#i do not feel comfortable around my parents far too often even if it's not really their fault

[loverboybrightsideghost]

dw about it

i've gotten to a point where i can't really tell if i'm okay or not. maybe there is no Default state of being, but it's gotten to the point where i can't tell if i'm Actually Okay and the clouds and fuckery of my brain is telling me that i'm not or if I'm Not Okay and i'm just pretending that i am.

[moonstruckme]

i was wondering if we could have some roomate!james where him and reader have a disagreement over something and reader feels like james don’t want her there anymore but he comforts her??

Thanks for requesting!

cw: reader feels financially insecure

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“James.” You run your fingers worriedly over the small tears in the doorframe. Look to your roommate in the kitchen. “This is getting out of hand.” 

“What is?” 

“Juniper’s been scratching on the doorframe again.” 

James tsks. “Junie-girl,” he coos, little reprimand to be found in his tone as he looks down at the orange cat currently winding through his ankles, “what are you trying to do to us, huh?” 

You’re not quite so amused. Since James had agreed to look after his friend Lily’s cat while she’s traveling, Juniper has knocked down and broken two of your glasses, scratched up a corner of the couch, and pissed on the carpet in James’ room. You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with the smell of that last one yourself, but you doubt your landlord will be pleased if James can’t get it out by the end of your lease. 

“She’s got to stop,” you say, oddly unsure if you’re trying to reason with James or the cat. “It’s getting really noticeable.” 

“I’m not sure what else to do.” James shrugs. His pan sizzles as he turns over the chicken he’s cooking. “I’ve already moved her favorite scratching post over by the door and sprayed it with the catnip Lily gave me.” 

You cross your arms and sit down on the couch, chewing the inside of your lip. “I’m worried about the security deposit,” you admit. 

“Oh, don’t be.” James waves a hand vaguely in your direction. “My last apartment was way worse than this when I moved out, and they didn’t charge me for anything.” 

His unconcern nettles you. Of course, why would James be upset about a security deposit? He likes to pretend at independence, but you know his parents will always give him funds if he’s in a bind. He doesn’t worry about money the way you do. 

 “Yes, but that was a different landlord, wasn’t it.” There’s a bit of bite to your tone, and you try to soften it. “Maybe someone else could take her for the rest of Lily's trip?” 

James turns, eyebrows lifting as though he’s surprised you’d even ask. “She couldn’t get anyone else to take her in the first place. Mary’s visiting her family, Marl’s allergic, and Sirius would have a cow.” You’re not very inclined to find the last one a spectacular excuse, but you keep your mouth shut. “I agreed to take her,” he says, somewhat firmly, “and I don’t want to go back on that.” 

Heat prickles over your skin. “I just—listen, I can paint over the small things,” you say. “I’m going to try to cover up as many damages as I can, but when your friends come over and break the handle off the microwave” —true story— “or you let their cats tear up the apartment, I don’t know what to do.” 

“I told you I’m going to fix the microwave,” he says without turning around. 

“When, James? That was months ago, and—” 

“And if my friends coming over is a problem for you, it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of opportunities to mention it when we first moved in.” Now James is growing agitated too, his posture stiffening over the stove. “I don’t get where this is coming from. I told you before we moved in that I’d want to have friends here often. When I asked if Junie could stay here, you said it was fine!” 

“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” You feel ridiculous, nearly shouting at him in your mostly lovely apartment. James really isn’t a bad roommate overall; you know you could do far worse. But the small things have begun to add up, and you really cannot afford not to lose your deposit. “I like your friends, and I like Junie, but this is—it’s too much.” 

“You shouldn’t have lived with me if you couldn’t deal with it.” 

James flicks off the stove, turning around to speak to you directly, and you see the moment he sees the glossy sheen in your eyes. His expression pinches. 

“Sweetheart—” 

“No. Do not feel bad for me right now,” you hiss, blinking furiously. “Just because I’m not good at arguing doesn’t mean I’m not still mad.” 

Your anger is rapidly fading, though, as his words reverberate around in your head. You shouldn’t have lived with me. Does he really think that? There are certainly things upon which you don’t see eye-to-eye, but you love living with James. You love spending time with him, sharing things with him, just being around him. The idea that he doesn’t feel the same about you starts spiderweb cracks going through your heart. 

“I’m not good at arguing either,” he says with a hefty sigh. The tension seems to go out of his shoulders with it, and he starts toward you with heavy steps, plopping down on the couch. “Can we just talk, please?” 

You sniffle, working hard to suppress your tears. “Do you think it’d be better if we didn’t live together?” you ask. 

James' eyes widen behind his glasses. His brows hook up in the middle. “No. Why would you say that?” 

You shake your head, not quite looking at him. “I honestly do like your friends. I don’t mind them coming over or helping you do favors for them, and I get that—that sometimes things happen.” You take a shallow breath. Ignore the way James’ hand twitches in his lap. “But you’re right that I didn’t consider all of this when we moved in together. I’m okay with trying to get past it, but if you want me to move out—” 

“Oh my god, no.” James leans forward, trying to catch your gaze. You don’t let him, because just then a small droplet of water squishes out of the corner of your eye and begins a slow trudge down your cheek. “Sweetheart, I don’t want that. I like living with you.” 

Juniper hops up onto the couch, plodding onto your lap and rubbing her side against your stomach affectionately. A wet laugh bubbles out of you, more tears cresting your cheeks as you scratch awkwardly between her ears. 

James makes a sound so soft you think you’ll dream about it. “Can I hug you?” 

You lean toward him in answer. He meets you halfway, needling his arms under yours and folding you into him. You press your face, hot with embarrassment and upset, into the crook of his neck and shoulder, and James’ hand rubs your back in big, sweeping circles, before it stops moving at all, pressing flush to your spine, easing you closer. Junie hops off your lap. Evidently, she considers your comfort taken care of.

“I don’t want you to pity me,” you mumble. When you blink, your lashes leave wetness like the strokes of a paintbrush on his skin. “If you want me to move out, it’s okay.” 

“I don't,” he promises, squeezing you until it almost hurts. “I was being rash. I was only being defensive because you were angry. About very reasonable stuff, if I’m honest. I can pay for your half of the security deposit if we lose it.” 

You shake your head, shifting your body to hug him harder. James meets you a hundred percent. “You don’t need to do that.” 

“I do, it’s fine. It’s my mess. Just don’t talk any more about moving out, okay?” 

You mumble your agreement into his neck. It tickles, and James squeaks, but he doesn’t let you go.

[little-diable]

Wild creations - Tyler Owens (smut)

I just love pairings like these. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler is the best friend of reader’s brother. When he comes visit their vacation home, it’s time for them to finally give in to the feelings both had tried to swallow ever since they had been teenagers.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, idiots in love, brother’s best friend setting, some slight angst

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.2k words)

“I’m not giving up my room, Jake.” Her voice dripped with annoyance and anger, hands pressed to her sides as she stared her bother down. It had only been a handful of hours since her return to their family’s vacation home, set on enjoying a week off with just her closest family around. Plans that were now slipping through her fingers like warm sand.

“Oh, come on, Tyler hasn’t been sleeping on a comfortable bed for weeks, you’ve slept in the guest bedroom before.” Jake leaned against the door frame, arms crossed in front of his chest while studying (y/n) with an almost bored expression.

“And why is that any of my problem? He’s your friend, you can sleep in the other room then. Now fuck off.” Perhaps she shouldn’t have come visit the same time as her brother, the one person she loved more than any words could describe, the one person she could also strangle with her bare hands more often than she’d like to admit.

“My mattress is shit and you know it. Please, (y/n), it’s only for three nights.” The deep sigh leaving her drew a bright smirk onto Jake’s lips. He pushed himself away from the door frame to step closer, to press a kiss to her forehead and to mumble a soft “Thank you”.

She watched her brother leave with tired eyes, wondering how she’d make it through this week. (Y/n) was no stranger to being around Tyler, one of Jake’s closest friends since their early high school days, but ever since she’s kept her distance. Tyler was handsome, smart, wickedly funny, a dangerous mixture she couldn’t get involved with - especially not since he was one of Jake’s friends.

……

“So how many tornadoes has it been so far? Quite the active season, right?” (Y/n) tried to keep her focus on her food as her parents kept chatting with Tyler, who had arrived a while ago. Even though she had tried to avoid him for as long as possible, she hadn’t managed to stay away for long, pulled into a tight hug that had lasted a handful of seconds too long. A hug that had made her heart skip a beat. A hug that had left her feeling light headed and dizzy.

“Too many to count, but it has been more active than expected, that's for certain.” Tyler’s smile showed off his pearly white teeth, eyes wandering around the table to focus on (y/n). She tried to ignore his gaze on her, not daring to give in that easily, but as his knee bumped hers, her eyes automatically snapped up to meet his piercingly bright ones. “How’ve you been, (y/n)? Jake told me about your new position.”

An almost half hearted, rushed reply left her, rambling away about her new position while heat crawled up her neck. Tyler’s grin was unwavering, glued to his lips, a grin that made her hands ball into fists as the realisation swapped over her that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The others didn’t seem to catch on, lost in their own conversation about whatever Jake was telling their parents.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in your room, darlin’. I know how much you love that space.” His hand rested on her thigh for a moment while he reached for one of the food stacked plates, he squeezed her warm skin before letting go again - a touch that felt as if he had poured boiling water over her skin, forced to accept that Tyler was peeling away the layers of restraint one by one.

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice, thanks to your best friend.” A loud laugh left Tyler as he shook his head at her. For a few more seconds, he looked down at her, studying the woman he had always found himself fascinated by.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind sharing the bed with you, and I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Now she really needed to look away, staring down at her food with her jaw muscles clenched. She had tried to forget about that night for years, how she had shared a bed with him drunk off her face, pressed to his side with his arms tightly wrapped around her frame. She didn’t remember much of that night, and perhaps it was for the better that way, yet the way she had felt overly protected and comfortable in his arms was forever etched into her memory.

“Jake would kill you.” The words rolled off her tongue a tad bit too loud, catching her brother’s attention who now looked at the two from his seat. Though while (y/n) kept her gaze locked onto her brother’s features, Tyler’s hand found its way back to her knee, comfortably resting there. She struggled to focus on anything but his closeness, the warm touch of his slightly calloused fingertips.

“Why would I kill him?” Panic flushed through (y/n), she cleared her throat before trying to scramble something random together.

“(Y/n) knows that you’re a sore loser, and I’m all for kicking your ass in another game tonight.”

……

She was deep in thought, staring at her reflection in the mirror while brushing her teeth. (Y/n) pondered over her choices, wondering if she should leave earlier to escape Tyler’s closeness. Being around him had always been hard, but today something seemed to have shifted. It appeared as if he was set on teasing her, on touching her at any given chance to make her body buzz in excitement.

