#ever think of that? maybe it’s exhausting for those of us who are also closeted to watch this continually happen to Louis

[hazzabeeforlou]

.

[elegantniolo]

Never home - C. Sturniolo.

In which... you start feeling bad about body. you see all these pretty influencers and models who look perfect. Chris is slowly drifting away from your relationship. you think it's your fault but really it's just work..

Warnings... Angst, angerissuses!chris, body dismorphia, argument, use of y/n, etc.. I don't know what else.

Fiah speaking... Hellooo! I haven't made a fic in a while, so sorry if this is bad, lol. I wanna make this a series, though....

so, this got more votes for it to be a series so yeah it's gonna be a series

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You were currently sitting in bed, on your phone, scrolling through your feed, seeing all these gorgeous girls you cold look like. You looked at the time, 9:35, Chris wouldn't come home for a couple more hours. He's always working on ideas or filming for he and his brothers' channels. You wished maybe he could take a few days off or something. You then just got up off bed and decided to get ready for bed. You set your phone down to charge and walked to your shared bathroom. You turn the shower on warm water and undress yourself. You then turned to look at the mirror.. "God, why do I look so disgusting.." You mumble softly. You set your hands on your belly, why couldn't you be skinny like those models..?

You groan in annoyance and just get into the shower, you feel the droplets of water fall down your chest and belly. You grab your loofah and add some of your favorite scent of body wash to it, Shea butter, You then start to exfoliate your skin. After washing your body, you get some shampoo and conditioner and scrub it into your hair. After just standing in the shower for a while, you decide to get out, grab your grey towel, and wrap it around your body. You then do everything like do skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

You get out and walk back into the bedroom and to the closet. You walk into the walk-in closet and grab a black tank top and matching shorts. You get dressed and brush your hair, you dry it, then walk back to the bed. You turn the side table lamps off and lay in bed. You get into the big comfy blanket and snuggle into it. At this point, it was almost 11 pm, and you heard the door downstairs open Chris was home. You could hear his footsteps walk up the stairs. The house was silent as he walked through the bedroom door. You pretend to sleep, so chris didn't say or do anything. He sees your figure "sleeping" and just undresses and stays in his tank top and boxers as he slips into bed.

He's had a hard few weeks with his brothers filming, he's exhausted. He sleeps on his side of the bed, inches of space the two you, hes been a bit more distant and cold around you. You wanted his touch. You wanted his cuddles. You needed him to hold you in his arms. You then hear his breathing and little snores, you turned to face him, he was already asleep. God he looked so adorable, you just sigh and close your eyes, you then start to fall asleep with the teddy bear Chris got you guys in your first date.

morning.

It was 7 am, On a Saturday morning. You were still asleep but you could feel and hear Chris stirring awake. You decided to also wake up since you rarely ever see him in the mornings. Your eyes flutter open and you two make eye contact. "G'mornin." He mumbles tiredly as he got up off bed, "good mornin baby.." you say softly with a smile, you just now noticed you guys talked for the first time in days since he wakes up early and comes home late. "Youre leaving right now..? It's so early and I thought you filmed yesterday.." you say a with a bit of disappointment in your face. "Yeah.. me, Matt and Nick gotta come up with ideas, run some errands and some meetings. We've been busy, you know that." He says a bit coldly.

"Oh, sorry.. you're just never home.." You say quietly, "Well obviously y/n. I'm never home so I can build our future. Now let me be. I gotta go soon, or I'll be late, damnnit." He mutters, looking for his keys. You bit your lip, not wanting to break down. You get up and go downstairs to at least make him something to eat. You get to the kitchen and make him a quick breakfast sandwich.

You grab the loaf of bread that was on the counter, eggs, sausage, and cheese. You make the sandwich and heat it quickly in the oven. You put it on a plate and set it on the counter for him to grab when he leaves. You sigh, you wish he was here more. You go and sit in the living room and just watch some TV as you cuddled on the couch. You hear his footsteps walking down the stairs, you look to see him grabbing the sandwhich, "This is f'me, right?" He asked, you just nod and don't say a word. He shrugs and just leave the house without saying goodbye.

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Hihihihi I dunno if this is good or not. I hope you guys like this, but I feel like I used "you" to much and added like a bit too much details

Bye for now my pretty people.

[closingwaters]

PARTIES: @ronin-for-hire @closingwaters

TIMING: Current

SUMMARY: Teagan sleepwalks again and runs into Fang on the bridge while she's out on patrol.

WARNINGS: Parental Death and Sibling Drath mentions

Teagan tossed and turned in bed, sweat beading on her face. Her expression contorted into one of worry and fear, and her breath labored over what lay beneath the surface. She was having another nightmare, running as fast as she could through the trees in Hay. Just a few yards away, Teagan could see her childhood home. For a moment, she paused. 

Deep down, she knew the end. She knew going back in would only lead to that closet, to the blood pooling under the door. Still, she couldn’t change the ending, no matter how much she tried. It was always the same. Either Teagan ended up behind a door or she could never quite reach the house. She didn’t know which one was worse. 

Just as her body walked in the dream world, so too did her body in the physical realm. Teagan, while still asleep and in her pajama bottoms, tank, and no shoes, maneuvered out of bed and found her way outside. She walked and walked, trying desperately to get to the house, but it looked like it was one of the nightmares where she wasn’t fast enough. The path constantly grew longer, and never-ending. 

Teagan choked out a cry, urging her feet to move faster. They wouldn’t respond, feeling like they were trudging through molasses. Meanwhile, Teagan’s physical—and unglamoured— body had managed to find itself on a bridge toward Old Town. She couldn’t know that though. Not until she woke up and had evidently pushed someone onto the ground. 

It hasn’t been a good week for Fang. In fact, it has been one of those horrible weeks that felt exhausting and at the same empty. She wasn’t behind on her rent this time, but the worry and concern that she hasn’t been on a job in a while, which could make her behind her rent next time, weighed heavy on her head like the crown of a haunted queen who did unspeakable things to remain on the throne. It’s also been a week filled with period dramas, a weak attempt from her to alleviate all that stressful thinking. 

So, tonight, she tried to remedy that fact, going on a run in her slayer get-up. They called her the Fanged Oni, which was both ridiculous and a little badass to her. Fang was pretty sure it was because of the oni facemask she wore, though maybe the katana helped reinforce that persona as well. She tried to remember if she’s ever spoken Japanese to any witnesses, but as far as she could remember, she’s only over done so before beheading an undead bounty. No witnesses there.

As she arrived at the bridge that connected the two halves of Wicked’s Rest, or at least Old Town to Downtown, she took a breather, looking over the waters that solemnly crashed against the structure below. It reminded Fang of home, of her past life, not her first life as a child unaware of the dangers of the night but her second life of ascending to what she was now, prior to getting trapped in this part of the world. Like the bridge, she stood her ground against the waves of undead she had to slay to keep Tokyo and Osaka safe. Like the waves, she threw herself at the monsters, but it never really feels like any effort she made slowed them down, slowed their threat and danger to a useful minimum. “Gotta love existential bullshit at night.”

Fang’s reverie was interrupted by a body shuffling toward her. On instinct, she unsheathed her katana, ready to strike, but when a tiny little voice at the back of her head told her to take a second look, she restrained herself. She didn’t look undead. She looked like something else. Like something she’d encountered before but never really killed. Because they weren’t undead. The woman didn’t even look like she was in control of anything as well. What was going on? 

“Are you all right?” Fang slowly sheathed her blade in its hilt, using her gruff, Batman-esque voice to speak to the newly arrived, taking a step back each time the other woman took a step forward, closer to her. “Do you need help? I don’t want to hurt you, but if I have to—” It took a lot of control to keep herself from harming the creature but Fang held true to her decision, even as she was pushed down on the ground. 

The pain never got easier. It was a feral and hungry thing, in need of devouring every last bit of whatever host it lay in. Most days, Teagan felt like it was a ball of energy that bounced inside her. She could feel it. The aches, the stings, the heaviness. It moved with her. It grew with her. She wasn’t sure it would ever stop. It persisted even when her growth spurt was over, and it was persisting then. It was ravenous and all-consuming. Asleep or awake, it didn’t matter. The grief would eat at Teagan until it was satisfied, slow her world until there was nothing left.

Was there anything left?

Teagan pondered on that as she looked around the old Welsh Cabin, at the massacre she had to help clean up. The bodies twitched, and she swallowed, taking a step back. Like her grief, it appeared her family was hungry too. Their mouths opened impossibly wide, a void deep in their throats and eyes dead and vacant. For a moment, Teagan thought they may crawl to her and rip her apart to consume, but something arguably worse happened.

They screamed for her.

The calamitous wailing snapped Teagan’s heart. No matter how hard she pressed her hands to her ears, the sound didn’t dampen. She had to run, she thought. Run! 

Bursting into a sprint, she felt a wall stop her, and she crumpled. Cold, hard ground welcomed her, and the blurry world around Teagan came into view when the claws of her dreams set her free. “W-what?” Not again, she screamed in her head, looking at her surroundings to find that she was on the ground with someone in a strange outfit. Fight immediately took over, and Teagan dug her claws into the stranger.

In retrospect, Fang would have sliced the woman’s head off. But she wasn’t undead. Nor was the slayer being paid to waste such a good kill. Rule number one of being a slayer-for-hire: Never kill anything for free. Especially when you’ve got rent to worry about, and Fang always had rent to worry about. Even when she didn’t. 

Fang groaned when the creature attacked her. A quick, brief scream of pain followed but was immediately ended when the slayer channeled the pain to fight back, striking the fish monster with her katana’s hilt. Once was a warning. Twice was to get the fuck off of her. Finding an escape by rolling to her right, Fang ended up on one knee, staring her attacker down. The slayer gritted her teeth, clenching her jaw, as she took a moment to check her wound. “That wasn’t nice,” she growled, before pointing her blade at the damned thing. “Final warning: Come at me again, I’ll slice your head off.”

Even as the bluff left her lips with ease, she knew she couldn’t. Wouldn’t. The last time Fang encountered something similar to this creature, she was still in Japan. She had tracked another yokai in Fukuoka and had made a mistake of chasing after it alone. When she came to, she was being resuscitated by a kappa, Sir Mix-a-Lot. She was the one who gave it that name. Because kappas like big butts and that one couldn’t lie. At least not to her. 

But Fang’s current attacker was no kappa. It was similar but more beautiful in a strange way. There was something about it that made the slayer stubbornly not want to hurt it. Even though it was hurting her. Something she just quite couldn’t put a finger on. At least not yet.

The hilt to her stomach wasn’t unwarranted, Teagan knew that much. She had attacked with no regard to who was in front of her, and now she was staring at the sharp end of a…sword? “S-sorry.” She swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to let her glamour cascade over her body. She looked human again, and was wearing what was obviously sleepwear. Finally, Teagan began to explain. “I got startled is all. I was asleep in my bed and now I’m here.” Looking around, Teagan tried to find any markers she recognized. All she saw were trees and the bridge she was on, but she could decipher the sounds up the river just beneath them. She couldn’t be far from her home, she thought. 

“Where are we?” Teagan tilted her head curiously, brows creased together with confusion and worry. She needed to get back home. How did she get out anyway? The shackles should’ve–the shackles! Teagan raised her wrists to her eyeline and saw just how raw and bloody they were. Okay, so the shackles were out now. 

With a groan, the nix let herself fall back on the ground and covered her face with her hands. Frustration was mounting over and it was all Teagan could do to force herself not to cry. At least the getup the person was wearing was a good enough distraction. She decided to focus on that. “What are you doing out here in that outfit anyway? Are you some sort of superhero? Never seen one before in the flesh.”

Fang slowly lowered her sword, squinting as the creature transformed into a more familiar form. Too familiar. “Do I know you?” It was the least important of the questions she could have asked, given everything that her now-human former attacker had shared with her, but Fang was a less troubled by the sleepwalking and more curious about her identity. The slayer did just encounter a dream eater not too long ago. Was this Ariadne’s doing? 

And then it hit Fang. Just like that. While her mind had taken a step down the lane of recently familiarized associates. “You’re that pretty girl online. With the different-colored eyes.” Also the confidence of an expensive sugar baby, but that was beside the point. Or was it? “We’re on a bridge. Not sure what its name is but it’s the one that connects two halves of the town.” Not the very best description. More vague than she intended. But that was all that came to her at that moment. 

When the other woman looked like she was about to bawl, her “muddied” hands on her face, Fang quickly returned her katana back in its sheath. Carefully, she took a few steps toward her, uncertain as what to say or do. “You all right? You need help?” When she heard that quip about being a superhero, however, Fang heaved a sigh. She hasn’t heard that one before, though mostly because she never really revealed herself this long to anyone that didn’t die shortly thereafter. Taking off her oni facemask, she stowed it in the inside pocket of her jacket. “No, just a cosplayer. You’re not human, are you?”

This person wasn’t Xóchitl. The only other person that was sent a picture of the nix was that odd stranger that wanted to make sure Teagan wasn’t a goatee, or something like that. Was her name Mica? Or was that the random friend she mentioned? It was hard to recall. At any rate, Teagan wasn’t sure they even shared names. They hadn’t had the chance to get together for a fun-filled night either. Although, Teagan wished they had. Especially when the other’s face was revealed. How was everyone in this town so damn pretty?

No, she had to focus.

“Yeah. Pretty girl online.” Teagan nodded, crawling slowly to the edge of the bridge, leaning against the partition so she could rest. “You’re the grumpy woman who likes to frown.” A chuckle escaped from Teagan. One that lacked any real humor in it. “Still interested?” She flashed a sarcastic look at the woman, a knowing one that said she figured the answer would be a no. “I’m Teagan. Can I have–” A pause. It was a force of habit to settle into her fae instincts, but Teagan thought it best to not bite the hand helping her. “What’s your name? Or does that only come after a second sleepwalking meeting?”

Fang snickered. Grumpy woman who likes to frown? Not the worst description anyone has even given her. Most of the worst ones were in different languages, cuss words in native tongues speakers believe she wouldn’t know. Whether it was intentional or not, it was creative. Only makes the listener grow madder in confusion. Still does its intended purpose. What were those words the Austrian spat at her after she cut off his thumb? Fang couldn’t even remember, only that once he spoke them with vitriol, it was like her katana had a mind of its own. A quick slash. No sound. Just a muscled man crying in pain like a child. Good times.

“Interested in what? You already fucked me up,” Fang thought that was creative, grinning from ear to ear as she looked the other woman over. If she wasn’t well aware of the supes, maybe she would’ve said no straight away and ran in fear like that Austrian. But let’s face it, years fighting supes, working with some of them? It wasn’t impossible for something along those lines to happen. “Fang,” she liked what she was seeing, so what’s the harm in giving out a name? Fang might regret that, but she can just add that one to an already growing list. “Maybe we should get you home, Teagan. Might be safer inside.”

Teagan chortled at the joke, tension being cut as easily by Fang’s joke as she imagined it would be for her katana to cut anything else. She was a funny lass. Cute, too. “Good one. Maybe you are a superhero. They’ve always got those good quips.” A chuckle came easier then, Teagan’s chest no longer tightening at the startling realization of waking up in a different place. Fates. She just wanted June to end.

“Well Fang, I think you might be right.” The nix groaned as she rose to her feet, legs still wobbly from the effects of panic. “Should probably get home. Fate knows who is out here.” Taking a deep breath, Teagan nudged Fang’s shoulder playfully with her own. She grinned tiredly, meaning her words to only be taken in jest. “Maybe your arch nemesis will spring out of nowhere and make the night worse. We better hurry back to my cabin. Get safe under those covers, eh?”

That chortle made Fang smile. Not the kind of smile she always did for others, the polite business-like smile, but the kind of smile she didn’t even know she makes. Shaking her head, she tried to brush that superhero comment off. It just wasn’t her style, even though she’s gotten it from others, including Sara. Superheroes do things for others, lay their lives on the line for useless ideals. Fang would only do things for others if she was getting paid. Maybe years ago, sure, but these days? After her mentor’s death? If there had ever been a superhero inside of her, she was long dead.

