hug him. “Engaged?” she whispered.

“Tell you later Biscuit,” he replied.

As they pulled away, Izzy rushed over to her brother and pulled him into her arms. “What’s going on Alec?” she asked him. He didn’t reply immediately, and when they pulled back she could see that he looked quite embarrassed.

“I was about to offer them some of our finest champagne,” the store manager cut in, “Since they got engaged here!”

“That sounds delicious,” Isabelle said, smiling kindly at the man, then tugging on her brother’s hand, “Come on Alec, let’s go find that champagne!”

They all traipsed out of the dressing room, the manager, then Magnus and Clary, Izzy and Alec and the giggling shop assistants at the rear.

On their way, the manager paused at the jewellery counter and said, “I would be honoured if you would choose an engagement ring here. We have a wide selection.”

Alec coughed nervously and Magnus cut in, “Oh no, actually, I’ve already had one designed.”

Alec stared at him, eyes widening slightly at the blush on the other man’s cheeks. “Oh really?” He asked, eyes alight now with mischief.

“Of course, darling, I would never give you a random ring from just any shop… show him, Biscuit!”

Clary stared at her friend for a long time, then pulled her phone from her pocket and flicked to a picture which she showed the siblings. They both gasped in surprise.

“That’s incredible, Magnus!” Isabelle said, eyeing her new ‘brother-in-law-to-be’, “How organised of you!”

Alec just stared at the picture, unable to look away. It was intricate and incredible. Two colours of metal twisted together. “I can’t…” he began, then was unable to get any more words out.

Suddenly, Magnus was in his arms, holding him tight. The other man was shaking slightly, “It’s for Jace isn’t it?” he whispered into Magnus’ neck, “Clary’s going to propose to him, right?”

“It’s not my secret to tell…”

Alec lifted his head and stared hard at Magnus.

“But you guessed! So yes… it is.”

Alec took a deep breath, then pulled away from Magnus and stepped over to Clary.

They looked at each other for a long time. Then suddenly, Alec pulled her into his arms, lifting her from the floor. She automatically wrapped her arms around him too, shooting a quizzical glance over his shoulder at Magnus and Izzy.

“Thank you,” Alec said softly, “Thank you for loving my brother. He’s lucky to have you and he’s going to say yes!”

When they pulled back, tears were sliding down Clary’s cheeks and she reached out a hand and slipped it into Alec’s, squeezing it tightly.

Izzy clutched Magnus’ arm tightly, the hugest grin on her face. The sound of a champagne cork popping, brought the whole group back to their senses and they realised that a huge crowd of staff had gathered around them.

“For you!” The manager shouted, handing around glasses of bubbling liquid, “Congratulations on your engagement at Foster and Stewarts! May we wish you years of happy marriage! Hip Hip…”

“Hooray!” The whole crowd yelled, then began to chant, “Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…”

Alec looked over at Magnus, whose eyes were alight with laughter. He raised his eyebrows, nose dancing with them…

Alec stepped forward. Magnus stepped forward. Magnus nodded at him and then Alec leant down and pressed their lips together in a perfect first kiss.

They pulled away in unison, eyes locked on each others, then Alec’s eyes dropped back to Magnus’ lips and Magnus surged up, arms circling Alec’s shoulders as he angled his head and met Alec again in another soft kiss.

Around them the crowd cheered and whooped with excitement as the two men deepened the kiss, lips carressing each others. Only Izzy, coughing discretely reminded them of where they were and then they pulled back, eyes shining with joy, Magnus’ arm looped around Alec.

The whole crowd raised their glasses and then they all drank, ‘To Magnus and Alec!’

Later, as they were leaving the store, bags of goodies on their arms, Alec turned to Magnus and shyly offered him his hand.

“Well, Alec,” Clary said, looking between the pair, “I asked Magnus to help me find you the perfect Christmas gift…” she paused, “And I guess he did?”

Alec smiled at her, “You found me the perfect Christmas gift together! Magnus will you be my Christmas present?”

Magnus laughed, eyes alight with mischief as he leaned up towards the taller man, “Only if you’ll unwrap me later?”

As Alec’s cheeks blushed a firey red, Izzy and Clary giggled together and skipped off down the road. Then Magnus hooked a hand around Alec’s neck and pulled him down for a brief kiss. “You are the best thing I could have wished for this year, Alexander, I hope you want to be my gift next year too.”

Their lips met in the perfect embrace as snow started to fall softly around them.

The End.

[klancin-with-myself]

shut your mouth and let my body talk

Summary: They all have their ways of decompressing from the stresses of the universe. Keith's vice just so happens to keep Pidge in a state of blissful contentment.

Rating: Explicit

keith eats pidge’s pussy.

read here or on AO3.

It had taken five years in space for Keith to find his outlet. His teammates - his family - had found theirs long ago. Some of them had never been made to find them, like Lance; yoga could be done anywhere, at any time. Oftentimes, the blue paladin would retreat to his room or the observation deck and spend hours contorting his body into all kinds of positions that had Keith wondering if Lance would disable his joints at will. Hunk channeled his emotions into either baking or meticulously ripping apart any mechanical thing he came across, figuring out what made it run, and then putting it back together with a higher functionality than what he found it with. 

Shiro had taken to reading. Pidge had invented an overlay that could be placed over the Altean novels, translating the words into any Terran language. Shiro didn’t even bother trying to hide how giddy he was to be able to read a book again, and frequently holed himself up in the castleship’s library, curling up in a squashy chair and reading for hours on end, a content smile on his face. 

Pidge’s escapes tended to shift. She hadn’t done much relaxing before she’d found Matt. She’d always been working on some new algorithm to find him, or on some new upgrade for the Green Lion. After being reunited with Matt, she relaxed considerably, playing video games with him, building things, working on the other lions (while remembering to sleep adequately, because even Pidge wasn’t immune to Matt’s weaponized puppy eyes).

At first, Keith’s only respite from the new, harsh reality he’d been thrust into was training. Methodically destroying the training droids (Allura gave him hell for it, but was secretly pleased when Pidge and Hunk rebuilt them into something more challenging), running laps, honing his skills. At first, it had been enough.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

When he finally settled on something, it ended up shifting the dynamic of how the rest of the team spent their down time. Not drastically, of course. Not in any way that meant that the others couldn’t do what they wanted. They just had to, maybe, stay away from the general vicinity of Keith’s bedroom. Or put ear plugs in.

Keith’s mental retreat was more of a vice. 

More than a vice, it was an addiction. 

He craved it. Became temperamental without it. Begged if he were denied it. Consumed it like a man starved, let it consume him like a wave of lava rolling down the slope of a volcano. 

It had the side effect of once again shifting Pidge’s outlet. Shaped it from an outlet into a release, a spout, a fountain. Shaped indents into her thighs where his head fit perfectly into as she clamped down around him. Shaped the back of her neck into an arch as she let her body fly from the bed as Keith indulged. 

He supposed he should feel a little guilty. The one escape he found that allowed the weight of the universe to melt away also involved pulling Pidge away from the things that she wanted to do. (They’d tried it, once, while she was working - she’d burned herself with a soldering iron and spent the rest of the day with a weird Altean gel pack strapped to her hand.) She’d reassured him, however, multiple times, that having her mind go numb and white and fuzzy at the edges was incredibly therapeutic, and had often led to further breakthroughs with her projects. All he had to do was glance at her, heat in his eyes, a quick tongue on his lip, and she would let him lead her away. 

And that’s exactly what he’d done today. He found her in the lounge, lazily typing away on her laptop. She wore one of his t-shirts, loose on her slender frame, and a pair of long shorts that stopped just below her knees. She was barefoot, her toes wriggling or scrunching up every so often as her brilliant mind worked through whatever she was trying to figure out. Keith stood by the door, arms folded, watching her fingers fly over the keys, smirking at the way her brow crinkled and smoothed. He stepped into the lounge after another moment of soaking in the wild mess of her hair, which hadn’t changed much in five years. Pidge’s eyes flicked up at the sound of his footsteps, and a smirk formed on her own lips, her typing slowing down subconsciously. 

Keith knelt down, his knee resting on the back of the inset couch, and when Pidge looked up at him, he pushed a hand into her hair and pulled their lips together roughly, allowing the kiss to fall tender as she opened up to him. His kiss was a question as much as it was a greeting, a request and a plea, and an expression of the emotions he was so bad at giving words to. Pidge lifted her hands from her laptop, grasping his wrist and cupping his jaw, kissing him back with equal amounts of fervor. She wasn’t so great with words either, and Keith loved her all the more for it. When he finally pulled back, his breath was heavy and damp and needy, and Pidge huffed a laugh against his lips.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed softly. 