“Can I come in?” Her eyes snapped towards his bright ones, staring at him in the mirror. Tyler didn’t wait for her reply, he stepped into the bathroom before closing the door behind himself.

Wordlessly, he came to rest next to her, keeping his eyes on the mirror with a bright smile tugging on his lips. She watched him squeeze some toothpaste onto his toothbrush before he mimicked her movements. His sweats hung dangerously low on his hips, telling her that he’d only need to stretch his arms to show off the muscular stomach she had seen too many times to count, forced to endure being around him whenever hot summer days were upon them.

(Y/n) had to avert her eyes, trying to speed up her movements to flee from this very room as soon as possible. She tried to be as graceful as possible with spitting out and rinsing her mouth before drying her face, but the second she tried to turn from Tyler, his hand snapped out to find her wrist. It only took him a handful of moments to get rid of his toothbrush and to lean back against the sink while pulling her against him.

Almost automatically her hands found his chest, pressed against his muscular body to stop herself from tumbling into him. Wide eyes stared up at him, getting lost in the rich colour reminding her of a summer morning, filled with excitement about what the new day would bring, and yet there was a depth to the colour she could barely pinpoint, something dark almost.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Tyler’s hands rested on her waist, leaving (y/n) to curse herself for only wearing an oversized sleep shirt and a pair of panties he could easily get a glimpse of. Her mouth was dry, throat closing up as she rang for words to protest, to speak lies neither of them would believe.

“It’s late, Tyler, let me get some sleep in, please.” She mumbled the words, eyes no longer focused on his but rather on his neck. His eyes burned holes into her skin with their intense gaze, a burning fire she couldn’t escape from.

“Not before you tell me what I did wrong.” Tyler’s words managed to gain her attention, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He hadn’t done anything wrong - besides the teasing that had grown more prominent than ever before. He wasn’t the one to blame for her distance, god, she doubted there was anything Tyler could do wrong when it came to her. Oblivious as one could be, that was all he was.

“Nothing, Tyler. There’s nothing going on, I’m just tired.” Slowly, his hand began to move. His fingers grasped her chin, forcing (y/n) to look up at him while he silently studied her for a few seconds. He shook his head at her, as if she could read his thoughts and knew exactly what was going through his mind. Nothing but questions neither had an answer to.

“Talk to me, please. It’s just me, darlin’. I don’t like that weird tension between us.” Her eyes fluttered close for a second, followed by a deep, almost angry breath leaving her. With her heart in her throat, she pushed herself away from him, forcing his hands to let go of her waist at the unexpected need for distance.

“But that’s the problem, Tyler! It’s you, and it always has been. And I don’t know how much longer I can endure that.” Her glassy eyes were focused on the floor as she turned her back to him. He was too slow to catch up with her, still focused on the unexpected words that had surprised them both. All Tyler could do was watch her leave, blending in with the darkness lingering in the hallway - a darkness perfectly hiding the tears that began to roll down her cheeks as if a cloud of rain was following her around.

…..

“Tyler?” Her voice dripped with sleep, eyes focused on the dark frame stepping into the guest bedroom. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was him, moving closer towards the bed with the mattress that gave in the second his knee met the soft fabric. He laid down next to her, pulling (y/n) against his chest with a sigh. It had been a few hours since their run-in and her accidental confession, words both hadn’t been able to forget ever since.

“I’m used to chasing tornadoes, to speed after those powerful, wild creations that can destroy everything and everybody who stands in their way. I’m good with asking myself questions we currently have no answers to, because nature will always be quicker and smarter than us. But I am a fool when it comes to you, and I’ve always been. I accepted that I’ll never get the answers I’d like to hear, well, all until tonight at least.” She turned in his grasp, needing to look at his features the lingering darkness hid almost completely. Wordlessly, (y/n) waited for him to keep on speaking, to give room to the pain dripping from his words.

“I fell in love with you as a teenager, I tried to stop myself, knowing that you’re my best friend’s sister. It’s wrong and probably fucked up of me, but I can’t get rid of these feelings for you. I tried, really did, you met my ex-girlfriends, and I guess it wasn’t fair on them. They were a distraction, a nice way to pass some time while my feelings for you kept growing stronger. You’ve always been there for me, always been by my side. I don’t want to fight that when there’s a small chance of you also feeling what I feel.” Her body forced her to shuffle around, to move closer and to press a soft kiss to his lips. Both their breaths hitched in their chests at the electricity buzzing through their bodies.

Tyler chased her lips, needing to deepen the kiss while realising that this was her way of giving in, of telling him that she had been plagued by the same feelings he hadn’t been able to shake. Without letting go of her, Tyler rolled (y/n) onto her back, allowing him to rest between her thighs as her legs found their way around his waist.

It felt like a dream, almost. Something both had imagined and dreamt of for years, all while accepting that it would always stay like that, a figment of their imagination, something that lived and breathed with the changing seasons. Their tongues met, slow at first, testing out the newfound territory before giving in to the pull that threatened to drown them.

“I’m so in love with you, and I’m so scared of it.” (Y/n) confessed against his lips, words that made him groan while kissing his way down her neck. Tyler instantly found the spot that made her arch her back off the mattress, pressing her chest against his in search of more, of something else he’d be willing to give to her.

“I love you too, darlin’, fuck.” Her shirt was pulled from her frame, exposing her naked chest to his glistening eyes before his followed moments later. (Y/n)’s trembling fingers explored his abs, his strong muscles that tensed beneath her touch. Tyler allowed her to have this moment, to grow comfortable with this new sensation - all while he tried his hardest to slow down, to appreciate every passing second.

“We don’t have to do anything, I don’t want to rush you.” Tyler’s whispers left (y/n) smiling, unable to bite down the heat that found its way straight to her aching core.

“We’ve wasted a lot of time, I don’t want to miss another chance.” It was all he needed to hear before kissing her again. With his weight shifted onto his knees, he let his fingers pull on her panties, pushing them aside to explore her warm folds. Her bundle of nerves was pulsing in need, desperate to feel his calloused fingertips on her burning up body.

She got lost in the kiss, hands finding their way to his hair to pull on his roots while pressing her hips further against his touch. He mumbled something about her impatience, words she spared no attention to as he pushed two fingers into her tightness. A moan left her, a sound that was muffled by the hand she pressed against her mouth, scared to wake those who slept only a few rooms down from this one.

“Gotta be quiet, darlin’, don’t need your brother to kill me tonight.” Her soft chuckles turned into another moan as he sped up his movements. Tyler was teasing her, preparing her for his twitching cock and the way he’d fuck her to make a silent promise to them both, this was something that would last, something both had fought hard for.

(Y/n) struggled to keep breathing, pulled away from reality by his touch, the way he fucked her with his big fingers while rubbing against her bundle. Tyler parted from her to spit down onto her cunt, mixing his saliva with her arousal in an almost possessive matter that made her moan once again.

He could tell that she was already close by the way her walls fluttered around his digits, begging him for more he wouldn’t give her - at least not before burying his cock inside of her. Seconds before her high could drown her, he let go, pulling his fingers away to bring them up to her mouth. Wordlessly, she parted her lips, sucking his skin clean to taste herself on her tongue, a foreign sensation she couldn’t help but enjoy. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the way he looked at her. Perhaps she found enjoyment in the pride and love swimming in his darkening pupils. Whatever it was, it left her feeling eager for more.

“I don’t have a condom on me.” His words were panted, torn between too many sensations as her hands pushed his boxers down his hips.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean.” Tyler nodded at her words, telling her that he had been tested only a few days ago. She knew that she could trust him, that he’d never willingly hurt her, something she had never felt before - a newfound trust that left her nodding her head, telling him that she wanted this as much as he did.

“Look at me, darlin’.” Her eyes flickered back up to meet his, keeping her gaze on him while he aligned himself with her entrance, slowly pushing into her. For a moment, nothing could be heard, nothing but stressed pants and a silent whimper. Sounds that were tried to be muffled by a teeth-clashing kiss guiding both.

He moved carefully, pulling out and pushing in again to let her adjust to his size, trying to hold himself back from moving too roughly. Only as he felt (y/n)’s fingernails scratching at his skin did he allow himself to add more pace. Their bodies met over and over again, high on the feeling of his cock perfectly stretching her, nudging against her swollen spot with every thrust.

This moment was a consonance, a perfect blend of emotions and sounds sealing a deal their hearts had already signed. This was something for the long run, something both would pour love and effort into while trying to adjust to the newfound love and trust they’d need to share with others soon. But tonight was all about them, about the way their bodies fit together perfectly, how they seemed to belong together with their hearts beating in sync and their accelerating pants matching up.

“You’re so perfect, fuck, you were made for me.” (Y/n) could only moan in agreement, head tossed back, neck bared to his wandering lips. She moved a hand between their bodies, rubbing her pulsing bundle to give her the push she could already taste on the back of her tongue. Her free hand pulled him down, fingers dug into his neck to hold him close for another kiss drowning out the sounds of her intense orgasm.

Tyler kept snapping his hips, burying himself inside of her over and over again as her orgasm washed through her. She was trembling, begging for him to give in and feel the same intensity she had been a foreigner to until this very night. Just the sight of (y/n), buried beneath him with a love-drunken expression tugging on her features was enough to set him free. Tyler followed her down the edge with a groan, face nuzzled in the crook of her neck to deeply inhale her scent.

“I don’t think sex has ever felt that way before.” Her mumbled confession made him grin with pride simmering inside of him. Tyler lifted his head, he pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before cupping her cheek with his big hand.

“I’ll gladly fuck you like that every single night for the rest of our lives, given your brother won’t kill me tomorrow morning.”

[silkscream]

once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

[venerawrites]

Aww I love that you write for Kiba! He really doesn't get enough love so thank you! Can I please request headcannons for married and family life with Kiba, Kakashi, Gaara and Neji (with female reader)? Like being married and having children with them? They're my favourites and you write them so, so well. I hope that request is alright, please don't feel pressured to write it if you don't want to. I hope your week is amazing 🫶🏻

author's note: Kiba was one of my first fictional crushes and I totally agree he doesn't get enough love! Thank you so much for this beautiful request! I really hope you enjoy and that so far your week has been good! <3

➤ Kiba

Kiba as a husband is everything but boring!

During the first year or two, marriage would feel just like your relationship before that - laid back, chill and maybe a bit immature.

He is an amazing partner - he is very affectionate, never fails to make you smile and loves to surprise you.

However, when it comes to taking care of himself, he is like a big baby - I don't really see him doing any chores in the beginning of your relationship and even when he tries, more often than not he either burn or flood the kitchen.

Maybe it was fate or karma of some sorts, but I totally see you with twins or triplets!

If you thought life was crazy, wait till your house is full with hyperactive, unpredictable and loud Inuzukas.