“No arch nemesis, fortunately,” Fang feigned a cough before fixing herself up, dusting her clothes off of the dust that had settled on it during their scuffle. If there were even any left. “No lovers, too.” She took one long look at Teagan again, not even the least bit concerned of the woman’s other form, and licked her lips. It was that kind of night, huh? She deserved a break every now and then, especially since the last one was, what? Like a year or so ago? “You do owe me a massage…or something else.” A wink and a grin and they were off.

[hiraya-rawr]

the stupidly domestic things you do with him

Characters !! Childe, Diluc, Zhongli, Kaeya

Masterlist 1

Childe

He's been watching you water the plastic plants in his home ever since you moved in, and it's been months!

This arse would even use his vision to help you water the plants. You're quite fond of your potted friends and you would even take the time to talk to them, hearing that it's good for their growth.

At first Childe found it hilarious and only wanted to see how long it would take before you would notice, BUT NOW he doesn't have the heart to tell you that they're fake.

You look so happy with your plants! How could he break that? He would pour out all the water whenever you're not looking to avoid overflow, and maybe even buy slightly larger duplicates to show that they're growing.

"Look how pretty they are, Ajax! They haven't rotted even once ever since I moved in. Guess I do have a green thumb huh."

"Yeah yeah baby, such a great gardener I have."

Diluc

This man is only weak to three things: You, hydro, and his turtle (named Tobi).

When you moved in with Diluc, one of the first things you noticed in the manor was the large turtle tank kept near the reading area.

Since then, you've taken it upon yourself to take care of Tobi and bring it outside ("Because turtles need fresh air too!" You would tell him).

Unsurprisingly, this man also has a little pond outside the winery for Tobi to roam in, with grape vines cascading down for it to eat. Your relationship is so domestic when it revolves around his childhood pet turtle, and he's so horribly soft for both of you.

Now imagine getting attacked by the cryo slimes while you're taking Tobi down to the lake to roam. Diluc, who was busy with work, was trying to catch up to you when he saw the attacking slimes blowing cold winds.

So of course, retribution!!!

"'Luc! We need to warm up Tobi!"

"Alright alright, Hand him over to me. You as well, come here."

Zhongli

Preparing for rare date nights after being in a relationship with him would be so intimate and domestic.

He's carefully attaching your earrings on when you couldn't get it on. Peppering soft kisses on your ear and shoulder as he admires your reflection on the mirror.

Or he'd help you with your eyeliner and you'd help him with his. Bright amber strokes, both your faces so close to each other.

I imagine short slow dances in the kitchen or dressing room. It doesn't matter whether there's music playing or not, he'd wrap a hand around your waist and sway you!

Zhongli is quick to get ready but you're usually still looking through your closet, wearing and giving him a twirl with every outfit.

"How does this look, 'Li? Is it better than the last?"

"Darling, you look gorgeous and I love you but if we take any longer, we'll miss our reservation."

Kaeya

Although he doesn't really show it, Kaeya is often exhausted with all the things he has to do and think about. Whether it's cavalry captain things or.. other darker things.

You understand this and try to make your shared house more comfortable for him: preparing dinner, running the bath, fluffing the pillows, etc for when he gets home.

You don't exactly understand that those aren't what he looks for in a home.

"Oh Kaeya, you're home! Would you like dinner first? Or a bath, or- oomf."

He would immediately engulf you in a hug — arms pulling you close, his face in the crook of your neck — he'd sigh deeply, indulging in your comforting presence.

"Long day at work?" You would ask.

"Mhmm... Give me a minute. Just a minute longer like this, love."

[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

Taglist:  @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @KimbapSana @fanfictionenthusiast

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[awesomefringey]

Hi Sabine, hope you’re doing well. I’m watching the fandom fall apart and I’ve only been here a year. I’m shaking my head that in just a year, actions by these boys we fell in love with have driven away so many fans. It makes me sad. I’ve watched as many accounts I started following here and on Twitter as I came into the fandom just fall away disillusioned, never to return. NOT unlarrying, just deciding to not give them any more of their attention. It makes me sad.

Hi nonnie, I’m so sorry that the fandom space you created for yourself by following certain blogs and accounts, has become so unreliable for you. I hate to see my friends and moots frustrated too.

I’ve been away most of this week (a bit on and off prior too) and will be for another two, so I don’t have a front seat in this fandom and to what you’re experiencing right now.

But to me, longer than that, maybe since Harry filmed the most lifeless version of “Golden” for the Jingle Bells Ball in 2020, which we now know was around the time he signed for DWD, and Full Stop had drafted out what we now know as the most tiring movie promotional/bearding stunt of his career - there’s been a shift in everything. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Harry’s fully in on it, but I’ve got the feeling Harry’s insight on his fanbase is based on reports from his management who will use mere stats of engagement but won’t get into the “mood” behind online traffic. I have the feeling Harry is absolutely unaware how foolish he looks to so many, and that he would comment on spitgate - of all things - confirmed it to me.

Louis on the other hand, would still wear a golden H on his shirt for his 160k (possibly physically more) worldwide viewers of his livestream concert in December 2020 knowing Harry would kick off Holivia two weeks after, and Louis would still choose Harry’s tattoos fan art as canvasses on Spotify for the “Walls anniversary” more than a month later.

So I personally experienced Louis as the comforting one, I was leaning on him for carrying us through this shit. Until he wouldn’t anymore. Latest when he signed with BMG and committed to a certain image, a certain genre and a certain clear promotional narrative for himself. Louis still loves to play mind games with Larries, the Houston/Seattle/28 days apart/bluegreen shirt coding is cute. Yet, Louis also used a fan’s kid to try and end any doubts about his fatherhood within his newly growing fanbase of very young Louies on TikTok.

It’s been a very calculating move by his team and it proves, not only Harry is going to remain closeted but so will Louis (and his efforts can secure it with or without a gf).

And I think with that realization a lot of fans aren’t willing to stay. Either because they joined the fandom to be around for “the end” and just don’t see the fun anymore, or because they don’t feel like Louis and Harry actually want our support at this point. (And millions of other reasons, I’m just using the most common ones.) And while I won’t miss the first, the latter are the most passionate and invested ones. Those are the ones I follow too and it’s heartbreaking to see them stepping back from exhaustion. Especially the bigger accounts on here get sooo many anon asks, so many unfiltered angry, sad, doubting messages, most we don’t even put out there. Being exposed to so many different emotions in your inbox can be thrilling and exciting most of the time, but also super tiring on low days.

I think to step back for a bit, taking a break when you need it, is absolutely fair and crucial to maintain your health. We underestimate the hard work it is, to be an active member in this fandom. The amount of time we spend on here while having a real life and school and jobs, the stress we go through, the emotional rollercoaster day in and day out, the ever lingering fear of missing out… I feel breaks are wonderful too, because they allow us to remember what led us here to begin with, the pure love we have for both. So I hope those accounts/bloggers you’ve seen leaving, might return stronger too one day. Either way, I hope you’re ok! 💜

[devilyn]

i told you i’ll catch you if you fall | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: like strangers do by aj mitchell.

If you saw me on the train would you look the other way?

Like strangers do

And if you passed me on the street

Would you look down at your feet

And move on through?

Like strangers do

— synopsis: you thought tsukishima fell out of love, and he thought so too, but maybe that wasn’t exactly it.

— genre: angst lol, happy endings

— word count: 2.3k

Falling out of love is a strange thing. Tsukishima’s life was always busy, but there was always someone he could look forward to returning home to. You’d welcome him home with a bright smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek. Some nights, he’d pull you into his arms and fall asleep with his head against your chest. Others, he’d let you cuddle into his side and run his fingers through your hair as your warm breath fanned against his neck. No matter what, he was always happy just to see you.

At some point, he stopped looking forward to those things. Kisses became a chore, and he became used to sleeping with his back towards you. Dinners together were usually quiet, but now they were silent. Yet he couldn’t even find it within him to break up with you.

So you broke up with him.

“You should’ve just told me,” you told him with a teary smile. His heart squeezed in his chest at the way your voice cracked. “That you fell out of love with me.”

And he was silent. He didn’t chase after you even after you finished packing an overnight bag and left your shared apartment.

Falling out of love is a strange thing. Because Tsukishima wasn’t sure if he ever really fell out of love, or if he just should’ve tried harder to love you. 

Now, he spent his rare free time sitting at the cafe the two of you used to frequent because it was close to your shared apartment. He’d order two drinks. One was his usual order. The other was yours. 

He’d set your usual order across from him and gaze out the window. If he tried hard enough, he could pretend like he wasn’t sitting alone. And sometimes, when he looked over, he’d delude himself into thinking you were smiling that smile you give him that says--”I really, really love you.”

And then he’d blink, and you’d be gone.

Other times, he’d stand outside your lecture hall just to catch a glimpse of you through the tiny window in the door. He always felt like such a creep when he did that, but when his eyes trailed over your concentrated expression, his heart would skip a beat in his chest, and he’d ask himself why he ever let you leave.

Once, he gathered up the courage to send you a text, and he felt like crying for the first time when he realized you had blocked his number.

Little by little, your things were disappearing from what used to be your shared apartment. You were clever. You only stopped by when you knew he was at practice or in class so he wouldn’t ever run into you. The polaroids of the two of you that you forced him to take with you were still hanging against the bedroom wall, but the photos of you and your friends left empty spaces in the carefully planned photo grid.

Your little belongings were gone. Your skincare disappeared from the bathroom sink, and your clothes that took up half of the closet were almost completely gone. Planners, notebooks, pens, highlighters, things he had never looked at before--they were all a part of you, but they were leaving him as well.

Soon, he started to recognize the symptoms of heartbreak. His eyes began to follow you whenever he spotted your familiar figure on campus. He’d notice the small changes--you looked more tired, like you hadn’t gotten any sleep. Your usual sunny smile whenever you saw him would be replaced with a hurt expression whenever you caught his eye, and you’d hurriedly look away.

Tsukishima started to fall asleep in class. He’d never done that before, but he hadn’t been able to sleep at all, recently. Because at night, he’d lay awake and stare at the ceiling while his hand continuously came down on the space where you used to lay next to him. He started messing up at practice, to the point where his coach had to pull him aside and reprimand him to rest properly. But he couldn’t. He doesn’t think he’s slept properly since you left.

He thought he had fallen out of love with you. So why was it that he could no longer function properly without you?

“You want me to call her?” Yamaguchi asked one night while he was visiting to check in on his heartbroken best friend.

Tsukishima was silent. He’s not sure if he would feel hurt or relieved if you responded to his best friend’s calls but not his.

“...can you?” he finally asked. At this point, he had kicked his pride to the curb. He sat with his head in his hands at the dining table, his best friend standing in the doorway with a worried look in his eyes.

Yamaguchi didn’t hesitate to pull up your contact and call it before putting it on speaker. It rang once. Then twice. Three times. Then four.

And then it stopped, and the two men heard shuffling on the other side of the line.

“...Tadashi, is this about Kei?”

Tsukishima felt like he was going to collapse, even though he was already sitting. He can’t remember the last time he’s cried, but he sure felt like crying now.

Your voice sounded like home. A wave of relief washed over him, even though your voice wasn’t even directed towards him. Yamaguchi’s gaze flickered between his phone and his friend who had now buried his face into his arms.

“It is,” he answered hesitantly, “but I also wanted to check up on you. How’re you feeling?”

You were quiet for a second before responding. 

“You won’t tell him if I tell you, right?”

“Nope.”

Tsukishima was surprised at how easily Yamaguchi could lie. He finally lifted his head up as the brunette took a seat next to him so he could hear your voice better.

“...in all honesty, I’ve been feeling terrible,” you laughed weakly, and Tsukishima felt like his heart was going to fail him at how much the sound hurt him. He did that to you.

“You need to take care of yourself too,” Yamaguchi responded worriedly, now concerned for both of his friends.

“Maybe,” you hummed softly. “But I’ll be alright, just check up on Kei for me, alright? He looked a little tired when I saw him on campus today.”

He almost cursed out loud. How could you still be worried about him after everything? Without knowing, Tsukishima’s hand raised to grasp at his chest, as if doing so would ease his heartache.

“Why don’t you check up on him yourself? I’m sure Tsukki would appreciate that,” Yamaguchi advised as he glanced at his friend with furrowed brows.

“Ah,” you sighed softly. “Uhm, I think...he wouldn’t want his ex to check up on him. Especially since he fell out of love with me in the first place.”

“You broke up with him, Y/N--”

“Only because he was dragging the relationship on for my sake,” you cut Yamaguchi off quickly, and the two men lifted their heads at your sharp tone. “Did he not tell you, Tadashi? About how he treated me like I was literally air in the last month of our relationship? I was invisible to him! He didn’t tell you he fell out of love?”

Tsukishima couldn’t really remember the rest of the phone call. All he remembered was how you cried despite how much Yamaguchi tried to comfort you, and all he could think was ‘I did that’. He repeated the three words like a mantra each time he remembered the way you sobbed about how much it hurt to physically watch him fall out of love with you--to watch him stop caring about you and your relationship.

“You know what’s worse, Tadashi?” you croaked out between cries. “I still love him.”

Tsukishima doesn’t remember when Yamaguchi left. Just that he did, after murmuring that the two of you should talk to sort everything out.

The blonde middle blocker laid awake that night, staring at his ceiling and smoothing his hand over the sheets where you used to be. He hurt you, and now you were hurting even more than he was. He considered himself fortunate, because at least he knew you still loved him with all of your heart, even if you went out of your way to avoid him.

But you didn’t know that. You were living with the lie that he had stopped loving you a month ago, and he needed to fix that. He needed you to know he couldn’t live without you.

So as the sun slowly began to peek through his curtains, Tsukishima sat up and resolved that he was going to talk to you today, whether you liked it or not.

Which is why he was now standing outside your lecture hall, gazing as your exhausted eyes flicked from your screen to your professor as you tried to diligently take notes. Even now, he couldn’t help but think you were beautiful.

He snapped back into reality when a student obstructed his field of vision to exit the crowded lecture hall. Using his height to his advantage, he peered over the line of tired university students to watch you pack up your bag and join the patient line waiting to leave.

The moment your eyes locked with his, your shoulders slumped, as if you had expected this to happen eventually. Instead of filing out of the building like everyone else, you exited the crowd and stepped in front of him. And he inhaled your familiar scent for the first time in what felt like years, but was only really a few weeks.

“Were you waiting for me?” you asked quietly with a weak smile.

The question was a familiar one. So he smiled sadly back, reaching forward to gently cup your cheeks.

“...yeah. Thought we could talk at our cafe.”

“Our cafe? I thought only I used to call it that.” you teased lightly, and Tsukishima felt himself relax at your familiar, lighthearted tone.

“I got into the habit of calling it that too,” he murmured as he held his hand out to you. “After you left.”

Your playful smile faded as you slipped your hand into his. His fingers laced easily with yours, and he brought your hands to his lips so he could press a soft kiss to your knuckles. Your brows furrowed immediately as he savored the feeling of your hand in his and his lips against your skin.

“Kei--”

“Let’s go,” he cut you off purposefully, and you stared up at him before sighing and nodding.

Admittedly, he realized he didn’t have much of a plan as he sat down and placed your usual order in front of you. His long fingers wrapped around the warm cup and slowly brought it up to his lips.

“You really shouldn’t give me false hope like this,” you spoke quietly, gaze focused on the people passing by outside the window. As if you couldn’t even look at him.

“I’m sorry,” he started, and your eyes quickly turned back to him. You were surprised. “I’m sorry--I should’ve told you that I never really fell out of love.”

“Kei,” you furrowed your brows and tilted your head. Frustration. He recognized your habits. “If you were still in love with me, you sure didn’t act like it.”

“That’s why I’m sorry,” he cringed slightly. His pride was surely injured, but it was faring better than his heart. “I thought I fell out of love. I really did. But then you left, and I realized...it was never you.”

His hand reached across the table to take yours into his again. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and he watched the way your expression softened at the simple gesture.

“I was tired, and took it out on you. I didn’t know how to balance everything, and I thought that if I cut you out of the equation, it’d solve everything,” he admitted quietly. “But turns out, you were a necessary variable to make the equation work.”

“Are you really equating me to a math equation, Kei?” you asked exasperatedly, and he chuckled. “Right now, of all times?”

