#I still remember catching this post when I was silently searching at the start of my Squeeze hype

[cumonstevie]

Home Sweet Home

Summary: "It's good to be home," you think as you arrive back in Hawkins, Indiana; not only three years older, but also as a mother.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts but not detailed

A/N: guys I'm really excited to post this frfr, I'll edit it later. I think there might be 4 parts to this, but we'll see. Also, this is like, 3.6k words and I tweaked the timeline a bit so don't worry about the logistics fr 😶 I hope you like it!

“God, Nance…” Steve panted as he tried to catch his breath from above you.

The blissful haze suddenly bursts as his words registered in your head and you open your eyes with a frown. “What?”

“Huh?” He doesn’t even realize what he’s said and that upsets you even more.

“Get off me.”

“What?” Steve lifts his head from the crevice of your neck to look at you.

“I said get off of me.”

He’s confused. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I said get off!” You raise your voice, tears already threatening to spill from your eyes.

Still confused, Steve complies and moves beside you on his bed. You immediately sit up with his blanket covering your body as you search for your clothes while he covers himself with a pillow.

“Y/N,” he calls, “Y/N what happened?”

You ignore him and pull your shorts on before searching for the rest of your clothes. Steve hurries and puts his boxers on, carefully walking over to you.

“Did I hurt you?” He slowly and softly touches your shoulder after you had just put your bra back on.

“Don’t touch me!” You whip around to face him and he immediately retreats his hand like you burned him.

“What did I do!?” He raises his voice. “Tell me what I did! I-I thought we were having a good time-”

“Yeah, we were,” you start as you finally tug your shirt on over your head, “until you called me Nancy.”

The color drains from his face once those words leave your mouth and he seems deep in thought, probably trying to recall the moment he called you a different name.

“Y/N I- I don’t- She-”

He’s at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to make this better? He doesn’t even remember calling you Nancy but by the tears silently slipping from your eyes, he knows you’re telling the truth and it crushes him to see you like this.

You and Steve have known each other since sixth grade. The pair of you had to sit next to each other for a semester which brought you two very close. You stayed friends for the remainder of the year and continued to be friends since.

You didn’t start having feelings for Steve until freshman year. It had just stopped raining when the two of you exited the movie theater and on the walk back home, there was a massive puddle blocking your way. You told him you were fine walking through it, he disagreed saying you’d get the bottom of your skirt wet and dirty. You told him that it was fine and that you could just wash it when you got home, he said no and with a blink of an eye he had picked you up, bridal style, walking across the puddle and getting his shoes dirty.

You told him he didn’t have to do that but he just shrugged and continued to carry you. You took this time to study his features and suddenly a strange feeling erupted from the pit of your stomach. When did Steve get so cute? Was he always like this? How did you never notice it before?

He sets you down at your doorstep with a grin and you finally come back to. You thank him, not only for taking you to the movie theater but for carrying you as well. He says it’s no big deal and “what are friends for?”.

For the rest of the night, you replayed that moment in your head.

Sophomore year came around rather quickly and just one month into the school year, Steve was dating a freshman named Nancy Wheeler. She was really sweet and very kind and boy did you envy her. Because she had what you wanted. Steve. As her boyfriend.

They dated for a year and you really got to know her, even befriend her. You also befriended a peculiar boy named Jonathan and an even more peculiar boy named Eddie. Your junior year, to complete your little friend group, you befriended a talkative girl named Robin.

And maybe a couple of middle schoolers. But to be fair, you only became friends with them because two of them were your friends' little siblings.

Steve and Nancy broke up a few days after their one year anniversary. Steve was torn. You were there for him, like always.

Seven months after Steve and Nancy called it quits, you finally decide to tell him that you have feelings for him. You’re extremely nervous. He doesn’t say anything but he does pull you into a kiss which leads to the two of you being intimate which then leads to the moment at hand.

“You’re unbelievable.” You scoff, throwing your bag over your shoulder and shoving past Steve.

“Wait-” He takes your hand in his to stop you but you yank it away.

“No!” You shout, “God, I thought you felt the same way about me! You kissed me!”

“I do feel the same way!” He looks at you with panic-stricken eyes.

“No you don’t!” You take a step away from him. “You’re still hung up over Nancy. I’m so stupid. God, we- we had-” You trail off, pressing the palm of your hand to your head. “Shit. I need to go.”

“Y/N please wait. Let me explain-”

“Just leave me alone, Steve.” You interrupt him. “Please leave me alone.”

He stands at the doorway of his room, defeated, as he watches you walk down the hall and disappear down the stairs. When he hears the front door slam shut he closes his eyes and bangs his fist against the doorframe.

After that day, you did everything to avoid him. You didn’t talk to him in class, you were always one of the first people to leave, you didn’t answer his phone calls, you begged your mom and dad to tell Steve you weren’t home whenever he’d stop by, you even started having lunch in the library with Eddie just to avoid him.

You continued to do all of that for the remainder of the school year and when summer came around, you and your family ended up moving to Michigan. Not because of the Steve situation, your parents didn’t even know what happened between the two of you. The only one who knew was Eddie. Your dad got a job offer and decided to take it. At least avoiding Steve would be way easier now.

You told your friends about the move and although they were sad, they wished you well with whatever came next for you and you did the same for them.

With one last group hug, you bid farewell to your friends and farewell to Hawkins.

-

Starting your senior year of high school being four months pregnant was not ideal. You only found out after the move and when you told your parents they were deeply disappointed. Their 17 year old daughter falling pregnant was not what they had wanted for you and as reluctant as they were when you told them you wanted to keep it, they were supportive. They told you it would be tough but it was a risk you were willing to take.

You blurted it out to Eddie one night when the two of you were speaking on the phone. He was telling you about how Nancy and Jonathan had started dating and how Robin was in band now, also telling you that she looked absolutely ridiculous in her uniform and that he’d mail you photos of her in it so you could laugh as well. He caught you up with the kids drama and made sure to avoid the topic of Steve.

Eddie was telling you about some D&D campaign he created when it slipped.

“All I have to do is tell those little squirts that-”

“I'm pregnant.”

There's a moment of silence before you hear Eddie's voice again. “Nooo... Why would I tell them that?”

“Eds..." You sighed.

“Ace… You're not- Are you serious?”

Ace. A nickname he gifted you when you annihilated him in a game of cards once.

“As a heart attack.”

“Oh my god…” He whispered. “Who knows? Is it… Steve's?”

You shut your eyes and rub your left temple. “Yes, it's his and no one knows but my parents and now, you."

"Y/N/N... holy shit. Are you gonna tell him?"

The thought had crossed your mind on several occasions.

“No.” You reply.

“Y/N-”

“And you're not gonna say anything to anyone, Eddie. I mean it. Not the kids, not Nancy, not Jonathan, not Robin, and especially not Steve, you hear me?"

Eddie let's out a defeated sigh. “Loud and clear.” The two of you are quiet for a few seconds before he talks again. “Can I at least know why you're choosing not to tell him?”

“I just- I don't want to ruin whatever plans he has for the future. He's probably still hung up on Nancy anyway and besides, I doubt we'll ever see each other again.” You spill. “It's better this way.”

“Whatever you say, Ace.” You can tell he's not happy with your answer. “My lips are sealed.”

January 1985 is when you gave birth to a healthy baby girl who you named Penelope.

Penelope Eden Y/L/N.

You had sent pictures of her to Eddie with a note explaining that Eden was close to his name and that’s why you chose it while also saying he would be the best uncle to your little girl. He called you that same day, pretending like he wasn’t crying on the other end as he told you how happy he was.

Two and a half years later, you and your parents move back to Hawkins. You debated on whether or not you were going to stay in Michigan but ultimately decided on following your parents back home. Sure, you made a few friends here and there but nothing would beat your friends back in Hawkins.

Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls when you told him over the phone one night. You promised him the two of you would meet up the minute you were done settling in.

A week after moving back to Hawkins, Eddie came over to your place with a hug for you and about three toys for Penelope. You told him he didn’t have to get her three of them but he shrugged and said he didn’t know which one she would like so he just got them all.

You were about to protest when he held his hand up to your face and said, “Ace, as her favorite uncle, it's my job to get her anything and everything she ever wants.”

For the rest of the time he was there, he bonded with Penelope and the two of you talked about what has been going on for the past 3 years. He told you his band was booking small gigs here and there and you told him you’d go to a few of them when given the chance. Once the catching up died down and it got later in the day, he suggested a reunion with your former friends.

“Come on, Ace, it'll be fun. I’ll invite everyone to my place-” He had gotten an apartment recently. Nothing too big, but just enough for him and his things. “-I won't tell them you're here and when they all show up, BAM! Surprise!”

“Mmm… I don't know, Eds.”

He knows why you’re hesitant.

“Steve won't be there, I promise. He doesn't really hang with us that much anymore. The only one who sees him often is Robin and that's because they work together.” He holds your hand with both of his as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please, Ace? It'll only be me, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Dustin, Max, Lucas, Will, Mike, and El. Just us. They all miss you just as much as I do.”

He continues to beg and you think it over in your head.

“You promise Steve won't be there?”

“I pinky promise.”

“If he is, I’m breaking your guitar.”

“Deal.” He doesn't miss a beat.  “That's how confident I am that he won't be there.”

-

Eddie had picked you and Penelope up a couple of days later and you helped him set up a few things for the little reunion that was about to take place in less than an hour. Eddie made sure to tell them to all arrive at the same time and as confused as they were, they obliged.

Your hands began to get clammy as time got closer and closer to your friends arriving. You didn’t know why you were so nervous to see them. They were your friends for crying out loud!

Maybe it was the fact that in a couple of minutes they’d all be meeting your two-and-a-half-year-old daughter who they had no clue even existed yet, who also just so happens to look identical to your former best friend. Yeah, that’s exactly why you were so nervous.

“Eds, I’m nervous.” You voice to him as you eye the clock on the wall.

“It’ll be okay.” He rubs your shoulders in a soothing manner. “They’re gonna freak when they see you. In a good way, though. Maybe even pass out when they see Pen.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s not helping. I think I’m about to have a heart attack.”

“You’re fine. Relax, everything is going to be alright.”

He helps you regulate your breathing and when he finally has you calmed down, there’s a knock at the door.

“Oh my god.” You panic. There’s another knock on the door.

“Come on, Eddie, open the door! it’s hot as hell out here!” You recognize the voice as Mike’s and you cover your mouth, eyes wide as you look over at Eddie.

“I’m gonna throw up!”

“No you’re not! Not in my living room, at least.” He whisper-yells back to you. “Take Pen, go into my room, and shut the door. I’ll come and get you when everyone is inside.”

You nod, your stomach doing somersaults as you quickly walk over to Penelope and pick her up. As you shut Eddie’s room door, you tell your daughter to be quiet by putting your finger to your lips and going, “shhh.”

She does the same thing back to you, showing you that she understood.

You could hear a couple of voices from outside of the room and you nervously started tapping your foot against the floor as you waited for Eddie to come get you. About a minute goes by when you finally hear him tell everyone he has something to show them.

You hear Max groan and say, “You better not have gathered all of us here just to show us another one of your new guitars.”

He’s offended by the statement and defends himself, making you believe that he has gotten them all together just to show them one of his new instruments before. You stifle a laugh.

Eddie opens the door slowly so as to not scare you and motions behind him. “You ready?”

You take a deep breath and nod. Eddie guides you down the hall and you unintentionally hold onto Penelope a bit tighter.

“Surprise!” Your friend shouts just as you turn the corner into his living room.

Dustin was mid stuffing his face with chips when he saw you. Everyone’s movements were paused, eyes wide as they stared at you.

“Oh my gosh…” Jonathan managed to get out.

“Y/N!” Robin is the first to jump up off her seat and gather you in a hug.

It’s like her actions bursted through everyone's bubbles because one by one they all came up to you with tears threatening to spill.

“It’s been so long!”

“Are you back for good?”

“How have you been?”

“How long are you here for?”

“We missed you!”

“How-”

“Wait!” Robin interrupted, “We’re all glad you’re back but uh, is this your baby sister or…?”

Everyone’s attention is now on Penelope and your heart starts beating faster. She’s oblivious to what’s happening at the moment and is even reaching over towards Dustin’s hair.

You clear your throat. “Guys, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Penelope. Penny, say hi!” you take her tiny hand and wave to your friends as she says a small “hi.”

There’s a beat of silence before they start speaking at once.

“Daughter?!”

“What the f-”

“Watch your mouth, dingus, there’s a baby present.”

“Sorry…”

“I can’t believe you’re a mom.”

“Who’s the dad?”

“Mike! You can’t just ask that!”

“Why not?”

You feel yourself getting overwhelmed the more and more they ask questions. Eddie senses this quiets them down.

“Guys, guys! Let’s all settle down. I’m sure Y/N will answer all your questions in a bit and even so, she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to. Let’s all just appreciate the fact that she’s back, alright?”

Everyone agrees and says sorry. You tell them it’s okay and offer to tell them what they want to know as you move to sit on the couch. Penelope wiggles out of your arms and walks over to Dustin who was sitting on the floor beside you with the rest of the kids.

“Oh,” he says, “hi.”

Penelope grabs a fistful of his hair pulling ever so slightly before letting his curls go and watching them spring back up. This makes her giggle and she does it again.

“Penny, no. We don’t pull people’s hair.” You tell her before fixing your gaze to Dustin. “Sorry Dusty, she likes to play with people’s hair. Especially people with curly hair.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles, “I don’t mind. Here,” he takes his hair and pulls it before letting it go, showing your daughter that he was okay with her doing it again. She giggles and tugs his hair again.

“Okay,” you sigh as you scan over everyone in the room, “What do you want to know?”

-

You had just finished updating them on everything that has happened since you left. You didn’t go into too much detail, just told them that the father of your baby was someone you met when you moved to Michigan and that when he found out you were pregnant, he bailed.

You didn’t mention anything about Steve and to your knowledge, no one even knew that you guys were involved at one point.

They didn’t ask any further questions about Penelope or her father. They either were done asking or they didn’t want to pry any further just yet. Instead, you moved on and told them about your time in Michigan and asked about what they had all been up to over the past 3 years.

Nancy and Jonathan were still together, Robin has a crush on a girl named Vickie and is too chicken-shit to ask her out, Dustin met some girl at a science camp he went to and now they’re dating, Mike and El were still together, same as Max and Lucas, Will was still playing third wheel (poor Will), and you found out that Joyce and Hopper had gotten together which threw you for a loop.

“Wait, wait, wait-” you shake your head, “your mom-” you point a finger between Will and Jonathan, “-is dating Hopper? Jim Hopper, like the guy who never cracks a smile? The guy who doesn’t enjoy like, anything?”

“Yep.”

“That’s the one.”

“Well,” you start, “you find love in mysterious places with mysterious people, I guess. At least they’re happy.”

You turn your attention to your daughter who was in the middle of playing with Max, El, Dustin, and Lucas. They were helping her build a little tower. Well, they were doing most of the work, she was putting blocks on the tops of their heads saying, “stay!”

“Aww I wish I brought my camcorder, they’re so cute.” You pout.

“I brought my camera!” Jonathan says as he pulls it out of his bag, “I could snap a couple of photos for you.”

“Why’d you bring your camera?” Eddie questioned.

“I bring my camera everywhere.”

“Freak.”

“Says the freak.”

You’re glad to see that not much has changed within your friend dynamic.

“I’d love it if you’d take photos of them playing with Penny.” You tell Jonathan. “I’ll even pay you!”

He scoffs as he snaps his first picture. “That’s not necessary Y/N. We’re friends. Plus, I just self-appointed as Penny’s uncle so if you want me to take photos of my niece, I will.”

“Oh, you self-appointed, huh?” You say with an amused smile.

“Yep.”

“Let’s not let things get out of hand,” Eddie interrupted, “I’m still and always will be Pen’s favorite uncle.”