Surprisingly, Kiba actually enjoy his role as a dad - probably because they all take after his personality, and tries to spend as much time with you and the children as possible.

Every time he has a free day, he organises a "family fun day" - more often than not, it is not that fun for you, as you have to run or yell after them to be careful while running/swimming/climbing etc.

While he would never get too much into housework, he will try to help around the house as much as he can, especially once you get back to work. (also, wouldn't do a good job and you would have to clean after his cleaning all the time, but it is the enthusiasm that counts!)

His attitude towards you would remain the same - he is just as in love with you as he was as a teenager, constantly trying to flirt with you with cheesy pick-up lines and smack your bum when you least expect it.

With multiple children, you probably won't have a lot of opportunities for spend time alone or go on dates, but you are both quite comfortable with your chaotic life.

He is definitely the laid-back and fun parent. Sorry, but you are going to have to be the "bad cop" - he can just bring himself to scold or punish your children.

He would often team up with them in order to prank you or his mother. Also, every bad word they learn by the age of six, is definitely his fault. (But hey, is it his fault they can remember every slip up?)

Kiba absolutely wants more children, so you better brace yourself, because I totally see you with another set of twins/triplets... it's these Inuzuka genes, what can I say!

➤ Kakashi

Surprisingly (or not so much since we are talking about Kakashi) your two children came before you got married.

You have been together for years and it worked perfectly, so what would a ring and a signature on a paper change? In the beginning, both of you were of the opinion "why fix something if it isn't broken?" and none of you see the point in marriage.

More or less, you were already acting as spouses - you tried to equally divide the household chores, but since he was working most of the time, you naturally took the role of the carer of the house, while he was the provider.

Once your first child was born, however, Kakashi started to seriously think of a change.

Since being a child, his life has been filled with battles, blood and loss - and he surely did not want for these things to be present in your baby's life.

However, change was hard and while he tortured his mind with ideas about how much happier you are going to be if both of you give up the shinobi life and move somewhere far, far away, he never voiced his thoughts out loud to you.

Kakashi is a very calm and loving dad - it almost come naturally to him, but you would notice something was bothering him, since as a partner he acted a bit more withdrawn.

When your second child was born, this is when he knew for sure he has to step down as a Hokage and retire from the ninja lifestyle once and for all. I imagine at this point, with two kids at home, you were retired as a shinobi.

When he brought the idea of moving in the outskirts of the village, he didn't expect for you to agree so quickly. You knew Kakashi for years, even before you got together, so you knew he really needed this break and detachment in the name of your family.

Once he left the position as a leader of the village, he focused 100% of his attention on you and your children - your oldest was a toddler by that time and while he felt sad because he felt like he missed the first two years of their life, he tried to enjoy every moment and stay grounded in the present.

He also finally decide it is time to propose and make you officially Mrs. Hatake - everything in your life was slowly falling into place and this felt like the only thing missing. (I imagine a small ceremony with both of your children as flower girls/page boys.)

Kakashi as a husband is the same as he was before that - loving, gentle, romantic, sometimes lazy, yet always attentive. The only difference is that he is even more relaxed and probably would pick up a random hobby such as gardening or maybe even writing?

Your have a very idyllic and peaceful life with him, and you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

➤ Gaara

Married life with Gaara is hard in the beginning.

His work has been his whole life since he was a teenager, so when you finally tied the knot and, a few months later, welcomed your first child, he didn't know how to handle it.

He tried to juggle his job and his new role as a husband and father without any help for the first six months, but failed miserably.

The long hours he spend in the office definitely affected your relationship, especially since you are the one who had to give up your career in order to stay at home and take care of the baby.

There will be a rough period of time during you will be either ignoring each other or fighting with each other. Each of you will be upset, frustrated and annoyed with the other, but will not know how to fix things.

Don't get it wrong - this man loves you to death, but this is all new to him too! And it is especially stressful, since he never had a proper functioning family anyway.

Eventually, one night after another fight, you will sit down on the floor and share (or more likely scream at him) all the pent up frustration and worries you had been keeping inside.

From that moment everything changes.

Gaara would realise he needs to spend more time with his family, so he will probably promote Kankuro to a "shadow Kazekage" or any other title, under which he can replace him in the office some days of the week.

You start communicating more and soon fall in a natural rhythm - he is definitely a man that likes to do everything 50-50 with you, including care of the baby and household chores.

A very gentle and attentive husband - he always listen to your advice and tries his best to keep the spark between you by organising surprise getaway weekends for both of you every so often or by bringing you flowers/gifts when he comes home from work.

I would imagine given his position, he would try to influence to remain at home - he has always been worried about your safety and the potential risk of his enemies targeting you, but since you were now also the mother of his child, his worry slowly turned into a paranoia.

He will respect your decision no matter what, but if you decide to go back to work at some point - he will forget his morals and will abuse his role as a Kazekage in order to arrange some extra security to be around you at all times.

I feel like he will be a very calm dad in the beginning, but the more his children grew, the more nervous he became - babies are easy to manage, but toddlers? Pre-teens? Oh, Kami!

Naturally, he is very anxious about his performance as a parent, so please provide him reassurance every now and then, just so you can ease his mind!

Nevertheless, he is great with your child and they absolutely adore him. If you had a girl, she will totally be daddy's girl. If you had a boy, he would dream one day to grow up like Gaara.

I totally see you guys adopting some family traditions like Sunday dinner, "come-with-dad-to-work" Thursdays or book Fridays.

Gaara is going to be satisfied with one child, two at most (only if they have at least five years difference).

➤ Neji

Neji was made to be a father and a husband!

Raised in a very traditional family, he has been dreaming about becoming a husband and father pretty much from the moment you got together.

I think you would be married for about a year, before your first child is born, during which you will get you own house in the Hyuga compound, arrange its interior and enjoy your life as newlywed couple.

He will never command you or restrict your freedom in any way, but he will definitely influence a lot of your decisions.

For starters, it is expected that you will stop working and become a housewife, as any other woman married into the clan has done before.

I feel Neji loves you enough to respect your wishes if you decide not to do it, but he will still insist being the main provider for your family. (Do not resist him on this one, it is quite important for him!)

That doesn't mean he won't help around the household, especially after your child is born - he is actually very, very good cook and will take care of your dinners at least a few times per week.

As a father, I imagine he is very caring and loving, but will become more strict as they start to grow older. He values fairness and order a lot, so it will for sure reflect in his parenting style.

Your child absolutely adores him though - Neji is definitely their role model and the best teacher. You, on the other hand, will be the more laid-back parent, using any chance to spoil them or treat them with some extra sweets/toys behind Neji's back.

Neji is very confident as a parent, so he won't really have any worries about how you are raising your little one. What worries him, however, is how much less time you are both spending together.

I think once your child reach toddler age, he would start declining more and more missions, so he can stay at home. I also imagine that seeing his growth and commitment to the family, Hiashi would involve him in the leadership of the clan.

He will still find time to organise little dates just for both of you or late midnight walks, when you can enjoy only each other's company.

He would grow more serious and less fun with time, but given how much responsibilities he how stressful his life is, you would try and support him in every decision he makes (even when you are not fully convinced by his reasoning).

Your love would blossom from fun and carefree to mature and responsible. (& tbh I think that is absolutely beautiful!)

Both of you want at least one more child, so I imagine you would get pregnant a two or three years after you gave birth to your first born.

cc artwork: Daniel Clarke

[lazycats-stuff]

What about male reader being Alfred's nephew who came to live with him because his parents died or were just unfit parents? Alfred isn't all too happy that he's here, but not because he hates him, no, but because Gotham isn't the safest place and the fact that he's bow living with the vigilante family isn't the greatest fact. I feel like Alfred would be very overprotective of his nephew, and just the family's reaction to Alfred's nephew, i feel like the family didn't really ask Alfred about his family and such .

Oh yeah, some Alfred for the soul. That man needs more love. Also, this will be under Batfamily since I'm too lazy to put a new masterlist for Alfred.

Summary: Alfred's nephew comes to live with Bruce and the rest of the fam.

Warnings: child abuse, mentions, mentions of what happened, everyone trying to make sure that (Y/N) is comfortable, Alfred being protective.

Alfred left the UK and London behind a long time ago. He had his training and career as a soldier and then as a spy. Soon enough, his path led him to the USA, where he got a job as a butler for the Wayne family, even before Bruce was even in the picture. It wasn't really easy to leave his life behind, but Alfred knew it was for the better.

He needed a new beginning after everything he has witness over the years. Especially since his sister cut contact with him. Alfred, while said, he knew he couldn't change her mind in the slightest. But that didn't matter today. What mattered was his new family and his four grandsons and son.

Yes, he did consider Bruce to be his son. After all, he did raise him from when he was 7. And as his four grandsons came along, he was happy.

As far as his old family? Around 13 years ago, his sister had a baby. A boy named (Y/N). Yes, Alfred kept some tabs on his family, just to make sure that everything was like okay back there. Years went by and when (Y/N) was 13, Alfred got a call.

It wasn't a pleasant one.

Alfred sighed as he ended the call, rubbing his temples, muttering a lot of unpleasant things underneath his breath. His nephew (Y/N) was taken out of his sister's custody because she was abusive in every since of the word. And in every shape too.

Starving, beatings... Neglect...

Alfred was really mortified and he could barley speak as he remembered the conversation... He sighed and quickly made his way down to the kitchen opening up the cabinet where he held the strongest drinks in the manor. He poured himself a glass of scotch, since it was the first thing he could see.

I downed the scotch in one sip before pouring himself another one. He sighed yet again, leaning on the kitchen counter, trying not to snap.

" Something happened? " Bruce asked from behind him and Alfred sighed for the third time.

" Well master Bruce... Something did happen. " Alfred said, taking the glass and turning around to face Bruce. Alfred knew that (Y/N) had to come live here... But this family is full of vigilantes... But this is also a safe space too.

" What happened Alfred? " Bruce asked, worried for the man. Alfred is often composed and sarcastic, but now, he was shaken and just... Sad?

" My nephew is in the custody of CPS, well, at least the British version. " Alfred started and Bruce crossed his arms as he leaned on the doorway.

" I didn't know you had a nephew... " Bruce admitted softly and Alfred chuckled, sipping his scotch slowly.

" Yeah... My sister cut contact with me a long time ago master Bruce... " Alfred acknowledged and Bruce nodded, not knowing what to say.

" Either way... I'm the only family he has master Bruce, which means he will have to come here. " Alfred whispered, downing his scotch again.

" That's not a problem Alfred. I'll make space for (Y/N), clear out one room for him and talk to the boys. " Bruce responded and Alfred shook his head, making Bruce frown and tilt his head in confusion.

" That's something I know you would do master Bruce. " Alfred explained and poured himself more scotch. " It's... You are Batman and the danger that comes with that name... I can't bring my nephew into more danger. " Alfred finished explaining and downed the scotch once more.