She’d never told him no, never sent him away, and yet his relief every time was a cool wave washing over him and soothing away his anxiety. She slid her laptop off her legs and slipped her small hand into his, and he pulled her up to her feet easily. She moved fluidly, stepping up onto the floor and into his arms in one easy motion. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lowered his lips to hers again, wishing not for the first time that he could simply toss her down and take her here on the couch, the walk to his room seeming unbearable in its distance. Pidge hummed against his mouth, her lips curving into a smirk as she pressed her body against his and felt his growing erection pressing against her abdomen through their clothes. She broke the kiss with a nip to his lower lip, drawing in a sharp breath through her nose.

“You shaved. Like, ten minutes ago,” she said, mildly accusatory. Keith cocked a smirk at her, his eyes glimmering with amusement. 

“I can be sweet,” he murmured, rubbing his smooth cheek against hers. Pidge chuckled, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. 

“Fucking sap,” she said. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Whatever, let’s go.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the shell of her ear, tongue darting out to curl around it, winning him a hiss of pleasure. “I’m hungry.”

Pidge made a noise, half indignant and half aroused, and Keith grinned at her, his eyes crinkling in barely concealed delight. He squeezed her hand and drew her backward, leading her down to his bedroom. 

He barely resisted the urge to cram the two of them into a utility closet as they passed it, though he did fail at resisting the tempting heat of her mouth, pressing her against a wall more than once, hiking her legs up and grinding against her core as his tongue plundered her mouth, a taste of what he’d be doing to other orifices very soon. Pidge indulged him, her laughter each time cutting off in a groan as his kiss sent shockwaves down her body, lighting her arousal on fire and driving her patience away. Pidge was growling into his mouth, hands fisted in his shirt, shoving him back toward his door when they finally reached it. One of Keith’s hands flew back to smack the control panel, sending the door sliding open and them stumbling in. She took care of closing the door, leaning back against it to catch her breath as Keith stared at her with a predatory look in his violet eyes, panting harshly. Smirking at him, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts, dragging them down her hips, revealing slim thighs -

Keith snarled, hands shooting out to grip her hips to hold her still. Pidge continued to smirk up at him, devious little shit that she was, and he touched his forehead to hers with a groan. His hands gripped the sides of her neck gently, and he kissed her, rough and wet and brief. He fell to his knees and he dragged his hands slowly down her body, palms pressing into her sides. His thumbs brushed across her breasts, and of course she wasn’t wearing a bra. Did underthings not exist in her wardrobe anymore? He groaned, burying his face into her hard stomach. His hands continued their trek down her body, squeezing her hips, scratching down her thighs. He pressed his palms down her legs, prickly with unshaven hair, kissing just below her navel, reverent and soft. He resisted the urge to tickle her ankles, drawing his hands back upward, his thumbs leading inward. He groaned again, cursing under his breath.

Her arousal shone on her thighs, shiny and slick and quickly driving away Keith’s threadbare self control. He grasped her left leg and hoisted it up, resting her foot on the little table by his door and baring her cunt to him. He leaned in, kissing her mons and reveling in the full body shudder that coursed through her. Her folds were slick and only open from her leg being spread so far. He kissed her a little lower, and she canted her hips forward. It could have been a demand, but they both knew it for what it really was - encouragement, an offering. Beneath all of that, a gentle request for Keith to relax and enjoy himself, to cast off the burden of the universe and simply be a man with human desires and cravings. As his thumbs found her outer labia, gently opening her to him, Keith thought that that was his favourite part about the way they crashed together. That she did all of this for him. That she wanted him to let go and indulge and relax. Wanted him to use her body for his own escape from reality. 

So he treated her like a temple, pressing a devout, sacrilegious kiss to the living statue of her clit, basking in the way she hummed contentedly, rolling her hips forward again. He kissed her again, then rocked back on the balls of his feet and stood, dragging her against him and kissing her soundly. She lifted her arms and rested them on his shoulders as she kissed him back, the curve of a smile never really leaving her lips. Keith’s hands flirted down her body and he gave her pert ass a squeeze, smirking into the kiss as she jolted against him. He bent his knees and adjusted his grip to just below her rear, easily hefting her off her feet and holding her against him. She huffed into his mouth, amused, clamping her legs around his waist and burying her fingers into his soft black hair. 

Keith turned and stepped toward his bed, lowering her down onto it gently. Her legs didn’t release him, loosening only enough to allow him to shift onto the bed and hover over her. Pidge rubbed at his sides with her legs, purposefully dragging his shirt up. He twisted his arms back and yanked the shirt over his head, not missing the damp spot on the front of it where her crotch had pressed against him, and if he breathed in a little deeper while he was dragging the shirt over his head, well, she either didn’t notice or didn’t say anything. He flipped his shirt away from him and fell back onto Pidge’s lips, drawn to her like a magnet, secretly pleased with the way her eyes raked over him before fluttering shut in bliss. Pidge was a fantastic kisser, her edges softening as her tongue slipped against his, and Keith felt like he could kiss her for hours. They did, sometimes. In this moment, that’s not what he wanted. He couldn’t wait anymore, even if he tried, even if he were commanded by Shiro in his best Disappointed Voice. Desire burned brighter than the red of his lion, than the red of his blood. His head was pounding and he knew the only cure for it rested between her legs. 

Keith left her lips, smirking at her shortness of breath. He kissed at her throat and gently squeezed her breasts through the shirt of his that she still wore. He’d leave it on this time, he thought. She looked amazing in it, the way it hung on her slender frame, how it draped to one side to expose her collarbone. It was a good look for her, and the sight of her in his shirt with her legs spread for him would have made him weak in the knees if he hadn’t already been on them. He slid back down, kneeling on the floor, dragging her hips to the edge of the bed. Pidge dutifully draped her thighs over his shoulders, her fingers tightening and relaxing around the bedsheets in anticipation. 

He sat back and settled his eyes on the juncture of her thighs, the lips of her cunt covered in enough slick that it caused even the soft, short hair there to shine. His cock throbbed in his pants as he caught her scent, an intoxicating musk that had his mind reeling. He leaned in, peppering kisses along the insides of her thighs as he went, smiling as she hummed happily. He finally came face to face with her hole, he sighed, his hot breath rolling over her lips. He opened his mouth, pressed the flat of his tongue against her slit, and drew it from her perineum to her clit. Pidge moaned, long and low and satisfied, and Keith’s cock let him know just how attractive that noise was. 

Using both thumbs again, he pried her open, gently easing her lips apart until her tight little gash was exposed to him. Hot, he knew it would be so hot when he touched his tongue to it, and it glistened with slick and twitched with arousal. He groaned, burying his face into her thigh. 

“You’re killing me, Pidge,” he mumbled, nipping at her soft flesh. Before she could so much as hum in response, he sought her hole again, pressing his mouth against her fully, rolling his tongue across her clit and sucking on it gently. She cried out, hands flung out beside her, arching from the bed at his sudden onslaught. He gentled his tongue, curling it around her clit once more before delving lower. His mouth covered her slit completely, tongue working her open, sucking on her folds and soaking his face in her slick. He nudged at her clit with his nose and then pressed his tongue into her passage, effectively burying his face into her cunt. 

She tasted like nothing he could have imagined before, and sweeter than anything he’d had since. Tangy and milky if he delved deep enough, slippery and sweet as it dripped from her folds. If he worked her up enough, it slipped down her thighs like an early morning rainfall, sticking to her thighs and making everything a damp mess that he was all too happy to take responsibility for and clean up. He wanted her musky, heady scent in his nose, wanted her honey smeared across his face like warpaint. Keith could live and die with his mouth on her cunt and never regret a moment of it. She was refreshing even as she left him gasping for a another drink, crawling toward the oasis between her legs. 

He hummed, content to work his mouth so slowly against her slit, sucking on her folds and her clit intermittently, rolling his tongue over her and dipping it in and out. One of his hands crept up her stomach to rest at the base of her ribcage, thrilling at the feeling of her stomach and chest rising and falling at an increasingly rapid pace. His free hand fell to where his mouth was, using two fingers to spread her apart further. They slipped almost immediately, sliding through her juices and settling between her inner and outer labia. Above him, Pidge moaned, canting her hips down and grinding Keith’s mouth against her further. It was his turn to moan, then, tilting his head to the side, not dissimilar to when he kissed her mouth, his tongue flicking rapidly over her clit. She gasped, one of her hands flying up to grasp at the one pressed to her chest. Her fingers curled around his hand, pressing her nails into his palm, and his chest tightened with affection, momentarily pausing to kiss her folds. 

Keith pulled his face back, feeling the cooler air hit the slick on his cheeks and grinning. He moved his fingers up, pinching her clit between them and rolling it, violet eyes trained on her as her back arched off the bed again. She released his hand, grasping at the bedsheets again in a vain attempt at grounding herself. He let his fingers trail down her opening just enough for him to slide them into her slick channel. Pidge whimpered, an open mouth whine that Keith wanted to hear more of. He drew his fingers out and then drove them back in, twisting them as he went. 