“We’ll see about that.” Dustin’s voice cut through the air.

“Stay outta this, Frodo.”

“Guys,” you interrupt them, “I’m sure she’ll love you all the same. Now-”

You were cut off when you heard the front door open then shut.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice you hadn’t heard in a while dances around the room and you feel ill. “I’m assuming my invite got lost in the mail because I know my friends would never meet up and not tell me, right Eddie?”

He finally comes into view yet he hasn’t seen you and you feel like you’re about to throw up. You hadn’t spoken to him since he shattered your heart that fateful day in his bedroom. He looked older, a bit more mature. His hair was all the same, however. Maybe just a tad bit longer but nonetheless the same.

Your heart is pounding at this point. It feels like it’s about to pop out of your chest. Not a good feeling.

“So,” Steve starts, “what’s going-”

He finally sees you and his words fall off. It looks like he’s about to throw up too.

Eyes wide and jaw slacked, Steve manages to say one thing.

“Y/N…?”

“Aw man…” you hear Eddie murmur.

You inhale deeply and slowly turn your head to the one person who promised you that he wouldn’t be here. Eddie is looking at you, utterly terrified, as he chokes out;

“Please don’t hurt my guitar…”

[tinygrove]

Decent Man Pt.1

The second part

Pairing: Cregan Stark/fem!reader

Author's Note: I've decided to split this into 2 parts just to give myself a chance to work on the ending but I was eager to get something written. This is the first fanfiction I've wrote, or at least posted on this account so I hope it's not too bad.

Summary: You're newly wed to Lord Stark after having only been courted for barely a month. Although the anxieties of having to perform as a 'royal' wife start to eat at you, Cregan proves to be a decent husband.

You must have done it, how else would you be alone in his chambers. Blocking out all the noise and going through the motions would only get you so far. You couldn’t even remember the vows. Lord Stark had arranged for there to be no bedding ceremony, perhaps an act of mercy. You’ve heard some lords complain they simply want their lady wives all to themselves, untouched and unspoiled. You were neither. You weren’t sure if your Lord husband was either. 

You hadn’t learned much about him during your courting, not that it lasted long. Your father practically jumped at the opportunity for a stronger alliance to the most powerful house in the North. It must have appeased Lord Stark as well, seeing how quickly he’d agreed to the marriage, it had barely taken place a fortnight after you’d met. Now though, you were in his room, none to accompany you but your ladies in waiting. A few had come with you from your own keep, or rather your fathers. And one or two had been appointed to you since coming to Winterfell to stay. You could hardly form the words to tell them you could undress yourself. Maybe it was the cloak weighing you down, making it harder to breath the harsh winter air. You let it slip off your shoulders and yet you still feel heavy, a weight in your chest and a hard lump in your throat. 

Hearing the thick wooden door swing open and shut after heavy footfalls and quick scurrying of feet made the pit in your stomach sink even lower. “Are you well?” He asked, definitely due to your silent stewing. The whole night you’ve been lost in your own thoughts. 

“Yes, I am well, thank you.” You force a courteous smile to you face, although more brief and sour than you’d intended. You figure you’ll have to do a lot more of that in the coming years. “You do not look well.” Your not sure he says so in a demeaning way, more so that he’s seen through your flimsy facade. Or maybe he’s focused on the way your hands desperately seek purchase on your gown as your eyes start to brim with tears. You can’t control it when they start to spill. 

“There is no need for us to,” He gestures between you with a sigh, trying to supplement actions for words. “Consummate the marriage tonight, if you do not wish it.” He tries to search your eyes for any sort of answer but you avoid his gaze. “Did you hear-” 

“Let’s just get it over with.” You say, voice low and wavering with all it’s strength to keep it from cracking. Another stray tear falls down your cheek as you reach behind yourself for the laces of your gown but two large hands hold your arms still. 

“You truly think so little of me? That I would– Like I said, there is no need to consummate the marriage tonight.” He brings your arms out from behind your back, holding your chilled hands in his. His fingers and palms are calloused, yet his grip gentle. “I barely had a chance to court you before we wed, perhaps we might come to know each other before; that.” Your eyes flicker down to where his hands encompass yours, and he quickly recedes after catching on but strangely, you find yourself missing his warmth. 

As your eyes find his once more he continues. “I shall have a few ladies in your service prepare a chamber for you. I know you’ve not had space for your things but I assure you they’ve been taken care of. In the mean time though you’ll need to take your rest here.” He turns to make for the door and surprisingly a part of you longs for him to stay. The brief bit of kindness he’s shown to you is more than you can say for those that attended your wedding. Your father truly had not exaggerated the icy attitude of those in the North. Lord Stark however, to see his wintry exterior slowly melt away has made it almost impossible to detest him. “I will see you on the morrow, my lady.” He opens the door and a cold breeze comes over you, yet you don’t shiver, the cold only emboldens you. “Thank you, Lord Stark, for your kindness.” your voice is somewhat steady now, no longer fighting an imminent sob. He nods at your words, “Cregan will do just fine, my lady.” You’re alone now and the chill is gone. All the warmth radiating from the hearth is slowly becoming too much to bear even as it smolders to embers. The absence of your Lord husband leaves you feeling alone now, more than you’ve ever been.

[northwestofinsanity]

I wish there was context for this!

Shout out to the image of "Pikachu Tilbrook" some lovely chap from Facebook posted on my 6th birthday

[p0orbaby]

Growing Pains

summary: who doesn’t like a bit of family drama before dinner?

warnings: none really, just a teen getting a telling off

a/n: for those who wanted more mum alessia, this is for you

word count: 838

-

“Sit down” you say, voice steady but firm in the soft glow of the early evening.

The kitchen is eerily silent, save for the occasional clatter of dishes from dinner prep. Leo, your thirteen-year-old, stands before you with a potent blend of resistance and guilt painted across his face. His tousled hair and stubborn stance scream rebellion. He’s tall for his age, already standing at five foot five. However, he is not as intimidating as he thinks he is.

“Is this about the call from school?” Your wife asks from her spot at the counter, not turning around. Her back radiates calm, though you know she’s smirking into the sink, probably remembering some equally ridiculous thing she did at his age.

“Yes,” you reply, not taking your eyes off Leo. “It seems our dear son thought it would be amusing to call Mrs. Thompson a—what was it, Leo?”

Leo mumbles something unintelligible, staring at the floor as if it holds the secret to escaping this conversation. His toe pushes against the leg of a dining chair, scraping the tile, a small act of defiance.

“Louder,” you instruct, your patience wearing thin.

“A bossy old hag who probably sleeps with a textbook,” he repeats, a little clearer but still sullen and wilted.

Alessia’s laugh slips out before she can catch it, morphing into a cough when you shoot her a look. This is why you’re always ‘Un-Fun Mum.’ Of course, she’d find it hilarious. Classic Leo, the class clown with a streak of righteous anger he unfortunately inherited from you.

“Leonardo,” you start, trying to keep your resolve from dissolving completely, “what were you thinking?”

He shrugs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he’s proud of his cleverness and the fact he made his favourite parent laugh. “She was being unfair,” he says, defensively. “She keeps picking on Etta”

Giulietta, your eleven-year-old daughter, is undoubtedly eavesdropping from her usual spy post at the top of the stairs. Her sweetness contrasts sharply with her brother's budding anarchist tendencies. You can practically see her, a shadow on the landing, ears perked for any mention of her name.

“That doesn't give you the right to insult her,” you say, feeling your frustration bubble up. “You need to find better ways to stand up for your sister”

“Like what?” he snaps back, eyes flashing. “Letting her get away with it?” His arms cross over his chest, a miniature version of Alessia when she (rarely) geared up for a fight on the pitch.

You open your mouth to respond, but Alessia steps in, sensing your irritation about to boil over. “Leo, what your mother is trying to say is that there are better ways to handle these situations,” she says, her tone like butter melting on toast. “You could have come to us, or spoken to the headteacher”

Leo's eyes flick to her, searching for some sign of leniency. The kid knows which parent to work for an angle. “But—“

“No buts,” you cut in, the finality in your voice slamming the door shut on this discussion. “You're grounded. No phone, no games, no friends”

“That's not fair!” he protests, his voice a pitch higher, desperation edging in. His face is red, the first sign that he’s about to cry. Or scream.

“Life's not fair,” you retort, standing your ground like a fortress at the centre of battle. “You'll survive”

There's a moment of tense silence, then Leo spins on his heels and storms upstairs, each stomp a protest echoing off the walls. You hear him muttering under his breath, no doubt something unflattering, possibly inventive. The door to his room slams, a punctuation mark on his outrage.

Alessia crosses the room and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You did the right thing,” she says softly, her touch a balm.

You sigh, leaning into her touch. “I know, but it doesn't make it any easier”

She smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, a gesture that makes you feel like a teenager again. “Parenting never is. But we're in this together, okay?”

You nod, feeling the tension slowly drain from your shoulders like water from a leaky tap. “I know, love.” The smell of the dinner Alessia’s been preparing—garlic, tomatoes, something roasted—wafts through the room, grounding you.

From upstairs, the sound of muffled crying seeps through the ceiling. Leo’s rage, morphing into sorrow. Alessia’s hand slides down your arm, intertwining her fingers with yours.

“We’ll talk to him later,” she whispers. “When he's calmed down”

“Yeah,” you agree, squeezing her hand. “We’ll figure it out”

You both stand there for a moment, listening to the sounds of your home. The hum of the fridge, the distant rush of water from the bathroom where Giulietta is probably hiding out, and the low murmur of Leo's sobs. Parenthood, a constant balance between love and discipline, laughter and tears.

“Come on,” Alessia says finally, giving your hand a gentle tug. “Dinner's almost ready. Let's set the table”

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 2

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You wake up in an unfamiliar place, and instead of things piecing together in your mind, you only become more confused.

TW: Vomiting

Word Count: 1735

A/N: So I got really excited about writing this and finished the second chapter. I'm super excited about this series and thank you to those who already like it!

Emerging from a fitful slumber, you open your eyes slowly. You feel excitement envelope your body. Today is the day you'll be visiting Graceland-

Wait.

Where are you?

Sitting up, you are almost in complete darkness. You look around for any type of light source. There is a very old looking digital alarm clock that has the time 4:17a.m. posted on it. The sun hasn't risen yet. But where are you?

You think the most logical place you could be is a hotel room, because you must've stayed the night at one last night if you were to visit Graceland today, right? Pulling the covers off of you to get out of bed, you pause. Feeling the covers on top of you, they feel nice. Expensive. Much nicer than that of a hotel blanket. Pressing your feet to the floor, you jerk yourself off of the mattress.

You groan as you move, your limbs remarkably stiff. It's as if you've been in bed for days. Feeling your way along the wall, you move your hand around to where you image a light switch might be. After a few moments of blindly searching, you feel one and flip it on.

Immediately the room is filled with light and you have to shield your eyes as you adjust to the brightness. Blinking away your sleep, you look around.

It takes you a moment to really absorb what it is you're seeing. When your eyes adjust, you almost can't believe them.

The room is extravagant. It's beautiful. It's something you would never be able to afford. You try to grasp at your surroundings. Something catches your eye as you look around. Your outfit. It looks like something your grandma would wear. It's a long, pale pink sleeping gown that has replaced your previous t-shirt and jeans. Your confusion starts to turn into fear. You have to start remembering where you are and fast.

You start pacing back and forth, trying to put the pieces together in your head when there's a sudden knock on the door. Your pause as you hold your breath. A second knock comes. Cautiously, you move to open it. When you crack it open, a half asleep but slightly alert man stands on the other side in pajamas. You think you've seen him before, but the pieces still aren't coming together.

"Good, you're awake. Can I came in? I have a few questions."

You stand there silent. Baffled. Afraid. You must look it because the mans face softens slightly from his stern exterior.

"I know you're probably confused. You've been asleep for a few days, it might take a minute to get some memories back. But we need to figure out some things. Could you open the door?"

He seems like he's being honest, and by the stiffness in your limbs, you decide he's telling the truth. Opening the door and making room for him, he slowly walks in through the entryway and motions for you to sit on one of the chairs in the corner of the room and he sits, or falls rather, into the chair next to yours.

He chuckles at your reaction as you give a confused look to his exhaustion.

"I haven't been sleeping well since you've been here. Was worried you were some crazy fan or somethin', had to watch over the boss."

The boss?

You clear your throat as you prepare to speak.

"How long did you say I was here?" Your voice croaks. Your words strained from not drinking water for days.

His ears perk at hearing the state of your voice. He stands up and walks to the side of the bed you were sleeping in, grabbing a full glass of water you hadn't noticed was sitting there.

"Here, have some water. You need it."

As he hands you the glass, you suddenly feel parched. You start gulping the water instantly.

"Easy! You don't wanna get sick. You haven't had anything in four days."

You take his advice as you take one more sip, pulling the glass away from your lips. So you've been here four days. As if reading your mind. he nods.

"And you've been here, asleep, for four days. We were waiting to see if you would wake up today. If you hadn't by the end of the day, we were planning to take you to the hospital."

We?

"Where am I?" You blurt the words, anxiety forming again.

For a moment, he looks at you in shock. Then a questioning look as he leans back in his seat, observing you.

"You don't know where you are? You don't recognize me?" He asks in slight disbelief.

You examine his face. You have seen him before, but where?

"I mean, I'm obviously not who you came here to see, but-"

Who you came here to see?

"Who did I come to see? I don't understand. I don't know where-"

Graceland.

You were coming to see Elvis' home. You look around at the room, the same design as the rest of the house. Then you remember. Snippets of the tour of the house. You passed out after feeling nauseous. It's all starting to make sense now. The one thing you can't seem to piece together, though, is why the staff kept you here. Why didn't they take you to the hospital? And why are you wearing this awful nightgown?

"I'm at Graceland."

After he nods in confirmation, you continue.

"I was on a tour. I was feeling sick, I passed out."

You looked back up at him and he is now the one looking confused. He disguises it to keep you from getting anxious, but you see it anyway.

"That's what we don't understand. None of the boys were giving you a tour. You were just...here. In the living room. How did you get inside?"

Okay, now things were starting to not make sense again. You can tell he's about to ask you another question until you both hear a noise outside the room. Someone else was up, and they were making their way to the room you were in.

"Ah, that's the boss. He'll probably want to talk to you."

Finally, the manager. Now you can get the answers you need. Someone knocks on the door before gently opening it. The man steps inside also in his pajamas and slippers, and you have to grip onto the chair as the color drains from your face.

You Instantly jolt back as if you've seen a ghost, your eyes going wide with disbelief as you hold your breath.

The man that just walked through the door, Elvis Presley, stops moving as he takes in your reaction. You have to remember to breathe as your vision goes blurry, you don't want to pass out again. Then again, maybe you do so you can wake up from the dream.

He looks at you, concerned. Then again you probably look horrified. You are. This is a man that has been dead for almost fifty years, and he's no more than five feet away from you.

No one says a word. The room is tense. It feels as if the two men are waiting for you to react. It feels as though time is suspended. You try to swallow but you can't; your eyes glued to the person in front of you.

"Oh my god," you whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. This can't be real. You must've gone crazy. That would make a lot more sense than Elvis Presley standing in front of you.

Elvis' eyes quickly dart to the man next to you, then back to yours. He's scared. You can see it in his eyes. He smiles gently, worry in his features as you feel the man beside you move to grab something.

"No honey, not God. You certainly are looking at me like you just seen him, though."

You release a breath you didn't realize you've been holding. Your hand muscles are straining from how tightly your gripping the arms of the chairs. You flinch as the man beside you comes closer to you.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt ya. Just brought over a trash can. Looks like you're gonna-"

He isn't able to finish his sentence as you suddenly lurch forward, vomiting immediately. His hand cautiously comes to your back.

"Alright, there. That's good."