" It will be different. We will be honest with him. " Bruce said and Alfred did have to agree, they had to be honest with him.

" He will flying here tomorrow master Bruce, so we will need to pick him up. But before hand, we need to talk to the boys. And it will need to be serious. "

" Of course it will be serious Alfred. (Y/N) will feel safe here. And if any boys are out of line, send them to me Alfred. I'll call them down now so we can talk about this. " Bruce said before he went upstairs.

Alfred just finished a bottle in the meantime.

Bruce sat his sons down, telling them that this is very serious.

" Now, listen to Alfred intently. He is officially a lead on this. " Bruce said and sat down. The four boys looked at Alfred, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

" Well... My nephew is coming here to live with us. His parents, my sister and her husband were abusive to him... Physically, verbally... They starved him too... Either way, he is in a bad mental place. Which means that you four better be on your best behavior. No fights in front of him, both verbal and physical. Don't force him to talk about it and try to befriend him. " Alfred finished, looking at his grandsons with a pointed look.

" Is that all you had to say? " Dick asked and Alfred nodded.

" You have a nephew?! " Jason exclaimed and Alfred nodded.

" Okay, that... I thought you had no family. " Tim said and Alfred sighed and Bruce smiled sadly.

" I thought you were an agent for the MI6 and had no family... Like killed off. " Damian said and Alfred sighed yet again.

" Okay boys, that's enough commentary. " Bruce said and they all grumbled. " It's important that (Y/N) feels safe here. And Alfred has my full permission to put you all back in line. "

" As if he ever needed permission. " Jason mumbled quietly and Dick smacked the back of his head.

" Thank you master Dick. "

" Everyone, this is (Y/N). " Alfred said, introducing his nephew to his grandsons. " (Y/N), these are the infamous Wayne kids. I don't think anymore introduction is needed. " Alfred said, glancing at his shy nephew.

" Now (Y/N), let me lead you to your room. " Alfred said and gently lead (Y/N) to his room. It was one of the bigger ones, with a lot of room and a comfortable bed.

" Now (Y/N), are you hungry? Because it's lunchtime in America at the moment. " Alfred said as (Y/N) put a small suitcase on the bed.

" I could eat something. " (Y/N) said and Alfred nodded, smiling at the fact that (Y/N) would eat something.

" I was thinking about some burgers actually. I can make a good one, with my awesome recipe. Do you want to come down or do you want to stay in your room? " Alfred asked softly.

" I would like to go down... This is a nice place... " (Y/N) said, still nervous.

" I agree it is nice, now come on mate, lets go down. " Alfred said and let (Y/N) go down. Alfred gently led him down to the kitchen and (Y/N) sat down, the boys all around him, keeping some distance, trying to not make him feel overwhelmed.

" So... Is it true that the Queen is a lizard? " Jason asked out of the blue and (Y/N) rolled his eyes at that, but with a smile.

" She passed away. " (Y/N) said and Jason raised his brow.

" No. "

" Yes. "

Jason scoffed with a smile and Alfred listened as he started making the meat mixture for the patties.

" Is it true that people from London speak the best English? " Dick asked and (Y/N) rolled his eyes.

" It's not true. It's so far from the truth... " (Y/N) said and Dick chuckled.

" Well, the royals are there and they must be educated... So how come? " Dick joked and (Y/N) shrugged his shoulders.

" Is it true that gun control is tighter? " Jason asked curiously and (Y/N) nodded.

" Damn... Well, welcome to the land of freedom. " Jason joked and (Y/N) smiled, but it was tiny. Tiny as hell.

" If you hear a bald eagle screeching it means you have reached the peak of staying here. " Tim stated and (Y/N) rolled his eyes a bit.

(Y/N) turned his head when he saw Titus, the Great Dane walking in with his head high and tail wagging at the sight of a newcomer. Damian was ready to intervene if necessary, but Titus was calm with people.

Damian watched as Titus sniffed (Y/N)'s hands, licking them softly and then (Y/N) hesitantly petting him.

" What's his name? " (Y/N) asked, not sure who to ask directly.

" His name is Titus. " Damian answered as he kept watching, tilting his head in wonder.

" Is he yours? " (Y/N) asked as he scratched Titus' ears.

" Yes he is. " Damian answered and (Y/N) moved down his hand to Titus' cheek. " He is huge... " (Y/N) mumbled as he kept patting Titus, who was wagging his tail.

" He is a Great Dane so he is big. " Damian explained and (Y/N) stopped petting him, making Titus whine.

" He is a big baby. " Jason chimed in and Damian nodded.

Alfred put the things he needed aside and checked on (Y/N) and the way he was handling the situation was great. The boys didn't push him, joked about something with him... And (Y/N) was comfortable. That was the most important thing here.

Thankfully, Alfred and Bruce both have experience with sort of traumatized children so (Y/N) will be able to heal properly. And the truth about them being vigilantes... Well, that can wait until (Y/N) is more stable.

[therealslimshakespeare]

Hi! I’m an environmental eng girly myself so I’m sort of very interested in this (and also a new reader so please bear with me if I’m lacking on some knowledge here). The 1950s were just generally a very interesting time for women in stem/ engineering but obviously not great for equality still. For example, since you mentioned that Lu is from Texas, in the 1950s there were roughly 700 engineers working with the Highway Dpt of Texas and only THREE were women. So I’m curious, how does Lu handle/ cope with being in a field that would have her be surrounded entirely by men? She would very likely be the only women in most of her classes and professional endeavours. And I know you mentioned that when she works on that Twisters inspired Tornado project with those military boys, all of them love and adore her which I LOVE! Because she’s so smart and such a genius so it makes my heart really happy to see that that allows her to command respect 🥰 But in college, how does she manage being in a space with all these guys who might not all respect her (god like uni eng guys are a special brand of asshole, I’m not saying all of them but some…). Because I’m being so real- that is still an issue in engineering and still something that my girl friends and I have experienced/ felt 😅 And then also with environmental engineering specifically a lot of the work is sort of… rural and isolated. Like you won’t be working in a big crowded space a lot of the time. And being with all those guys, (also like… again, college guys are just a special brand of asshole? I feel like every girl would be out of her comfort zone if she were to be around only them, even now) is that something that induces anxiety for her? Does she ever worry that “putting herself in that position” is inviting anything similar to the horrific violence she’s already gone through? And then on the fluffier side, HOW does she persevere?! Because again we know she wasn’t doing well? I get the vibes from the asks that she was genuinely very depressed and not at all in a good place. So I’m just so intrigued by this era of hers. Anyways this is sooo long and convoluted feel free to ignore it haha. It’s just something that is so interesting to me I love this woman in stem so much 🥰 But yeah I’m interested in her college days and how she handles her horrible mental health, a very very shitty boyfriend and THIS on top of it all.

Oh and to add, we know that Ida worries for her often (along with the rest of the trinity), is she ever concerned about Lu being in those sorts of situations? Because Ida has so much complex trauma of her own (remember in Hardwoods how she has that thought that being alone with men is courting violence!!!!!!!!!!!) and she had to SEE Lu being assaulted? Just wondering because I love these two. And the rest of the trinity I guess. I know my parents would be🤧

Aaaaah see now you’re educating me about the Texan engineering!!! Omg that’s so cool. I knew it had to be slim pickings but goodness, three? Yeah, wow, ok then Lu, ya got your work cut out for you. Also, Nonnie, you’re so cool, I feel special for you gracing my inbox 🥰

Oh yes, just from acquaintance I am somewhat familiar with the engineer bro vibe, ha. Having come from the army has to help her a little. So far in the story we’ve focused on all the boys who love and take care of the girls as integrated into themselves, but you know there were the assholes in the 100th about it and you KNOW there were absolute pigs in the stalag, too. So it’s not a fully new issue. But, somehow this is even more secluded, likely? So, it’s intense.

I think she’s already very withdrawn during this era so she’s not trying to make friends with them all, if they’re assholes she does her best to keep her head down and then enjoys smoking them at tests or in the field. If they wanna play a practical joke to sabotage her?!- oh well, they shouldn’t have picked on Bucky Egan’s daughter. But omg, for all these women there’s the question of if they’re inviting that violence again by pursuing these careers and that’s so horrible to even be considered but it’s so real!!! My girl has her brass knuckles though, the (pretty worthless social friends from Spencer’s crowd) and a will of iron. This is the field she wants to work in, she always did and she happened to go to kindergarten in war for it but by god she’s gonna keep at it through college.

Also. Not wanting to fail. I think depressed and miserable as she might’ve been, failing (she’s so like Gale lemme go scream) would be worse than anything that could happen to her while she was trying. She’s so dogged about it, and this is something of her own, it’s not her crew and it’s not her squadron, it’s her. She’s doing this, and she might as well not get up again if she fails, I think is her attitude…when she’s so down, ya know?

Ida…for a long time Ida lives in a world where everyone could potentially be awful. She can’t contextualize it well. It takes a massive toll on her mental and bodily health, that constant alertness and suspicion and stress. Being in Germany likely only exacerbates that, tbh. Nice thought Rosie but, she’s having some severe ptsd just living amongst the language every day. 😭

[solspina]

In Unlovable Hand

Mephiston ⋆˙⟡

wrote this in 20 minutes, not proofread and it’s 7am. need this man out of my head immediately, i have a dante fic marinating in my drafts please let me release it… mephiston is holding me hostage (kidding of course i love you husband)

Sanguinius’ former serf is called to take care of the Lord of Death’s horribly neglected wings for the who-knows-what-number time. The tension is higher this time than it was the last, and the two decide to hit it off into something absolutely miserable. oh

warnings: some sanguinius x reader mentions, toxic relationship dynamics, manipulation, blood, lil bit of biting

Mephiston lay completely still, wings uncomfortably outstretched, eyes baggy and half-lidded.

His chest felt painfully empty, it always did, but more so in the presence of the woman who preened at his psychic wings and dug stubborn feathers out of the creases he couldn't reach. A servant of Sanguinius, she used to be. He could feel her persecuting gaze burning at the back of his skull (at least he thought he could), and he could feel her fingers pulling at some of his oily black quills far too harshly. Still, he did not move, his face remained expressionless and stoic instead as he wondered whether or not she had a knife tucked securely somewhere in her clothing, and whether he would feel it's blade make a home between his shoulder blades at any given time.

His muscles involuntarily twitched at the pain in his wing as she pulled out a particular feather, and his face contorted into a wince.

“I apologize… just a blood feather… It wasn’t quite ready but you will not bleed.” She whispered from behind him, taking note of the way his back muscles had tensed after his small outburst of pain. “The quill was cracked.”