“Maybe,” he mused.

“You’re the worst,” you retaliated quickly with narrowed eyes, and he smiled--a genuine one. Probably the first one in months.

“And you love me,” he responded. He watched you hesitate before nodding slowly.

“...I do. But it doesn’t make our relationship any easier,” your gaze turned down to his thumb, still brushing slowly over your knuckles. “You can’t just ignore me whenever things get hard. You have to tell me what you’re thinking--I can’t read minds, Kei.”

“If I promise, will you move back in tonight?” he paused before continuing, “...I can’t sleep without you.”

Your expression morphed into one of pure love, and your free hand reached across the table to gently cup his cheek. Your thumb slid under his lenses to brush over the dark bags under his eyes, and he leaned into your touch.

“...sure. If you promise.”

“Then I promise,” he answered quickly, and you laughed. He watched you with awe, taking in the way the corner of your eyes crinkled as you giggled and how your eyes shimmered with stars he couldn’t find anywhere else.

He didn't care if you were in public anymore--he could no longer resist.

He leaned across the table and kissed you softly, pouring every ounce of his love into your lips. You melted against him, and reciprocated by doing the same.

When he pulled back, you were smiling, and he was sure he’s never seen anything so beautiful in his life before.

“...I love you,” he whispered. “Sorry it took so long.”

“I love you too,” you responded with those familiar stars shimmering in your eyes. 

He knew then, that he’d spend every day proving his love for you. And he’d never stop trying.

[bakudekushimasimp]

Warnings: 18+, NO MINORS, vaginal sex, shower play, dom!Katsuki,

Summary: Katsuki walks in while your in the shower, you don’t even notice as you have music playing. He’s in shock at not only how amazing your body is but the way you sway your hips and dip low as if no one can see you but he in fact can see you, ALL of you.

You’ve been living with your classmate and fellow hero ever since you graduated from UA, katsuki bakugou. It’s usually always a good time except when you’re in one of your bratty moods and he’s just.. him. Over the last few years even before graduation you noticed new feelings you had for him, but never acted on them as he never seemed to show interest in being more than friends. You both were always so busy with missions anyways. Last night being one of those nights, and both of you getting back extremely late. So the next morning when you woke up you were barely awake starting your morning routine. You trudged into the kitchen past katsuki who had passed out on the couch. One arm slung over the arm of the couch, other resting on his perfect abs. You slowed down taking in the pleasant sight only to shake your head, knowing all the nasty thoughts going through your head would only remain a daydream. You walk into your kitchen getting a pitcher of water and filling your Keurig up before placing a cup in the holder and pushing it down. You get on your tip toes reaching for a mug out of the cabinet; your over sized shirt lifting to show off your snug boy shorts that don’t cover all of your caramel skinned bottom. You thought you heard rustling so you quickly peek over your shoulder at the couch which your roommate was sleeping on, just to see he shifted onto his stomach and now had his face down into the cushions turned at a slight angle. You sigh and relax onto the pads of your feet and place the ‘Dynamite’ branded cup into place on the Keurig. You press the start button and slide yourself onto the island of the kitchen while watching the delicious liquid fill into your mug. You swing your feet back and forth and think of last night and how drained katsuki seemed coming home from his mission. You decided you’d help him in starting him a cup of coffee after yours before heading for a shower. You hear the last bit of your coffee draining from the Keurig and you ease yourself down from the island and grab the mug carefully. After adding your creamer and sugar, you slowly stir the coffee and take a sip. The burn was a mix of pain and pleasure on your tongue and had a delicious burn all the way down your throat. You hum as you feel yourself begin to wake up more feeling last nights stress and exhaustion slowly melt away. You lean your elbows on the island and sip from your mug while peeking at your roommate who was cuddled up to a throw pillow that usually rest on the couch as decoration. You loved seeing him so peaceful and calm. Part of you yearned to be the pillow tucked snuggly to his lower abdomen, you thought of how warm and comforting it would be to wrapped in his strong arms. Your cheeks flushed red as your mind wondered to how it would also feel to have his morning glory pressed to your needy core. You sucked in a quick breath through your teeth, and decided it was definitely time for a cold shower as you felt the thoughts create a tightness in your stomach and made your thighs clench together. You place your now empty mug into the sink, and quickly set up the cup of coffee you had decided to make for katsuki. You are careful with your footsteps as you wonder to the bathroom grabbing a towel from the little closet across the hall before you waking in and closing the door behind you. You didn’t feel a need to lock the door because you both had become comfortable sharing a bathroom and apartment for so long you didn’t find it necessary. You hang your towel on the rack and take out your phone. You connect to the blue tooth speakers that were built into the walls in the shower. You start playing music loud enough for you to hear, but not loud enough to wake up katsuki. You strip away from your clothes dropping them to the floor in a pile, you’d pick them up after showering and put them in the hamper. Let your curls down from the messy bun you had thrown up before retreating to bed the night before, admiring how your hair has grown long and beautifully down to the curves of your hips and right at the dips on your back

above your bum. You turn the hot water on waiting for it to get to the right temperature before turning the cold to moderate it to a decent feel. You step into your open floor designed shower with clear shower doors. The water feels amazing washing away all the sweat and the rest of your fatigue from last nights events of chasing after villains. You drench yourself in the water before starting to wash yourself with the coconut smelling body wash katsuki had picked up for you the other day. One of your favorite songs filter through the speakers, and you can’t help but start to sway your hips silently singing along.

By this time katsuki had rolled off the couch having some crazy dream of fighting villains, and shocked himself awake. He jumped up hand out with small bursts sparking at his palm as he quickly looked around and scoped out the apartment. He slowly relaxed as he noticed no one was in the apartment and there was indeed no villains around. He’s face tinted pink as embarrassment flooded him. He then peeked around again making sure you didn’t see him while stretching his arms behind his head to play off his ridiculous reaction from a few moments ago. As he took a deep breath in while stretching he caught a whiff of the coffee you had put on for him earlier. He followed the smell in a daze to the kitchen and found his black mug with “number 1” in burnt orange letters across the side. He grabbed the cup carelessly and spilt some onto his sweatpants. He hissed and put the cup back onto the counter slightly irritated he couldn’t get his shit together this morning. He started mumbling to himself frustrated it now looked like he had pissed himself, or even better had a wet wild dream. He ran his hand over his blonde hair and down his face. He picked up the coffee and finished what was left in a few single gulps, and decided he’d thank you for the coffee and change out of his sweatpants afterwards. Knowing you both were still semi exhausted from last night he didn’t want to have an angry aggressive attitude because his start of the day, especially towards you. He put the mug in the sink noticing the mug you had chosen for your morning coffee. He smirked to himself. He loved when you used something of his or with his label on it. Anything involving him. It gave him a sense of pride. Katsuki was very possessive over you ever since you had became friends when you showed up to UA in second year. Just never in front of you directly. Only to the boys who ever dared say something about you to him behind your back. Especially the other boys in Bakusquad or even worse whenever Deku decided to make his sly comments about how he’d take you from katsuki and make you his. Make you a villain. It made his blood boil. He wanted to tell you how he felt so he could claim you as his for everyone to know who you belonged to. You were Dynamight’s girl. He loved the sound of that it gave him goosebumps and made his cock stir. He couldn’t resist you especially when you acted bratty towards him and never let his attitude phase you, or whenever you got dressed up to go to the club and wore his colors, or in the early mornings how you’d walk around in barely anything.. Katsuki groaned to himself and grabbed his half erection through his sweatpants and quickly remembered they were drenched in coffee. He snapped out of his thoughts and started to walk to your room to thank you for the coffee, but before he could reach your door he heard soft singing and music thumping from the bathroom. He stopped and back tracked to the bathroom door. He looked at the doorknob and noticed the steam coming from underneath the crack of the door. He slightly shrugged and twisted the handle to let himself in. As soon as he enter the foggy room he silently closed the door hoping to not alarm you. The smell of coconut flooded his senses and his hard on was growing fast as he thought of you using the body wash he chose specifically for you. He finally brought himself to look up at the shower doors and immediately stopped frozen in place. His breath hitched and he swallowed hard his Adam’s apple slowly bobbing. There you were twisting your body like a gypsy. Turning and rolling your hips slowly dipping down, you sensually danced to the music that steamed throughout the bathroom. His eyes dragged over your blurry body as the shower doors were not so clear to allow him to see all details of your body. He was basically drooling at the sight. His cock had instantly grown to full length straining against his damp sweatpants making his print more noticeable to see. You run your hands over your body from your chest to your thighs and back over your backside. He has to do something he

can’t stand it anymore he wanted those to be his rough calloused hands running over your silk caramel skin. He pulls his sweatpants off in almost one swift movement, boxers right with them. His manhood springing out and slapping his abs as he does so. He bites his lower lip and slowly steps towards the shower, he very quietly slides the door open and steps in.

You feel a quick feeling of cold air as your rinsing the conditioner out of your hair and body wash off your body. You get the feeling someone is watching you and you stop dancing. You’ve watched too many scary movies to not know this feeling. You open your eyes but to your surprise your roommate, the drop dead sexy Katsuki stands in front of you. You stare into his red eyes that are glazed in lust as he finally speaks up and says, “May I join you?” You’re speechless as you think maybe this is just another wild daydream. His eyes trail down your body following the few remaining soap duds as the flow off your skin to the shower floor. Your cheeks turn a bright shade of red as you then clutch over your breast and cup a hand over your hairless sex. He chuckles lowly and slowly reaches out to grab your arms and pull them away. His chuckle sends vibrations straight to your core as he says, “I just wanted to thank you for the cup of coffee but after seeing the way you can move I couldn’t resist.” He pulls your arms away from your body and you hesitate in letting him but them start to drop them away from you as you’re more confident in your body than what you used to be. He runs his hand down your arm to your hand and brings it to his chest. You let out a shaky breath and start to stutter out, “k-k-Katsuki, is this, real?” A huge grin spreads across his face and he takes your other hand away from your sex and brings it to his. Your eyes snap down to where your hand lays looking at the massive cock that your hand now rest on. He lets another a low growl type groan and steps closer leaning to your ear and whispers, “THIS is real. All of this is real, and it’s about time.” Your nipples harden and you drag your eyes away from the too good to be true masterpiece and look into his red orbs. He now looks you in your face and leans his forehead to yours, “I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve waited until I could take you and call you mine. You’re body is so perfect, you are so perfect. I can’t hold it in anymore. I want to fuck your tight little pussy and mark you as mine. Make you forget about any other man on this whole planet.” You clench at the words he says and your breathing has now turned into shallow breaths. You run your opposite hand down his chest feelings every dip of his abs and you start to shift your other hand grasping his dick. He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes you step into your tip toes and are so close to his lips you can feel his breath fanning your face. What leaves your mouth next takes him by total surprise. “Take me.”

Your lips clash together in a rough much needed kiss. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip asking for entrance as you open and let him in. Both of you twisting your tongues around in a swirl of mixed saliva as his hands reach around and take a firm grasp of your cheeks he got a perfect peek of while you reached for your mug earlier that morning. You moan into his mouth as he pushed you against the shower wall pushing his chest against your as your breast smashes into him. He leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your jaw and your neck until he finds your sweet spot. You start pumping at his erect cock as his finger swipes at your already soaked sex. He sucks and nibbles at the sweet spot on your neck creating a bruise as your sweet moans now fill the bathroom. He pulls away with a pop to give you a devious smirk and says “you’re already so wet for me huh you little slut” his words send goosebumps all over your body. He kneels down to the shower floor pulling his twitching manhood from your grip precum dripping from his red fiery head. He takes a nipple into his mouth as he twist the other with his opposite hand between his pointer finger and his thumb harshly pulling as he gently bites in the other. He leaves your nipples to leave a trace of bruises along your breast to show he and only him has been there. Has seen and tasted your caramel mounds. Your twisting your hips in a similar way as to when you were dancing but now in an urgency to have your needs met by this tease in front of you. As if he can read your mind he brings a hand up to rub the clit in a circular fast motion as he takes your nipple back into his mouth sucking hard and letting it pop out of his mouth. The lewd sound makes you whimper and he looks up at you through dangerous dark eyes “tell me what you want” you whimper as he starts to slow with your clit though you can feel your release building. You look down at him as he tweaks your nipple instead of sucking pulling and twisting. “I want you katsuki” “what do you want from me” “I want you to fuck me katsuki” he stands up abruptly and twist you around all in one quick second. He runs his long thick cock between your wet ass cheeks watching as the water continues to hit your back. You push into him arching your back hoping he’d finally give you what you needed desperately instead he pulls his cock away beginning to fist himself. You were about to look over your should as you feel a harsh slap land to your bottom. You let out a squeak as it took you by complete surprise. “You like that” you nod your head yes vigorously. Then another harsh slap this one hard than the last, “I said do you like that” you shake your head yes furiously as you barely can raise your voice high enough “y-y-yes katsuki please more” he rubs his hand over your now pink-red cheeks and dips his finger into your slick. You moan out as he sinks his single digit into your welcoming warm hole. “Your so tight” he groans and he grows impatient as he slides another finger in. He wraps his other hand around your chest caging your breast in with his forearm. He’s ready to sink into you but knows he has to give you time to adjust or he’ll split you open. He continues to pump his two fingers in and out of your slick as clench around him. Your shallow quick breaths let him know you’re close to your release. Just as he feels you about to cum he pulls his fingers out. Tears burning at the sides of your eyes you let your head drop and look at the shower floor where water, your slick and his precum mix. You let out a small growl and say “stop teasing me bakugou” he then releases his hold from around you and moves behind you pushing your chest to the shower wall. He wraps his hand around your curls and pulls hard pulling your face up so he can look at you. You look up into his red vermillion eyes as he peers down at you with somewhat of a scold. “I’ll guess I’ll have to fuck that bratty attitude out of you.” You don’t have time to respond before he’s shoving his length into you. You gasp and his hand leaves your hip where he was holding you to

put himself in and now wraps it around your throat his other hand never leaving the vice grip on your hair. The tears are now streaming down the sides of your face as you feel him stretching you open. He smirks, “that’s only have teddy bear.” He then shoves the remaining half in bottoming out in your sweet pussy. You open your mouth in a silent moan and your tongue hangs out as your eyes roll back. Katsuki loves seeing you like this, falling apart on his dick he already feels like filling you up with his seed. He slowly starts to pull out knowing he won’t last long. He rams back into you and continues the same movements. You’re moans are now louder than the music you have streaming. Your mouth still hanging open he then spits into it and you swallow not having any other choice. The action only makes you wetter as you gush around him. Katsuki let’s go of your curls to bring his hand down to start circling your clit bringing you back to your high from earlier. He moves his hand from your throat and drags it down your spine to the dip in your back and presses down making you arch further. He slaps your ass hard leaving a hand print. “Who’s pussy is this”

“Y-y-yours Katsuki.”

“Who’s little slut are you”

“Y-y-yours katsuki”

“Dynamight, call me dynamight”

You clench around him your orgasm rising quickly as he plays with your clit more agressive. He shuts his eyes tightly as his thrusts are turning sloppy. Your tightness is bringing him close and very fast. He runs his thumb down your crack and slowly pushes it to your ass as your both reaching your high. You let out a moan as he pushes his thumb into you. The pleasure of him rubbing your clit and filling both your holes sends you over the edge. “Dynamight!!” You scream as you cum so hard you feel like you might pass out. You cover him in your juices. Katsuki couldn’t hold on anymore as you squirted all over him and your legs start to shake. He couldn’t choose to paint you like a masterpiece or fill you with his seed but at this point it’s too late. He puts both hands on your hips and slams into you with his last remaining thrusts as you scream his hero name. He hits your cervix and paints your walls with his release. You both slump together.

He slowly pulls out of you and watches his cum drip out onto the shower floor. He runs a hand through his wet blonde mess of his hair and lets out a deep breath. You’re still trying to recuperate from everything that just happened your mind spinning. Katsuki seems concerned, you haven’t moved from the same spot. He hooks a finger underneath your chin and brings you to look at him. Him in all his glory. He smiles at you. “So will you be Dynamight’s girl?”