Still leaning forward, you close your eyes, your head suddenly pounding again. This isn't real. When you open your eyes and look up, you will be back home. This is just a fever dream.

Looking up, he's still there, curiosity and concern playing on his features. Groaning you hurl again.

"Not the typical reaction," you hear him say, along with a chuckle from the man helping you. You grasp tightly onto the man's arm and feel him stiffen in response.

"Sorry, I just need to make sure I'm not dreaming" you gasp after spitting.

He relaxes slightly. His arm is solid. Warm. Real.

You're awake. And that's terrifying. You trying to even out your breathing to not hyperventilate. You hear an amused laugh coming from the doorway at your words before gentle footsteps approach. Lurching back again, your grip tightens on the man next to you as your eyes widen again. If you feel Elvis Presley close to you, then you know you've gone insane.

"I just wanna help you get to bed. Can I do that?"

He's approaching and you can smell his cologne. He comes even closer and you can feel his body heat. Your head starts spinning again. You cannot pass out.

"Sonny, could you get me a wet towel?" He mumbles as he comes to your side, his arm wrapping around your back and hoisting you up. Well, if you have lost it, at least you get to feel Elvis Presley's arm around you.

Wait, that name.

"Sonny West?"

"Ah, so you do know me," he calls as he goes to leave the room.

Your head is spinning as you nearly collapse, Elvis' grip on you tightening as he nearly carries you to the bed.

"You stay awake now, don't want you sleepin' for another four days, do we? I'll ask Sonny to get some food for ya. Then we're gonna figure out what to do together, alright?"

You only nod as he props you up in bed, and brings the trash can over.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @tantamount-treason @goldobsessionsworld @peaceloveelvis @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @father-of-2cats

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Draco the Vampire is back!

Look, this story is taking a long, crazy journey into the unknown. I have the most amazing beta working on the first part, which is complete (about two chapters) and I have just finished writing the second part (another two chapters) and am now diving into part 3. But I thought you beauties deserved a sneak peak into chapter 2. You've pretty much read all of chapter one if you've been keeping up here but since I have posted, I have edited and added/removed little things. Still, the story isn't lost. My goal is to get it mostly finished by Halloween so I can publish it onto Ao3 but who knows. It could take longer.

...

Granger shifts in her chair to look at me, angling her body toward mine. My hand remains holding hers and when I look back at her, I can feel something warm in her scent.

For some reason, it forces me to think of all the things I’m afraid for her to know.

Monsters do exist. I’m one of them. They are no longer human. No longer alive. But they aren’t quite dead.

All of the things she doesn’t want me to know are fizzing around her head. It’s there, between us, mixing with mine and silently, we accept it all.

She hated me, too. When I was alive and I remembered her, we hated each other.

And I can’t hate her now, even if I tried. I just want her. But that includes her blood. And part of her wants to give it to me.

But we tuck those things away and we smile instead. We hold on a little tighter.

“When I was a little girl,” she says as my thumb glides up and down the row of knuckles on her right hand. “I used to capture little moths or leaf bugs and I would drop them into the web of a hungry spider.”

Granger pauses and stares down at our hands, the way I can’t let go.

“I’d wait for the spider to come out of its little burrow, where it would hide and wait for prey to land. But I always felt bad and so, I’d scramble to get them out of the web before the spider struck. But sometimes,” her hand is so warm, like freshly baked cookies, that I have to lift it up to my nose and smell her skin. She watches me do it. “Sometimes, I was too late or I would just…freeze. I’d have to watch the spider win.”

She shakes her head. I watch the way the past that haunts her vanishes and her eyes get warm again, her lips lifting into another smile. “I don’t know why I did that.”

I don’t know why she told me that, but that night while I was pretending to sleep, her story replayed for me over and over. I pictured a little Granger, sweet and curious, rifling through the garden, searching out her next victim. I pictured her placing a little moth onto the web. And I watch her decide the poor insects fate.

When the spider beats her to the thing, I picture her crying.

Or maybe she smiles.

I don’t know, but something about the story moves me in a way that doesn’t feel real. I’m trying and trying to wrap my head around the moral of her story, the little bits and pieces she withheld, either because she’s ashamed or because she can’t remember. But I wonder. Maybe she sees a connection between me, her and the spider.

Regardless, for some reason, I feel moved. And as the sun starts to break over the horizon, stirring from its slumber, I can’t help noticing that, for the first time since I died, it feels like a new day.

When Theo greets me in the morning, sipping his cup of coffee, his brown hair still disheveled from sleep, I tell him that I want to go outside.

He lowers the mug from his lips and lifts a brow. “What do you want to do out there?”

I want to see if I have the power to save the moth before the spider catches it. But I don’t tell Theo that. Instead, I tell him that "I am tired of being cooped up. I miss the sun, the trees. It’s fall, you know. Just like you."

Theo’s lips lift in a smile that tells me he thinks he can't help but adore me. Still, he agrees and throws a coat over his pajamas and together, we go for a walk.

Last night, it rained. The street is reflecting the gray sky and the trees and their bright yellow leaves. Many of the leaves have fallen off of the branches and they’re all soft and wet. There’s clumps of them pushed to the edges of the sidewalk.

They’re all dead but somehow, they remain vibrant, even sodden and trampled.

“If you didn’t know me,” I start. “And you passed me on the street, would you know I was dead?”

Theo glances over as we keep walking down the wet concrete. “But, you’re not dead.”

“Aren’t I?”

“What dead things do you know have a heart that beats?”

I point to a tree as we pass under it. “Those leaves aren’t dead. Not yet. And they don’t have a heart.”

“The tree is keeping them alive.”

“Does the tree have a heart?”

He purses his lips and stares ahead. There’s a slight mist that has settled over us and the little drops of water cling to the strands of his hair.

“If the tree continues to receive nutrients and sun, then it will keep living.”

“What if I stop drinking blood?” I could fast.

“You’ll likely go insane. But, I don’t think you will die.”

“But you don’t know for certain.”

The cars passing by and our shoes squelching against the wet sidewalk are the only sounds as he considers my question. Finally he sighs and shakes his head. “No, I don’t know for certain.”

We reach the corner. There’s a bakery there, and it’s so bright against all of the gray outside. It reminds me of Granger.

Theo goes inside and buys a dozen macarons and when the cashier puts them in a box, he asks her to tie a pink ribbon around it, like a gift.

“Why did you wrap your pastries?” I ask as we walk back to his townhouse.

“They’re not for me.”

“Potter.” I guess and Theo’s nose crinkles and he says, like a curse,

“Potter.”

And all I can think is,

Granger.

I don’t know if it’s because it feels like a new day or if it’s because of the walk I took with Theo but I’ve decided to let go. That night, just as the sea begins to gobble up the sun, I sneak out of the house through my window on the third floor.

This high up, it’s like watching a television show but on a bigger screen. 

It’s still raining and there are people with umbrellas walking by. Across the street, a couple is arguing. The girl is crying and shaking her head and her boyfriend is reaching out for her, his eyes begging her to forgive him.

But I don’t like dramas.

I scan the street for something amusing. But, all I can see is the sad, tired looks on people coming home from a long day. I see moms who can’t pay the bills or the dads who spend time with their television instead of their kids.

I scale up the side of the building until I’m on the rooftop. It’s slippery because of the rain.

I lift my face up to the sky, soak up the rain and I inhale.

The last time Granger left after visiting, I sat on the roof and watched her walk away. I managed to hold onto her scent as she walked further and further away. I head East, which is the direction she took when she left.

I leap from building to building, and I don’t stop until I catch it.

It’s both dampened and magnified by the rain. Her scent grows stronger and stronger as I veer south. I’m tracking her down by her scent alone. It feels easy, natural. It’s part of my magic. 

Her building is taller than Theo’s but that’s because it has several smaller units built into it.

Granger is somewhere on the fourth floor. Thankfully, each unit has a balcony. So I use them, moving from one and then the other and then the other until I spot her. Between me and her, is a sliding glass door. Between that and her is a small square dining table.

She’s leaning against her kitchen counter and in front of her is a bowl of noodles and an open book. Her hair is piled on top of her head and several pieces are loose and hanging forward as she reads. She’s dressed in a pair of terry cloth shorts the color of bone and a thin shirt that is almost brown and almost gold. It’s short sleeved. I only ever see her in long sleeve shirts.

Her legs and her arms and her neck are bare.

It’s at this moment that I realize I require oxygen to some degree. Because I take a deep breath and slowly blow it out before I lift my hand and knock onto the glass door.

Granger jumps away from her book and her food to spin and finds me standing on her balcony, in the rain.

Her eyes flare wide in shock, but only for a moment. Because, then she’s hurrying over and unlocking the door and when the flimsy piece of glass is out of the way, we stare at each other. I’m staring at her through the rain as it falls on me, between us.

I think if I was stupid enough not to find her beautiful when I was alive, then maybe I deserved to die.

But I ask her, “Am I the spider, the bug or am I you?”

Her head shakes, just a little and she runs her tongue over their lips. “Draco,” she says. “You’re all of them. We all are.”

I accept her answer by stepping into her and taking her face in my wet hands and I crash my mouth into hers.

[teaberrii]

Chapter 5: Secrets Between Us

You've been Cupid for as long as you can remember. You've brought countless soulmates together, yet you've never found love.

When you're assigned to bring two childhood friends back together, it should be simple until you unexpectedly catch feelings for the mysterious and cold Ph.D. student, Dan Heng, the man with a soulmate… the man with answers to your past.

Dan Heng/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

By the time you return to Xianzhou, it's already evening. Walking across campus, you can't stop thinking about what Himeko told you. Regardless, you've made up your mind. You aren't going to shy away, no matter what lies ahead. You've been searching for answers to your past for God knows how long; your efforts will be for nothing if you back out now.

You enter one of the science buildings, where you'll use the walkway on the second floor as a shortcut to the station. You're about to head to the elevator when you see Dan Heng sitting at one of the tables with his laptop open and papers beneath it. His hair looks more tousled than usual, and you can see his concentration starting to wane.

You come up behind him. Then, you lean forward and say, “It’s also important to take breaks.”

Dan Heng turns around, and you stand upright. “...What are you doing here?”

“...Had something I had to do." When you look at the empty seat across from him, he subtly nods for you to sit down. So, as you do, you ask, “Are you working on your research?”

Dan Heng closes his laptop. “...That’s right.” Should you ask if he remembers what happened that night you went for drinks? Then, as if reading your mind, he looks you in the eyes. “I didn’t forget about our conversation the other night.”

“Guess you weren’t as drunk as I thought.”

Then, a ghost of a smile graces his lips. “It’s still my turn.”

“...Fine.” You cross one leg over the other. Then, jokingly, “I guess I have time to humour you.”

“Oh? Is that what it is?” Dan Heng asks with a hint of sarcasm in his tone. “I thought you were making time since you approached me first.”

“I think I like you better when you’re drunk.”

A slight smirk tugs at his lips. “Yet, when I was, you said you liked me better than when I was sober.” He leans slightly forward. “So, which is it, Cupid?”

"Neither," you mutter. Though your face is slightly red, unbeknownst to you.

Dan Heng leans back. “...I’d like to know about the sparkle in your eyes. What is it, exactly?”

Well, Gepard knows, so you don't see why you should hide it from Dan Heng. 

"It's something that happens when I look into someone's desires." You're expecting a confused look, a question, or a sarcastic remark you're messing with him. But his slightly curious look doesn't change. "...I saw your desire to find a cure for The Withering the first day we met."

“...Assuming what you said is true, why did you do that? Look into my desires?”

"One question at a time." Dan Heng frowns slightly, which almost makes you chuckle. After a slight pause, you ask, "...What happened at the hospital?"

“...My professor told me they’ve admitted a patient diagnosed with The Withering. So, I went to see them as it would be good for my research.”

You’re expecting a little more, but when Dan Heng remains silent, you ask, "That's it?"

"Looks like you're just as impatient as I am."

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “Have it your way.” You catch that subtle smile, and you frown.

“My question is the same as before. Why are you interested in my desires?”

“...Because I had to know more about you.” When you see Dan Heng raise a brow, you quickly add, “It’s not what you think it is.”

“I’m not thinking anything.”

“Oh, really?” you deadpan.

Then, he smiles. “Your turn.”

“...Do you know this patient?”

Dan Heng exhales softly. “...I do. But, I can’t tell you who it is.”

It’s not like you really need to know who. At least this explains why he’s so down.

“It must be hard,” you say quietly. “...I’m sorry.”

“...It’s why I have to make progress. I know finding a cure is impossible at this stage. But, I have to narrow the gap.”

You think about telling him about what you can do. Will it help? You think back to when you granted a desire to save another person's life. While it happened, it didn't last long. That person eventually died by other means. Dan Heng will probably find a temporary cure if you grant his wish. But… will that really save that person in the long run?

“...Cupid.” You look up and see Dan Heng looking at you. “Something wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” Then, your tone turns flat. “Let me guess… are you going to ask why I had to know more about you?”

“Close enough. Why me and not Gepard or anyone else?”

“Because I’m here for a job.” Now, you exhale softly. “...But, I can’t tell you what it is.”

“...Only that it involves me?”

You nod. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to murder you.”

“I’d think if you were, you would’ve done so that night.”

“Weelll, I don’t know. Gepard told me you’re into Kendo.” You chuckle. “I might have to be careful of you.”

“...Are you into any sports?”

"I wouldn't call myself athletic, but… I'm not that bad, either. Who knows? Maybe I'll take up Kendo and kick your butt."

A slight smirk tugs at his lips. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Perhaps.”

“I hope you won’t regret it.”

“...Doesn't this mean you need a teacher?”

You blink once. Twice. Is he recommending someone? Or…

“I… suppose.” Then, jokingly, “Don’t tell me you’re helping the enemy.”

“...I can teach you.”

“Now I’m sure you’re out to sabotage me.”

Dan Heng crosses one leg over the other. “You admitted that you’re here because of a job that involves me. Who’s the one that should be nervous?”

“So, you’re planning on keeping an eye on me?”

You catch his small smile. “Make of it as you will.” Then, after a short pause, he asks, “...Do you have any more questions?”

It’s a stretch, but you thought you’d ask. “Do you know someone named Young?”

“No. Why?”

“...Just curious.”

“Is he someone you know?”

“...Good question,” you say quietly. “Anyway, don’t worry about it.” You take out your phone and glance at the time. “It’s getting late. Are you heading home?” When he stays silent, you frown. “Don’t tell me you’re going to stay overnight.”

“I guess Gepard’s been keeping you updated."

"...He's worried about you. When I talked to March the other day, she was also worried. And…" When Dan Heng looks you in the eyes, you look away. "...It is a little worrisome."

“Are you worried?”

“Gosh, I don’t know, Dan Heng. We’re friends, and you’ve been staying overnight at campus with… what? Just a laptop?”

“...I know of a comfortable place to sleep if that’s any reassurance.”

“You know what I mean,” you deadpan. Then, your tone relaxes. “I know you’ve been working on your research, but it’s important to take care of yourself, too.”

Then, your phone buzzes with a message.

Pom: DINNER IS READYY

And then there's a picture of a few dishes on the table… along with Pom, who has his arms spread out and looks proud of his work. Wait a minute. Who's the one taking the photo?

You see Dan Heng take out his phone. Then, he glances at you. “...Looks like Gepard’s with Pom.”

Your phone buzzes again.

Pom: Group dinner date! See if you can get Dan Heng to come over 😀

You show the message to him. “Are you really going to say no to Pom?”

Dan Heng looks at you. “...Guess I don’t have a choice.”

“Good. I don’t know how good his cooking is, so I need someone to potentially suffer with me.”

Dan Heng slips his laptop inside his bag. “Gepard isn’t enough?”

“You’d come looking for him if he went missing,” you joke as you and Dan Heng leave the school building.

“Right. The first person I’d come find is you.”

“Why me?”