She seemed satisfied at the way he buried his face back into his pillow, still clearly in pain. She stroked at the area she pulled the massive feather from with one hand as she held it in the other, watching it disappear like floating ashes into thin air as it were severed from Mephiston’s psychic bond with his wings, no longer tethered down to reality.

She sat on her knees while she continued her work upon the lord of death’s wings as he fought sleep, sprawled out in front of her like a bird on a surgical table. At the very least, the silk sheets the two of them sat on top of were comfortable. She could feel them on the skin of her legs and did not blame him for his display of exhaustion, or his frustration from the inability to fall asleep.

“I don’t think i’ve ever seen wings as unkempt as yours.” She said. She teased him to keep him awake, hoping that he wouldn’t fall asleep and leave her to sneak out of the room so she didn’t wake him. “I say this even after i’ve seen some rather questionable mutants.”

“Mutants were human at one point too." He replied rather harshly. "They can be communal, the winged ones will have their parents teach them how to care for their wings.” His voice was cold, empty but somehow aggressive and sour alongside it. Whether his tone was toward her or toward Sanguinius for giving him - and him alone - such a gift without teaching him how to care for it, she did not know.

A heavy pause rung through the air, and she swore she could hear his hearts pounding slowly in his chest. “Why do you only ever sulk when i’m around, my lord?”

Truth be told, he had not been prepared for her to ask such a question, regardless of whether or not he had an answer. There were many that could be applied to what she was asking, many reasons for his brooding nature that she got to see much more often than his brothers. Perhaps it was because she knew the angel personally that he felt safe enough to sulk and express his exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that he knew her opinion wouldn’t change no matter his mood, she would hate him for what he was regardless. He rejected his father’s gifts. He conquered them, and his own brothers hated him for it.

Astorath wanted him dead.

Dante almost approved.

Gabriel Seth spared not a single glance before he called him an abomination.

What was it she would do?

She knew what he was. The black angel, half of sanguinius’ soul, a vessel for the most horrible things about a man she loved ten thousand years ago. Even the care she provided him with, the preening of his wings and the frequent meetings with him, were simply an attempt at appeasing the angel’s soul. She gained time with a fragment of her long gone lover, and Mephiston got to pretend that someone cared for him beyond his use as a vessel and a monster.

As if feeling his thoughts, she removed her hands from his wings - modeled perfectly after his father’s - and placed her hands upon the cold skin of his back instead.

He let out a small groan as her knuckles buried themselves into his shoulders and ran down into the lower areas of his back. Her hands moved with greater precision than he thought possible up and down his spine, kneading their way through tense and aching muscles as his jaw fell slack from pure pleasure and his eyes failed to resist the need to roll back, or close, or something that wasn’t staring into oblivion.

“Relax, oh lord of death… am I hurting you?” She replied to his short series of quivering breaths and whimpers before he relaxed into her palms.

“No… just… feels good…” He managed to let out as years of aching pain were rubbed away by the hands of his father’s closest servant. She achieved with ease the effect upon him that the medicae strived for, but their hands always left his back sore and tight.

He hated this. He needed out. She was merely using him to get closer to something she missed and he saw that clearly.

“You’re just like the angel, when I did this to him for the first time.” She giggled, her voice full of warmth. His erratic breathing calmed at the sound of her amusement with his poorly repressed panic. “You’re finally seen, your flaws are on display, and it scares you. You want to run, to be perfect again, but you want just as badly to allow yourself to melt away… To not matter for even just a moment.” She leaned down toward where his head lay and flattened her hand between his shoulders, allowing her nails to scratch gently at his skin in comfort. “so melt, mephiston. I am here with you now.”

“Why are you doing this” He whispered, doing his best to keep his composure against the sensations she brought him. “Why are you pretending you’re not doing this for him.”

“Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?” Her voice was full of warmth, admiration, care, something he had heard from no one since the day Calistarius had died and the search parties had given up on searching for him. “And why do you lay here, pretending you don’t enjoy the company? I’m here because I lo-“

“Don’t you dare say that word to me.”

He turned to face her, propping up his tired body on his elbows and allowing deep brown eyes to stare accusingly into hers. He bared his fangs ever so slightly, attempting to intimidate her, but she simply smiled and removed her hand from his back, moving it instead to place her palm upon his cheek, ignoring his snarl and running her thumb along his ivory skin. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he held them in incredibly well.

If he truly wanted her silent, he could kill her effortlessly. It would take nothing more than a wave of his hand or a particularly accusing glance. He could boil her blood from the inside, rewrite her vital human functions with surgical precision using his mind alone. He could read her mind, find out exactly what she wanted from him, find out that she saw him as nothing more than a vessel for the angel, uncover her motives to use him.

“I will hurt you... do things angel never did... I am capable of things even he wasn't.” He whispered, his body eerily still save for his breathing. His hearts seemed to calm to a deadly pace, the hidden red within his eyes showing through as his face contorted into something far too empty for her comfort.

"I doubt-"

He grabbed the wrist that held his face and sunk his teeth into her palm. He fought the urge to smile through his own tears at the pained shock across her face. His fangs penetrated her skin like the nails that held a certain old terran messiah to his cross, leaving a wound deep enough that it would not ever heal, and perhaps would paralyze her hand if not treated in time.

The thirst had left him long ago, yet that didn’t stop him from basking in the warmth of the crimson that poured down his throat, some of it made its way down his chin and disappeared into the scarlet sheets beneath the two of them. He looked up at her and bit down harder before releasing his jaw, proud of himself for his reclaim of power over her after she had spent hours taunting him. If she did not hate him before, she had to now.

“Now tell me the truth, and i’ll heal that wound before it renders your hand useless.”

Her face remained blank through the tears pouring down her face as she sobbed and gasped in pain. Still, she placed her trembling, bleeding hand upon his cheek once more. “I love you.” she said as her vision began to fade to black through her pain. “Nothing you do… w-will… Meph…”

Her eyes closed, and her body fell limp against the mattress. He lay still again against the bed as he grabbed her hand and allowed his energy to flow through it, watching intently as her nerves, muscle, and then skin repaired themselves as if his teeth had never made their mark.

His wings manifested upon his back as he draped one over her, allowing its warmth to heat her body and radiate through her own aching limbs.

“Servant of Sanguinius…”

His whispers were near silent against her skin, his words more of a promise to himself than they were speech to her unconscious form.

“Servant of mine… Don’t make me regret this.”

[sebsbarnes]

phantom pain || pietro maximoff

pietro maximoff x reader

summary: i'm jealous of the rain that falls upon your skin, it's closer than my hands have been

warnings: insecurities, none really?? (i think)

word count: 2.9k+ ; angst, comfort

masterlist

a/n: this is a rewrite of a bucky fic i wrote 6 years ago but now much longer, better, and for pietro. sorry for grammar/editing mistakes that are prob here but still enjoy

pietro knew you had been hiding something. he had known you for three years and had been dating you for almost two. over the course of the months and weeks spent with the other he had grown accustomed to your silent cues. the silence that would consume you when tony's party carried on too late and you desperately wished to exit or when you performed poorly during training and steve berated you with tips. but mostly the silence that would linger around you when you were alone. not all the time, no, but there were times when pietro could feel and see the physical shift in your body language.

he never wanted to pry not as a friend or a boyfriend. pietro understood that every avenger has a past life, one that the others are unaware of. though he loved playing back the memories of his childhood and his parents, he too would shift into a silent shell of a person and he would want nothing more than to be left alone and not questioned. pietro loved the abilities he had but some days he wondered whether the extreme heat of his body or the slow-moving world around him actually made him sad. life was no longer normal, his body was no longer normal, nothing was normal.

this is exactly how you felt. the tragedies in your life were sometimes unbearable and if you could disappear you would but you had so much to be thankful for. if it wasn't for the accident you wouldn't be an avenger, you wouldn't have the friends you have, you wouldn't experience even half of what you've had now, and you wouldn't have pietro, the love of your life. at the end of the day you were alive and more than often, incredibly happy.

but there were those times you fell into silence over your newfound life, mainly the consequences of the accident. your memory still struggled, you were weak for a very long time, and when the weather got too cold you could feel the ache in your bones. you weren't like the rest of the avengers who possessed special abilities or were highly skilled in combat. three and a half years ago you were a normal person. you had a normal life, job, family, and friends, up until the accident. and every day the phantom pain reminds you of what was taken.

it was winter when you first met all the avengers. they all lived together and after you recovered from the accident, tony wanted you here, to live here. you protested the idea for a while claiming that tony's generosity was far too much. he had already saved you from the accident and offering a space to live and a job was incredulous, but after much debate you agreed. that first day you silently sat in the corner of the room while all the avengers had a meeting. you swayed back and forth in the rolling chair, taking in the information and occasionally stealing glances at a silver-haired man.

"and this is (y/n)!," tony exclaimed, "our newest friend here so please for the love of god be kind during the acclamation period. i'm already prematurely greying and i don't need anymore."

the meeting was over and one by one the avengers came to greet you, offering their names and welcomes and soon the silver-haired man approached you.

pietro stuck his hand out to shake yours. he found it odd that despite the room being almost swelteringly hot from the heater, you still had your gloves on.

"i'm pietro."

it was about three weeks later you found yourself sitting with pietro, clint, steve, and natasha. everyone was sitting on the couch talking about whatever topic you possibly could conjure up. there was a lull in conversation before clint spoke up.

"hey," he said turning towards you, "why do you have gloves on?"

it was as if clint never spoke and without missing a beat you stood up, looking down at pietro, "wanna help me finish building my desk?"

pietro hesitated a moment, eyes flickering over to clint, "of course."

pietro had come to learn not to question why you covered your hands in those first few months. any mention of you hiding them was never met with an answer. he was protective of you and he felt himself falling for you each day, and you the same. the two of you did a lot together, you cooked, clean, went out, watched movies, almost everything together and you loved it. it felt like home here and pietro felt like home.

it was a big dinner, the night you finally took your gloves off. there was no special reason why, to be frank, you just decided to no longer be embarrassed.

"c'mon kid we all got something weird about us. i play in a suit all day, cap runs around in tights, pietro is faster than the speed of light, and parker shoots webs... from his hands!" tony ranted on.

you sighed, "i know. i just feel weird on top of this because i am still new here."

"we all have been new," tony started, inspecting your hands one final time, "no one will judge you, kid, but take it at your own pace. you don't owe anyone nothing. well, maybe except me," he winked.

only two hours later you were all seated at the big table with everyone to eat. from tony, to pietro, to thor, to natasha, to sam, everyone was here. next to you was tony and rhodey, pietro across from you pulling funny faces while the food was served out. you fidgeted with your fingers in your lap trying to stall picking up the fork and knife. everyone had started eating and chatting amongst the group when you finally lifted your arms to the table and started cutting into the chicken.

pietro watched as you shifted in your seat, your forearms coming to rest on the white cloth and your fingers wrapping around the fork and knife. the first time he has ever seen your hands.

your metal hands.

after that night there were murmurs throughout the crew about the state of your hands. people were confused why someone who led a normal life ended up with metal hands, similar to bucky's arm. the word accident had floated through the air but you never commented on it.

winter had turned into spring that ended all too quickly and now it was the dead of summer. the day was slow and pietro was bored and craving movement. his head was hanging over the arm of the couch, his silver hair hung to the floor.