[tommyspeakycap]

again, your new john stones fic blew me away!!! Amazing. Please feel free to write about him all day every day!! <3

thank you again!! here’s another sweet one inspired by my own 1am experience tonight :) i wish I had a john stones

My hero

Your heart is quite literally thundering in your chest. There’s no feeling like it, this kind of fear that sticks you to the ground beneath your feet. You honestly feel like you can’t catch your breath, tears streaking down over your flushed cheeks as you hold your phone in your right hand with trembling fingers, one thumb finally letting go of the little microphone shaped drawing in your iMessages app. Even the whooshing sound of the message you knew was about to send to your best friend catches you off guard, making your shoulders clench and raise in fright.

“Are you seriously alright??”

She texts back, her confusion and teasing is something you know is laced into those letters across the screen creating a glow in the dim room. You roll your eyes at her, trying to keep your vision up while sending another voice note back; “No, seriously. Why does this only ever happen when I’m alone??”

“Probably because you live alone?” She replies back, and you curse yourself for a choice of friends who clearly have no empathy for what you consider to be a very serious situation. You know you won’t hear the end of this teasing once it’s all over. But the fear to you is all too real.

“(Y/n) I got your text! Came right here, are you alright?”

The sudden voice makes you literally clench your entire body, nearly shooting off the floor in fright and making one of those internalised fear noises that sounds like you just been attacked with a taser. You hear keys dropping down by the door and then a pause of his footsteps as you try to catch your breath. Your heart swells a little at the thought of him being here.

“John!” You yelp, your voice coming out something more like a strangled cry. The tall defender hears that sound and finds himself in panic, those long legs carrying him quickly and easily up the stairs of your small home until he spots you standing now in the doorway of your bedroom. He rushes towards you, seemingly checking you over for potential injuries the best he can in the darkness only broken by the lowest setting of flashlight on your phone. The first thing he notices when checking over your face with his hands is the wetness still making its way over your cheeks.

“Are you alright? what happened? Is there someone in there? Are you okay? Did someone hurt-“

You cut off his rambling with a finger over his lips, creating even more confusion for the fluffy haired brunette who had very clearly rolled himself out of bed to hurry over here. He was wearing shoes without socks, dirty shorts from training that he’d thrown off before going to bed only to pull back in to come to your, and an old sweater that usually sat somewhere downstairs in the closet closest to the door. It was obvious he had come in a wild rush the second he got your erratic message.

“It’s a wasp, John!” You whisper, as if the little creature that sitting on your lightbulb unwilling to move from the place you couldn’t reach and wouldn’t dare to even if you could, was able to hear you.

“A wasp?” John repeats incredulously. “Seriously?”

You nod vigorously, and and as much as the exhausted footballer wants to complain or even sigh at you, he doesn’t. Maybe he can’t. Because he’s got his arms around you and he definitely can feel you quivering against him. He had expected something more along the lines of a one night stand gone wrong or even someone breaking it, but as his consciousness began to catch back up with his previously very sleepy self, it made a lot more sense. In the event of a break in, you would probably have been bloody calmer than you are now to be honest. John had seen you after a pretty dangerous car crash completely still and relatively calm as you gave statements to police officers with blood still trickling down your face. But put an insect in your path and you scaled the closest thing to you for protection.

It just so happened that closest thing was often John Stones, and he was happy to be that person really.

It has become a norm between the two of you in the years you had been friends. Winter was the worst for spiders, but he generally didn’t mind the mildly irritating insects. He just got rid of them one way or another while you hid as far as you could get and then he’d come get you when the coast was clean. But you hated summer for this particular reason.

Wasps.

They fly in, fly into things and somehow never make it back on the window on their own despite it being the most easy thing one could ever imagine. Then, they try and sting you as if they aren’t in your house. They just creep you out, even the sight of them with their nasty little bodies. Bees aren’t a problem, they’re fuzzy looking and don’t intrude in your home nearly half as much. Also, they don’t try to sting you all the damn time.

“Where abouts?” He asks, his voice showing no hint of any destain or irritation he may harbour. “On the light,” you tell him shakily, following close to him back as you both enter the room. “Right up there- careful!”

John sniggers a little to himself, much to your dismay. He kicks off his shoes by your bedside table and climbs up onto the bed with ease on those ridiculously long legs. By luck, chance or both, he has some toilet paper in his hoodie pocket that he’d probably used to wipe his nose or something like that earlier, he can’t remember. He holds it out at arms length, only inches away form the unsuspecting black and yellow insect. “Where?” He asks again, “I can’t see anything.”

“There!” You insist, pointing up with a shaking finger. “I don’t see anything (y/n).” He repeats, making you whimper slightly, more tears suddenly appearing as you try to come to terms with the fact it might’ve moved while you were outside the room. The thought of having to sleep in your house while not knowing where it was would send you absolutely mental. “It was there I swear, look-“

“Ahhh, I got it. Stand back.”

He leans forward with relative ease, careful with the force he used so close to a live electric source and grips the buzzing creature in his tissue. “There we go,” he hums, stepping down from the bed. “All go-“

As if on cue, it flies out of the paper and you let loose a literal shriek as you dive backwards, crashing into the wall and then jumping forward in fright at that. “Woah!” John calls, “it’s alright, it’s right there. Calm, calm. Take a deep breath. Look,” he tries to calm you. That deep accent with his fatigue coating each word seeps into you, carefully calming your firing heart as he grabs it tighter from the floor, making sure he squashed it this time and immediately takes it to flush it down the toilet. John doesn’t know if you’re supposed to kill them or not, but at this moment in time he genuinely does not care. Was he fuck going to chase a wasp out of a window at half past one in the morning. Not a chance.

When he returns from the bathroom now empty handed, you still seem upset.

“That was scary.” You announce.

John smiles, pearly whites all on display. “I noticed.” He teases, making you scowl tiredly at him.

That scowl falters when his smile breaks into a light, soft laugh and he moves to stand in front of you. You absolutely don’t mind the fact that he’s babying you a little, using the sleeves of his sweater to wipe your cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and taking you into his strong arms. In fact, it’s very much welcomed. His arms are the safest place in the world to you and even the residual discomforted shivers from the concept of a wasp in your bedroom couldn’t get through that defender. He looks after a lot more than just the Manchester City goal line. No, he’s the sole defender of something much more precious that he doesn’t even realise.

Your heart.

“You okay now?” He asks softly, his tired voice rumbling through you. You nod against him, “Feeling a bit better. Thank you Stonesy.” You mumble, words muffled by the muscled chest that your face his resting against. “Anything for you, lovely.” He responds easily, pulling back from you in a way that aches his heart. The sudden lack of your warmth and presence against him is utterly brutal. He loves holding you, but hates it in the same breath. He would love to hold you if it was something he got to do freely instead of fleetingly.

His eyes are stuck watching you sit down on the edge of your bed to grab your phone and check the time with an element of shock rolling through your eyes when you realise it’s nearly two.

“You got training tomorrow?” You ask sweetly, a yawn following the tail end of your words adorable in a way that makes John’s heart flutter like a teenage boy. He nods, “Not till after dinner though, around 5.”

It’s your turn to nod, seeming to be chewing over something in thought as you lie down in the middle of your bed.

“Wanna stay then?”

John has to pretend to think about it at least a little bit so he doesn’t look like he’s jumping right up at the opportunity, which is exactly what he wants to do. “Why not,” he shrugs, chucking off his hoodie to the foot of your bed, “Scoot over.”

He clambers in, long limbs moving nowhere near as coordinated as they are on the pitch as he lays down by your right. It’s like a familiar dance, one you both know so well as you shuffle around so you can lay against his chest, one leg hooked over him as his arm wraps around you to pull you even closer. A silence falls between you as he feels your eyelashes fluttering shut, tickling his chest. He can’t find that same relaxation, can’t seem to shut his eyes for the thoughts flying through his mind all at once.

“I should teach you how to catch them.” John states, rumbling voice interrupting the peaceful quiet in which you had nearly found sleep. “You know, for the future.” He adds almost flippantly. Almost.

“Why?” You hum groggily, sleep croaking your voice ever so slightly. “I got you.”

John has to pretend your half asleep admission doesn’t send his heart flying into his throat. You do always have him, right there in the palm of your hand. Always.

“I don’t think other guys would appreciate me barging into their house in the middle of the night.” He suggests, making you quirk an eyebrow in question, but you still don’t look up at him and he isn’t even sure if you’ve got your eyes fully open. “No other guys here,” you state, “Single, living all alone.” You add lazily. The words almost make John wonder if he has fallen asleep, each one spoke playing straight into the dream he’s had for years for you to be his.

“Yeah, I know but…but there will be, at some point.” He suggests. You give no response for a moment and he briefly thinks you’ve fallen asleep at some point in this conversation.

“Bet those other guys wouldn’t come get rid of wasps for me in the middle of the night like you do.”

“Maybe,” John shrugs, “but I think there’s plenty of guys like that, especially for you.”

He feels you shake your head against him, your words decisive as you speak;

“There are no guys like you, John Stones.”

His words and his breath are caught on his throat, his heart erupting in his chest as he replays those words in his mind, trying to figure out if he had actually just heard them or if his tired mind was playing tricks on him because it was so late and he hadn’t had enough sleep.

But then you look up at him with tired eyes and a sweet smile. You know what you’ve just done, know the bomb you’ve just dropped and you’re hoping with everything crossed that he feels the same way.

“You’re my hero, Stonesy.” You say softly, your voice now a little sheepish and he can barely just make out the flush of your cheeks in the dim room lighting. “And I love you with everything I have.”

He doesn’t know what to say, his eyes wide as his heart beats as erratically as he had felt yours beating when he first arrived with fear coursing through his veins thinking you were in some kind of mortal peril.

“John?” You ask timidly, voice sheepish as you sit up in fear.

“Sorry,” he rumbles, pushing himself to a seated position, allowing him to lean forward and slide his hand around the back of your head to pull you into him, your lips crashing down onto his.

It’s just about everything he’s ever wanted.

“God I love you.” He says against your lips, a groan leaving his throat from pure satisfaction, pure relief of finally getting those words off of his chest. You giggle, resting back against his chest. “Can we sleep now, please?”

He nods, both of you shuffling so you can resume the position you had been in before a life changing confession that had spun you and the Barnsley brunette into the kiss that had been years in waiting. This was the happiest either of you had probably ever been.

“Guess we have the wasps to thank for this eh?” John lulls just as sleep is about to encompass you. He feels you shiver against him, the hairs on your arms immediately raising to attention at the mention of that which you hate so much.

“Don’t say that! That’s basically an invitation for them to invade my house!” You hiss, giving his chest a gentle swat as he pulls you closer to his side.

“Let them come,” he says almost triumphantly, “You got me now, always.”

You cosy yourself against him, a soft sigh of complete content and comfort tickling his chest as it dances across him. He feels that gentle smile that settles onto your gestures as your heavy eyes allow sleep to truly begin to take you.

“Always,” you mumble, words diluted by sleep “My hero.”

[wolferine]

Forgiven

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: One-shot sequel to my “Unforgivable” series. After being paralyzed in an accident, Natasha reunites with her lover who caused the accident in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, language

Word count: 2300

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13

AN: This one’s for you, @allhailthelesbian! :)

You do not have to read the previous story to follow this one!

Something shifts in your arms and you instinctively tighten them, feeling a tickle of hair across your nose.

“Y/N,” Natasha whispers, “You squeeze me any harder and I’m gonna choke to death.”

“Huh?” You loosen your arms and open your eyes, finding your red-haired, green-eyed beauty staring back at you.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning.” You close your eyes again and press your foreheads together.

“Ready for a workout?” she asks.

You chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those.”

She traces her finger over your bicep. While you’ve lost some weight in the past few months, you’ve still got some wiry strength, but you know you have some catching up to do. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” she says. “But my legs don’t even work and I’m not using that as an excuse.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. “Five more minutes?”

“Fine. Only because I need your help getting to the bathroom, anyway.”

“Oh.” Your eyes fly back open. Although Natasha’s been living with her condition for more than six months, it’s still your first week back with her and sometimes you forget her needs are different than before you left. “I can just get up now—” you start.

“It’s fine,” she says, pushing you back onto the bed as you try to sit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Ask me again in five minutes.” She snuggles closer to you and her breath is hot against your collarbone. You close your eyes again and feel her touch the starburst of a scar on your cheek from where her bullet had struck your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“When I fired my gun, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she says. “I just wanted to distract you. But then my bullet bounced off the pole and hit you in the face.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, knowing you’ve done far worse to her. A minor blemish was nothing compared to losing control of your legs.

Ten minutes later, Natasha announces she needs to use the bathroom. You sit up without being told twice and pick her up bridal-style, carrying her into the bathroom. Tony had made some modifications, such as adding handlebars near the toilet and inside the shower and lowering the medicine cabinet for easier access.

“Can you bring my wheelchair in? So you don’t have to keep carrying me back and forth,” Natasha asks as you help situate her on the toilet.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“But I do,” she says.

Without argument, you move her wheelchair from the bedroom to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me,” you say, closing the door and going to change into a tank top and shorts. When you’re done, you hear water running in the sink and can’t help asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Uh-huh! Jus’ brushin’ my teef!”

“Okay! Take your time.” You don’t want to be overbearing but you want to be ready to help when she needs it. Tony had talked to you about how independent she was; she insisted on learning how to do everything for herself, not liking the help of caregivers or nurses. 

Obviously, she was more comfortable asking you for help than a stranger, but you knew her well enough to know that she hated showing any signs of vulnerability, even if she really needed help.

Natasha rolls out of the bathroom and you trade spots with her, using the toilet and brushing your teeth. When you come out, she’s by the closet with her back towards you. She has on a workout shirt and struggles to pull a pair of shorts up her legs.

“Do you need some help?” you ask. Tony had told you to always ask first instead of jumping right in.

“Yes, please.” Natasha sighs. The shorts are hooked around her feet. “It’s…It’s a little hard for me to reach sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You kneel and shimmy the shorts over her knees. 

“Can you pick me up so I can pull them on?” she asks.

“Sure.” You wrap your arms under hers and gently lift her high enough for her to pull the shorts up to her hips.

“Thanks.” You set her back down and help her put her shoes on. “All ready?”

“Let’s go.”

You go down to the Avengers’ state-of-the-art gym, containing every single piece of workout equipment you’re humanly aware of. There are weights up to the ton and a 12-foot deep Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“What did you have in mind today?” you ask as you walk next Natasha. She rolls suspiciously close to the swimming pool and you wish you could squeeze yourself on the other side of her to make sure she doesn’t fall in.

“Leg day,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Kidding!” Natasha laughs when suddenly, her wheelchair catches on the end of a loose pool noodle someone had left out and she launches from her wheelchair into the pool. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, you would’ve cried from laughter, but instead your heart drops to your feet and you jump into action—literally.

“Nat!” you scream, diving in headfirst. Underwater, you open your eyes, letting the chlorine burn into them, and see the blurry shape of Natasha bobbing up to the surface. You swim towards her and when lift your head to take a breath, you find her howling in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” you ask, coughing up a mouthful of water.

“I’ve been swimming every day since the accident, babe,” she says, doing a much better job of treading water than you. And she doesn’t even have use of her legs. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Well, I might.” Your head dips under and you swallow a mouthful of water. Natasha wraps her hand around your arm and yanks you up.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Haven’t…swam…in a while,” you choke.

“So, you thought you could jump in and save me when you can barely save yourself?” Natasha shakes her head, but admires your blinding love for her. She drags you over to the wall and grabs the pool noodle. “Use this.” 

You bend the noodle under your arms, grateful for the moment of rest.

“Okay, let’s go do a few laps now!” She paddles away before you can protest. Grudgingly, you kick after her.

***********************************************************************

An hour later, you’re so exhausted you can barely walk and you’re tempted to ask Natasha if she’ll let you sit on her lap while you go back up to your room.

“Shower together?” Natasha asks, and there’s a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Sure.” You’ve already seen there’s plenty of room for the both of you. First, you get Natasha settled into her shower chair before you turn around and take your dripping workout clothes off.