“Oh,” she moaned, her voice an octave higher than it normally was. Tight and high sounded good on her, Keith had decided long ago. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, twisting and curling them, his eyes heavy lidded and his cock painfully hard in his pants at the sounds that spilled from her lips. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Harder.”

He obliged almost immediately, never able to resist any demand she made. He began to piston his fingers in and out of her cunt, his lips descending on her again, tongue fluttering over her clit. Her little gasps and moans grew louder, unhindered and unashamed, having long since lost any care for others hearing her. He pressed his lips around her clit, working his tongue over it at a furious pace. Saliva mixed with her juices, dripping onto the sheets below her hips. His fingers were making the most delightful, obscene noises as they pumped in and out. She was soaked, and with every withdraw of his fingers, a string of clear fluid connected them to her opening, drawing him back in as if it were elastic. Her whimpering grew louder, her breath hitching in her throat. She sat up suddenly, her legs tightening around his head, burying her fingers into his thick black hair. 

“Don’t stop, I--” she demanded, cutting herself off with a guttural moan. She tugged on his hair almost painfully, but it only encouraged him, drove him to shove his fingers in harder, twist them more sharply, agitating her clit with his tongue until she fractured around him, shattering like glass. Her moans reached a fever pitch, loud and sharp as the walls of her cunt clamped down around his fingers. He moaned with her, eyes fluttering shut as he fucked her through her climax with his fingers, the tense and release of her walls drawing his fingers in like the vacuum of space. The sloppy, wet noises only intensified, and the whimpers of the last of Pidge’s orgasm went straight to his dick, which had been pulsing painfully in his pants the entire time. He moaned again, lapping plaintively at her cunt, easing his fingers to a slow drag as she came down from her high. He looked up at her through dark lashes, mouth still on her slit, his eyes narrow in amusement. 

Pidge’s fingers were still buried in his hair, and she dragged him up by it and kissed him breathlessly. Her lips were dry from gasping, open mouthed and out of breath, but his own drenched lips more than made up for it. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, letting her taste herself in him. He wondered if she found her own fluids as intoxicating as he found them, thought maybe he didn’t want to share this sweet ambrosia even with her. Her legs were still on his shoulders (and her flexibility still kept him sweating) and she gently bumped them into the sides of his head. He opened his eyes and she had him snared again, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement and challenge. 

“Again.” 

It wasn’t a request.

Keith smirked against her lips. “Aren’t rotary phones still a thing?” Her legs tightened around his head and he squeezed the outside of her thighs playfully.

“I haven’t used a rotary phone in ages,” she said. He sunk back to his knees, his eyes not leaving hers as he leaned forward and dipped his tongue into her slit, licking at her fluids. 

“Why not?” he asked coquettishly. 

“I - ah, shit - have you,” she sighed. Keith grinned against her opening, kissing her folds. If his brain weren’t complete jelly later, he’d maybe try to articulate to her just how happy he was that he satisfied her enough that she didn’t feel the need to touch herself anymore. Try to impress to her that she made him feel the exact same way. He’d probably end up stuttering over his words, feeling them catch in his throat and sit there like a half swallowed pill. He was better with his actions, though, so he sealed his mouth over her cunt again, letting every swipe of his tongue tell her what she did to him. Pidge squirmed, crying out and bucking her hips, oversensitive, overstimulated, overwhelmed. Over everything, by the sound of it. Keith savoured every sound she made, every twitch of her body. 

He slid two fingers back into her, and Pidge’s body accepted them easily, squelching noisily in her fluids. He curled his fingers and rotated them, the dirty, wet noises driving him wild. His own neglected cock throbbed in his pants; he thought briefly of releasing himself and wrapping a fist around his aching member, but the thought of deviating any attention away from the writhing, electric goddess in front of him seemed a cardinal sin. Keith suckled at her clit as he worked his fingers in and out of her, his room filling with slick noises and breathy, desperate moans.

“More,” Pidge gasped. He flicked his eyes back up at her - her face was completely obscured, thrown back into the bed, her chest heaving with every breath and whine. Her hands roamed the sheets, grasping and clawing at them, and her thighs shook upon his shoulders. He began to drive his fingers into her more forcefully than before, his knuckles bumping against her pelvic bone, her slick beginning to drip down his wrist. She cried out at the force he applied, and he nearly backed off but for knowing her so well, knowing that the particular noises she was making were only made when she was insensate with pleasure. 

He wanted to put his lips back on her, but with the force he was using on her beautiful little cunt, he found that he had to adjust his angles. He crouched lower, angling his fingers upwards, allowing him to latch back onto her clit and work it feverishly with tongue and teeth and lips. When he began thrusting his fingers in again, resuming his vicious pace, Pidge shouted. She thrashed above him, her small hands grasping at nothing, the muscles in her legs tightening and clenching around his head. 

“God - fuck - yes,” she babbled. “Yes, Keith, fuck.” Groaning loudly, Keith worked at her furiously, his jaw aching beautifully, his wrist borderline cramped, but he couldn’t stop, didn’t want to, not when Pidge was sobbing out above him, when her fluids were sliding down his arm to drip from his elbow. The filthy, sodden noises coming from her cunt began to grow - they doubled, tripled until it sounded like he was was splashing in a tub of water. Pidge made a different noise, sounding nearly alarmed and confused for a brief moment before she cried out again, devastated by another orgasm. 

Clear fluid burst from her cunt when Keith’s fingers withdrew; too shocked to stop, he pressed them back in and when he drew them back again, more fluid cascaded out of her, arcing over his fingers. He dipped his mouth back down to her, groaning, his eyelids shutting as jets of fluid spouted from her cunt and splashed across his face. His eyes rolled back in their sockets and with each pulse of her come on his face, each flutter of her inner walls around his fingers, his cock throbbed in his pants. His hips oscillated, thrusting against nothing. Pidge cried out, her voice hoarse and cracked, and another wave of come poured from her cunt like holy water over a sinner. Keith caught it in his mouth with a vulgar, sordid groan. He swallowed quickly and that incredible, clear nectar might as well have been liquid fire. Every pleasure receptor in his body lit up like she’d struck him with her bayard, and he cursed as she squirted on him again. He groaned loudly, his own hips thrusting, his cock pulsing and suddenly he was coming, untouched in his jeans. His thrusting fingers faltered as his abdomen clenched, and he sucked on her clit desperately. 

The last weak spurt of her fluids trickled down his arm, and she whimpered, her legs trembling violently on his shoulders. His breath came in harsh, ragged pants, and he nuzzled against her inner thigh, smiling tiredly. Keith crawled up her body when he finally figured out how to use the muscles in his legs again. He hovered over her, looking upon her face and falling in love all over again. Her brown eyes were hazy and unfocused, her hair was tangled and wilder than ever from thrashing. Her face and neck were flushed, and if he pulled his shirt down, he’d find her chest splotched with red as well. Her lips were swollen from having bitten them, dry from her panting and screaming. He licked his lips and then covered her mouth with his own, kissing her sweetly and letting her taste herself on his tongue. Pidge kissed him lazily, one hand fumbling down to cup his cock. She smirked against his lips when she felt him soft and damp, and he pulled back, flushed and pouting. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere, sparky,” she murmured huskily. She grasped his head and kissed him again, surprising him again by finding the strength in her legs to wrap them around his waist, grinding her sodden core into the damp spot on his pants. Keith groaned into her mouth, cradling her face with his still wet hand. He felt his cock stirring again, and his mouth quirked upward in a smirk. Pidge dug her fingers into his hair, scratching at his scalp with blunt nails. She loosened her legs around him and pulled back from the kiss, delight flickering in her eyes once again. 

“Back to work, smart mouth.” 

[takaraphoenix]

Phoe’s Advent Calendar: Day 13

Ah, this one didn’t come from tumblr but from FFNet. *grins*

Title: Advent Calendar Project – Prince in Peril

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender

Disclaimer: All rights to the remake reserved to DreamWorks, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, and to the original to Toei Animation. This fanfiction on the other hand is entirely mine. No money is made with this, though reviews are more than welcomed.

Warnings: shounen-ai, polyamory (threesome), medieval, knights, fluff, sharing body-heat

Main Pairing: Shiro/Keith/Lance

Voltron Characters: Lance Charles McClain, Keith Kogane, Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane

Summary: Keith and Shiro set out to save the prince, who got abducted by a vicious dragon. Only that Lance didn't get abducted, he ran away. That he ran straight into the arms or a dragon is an entirely different story.

Links: FFNet | AO3

Prince in Peril

Lance groaned frustrated where he sat in his golden cage, looking down at the two stupidly handsome knights. Shiro and Keith, the strongest, fiercest, handsomest knights of the Altean Kingdom. The very reasons why Prince Lance of Altea had run away in the first place.