“...I’d think I could get more out of you than Pom.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Dan Heng suddenly walks and stops in front of you. You almost bump into him, but then you slowly look up and see him staring at you. Then, he leans down to be on eye level with you.

“Am I?”

He's close enough that you notice a faint scar underneath his eye. But then, you meet his gaze, and you can't look away, and that's when you suddenly his eyes flash a sudden pale green…

“...You can’t be friends with their kind.”

You couldn’t see the person you were talking to, but from the deep voice, you assume it was a man.

“He’s not a bad person,” you said.

“He’s not a person,” the mysterious man spat. “He’s not one of us.”

“But—”

“...I’m doing this for your sake. If they catch you with him, they’ll kill him. Is that what you want?”

“...Hey.” Dan Heng’s calm but slightly worried voice pulls you back. You’re back to looking into his blue eyes. “...You're spacing out again.”

"Sorry. I—"

He puts a hand on your forehead, and your eyes widen slightly. "...You don't have a fever."

"I'm fine. Just fine."

Dan Heng watches you walk past him before following you toward the station. What is it about you that piques his interest? Well, there's the obvious: your mysterious job and the surprising revelation that you can see his desires. Does this mean you can peek into them at any time? Because if that's the case, maybe he needs to be more careful.

By the time you and Dan Heng arrive at the apartment, Pom and Gepard have already started eating. And, to your surprise, there haven’t been any casualties.

"It's really not that bad," Gepard says as you sit next to Pom, and Dan Heng sits across from you.

“Did you two bump into each other or…? How'd you end up at our place?" you ask Gepard.

"We don't have that kind of fate like you and Dan Heng," Pom jokes, and you give him a deadpan look. Before you got on the train, you'd told Pom that you met Dan Heng at campus and you're on your way back.

“Pom wasn’t sure if you’d make it in time for dinner,” Gepard says.

“Oh,” you say, looking at Pom. “You just didn’t want to be alone.”

“Well, I didn’t know if Himeko would keep you! Or if Nanook—”

Your cautious look instantly makes him stop. But you and Pom are already aware of Dan Heng and Gepard’s stares at you.

“Are they friends of yours?” Gepard asks.

You and Pom face forward, and you grab some vegetables for your plate. “Sort… of,” Pom says. Then, he clears his throat. “Nanook’s been chasing after her for ages.”

You almost choke on your water. “That’s not true.”

“Nanook… An interesting name,” Gepard says. Then, he chuckles. “This guy must really like you."

You frown. “Trust me. That’s not the case.”

“So, you aren’t seeing anyone then.”

Everyone turns to Dan Heng.

“...No,” you answer.

Then, Pom curiously looks at Gepard and Dan Heng. “What about you two, hm? You two grew up with March and Stelle, right?”

"Don't tell me you think something is going on?" Gepard asks.

“Well, both of them are so pretty!” Pom admits. “I only met them recently… but they’re also quite nice.”

“You met Stelle?”

So, Pom tells him about his chance to work as a security guard at Stelle's fan meet.

“We’re friends,” Dan Heng says. “That’s it.”

"...Here's a question," you say. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Why do you ask?" Gepard asks.

You shrug. "Just... something to talk about."

“Well, I don’t,” Gepard says. “It’s a nice fantasy, I suppose.”

“I don’t either,” Dan Heng adds. Then, he looks at you. “...Do you?”

If you aren't who you are, you wouldn't believe in soulmates either. But your job is to bring people destined to be with each other together. You'd questioned your role at first. If people are meant to be with each other, wouldn't they eventually meet? But, apparently, that's not the case, according to Himeko, at least. Still, it's not like you stuck around to see how those relationships turned out. Once they're together, you have no reason to stick around.

“I don’t know,” you say honestly.

"...Your nickname is Cupid, and you don't believe in soulmates?"

“My nickname has nothing to do with that,” you say flatly.

Dan Heng puts his chopsticks down. “Why do people call you Cupid?”

"You'll be going over your limit of twenty questions at this rate."

"...It doesn't have to stop at twenty."

Pom looks from Dan Heng to you and back to you. "Should I answer this one for you, Cupid?” You glance at Pom. “It’s because she’s a matchmaker!”

“Oh? Have you matched people before?” Gepard asks. Then, jokingly, “What’s the success rate?”

“100%!”

Gepard looks at you, impressed. “Wow.” Then, he chuckles. “March has been wanting to get back out there. Maybe she should come to see you.”

“...What about Stelle?” you ask.

“I don’t think she’s seeing anyone,” Gepard says. Then, he nudges Dan Heng. “Do you?”

“I don’t know,” Dan Heng says. “...I haven’t talked to her for a while now.”

After dinner, Dan Heng and Gepard offer to help you and Pom clean up. You’re in the kitchen doing the dishes when Dan Heng brings in two more dirty plates. You thought he’d put them on the side and leave, but instead, he puts them in the sink and gently nudges you aside.

“...It’s important to take breaks.” When he looks at you, both of you smile slightly. You’re drying your hands on a towel when Dan Heng says, “...What I told you today… could you keep it a secret?”

Keep what a secret? That’s when it hits you. “You mean… about you knowing the patient at the hospital?”

Dan Heng nods. “...He’s also someone my friends know.”

The thought hits you again. Should you tell him about what you can do? In the end, you say, "...Of course, I'll keep your secret. But in return, there's something I'd like you to do for me."

Dan Heng puts the clean dishes on a rack and turns off the tap. Then, he turns to face you. “I’m listening.”

“You know I’m here because of you. Could you keep that information to yourself? The fewer people know, the better.”

A ghost of a smirk graces his lips. “I see. It’s so no one will suspect you when I disappear.”

“Very funny,” you deadpan. “That’s not going to happen.”

“...When will I find out what you’re here for?”

When you get with Stelle. But instead, you say, “You’ll know.”

“Still going to keep me in the dark, huh?”

“Of course. It wouldn’t be fun otherwise."

“What happens after it’s done?” The question takes you off guard. “...Are you going to leave?”

“That’s usually what happens.” You’re looking away from him now.

“...Would you make an exception?”

The question almost instantly makes you turn back. Eventually, you look at him. "Why do you ask?”

“...I like talking with you.”

You hold his stare."Blunt as always, aren't you?" Dan Heng awkwardly looks away as you say, "Well, I surprisingly enjoy your company, so… I'll think about it."

Dan Heng looks back and sees you smiling mischievously. “...You’re playing with me.”

You laugh. “Aw, come on. It’s better than a no, right?”

Dan Heng leans slightly toward you, so you don’t see his face when he says in a lowered voice, “I’ll turn that into a definite yes.”

“Whatcha talking about in here?”

Dan Heng turns around, and you look past him and see Pom and Gepard at the kitchen doorway with a smile.

“Your face is red,” Pom says.

Everyone turns to you, and you put a hand on your cheek. “No, it’s not.”

Pom smiles. Is he just toying with you, or is your face really red?

“Is there something we weren’t supposed to see?” Gepard asks, and he and Pom smile at each other.

“Or hear?” Pom adds.

Dan Heng walks to the door and looks at Gepard. “We should leave.”

“Already?”

“It’s almost nine,” Dan Heng deadpans.

“Well, we’ll see each other again soon,” Pom says with a little smirk.

“Oh, right. Tomorrow’s the festival,” Gepard says.

“If you’re not busy, why not join us?” Everyone turns to you.

“You know, she’s right! Pom adds. “I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

You give him a deadpan look just as Gepard asks, “Would you mind, Dan Heng?”

“Why would I?”

Gepard chuckles.” Oh, I don’t know…”

You and Pom see Gepard and Dan Heng off at the door. Then, as soon as Pom closes it, he spins around.

“You and Dan Heng are getting along really well. Maybe a little too well.”

“We had a few conversations,” you say, sitting on the couch. “It’s not a big deal.” Then, you sigh. “I… had another vision today.”

Pom sits across from you. “Was it Young?”

“...I don’t know. It was of a man, and I couldn’t see his face. He was telling me I couldn’t be friends with their kind… because they’d kill him. He didn't say who he was referring to."

But you have a hunch.

Pom’s eyes widen. “Kill him? That’s… extreme.”

“...I'm sure he was talking about Young."

“Let me guess… This vision happened when you were talking with Dan Heng?”

You nod. "At campus today.”

“Did Himeko say anything?”

“Only that Young isn’t around anymore. And…”

“And?”

"...I may not like the answers I want to hear."

“...Well, that doesn’t sound ominous at all.” Pom sighs. “...Did you ask Dan Heng about him?”

“He said he doesn’t know who that is.”

Pom leans forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands intertwined with each other. “Here’s a thought… what if Dan Heng is a reincarnation of Young? And… maybe you two are destined to meet!”

“...Why does it sound like he’s—”

“Your soulmate?” Pom interrupts almost too happily.

But, that’s impossible… Right?

◆◆◆

"Do you know someone named Young?"

Dan Heng has been thinking about that question since he started showering. Who's Young? Are you looking for him? If so, what does he have to do with him? Once Dan Heng enters his room, dressed in PJs, and with a towel in his damp hair, he hears his phone buzz.

Stelle: Hey. Miss me? 🙂

Dan Heng sits on his bed. Stelle must be worried… or maybe he wants to ask him if he knows what’s happening with her brother. Whatever it is, she must want someone to talk to.

He types a quick reply, but Stelle’s reply is almost quicker.

Stelle: Can we talk?

“How’ve you been?” Stelle asks as soon as she picks up the call.

Could be better. But instead, Dan Heng asks, "Is everything okay?"

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” Stelle asks with a small smile. “I can’t call to check up on you?”

“...Well, I’m fine.”

“That’s it? Nothing else? We haven’t spoken in almost a year!”

“My life isn’t as exciting as yours,” Dan Heng says. “I saw the trailer for your upcoming movie… It looks good.”

Stelle chuckles. “You’ll watch it, won’t you? You and Gepard?”

“...We will.”

A small pause.

“Truth is… I called you to ask about my brother. You haven’t talked to him?”

Despite knowing everything, Dan Heng still asks, “...Did something happen?”

“Well, he told me that he’s going to study abroad. Next thing I know, he already left.”

“You’re still in touch with him?”

"Yeah. He doesn't respond very often… but I know he's okay."

Dan Heng feels his chest tighten. “...That’s good.”

“He didn’t tell you anything? I mean… I don’t even know where he went!”

“I don’t. But we’ve been in touch.”

Stelle sighs. “What about Gepard?”

“I think he knows as much as us.”

"...I see." Then, she smiles slightly. "Hey, do you know someone named Pom? He said he knew you two."

After talking briefly about Pom, Dan Heng eventually talks about you and how you're his upstairs neighbour.

“A new friend, huh?” Stelle asks. “She must be something if you two manage to become friends.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know you too well, Dan Heng. Since when do you find time to make new friends?" Stelle smiles. “Are you interested in her?”

“...That’s—”

“You hesitated!”

“I didn’t. I—”

Stelle gasps. “You have to introduce her to me now.”

Well, it can’t hurt, right? Dan Heng hopes it'll take her mind off of Caelus, at least.

◆◆◆

“...Can I touch it?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“But—”

"Are all humans this stubborn? Or, is it just you?" Young asked, turning to you with a deadpan look.

“Just one stroke.”

Suddenly, Young stopped and appeared in front of you, and you almost walk into him if he didn’t suddenly grab your wrist.

“...Watch what you say.”

You sighed just as he released you. “Okay, fine. Sorry. I’m just curious,” you said, looking at the horns on your friend’s head. “I thought we’ve known each other long enough that it wouldn’t be awkward.”

“It’s only been three years,” he said, turning around and continuing the trek.

“Only three years? It’s been three years! I guess you still don’t see me as an important friend.”

Young stopped and turned around. “...Really? You aren't important to me? Then, why am I risking my life to be with you right now?”

"Maybe it's 'cause I saved yours that day. If it weren't for me, you would've been poisoned to death."

“I returned the favour. I didn’t let you get caught.”

Young held your stare for a moment before turning around again.

With a small smile, you quickly walked up and nudged him. “One stroke.”

“No.”

Your eyes open, and you sit up in your bed. Another dream. Another puzzle piece. Another question. When you close your eyes, you immediately see Young… and then Dan Heng. You check your phone. Well, it’s only a few more hours before you see Dan Heng for the festival. You roll over and close your eyes. Yet, all you can see is him, and you wake up in frustration.

Why does it seem like it's only a matter of time before this drives you mad?

Chapter 6

Tag list: @suoshiii @lordbugs @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @tanspostsblog @theprinceofkhaos @nqctre @lunavixia

[iviarellereads]

The Dragon Reborn, Chapter 2 - Saidin

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dragon fang icon) In which someone's not doing so well.

PERSPECTIVE: Perrin guides Leya to Moiraine’s rough hut. She goes there immediately, and Perrin moves closer to the cookfires. Min says that Leya is going to die soon. She wishes she saw more happy things, but all happy futures seem to have gone away. There's some discussion, and she remarks that it's odd how Perrin cares so much about the Tuatha'an, they're utterly peaceful but she always sees violence around them.(1)

Loial finally hears them over his focus on his book and asks about the Tuatha'an. Min tells Loial about Leya's arrival, and what she sees. He gives another lecture about ta'veren and how they shape the Pattern around them, and they're privileged to get to stay with three ta'veren even if Mat's in Tar Valon by now. Min grumbles that it's not like she had a choice.

Rand exits Moiraine's hut, and the Shienarans all bow, but he disappears into the woods. Perrin says he'd better go talk to him. Perrin finds Rand in the same spot he's sulked for months, muttering the "twice and twice shall he be marked" part of the Dragon prophecies. Perrin just sits nearby until Rand asks if he thinks Mat's alright. Perrin says they must be in Tar Valon by now, and asks if Rand wishes he were still a sheepherder. Rand says he has a duty, and there's nobody else who can do it. People are declaring for the Dragon, and they're fighting, and searching, and dying, and praying for the man who should be leading them, but here he sits, safe in the mountains, all winter. Moiraine is right that if he joins any one small group, they'll be overrun by Whitecloaks or Domani or Taraboner armies in an instant, but he still feels guilty.(2)

Perrin asks why he argues with Moiraine if he knows she's right, and Rand says he has to do something or he'd explode. Do what? Perrin asks. Rand explains that Moiraine says he'll know what to do next, the Pattern will force him to it, but she never says how he'll know.

Rand gets so angry that the earth starts to quake beneath them, until Perrin snaps him out of it. Perrin's like, wtf, dude? And Rand says sometimes he can't help but to reach for saidin, even as sick as the taint makes him feel. But sometimes he reaches out and it's like catching air... what if that happens during the Last Battle?(3)

Perrin asks him what he did this time, then, and Rand says he didn't mean to do this, he just had to send the power somewhere before it burned him up. Perrin says there are enough people out there trying to kill him without him doing the job for them. Now, come on, it'll be dark soon.

Rand says he wants to be alone, but stops Perrin once more to ask if he dreams when he sleeps. Perrin says he doesn't remember much of what he dreams anymore. Rand says the dreams are always there, and wonders if they sometimes tell true things.(4) Then he falls silent, and Perrin goes back to camp.

=====

(1) I bet he'd say they invite it by being such eager victims, given the chance and the vocabulary to do so. Do you think the narrative agrees? Do YOU agree? (2) I think a certain sense of responsibility toward the people who would declare for you like that is healthy, but I also think overburdening yourself with guilt over other people's actions and choices hurts you both. (3) Is it just me, or does it seem like more is going on with Rand here? It's interesting, because whenever he's been conscious to this point, we've generally only seen him from inside his own head. Now, we can only see what Perrin sees. How much does that affect how we interpret his behaviour? (4) Egwene's dreams seemed to be telling truths. Why not Rand's? Whether or not he's being played by one of the Forsaken again.