"want to get ice cream?" he asked.

"it's like you read my mind," you grinned swiping your wallet off the counter.

you and pietro wandered around town aimlessly before stopping at the ice cream shop. he admired the way you threw your head back in laughter and the way you covered your mouth when he said something outlandish. even though pietro's body ran warm he could feel the increasing heat spread throughout his cheeks each time you shot him a smile and his name rolled off your lips.

in an instant, he thought he ruined it all when he reached out and wrapped his fingers in yours. he felt your fingers twitching and the way you misstepped.

"i'm sorry," accent thick as he retracted his hand.

you smiled softly at him before gently grabbing his hand, "don't be."

it was that day over a hot fudge sundae that you told pietro what had happened. it was a horrible car accident early in the winter before you met the avengers. there were several cars and buses involved. not only did you lose your hands that day but your family. tony was also in this accident, his car had actually collided with yours, though his vehicle wasn't the one that caused your injuries. he had rushed to help you and immediately took on a parental role when he observed the condition of everyone else in the car. you were bruised and bloody with several fractured bones, but mainly, every bone in both your hands were shattered beyond repair. tony took you to his doctors where you all came to the difficult decision that your hands had to go, but tony offered you a solution. to replace the once skin and bones with metal.

pietro listened the entire time letting you go on and on to which you apologized for being boring. 'no dragă' he would whisper and you continued on with his thumb running over your knuckles. the gesture comforted you but the voice in the back of your head nagged that it was out of pity.

the months began to fly past faster than you could imagine. you and pietro were inseparable. anytime the members walked past the two of you they'd fake gag or pretend to cry. once wanda had muttered under her breath how she never thought pietro would actually date someone. you would only get shy over it and pietro found it amusing and would pinch at your cheeks. it was only when the two of you officially started dating when pietro would notice the different type of silence you'd fall into.

he would sometimes catch you sitting on the edge of your bed staring at your hands the features on your face contorted with disgust.

"what is the matter?" he questioned.

"oh nothing," you sighed with a fake smile, placing your hands beside you.

or the times pietro noticed the way you hesitated before touching him.

"am i that scary dragă?" pietro joked with a sickly smile.

your features would soften and the lines between your brows disappeared, "the most terrifying," you winked.

or the times pietro saw the way you gazed at other people's hands when they came into contact with pietro.

"doesn't his hair look good like this?" wanda asked you as she finished braiding her brother's hair. the two of them looking at you in the mirror.

you didn't respond right away. you were too distracted watching the way her fingers weaved their way through his silver hair and grazed his scalp while pulling hair into its pattern. with the most pitiful smile, you responded.

"amazing."

pietro knew that eventually, you would confide in him over the way you viewed your hands. he didn't want to overstep, that wasn't the relationship the two of you had. the late nights pietro spent shaking under the blankets from nightmares, you never asked him. you held him close to you and hummed a small tune to calm him down and you did that every night without fail. one day over breakfast he finally confided in you over the terrors that haunted his dreams.

what pietro didn't expect was that today on your second anniversary was the day you would finally scream your frustrations out. the two of you weren't doing anything special and nor did you want to. all the avengers insisted you at least leave home and do something for a little while. that's why you found yourselves lazily walking around a park, hand-in-hand, arms swinging and shoulders bumping. the sound of laughter echoed through the park and you swore the leaves shook. you were happy, beyond happy. pietro and you were madly in love and there wasn't one thing you could wish for, maybe.

suddenly the wind picked up and the dark clouds rolled above and unleashed raindrops that were nearly the size of baseballs.

"oh my god!" you squealed.

"it is so cold!" pietro laughed loudly.

you were squinting through the pouring rain, your hair and clothes plastered to your skin, pietro was dancing around in a circle with his tongue out in hopes of catching the water. pietro grabbed onto your forearms pulling you into him.

"you look so cute right now," he yelled over the thunderous rain.

"don't be silly! i look like a mess!" you giggled slightly swatting at his chest.

pietro leaned in and kissed you on the cheek. his smile growing wider as if his mouth was a plant and the rain was helping it grow. his fingers brushed the hair out of your face and kissed you once more on the forehead.

"there's so many droplets on your lashes!" you exclaimed. pietro watched your lips pull into a smile. the sun wasn't out but he could've been fooled by the way your eyes shined at him. he watched as you lifted your hand to brush the droplets off, and then suddenly, it all changed.

pietro watched as your smile dropped into parted lips of disgust and shame, your eyebrows pulled together in the middle, and rain was no longer the only thing running down your face. you faltered in your step backward and pietro reached out to steady you but you pulled back further. it was like you were a toy and your batteries had just run out you were so still.

"b-baby what is wrong?" the worried etched onto his face was almost painful.

"i'm jealous," you cried, your bottom lip shaking violently.

pietro shook his head, "my love what is going on? you are worrying me."

you lifted your hands in front of your face, your eyes trailed down every finger and across your palm to the back of your hand. the small metal panels almost mocking you as you could see your eyes reflect back at you. at this moment pietro started to piece together all the instances in the past.

"i can't feel you," you wallowed, "i can't feel your skin, pietro. my hands!" he watched as you stretched your arms out to show him your hands as if he'd never seen them before.

"i'm envious of everything that can feel you! the rain, your clothes, everyone else, but not me, i can't! do you know how badly i want to feel the texture of your hair or the tears you cry or-or the skin on your lips and i can't! i crave the feeling of you and i'll never get to know that. i want to feel the plastic of a pen or grass between my fingers or the calluses of training too hard and i'll never get that again. the phantom pain i have will never be as painful as never being able to hold you with my real hands."

as your cries grew louder the storm cleared up to let you have the stage. you stood in front of pietro as the shell of the person he would see those times you were alone silently observing your hands. even though he wasn't the one yelling, he felt as if his own vocal chords were being shredded, he could feel the chambers in his heart slowly start to shut down one by one, and the burn in his eyes was almost blinding.

he slowly stepped towards you cautious not to make you jerk backwards again. the tears in each of your eyes seemed to sync up and roll down together. pietro gently grabbed your hand, grateful that you let him, and held it to his cheek.

"this, my love, this is me. this is the me that only you will know and no one else. it is not the same as everyone else but different much like us," he said gently, his other hand gesturing between your bodies, "if i could do anything in the world, no matter the cost, to help with your hands i would and i am so sorry i cannot," pietro was now holding your face in his hands.

"but i want you to know i love you for everything that you are and i always will. no matter what the future has in store for us, in my heart, you will always be first. and- and i know there are other reasons why you dislike your hands but i never want to be the reason that you dislike something about yourself. maybe i can talk to mr. stark, yeah?" he pondered nodding his head rapidly, "maybe we can figure something out and give your hands an upgrade. maybe he knows someone?"

you sniffled, looking lovingly at pietro who was trying to think of any possibility even though you both had discussed in the past that there was nothing that could be done for your hands. that day tony saved you was the best opportunity you could get to help your hands and nothing in the world could beat it.

"i love you so much pietro, you are everything i could ask for in a boyfriend and more," you spoke, resting your face further into his hands.

pietro ran his hands across your shoulders and down your arms to hold onto your wrists. he brought your hand up to his face and placed a delicate kiss to your fingertips until all ten were loved. pietro pulled you into a hug, one palm resting flat against your spine and the other holding the back of your head. you leaned into his chest and let your ear listen to the thump of his heart. the two of you stood there motionless. minutes passed by and neither of you dared to move. to an unobservant eye, you two could've passed as a statue. two lovers forever memorialized in the dusk of the sky, the rain puddles collecting at your feet, and a love story forever admired over.

[lieutenantfloyd]

Rainbow Cereal and Morning Confessions - Cyclone x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: Over breakfast, you mention something that you noticed during the previous night, only for Beau to confess something that's been weighing heavily on his mind.

Warnings: Domestic fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of kids/pregnancy, Beau had a bad childhood and is bad with emotions but he's secretly a hopeless romantic.

Authors Note: This was originally a very different fic written with my OC in mind, but I loved this idea so much I couldn't help but rewrite it to post here! Based on some headcanons I posted in January.

Read on AO3

“You talk in your sleep.” You say between mouthfuls of colorful fruity cereal. 

He eyes you sharply over his newspaper and takes a long swig off steaming black coffee. 

“No, I don’t.” He answers dryly. 

You twirl your spoon and give him a toothy grin. “Yeah, you do.” 

He sends you an eye roll before pushing his plate away and returning to his daily reading. 

Several minutes pass by without another word, but the silence between you is anything but awkward—It somehow never is.

 “What exactly do I talk about?” He asks in a low voice, and it takes all you have not to jump up and kiss him then and there. 

“National secrets, mostly.” You deadpan before quickly shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth in a poorly planned attempt to stop your laughter. 

His eyebrows fly up so fast that you nearly choke. He leans across the table, using thick fingers to wipe away a stray drop of milk that escaped your mouth before leaning back into his previous position and waiting on you to regain your composure. 

“For real though, It was mostly gibberish with the occasional mention of pancakes.” You say nodding towards his plate. 

He sends you an annoyingly soft smile as a bit of color returns to his face. 

Your mind runs over his sleeping mumbles of the previous night, and you make a connection between his somniloquy and the handwritten notes you’d seen on his desk. 

“You never told me you speak French.” 

His handsome features shift into a look you’ve never seen before, and you feel his eyes scrutinize yours as if he’s deeply considering something. 

“Cajun French. It’s what my parents spoke.”

You nod softly, feeling suddenly awkward as you pick up on the unusual tone laced through his deep voice.

In the years between your first meeting and now, you have asked countless people—all of various rank and branch, along with a few civilians—about him. Your inquiries had always turned up the same. Nothing. No wife, no kids, and no known background prior to joining the Navy. He didn’t even have any social media to stalk. Aside from these intimate moments only you share with him, he’s a complete mystery. Practically a ghost.

“Were you and your parents close?” You ask softly.

“No.” He says. The finality feels sharp, but his tone falls flat. His voice feels nearly foreign to your ears.

His eyes fall to yours again, only this time they’re a confusing mix of vulnerable and guarded. You know instantly that something happened—something bad—and you choose not to push the topic any further.

You look down at your bowl, stirring the now soggy cereal around the colorful milk. He always chastises you for eating it, but it’s no different than how you nag at him for surviving off of coffee and pent up anger—a simmering rage so intertwined with him that you’ve often wondered where it stems from. Still seated in front of you, he’s staring off into space. You’re too afraid to ask yourself that question now.