"Go away", grunted Lance nonplussed. "I don't need saving."

Keith raised one elegant eyebrow, looking like the cocky shit Lance knew him to be. "You're literally sitting in a golden cage, dangling from the ceiling, being guarded by a dragon."

Lance opened his mouth to protest as Shiro offered that dazzlingly blinding smile of his. Urgh. Stupid, perfect, broad-shouldered knight. Lance was so gone on both of them, which was exactly why Lance had run away. He couldn't continue watching Shiro and Keith secretly kiss behind the stables, looking gorgeous together and loving each other, while Lance was a prince. He would never be able to even secretly have that kind of love. He'd one day be married off to some princess. And sure, he liked girls just as much as knights, but right now he was maddeningly in love with Shiro and Keith, so how was he supposed to move on from that if he had to see them every day? He just wanted to get away, wanted a chance to get over them and make his own way without responsibility. He wasn't next in line anyway, his big sister Allura would be a good and fair queen and the people already loved her anyway. He was just the 'spare heir'. The goofball little brother no one really took seriously. It wasn't his fault he had run straight into a dragon though!

"You were abducted from the palace-", started Shiro in that gentle tone of his.

"No, I wasn't. I ran away. This is just... a set-back. But I can handle it on my own", groaned Lance.

"...Ran away?", echoed Keith in disbelief before turning to Shiro. "Did... Did he really just...?"

"Yes, he did", confirmed Shiro, frowning. "Why would you run away, my prince?"

And that. That was exactly why he had run away. He would never be more than their prince. They would never see him as their equal, much less as a love interest. No one would ever see Lance as just Lance. Everyone always just saw the royal prince. Allura's baby-brother. Gritting his teeth, Lance looked away from the two handsome heroes, instead glaring at the ground.

"My prince?", asked Shiro gently, clearly confused. "Did... anything happen?"

"If someone hurt you, show me their face", growled Keith darkly, protectively.

Lance flushed at that. Another reason why he had to leave. They were both fiercely protective of Lance, always nice to Lance. But those were their jobs. They didn't do it because they cared about Lance as a person. All the while Lance was stupidly, hopelessly in love with them both.

The next moment, Lance was free falling and screaming. Apparently, Keith had opened the cage. Lance would be cussing if not for Shiro's insanely strong arms catching him. Lance flushed brightly as he found himself carried princess-style by Shiro, the knight smiling down at him charmingly.

"Let's get you out of here for now, my prince", stated Shiro firmly.

"Uhm... Shiro. I think we should stay a little longer", disagreed Keith with a glare.

He had gone ahead to the entrance of the cave, pointing at the snow outside. The sky was black as white fell in a harsh storm. Shiro's grip on Lance tightened as the two knights walked away from the cave's entrance, going deeper into the cave toward the dragon's hoard. Gold and treasure, but also silk and expensive fabrics that would do well for a makeshift bed.

"...You can put me down", grunted Lance frustrated.

Keith glared in equal frustration as he watched Shiro put down their prince. Honestly, Keith had hoped this to be a grand rescue. That their prince would fawn over them, be grateful and admire them for being his heroes. Instead, their prince was being completely ungrateful. Sure, the feelings Keith and Shiro had for their prince were absolutely inappropriate, but was it really asking too much to get a basic level of gratitude from the pretty prince? Instead of focusing on Lance, Keith started making a fire. With the snow-storm outside, temperatures had fallen fast now and their prince was already shuddering. Shiro all the while was gathering all soft fabrics in the cave while the prince just stood awkwardly around, shifting and decidedly not looking at them.

"Is it us?", asked Keith with gritted teeth.

"W—What?", asked Lance startled and confused.

"Are we making you uncomfortable? Did you run away because your guards make you uncomfortable?", clarified Keith, concentrating on the fire. "We literally came to save you and you act like we're annoying you with that. You ran away. You're the prince. What... What reason did you have to run away? If it is us, then we can... ask for a transfer. Hunk and Matt can be your new guards, you won't have to deal with us if that's it."

"...Why would you... What?", asked Lance confused and stunned.

"Keith", growled Shiro sharply in warning.

"No", grunted Keith, glaring at Shiro in defiance while gesturing at the prince. "What do you think why he ran away, huh? Why he's so stubborn about not needing us! Because he doesn't want us here, Shiro. Remember the last princess we saved? She practically threw herself at you!"

"What? So you'd rather I'd throw myself at you?", snorted Lance cynically.

Keith blinked confused. "Well, yes, isn't that the problem?"

"...What?", asked Lance blankly.

"My prince...", started Shiro, voice wavering a little. "Maybe we should eat something."

Both Keith and Lance stared at him dumbly for a couple of moments for just how subtle his topic change had been. Still, they complied. Keith got the provisions out they had taken along and the three of them gathered around the fire, sharing bread, water and cheese in awkward silence.

"I prepared a sleeping space for us", offered Shiro as they finished their meal. "It's... going to be a cold night. It would be best for us to share heat during the night."

"H—Heat?", sputtered Lance red-cheeks.

"Yes. Body-heat", grunted Keith and rolled his eyes. "Because if you freeze to death during our watch, the king will have our heads. Just... settle in. We'll join you in a moment."

Lance frowned at Keith. Why was Keith being so weird? Sure, he was always kind of weird, but this was a whole new level. While Lance slowly got comfortable in the soft fabrics, he watched out of the corner of his eyes how the two knights undressed. Well, they got out of their armors at least. Lance's cheeks flushed once more and he settled down, closing his eyes and deciding to pretend he was already asleep. Maybe they could just not have any more awkward conversations.

"Why is he so... so... him?", muttered Keith frustrated as the two knights sat down next to the supposedly sleeping prince. "He's been so awkward around us for weeks now. I thought if we'd save him, we'd get back onto his good side, or something. I thought..."

"You did think he'd throw himself at you", snorted Shiro fondly, gently brushing Lance's hair out of the prince's face. "Honestly, even I was expecting it a bit. Maybe you are right. Maybe we should assign Hunk and Matt to be his guards. Clearly, we have been overstepping and making him too uncomfortable around us. He never used to react these ways around us. He used to be happy to see us. Now he was so... frustrated. Perhaps you and I have done a bad job at hiding our feelings for him. Perhaps it is time to step back. Even though you and I both want to stay the ones protecting him. But we know we can trust Matt and Hunk with our prince."

"But he's our prince, Shiro", hissed Keith angrily. "Ours!"

Lance frowned confused. Theirs? Not just their prince? They were hiding their feelings? For him? He had no idea what that whole conversation even meant. Frown morphing into a glare, he sat up suddenly, startling both knights. He blinked as he looked from one to the other.

"What feelings?", asked Lance sharply, still looking from one to the other.

"...Did you seriously fake sleeping?", asked Keith stunned.

"What feelings?", repeated Lance again, still staring at them intensely.

"My prince", started Shiro, looking down at his hands shamefully. "I know it is highly inappropriate and it was not our place to look at you that way, yet over the past months of being assigned your personal guards, we... We have developed desires for you that go far beyond what a knight should feel for their prince. And if our feelings for you made you uncomfortable-"

"Are you... serious?", interrupted Lance stunned, staring doe-eyed from one to the other. "B—But you two have each other. You don't need a spoiled brat."

"You're not a spoiled brat. You're a prince who plays with the villagers' children in the apple orchids and who milked a cow himself to bring his sick sister a glass of warm milk when the cook was feeling unwell himself. You're the prince who helped his sister hide her weird pet-mice from the governess when you were children. You're kind and caring and sweet and beautiful", listed Keith, sounding utterly frustrated. "We do. We don't just want you, we do need you."

Lance blinked slowly as he stared at the normally emotionally constipated knight with wide eyes. Keith didn't say stuff like that. Keith would never say stuff like that without meaning them. That meant that Keith liked Lance and also that Shiro liked Lance. Lance returned to looking wide-eyed from one knight to the other. His knights... liked him. He couldn't help but start laughing.

"T—This is ridiculous", gasped Lance breathlessly. "I—I ran away because you hid your feelings so well! I ran away because I was having feelings for you a—and thought... thought that you two were together and happy and I was... unnecessary. I wanted some distance, to get... over this."

"...Really?", asked Keith stunned. "But..."

Lance, calmed down now, slowly licked his lips and ducked his head. "I... really like you two a lot and seeing the two of you kiss behind the barn always makes me feel... jealous. Excluded. And that's stupid and selfish, so I thought it was best to... get away for at least a little while."

"Can... I be bold, my prince?", asked Shiro, holding his breath.

"Su—ure", nodded Lance, eagerly watching Shiro.

Shiro grasped him by the neck and pulled him into a brief kiss. "May I propose that you... and I and Keith... that we... share this love. Together. Behind the barn and in your chambers."