[witchfall]

mastermind

[Fallen Hero series. Set post-Retribution, after an innocent MC crash ending. Chargestep; River Basri and Ricardo Ortega. 1236 words.]

Sometimes love is just an admittance of weakness.

Charge.

Meet me alone. 21:00. I have information the Rangers need to know but I trust no one else.

But please note, I have collateral to ensure you follow directions.

Two letters: RB.

Eventide.

—

Eventide waits. 

She thinks of herself as the sliver of the sun right before the sky turns dark and leans into that blue until her thoughts stop seething. She ignores the twisting of her gut and the shaking of her hands. She is the darkening horizon. She is the sign that their day has come to an end.

Remember this, before you shatter everything that came before.

Her phone rings, shrill and treacly. No. It’s River Basri’s phone. After tonight, River Basri may no longer exist, and it is better to start that separation now than tumble into it, smarting from loss. “Sparkles” is calling. The chessboard is set. Will Ortega sit at the table and play?

She flicks open the phone with one hand. “Oh, good,” she says, voice twisted into shadow. “You got my message.”

The staticky pause is heavy enough to weaken her knees.

The fury is deep and dark. “If she’s hurt, I’ll—”

“Save me the bluster, Charge. Meet me as directed and it will be worth your while.”

Eventide hangs up. Her mouth curves into an unseen smile, mirthless. She can still lie bloodlessly under the mask. That’s good to know. Such smiles may be all she has left, after everything is said and done.

Repentance. Stupidity. It’s the same damn thing.

But god. She can’t live with it anymore.

—

The light comes first, of course. White, simmering brightness. A warning shot, clean, right where her head would have been had she not been searching, searching, searching for his particular kind of static — to the point that perhaps lightning to the face would be better than the migraine building behind her eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot!” she screeches. Her helmet turns her every word into the voice of a shattered black mirror. But this gives him pause, she knows it does, from the way the warehouse falls silent, save the crackling from the crate that had been struck.

His silences always weighed heavy.

“Come out,” she snaps, setting a lure. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

He falls for it, as she knew he would. 

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” he growls, stalking in from behind a pillar, face exposed (always, always, why could the man never have settled with a mask) and dark with anger.

She throws her hands up. No weapons. Safe. “Don’t,” is the only word she can say fast enough before he—

He is simply there, when he wasn’t before.

Had she forgotten how fast he could be?

Or—

Unprepared. Not ready. She had not planned for this, had not considered how sharply his fury had been honed in the wake of everything he’d lost. She hadn’t been the only one who survived by cradling the fire of anger until it was hot enough to immolate. 

She should fight back, some part of her screams.

Another agrees that perhaps this is what she deserves.

He seizes her by the hood of her cape. “Give me one reason I don’t end you right now.”

The quip sparkles on her tongue. Why Charge, is this what you’re like when there’s no cameras around? How fun. How interesting. So you were a bully all along.

“Wait,” she sputters. She sees her endless reflection in his black eyes. “Ricardo.”

Has he put it together yet? Is that why his hands loosen on the cape? Is he catching up? He’s always been smart; she’s always lied to herself, thinking she could beat him. It was never beating. It was only ever balance — her plans to his acts. Two halves of one fighter.

Molded from broken shards, now.

Her hands slowly move to her head and…

No. He knows. He knows. The way he stumbles back seconds before the helmet comes fully off, the way his eyes widen like she’d just slapped him, the way his limbs tighten inward like all the blood in his body froze.

She lets the helmet fall from her hands. Lets it bounce on the cement, echoing.

Silence lingers and then…

She can’t help it: “Why can’t you ever follow directions?”

“Are you fucking serious right now, River?”

She squints, not quite sure what to do with that tone.

“Why would you use yourself as collateral? Do you have any idea—”

“It made you come alone, didn’t it?”

His hands run through his hair. She’s surprised it doesn’t stand on end. She can feel his static from here. “I was going to kill you.”

“Maybe you still should.”

“Don’t.” Sharper than any weapon. “Don’t.”

She keeps her mouth shut. She licks her teeth.

His gaze smolders but remains unreadable. “Why.” It isn’t a question. 

“Really?” she snaps back. 

“Why don’t you ever—”

“You know fucking why!” She spits the curse at him. The heaviness of it shunts him to silence. He does. He knows. She’d bared all but the very center of her pain to him, while she was healing from the wreck. But even she is a little afraid of Eventide. 

“This whole time,” he says, voice dangerously quiet. “It’s been you. This whole time.”

“What, did I embarrass you?”

“Don’t pick a fight right now.”

“I have to,” she says. “This is reality, Ricardo. This is who I am. What I’ve been doing. It’s been this.”

And as usual, he never does the expected thing.

His stance relaxes. He tilts his head. He stares at her, moving pieces on his board. “Little River the rabble-rouser.”

“Shut up.”

“It makes sense.”

This is what she had hoped for, despite everything, but still the words make her body fall into a fighting stance. “Does it now.”

“Eventide doesn’t kill.” He lists things off on his fingers. “They threaten. They talk big. They make messes, but always with a story behind them. You beat our asses at the gala but then…” A memory, surfacing. “You ran away from me. After the party a week ago. Refused to engage. I thought that was weird. After your penchant for monologuing.” 

She doesn’t miss the change of pronoun, there.

“And after everything you told us…” His eyes flicker to her arms, protected by armor.

“I wasn’t lying,” she says. Her voice feels too small. “I have information. Hollow Ground. San Francisco. You can arrest me if you want but you know where I’ll go if you do.”

His mouth twists. “There it is.”

And her fury makes its triumphant return.

“Yes, idiot,” she seethes. “I’ve used you and your sympathy. Welcome. I’m sure it must be very painful to hear this, how someone who loves you has a crusade she can’t let go.”

He stares at her openly. She throws herself against the static of his mind, half-hoping she breaks it.

“You couldn’t stop,” he says.

Understanding?

“I thought I would like it.” Sweat slips from her brow. Her scalp is pulled tight by her hair in a bun, worsening her migraine. “I thought I would. I really did. Once upon a time.”

“What changed?”

Something in her crumples, then. Her eyes burn. She bares her teeth. “I think you know.”

“...I found you.”

See. He can play when he wants. “You found me,” she whispers. 

“The diner.”

“Yes.” Her hands fall to her sides. “And everything changed.”

[humanbean145]

Finally posting and not just reblogging today!!! I was working on some writing over March break, it's not fandom specific but I was definitely working on it with a character in mind for inspiration :)

Spent so much into editing that I hope I didn't overdo it or ruin it lol

Anyways here yalls go

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last Dance

“Can I have this dance?”

An arm extended in request

Smile lightheartedly displayed upon his lips,

raising those filled-in cheeks.

My face softens in return

Naturally I’m drawn to him

I’ve only been waiting forever

I take his hand

He leads me into the twirling ensemble,

Men and women in their gowns and suits

Two young souls lost in a classical scene.

Right hand clasped to left hand,

A guiding arm swift around my waist,

My other raising to meet his shoulder.

He sways gently

And I lean into his rhythm.

I remember the first time.

Timid, we’d trip out of tempo

Slipping under a waltz has never felt so effortless.

Shuffling shoes,

Clicking heels,

Murmurs of the crowd

It all blends in, and I lose focus on

Everything

Except the virtuosic Vivaldi,

Melody of our fantasy

And the two of us

Ballet figures, spinning and spinning

Eternally in the music box

The floor clears

Piece ended

A space overcome with silence.

One pair continues on

And the people turn blankly,

Curious

Of the two

Still moving with prominent passion

Within the centre of the room

To the notes in their heads

And the contemporary beating of their hearts

I didn’t desire to miss a moment,

A glance

And when I catch his gaze it’s tender,

Already watching

With a soothing intensity

Something is there

Almost tangible

A fire untamed

While the wind fueling it is

Precise and purposeful

He holds on to me tighter

With greater swings

Our toes float above the surface

Each slide becomes a dive,

And with each step,

He reaches new heights

I follow with desperation.

The ceiling disappears

as we transcend it

And we’re dancing in the stars

The universe is weaving its thread

Heaven and earth puppeteers

They tug at his shoulders,

They jerk at my spine

But I’m still clutching his hands,

And he’s still grasping my heart.

My expression displays my anguish,

It’s hard to cling to

When his is only peace,

Serene, devoid of suffering,

Acceptance

So I breathe

Not daring to look away.

Wordlessly,

With solely our movement and our eyes to speak,

We know.

He’s uncertain,

I know

But I understand,

And he knows

This is our last dance.

I withhold my laments

He deserves to part

With the carving of my smile.

Our waltz slows

Gracefully, we’re revolving

Beneath the glow of the moon.

Has he always looked so beautiful?

Exchanging subtle “love you”s,

We gravitate to one closing kiss

His lips brushed softly, silky, faint,

Like butterfly wings

Just long enough for our breath to entangle

Wisps in the cool air.

A hand comes to cradle my cheek

And I lean into its delicacy, submit

To his comfort

Surrendering to the calm,

To the trust

Soaking in my only solace.

Eyes close in bliss.

I won’t ever forget a moment.

This pull grows lighter

And the warmth of his palm becomes a memory

He’s weightless and lifting

Whereas I fall into consciousness

Eyes flutter open

I find myself beneath the snugness of my sheets

But I’m cold,

Heavy,

And growing up

Is starting to feel just a bit

Lonely,

I’m empty.

Staring through the glass of my window

Up at the moon

My mind a gaping chasm

Searching futilely for significance.

Face turns damp with silent tears

For a reason unknown

I wish I could place what’s missing.

But all I’ve to do,

Is drift back asleep

And face

An absence of dream

(The end)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And there we go! Hope you could make it through the whole thing, was meant to be a poem at first but ~grew~ from there.

Also, apologies for the sad feels. I can't help it. Muahaha.

[konnorhasapen]

WIP Wednesday :D

I almost forgot-

If anybody remembers that snippet I posted about—the one I did not remember writing at all—I kinda kept it going and built around it and now we have a brand new wip :)

——

Chaotic Even in Literary Preferences

   The house was quiet and undisturbed as Sam came through their front door. Their front door. Every time he thought about those little changes he and Darlin' would make in their words as they spoke about their home, Sam could feel his heart flutter in his chest. Toeing off his boots, he took a look around as he always did now that Darlin' lived here.  He never seemed to miss the minuscule trinkets littered about as minimalistic decor; soaked in everything from stray, lone sock that would remain on the floor when the Shifter would mumble something of their feet feeling trapped in prisons of fabric until they'd realize they were missing one from their laundry and search around for it, to the rubber duck that had apparently taken its respectful post inside the fridge.

   Sam still wasn't certain of the story behind it, but thought from time to time about whether or not he should ask. Only to get very slightly distracted by deciding on a name. He'd been pondering on "Bill" for a while, a name that was both simple and strong, but also showed a little more of that playful side of himself that only so many people had the pleasure of seeing.

   He had shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack to his left, catching a glimpse at the coffee table in the livingroom. A curious crease found its way between dark brows as his gaze meandered across the array of books scattered across the tabletop. From Moore's 'Bark' to Tolkien's 'The Fellowship of The Ring,' Jones's 'Howl's Moving Castle' to Christie's 'And Then There Were None.' There was quite the collection strewn about before him—including an extremely well-loved copy of 'The Last Wish,' the first book in Andrzej Sapkowski's book series 'The Witcher.' One of Darlin's favorites, Sam recalled, barely needing the visual proof given the insight he'd received from Asher.  He smiled at the chaos, admiring for a little bit longer just how it wound up there, before he made his way to the kitchen to check the mail.

   Just as always, he plucked an obnoxiously bright colored envelope from the small pile and didn't even need to strain his eyes to find the sender's name, already knowing full well that it was from Angel. Even though he was in the mates group chat, Angel had declared to "spare his old fingies" and send him memes and screenshots from the group chat he was in, by mail. He had to give them credit: it's been months since Angel had taken this task upon themself. It seemed this whole Shaw pack was filled with members whose names could easily be synonyms of the word 'dedication.'

   Had he not been a vampire, Sam never would have heard the near-silent footsteps growing nearer from their bedroom. He'd fully expected to be met with the classic "Howdy, Cowboy," or a "How'd the meetin' at 'Wonder-Ranch' fare today?" What he didn't expect and, frankly, wasn't prepared for, was to watch his Darlin' wander out into the kitchen, grab a quick snack of pretzels, and pivot towards the livingroom to have a seat on their bloodstain-free couch—all with their nose and attention buried between the pages of a book.  For a few minutes, Sam said nothing as he only watched them curl up in their corner with their small bowl of pretzels and those gorgeous eyes completely lost in each word.

   He caught brief sight of the cover wondering if he'd recognize a familiar title or design. He didn't.

   "What'cha got there?" Sam asked softly with a gentle smile tugging at his lips. He chuckled and apologized when he saw them start at his sudden words, like he hadn't been here since they migrated.

   "'Ts a book," they replied, pressing a pretzel to their smirking lips as they waited for his estimated response:

   "Obviously, you wise-ass," Sam smiled a little wider and rolled his red-flecked silver eyes, making his way to join them. "I mean what type of book?"  They exhaled through their nose, peering mischievously over the top of their novel.

   "A hardcover," already knowing the outcome they had instigated, Darlin' preemptively slid their bookmark between the pages and snapped it shut as they used it as a shield from the pillow their mate had grabbed and thrown at them.  They laughed at his reaction—something that still felt a bit foreign to them, but they were starting to get used to feeling so happy they'd let it show.  They readjusted the pillow to use it as a table nestled between their crisscrossed legs, pulling the book away from their face and idly brushing a callused thumb over the lightly textured cover.

   "It's 'I Am The Messenger' by Markus Zusak," Darlin' finally shared. "I wanted to finish reading at least one of the books I forgot I owned before moving in." Sam leaned forward with a chuckle and began straightening up the mess of books, putting them into small stacks.

   "It was nice of David to swing them by," he said. Darlin' had expected their hardass Alpha would come around to check up on them at some point, but with an old box full of books they'd had before everything in their life turned into a shitstorm that hit the fan in a single night? If they had a penny for every time they guessed David would deliver to them a piece of who they were when things were okay, they would have a penny.

   "Yeah..," they trailed off, their mind still humming with memories of Gabe taking them to the book store when they had gotten suspended for defending themself. A bittersweet smile settled on their lips. That was a good day.

   They could just barely still hear his voice saying "go wild, kiddo! You won't find out what genre you like best just standing around,"

   Almost, they could see the image of his goofy grin. The one he gave when he saw a flicker of a sparkle dance through their young eyes. Sam hummed, grasping Darlin's attention once more:

   "Never heard of it," they were thankful he spoke before their thoughts could sour. With a smirk, they replied:

   "Prob'ly 'cause yer too busy readin' li'l diddies like'Heartland'," Darlin mocked, not missing that smile and the eye roll that wasn't far behind as he shook his head.

   "Okay, I'll give it to you," Sam chuckled, "that was a good one." His mate made a motion of tipping their imaginary hat and quirked their brow.

   "Much obliged,"

——

And that's all I've got so far! I hope whoever reads this enjoyed my mess<3 And if you'd like to be put in a tags list for writing and art wips—or just one or the other—let me know^^

I'm not certain if you'd like to be tagged, but I know you seemed to like the original little spat I posted a couple days ago and had said you looked forward to a continuation so uh- @sealriously-sealrious I apologize profusely if you wish to not be tagged ajebfkcbks-

[fitz-avery-vacker]

Waiting Fountain

heyyyy keepblr, i've given into impulsive thoughts and am posting a fic on here! read it if you want to i guess. If you'd rather read it on AO3, here's the link

Waiting Fountain That one day Keefe was left in Atlantis.

Mom looked down at me, gesturing to the fountain while giving me a gentle nudge in the back as she corralled me towards it. “Come on sweetie,” she said. “We’ll only be gone for a little bit.” I nodded, knowing better than to argue as I walked towards the fountain of my own accord. “Okay.” I mumbled, feeling unsure about being left alone by the fountain in a busy city like Atlantis.