“Do you want kids?” He asks suddenly. “With me, I mean.”

You nearly let out a playful—who else do you think I’d let knock me up?—but he still has that far-away look on his face, so you pause. Swallowing air as you gather your thoughts. 

“I… don’t think I’ve ever really thought about it.” You answer honestly, and he nods. 

“I hadn’t thought about it either. Not until you.” He confesses. 

“Having you in my life will always be the most important thing, but I realized that I’d probably like to be a dad.” He says. “And after I realized that, I also realized that I didn’t have anything from my own childhood to pass on to them.” 

You nod, rendered breathless by the conversation. God, he’d be a good dad. 

“Both my parents were Cajun. I remember that my mother was devoutly Catholic, and she raised me to speak French in a time when that just wasn’t what you did.” He pauses, only to resume after taking a deep breath. “I know now that they were complicated people. I choose not to think about them anymore.” He says in a voice so soft you nearly wonder if your mind made it up.

You nod along, giving him space to speak whatever is on his mind. You don’t let yourself question, aloud or otherwise, why he doesn’t speak of his father. 

“That was a long time ago—and a lot of the language is lost on me now—but I wanted something…positive…to pass on if I ever had a kid.” He confesses. 

You give him a soft smile before taking his hand across the table. 

“You’ve clearly thought a lot about this, and while I haven’t yet, I will.” You say. 

The conversation has taken such an intense turn that you felt shaky as you rose from your seat to clean up the breakfast dishes. 

You fall into a lull of comfortable normalcy, though the bits of his history he revealed hang heavy in your mind as you load the dishwasher. 

“Is there anything in particular you want to pass on? Anything I should learn…just in case?” You ask gently as you wipe your hands dry. It was a simple, genuine question, though by the gentle but shocked look on his face, you might as well have gotten on one knee and asked for his hand in marriage.

“I’ll think about it,” he says with the slightest teasing tone. 

You smile, happy to know nothing is weighing too heavy on him, and things are back to business as usual once again. 

“There’s a lot I want to tell you and more that I should, but..”

“Hey,” you say calmly “there’s no pressure. If you want to wax poetic about your entire life story or you never want to speak about it again, it’s fine. Childhoods are weird, and what matters is who you become after it all.”

He settles back into the chair, staring at you with nothing my pure adoration. Still, something has his shoulders tense, and something tells you that it’s the same thing that has words lying on the tip of your tongue.

“You’re a good man, Beau. And you’d make an amazing father.”

He rises to his seat, folds his newspaper—left over right, top over bottom, always—and drops it on the table. Cherry oak. Pretty, solid wood.

He crosses the short distance between you and kisses your head like the good man and partner he is. Without another word, he drops back into his seat and assumes his previous position, though the tension he always holds in his shoulders gives way just a bit. Sunlight has barely begun to stream in through the large kitchen windows, casting the table you are both seated at in a fresh, golden glow. A comfortable silence stretches between you as you finish the last few bites of your breakfast. He’s leaning back in his chair, legs crossed, though his left hand lays casually against the table. As the minutes pass, your hand absentmindedly brushes against his. He glances up at you over his paper, his eyes filled with warmth as a hint of a smile plays on his lips. 

“I know you hate getting up this early, but I like being able to spend my mornings with you,” he says as he encircles your hand with his own, brushing the pads of his fingertips over your knuckles.  You look up at him, your swelling as his words sink in. Aside from the daily ‘I love you’ s, Beau isn’t someone who ever verbalizes his emotions. Though he has never once held back from showing you just how much he cares. 

“Me too,” you reply. Your hand squeezes his gently, a small gesture that confirms you recognize the gravity of his admission.

The smell of his black coffee lingers in the air as you hear the world outside begin to wake up. You sit happily in each other's presence for several moments longer. The world outside the window feels far away and almost meaningless compared to the cozy safe haven of his kitchen.

Suddenly, you feel his shift and reluctantly pull his hand from yours. You glance briefly at the clock, laughing as the numbers confirm that he has only minutes before he needs to leave for work. He rinses his mug and sets it on a tea towel, leaving it to dry. He swipes his bag off the counter and leans in for a full, proper kiss this time. You smile up at him as he pulls away, knowing that no matter what his day ahead holds, the moments you shared together over breakfast will tide him over until he can come back home to you.

taglist: @marchingicenotes7 @bayisdying @princessofglitterland @bella-law @callsignaries @oliviah-25 @luckyladycreator2 @shakira-sasha @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @madamemelancholysstuff @paola-carter @barbiewritesstuff @dozcan123 @withakindheartx @nyx2021 @teti-menchon0604 @kmc1989

[divinesolas]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter 17 | Surprise!

Summary: You receive even more unexpected visitors and receive some upsetting news that you are not looking forward to.

Jacaerys Velaryon x Dunn!Reader

a.n: GOD SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT !!! i really appreciate all the comments and promise to get around to responding to any ive missed !! hoping to have this story done by the end of the month <3 im already working on the next one as i write so dont worry about another long wait i swear.

series masterlist

taglist ! (open)

@newestobsessionishere @alexa554 @th3b4tm4n @hazzapotter @claire-loves-music @tssf-imagines @melsunshine @majoso12 @brain-empty-only-draken @urmomsgirlfriend1 @emmalvei-blog

You had thought that would be the most exciting thing to happen, Joffrey would stay for awhile before he returned to his duties in the eyrie and then everything would go back to the sort of normalcy you had before.

Yet your parents received a raven that had your stomach turning inside out. “We are to go to the Highgarden's to welcome prince Jacaerys and his soon to be wife lady Cassandra Baratheon for their engagement tour, Highgarden is apparently the first stop.” Your father ripped the letter for your mothers hands and skimmed it over himself, “They are asking all the families to arrive and bring an engagement gift? this is ridiculous!” Dorothy, the head maid of the house scoff as she placed a plate of food on the table. “The nerve of them.”

You have lost all your appetite.

you measly push around the food on your plate while everyone around you erupts into boisterous chatter. "after that man publicly humiliated my daughter? they dare ask this of us? the nerve!" "maybe she could fake illness and wont have to attend the festivities?" "i can already see their snug faces as they look upon her ugh i refuse to attend such an ordeal."

When your hands slam on the table all chatter seizes and all eyes turn to you where you keep your head down towards the table. wordlessly you walk out the hall and the others in the room look at each other concerned.

you find yourself mindlessly walking through the fields as you attempt to catch your breath. it is fine. you were simply not chosen that is all. and now he wants you to attend his stupid engagement tour? for an engagement to a women that is not you? you fall on your back and stare at the sky in disbelief. this was ridiculous almost outright shameless to point you cannot believe it was his idea. Cassandra never did like you maybe this was her way of trying to stick it to you and laugh in your face.

your face grows sour at the idea of having to watch her snarkily brag with jacaerys on her arm you were going to be sick.

You had thought you were finally making progress moving pass your feelings for the prince but if anything they have only gotten worse. you think of him far too often these days especially with joffrey and trisk here. a part of you wonder if he thinks of you too. its a foolish thought, he had made his choice and there was nothing else to do but to live with it and move on.

You close your eyes and fall into a light sleep unable to continue thinking in reality and far more interested in living in dream land where he laid with you as well. hes there waiting for you, the familiar flower fields of your homeland being a comforting sight and with him sitting there you fell all the more better. He strokes your cheek gently when you open your eyes to greet him, a comforting smile on his face. “my love.” your eyes fall closed as you grab his hand and press it closer to your skin. “wont you look at me?”

Harshly you shake your head, though the limbo you meet him in is merely a dream the pain of reality still stings at your skin. “you will not even allow me to hear your voice my love?” you squeeze your eyes shut as he caresses your face. “it hurts.” his other hand comes up and plays with your hair, “its alright my love just look at me.” you fight with yourself for a few moments before your eyes flutter open and your heart aches. He looks as beautiful as ever, smiling down at you with moon crested eyes.

“there you are.” you hate the way a smile creeps up on your face and you especially hate the way his grin grows at that. “i hate to see you so upset.” this has you huffing and you try to sit uo but he keeps you firmly in his lap. “you have no right to say that to me.” his face falls and he cups your cheek as you turn your head away from him. “im sorry.” “then why did you do it?” your fictional prince has no response and thats because you have no clue as well.

as if he is a brush of air he disappears as you willed him to and sit up with your head in your hands. he had basically told you he wanted to marry you, scared off any other suitors you could have had gods you were even in a courtship before he wormed his way in and for what? nothing.

You force your eyes open and suddenly you are right back to reality where you huff as you shakily stand taking a deep breath as you realize the sun is much higher in the sky. how long had you been out here? you decide you should head inside before you freeze at the silence around you.

the fields especially this time of year are bursting with people tending to the flowers for the seasons prep but you can’t see a single soul out there. You wonder where everyone could have gone, maybe you are still dreaming. you walk back towards the castle once taking one last final look around before heading inside and you pause.

now you know this must be a dream because why would three dragons be sitting on one of the empty fields not too far from your home. you must be seeing things.

Yet when you walk into the hall you quickly realize you are not making things up or seeing things as when you pinch your arm the group of three stands before you and you feel your stomach plummet. “just the lady we wished to see.”

you find yourself bowing as your mind races trying to understand what was going on, “my princes, princess.” “just the lady i was looking to see!” “you honor me my prince.” lucerys eagerly walks over to you and grips your hands in his. “i have missed you. things ive been grim without you.” Despite how confused you are by his presence or even his words you force out a smile, “You honor me.”

You have no clue what else to say or what else to do. Every single pair of eyes in the room are looking upon you and you look down at your hands as you mind tries to make sense of this mess. thankfully aemond grips lucerys back and tugs him away from you. “he is as eager as always do not mind him lady dunn.” You’re more than thankful for the saving, you weakly grin at him as you still try to make sense that members of the royal family now stand in your familys main hall.

your eyes drift towards your parents who seem just as bewildered and lost as you are. You use the opportunity of lucerys and aemond bickering with one another to slip around them to go stand next to your parents who urge you next to them. “what is happening?” Your mother tilts her head down towards your ear and your eyes widen in horror at her words.

—

jacaerys realizes his life ie much quieter today. As he roams around the halls he feels as though he is missing something but he has no clue what. He’s done all his studying, hes sat through the unbearable meeting with cassandra and his mother about the wedding preparations, he did his afternoon training what was missing?

He tried not to think about most things these days. Simply allowing life to pass around him while he keeps a mundane routine but today was truly throwing him off. When he walks into one of the common rooms he stops before cassandra and aegon who seem to be chatting about something at the table but the two stop when jacaery approaches, cassandra even looks embarrassed that jace had walked in on them but he does not acknowledge it. “my sweet nephew! finally done being broody today?”