"Uhu. Yeah. That... That sounds awesome", nodded Lance lamely, too stunned for more words.

Keith grunted in agreement and pulled Lance down into a kiss of their own. The prince was shuddering in Keith's arms and Keith knew it wasn't just his kissing skills. As they parted, Keith safely tucked Lance between himself and Shiro for warmth and together, they settled down for the night, falling asleep curled together and happy.

~*~ The End ~*~

[kirishwima]

LA Da Dee by Cody Simpson is a perfectly klance song.

Honestly this is such a sweet summer song, if 13-year old me heard it you can bet everything u got i’d have listened to it on repeat while thinking about a crush LOL (aka i love it, and it definitely is a perfect klance song

send me a song & a fandom/pairing and i’ll write a short drabble based on the song!

*******

It’s a celebration.

For Lance, every summer day is, but tonight is a big night, it’s a party at his best friend’s house, Hunk’s cheeks flushed with the taste of alcohol, his laughter louder than usual, a group of friends besides him laughing along, probably with stories of his and Lance’s shenanigans.

Pidge is in the corner, secretly controlling the music and laughing when people wonder about her song choices, why suddenly there’s early 200s music playing, her evil snickers hidden behind her cool facade.

Lance feels good.

He’s got a drink in hand, dancing with a different friend every few minutes, each one coming up to greet him with a smile and a hug, his own grin matching theirs as he sees new and old faces, people he’s seen just hours ago and people he hasn’t seen in months.

Yet something feels off, as if his free hand is missing something it should be holding, his grin growing more tired by the minute.

Until he sees him.

Lance had stepped out for a minute, taking a quick walk down the staircase and heading to the little wooden road leading down to the beach, content with the fading of the music, now a soft hum in the distance, just barely audible over the sound of waves, over the summer breeze cooling his clammy skin.

He’s ankle-deep in the ocean, humming the lyrics of the song on his lips when he hears a soft giggle behind him, not even needing to turn and see who it belonged to.

“Join me” he laughs, already hearing footsteps nearing him, “I’ve missed you”

There were hands snaking behind him and wrapping around his waist, a mop of black hair in his field of vision as lips met his neck.

“You saw me three hours ago” Keith grinned into the crook of his neck, moving to nuzzle into his shoulder.

“That’s three hours too long. I missed you.”

Lance turned to face Keith, Keith with his ridiculously cute pony tail, tuffs of hair falling and framing his face, with his shirt half open and pants rolled up to meet Lance in the water, not caring if the hem was getting wet with rolling waves.

“You’re a sap” Keith rolled his eyes, tugging Lance closer nonetheless.

“But I’m your sap, no one else’s” Lance retorted, leaning forward to knock his forehead with Keith’s.

“Will Hunk be mad we’re not at the party right now?”

Lance snorted.

“Hunk is the softest drunk you’ve ever seen. He might cry a little when we go back and say he loves us, but that’s pretty much it.”

Keith hummed, tilting his chin to meet Lance’s lips.

“Good. Because I’ve missed you too.”

********

[ikigaiday]

Your Deep Rest

Pairing: Klance

Warnings: Death and lots of edge. 

Word count: 1,798

Summary: Sometimes you realize you don’t know a person that well. Sometimes you can’t remember much about them no matter how many memories you made with them. Sometimes you come up with questions when its too late.  Sometimes you find out the most about a person after they are gone.

     It was a bright day. It wasn’t too hot out, but it wasn’t exactly “cool” either. It was a “perfect day to spend at the beach” as Lance would have said. He would beam with excitement, his eyes lighting up like the sun, and Keith would scowl and say that he “probably had something better to do.” But he would go anyways. Their group would play volleyball in the hot sand, and they would have chicken fights in the water. Laughter rang inside Keith’s head, the ghost of memory of the happy days he called in sick at work to hang out with his best friends.  He had called in sick today, too, but for different reasons.

    He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ward off the tears building in his eyes. A lump had grown in his throat, making it in incredibly hard to breathe. He felt Shiro’s arm wrap over his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug as Kieth inhaled a sharp breath through his nose. After a minute he opened his eyes again. The sun shone into the church, but the light was hazy to Keith. He dared to glance across the room, but he instantly recognized this to be a mistake. He was only met with grieving, tear stained faces. Pidge stood to his side, her face angled to the floor as her shoulders shook with her silent sobs. “It’s like I’ve lost my brother all over again.” She had whispered to Keith soon after they found out.

    Hunk was currently walking up to the podium, his face blank. He gingerly grasped the mic, his hands trembling as he leaned down a bit to speak into it. “Um, hello.” His voice was soft but broken. “My name is Hunk and-- and Lance was,” his voice cracked with the strain being put on it, “Lance McClain was my best-- my best friend.” His stiff expression split apart as he began to sob. “He was always there for me.. He was always there for everyone. He cared about everyone so much, I… I guess he forgot to care for himself along the way. I just--” he lowered his head, trying to collect himself as he moved his hands to cover his eyes. “I miss you buddy..” he whispered as if Lance was standing right there. But he wasn’t. Lance was in a wooden box. His eyes would never open again, his lips would never twist into one of those goofy grins they all loved. “I’m sorry,  I had so much I wanted to say but--” Hunk wiped at his eyes, “I don’t think I could ever say enough…” Hunk took a deep breath and stepped away from the mic, slowly walking back to his spot next to Lance’s mother who instantly wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder.

    Even though it hurt, Keith couldn’t pull his eyes away from the scene.

    After the funeral everyone slowly milled out. Keith stayed seated, Shiro even slowly getting up to let him sit with himself until he was ready to go to the burial. Lance’s family hung around for almost as long as Keith did, but they left the blank male alone as they grieved in front of the deceased McClain’s coffin together. They filed out for a bit, going to make sure the hearse was there and in order before they carried the coffin out. Keith took this short moment to stand up and drag himself over to the coffin. It was an open casket, allowing Keith to see a bust shot of his once rival. Even in death he looked gorgeous, but Keith couldn’t will himself to believe it was actually Lance. Lance was so full of life, this shell couldn’t be Lance. Keith found himself gingerly reaching down, brushing a strand of hair off of the brunette’s cheek. His skin almost seemed drained of color, even if he still had a tan tone to him. The suit was a dark contrast against his form, the blue flowers in his pocket the only real splash of color added to the picture. Keith stood there, his hands resting on the edge of the casket. There he started to realize he hadn’t even really known Lance McClain.

    Days passed and Keith was losing more and more sleep every night. It didn’t feel real. He kept waiting for his phone to ring, to hear Lance’s annoyingly attractive voice on the other end, telling him to get his lazy ass up because the group was going to go see a movie. Then they would send a few insults back and forth as Keith struggled to pull one of his multiple pairs of black skinny jeans on. “By the way, can we take your car?” Keith covered his face with his hands, willing himself to pass out.

    “We always take my car. Give me some money for gas this time.”

   “I’ll make sure to pay you back at my grave.” Lance would laugh at his own joke and Keith would crack a smile.

   “Whatever McClain.”

    Keith turned his head, looking at the small stack of cash faintly outlined by moonlight on his nightstand. “All of the gas money I owe you.” Lance had smirked as he handed it to him, leaning against the door frame. Maybe if Keith had questioned him, maybe if Keith would have tried to look into his eyes, he could’ve seen it coming. He slowly sat up, deciding he had to do something about his racing mind.

       It was one in the morning. He shouldn’t be here, but he couldn’t stop himself from knocking on the door. The street was quiet and so was the house he was currently at. He was about to turn around and walk away, but the porch light flashed on. He looked up at it in surprise, then turned his surprise to the opening door. He was now staring into the tired eyes of Lance’s mother, swallowing hard to try and hide his nerves. “Sorry.” He muttered softly, not knowing what else to say.

    “It’s fine. I was awake anyways…” She stepped back, motioning the dark haired male inside. “Would you like a cup of coffee…?”

    “Sure…”

    Keith spent many nights over at the McClain’s. The first few days he didn’t say much, and neither did she, but slowly Keith opened up. He told her how he recently came to the conclusion he hadn’t known Lance as well as he thought. How he felt guilty for never actually taking the time to ask him questions about his interests and life before it was too late. Lance’s mother didn’t reply for a while and Keith started to fear he had upset her, but slowly she stood up.

      “I think you should have something.” She started out of the kitchen and after a moment Keith stood and followed after her. Up the stairs and taking a turn to the left, he found himself standing behind the exhausted woman as she pushed a white door open. When she flicked on the lights Keith realized it was most likely Lance’s room. “He hadn’t moved out yet.. He said rooming here was much more comfortable and cheaper than staying at the dorms.” She spoke softly, slowly walking into the room. Keith stood frozen in the door frame, peering inside. The walls were a light purple and the comforter on his bed had multiple different shades of blue. His nightstand and dresser where dark blue with white knobs, and he had a small white desk pressed in the corner. Multiple pictures were scattered across the walls, fairy lights draped over them.       It looked cozy, it looked like Lane.  