But I wouldn’t argue. I would listen, because Mom was being nice about it. She didn’t scream or yell like Dad did. Most of the time. I liked that the most about her. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, as though she was an Empath like Dad was and could tell I was nervous. But she wasn’t, I knew that. But she could still tell I was nervous. I returned the smile, wanting to believe I was brave as she turned her back and walked away, her tall heels clicking against the ground as she rushed to catch up with Dad. Rush isn’t the best term. She looked too elegant to be rushing. But Dad definitely wasn’t waiting for her.

I sat down on the edge of the fountain, watching as they both walked away and faded into the blended crowd. I couldn’t help the frown that formed on my face, though I quickly thought of a joke to cheer myself up and snickered slightly. I felt better as the lump in my chest left me alone.

I was an energetic child, but I wasn’t without my self restraint. Mom and Dad hated it when I tapped my feet against the ground when I was bored, wondering why I wasn’t better controlled. So I’d learned to fidget in other ways. But I liked tapping the most. Mom and Dad weren’t here right now…. So I decided to start tapping my feet. The bundles of crowds didn’t seem to notice the small noise of my feet against the pavement among their own problems.

I waited like I was told, sitting on the edge of the fountain while I waited… and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

The crowds started dwindling little by little, hour by hour.

I started getting worried. Just a little. I wasn’t scared of much. But I can assure you I didn’t necessarily enjoy being left by myself in Atlantis without my home crystal. I thought silently to myself. ‘Mom had only said it was going to be a little while.’ ‘They wouldn’t leave me, right?’

‘They would.’ whispered a tiny voice in the back of my mind. I chose to ignore it, shutting my eyes and forcing the treasonous thoughts of my parents out of my mind.

Seconds melted into minutes that slowly rolled into hours. Endless hours that made my brain scratchy, searching for things to do that wouldn’t draw any attention to my spot. I chose to scratch at the small pale part of skin on my finger. I don’t remember where I got it, but I think it hurt if it left a mark. I asked Mom a little while ago and she said, ‘Why should I remember? If you were being a fool, then you should remember what happened to your finger. Toughen up, sweetie, it’s not that bad.’ I didn’t ask again. She said, ‘It’ll go away soon, just ignore it.’ So I did. I still waited. I started getting tired, but I couldn’t really tell if it was getting dark since the lights in Atlantis are always on. But I wouldn’t sleep. I wouldn’t be able to anyways, not without being at home.

Finally, after a few more hours of waiting, Mom, Dad, and another guy came back. Dad looked annoyed, as if it were an inconvenience to have to come pick me up. But he kept talking with Mystery Dude, and I ignored it. Mom grabbed my hand and led me over to them, where we began going back to get to the surface.

Mom turned to me, her icy blue eyes shining brightly, but some form of… was that pity? I couldn’t tell, I hadn’t manifested yet. But I swear I could feel her remorse. Or pity. Or whatever that gut aching emotion was that made me believe her as she whispered in my ear. Actually, I couldn’t tell if she was whispering or if she was just mouthing the words. She was quiet.

"I’m sorry for forgetting you, Keefe.” she murmured, the wisps of her hair blowing around her face. She tucked a few strands behind her hair with her free hand, cupping my cheek with her other hand. Her hand was warm. It was nice. I leaned into her hand, but she pulled away her hand and I let her. She began walking away again, though grasped my hand and pulled me along with her.

At least she didn’t forget me this time.

[ichoosechoasandbeingqueer]

Hello again✨ how about some hc's about Thorin, Fili and Dwalin reactions with human reader that they like👀 she offered to climb a tree to check that they weren't followed when suddenly a branch breaks and falls into the arms of them princess style. Would also be nice if he tried to fix her hair and/or beard by the twigs without knowing the detail of how important her hair is 👌

First off, Thank you for your ask! Its so cute and I hope my writing does it justice! For anyone else who wants to submit an ask, check out my post here.

Before we get started, I made the reader from a made up town/culture so don't look to hard into it. Simply enjoy!

Warnings: None

Trees and confessions...

The howls were getting closer. Night after night the gluttonous cries of the beasts grew louder and more terrifying for the small group you traveled with, and while the eagles had giving you quite the head start, Azog was quickly catching up. The last two nights you had slept without the light of the fire in fear that your enemies would find you.

As it was, the group was hidden amount a large cluster of trees, hardly a forest but enough to keep you all out of the open and hidden away from unwanted eyes. The only problem? You couldn’t see your enemies either.

“We could always send Bilbo up a tree?” Kili suggested, his hand scratching at the stubble on his chin, “he is the lightest and it would keep our cover,”

While smart, Thorin practically growled at the suggestion. The King’s eyes glanced at the limping hobbit, his battle scars from the attack still apparent on his tiny form.

“Absolutely not!” The King spoke again, “I will not risk Bilbo doing any more damage to his ankle before it is properly healed. We are already traveling slower then we need to be,”

“I could scale it?” you offered, “I’m no hobbit but I’m lighter than any of you. Unless we want to see Gandalf try?”

The wizards sent you look that made the entire group snicker. You simply battered your eyelashes and smile innocently at your old friend.  

“Off you go then, before I change you into a squirrel to help get you there,” he huffed, sparking another round of giggles and a quiet question of ‘can he really do that?’ from Kili.

Silently wondering the same question as the young dwarf, you dropped your coat to the side and pulled yourself on the first branch.

“Remember lass, quietly, less you give us up,” Thorin warned.

You hummed in agreement, reaching for the next branch, and then the branch after that. You were human, not much taller than Kili, but you were quick and agile. You had to be living with a wondering village off to the East of even the Lonely Mountain. Your descendants had once been settled between Erebor and the Iron Hills, forced to start traveling after the dragon descended and took away the towns most stable trading source. Now your people were scattered around Middle Earth in search of stability. A stability that you would provide to them when you helped the Dwarf’s take back their homeland.

You made it to the top of the tree without problem, seeing no sign of your hunters or their beasts they rode on. With your heart light and a smile on your lips you began to make your way back down, freezing at the sound of a cracking branch beneath you. You vaguely heard Thorin call up to you before you fell.

…

Thorin

The Dwarven King was on edge. So much had happened in the last week he could not wrap his head around it. Azog resurfacing. Their descent toward the elves. His growing feeling for a certain human. It was all too much, and he constantly felt himself gripping the hilt of his weapon in an ill attempt to keep himself on guard despite his wondering mind.

When the sound of snapping caught his ears he spun on his heel, his sword drawn and his eyes scanning the surrounding trees. When he caught the sound of your gasp and the small squeak that left your lips however, he called after you in question. The second snap sounded before you had a chance to reply and before he could blink, he raced forward to catch you in his arms, his sword left lying forgotten in the leaf litter.

You body came falling through the trees hard and fast, making his knees shake as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest before you could hit the ground. He stumbled for a moment, kneeling to the ground to sit you in his lap as his wide blue eyes scanned yours for answers to his unspoken questions. You held a few scrapes and cuts from the branches on your way down, but other than that you looked ok, nothing broken or bent, and he let out a breath of relief.

You had your eyes clenched shut and your hands wrapped around your mouth to hold back your scream, and he smiled at you attempt to heed his warning of quiet. It was something he loved about you, your devotion to others, though sometimes it scared him how far you were willing to risk yourself for those you care about. It was a trait that he also shared, and the reason he had softened his views towards you during the quest.

You were shaking in his arms and he couldn’t help but pull you in further, pressing his head to yours and whispering reassurance that you were ok. He was not a patient dwarf, but with you he always tried. It took a moment before your hands became steady, and he wrapped his thick fingers around yours with care.

“Thorin?” you questioned, your voice a hoarse whisper.

“Aye lass, you’re ok. Your safe,” he cooed, his fingers leaving yours and running through your hair to rid it of the leaves that had settled there.

“I’m sorry! I tried to be quiet and I-”

“Hush now, I know. You were quiet. You did good. Are you ok?”

You gave a nod, “I’m ok. I got to the top and couldn’t- Thorin, what are you doing?” you cut yourself off, freezing in his grip.

He ran his fingers through your hair a few more times before paused, looking down at your burning cheeks in question, “there are leaves in your hair,” he said like it the most obvious thing in the world.

“Le-leaves?”

“Leaves, branches. You came down rather hard. I would not be surprised if I pull out of bird or two,” he chuckled sending you one of his rare grins.

“My ha-hair. You’re touching my hair,”

The dwarf frowned slightly, realising that you were not still shaking with adrenalin, but because you were uncomfortable. He drew his hands back like you had burnt him.

“I- I, forgive me. I did not mean- I had no intentions to- I should have asked,”

“It’s fine,”

“Are you sure?” he glanced over you again. He was terrified he had upset you, but you made no attempt to move from his lap despite not being able to look at him, and that left him confused, “It obviously means something. To darrow, hair is important. It shows one another comfort or friendship to brush or braid. I thought it was this case with your kin as well. I did not mean to offend you or upset you in any way,”

“Oh no, its not that!” you quickly reassured him, the red still tainting your cheeks, “and hair is important to my culture as well, its just seen as… well more so a romantic gesture then a friendly one,”

It took a moment for Thorin to make the connection in his head, but when he did, he blushed furiously. His mouth fell open and he gasped rather like a fish out of water. There were a hundred things he wanted to say, to confess, yet he sat their unable to voice a single one. Your eyes, once curious were now full of hurt and… was that disappointment?

You cleared your throat and wiped your hands on your pants, “I’m going to get off your lap now,”

“Wait,” he blurted not wanting to waist such an opportune moment, his hand shooting out to stop you from leaving, “I would not be inclined to ah, repeat the action? If you would be accepting of course! That is to say I would like to court you, if you felt for me what I do for you…”

He cringed at his words, his mind so rushed in thoughts that he could not thing of anything more poetic. He felt his stomach churn and he wanted to hide his face in his hands until your voice spoke softly.

“You wish to court me?”

Your eyes were back on him and once again full of hope, so beautiful and deep he felt lost in them. Lost in daydreams and fantasies. Lost for words. Again, he sat there, his cheeks burning under his beard and his lips parting while nothing came out.

“Thorin?” you asked hesitantly, the pain starting to seek back into your features.

“Mahal, curse my useless tongue,” he muttered to himself. Giving up on words, he slid a hand around your waist pulling you against him and pressing his lips against yours in frustration and hope. He grinned against your lips as you kissed him back, wrapping your legs around his body to press closer to his chest. You both drew back breathless and smiling.

“I know we still have much to face. Mirkwood, the dragon-” Thorin went on again, his nerves back.

“Yes, Thorin,” you cut him off, kissing him again, “I want to be yours,”

“Then I am the luckiest dwarf in the world,”

You grinned and pressed your forehead against his, content to stay there in his arms as long as you could.  

“Well that was the most awkward proposal I have ever witnessed,”

“Mahal it’s about time,”

“Get some uncle!”

Thorin heard the others around them and was tempted to shoo them all away, but he simply kissed you again, all his worries temporarily gone.

Dwalin

It was instinct, a force of nature, a reflex that he caught you as you came tumbling out of the branches with a cry. The burly warrior had kept his eyes on you the entire way up and back, his heart in his throat as your climbed so far away from him. From his protection.

He knew better than to think you were useless, you had been traveling around Middle Earth alone for years now, but he couldn’t help but to want to keep your safe, hovering where he wasn’t necessarily needed, but willing to help you with even the easiest of your jobs. The others would often tease him over the way his demeaner softened when you got near, or the way he would follow you around like a puppy on a leash, but strangely the comments didn’t bother him. He knew he had it bad for you, and he was happy to be by your side however he could.  

Was he brave enough to admit the feelings he had towards you? Not a chance. But would be there for you regardless? Absolutely. That’s why he caught you with ease, wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you against his chest with worried eyes.

“Lass, what happened? Are you alright?” he questioned in panic.

You blinked slowly, glancing up at the tree you were in then to the ground, then to Dwalin himself who was still holding you close. One moment you were calm, the next you were wrapping yourself around his shoulders, your body shaking and your fingers clawing at his jacket to hold on and burry your face into the crook of his neck, your panic catching up to you.

Dwalin let you cling onto him wherever you needed to feel calm again and he rubbed soothing circles into your back with his thick fingers. He stayed quiet, no sure what to say to help, be he never let go. After a moment of silence you stopped shaking, Dwalin’s presence calming you in a way no other could.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into his neck, the edge of his beard tickling your cheek as you looked up at him with watery eyes and the scarred old darrow couldn’t help but to melt at the sight.

Holding you up with one arm, he wiped away your tears with a gentle touch, “Hush now dove, none o’ that. Ya’ safe and sound,”

“Safe,” you mumbled back, digging your face deeper.

“What did you see?” Thorin interrupted impatiently, his fingers tapping against the handle of his sword.

Dwalin scoffed, “Give her a second there would ya?”

“We don’t have time,” he glared back, raising a brow to question his best warrior.

“There’s no one out there,” you muttered before they could start bickering, “and if they are, they’re not finding us tonight,”

Thorin gave a nod, giving orders to the dwarfs around you to set up camp for the night. You let out a sigh and wriggled out of your saviour’s grip, Dwalin putting you down carefully.

“Ya alright lass?”  

“Yeah, thank you Dwalin. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” you mumbled that last part more to yourself but the dwarf chuckled and flushed red.

“Don’t have ta be without me. I’ll always be here ta keep ya safe,”

And almost to prove it, he reached up and softly pulled a branch from your hair. You gasped as his fingers brush your hair, and your heart pounded in your chest at the implication. Without a second though, your fingers laced around the collar of his tunic, pulling him in and kissing him.

Caught off guard, Dwalin’s eyes widened before fluttering closed, his body sinking into the sudden kiss. Disappointment weld in his chest when you pulled back to breath but you didn’t let go.

“You just kissed me,” he grinned, pink tinting his cheeks as he squinted at you in question.

You blinked, “Uh, yes. That is what you asked of me, was it not?”

“Asked of you… what?” He tilted his head in confusion, “I didn’t ask- that’s not to say I- It’s just-”

“You don’t wish to court me?”

“No! I mean yes! I mean- Mahal’s balls,”

You took a step away from him, embarrassment written across your face.

“Wait! Wait! I mean I do wish ta court ya, I have for a while now and I would do anything to get you to kiss me like that again. I just don’t understand how I asked ya,”

“Oh,” you frowned taking his words in, “ah, well… in my culture, to touch another’s hair is a rather intimate action. It’s something only lovers would do. When you touched my hair, I guess I jumped at the chance that you might adore me the way I do you,”

Dwalin smiled, a gentle and pure look, “Oh dove I do adore ya, more than ya could imagine,”

“Then kiss me again,”

“Aye, anything for my one,”

And kiss you he did.

Fili

When the first crack sounded, Fili thought it was his brother messing about. He grinned and spun around to smack him playfully when he realised that his brother had wondered off to help set up. When the second crack sounded and you gasped from somewhere above him, his heart froze in his chest as he realised what was happening.

He didn’t have time to call for help, to ask if you were ok, before he spotted your figure falling through the branches of the tree you had climbed. With every piece of strength Mahal had granted him in his creation, he shot through the small campground and held out his hands to catch you, tumbling when his foot hit a root of the great tree.

You squeaked as you came down, falling into the blond dwarf’s arms and bringing you both to the ground with enough force to wind you both.

In a tangle of limbs and soft groans of pain Fili blinked away the discomfort, shooting up straight to check on you. He had been fast enough to twist your bodies so you landed on top of him and now you laid with your head on his chest, you face scrunched in protest of the soreness in your limbs.

“Lass are you ok?” he groaned out in worry, watching your eyes glance around before meeting his.

“Aye, I’m ok. You?”

“I’m fine,” he reassured now his heart had finished pounding in his chest at his panic.