It’s the first time she’s seen you naked since you left. Her eyes trace over the visible bones of your ribs and the scars crisscrossing your back. There’s a burn in the shape of a triangle on the back of your left shoulder, where Hammer had tried to brand you with his logo. Because he didn’t see you as a person, but his property.

Natasha knows that although she’s had a difficult past six months, you had been in your own hell.

You turn towards her and see the sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

She doesn’t say anything and offers her hand, pulling you into the shower. You turn on the water, removing the showerhead from the wall to spray over the both of you. There is nothing sexual in any of your actions as you help each other shampoo your hairs and wash your bodies. However, the closeness is still intimate and comforting.

Afterwards, you both dry off and get dressed, going into the kitchen for breakfast. Falling back into a routine with your girlfriend—even after six months—is the easiest thing you ever did. But even though it’s almost like you never left, things aren’t exactly the same, and you want to make up for the lost time as much as you can.

***********************************************************************

When lunchtime rolls around, Natasha suggests taking you to your favorite diner. You haven’t driven a car in six months, so you’re a little nervous when you go down to the garage, until Natasha insists that she’ll drive instead. She takes you over to her black Corvette Stingray, which never fails to make you whistle.

You help her into the driver’s seat, noticing the specialized hand control Tony installed so she could work the pedals with a hand lever. You make a mental note to thank him again for being so generous in caring for your girlfriend in your absence. When you sit in the passenger seat, it feels just like old times.

“Don’t crash,” you tease.

“Oh, please,” Natasha scoffs. “I can’t even use my legs and I’m still a better driver than you.” 

“Ouch.”

You watch as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her left hand while her right hand pushes and pulls on the handle for the brake and gas pedal.

“You look so badass,” you say.

She looks at you and smiles. “I know.”

“I think I’ll just have you drive me around from now on.” You close your eyes and relax in the seat.

When you arrive at the diner’s parking lot, Natasha skips over the blue handicapped stalls and parks across from them.

“You don’t want to park there?” you ask, pointing to an empty blue stall.

She shakes her head. “Maybe someone else needs it more than me,” she says. “After all, they don’t have you to carry them around.” She tries to make a joke out of it, but you can tell she’s a little embarrassed. It’s also the reason she’s so hesitant to drive her Corvette around: most people who see it assume she’s a jackass trying to take advantage of a handicapped spot.

She’s had people scratch her doors and leave ugly notes on the windshield. One time, before she even had the chance to get out of the car, a group of people had gathered at her door to cuss her out. Their red faces of embarrassment and stuttered apologies when Tony helped her into her wheelchair was something she would never forget.

You get her wheelchair out of the trunk and set it next to her door, helping her into it. Inside the restaurant, the waitress removes one of the chairs at your table so Natasha can sit next to you. You don’t even bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what you want.

You end up finishing all of your food and Natasha’s leftovers, and she can only laugh at your appetite.

“Hammer didn’t you feed you enough?” she teases.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff he gave me can’t even be counted as food,” you respond.

“Before we go home, I want to take you somewhere special,” she says as you leave the restaurant. “I visit it once a week.”

“Let’s do it.”

She drives you to a high school. But since it’s the weekend, the parking lot is empty except for a few cars. Natasha takes you inside. As you go down the hall with her, she grabs onto your hand.

“You don’t need both hands to roll?” you joke.

“I just like being close to you,” she says. Her wheelchair is at the perfect height that you don’t have to strain your shoulder lower to hold her hand. She directs you into a classroom, and when you step inside, you see some people already there. 

They’re all in wheelchairs.

You suddenly feel angry at Natasha for bringing you here. Was she trying to make you feel even more guilty for what you had done to her? These people were all going through their own pain, and here you were having caused that exact same pain to your own lover.

“Hey, everyone,” Natasha says with a confidence in her voice you haven’t heard yet. “This is my partner I’ve told you all about, Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N!” they chorus. You cringe, wondering how much of yourself Natasha told them. Some of them are like her, paralyzed from the waist down, while others move their wheelchairs around by blowing into tubes or pressing a remote hanging from their necks.

You move out to the hallway and Natasha follows you.

“Why did you bring me here?” you whisper, your stomach churning. You feel like you’ve intruded on something private, something you don’t have the right to be a part of. “What were you thinking—” 

“Please stay,” she begs. “They’re all my friends, and some of them bring their partners along, too. It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We tell stories and learn how to get through things together.

“My condition changed everything for me, but it’s also a change for you. I want to make sure you get the support you need. Because there’s not just two of us in this relationship anymore,” she continues, and you raise your eyebrow. “It’s me, you, and my condition.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m your burden or you’re my caregiver. I’m still the same as I always was. I can’t do everything myself and I might need your help. It’s just a different kind of help than before.”

You kneel and cup her face. “I love you, Nat. I’ll be here for you, whenever and whatever you need,” you promise.

She leans forward to kiss you. “I know.”

And with that kiss, you feel her forgiveness wash over you, cleansing you of the guilt and trauma of what you did. She had already forgiven you, a long time ago. You couldn’t continue to be so hard on yourself if you wanted the relationship to work. 

You know it won’t be an easy journey, and it’s only the beginning, but with Natasha by your side again, you feel completely unstoppable.

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

AN: I was definitely nervous writing this as I have little experience working with people with paralysis, so I did some research and hope I did it justice! If there’s anything out of place, please let me know. :)

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time…

[turtle-steverogers]

hii, it's the unsent project anon again!! sometimes i think about steve. instead of going back in time for yk, he goes back in time to see his mother again. and has a dance with his mother because he never got to before for several reasons. it would be more rocking from foot to foot than anything else. and steve can barely see through his clumped up lashes from the tears while she strokes the side of his head before cradling it (its a bit of a stretch because he is all big and healthy now) while muttering, "my stevie, my boy" and steve just grins "it's me, ma".

(he would come back after spending some time with her, with a heavy heart but still)

was thinking about this at like 3 in the morning

anon i genuinely think you're trying to murder me lakjdflksjfaskdjflksf

anyway i wrote another fic

-

There are extra white jackets in the back closet, and Steve steals one that’s approximately his size, despite the shoulders being a bit too tight. Pants are a little harder to come by, but he manages to find a pair that look like they’ll fit him in some poor chap’s locker. He tugs them on, grimacing at the way they hug his thighs and fall only to his ankles. They’ll have to do.

He’d already scoped out the hospital the night before-- he knows she’s on the third floor in a private ward. Good, he thinks. She deserves it, if nothing else.

He is focused as he moves through the halls, head down as he passes other nurses. There’s a clipboard discarded on a table near the children’s ward and he swiftly picks it up, squinting at it. He doesn’t process any of the words on the page, but his act seems sound, because nobody stops him.

He makes it to the stairwell at the end of the hall, pushes open the door and takes the steps two at a time. The smell is one that is achingly familiar-- the walls grey and hazy. The air seems thicker, the lights yellow and dim. And though he’s been removed from the past for over a decade, it still feels like home. Like normal. His normal.

But he does not belong anymore, and he will not stay. He’s already been a ghost once. He’s hesitant to be one again.

Especially now, when he is out there somewhere. Most likely in the shitty tenement he shared with Bucky, but also possibly at the grocer he worked at, his ma’s telegram in his pocket. Savoring the bits of her that he could salvage with the knowledge he’d never see her again, even while she’s alive.

Closure has been something Steve always felt he lacked. But he’s seen hell now-- lived in its fiery pits for more years than he can count. He can take some goddamn closure for himself.

The third floor is nearly vacant. No one is in the hallway when Steve steps out of the stairwell, but he can hear voices in the rooms that line the sides. Coughs echo ominously off the walls, and Steve’s toes curl in his shoes, a brief wave of anxiety washing over him. He hadn’t missed these hospitals, and he’d hoped to never deliberately step foot in one again. But this is necessary. This is worth it.

He walks swiftly towards the end of the hall where the private wards are and stops in front of the first room. The name next to the door is incorrect, so he continues on until he sees it, heart stopping in his chest, then speeding up enough to make his lungs tighten.

Sarah Rogers-- TB. Alternative uniform required.

Steve closes his eyes against the blood rushing from his head. He wants to tell himself it’s been so long since he’s felt this detached from reality-- this out of place in a space that should feel so familiar-- but it hasn’t. The feeling, he’s realizing, never truly left him when he woke up from the ice, and the reverse here is strange.

And there’s something even stranger about reconciling this, because he’d lost his ma far before he’d ever died. This grief is an old wound-- one that’s scabbed over only to bleed circumstantially. He’d grown used to living with this particular, bone deep pain. He isn’t sure if he’s here to lance that, or if he’ll walk away with a deeper wound. He isn’t sure it matters, either.

He pushes open the door.

The room is lit with natural light. There is a desk with a vase and a water pitcher on it, along with a few medicine bottles and a tissue box. The bed is pressed against the far wall, the covers barely disturbed save for the frail figure that lies in it.

Sarah turns her head and looks at Steve.

Steve’s world stops.

He hadn’t seen his ma when she was this ill. His last memories of her are of when she was healthy-- cheeks red and full of life, eyes alight with an optimism he still valiantly tries to uphold. Life had not been kind to Sarah Rogers, but she was the kindest soul Steve had ever known, even in the shadow of his father’s violence.

Is, he corrects himself as he looks at her. She is the kindest soul. She’s there. She’s right there.

She’s right there, and she looks weak. She is gaunt and frail, eyes sunken in and cheekbones sharp against papery looking skin. There’s an exhaustion in the lines of her young face that Steve recognizes as the long standing effects of illness-- your body praying to be done fighting while your mind begs otherwise.

Steve resists the urge to turn and run.

Sarah’s face does something strange as she looks at Steve, and he realizes that he’s been standing there for longer than would be normal for a nurse-- shell shocked and silent. She opens her mouth to say something, then stops, eyes widening as she seems to process what she’s looking at. Or who she’s looking at, most likely.

A wizened hand comes up to cover her mouth and she gasps, fear flashing through her eyes and no, no, no--

Fuck, he’d thought of this. He’d had a fucking plan for this, but he can’t remember it now and he really doesn’t want his ma calling security on him, because he has so much to say, and--

“Ma,” he says frantically, taking an aborted step forward. She shies away and he stops, hands flexing at his sides. “Ma, it’s me. I swear it’s me, I can explain.”

Sarah looks suddenly furious. “This is not funny, young man. I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave this instant.”

Fuck, her voice. Her goddamn voice, as weak as it is now, still has the same strong cadence. The subtle Irish twang. And fuck, Steve can’t help it. He bursts into tears.

“Fuck,” he says, falling to his knees. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think he could stomach the weight of everything that’s happened since he last saw her-- handle standing in front of her with blood on his hands, underneath his fingernails. In his goddamn soul. What would she even think of him now?

He sobs, biting down on a knuckle to keep silent, his other arm going around his stomach. It’s how he used to cry when he was much younger, and more frantic, and that seems to convince Sarah more than anything.

“Steven?” she says. She sounds incredulous. Damnit, she probably thinks she’s hallucinating. Steve had hallucinated a couple times when he was ill enough and his fever was high. Mostly his father, but he’ll digress.

He looks up, and he can barely see her through the tears that clump on his eyelashes. Sarah’s face does something complicated, then softens, and she reaches out a hand. Steve looks at it and sobs harder.

“Oh, Stevie. My boy, come here,” she says, because maybe he is a goddamn hallucination, but her instinct was always to comfort those in pain. She was a nurse, after all.

Steve is goddamn helpless.

He manages to get to her bedside, chest heaving as he buries his face in her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “It’s me, ma. I promise it’s me. I can explain, I swear.”

“I don’t doubt that you can explain,” Sarah says sternly, and fuck, he’d missed her chastising him. He can’t help it, he laughs, breathless and watery. “What happened to you? Why are you--” Big. Healthy. “Steven, you can’t be in here. I’m highly contagious.”

Steve shakes his head. “Don’t matter. I can’t get sick.” And oh, his accent is back. He hasn’t had one in years. Decades. A goddamn century.

Sarah lets out a strangled laugh that quickly turns into coughing, and Steve briefly wonders how close she is to death. She died in Winter, and it is sometime in Fall right now. Close then, he thinks. He hugs her harder as the coughing dies down.

“A stór, do you hear yourself? You had pneumonia last Summer.”

Summer. Last Summer. In this world, it had only been a mere few months without her. A fresh wave of grief washes over Steve, and then he can’t help another laugh, then another, and suddenly he’s cracking up into her stomach. Laughing like the insane man he feels he often is.

Sarah freezes, then reaches out to lift his face, their eyes meeting. His laughing stops. She gasps again.

“It really is you,” she murmurs, thumbs moving to the outside corners of his eyes, where there are two identical freckles. Little stars, she used to call them.

Steve offers her a brave smile. “Yeah, ma. It is.”

Sarah shakes her head. “What happened?” she asks again.

“I… so much,” Steve breathes. “I don’t know how to explain it all. I-- I don’t know where to start, but god, I just wanted to see you. I needed to see you.”

Sarah studies his face. “You’re so tired,” she says, thumb stroking his eye again. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. His lip trembles.

“So tired,” he agrees.

“You don’t need to tell me everything,” Sarah says. “I’m not sure I want to know. But I just… Steven, you look so different.”

Steve laughs, wiping at his eyes. “In a few years, there’s a war,” he says. Blunt-- they’d always been so straightforward with each other. “A scientist-- god, please don’t be mad-- a scientist offered, or… offers? Offered me an opportunity, and I took it.”

“Of course you did,” Sarah murmurs, looking fond and angry despite. She seems to set that train of thought aside. “Germany?” and oh, right. It’s already been in the news, the new reign.

“Yeah.”

Sarah hums. “My dear, you look like you’ve seen more than just war.”

Just war. As if any war was just anything.

As if his war ever truly stopped.

He casts his gaze down.

“Yeah,” he says again, and he thinks of Bucky, who’s also yet to come home from the war. Bucky, who is probably somewhere at the docks right now, untouched by anything but insecurity and financial hell. He desperately wishes they both can soon. This visit, he hopes, will bring him one step closer.

Sarah must read his mind, because her face clouds over.

“Bucky…?”

“Survives,” Steve says quickly, then backtracks. “Kind of. We both kind of died, then came back to life in the future and--” Sarah looks horrified now, and Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. He’s alive. We’re together.”

“Alright,” Sarah says slowly. “As long as you’re together.”

Steve nods, and fuck, he wishes he could have brought Bucky, too. Sam as well-- showed his ma his new friends. The brave new family he’s made for himself. The thought has his eyes swimming again, and he screws up his face, trying not to cry. He’s a goddamn mess. It’s ridiculous.

“I must admit, I’m quite confused,” Sarah says. “And sweetheart, you’re not talking.”

Steve shakes his head, and her arms come around him. He melts into the hold-- savors the feeling. Memorizes the pressure, her smell, and pockets it away for later.

“I just missed you so much is all,” he croaks. “And I-- ma… I’ve done so much. I’ve hurt so many people. Killed so many people, and I still feel so lost, and everything hurts and oh Christ, I’ve just-- I miss you.”

He had sworn to himself, before coming in, that he wouldn’t unload any of this onto her. But her warmth is all encompassing, and he craves her comfort. Her approval. Her strong, sure tone telling him everything will be okay.

That he will be okay. He has to be. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if he’s not.

“Lord’s name,” Sarah murmurs, and Steve huffs another laugh. She runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to you. I don’t know how any of this is possible, but I do know you, dearheart. And I know that you are a good person. A gentle person-- my gentle boy, if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen violence. But you know more than anyone how mean the world can be. You might have had to make hard decisions, done bad things, but you, Steven, are not bad.”

Steve’s lips part. It doesn’t fix everything, the words-- it barely scrapes the surface of the wall of pain and guilt that suffocates him. But for a moment, the world seems clearer. Quieter. The ache in his chest lanced for one, freeing breath.

“Ma…” Steve says. He doesn’t know how to thank her-- what to say-- because here she is, offering him warmth and closure, even though she might still think he’s nothing but a figment of her imagination. He craves her compassion; her generosity. Swears to uphold it as best he can.

You always stand up, she once told him. He will still, he thinks. He always will. And he will now.

He’ll go home to his family-- his life-- and goddamn live finally. He’s been surviving for so long, he realizes. It’s about damn time for him to stand up and live.