   Lance’s mother opened the bottom drawer of the nightstand, pulling out multiple composition books. “These are his journals.” She ran her hand across the surface of the one on top. She gingerly placed them down on the bed then passed Keith, leaving him alone.

    At first Keith felt weird about reading something so personal about Lance, but after he read half of the first journal he found himself needing them more and more. He even ended up spending the night there after two weeks. He would pass out reading the books, leaving quietly in the morning before Lance’s parents got up. After three weeks Keith found Lance’s blue iPod and charged it up, listening to his playlist as he read.

    He learned all sort of things about Lance. How he also looked up to Shiro, how Shiro was his reason to want to become an astronaut. How he was envious of Keith but still admired him. He wrote down memories of his childhood he randomly recalled and wanted to put down on paper. Baking with Hunk, and having “spa days” with Pidge to just hang out in one of their bedrooms and paint each others nails with face masks on. He wrote about laying on top of his roof, staring up at the stars. He wrote about the days they had all spent together, about his favorite moments or the girl he thought was cute. Keith learned Lance had never had a proper girlfriend outside of the one he had in third grade, he learned that he loved dogs and spent many volunteer hours at a shelter. He also found out how much Lance doubted himself, how much he compared himself to other people. About how some nights Lance cried himself to sleep because he didn’t think he could “do it anymore”. He was always so strong around his friends, always so confident. It always seemed like he thought he could conquer the world, and Keith always secretly believed he could, too. Keith could hardly stop reading the journals, not even to eat. Even when he wasn’t reading the journals he couldn’t stop thinking about them, he couldn’t stop thinking about Lance.

      Though, deep down, he knew that no matter how many of the journals he read,or  how many times he read them, he couldn’t bring him back. Lance was never coming back.

     He was four journals in when he coughed up the first few flower petals onto one of the pages.  Fear overtook him in that moment and his chest squeezed painfully. He panicked and coughed up even more flower petals, their bright colors becoming blurry against the dark carpet as tears welled up in Keith’s eyes. He cried, the horrible truth seeping into his mind. Lance McClain had been dead for over a month, and Keith was reading his journals to try and to get to know him. Now more than ever he regretted not getting to know him while he was alive. Why? Well the flower petals he was still coughing up made it pretty evident. 

                          He had fallen in love with Lance McClain.

[hulksmashin-bannerpackin]

Green Juice

Pairing: Bruce Banner X Reader

Summary: With the Hulk under control and the government pardoning Bruce Banner under provision of working with the Avengers, Bruce finally feels safe enough to live a relatively normal life. He even steps into the dating world but what happens when he looses control in front of Reader’s 4 year old son?

It started off small. Baby steps. Bruce needed to readjust to having a normal life. Going out more for example Tony had suggested going out for tea at a shop instead of at home. Small things… He could do small things. That was the plan, atleast until his plan was halted and completely derailed of its tracks.

He was currently sitting with Tony in a corner booth in a tea and cake shop, trying to “adjust” to being social as Tony put it when Bruce saw the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. She was currently helping an old woman pick up the contents of her purse that had fallen and made a clanging noise which had made Bruce look up in the first place.

Her voice was sweet and genuine and Bruce couldn’t help but stare at her. Tony noticed Bruce’s attention was taken elsewhere and followed his gaze. He smirked when he saw the woman Bruce was staring at and Bruce’s expression. This was the first time he had seen Bruce interested in a girl so his only thought was ‘I’m gonna get that for you’ as he quickly stood and followed her before she left the store.

Bruce’s eyes widened at Tony’s sudden movement.

“Tony what are you doing?” Bruce knitted his brows together in confusion when Tony only waved his hand dismissively at him.

“T-Tony?!”

Once more Tony ignored him and walked up to the woman.

“Hello!”

“Oh!” The woman gave a nervous jolt at the sudden approach. “H-hello.” She stuttered out nervously. Tony raised his hand and the woman shook it. “Tony Stark. Nice to meet you.”

“My name is Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you too.” She smiled awkwardly at him and Tony grinned. This woman seemed perfect for Bruce! Tony was honestly surprised Bruce had such a good eye.

“Are you single?”

Y/N’s eyes screwed in confusion at the intrusive question and Bruce in the background slapped his palm into his head. What was Tony doing?!

“I, uh, yes I-I am single but-”

“Great!” He draped an arm around her shoulder and walked her towards his booth. “I’d like you to meet my pal Bruce! And wow what a coincidence he’s single too! Look at this nerdy hunk of man! Don’t you want to get to know him? Sure you do!” Tony continued his speech delicately pushing her towards him, Bruce was awkwardly blushing and wanting to be looking anyway but at them. He was going to kill Tony when they got home!

“Bruce this is Y/N. Anyway Bruce here was too shy to ask you out so how about you crazy kids get to know eachother.” Tony finished off his charade with a wink and quickly made himself scarce.

The two were left in silence as they awkwardly stared at eachother not sure how to initiate conversation.

“I am so sorry!” Bruce mustered up the courage to say, his cheeks still dusted pink and his hand covering his face. Could a person die of embarrassment? Bruce was starting to think so.

Y/N inhaled deeply to calm herself before letting out a small giggle, which only served to make Bruce more nervous. “Well that’s certainly one way to meet someone.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she pulled a small notepad and pen out of her handbag.

“I have to pick up my son from daycare but here’s my number if you still want to call me sometime for a date. I don’t normally do this but your friend is very charismatic.”

She turned to see Tony very obviously attempting to secretly watch them. “And… You’re pretty cute.” She smiled shyly at bruce, tearing the page from the pad and sliding it onto the table, trying to look confident despite her own nervous blush and quickly shuffled out of the store. Bruce looked at the slip of paper dumbfounded like the digits were a complex code he needed to decipher.

Did… Did that just happen? Did he just get a date?

——————–

And that was how Bruce met and started dating Y/N, they eventually grew into having a much more serious relationship.

It even got to the point where he met her young son Nicky and soon Bruce had integrated himself into their small family unit. Bruce almost transformed then and there when Y/N confided in him that her ex boyfriend left her as soon as he found out she was pregnant and was keeping it. He didn’t know how anyone could be stupid enough to leave someone like Y/N. Bruce was pretty sure he loved Y/N. He already loved Nicky like his own and Nicky might as well have been his own son at this point since he couldn’t have his own children anyway. Even though he’d been with them a short time Bruce just couldn’t really imagine his life without them anymore.

“Juice!!!!” Nicky screamed as he scurried to the door holding up his hands, for whatever reason Nicky had decided Bruce’s name was Juice, and Bruce being the sweet man he was just rolled with it.

“Hey buddy!”

Bruce bent down and picked up the small boy and lifted him into the air. “Do you wanna see my drawing!?”

“Yeah of course!” Bruce said in an overly excited voice to match the child’s enthusiasm.

He put Nicky down and he ran away to get his picture as Y/N greeted Bruce, closing the door as he stepped over a few stuffed toys and trucks to enter the room. He sat on the couch as Nicky came and dumped a piece of paper onto Bruce’s lap before climbing onto the couch himself.

“This is me and this is Mama and this is Juice!” Nicky explained pointing to each of the coloured figures.

“Wow you drew that all by yourself?”

“Yes!”

Y/N watched them both with a smile before she picked up Nicky, causing the child to squeal.

“Time for your nap baby.”

“Nooooooooo I wanna play with Juice!”

“Bruce will still be here when you wake up.”

Nicky pouted as he waved goodbye at Bruce, who returned the gesture before picking up the remote and flicking through channels to find something that wasn’t aimed at under 5s knowing that it would take atleast 20 minutes to put Nicky to sleep.

Y/N appeared from the room 37 minutes later and sat down beside Bruce smiling. “Sorry, he was a little fussy today.”

She let out a small gasp as Bruce circled his arms around her waist and pulled her into him. “I missed you.” He mumbled against her lips before kissing her. She let out a sigh as Bruce lightly pushed her to lean against the arm of the couch and deepened the kiss. “You saw me yesterday.” She managed to say between kisses as she slid her hands up Bruce’s neck and into his chocolate curls.

“I still missed you.” He breathed as he laid a trail of kisses down her neck, her mouth made an O shape as she let out a small moan and closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Bruce’s hand slowly but surely made its way under her shirt, his hand glided over her smooth skin and he traced along the curve of her bra and-

“MAAAAAMAAAAAAA!!!!!”

Y/N snapped out of her blissed out state. “Sorry.” She gave a small shrug and apologetic look and quickly removed herself from Bruce to go to her son. Bruce sighed in defeat before he took a moment to calm down and follow her into his bedroom.