“Next time I’m sending your brother up the tree,” you moaned, resting your head on his chest once more, finding yourself in a rather comfortable position with the dwarf. Fili chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and making you smile.

For a long moment, the two of you simply laid there like that, covered in leaves and tangled up against one another, relishing in one another’s presence. It was comfortable, despite the hard ground, and you hummed in delight as he raked his fingers delicately through your hair. He worked attentively to get each and every leaf out of your locks and you blushed in guilt of not wanting him to stop.

“Fili, what are you doing?”

He hummed nonchalantly, “Getting rid of the leaves. You can do mine once I’m finished,”

“Fili you- it’s just- well I can’t just-” you spluttered, your face burning red.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to I just thought… I though we were getting close enough too… never mind,”

“You braided Ori’s hair only yesterday,”

“Aye? They are my friend, what of it?”

“Your friend? Is that what that means to you then? What I mean to you?”

Fili paused his fingers and looked down at your face in confusion and hurt, his stomach tensing and his eyes beginning to burn, “Do you not see me as your friend?”

“Of course I see you as my friend!” you reassured, snapping your head up to look at his defeated face, “I would trust and cherish not one else more than you by my side… it’s just-”

“Just?”

“Well, where I’m from, touching and braiding one’s hair is seen as more than just friendliness. It’s ah… more so a romantic or intimate gesture,”

Fili felt his entire body burn under your gaze. He had not meant to disrespect your culture and your explanation made him want to run his fingers through your hair even more, not to mention the way you were gazing at him, almost like you too wanted him to continue. It was true he adored you, was drawn to you in a way he had not felt with any of his other suiters, but he was nervous. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if this wasn’t a nudge to continue but a warning to back off? He didn’t always understand humans and it was worse with you not knowing much about your culture as it was just a big of a secret as his own culture.

Fili also had a nasty habit of over thinking everything he did.

“Fo-forgive me, I meant no disrespect,” he swallowed nervously, “To darrow, the gesture of brushing or braid hair is intimate yes, but for any we hold dear to us,”

You watched him carefully, “So I am dear to you?”

“More then you know. In fact, if you feel the same way, the offer to brush my hair remains? In- in the way your culture means it to be? If you wish to remain as we are that is fine too its just- I thought maybe- I really like you, in that way too. And now I’m rambling, and I can’t stop it, words are just coming out and I-”

You cut him off with a kiss, stilling his words but not his tongue. He pulled you closer, one hand around your waist and the other returning to your hair. You both pulled away dazed and giggling.

“I would love to braid your hair Fili,”

[primofate]

Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] Manager reader gets hit on/harassed

Note: IM BACK FROM VACATION I recommend you read “How it’s like to be their manager” first before this one. Gives it a lot more perspective :)

Scenario: During an away game at another school, you catch the eye of a senior there. Little did he know that you’re the Genshin team’s manager and how much trouble he just caused for himself. 

Warnings: SEXUAL HARRASSMENT but still SFW, swearing, profanities, fighting. platonic relationships.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Tartaglia, Kazuha, Xiao, Tohma, reader as the team manager

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

Lost.

It was like one of your traits. Getting lost easily. You sigh and look left and right to see if anyone was in the hallways to help you get back to the gym, or at least give you directions.

“Those guys...are gunna be worried if I don’t get back soon,” you sweatdrop a little and laugh nervously, picturing your childish team just losing it when you come back late. “I better hurry,” you mutter to yourself, pace quickening the slightest bit, just as a door to one of the classrooms slide open with a thud, revealing a spiky haired guy who stares and blinks at you. You take that opportunity to ask the guy where the gym is. 

Back at the gym where the team is doing warmups and practice receives, Tartaglia starts getting antsy and annoying. “Where’s Y/N-chan~~?” He sways back and forth. Zhongli sighs at his middle blocker, “She’ll be back soon, she just went to look for a vending machine,” They still had an hour to go before the practice match, so Zhongli wasn’t that worried. 

“Hmmm? It’s--HIT--been a while--HIT--since--HIT--she’s been back --HIT--though--HIT,” Kaeya states. Sentence cut off in pieces as he tries to keep the volleyball up in the air, his tied up blue hair starting to stick to his neck because of the sweat. Still, the team keeps practicing, up until 10 minutes later when even their captain starts to get antsy. 

“...Captain, don’t hide it, just admit you’re worried for her too,” Tohma states with a harmless laugh. Zhongli muses and finally sighs, “I have to stay here. Someone else go and look for her,” and immediately seven hands are in the air.

Tartaglia waves his hand “Me, me!”

Kaeya raises his hand “I’ll go!”

Diluc does too “I can do it...”

Albedo follows “I remember the layout of the school,”

Kazuha volunteers “I’ve got good instincts,”

Xiao gingerly picks his hand up “I’ll bring her back fast,”

and finally Tohma’s hand is high in the air, “I’ll find her!”

Of course everyone wanted to go... Zhongli decides he doesn’t want to deal with it and tells his team to go with rock paper scissors. Watching them battle it out really made him wonder how the hell he kept this team together. 

“YES!” Tartaglia pumps his fist in the air as he, Kazuha, Xiao and Tohma win the simple round of rock, paper, scissors. Kaeya, Diluc and Albedo are silently sulking, but continue their practice. “We’ll be back soon!!” Tohma waves at them as they exit the gym, starting their search on the ground floor classrooms.

Back where you were, you’d been following the guy for at least 2 minutes now. He said he’d lead you to the gym...but...it seemed as if there was less and less people to wherever he was taking you. It was the ground floor, at the end of the hallway where lockers lined both side of the walls. Suddenly the guy’s hand is wrapped around your wrist and he pulls you towards him. You instantly resist, pulling your wrist back and keeping away from him. “I-I just want to go back to the gym, my team is waiting for me,” 

You steel your gaze at the guy. If he thought you were just going to stand there and take his blatant disrespect for your personal space, he was wrong. But his next move leaves you feeling disgusted, your skirt hikes up and he grins. “Stop!” you screech and twist your wrist away.

Tartaglia halts in his tracks at your familiar voice. His head turns just as his other three companions does. 

The scene unfolding before him makes. him. see. red. 

Hell, he doesn’t even see anything except the image of him punching that grin off of that guy’s face. His vision zones in on the bastard’s features, he strides over, in less than 5 seconds reaching towards the guy’s collar and slamming him on the nearest locker. “The hell do you think you’re doing?!” You’ve never seen him so angry before, but the realization of what happened has you cowering away, feeling like some dirty thing that was played around with. 

“Tartaglia, ease up!” Tohma runs to try and restrain Tartaglia’s arms. He shoots a look at Xiao who immediately turns around to get the rest of the team, particularly his captain. Kazuha strides over to you, watching as you faced away and looked at the ground, ashamed. 

Kazuha was never one to resort to violence, nor was he particularly a resentful guy. But he feels it. He feels the hatred rush through his veins, but he focuses on you instead. “You’re alright, Y/N,” he places a hand on top of your head and smooths your hair down just as the others arrive. 

Tohma is barely holding on to Tartaglia, his strength matches his fury, but Diluc finally arrives and together with Tohma, successfully pulls Tartaglia away from the guy. 

“Calm down,” the red haired spiker insists, to which Tartaglia only shouts, eyes engulfed in fury and piercing the offender with his gaze. 

“This fucker touched Y/N!” 

Zhongli, Kaeya and Diluc freeze at the news. Their heads slowly turn towards the attacker. 

And now all set of 8 eyes on him are menacing, cold and unforgiving.

How dare he.

But Diluc holds his ground, restraining Tartaglia. 

Zhongli’s head turns towards your frame, seemingly meek and tiny and tears pooling around your eyes. 

Xiao hurries next to you as he arrives, the displeasure on his face was immense, specially when he starts wiping off the tears cascading down your cheeks. He grits his teeth “Don’t waste your tears on someone like him,” he knew well that you must have felt ashamed, and that your tears were not something you could control, but it was the best thing he could say. 

It was Kaeya, unrestrained and gurgling with hot anger that lifts his fist up.

But it was not his fist that connects with the offender’s jaw.

It was not his hands that pulled the offender up by his collar once again.

And it was not him who states “Do not come near her again. Don’t even look at her,” 

The whole team freezes. 

It was their captain.

The captain that was always calm and collected. Who always tried to stop fights and apologize for the inconveniences that his team caused. There’s a shiver that runs up the member’s spines at the feral look on their captain’s face. 

And then he drops the guy on the ground once again. The offender panicking and crouching backwards and away from them. “We should report it to someone,” Albedo, sensible and smart as ever, suggests. “...but throwing a few more punches in doesn’t seem so bad...” he adds and narrows his eyes at the guy.

“No, don’t. Let’s not waste our energies,” you firmly say and wipe the remaining tears away from your eyes. Kaeya moves over to your side and slides his jacket off of him and places it around your shoulders. “Okay, princess, whatever you want, we’ll just drop him off at the principal’s office and make a report,” when it really counted Kaeya’s flirtatious nicknames for you were quite reassuring. You smiled up at him a little.

Zhongli passes another glance at you, his fist is still tight next to him but he hoists the guy up and has Tartaglia come with him, since he was the one who saw everything. 

The rest of the team turns to you, with Tohma taking your hand and leading you back to the gym. “You’re okay, Y/N, we’re here,” and sure enough they keep close enough to you to fend off anyone else. Like wolves protecting their pack. You knew the chances of that happening again was slim, but seeing them so concerned and circled around you like a shield was really what you needed right now. 

“...Thank you,” you whisper to them as you arrive at the unfamiliar gym. They all turn back to you with a smile. 

“We’ll beat them to the ground at this game, Y/N, you’ll see,”

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[madamevirgo]

The Start Of Us

Pairing: Scarlett Johansson x reader

Summary: You’re a marketing intern for The Outset and you catch the eye of one Scarlett Johansson.

Warnings: none?

Words: 2051

A/N: The Outset inspired story you didn’t know you needed. Welcome to my first published series! I sat down yesterday feeling inspired and wrote about 5 chapters - nevermind the 4 assignments I have due this Friday, lol. The goal is to have 10-12 parts to this story and publish a chapter weekly. This will allow me to have at least two chapters sitting in my drafts in case I get too busy or lack inspiration. All the parts are around 2-3k words. I will also be posting this on my wattpad, so follow me there to get notified when I post (@Bellice15), or you can follow my personal hashtag ‘#MadameVirgoWrites’ to keep up with my updates on here. I don’t think it’s necessary for me to have a taglist at this point of my writing journey, and still need to make a masterlist. As always, feedback is great motivation and if you have any ideas of things you’d like to see in this story, comment them so I can be inspired. Happy reading! 

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist 

As a college student, it was hard to decide when the worst time of the year was; but right now, if I had to pick one, it would have to be the period between spring and summer break. That moment where you spend your time either looking for internships or student jobs and struggling to keep up with your assignments and exams; the countless hours spent on LinkedIn and with your nose in the books, questioning if you made the right career choice. I had lost count of how many cover letters I had written and how many organizations I had sent my resume to. Eventually, I had stopped being picky and simply started applying to things I was remotely qualified for. 

Beggars can’t be choosers, the saying goes. Job searching was a very humbling experience. It was a Friday night, around 11 pm. The rest of my friends would be several vodka shots deep by now, but here I was, sitting in front of my computer. A headache was starting to form itself, either from the stress, exhaustion or the blue light of my computer screen to which I had been exposed for 12 consecutive hours today. If I had to guess, I would say all three. I was close to giving up, resigning myself to the fact that I’d probably have to work an unsavoury retail job this summer - if I even got that lucky - when suddenly my laptop chimed with an incoming email.

Dear Y/n L/n,

After reviewing multiple applicants over the last few weeks, we are pleased to inform you that your portfolio has stood out to us the most. We would like to invite you to an in-person interview and further discuss the position of ‘paid marketing intern’ with you in the following week. Please reply to this email with your availability. 

We look forward to meeting you,

Kate Foster Lengyel

Co-Founder & CEO of ‘The Outset’

I re-read the email a few times to make sure it wasn’t a fragment of my imagination. To be fair, I didn’t remember applying for this position or company. But reading the onboarding kit, it seemed like the internship of my dreams, although the website explained that it was a new company which left me a bit hesitant. This wouldn’t be the first time I fell for a scam like that. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, I emailed back. 

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

A week later, the uber dropped me off in front of a large three-storey modern warehouse in the business district. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the building. Although the outside was beautiful, the inside was magical. The glass windows allowed the light to flow beautifully inside the building. The decor allowed minimalism and comfort to blend comfortably, and the soft music playing in the background seemed to harmonize perfectly with the sound of people talking and walking around. I was so in awe that I didn’t see a blond woman with a friendly smile approaching me. 

“Hi! You seem a bit lost. Can I help you, dear?” I looked in the direction where the voice had come from, and I felt heat rushing to my face. 

“Oh, uh yeah. Sorry. I have a meeting with Kate Foster Lengyel? It’s about the marketing intern position.” her eyes seemed to light up at that and her smile brightened if that was even possible. I breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Y/n L/n?” I nodded at that. “I’m Kate Foster! I’m so glad you could make it, please follow me, dear.” I nodded and followed her up to the third level into an office that seemed to overlook the entire warehouse. Once I was seated, she offered me a drink which I refused. I was too nervous to accept and didn’t want to risk emptying the content of my stomach in front of my potential employer. 

“You seem nervous dear. There’s no need to be. Scarlett and I both went over your application and you stood out to us. The job is already yours, to be frank, we simply wanted to have you over as a formality and to make things official by signing some papers.” she explained while she sipped on her coffee. I nodded before something she said stood out to me.

“Scarlett?” I said in confusion. 

“What do you know about our company, Y/n?” she asked after a moment of hesitation. I didn’t know much to be honest. When I received the email asking for a meeting I briefly looked over the website and what the requirements of my role were. I told her as such. “Well, to explain quickly, the idea of The Outset came to Scarlett and me during the pandemic and we pretty much created it during that time, through FedEx and lots of Zoom calls. We, as in, me and Scarlett Johansson,” she said this and looked carefully for a reaction on my part. 

Of course, I knew who Scarlett Johansson was. I wasn’t much of a Marvel fan myself but I’ve seen all of the movies and some of her other projects. I was admirative of her work but I wouldn’t go as far as calling myself a fan. 

“If you're worried about me being a crazy fan, let me put you at ease right now, Ms. Foster. I will be nothing but professional during my time here.” I was quick to reassure her. Satisfied with my answer, we proceeded with the meeting. She guided me through some contracts that I signed and explained or clarified some things. 

“So that concludes the boring part. You’ll be working with the marketing team, under the supervision of our Marketing Coordinator - Lily, and reporting directly to her. I can introduce you since we’re done here. We launched yesterday, so we’re pretty busy - which means lots of work for you. Things have been crazy and we only expect it to get worse, which is a good thing. Of course, if you need anything, we’re all a big family and anyone will be able to help you. And here is the marketing department!” She pushes a glass sliding door and I am met with a vast space with lots of desktops placed in different corners of the office space that was easily 8 times the size of my one-bedroom apartment. In the center of the office was a room which was surrounded by glass doors - it appeared to be the meeting room as I could see people sitting in there while a woman was presenting something. She seemed to be done however as they all got up and left. Kate caught her eyes and she made her way towards us with a smile. 

“Hi Kate, who’s your friend?” she asked, looking at me curiously. 

“This is your new marketing intern, Y/n L/n. Y/n this is Lily, our marketing coordinator and your supervisor. I’ll leave you in her capable hands so she can show you around. I’ll see you Monday morning, yeah?” she waved and then she was gone. As today was Friday, we had agreed that I would start Monday morning, this would give me enough time to go over anything Lily would need me to know. 

“I’m really happy to have you with us Y/n. Come on, I’ll get you acquainted with our side of the office before we get into the boring stuff. You can tell me about yourself while I show you around.” 