“You’ve still got the same heart,” Sarah continues. She pokes his freckles again. “I can see it in your eyes.”

Steve lifts a hand to cover hers. Her hands are as soft as they always were and he turns his face to kiss her knuckles, then leans forward to kiss her cheek, eyes closing as memories of doing that before running off to school or to play flash through his mind. She smells faintly of vanilla. He wonders if she still dabs it behind her ears.

“Thank you,” he says. “Thank you, ma. I love you. I love you so much-- thank you for being there for me. For raising me, and loving me.”

Sarah hugs him. Outside the room, there are voices; shuffling. He needs to go. The window is open, and they’re only three floors up.

“Loving you is the easiest thing that I’ve ever done,” Sarah says. She looks at the door. The voices are closer now. She kisses his forehead. Another echo of a life long gone. “Go now, Steven. Go home.”

Steve looks at her one last time, drinking in the love in her eyes. And as he climbs out the window, the too-tight doctor’s coat ripping around the shoulder seams, he can’t help but think that he’d gotten her eyes right whenever he’d painted her.

Her love won’t be something so easily forgotten.

-

Bucky catches him before he can collapse as he reappears on the launch pad. He lowers them to the ground, cradling Steve’s head with and letting him practically climb into his lap as he weeps, overwhelmed.

After a few minutes, he pulls back. Bucky’s watching him, concerned, and Steve leans in to gently kiss him.

“Steve?” Bucky asks, wary as they pull apart. He reaches out to swipe some tears off Steve’s cheeks.

Steve shakes his head. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he says. “All the stones are back-- everything’s okay. It’s over. It’s all over.”

Relief washes over Bucky’s face and he kisses Steve, smiling. “Oh god,” he murmurs. “Thank god.”

Steve wraps his arms around his neck, humming in agreement. Sam and Bruce are somewhere-- Steve can hear them talking-- but it’s distant.

They’re quiet for a long time, breathing in each other. Bucky’s arms feel so goddamn safe that Steve feels his resolve slipping again. He can tell Bucky things. He can be here with him now. Home.

“I went to see her,” he whispers.

Bucky stills where he was previously rocking them lightly.

“Her…” Bucky says, then shifts. “Your ma?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh,” Bucky squeezes him tighter. “How-- how was that? How did she…”

“She was confused. I don’t even know if she knew I was real.”

Bucky pauses, then kisses behind his ear. Steve thinks of vanilla again.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs.

“No, it was-- good. Needed. I feel… good.”

“That’s so good, honey.”

“She asked about you-- wanted to know if you were, um, alive. I told her you were.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, and there’s a small smile on his face now. Bucky had loved Sarah as if she were another mother, and Steve had done the same with Winnifred. It was a privilege to have had both of their protective arms. “What did she say?”

“She said, ‘as long as we’re together’.”

Bucky smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. Steve wants to reach out and touch, so he does, because he can do that now. Bucky is tangible. He is here.

“She’s got a point,” Bucky says. He goes back to rocking them and Steve rests his head on his shoulder. He hears Bucky start to say something, then stop.

“What?” he asks, pulling back.

Bucky studies him. “Did you want to stay?” It isn’t accusatory, just curious, and Steve considers it.

“Maybe a little,” he admits. “Just… instinctively. It’s an opportunity I might have taken up if someone offered it ten years ago, but… I’m a ghost there now, like I was a ghost here, and I don’t want to do that again.” He bites his lip, shaking his head. “I can’t. I wouldn’t be able to.”

Bucky nods, cupping Steve’s cheek and thumbing his jaw affectionately. “I hear you,” he says. “I was just wondering.”

“And besides, my ma told me to go home before I left,” Steve said, cupping Bucky’s cheek in return. “So I did.”

Bucky smiles, and presses their foreheads together.

“We can do that now,” Bucky says. “We can go home. We can rest.”

And there are still things to do-- Steve doesn’t think there ever won’t be things to be done. But that can wait for another day.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He’s grungy, dirt digging in bone deep from the whirlwind of the last few weeks. He smirks, climbing off Bucky’s lap. “But I call first shower.”

Bucky snorts and stands, pulling Steve up.

“Yeah, whatever, asshole.”

Yeah. The world can wait another day.

-

There’s a bottle of vanilla in the spice cabinet. Steve sees it as he’s looking for the cinnamon. The kitchen is empty, but for the first time in years, he knows he’s not alone.

He takes the vanilla out and dabs some onto his fingers, gently rubbing it behind his ears. He closes his eyes, letting the smell wash over him. He can still feel his ma’s arms around him, keeping him warm.

Home. He’s home.

-

thanks for reading yall aflkdjflaksjdf

[chudleycanonficfest]

Stars in the Night Sky

Day 3, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Stars in the Night Sky

Author: adenei

Pairing: Jily (James Potter x Lily Evans)

Prompt: Stargazing

Rating: PG

TW: None :)

****************

The castle is peaceful as it nears midnight, a calm surrender to the usual bustling halls during the day. Rounds ended over an hour ago, but the quick pair of footsteps was not rushing through a late shift, they were on their way to the Astronomy Tower to meet their partner and begin Professor Sinistra’s constellation project. 

Allocation of the work was all in the luck of the draw. Where one half of the class drew a name, and the other pulled the astronomical phenomenon they were to study. Lily Evans had pulled the piece of parchment on stars and constellations, and according to the project’s outline, she and her partner would be tracking Orion, Cassiopeia, Gemini, and Canis Major for the next two weeks.

The project left Lily questioning why she chose to pursue the subject after passing her O.W.L.s. Maybe it was because she has always been fascinated by the subject, or maybe it’s for the sole fact that Astronomy is one of the subjects she can discuss with her family since it relates closely to muggle sciences. Regardless, she’s not sure it’s worth the lack of sleep she’s about to endure over the next few weeks.

As Lily climbs the steps of the Astronomy Tower, her heart thunders in her chest with anticipation about who her partner will be. The class is small, with only ten students, but she didn’t bother to hang around and discuss ‘who had who’ at the end of class. She had a meeting with Professor McGonagall about her Head Girl duties and couldn’t be bothered to worry about who her partner was. 

But now, after finding out through Mary that she’s been paired with Remus and Sirius pulled Benjy Fenwick’s name, Lily is nervous. Rumblings at dinner also confirmed that Calliope Forsythe of Hufflepuff was disappointed that she chose Bridgette Marls’s name instead of James’s, leaving Lily sweating the remaining possible outcomes. She doesn’t want to jinx it by getting her hopes up that James may have pulled her name out of the cauldron, and she’s mad at herself for wanting it so desperately.

We already spend enough time together with our Head duties. Plus, we’re friends now, so we can hang out whenever we like...just not alone.

Her last thought is only a partial lie, considering they’re ‘alone’ when creating schedules for rounds, but it never fails that some fifth or sixth-year students are always barging in to use the Prefect’s lounge to study, ruining any potential chance for either to make a move. Even when they’re on rounds, their conversation is constantly interrupted by catching a couple in a broom closet or empty classroom. 

Lily lets out a huff of frustration as she recalls the last time, when she was sure he was about to ask her to Hogsmeade, but then there was a loud clatter from a room up ahead, breaking the moment. So really, it’d be ideal if James were her partner for this project. She’s sick of the song and dance they’ve been playing since the start of term and wants nothing more than to find out whether he still fancies her or not. After all, it’s only a matter of time that some other girl will swoop in, causing his devilishly handsome smile to be trained on them instead.

As Lily approaches the foot of the stairs leading up to the observation room, she checks her watch. 11:59. Right on time. She holds her breath during the entire stair climb, and only when she rounds the corner to the dimly lit area with one singular candle on the table to take notes, does she see him. He’s leaning over the table, the light illuminating his messy black hair as his glasses slip down his nose. The sleeves on the white shirt of his uniform are rolled up to his elbows, exposing the sinewy muscles of his forearm as Lily stands there, getting lost in a daydream that finds those arms wrapped around her body.

The hoot of an owl in the distance snaps her out of her thoughts as she takes a few steps closer.

“I hope you haven’t started without me.” 

Lily’s light chiding gets James’s attention as a wide smirk dons his face. Her insides tremble as her heart pounds faster in her chest.

“How can I get started if I don’t know what we’re supposed to be looking at,” he remarks, eliciting a nervous laugh from her chest.

“Yeah, sorry for not sticking around after class. I had another appointment.”

“Well, I hope my reveal isn’t too much of a shock.”

“Better you than Mulciber or Avery,” she teases. “Why didn’t you ask Professor Sinistra what topic I pulled after you gave your information and got our timetable?”

James walks around the table to join her as she pulls out the project guidelines. She assumes he would have known what they were studying, considering everyone had to check-in and get their schedules from Professor Sinistra. Depending on what the group has chosen, their research times varied.

“Because I thought we were going for the surprise factor,” his cheeky grin matches the lightness in his voice. “Besides, I figured it’d be another excuse to pore over the parchment in close proximity.”

Lily searches the space next to her to see just how close James is before meeting his gaze. She becomes dizzy from the scent of his cologne, with hints of cinnamon and sandalwood invading her sense of smell. If she gives in to temptation now, they won’t accomplish anything on their first night.

Work first, play later.

Strengthening her resolve, Lily makes a swift turn and heads for the telescope. “We’re responsible for tracking the four constellations that are listed on the first page. I’ll see which one I can find first and we’ll go from there. We can take turns tracing, and observing if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure, I’ll get the parchment set up,” James agrees.

Lily’s not sure, but she thinks she may have heard a hint of disappointment in his tone. She pushes the thoughts aside and peers into the massive telescope that’s bolted down in the center of the room. It doesn’t take long to find Jupiter, and from there, she’s able to see a handful of the stars that make up Orion. The belt is the most prevalent as she takes mental notes to transfer on the paper.

Settling into a steady hum of working together, the pair take turns between the telescope and table, making light work of the night’s observations. When Lily checks her watch again, she realizes they’ve finished with time to spare. She wanders over to the railing, and even though she’s spent the better part of the last ninety minutes studying the stars, she finds herself looking up to the sky once more. Only this time, she’s stargazing with only the naked eye. 

She feels James approaching before he arrives at her side, gazing up at the twinkling stars among the backdrop of black and midnight blue.

“We make a pretty good team.” Her voice is soft as it carries through the air between them.

Lily’s exhaustion is prevalent as her eyelids become heavier, but she can’t be bothered to move away from James’s side. Not yet, anyways.

“You haven’t gathered that from our flawless round schedules and seamless Prefect meetings we’ve run so far as Heads?”

Lily can’t help the smile that creeps across her lips. He’s playing into her words in the exact way she was hoping for. “Of course, I’ve noticed. I was just thinking out loud…” she trails off, hoping she’s got him hooked and wanting to know what else she’s about to say.

“About what?” Barely a second passes before the question leaves his mouth.

She drags her teeth over her bottom lip as she looks up at him. Here goes nothing.

“Just about how our teamwork might work in other respects, too.”

His lips part as she hears a sharp intake of breath. “Evans,” he warns as he inches ever closer to her face.

“Potter,” she challenges right back.

They are mere centimeters away from each other now, and it’d be so easy to close the gap between them. James seems to have frozen in front of her as she finds herself leaning up on her tiptoes to press a feather-light kiss to his lips. She pulls away, not wanting to push her luck.

When he doesn’t move after she pulls away, her heart sinks. Lily grabs her bag and turns to head back to the common room. Clearly, I was mistaken.

“Sorry, I just thought—” but she never finished her apology.

Her foot grazes the top step of the staircase before a warm, strong hand wraps around her wrist and pulls her back, where she hits a wall of muscle. Her lips are on his again, and this time he’s kissing her back as her arms snake around his shoulders and her foot lifts off the ground of its own accord. 

James Potter is kissing me!

The moment only lasts a few moments before they pull apart, their breathing heavy under the starry night.

James breaks the silence after a minute. “So, er, Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Lily grins as she backs away slightly, leaving him standing there as she heads toward the stairs for the second time. She flashes a ‘come and get me’ look. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[rogerslovesstark]

No More Love

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Sharon x fem!reader [platonic, for now ;)]

Word Count: 2,020

WARNING: ANGST, mean Steve, Sharon being a sweetheart because she is portrayed negatively, I've done it but girls support girls!

“Steve, where are you going?” You ask quietly, scared of his response because it seemed that he was always on the verge of exploding when you spoke to him. You felt like you were walking around eggshells whenever you were around him. 

Ever since he came back from Bolivia, he was constantly angry when he was around you. You noticed something was off when the night he came back, you tried to give him a massage and he jerked himself away from you. That was two months ago, and he was away for almost three months.

You wrote it off as him being tired and annoyed from the almost failed mission. However, as days continued, Steve kept keeping a cold shoulder to you. Avoiding you in the tower, skipping on date nights saying that he had mission reports to file, sleeping in the tower instead of coming home.

It was almost like he didn’t love you anymore.

Steve saw you approaching him in the tower, he also noticed that there was no way of avoiding you without causing a scene. So he just let you come to him, the new trainees in awe of the two superheroes who were supposedly madly in love with one another. 

You beamed at your boyfriend, he had just come back from Bolivia a few days ago and you hadn’t had the chance to speak with him properly, Steve was constantly swarmed in paperwork because of the operation. 

You knew that he was stressed when he didn’t want to have sex after his mission, but you also didn’t want to force it on him. It was odd that you wouldn’t want to have sex after two months away from your girlfriend, only having jerked off while on the trip. You had doubts that Steve remained loyal to you during the mission but you hid them deep in yourself because you didn’t want to doubt the loyalty of Steve.

Steve faked a smile when he saw you walk over to him, just to keep appearances with everyone around them. He hugged you loosely and quickly pulled away, not making many conversations with you and then excusing himself claiming he needed to speak with Fury about something important. 

You stood in the hallway, visibly upset that your lover wouldn’t spend five minutes with you.

You were starved of basic affection from your boyfriend. You didn’t even know what you did wrong.

Steve was on his way out the door when he heard you ask him where he was going. Just hearing you ask him where he was going angered him so much. You were acting like his mother all the time, so needy and annoying. 

“Out Y/n, why? Do you need anything?” He asked trying not to blow a fuse, his temper was so short with you. 

“Can we please talk before you go?” You asked him, you needed validation and affection so badly that you were itching just to have him hold you again. 

Steve huffed and dropped his keys on the side table and walked towards you, sitting on the couch near you, just not touching you. 

“Are you angry at me Steve?” You asked him, desperate for an answer. You just wanted your boyfriend to kiss you the way he used to.

“No, Y/n.” He answered shortly, temper slowly rising, he was getting annoyed by you already and you hadn’t even said more than 20 words to him yet. 

“Are you sure? You can tell me if I did something wrong, it won’t hurt my feelings,” You said reaching to hold his hand, in need of some sort of affection. Even if it was just holding his large hand. 

“Y/n enough, stop acting like a child, okay?” He shouted, pulling his hand away quickly when he realized that you were going to touch him. “Y/n I need to tell you something, don’t interrupt me okay, I don’t love you anymore, I don’t what happens but I just don’t love you anymore,” Steve said, feeling a weight lifted off his shoulders.

You sat on the couch stunned, absolutely stunned by what your boyfriend had just said. He didn’t love you anymore? What does that even mean? How do you just stop loving someone? You were processing 10 different emotions at once. The one you felt most was pain, so much pain that you couldn’t even cry because of how much it hurt.

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, you just stared at him in shock. You didn’t know what to say, you just sat on the couch, feeling like an outlier in your own home. 

Steve just stared at you, seeing you process what he had just said. He didn’t know how you would take it, but it seemed like you were taking it pretty well. He didn’t say anything else to you, he just grabbed his keys and shut the door behind him. Sam and Bucky were waiting for him at the bar, it was boys night and he was finally free from the leash of your relationship.

+++

You quickly grabbed your things from your side of the closet. You still didn’t feel the urge to cry about this relationship. Maybe because you already knew it was over subconsciously. Why cry over something that you were kind of expecting. 