He saw her holding him in her arms and rocking back and fourth as she tried to soothe him. Bruce watched from behind frowning and feeling helpless. Y/N was soon able to calm him down enough to gentle sobs but he refused to go back down to finish his nap. At this point she had resorted to bribery, trying to lull him back with promises of sweet things and fun.

“Ca-can Juice come to parents day?” Nicky sniffed, looking at Bruce from his place in her arms. Y/N bit her lip and frowned. “Baby I’m sure Bruce has other things to do then to come to-” She couldn’t finish her sentence as Nicky’s wailing started up again at full volume causing Y/N to try to soothe and hush him once more.

Bruce stepped forward and gently patted Nicky’s head. “Of course I’ll come to parents day.”

This caused Nicky to stop crying almost immediately and blink up at Bruce with large hopeful eyes.

“R-really?”

“Yeah but you have to go to back to sleep right now.”

Nicky’s eyes widened as he started wiggling, wanting to be put back down to bed. Y/N had no objections as she tucked him back in, sang him a lullaby and quietly walked out with Bruce.

“You don’t really have to go to parents day Bruce.” She looked at him with a soft sympathetic smile but Bruce only shook his head.

“I want to go.”

This caused Y/N to smile wider and place her hands on his shoulders as she pulled him in for another kiss, which Bruce was more then happy to oblige too, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her back to the couch.

———————

A few days later Bruce met up with Y/N and Nicky. He looked at Nicky with an eyebrow raised and then up at Y/N.

“He wanted to be a princess.” Y/N said smiling down at her son who was wearing a yellow princess dress and fiddling with the plastic tiara on his head to make it sit just right. She narrowed her eyes just the slightest at Bruce, warning him with her eyes that if he said anything about how it was strange, she’d immediately pounce to defend her sons dress choices.

Bruce looked down at Nicky and smiled as he bent down to his eye level.

“Well every princess needs a noble steed right?”

Nicky’s eyes lit up and he squealed in delight as Bruce hoisted Nicky up onto his shoulders. Nicky immediately clutched fistfuls of Bruce’s curly hair and yanked hard.

“Yaaaay giddy up horsey!”

“Baby be careful!” Y/N bit back a laugh as she watched Bruce’s face contort in mild pain at the treatment his hair was receiving.

“It’s okay Y/N he’s fine.” Bruce said smiling at her, she could tell the way that his head was moving that Nicky was tugging hard enough to cause discomfort and her heart melted at the kind act and acceptance towards her son. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“You’re the sweetest.”

Bruce grinned proudly, about to respond before Nicky screamed “Faster horsey!” with another yank to Bruce’s hair.

As they arrived at the daycare Bruce paused at the sign in sheet, gripping the pen tight enough to create an indent in the paper. Y/N noticed and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright Bruce?” She whispered, concern showing in her eyes.

“I’m fine.” Bruce smiled and signed his name. His real name. And he was fine. He was safe. He was able to write his name without any negative repercussions.

Everything WAS fine, until out of nowhere an SUV came crashing through the wall, bringing with it the protective childproof gate. The sudden shock and well of fear when he heard Y/N scream in pain had made Bruce transform almost instantaneously. Y/N was caught under a roof beam after pushing her son out of the way for safety. He stood up, wobbling a bit before seeing the Hulk and started walking towards him.

“NICK ISAAC L/N!” Y/N screamed, fear in her eyes as Nicky stopped where he stood, looking back at his mother knowing when his full name is used it meant he was in trouble.

“Come here now!” Her voice was stern and harsh despite the tremble of fear in it. She didn’t want to hurt Bruce by showing she was afraid of the Hulk but her motherly instincts kicked into high gear and she needed to get her son to safety. She continued to struggle against the beam she was under to try to free herself. Nicky looked between Y/N and the Hulk who gazed back at the small boy, watching him carefully.

Nicky continued to toddle forward ignoring his mothers plea and stopped in front of the Hulk. He raised his arms and made grabby hands towards the enormous green behemoth.

“Green Juice!!!!”

Y/N’s heart was beating so quickly she could feel it pulsing in her eardrums. She prayed to every single God she could think of to keep her son safe as she watched Hulk reach out to the small boy and pick him up gently. Nicky giggled in delight at the sudden rush of air as he was lifted high off the ground.

“Mama!” He then pointed towards Y/N and lightly slapped Hulk’s arm indicating he wanted to go to her. The Hulk carefully stepped towards Y/N and lifted the beam off her with one hand. She scrambled out from the rubble and to her feet, ignoring any pain she felt she quickly and carefully plucked Nicky from the Hulk’s grasp and held him close to her, pressing kisses to his chubby cheeks.

She looked up at Hulk and smiled, feeling less fear after having her son safely in her arms.

“Thank you.”

Hulk snorted and as gently as he could (though it was still forceful) patted her on the head. He moved to push the crashed gate and car out of the wall, pulling the unconscious man behind the wheel free as well and laying him down. Hulk then saved the other workers and parents who had been trapped under pieces of roof or crushed wall like Y/N had been. Suddenly loud sirens cut through the air overpowering the sound of the various children’s cries and Hulk snapped his head away. They were ambulances mostly but Hulk still had the instinct to leave, so he jumped away into the distance.

Y/N finally collapsed onto her knees, unable to ignore the throbbing of her ribs anymore.

———————–

When Bruce woke up he felt disoriented as he usually does when he comes back to himself but quickly snapped out of it when he remembered what had happened. He shot up and looked around, a deep biting fear clenching his heart. If he hurt Y/N or Nicky or anyone at that daycare he would never forgive himself.

“Hey calm down!”

Bruce had recognised the voice of Tony and looked his way. “Everything is okay Big Guy, you did good.”

Bruce looked around realising he was in the tower’s med bay just as he was about to speak he was interrupted by a familiar squeal of delight.

“Juice!!!”

“Nicky?”

He saw the small boy who had currently been laying on the floor drawing hop to his feet and wave a piece of paper. Tony reached down and picked up Nicky, placing him on the bed Bruce was on.

“Juice! Look! I drawed Green Juice saving Mama for you!” He shoved the paper into Bruce’s face, Bruce took it and pulled it away so he could see it properly. “That’s-that’s great buddy.” He tried to sound happy at the green squiggle saving the stick figure in a dress but he could only think about Y/N.

“Tony what happened?” Bruce pleaded, begging Tony to tell him that she was alright. “Why is Nicky here? Where is Y/N?”

“She’s fine Bruce. She’s at hospital with a couple cracked ribs. The guy in the SUV was drunk and is dealing with the cops. You were down as Y/N’s emergency contact and since you were green mean and otherwise unavailable I took it upon myself to take care of the little tyke.” Tony explained, raising a hand to his chest and praising himself.

Bruce felt a wave of relief crash over him knowing she was okay, well mostly okay.

“Juiiice can we see Mama now?” Nicky’s eyes started to water, being away from his mother for too long now. Bruce picked Nicky up and he clung tightly to Bruce’s neck as he stood.

“Yeah we are buddy, and when I see her I’m never going to let her out of my sight again.”

[emmettspeakz]

Klance with the classic fake date?

Warnings: makeout session but not too detailedThanks to @simon-basil for the suggestion of where to go with this.