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

Lily showed me around the warehouse just so I could get familiarized with the different departments in case I needed to interact with them. She mostly focused on our side of things, though. She showed me the company’s cafeteria which was located on the first floor of the building while our department was on the second. The entire building was very modern and vast. I also got to know Lily well and it seemed like we would get along fabulously. She had graduated from my college with the same degree I was pursuing. She is also only a few years older than me - 25 to my 21 years old. 

I left the office with lots of paperwork to prepare me for the upcoming week and felt incredibly grateful. I spent the weekend working over said paperwork and getting familiar with the projects we were working on and events for the coming weeks. I would be shadowing Lily while doing tasks for anyone from the marketing team who needed it. By the time Monday came, I felt prepared, albeit a bit nervous. Although this was an internship and not much was expected from me other than to learn fast and execute tasks even faster, I wanted to prove my worth. I was doing some market research when I heard a knock on my door, I looked up to see Lily. 

“Hey! The car is here to take us to the photoshoot. Once you wrap up here, we can leave.” I told her I’d only be second and she nodded before leaving. I quickly packed the company-issued iPad and grabbed my bag before making my way to the car. 

“So everything was in the folder I sent you, but basically, we’re meeting Scarlett on site and making sure the photoshoot and interview follow the vision we have for the brand. We’ll also be taking some content, so there's that. Any questions?”

“How can I be as effective as possible during and after?” 

“Just have the project folder on hand so you can make sure we’re on track and take notes on what’s happening. You’ll be making a report for the end of the week. Try to be as detailed as possible and don’t be afraid to voice any concerns or ideas you may have.” she hesitated for a second before looking at me. “Have you met Scarlett before?” She asked, making me giggle.

“If you’re worried about me freaking out, I won’t. What is she like?” I wanted to know just so I could be prepared if she were an airhead and blur of designer and arrogance.

“She’s cool and laid back. Not at all a diva since I know you’re wondering. But I guess you’ll see for yourself. You’re a better person than me, it took some time for me to get over the fact that I was working with THE Black Widow. Come on, we’re here.” We quickly got out of the vehicle. We were early so we could go over some things with the videographer and other people on the project. Once Scarlett was ready we began the real work. 

Watching her in action was a different kind of experience. It was even better than seeing her on the big screen, and I finally understood why she was so loved and admired by so many across the world. I didn’t interact with her directly, but I could see how she behaved with the technicians and people around her. Always with a smile on her face, quick to laugh and make others laugh. She was easy to work with and in turn, that made everyone’s job easier and more enjoyable. I did my work and would alert Lily of any issues or points that were missing or not done correctly. By the time 3 pm rolled around, we were wrapping up and getting ready to leave. 

“Great work today Y/n, I’m impressed,” said Lily, before squeezing my shoulder. 

“Lily!” we both turned at that to see the woman of the hour (when wasn’t she) approaching us.

“Scar! Hey! You were fantastic.” she said, pulling her into a hug. 

“Thanks, honey. Who’s this?” she directed her attention at me and I felt heat rush up to my face. 

“This is Y/n L/n our new marketing intern. Y/n you know our co-founder and CEO, Scarlett.” Scarlett and I shook hands, but we quickly broke contact when we felt static shock.

“What an electric meeting. Glad to have you join the family Y/n. Your application stood out to Kate and me.” She said kindly, making me smile shyly before thanking her. I was pulled away by a technician and quickly excused myself. Although I was happy that people were already relying on me, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by being pulled away from Scarlett.

Part 2

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[takes1]

Hello, love your writing a lot!! I feel a little flustered asking for this, but could I please request an nsfw scenario with Shouto? Something really soft and sweet and intimate please, maybe at the end of a date night or long day. Thank you!!

awww of course tysm babes!! my apologies for the wait, i haven't written him other than for my headcanon post so i was having a hard time finding an angle for his character. hope it turned out okay !

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors stay off my lawn!!

details. afab!reader, pro hero!todoroki, established relationship, shared shirts, long day, blowing off steam, shower sex, aftercare, 2.6k words

🤍 scenario series. full list here.

more links. my ao3 / 'roki nsfw headcanons / requests open!!

A sharp shut of the bedroom door startled you out of your light rest. One glance at the clock told you that you only had four hours left before your shift started, but you muttered a weak attempt at greeting your fiancé anyway.

"Hey, baby."

You earned nothing in return for your effort. Brain still laced in sleep, your confusion was quiet and downplayed as you squinted across the room to his somewhat rushed undressing.

"Hey?" You tried again, unable to see his face.

Even if you could, he never wore his emotion. It was all in the details, with Shouto. Just off of a 14-hour patrol, he must've been tired, which always made him a little grumpy, and likely didn't feel verbal right now. Still, he usually at least said 'Hello.'

Understanding this, you tried to close your eyes and rest up.

Another snappy sound of a drawer closing, then a hushed, frustrated sigh. You opened your eyes, heart too sympathetic to stay trying, or pretending, to sleep after all, and sat up slowly to watch him search around for something.

You almost didn't ask, but remembered Shouto's strict code with his anger that involved never lashing out. He'd shoot himself in the foot before catching a harsh tone with you.

"What are you looking for?"

The rooting around didn't pause until after he checked in the laundry bin and the chair he sometimes threw clothes over. He took one big breath in and turned around to face you.

Upon realizing you were wearing The Shirtᵀᴹ he needed, he spared a tiny smile and an exhausted sigh. You understood right away.

To say it was his shirt is an overstatement. It was actually yours, paid for by him, which technically made it his, but you wore it marginally more than he did, except when he wouldn't take it off, or whenever you were gone in order to calm himself down. The only agreement you had on the ownership was when it didn't smell like you anymore and he begged you to wear your shirt to 'recharge it.' It was known between you as The Shirtᵀᴹ.

When he went back to the dresser to grab another, he spoke quietly, in a stilted voice, "'m sorry for being loud. You should get some sleep before your shift."

By usual standards, Shouto was not loud. It only seemed that way because he always made a point to be astoundingly silent. He never let doors click closed-- he manually turned the knob after it was pulled in. He used his fingers to still drawers before they shut, to muffle the bump. His footsteps, even when mad, were never on his heels-- he walked on his toes.

Possibly a little spoiled with these habits, you understood you wouldn't be getting any sleep if you knew he was awake and louder than usual. You slid to the edge of the bed and watched him stiffen.

"How was your day?" Was an easier, more open-ended question for Shouto than, 'What's wrong?'

It started with a series of huffs, sighs, and started sentences that had no real end or direction as he tried to get all of his issues out at once until his brain finally found one coherent track to stick with. He went through a rocky story about how he had to chase down a group that turned out to be a distraction for the real crimes happening a block away, which he only learned about after apprehending said diversion criminals.

During this quiet, frustrated retelling of his shitty day, you gradually worked him up to a much-needed hug and listened to his rapid heartbeat begin to slow, his breathing regulate, and his speech soften again.

"--And this, this idiot with a copy-quirk... I didn't realize it until he burned half of the building down," He placed his chin on the top of your head.

Now he sounded more dejected than angry, "Made everything useless. Double the damage, and the real villains got away."

You ran your hand through the roots of his hair and effectively soothed him, something he never could seem to replicate well enough on his own, and chuckled at his monstrous, built-up sigh. His face nuzzled hard into the side of yours, forcing your head into his shoulder, and your hand to instinctively tighten around his hair. Your free hand ran across his back in wide circles.

"Sounds awful, baby," You mumbled against his skin, "But you know not every day can be perfect."

He was bare except for a pair of briefs, but that wasn't an event of itself. He enjoyed the freedom of walking around nude, most of the time, and only frightened you sometimes.

Shouto was aware of your gentle reminder. Now, he couldn't find the energy to continue being upset. He was just drained and left with the pertinacious need to wash all of this nasty day off.

"I'm sorry for yelling," He mumbled, thumbs ceasing their small circles in your back.

Nothing he said came close to a shout. All of his emotional output remained on a muted spectrum. You smiled and pressed a small kiss under his ear, "You didn't yell at me, 'Roki."

A small, disagreeing hum against your temple. Careful fingertips pawed at your sides, pinkies and ring fingers slipping past your undies and drawing your hips into his as he leaned in for a relaxing kiss.

When he wasn't particularly minty, he enjoyed cooling his mouth to make up for it. His lips were nice and icy for you now as you shared a slow, loving few pecks. It was quickly not enough.

His figure loomed over you, lazy and slouched, squeezing your hips with a tighter grasp, and made you smile through his increasingly destitute kisses.

Physical touch was always his favorite way of expression. However, at the end of a long day, it was a gamble because of his gradual tendency to accidentally turn himself on when he was only initially seeking comfort.

He leaned forward so much you stumbled, which gave him the perfect opportunity to scoop you up in his arms and sit you on his hips, telling you, not asking, "Come shower with me."

There was no use not getting wrapped up in his needy declaration to make love, so you laughed through an 'okay, baby,' and let him carry you to the bathroom counter, where he preceded to steal The Shirtᵀᴹ before even turning on the water. Priorities, with this man.

Nose deep in it as he turned the knob to your preferred temperature, not his, he shamelessly palmed himself up and slid off his briefs so you could get a full view of his semi. Over the years, he'd come to terms with how pretty he was and enjoyed giving you a show every once in a while.

The Shirtᵀᴹ, draped around his neck like a scarf, remained there while he undressed you, granting you the gentle pleasure of his mouth against your jaw, neck, and shoulders. He tended to take his time with this part, but today, was in a hurry to do it under the comfort of warm water.

He transported you into the shower, making sure to toss his scarf onto the counter to preserve its value, and wasted no time dropping to his knees to worship your pussy.

"Shouto--!" You laughed, face warm with the humility he did not have.

When you moved away, he hummed in a disapproving manner and grabbed your hips to stand over his face, keeping them there, and moved your hand off of yourself, to his hair instead, "I wanna be inside you now."

No amount of impatience on either end could drive him to skip eating you out-- his dick could be on the verge of blowing up and he'd still dedicate the first bit to using his mouth on you.

Through the immediate waves of, admittedly a little rushed, pleasure, you worried for his breath, as you were directly underneath the showerhead, and with his mouth occupied, had little faith he'd be able to get any air.

"Oh-!" You smiled, brows curved up, "Juuust like that."

Your hand found the shower wall, the other helping stabilize his head as you rode his always eager, grateful face. Eating pussy was like a hobby for him, at this point.

He hummed into a sequence of kisses against your clit, the next more intense the last, before moving one hand from your hip to slip a couple of his long, prodding fingers inside.

"Aah, ha," Your breathy moans carried and created fuel for his untouched cock to twitch under the water.

His tongue stayed obediently flat for you at the insistence of your hips to rock back and forth, his fingers knuckle-deep.

Shouto was blind from the water, and also couldn't breathe consistently, but this was a small price to pay. He loved making his partner feel good and there was no quicker way to do it than oral.

"Come here," You tugged on his hair, one hand keeping his face from going back for more.

He was given no other alternative than to stop and, his fingers still in you, palm you as he went in for a heated, passionate kiss. Now both of you were impatient and unable to get enough of one another.

Shouto didn't give you a chance to even give him a few tugs, because after licking his fingers off, he put your arms around his shoulders and placed you on his hips, pressing your back into the warm, wet tile of the shower.

While he supported your weight, he gave you room to help guide yourself onto his already leaking cock. He was bad about precum, and early in your relationship, before you both agreed on 'whatever happens, happens,' condoms were a must. The pull-out method never worked for him because half of his load would be gone long before he actually came.

But it worked pretty well for lubrication, you found.

The familiar stretch he gave you was a welcomed sensation, the rock of his hips a rhythm you grew to somehow love more and more, over the years.

His eyes were piercing into your soul from this position, only made more noticeable as his face got closer to yours. You laughed through your breathy moans and caused him to return to the realm of the living, remembering to blink and stop choking you with eye contact.

He found the curve of your neck and stuffed his face deep into it, hugging you tight against him as he rolled his hips slowly, lovingly into yours.

"A-ahh, yesss, mn-!" You encouraged, legs squeezing him hard, causing a low groan to rumble from his throat.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and neck as the sound of the shower and skin-on-skin married together in your head. Around you, thick muscle tensed up for a second and gave way to a breathy, stuttered hum. He was still.

After he kept your hips from grinding against him, it occurred to you what happened. He almost came. You pressed a gentle kiss to the side of his head, still glued to your shoulder, "You're so cute."

A shaky exhale. He decided that if he wasn't going to last long in this position, he needed to change it. Part of him knew it wouldn't be much help, you were perfect and felt fantastic from any angle, but the chance to pull out would help stall his climax for long enough to work you up.

There was a light squeeze on your ass and a gentle kiss to your collarbone as he set you down and guided you to face the wall. You let out a soft whine, unhappy with the change. His lips were on yours in a second and quieted your displeasure with a 'sorry for not being in you for .2 seconds' kiss.

The unpleasant feeling of emptiness didn't last long, though, because he slid back into you slow and easy, his arms quickly finding their rightful place around your waist.

"Mmn, Mhm, Fuck," You gasped at the deeper angle, nails digging into his locked forearms, "Yes, yesyesyes-!"

Once again, he was entirely supporting your weight, as you were merely pushing back on him to take more. His mouth was hot and wet against your neck, his whispers sending a fire straight through every nerve in your weak body.

He muttered, breathy and deep with an audible grin, "I'm going to cum so hard if you keep that up, love."

The awful, cheeky bastard was so good at masking his sounds in order to tease you.

"But not before you do," He tacked onto the end with a firm press to the side of your head.

Diligent fingers knew their way around your clit well, easily working you up with his gentle encouragement, praise, and admiration. His strokes got harder, more focused on getting as deep as he could, his tongue lapping up the water that fell steady onto your shoulder.

You came in your favorite way, tightly embraced from behind, with his moans against the shell of your ear, his cock buried in you.

"So beautiful," He breathed, hand leaving your aching clit to get a better hold on you again.

Shouto followed close behind, once again showing you the difference in what the both of you needed in order to come, and how much he prioritized your pleasure first, as he drove his pace much faster, effectively eliciting a series of higher-pitched whines from you.

It wasn't the first time you'd have to start your night shift sore because of his cock, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"AaAh, fuck--," He hissed, guiding your back firmly up against his front. Your head hit his shoulder, and his own buried in your neck, as he snapped his hips deep into yours, filling you with burning, sticky seed.

His pants were labored, exhausted on your slick skin, but his grip never faltered. He knew you were too shaky to stand on your own.

Instead, he took to gentle, unhurried kisses along your neck while you found your strength again.

"I love you so much," You rose an unsteady hand to his head and rubbed circles in his hairline.

"I love you too," He sighed, bumping his head into yours, reciting all too casually, "I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Of course, this is what makes you shy after a good shower fuck.

Making sure to still support you as he pulled out, he gave a few light pecks to the top of your shoulder. It was easier after that, but your belly felt like it was buzzing and your muscles ached with the effort it took to grab a product from the shelf.

You turned back to each other with the same idea, your shampoo in his hand, his shampoo in yours. There was a silent agreement to continue anyway. It was a feat, the two of you messily trying to shampoo each other's hair at the same time, laughing, and getting suds everywhere in the process.

The rest of the shower was a bit smoother as you decided to take turns massaging, washing, kissing, talking.

"I'm sorry for waking you up," Shouto remembered his initial bad mood and ran a sheepish, soapy hand down the length of your back, "I shouldn't have been so loud."

You smiled back at him and shook your head, "You weren't loud. You know I don't sleep well anyway when I get a nine-to-three."

That reminded him you wouldn't get to cuddle tonight. A pitiful man-sized weight settled on you once more, arms crossed over your chest in an X as he pouted. He wanted you all to himself.

Quiet and a little whiny, he grumbled, "Just don't go to work."