You left his apartment an hour after Steve had left, with your two suitcases and a large bag filled to the brim in tow, you walked to the tower. It was a far walk, from Brooklyn to Mid-town Manhattan. You received so many strange looks because what kind of crazy person didn’t just call an Uber with all that stuff. 

It took you over an hour to reach the tower. You took the elevator up to your floor, constantly asking FRIDAY for updates of where everyone is inside the tower. Once you reached your floor, you requested FRIDAY to lock your floor to everyone until further notice, ban Steve from entering your floor, and disable people from requesting your location within the tower.

You placed all of your things inside your room, not having enough energy to put any of your things away. You walked over to your bathroom and started the shower, the heat as high as it would go.

You stood under the stream of burning water, you tried to avoid thinking of the situation. You still didn’t feel like crying, just the feeling of being numb and cold. You were probably cold because your insane ass walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan in a thin shirt and jeans. 

You turned the water off and changed into a teeshirt, crawling into your bed and requesting FRIDAY to close the curtains and not to open them until you were out of bed, whenever you awoke the next morning.

You laid in the darkness looking up at the ceiling, torturing yourself with the words Steve had said to you. Constantly replaying them inside your mind, hoping that he was lying, hoping that when you woke up the next morning that he would be laying next to you, holding you to his chest.

As you replayed the words in your head, you finally felt the tears coming on. You sobbed softly thinking of your failed relationship, thinking of what you did wrong. 

You finally fell asleep, cheeks wet from all the tears. Sleeping a dreamless sleep.

+++

Steve was drinking the mead Bucky had on hand, a welcome gift from Thor. They were in some club on the lower west side. Some blonde woman was sitting in his lap, talking about something Steve didn’t even care about. All he wanted to do was to sleep with her and kick her out. 

He didn’t care for anything at the moment, not when she had died at the cost of his stupidity. 

Janet, an inter who Fury had placed on the mission in Bolivia because he believed that she was ready to take on the mission with the supervision of Steve.

The first two weeks of the mission was filled with the sexual tension between the two. It happened after dinner had ended and Steve and Janet were buzzed, Steve had walked her back to her hotel room. She kissed Steve, and they ended up entangled in her sheets, any thoughts of you were completely forgotten by Steve. The night ended with the best sex of Steve’s night.

Once he woke up, he noticed that Janet was laying on his chest naked, and he was also naked. Steve had no regrets, he didn’t feel any remorse that he had cheated on you. So he continued the relationship with Janet, claiming that he didn’t love you anymore, that Janet made him feel something that you never made him feel. 

The night before they were meant to leave, Janet went to the local supermarket to get some wine and cheese for the two, to celebrate their relationship. Only to be shot and killed before she could even make it to the store. 

Steve was devastated that Janet had been killed, he mourned her death so painful. Steve genuinely believed that Janet was the love of his life.

Steve began getting annoyed of the blonde woman in his lap just chattering away, so he kissed her quiet, and took her back to her place, tidy and small. He would expect nothing more from a young woman working in some low-paying field, she had mentioned it but Steve was too caught up in his thoughts about Janet to even care about what she was saying.

As soon as Steve finished, he got up and left. He finally made it to his apartment, expecting you to be in the bedroom, but you weren’t here. Good, it's better that way, you were so unbelievably annoying that he could barely stand to be around you. 

He climbed into his bed, the sheets still smelled like your shampoo. He had to wash the sheets as soon as possible, whenever he found the time. 

+++

You had been in a dark place for the last 3 weeks, you had begged Fury to not place you on any mission, you explained the situation to him, with him being infuriated, almost going to the length of finding Steve and shooting him in the leg. 

You realized that you were in such a depressive state and hadn’t been taking care of yourself. In 3 weeks, you had barely eaten, showered, or spoken to anyone. 

You forced yourself to get up, shower, eat a proper meal, and go for a run. The amount of energy it took to even complete those tasks was so unbelievably exhausting that you only wanted to lay in bed all day and read.

You ended up calling Sharon, asking her to come to see you and hang out to take your mind off the hurt you were going through. You and she were friends, meeting each other during the SHIELD initiative. Sharon was always so kind to you, you could sense her attraction to your boyfriend but then again who would be. Well, ex-boyfriend.

You cried your heart out to Sharon, laying in your bed with her, while she stroked the back of your head trying to soothe you, you ended up asleep in her arms. You woke up to a clean room, and Sharon wasn’t in your bed. She was in your kitchen making something to eat you were guessing. 

“Hey N/n, you need to eat some dinner, I’m making spicy penne al vodka, it’s almost ready,” Sharon said while stirring the pot she was using. You took a seat at the counter, waiting to be served by your friend. You stared out the window, just wondering what Steve was doing right now.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n, hello,” Sharon waved her hand in your face. She was confused as to why you kept daydreaming, he left you, you should move on because he was a piece of shit anyways.

“I’m not hungry Shar, I ate earlier, I’ll just eat later,” You said while staring out the window.

[katzkinder]

Little Boy Blue

Mahiru is tired.

Kuro can see it, in the way his folding isn’t as neat, in the way the vegetables in their dinner aren’t as uniformly chopped, in the way his head bobs during school lessons, his laughter isn’t as loud, how he doesn’t check half so well before he crosses the street and needs the ever watchful hand of Sakuya to drag him back from the curb, a shout on the subclass’s lips, scolding and fussing about the car that had just whizzed past their little group.

Mahiru is tired, but he refuses to rest.

And it’s driving Kuro mad.

It’s as Mahiru is jerked and prodded, worried and fussed over by his trio of school friends, that Kuro makes a decision.

His Eve will get some sleep, whether he wants to or not.

Thankfully for him, he knows Mahiru wants it. The frustrating part is that his stupid, incredible, wonderful human doesn’t think he’s earned it. Not yet. Not when there was still more to do.

Which meant, joy of joys… He needed some help.

Good thing he had three ready made volunteers right there with him on the curb.

Now to convince them.

***

The easiest part, by far, was getting them to go along with his plan. Slipping into Mahiru’s bag to use the cellphone Tooru had bought him (every time he thought about it, he still couldn’t believe it. His own phone, his own clothes, his own games, his own… Everything, really), he sent a single text to three different numbers.

Mahiru’s exhausted. Help me get him to chill out?

The hard part…

“Hey, Mahiru! It’s been a while since we all last had a sleepover, right?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it has…”

“Since we’re already going to be walking you home to make sure you don’t wander out into traffic…”

“It was an accident!”

“Party at Mahiru-sama’s place~!”

“Would you stop with that stupid… Fine! But Sakkun is paying for the food!”

… Wasn’t actually that hard? But, well. Leave it to the grungy joker to just… Steamroll his way into Mahiru’s place, invited or not. And become a steamed cabbage in the process.

The power of Mahiru-sama is frightening indeed…

***

The first order of business when the five of them arrive at Mahiru’s apartment is taken care of handily by, once again, Sakuya.

“Pizza time!” he crows, tapping the order into a website Kuro only vaguely recognizes the name of. It’s not a delivery app, but the website’s own page, and while he’s busy with that, Kuro hops out of Mahiru’s bag, ready to go fetch blankets and pillows from the linen closet in order to set them all up.

Except Mahiru’s two human friends beat him to it.

All the better, he thinks, as he hops up onto the couch to watch them spread things out right in front of the TV. The living room is small, the area they’ve chosen to occupy even more so, but it’s what he would have chosen for Mahiru, too, to cram them all together, to surround his Eve with the simple pressure and warmth of his loved ones crowded close.

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Kuro is so… Grateful for Mahiru’s friends. Before him, and even after him, they will love Mahiru like a brother, like a family, know him in ways he can’t, the same way Gear knows him in ways Mahiru never will.

And that’s fine. To be known is to be loved, and more than anyone, Mahiru deserves it.

“Mahiru, can you help Ryuu-chan? I’m gonna go make sure Sakuya doesn’t burn your kitchen down trying to make popcorn.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know, I’m always the one who makes the popcorn when Shamrock can’t!”

“And how much of it do you burn?”

“Less than you, so nyeh.”

… Maybe he should go watch them.

“Ah, Kuro, don’t get your fur on the counter!”

“Can’t deal…”

At the least, Mahiru seems to already be feeling better. It’s like magic. The best kind Kuro has ever seen.

***

Kuro spends the night as a cat, nestled in Mahiru’s lap or lying across his back, little paws kneading his Eve’s flesh and purring up a storm, extra sweet and extra soothing, while the other three pile around them. Mahiru is… Quiet. But not a bad quiet, no. A good quiet, letting the presence of the other people in their home wash over him, their bickering and their teasing, not a host but just a friend, just another kid, a kid with greasy fingers and a half drunk bottle of cola and two boxes of extra large pepperoni pizzas with cheesy bread set out before them.

“Where the heck do you find these pizza places I’ve never heard of?” Ryuusei asks after a particularly long cheese stretch has him craning his head back and holding his arms out, making the other three laugh, “This is great.”

“Vampire SNS,” Sakuya tells him proudly, and snickers once more at the tongue click it nets him.

Much to Kuro’s surprise, after building their little nest, the green haired vampire had graciously given up his preferred spot next to Mahiru without a word, instead settling himself shoulder to shoulder with the short one, Ryuusei, while he and Koyuki had pressed themselves up against Mahiru like they were trying to merge with him. It’s a tangle of arms and legs, like cats lying one on top of the other, physical closeness that speaks volumes of the emotional one they’ve cultivated with each other, and which they were slowly, Kuro felt, trying to ease him into.

It was a strange feeling. Being included.

But it wasn’t one he hated by any means.

Ryuusei flops his head against Mahiru’s arm, cheek squishing ridiculously as he squints at the screen. “Who picked this again?”

The crunching from Mahiru’s right stops, and a bowl of half eaten popcorn, buttery and with the perfect amount of salt, is nudged his Eve’s way. Wordlessly, Mahiru grabs up a big handful of it, stuffs it in his mouth with a knowing little smile, a sort of carelessness Kuro can never seem to invoke on his own.

The shuffling of fabric, and Koyuki leans onto Mahiru’s shoulder as well, the barest hint of a pout to his voice. “Does it matter? Even bad movies are fun when we’re together.”

“You’re cheesier than this pizza,” Sakuya teases, and Mahiru grins, laughs, finally says something, the exhaustion all but gone from his voice.

“That means Koyuki definitely picked it.”

“So you’re the one responsible!” Ryuusei shouts, and Koyuki flicks popcorn at him, bounces it right off his head.

“Shut up! You can change it, y’know.”

“Well, we’re already this far in,” Mahiru muses, and Sakuya quietly plucks the floor tainted popcorn up to place on a napkin, “Might as well finish it.”

Kuro is… So glad that Mahiru has friends who can do this for him. To do the things he can’t. This sense of total normalcy, of being just another teenager… It’s not really something he can help with. Not really. He knows he’s the type to overthink, to become discouraged when his efforts don’t get immediate results.

But now Mahiru is laughing again.

It’s everything he could have asked for.

***

Hours upon hours later, the only light in the room is from the flickering TV screen, and the only sounds are the soft breaths of four teenage boys, fast asleep right there on the floor.

Kuro finally rouses himself, gets up, stretches, and carefully picks his way down Mahiru’s back. Only then does he allow himself to transform back into a human, cracking his neck, his back, and sighing heavily at the relief it grants his stiff joints.

It’s time to get to work. All that effort would be meaningless if Mahiru woke to a mess, so clean up crew Kuro shall be.

First go the soda bottles. Back into the fridge, without a label or a care for who had drunk from what, because it’s not like those four cared anyway, but Mahiru hated to waste food. Honestly, Kuro was in agreement on that much, but especially when it came to his favorites. So, twisting each cap tightly back into place, he made sure to set them up in plain sight so that they’d be finished in the morning (and if not by their owners, by him), blocking the light of the fridge with his own body and the tails of his coat so as not to disturb the quartet of friends.

Next were the pizza boxes. Each one was completely empty, but that was no surprise, given that there were two shared between the five of them. Even the little banana peppers included had been devoured. If Kuro had to guess… Mahiru. For some godforsaken reason, his Eve adored things that set his mouth on fire, and no amount of “it’s not that spicy!” would change Kuro’s opinion that Mahiru, sweet faced, stubborn, wonderful Mahiru, just wanted to see what the fires of hell tasted like.

(And maybe he was a bit of a baby when it came to peppers, but clearly that wasn’t his fault)

Onto the counters the pizza boxes went.

Next came the bowl of popcorn, filled with nothing but unpopped kernels, then the plates, then the napkins, then the painstaking process of picking up every infernal piece of popped corn that had been jokingly thrown about between friends with zero thought for who would have to clean it up all up.

Considering how many Sakuya had tossed, he had a feeling the other vampire had known Kuro would take it upon himself to tidy up their garbage, and found himself cracking an annoyed, if fond, smile.

Little brat.

Mess more or less taken care of, Kuro had one last task to complete, and fetching the fluffiest quilt he could find from the closet that hadn’t already been used to pad out the hard tile in front of their TV, he carefully, carefully, spread it out over the pile of sleeping boys. Not a one stirred, not even Mahiru.

His smile turned ever so slightly bitter.

Well, that was fine. That was good, even, because it meant that, more than he’d thought, Mahiru had needed this night, this little slice of being normal, of simplicity.

Looking at each face in turn… He thought that maybe, all of them had.

Himself included.

Tucking himself into the crook of Mahiru’s neck was easy, a warm, furry weight that had his Eve curling up even more, ever so slightly, setting off a chain reaction as each teenager also shifted, one or two murmuring in their sleep, shuffling closer to each other like small birds seeking safety and comfort during a storm.

And that was fine, too. Kuro would watch over their dreams, every one.

Sleep tight, guys. Sweet dreams...

[elfwoodfae]

Writing’s On the Wall Harrison Eo Wells x reader.

Chapter 2- Specter.

Author’s note: I am so happy and excited for this new series. I hope sincerely that you all like it and let me know your thoughts, this new series will touch on darker themes up ahead in the future. Also tumblr is being annoying with the paragraphs that’s why they are so far apart.

I made this moodboard. I looked up and searched the photos and edited them. I don’t mind if you use it.

Part 1 (here)

A strange calmness falls over him; he turns around, opening his eyes for the first time in hours. He feels exhausted, having spend the majority of the night observing you. He chastises himself, he shouldn’t have done that, there was no other option, he reminds himself, he is desperate and frustrated. The sudden reminder of your presence this early in the morning angers him, a growl escaping his mouth as he sits up, the white linens of the bed pooling around his hips as he rubs his face with one hand, turning his head and doing a double take at the door, making sure is locked, he knows he locked it last night but the paranoia your presence has brought him makes him second guess himself.

His feet touch the floor first, he stretches his arms over his head, moaning at the relief it offers, his white shirt riding up enough to expose a gleam of milky skin; his hair is a mess of black curls, the expression looking back at him thorough the mirror is annoyed, tired, he splashes water on his face, he needs to wake up. The shadow of a beard is starting to appear on his chin, along his jaw and cheeks, he closes his eyes, rubbing the back of his neck and sighting before gripping the sink in a moment of fury where he wishes he could rip it out of the wall and throw it, shattering it into pieces.

How hard could it be to get rid of you? It wouldn’t be hard at all, it would be done before you could even draw your next breath, it would bring him more pleasure than beating Allen, but the consequences would be devastating, his rational side reminded him, there was not possible way to free himself from the torture of your existence without dooming his. Had Joe not met you things would have been different but he could see as clear as day the picture waiting back for him at the lab. Barry most likely knows about you by now, he knows there will be questions once he gets there, they will be innocent in nature but they will only serve to cement your presence into his mind.

He looks at himself in the mirror, admiring every detail of his clothes before he turns around, spotting his chair exactly where he had left it last night; he walks to it, looking at it so intently as if his gaze alone could burn it, hating the thing he punishes himself with. It’s for a greater good, he remembers. Wheeling into the main area of the house he notices all the lights are still off, he takes solace onto the fact that you are still sleeping, freeing him from your presence even if he knows it will only be for a few hours. He decides to leave, not wanting to take the chance of you deciding to appear and tag along, he doesn’t think of himself capable enough to not pull a Brutus a gut you in the middle of the day. This are also the only quiet moments he will get to think, to work on his suit, he sighs, there is so little time for him to use even when he is always alone.