Anyway, enjoy anon

It was lunchtime and Keith, Hunk, Pidge, Lance, Eleanor, and Michelle grabbed a picnic table outside. They were all friends since middle school and all of them were planning to try to get into the space program. Eleanor was short with dark brown hair down to her collar bone and eyes to match, with three freckles on each cheek. Michelle was much taller, blonde hair and blue eyed, with "hipster glasses" that framed her face well. Trees sat in front of them, school behind them, a soft, pleasant breeze blowing the hair from all their faces. It was still early fall in their junior year of high school, the leaves on the trees only just starting to change colors. Footsteps sounded behind them from a bit far off."Keith, your 12 o'clock is coming." Pidge warned. Keith visibly tensed. That was a code word for the girl who always bothered the group at lunch, mostly because of Keith. She was--well "in love" was the wrong term. More like "enamored" with Keith. The girl was kind, but just very stalkerish and creepy. She had memorized Keith's entire class schedule and tried to get all her classes switched to be in his every class. She waited for him outside of his classes and was late to hers just to make sure he got to his alright. She had followed him after 4th period once and now she knew where he sat every day during lunch. Keith had had enough one day and told her he didn't feel the same way she did but she wouldn't take no for an answer. He'd tried everything to get her to leave him alone, but she didn't get it. He was getting desperate. "Heyyyy Keith!" The girl's voice sounded cheerful behind him as Keith shoved his salami sandwich in his mouth, slightly hoping it'd choke him. "Hi Hillary." Keith mumbled around his food. Hunk flashed him a sympathetic look and Keith acknowledged it with a quick smile."I got you something." She dangled a box in her small hand over his head. "Oh what could it be?" Keith asked swallowing his food down. As if he didn't already know. She had always given him the same thing.He took the small box from her and opened it. Inside was yet another pair of leather gloves like the ones he always wore. He had never used another pair in his life as the ones he wore were the only remaining reminder of his mother, and he refused to use any of the gloves Hilary had given her. They all looked the same, but somehow she'd know if he was wearing hers. "Do you like them?" She squeaked.Keith replied how he always did when this happened, with complete monotone. "Yeah...totally." Keith had finally had enough of this. He didn't want to tolerate it anymore. This was ridiculous. If the school didn't do something, he had to. "Okay. I'm gonna go eat my lunch, see--""Wait up Hilary." Keith told her. She spun to face him, eager to listen."Look, I've told you a thousand times that I don't like you that way but you just don't get it. So I'm gonna have to come right out and say it: I'm gay. Please leave me alone."Hilary's face was awestruck but she responded the only way she knew how. Angry and distraught."You're not gay! I've seen you! You like girls! If you like boys, if you're really gay, prove it!""I have a boyfriend." Keith replied simply. You have a what now? He asked himself."I don't see him. Where is he?" Hilary retorted. "He's around here somewhere.""You're lying."Keith sighed. "If I prove to you that I have a boyfriend, will you leave me alone for good?"Hilary crossed her arms and glared at him. "Fine." She answered him and stormed off.Keith sighed and sat back down to continue eating. "You're gay Keith wow wouldn't have known." Eleanor said sarcastically. As if his friends hadn't been told of his sexual orientation by now. "Shut up." Keith laughed. "It was the only way to get her off my back.""Well who's your boyfriend?" Michelle asked."I don't have one.""We know you idiot." Pidge retorted. "But who are you gonna get to be your fake boyfriend? Unless you can get a boyfriend by tomorrow somehow."Keith sighed heavily. Who would do that for him? He couldn't ask the football team, or anyone on the tennis team. He was a giant nerd, no one popular would want to pretend to be his boyfriend. Then he remembered Hunk and Lance. "Would either of you guys do that?" Keith inquired of them. Hunk and Lance looked at each other before speaking."Sorry Keith, you know you're my bro but I like girls." Hunk replied. "You know I'd do anything else for you, but I'm not at actor.""I get it." Keith told him. He turned to Lance, who Keith knew was bisexual. Even if lance wasn't into Keith like that, he knew Lance could at least act like he was. "Absolutely not. I'm not gonna kiss you in front of this girl." Lance growled. "You're my friend sure but I'd never do anything like that with you sorry.""Come on Lance!" Eleanor urged him. "It's just for one day. And after tomorrow, Keith will owe you big time." Lance pouted, thinking it over. "Fine, fine. I'll do it. But for one day. That's it. I'm doing it cuz I'm a great friend. And cuz Hilary is fucking annoying to me too." Keith couldn't believe what he was hearing. His face stretched into a wide smile."Thank you Lance. I owe you big time.""Yeah, yeah you do."Secretly Lance had always had a small crush on Keith, but since they were good friends and it wasn't big enough to really have a huge effect on Lance's friendship with Keith, he had chosen to keep it to himself. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he was happy to be dating someone, even if it was pretend. He craved intimacy with people, especially as a part of a couple. He looked nervous as he finished his food. He'd just have to see what happened tomorrow. ***Keith walked the halls that morning, afraid to see Hilary. Just as Hilary approached him, Keith felt a hand intertwine his fingers in theirs. He looked up to see Lance smiling at him broadly. "We gotta get to homeroom babe." He told Keith loudly, obnoxiously loud so Hilary could clearly hear it. She let out a humph and headed off toward her own homeroom. Keith turned to Lance, his face slightly hot with nervousness."Thanks." "No problem." Keith expected Lance to let go when Hilary could no longer see them but he kept holding his hand until they got to homeroom. He didn't seem to care about the looks the people in the hallway gave them. Keith admired him for it and made a mental note to learn a few things from Lance today. They always went to the same homeroom but for some reason never walked there together. It felt nice to change things up. "I'll meet you after 4th period." Lance whispered to Keith as they sat down next to each other. "We'll make it convincing."Keith smiled. Lance knew Hilary was in his class and that she'd come running to Keith after 4th period and lance seemed to intend to be there first. "Got it. Thanks."***After 4th period, Lance met Keith at his locker."You ready?" Lance asked. "For what?""For--"That's when Hilary came walking up. Lance's eyes bulged out of his head in surprise and pulled Keith close to him by his jacket collar into a kiss. Keith's eyes widened but he kissed back as he saw Hilary in the corner of his eye. Lance was surprisingly a good kisser. Keith's first kiss was amazing. Lance and Keith pulled apart, Keith still blushing as Hilary came trotting up to them.Lance crossed his arms and flashed her a smirk."So I hear you've been hitting on my man." Lance said.God, how could he be so damn suave?Hilary looked from lance to Keith and back again. To Keith's surprise, she sighed. "Fine. Guess you're gay. Sorry for all I've put you through, I didn't know.""No hard feelings." Keith heard himself say. As much as he wanted to hold a grudge, there was no need. Hilary forced a smile then walked away. "Lance!" Keith cried, smacking him on the shoulder and facing him. "You fucking saved me dude!"Lance grinned."Glad I could help.""Guess we can stop with this nonsense now huh?"Lance smiled. "Probably good idea to keep it going the rest of the day."Keith smiled back. "I do owe you one. Wanna hang out after school? I'll get you something.""Sure, sounds like a plan."After school lance and Keith went shopping. Lance got a nice fancy outfit out of Keith and Lance bought Keith some nice fancyish chocolates. Then they went back to Keith's to play videos games and lance helped Keith make a quick dinner. Everything was like old times. It'd been a while since they'd hung out just the two of them. It was nice. Soon it got late though. "Aren't your parents supposed to be back already?" Lance inquired. "It's almost 10.""Nah they're doctors remember? They have another 12 hour shift.""Oh okay." "Plus it's the weekend and--what?"Lance was looking at Keith a way he'd never looked at him before."Lance? Are you okay? Are you sick?" Keith asked, suddenly scared. "Should I call an ambulance?"Lance laughed. "I'm fine, you idiot.""Then what--"Lance gave him the look--the unmistakable, questioning if where this was going was okay look. The "I wanna kiss you real bad right now" look that Keith had only seen in movies. "Oh." He said, understanding as lance pressed his lips to his, the way he did at school by his locker, except this time the kiss was more passionate, more needy, more intimate. Dispite himself, Keith groaned loudly as Lance moved to his neck and started sucking. He had never done this before with anyone, his sexual frustration was at an all-time high, and now he had someone to relieve him. He held lance closer into his chest, not wanting lance to leave him for a minute. "Lance." He sighed out, enjoying himself. Lance smirked at him and continued, adding a few teeth. Keith was in ecstasy, calling out lance's name as his pleasure built up. He rubbed his body against lance's wanting to get more intimate but now was not the time. Lance finally left his neck and attacked his mouth with his, kissing him even more passionately, occasionally biting Keith's bottom lip and pulling at it slightly. Keith couldn't get enough of Lance. He'd never experienced anything like this before and he didn't want it to end.Finally, panting, they both broke apart. When his breath was somewhat restored, Lance turned to face Keith."Guess we really are dating now." He teased, leaning over and giving Keith's cheek a kiss. Keith beamed at Lance, his nerves still on fire from his touch. "Guess we are." He replied.

[softjewboy]

Voltron Ballet AU:

Coran: dramatic instructor that treats his students like his own children. They feel so loved. Just a big happy family. Allura: the lead female role. Co- Dancer with the lead male Shiro. The most dynamic duo the studio has seen. People wonder how she is so flawless when she dances Shiro: looks buffy and scary but that melts away as he dances. His true cinnamon soft self comes out when he dances. Has a secret crush on his co dancer Allura Pidge: the technical supervisor. Acts like they are bored behind the their controls for the lights, but secretly wants to be in the front row watching.( during a really intense routine while watching Allura balance on shiros arm (you seen what i'm talking about) they became breathless) Hunk: Makes sure that all the dancers have the correct nutrions they need. He cares so much about them. He also fixes technical problems.( So many shows have been saved because of him). He also gives the dancer emotional support Keith: watching him dance is like watching fire dance. It keeps you watching and the moment you look away it feels wrong and cold. Looks edgy but is actually really soft. His routines are always perfect in practice and everyone hates him for never messing up (except the one time he was doing twirls and happened to catch Lance bending over while stretching. That was the first time he ever fell. Everyone was scared cause his face was red and he couldn't stop coughing) Lance: his dancing is like watching waves being formed. You keep on watching it grow bigger and stronger until it all washes over you, drowning you with amazement. He is always goofing off in practice. Coran started pairing them together for dances because watching them together is like watching the perfect storm. If only they could stop arguing for a minute to actually get any dancing done.