The room is unfamiliar to your eyes, the bed linens are soft, warm, they smell of fresh cotton and clean clothes, it takes a moment for your memories to return, reminding you where you are. The room is dark, the curtains successfully blocking any sunlight from peaking in, there is no telling the time as you look around trying to get at least a sense of how rested you are. The clock reads sometime after 8, Harrison has more likely left by now and a slight disappointment settles over you, you wanted to see the labs, maybe he will want to take you tomorrow. The bathroom is spacious, glass doors decorating the shower as a black marble vanity rest on the wall, its too big for one person, it feels too luxurious for a guest room. Your mind reminds you of a forgotten fact, Harrison was never a showoff kind of person, he liked his house to feel welcoming and cozy, completely opposite to this place.

Walking out of the room is impossible not to notice the eerie silence that accompanies you, all the lights are off but the sun seems to illuminate the whole place through the skylight. A feeling of anxiety settles in your stomach as your eyes scan the expanse of the room, a corridor shielding doors you haven’t explored yet calls to you, maybe it would be best to wait for him to come back and show you around. You look around once again, scanning the walls and every available surface, your brows furrowing once a detail settles into you that you hadn’t taken into account the previous day; there is not even a single photo of Tess or himself anywhere. Maybe he has them in his room, or perhaps in his office, you think, the anxiety of walking into his space long forgotten, replaced with curiosity.

With fast steps you make it to the first door, its unlocked. The wood doesn’t creak when you open it and you wish it had, any sound would be better than this silence. Peaking your head inside, rows of shelfs of books welcome you, a dark desk sits in the middle, random papers and pieces discarded around it, nothing you would be able to recognize. A leather chair sits behind it and for a moment you wonder what could he need it for? Scanning the surface for any photos, any memories of Tess you could find but is empty, not even a photo of her in any of the walls.

Moving along you walk to the last room, the one on the end of the hall; opening the door, the room is dark, no light peaking into it, the bedsheets are a dark grey, almost black, nothing is out of order, a smell that could only be described as a freshly shaved man and clean clothes hits you, its pleasant, fresh. There is once again no photos to be seen, you should turn around, walk back and continue with your day but curiosity gets the best of you; the walking closet is big, rows of clothes hanging, color coordinated and perfectly ironed. A mirror from floor to ceiling adorning the wall in front of you. Walking closer to his clothes you grab the sleeve of one of his expensive white shirts, wanting to feel the softness of it, you don’t recall ever seeing him wearing one. Out of impulse you bring it to your nose, clothing your eyes as the smell of his cologne hits you, causing a blush to rise up your cheeks; he probable sprays it on himself here, impregnating everything around him.

Abandoning his room you walk into the kitchen, there is so many things about him you wish you knew, things that have probably changed and things that you don’t remember. He seems so distant, so cold, so unavailable to you, it made you wonder why he had allowed you to stay with him, perhaps it was not you, it was your attachment, the last piece of her memory he had, you were like an heirloom, one he refused to throw away, and that realization made you sad.

He didn’t seem happy, he seemed lonely, used to being by himself, making you question if he had any friends, if there was anyone caring for him. The man you remembered was always accompanied, always surrounded by people, always kind, always loving; where had that man disappear? You wondered, remembering how he hadn’t even known who you were once he picked up the phone that night, but what could you expected? You had never reached out, staying like a ghost, gone and hidden from his life.

Sighting you shake your head, forcing these thoughts to abandon you, having had enough of their torment for a day, there are things after all to be do today. Her face attacks your memory, you remember her from the times Tess and Harrison had brought her over, Christina is her name, she was close to Harrison and she had been very close to Tess, urging the obligation of a visit in you the moment you had decided to visit Central City, certain guilt at staying so out of touch to both of them fills you.

Perhaps you should have called her office before hand, you think, she is a busy woman after all, but after a few name drops from her past her assistant informs you that she will see you shortly. The door opens to the conference room she asked you to wait at, her face haven’t changed, a few wrinkles here and there, but the same determine eyes started back at you.

“Y/n” she says your name, surprise lace in her voice, she seems excited to see you. She hugs you, before commenting how much you have changed since she last saw you approximately fifteen years ago.

“I am so glad you could see me, I’m so sorry I never reached out, is just after the death of Tess so many things changed.” You begin, feeling the sting of tears coming to her at the emotion of relieving those memories, at being so close to someone that knew her.

“I’m surprise Harrison didn’t mention that I was visiting, I assumed you both were close friends.” You say nonchalantly, catching in the way her face contract, she seems uncomfortable at the mention of his name.

“Well yes we were.” She says, taking in a breath before continuing.

“You see, after the accident Harrison and I fell out of touch.” She says, seemingly leaving it at that, but curiosity is a powerful feeling, pulling its strings inside of you, forcing you to ask.

“Oh, but don’t you both keep any contact at all?” The question seems innocent, you genuinely want to know. She understands that, concern for you raising in her as she decides to open up more to you.

“I’ll be honest with you y/n, after the accident Harrison changed so much, that loving, caring man disappeared, he became cold, calculating, manipulative. I understand how grieve can change a person, but he, is like he is not even the same person anymore.” She tells you and you get the feeling she is not speaking in a metaphorical way.

You decide to confide her in your worries of him, in your confusion when he didn’t know who you were, when he didn’t even recognize your name. You can see the concern raising in her eyes, at you being alone with a man neither of you know any longer, but you assure her is fine, you will be fine, how bad could he be? He wouldn’t hurt you, this was Harrison you both are talking about, even if neither of you believe it completely.

@twilightlover2007

@austarus

@harrisonwellsisdaddy

@wintersire

@reallystressedhoneybee

@fanfiction-and-fantasies

@saltykidcreation

@dumpeetintofyre

@yetanotherwells

[teeztheflag]

─────────────────────

I c h  h a b e  e i n e n  P l a n ! (I have a plan!)

⋆ pairing: demon!yeo sang x reader x demon!seong hwa(poly!ateez)

⋆ genre: demon au, suggestive, crack, smut

⋆ warnings: self-consciousness, flirting, smut, emotional self, sexual teasing, Yeo Sang comes up with a dumb plan

⋆ words: 2,200

a/n: I hope you like it anon! <3 / no proof read! will do tomorrow 

⋆  „Just showing you what you’re missing on.“

─────────────────────

„The guys are right. It would literally be the best for all of us.“ Yeo Sang pops a blueberry into his mouth and frowns in thought. Hearing a chuckle from behind he smiles mischievously at his older brother and sends him a questioning look.

„What?“

Seong Hwa prepares some snacks into bowls and looks over to the young demon before speaking up. „I don’t know - I mean... earlier you have been the first to say that you are against it... so what changed?“

Yeo Sang sighs and leans on the kitchen counter to eye him. „If I think about it again it makes sense. I mean if we were to talk with her and not San and Woo Young.“

Seong Hwa grins while taking the bowls and makes his way into the big living room of their mansion followed by Yeo Sang.

„Yeah, let’s just ask her. But I am one hundred percent sure she’s going to say no. She’s not ready and if I look at ourselves we aren’t, too.“

„Is there the right time to be ready? We are all craving for proximity and touch... we are mates.“

„I didn’t know I would ever hear this from our Yeo Sang‘ie! Our (y/n) really has her effect on you.“ He laughs out heartly and Yeo Sang pushes the oldest a little bit to hide his embarrassment. Before he can say anything the ring bells and his heart beat quickens at the arrivement of their mate.

You’re standing in front of the door making a little dance - the dance when you have to pee quickly. When the door opens you run straight to the toilet ignoring Seong Hwa who stood there with opened arms waiting for a hug that was much needed after the whole two days he didn’t see you.

He pouts and closes the door with a smile when he realizes you ran to the toilet but grimaces when Yeo Sang grins at him.

„What? Don’t forget about your plan playboy and then we will see who’s laughing!“ Yeo Sang‘s eyes turn dark at his words and something itches inside him.

After you finished your gaze turns to the mirror to examine your look and suddenly you feel a little bit insecure again. You didn’t look pretty good today thanks to the exams you took the last weeks. Exhausted living of coffee and the lack of sleep wasn’t good for anyone’s well being.

You shyly went into the living room looking around to see Yeo Sang already snuggled into the couch under a blanket. „Hello, (y/n).“ Without giving you a glance or anything you decide to put your things on the ground for staying over the night and pout because of the lack of recognition by the boy.

Maybe it’s for the best you look like shit...

You mutter a small ‚hi‘ and flinch when Seong Hwa comes up behind you and engulfs you into a strong embrace using the chance to hide his face into the crook of your neck. You feel your body freezing up at his touch and the warm breath on your neck.

After a few seconds you start trying to wiggle out of his arms but he only fastens his hold on you and a breathless chuckle leaves the demon. „Where do you think you’re going, mate?“

„I - I just want to sit down and start with the movie...“ Great, you’re stuttering now.

„Mh? It’s only 7 we have all the time. The boys won’t be back until 11.“

„It’s Sanghwa time!“ Yeo Sang cheers up from the couch and of course he listened intently to your and Seong Hwa‘s interaction while scrolling through the movies.

You unintentionally roll with your eyes and finally escape the cave of arms that trapped you. „I didn’t know it was only us today. Where are the crackheads?“ Yeo Sang opens the blanket for you but stops midway seeing your clothes.

„Don’t you have anything more comfortable to wear?“

„What do you mean? It’s a jeans and a top it’s ok...“ Yeo Sang frowns and looks at Seong Hwa for a short moment before he vanishes out of the room probably bringing something to wear for you.

After arguing with Yeo Sang about the genre of the movie Seong Hwa comes back with a hoodie from his closet and a loose jogger. You raise your eyebrows at the choice and are clearly confused when Yeo Sang speaks up. „You know, if you had clothes here it would be much easier. You’re practically living here anyway.“

Seong Hwa hides his smile at the first attempt of his younger brother and finally chuckles when you completely ignore him and take the clothes to change in the bathroom.

Trying to sit at the end miserably fails when Seong Hwa is quick to lift you up easily putting you between the two boys. You know it doesn’t make any sense to argue over it and you’re also quickly silenced about the movie when the oldest starts to feed you with candy and other delicious snacks.

Minutes after you really find yourself enjoying the two being so close to you although the clothes don’t help with your self confidence today... Sparkles suddenly ignite on your skin when you feel Yeo Sang leaning down to your side while his nose brushes your ear and then your chin.

You feel like paralyzed and curse at yourself for always acting like a shy teen when the demons started to get all cozy with you. Also it was an experience to have the attention of not only one love interest but eight. Although it only has been the three of you right now you were sure of one thing - getting attention of one of your mates was beyond everything you believed a love could give. It was mesmerizing and left you blissful to no end.

The butterflies in your stomach always came up in those situations making it hard for you to control your breathing - or even your whole self. You didn’t trust yourself. The urge to slowly build a connection and find out about the bond wasn’t the easiest when more of the boys couldn’t hold themselves back in your environment.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Yeo Sang places a hesitating kiss on your shoulder and Seong Hwa firmly placing his palm on your thigh.

„You smell wonderful...“ Yeo Sang is sure his orbs already turned into a devilish red by now and he suppresses his need to turn you around to kiss your delicate lips. Like earlier he gets into Seong Hwa‘s head seeing much more conflicting thoughts than his own - mixed with the plot of the movie and questions about it he could never come up with.

His unnatural abilities make it possible for the demon to hear your quickened heartbeat but he tries not to look into your thoughts. Although no one would ever know he did it Yeo Sang swore to himself to respect people and their minds - from time to time. (With his brothers it was another subject...)

„Seong Hwa, I have an idea... and by seeing your unholy thoughts I am convinced you will be much more than alright with it.“ A sinister smirk plays on his lips and while you just relax a little bit because Yeo Sang stopped his soothing touches on you the evening turns into something you didn’t expect.

„(y/n)?“

„Mh.“

„I - we, wanted to ask you something.“

„Okay?“ Your gaze is still trained on the tv not paying much attention to Yeo Sang. „What would you say about moving in with us - I know that our relationship is still a little bit... fresh, but, for us it would only make sense.“

This catches your attention indeed. You turn your head to both sides seeing Seong Hwa‘s and Yeo Sang‘s impassive face while the two study your reaction carefully.

„Nope.“ You pop the ,p‘ slightly and lean back much more into the cushions trying to hide away so you couldn’t see their reactions.

„Mh, okay...“ They really just gave up? But it was Seong Hwa and Yeo Sang you were talking about. The most respective guys to you. If it was for some of the others you would probably be bend over now and -

The movie goes on and after actually thinking the subject was over Yeo Sang stands up to go to the toilet for a moment leaving you and the cuddling Seong Hwa alone on the big couch.

His palm was still placed neatly and protectively on your thigh when you suddenly feel it moving up to your flower zone. You gulp at the goosebumps forming on your skin and stop yourself from pushing his hand away - because - it definitely felt way too good and although you wouldn’t admit it you desired for some love and their touches.

Seong Hwa‘s dark eyes lingered on your face and with his other hand he started to caress your face up to your lips. Your eyes felt heavy and slowly you closed them intensifying your senses to his lustful motions. His index stopped at your clit and with the lightest push a chuckle leaves him fascinated by the little moan your mouth just escaped.

You feel ashamed and your eyes open but Seong Hwa is quick to lay you down on the couch putting pressure on your abdomen to soothe you. „Relax, baby.“

His eyes and the usual smile stayed in your mind when you commit to his will and lay back to let him do how he wants. Your hands quickly find their way into his soft hair and naturally you lift your lower body for him to take off your joggers.

You panick a little bit when you feel him also pulling down your slip with the movement but can’t stop him when your arms are jerked back carefully. Yeo Sang is grinning at you from the top while locating your wrists above your head.

Time seems to fly by while Seong Hwa is eating you out like a bee zipping lusciously from his favorite flower. Your moans are music to his ears and while you cannot stop yourself from complete falling for the demons by enjoying the pleasure and relaxation they are giving you way too much you feel yourself heating up you can feel the knot in your belly tighten by any second.

„I - ah, I think I am going to...“ Suddenly the boys let go of you leaving you thirsty for the satisfaction. Your eyes shoot open immediately feeling betrayed but much more angry and horny than ever. Never did anyone of them do this to you - well, Yun Ho liked to play this game but not Seong Hwa and Yeo Sang. They were the sweetest, most caring and „assholes!“

Seeing the shit eating grin of Seong Hwa and also arrogant eyes of Yeo Sang make your blood boil. You feel exposed and vulnerable while they are fully closed having all the control over you and you hate it. Nah, it’s hot... but you don’t know what they are the fuck up to right now.

Without anyone saying anything you make a move to pull up the joggers disappointment clearly written all of your face. Yeo Sang and Seong Hwa stand up to watch you making eye contact in between. You sit on the couch in front of them sulking over the event not wanting to look up to them.

„Do you want to embarrass me or what is this about?“

Yeo Sang leans down and with his pointy lifts up your chin to catch your gaze and lock it with a knowing look.

„Just showing you what you’re missing on.“

Again a bubble of anger builds up in you and you stand up to grimace at the two. „You’re really dickheads! You’re playing with me!“ The both start to chuckle a little bit but quickly stop when they see your eyes watering and your hands turn into fists.

Maybe Yeo Sang‘s plan was a little bit too much for your emotional self today?

Seong Hwa‘s quick to relating it, too, and tries to reach out for his mate to console and apologize.

„Oh (y/n), I am sorry it was a bad idea - “

„I - I just need a moment.“ Quickly following you and telling your name a much bigger problem is about to come when the door suddenly opens presenting all the other boys with the sight of you being all teary and red in the face.

More tears flow down your cheeks and you descend the stairs with quick steps while the others watch the show confused and worried.

„What the hell happened with her?“ Jong Ho speaks up anger already written over his face at the thought something‘s up with his mate.

„I made a plan so Seong Hwa went down on her and - “

„Was it that bad?“ San asks mischievously into the round quickly getting the message of the others it was the wrong question right now.

Hong Joong sighs when a big argument starts hearing your little sobs from upstairs knowing you had some hard weeks behind you and being extra soft at the moment... they better come up with something good to get you out of the bubble.

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