He rolls his eyes, why does he even bother but as he turns to walk away he freezes and turns back around. “Where is everyone else?” Normally the rest of his siblings and lucerys would all be sitting around with him but only cassandra is there awkward sipping at her chalice full of what he only hopes to be tea.

Aegons grin turns sinister and jacaerys feels a pit of dread grow in his stomach. “oh did you not hear? they left to the reach just this morning. you know, for your tour.” Jacaerys stares in confusion as aegon takes a happy chug from his wine. “the engagement tour.” “i know the tour you speak of.” Aegons chuckles fill the room as cassandra looks back and forth between the two men. “why ever would they leave now? the tyrells are no where near ready to host.”

“oh no. theyre not staying with the tyrells.” jacaerys head turns in confusion while aegon only seems to be happier the more and more this conversation goes on. “did they not tell you? the dunn’s will be hosting them for our stay in the reach. Theyve gone to go hang out with our good friend lady y/n.”

Aegon cannot stop the roar of laughter that bubbles up in his throat at his own words and he folds over in his own fit of laughter. Cassandra looks bewildered by this news and sits up straight. “house dunn? truly? i thought flower hall was a rather, small place.”

Her real feelings about the matter and the state of house dunn and its hall very clear in her expression and tone. She looks over at jacaerys too worried about his reaction to only see a blank look on his face as he looks upon the two of them. Jacaerys rapidly blinks for a moment before he slowly opens his mouth. “how pleasant.” after which he spins on his heel and walks out the room swiftly.

Aegon pouts as he watches jacaerys leave, clearly he had been hoping for a better reaction out of the crowned prince. aegon however turns back towards cassandra with a smirk. “bah who cares about all that though right? lets go back to what we were talking about.” A blush creeps up on her face as aegon leans towards her the conversation they had just had with jacaerys already gone from her mind.

[calliesmemes]

PINTEREST QUOTES WITH POTENTIAL

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS pulled from various quotations I have seen on Pinterest while creating boards for my muses.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

❛ Who’s a heretic now? ❜

❛ If I stay here, trouble will find me. ❜

❛ What’s it like to be so free? ❜

❛ I watched the whole world fall apart. ❜

❛ I am teaching myself how to be free. ❜

❛ The only solution is to stand and fight. ❜

❛ There’s something tragic about you. ❜

❛ You were never a saint. ❜

❛ To be a woman is to perform. ❜

❛ l speak in verses, prophecies, and curses. ❜

❛ Now I know what I was born for. ❜

❛ There’s a light in all of us, trying to get free. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ Look who’s digging their own grave. ❜

❛ Come a little closer, if you dare. ❜

❛ Family defines you, even if it demands sacrifice. ❜

❛ History does strange things to dead women. ❜

❛ I can’t believe the things I’ve done. ❜

❛ Hubris is a bitch. ❜

❛ It’s all in your head. ❜

❛ I keep my visions to myself. ❜

❛ We could be heroes. ❜

❛ Take my hand, and I’ll protect you. ❜

❛ Open your eyes. This is the revolution. ❜

❛ I am so much more than they told me I was. ❜

❛ Let me be your muse. ❜

❛ I’m not just a pretty girl. ❜

❛ Your fear of looking stupid is holding you back. ❜

❛ I wish I could be the perfect daughter. ❜

❛ I am not who I was before. ❜

❛ I won’t just be a puppet on a string. ❜

❛ If I can still breathe, I’m fine. ❜

❛ Straighten up, little soldier. ❜

❛ Am I a monster, or a victim myself? ❜

❛ This isn’t the way normal people live. ❜

❛ Your impression of me is wrong. ❜

❛ I wish I could let all this anger go. ❜

❛ I wasn’t born to be soft and quiet. ❜

❛ If I hadn’t fallen, I wouldn’t have met you. ❜

❛ Maybe there’s a hero in me after all. ❜

❛ I am happy anywhere that I can see the ocean. ❜

❛ They should be terrified of you. ❜

❛ I have seen the future. ❜

❛ Let go of the illusion that it could’ve been different. ❜

❛ My father is a good man. ❜

❛ I went to war with myself for you. ❜

❛ I care too much in a world that cares too little. ❜

❛ If it makes you happy, then it’s not a waste of time. ❜

❛ Speak your mind, even if your voice shakes. ❜

❛ You make everyone around you feel seen. ❜

❛ If you feel nothing, then why are you shaking? ❜

❛ Let’s run somewhere far away. ❜

❛ You carry your last name like a burden. ❜

❛ You are at war, even in your dreams. ❜

❛ We met for a reason. ❜

❛ I designed my own catastrophe. ❜

❛ You and I are the same thing. ❜

❛ Never let another soul tell you what to fear. ❜

❛ I have always loved the sea. ❜

❛ I didn’t say I liked it — I said that it fascinated me. ❜

❛ You will never be forgiven. ❜

❛ No one ever really dies. ❜

❛ Your son is gone. ❜

❛ Death must exist for life to have meaning. ❜

❛ Your mouth is full of white lies. ❜

❛ Loving me is a death sentence. ❜

❛ There is a thunderstorm inside of you. ❜

❛ Beauty is a weapon. ❜

❛ You haven’t even seen my bad side yet. ❜

❛ How do I stop the guilt? ❜

❛ I am a victim of introspection. ❜

❛ Love is what gives me strength to survive. ❜

❛ There is nobody innocent here. ❜

❛ You’ve seen too much too young. ❜

❛ I am not of mortal men. ❜

❛ Tell me what it’s like to conquer. ❜

❛ I like who I’m becoming. A lot. ❜

❛ I don’t believe in promises anymore. ❜

❛ Parents kill more dreams than anybody. ❜

❛ You are woven into my veins. ❜

❛ You are a diamond. They can’t break you. ❜

❛ I must not hope. I must not cry. ❜

❛ It’s no wonder that you can’t sleep — you’re haunted. ❜

❛ You are made of destructive magic. ❜

❛ You are so unique. ❜

❛ I myself am a haunted house. ❜

❛ You comfort others with the words you want to hear. ❜

❛ You’ll find love, kid. It exists. ❜

❛ You talk like a book. ❜

❛ You are one of God’s few mistakes. ❜

❛ I’m not capable of saving you. ❜

❛ Curiosity often leads to trouble. ❜

❛ I have crossed oceans of time to find you. ❜

❛ I can do this. Even if I can’t, I have to. ❜

❛ I can’t go back there! ❜

❛ Forests have secrets. It’s practically what they’re for. ❜

❛ Can you remember who you were? ❜

❛ Are you proud of who you have become? ❜

❛ I see in you an old soul with young eyes. ❜

[deathbxnny]

I’ve been busy.. but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming!

Can i request platonic Vi with a best friend that is like Wriothesley? I didnt realized how similar those two are until i saw Wriothesley’s birthday art. It’s just.. mind blowing. ALSO WRIOTHESLEY AND CLORINDE, VI AND CAITLYN. DO YOU SEE IT?! Personally, i dont ship Wrio and Clorinde but i can see why people even ship them in the first place. I see them as platonic besties who support their endeavor with their respective lover (Neuvilette and Navia respectively)

Context:

Reader and Vi met in prison and just clicked bc they just understood each other. When Caitlyn came to ask Vi for help, Vi also made Caitlyn to allow reader out with her as well. Whatever happens next is your choice to make but please also note how reader is from Piltover.

That’s all and have a good day/night!

(School is just.. really busy rn and i have my final exams next week. Im honestly scared, so i might not be active for a while here. But know that i do read your stuff to time to time to destress. Also i really like the post with my navia request, tysm ^_^)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Vi with a best friend Wriothesley-like!Gn!Reader.

Your words about the Wriothesley and Clorinde comparison have enlightened something in my mind lmao. Also, good luck with your exams, Flower Anon! I really, really hope that they go well and dw about not being active much! I appreciate your support either way and hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is from Piltover, past murders, crimes, platonic relationships, Vi and Reader being a menace duo, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You and Vi had your backs from day one after meeting in Stillwater. You were both teens then, having been imprisoned under terrible circumstances, and that made you stick together as a team. There was no one else to look out for you in that hell after all.

During your long, seemingly endless time in jail, you both got to know each other perfectly, with no details about your pasts spared. She came to know about your dark past and the murder of your abusive parents rather early on, yet never judged you for it. If anything, she may have been the only one to understand you.

This was surprising, considering your vastly different upbringings. Vi came from poverty down in the slums of Zaun, whilst you once tasted silver spoons and golden dishes on the daily. But it all faded in this hellscape of a prison, where you both endured torture and pain as equals.

You became an unlikely duo out of that, one that upheld a scary and menacing reputation amongst prisoners and wards alike. She was the more angry, violent one, whilst you were a bit of a joker, your words alone enough to send shivers down anyone's spines. It made you both feel more confident and hopeful, even if a way out was unlikely after many years spent in the prison.

Now, far into your adulthood, you decided to give up on that childish dream of freedom, accepting that your life in Stillwater is all you'll ever know. You were used to it by now and built a routine to follow and survive with. But things changed when that Enforcer girl showed up.

You didn't trust her at all, despite roughly remembering who she was. And unfortunately, she remembered you two, although for all the wrong reasons she would simply scoff at. However, since Vi decided to make a deal with Caitlyn, you decided to leave the past behind and simply accept this opportunity to finally escape this place.

And so, after what felt like endless years of fighting for your survival together, you were finally permitted to breathe, mostly, fresh air and live freely again... even with the grim mission at hand that often left you having to comfort Vi whenever things got too out of hand with her emotions. Hunting down Jinx was more traumatic than she'd let on anyways.

But alas, you eventually began enjoying your time out by trying new tea and pastries, running around your okd neighborhoods, and beating up people with Vi that wronged her in the past. It was all in good fun, even if Caitlyn had to hunt you both down every time.

You were the more calmer and gentler out of the three of you, however, as your rationality and ability to lead effortlessly often came in handy. You were somewhat of a balance between the two when things got really bad, despite your own reservations, and eventually ended up being an accidental wingman with how well you spoke of Vi to Cait. You knew firsthand how bad the prejudice against Zaunites could be and would be damned if she ever mistreated Vi because of it.

Ultimately, life turned out a lot more chaotic outside than it was outside of the prison... but with your best friend at your side, you suppose things would only get more interesting from here.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Nother Idea: Steve has a really bad migraine when he sees his parents for the first time post spring break from hell. He is still recovering from his injuries & his parsnts don't know how to help him. He is in tears begging his father or mother to get him Rob or Eds. And they have no clue who that is. The other parent finds a note by the main house phone and one by his bedroom phone with the names Robin & Eddie with their numbers. And they watch their adult son get coddled by a lesbian and a metalhead. Bsjsjcjdjd maybe they find out about the UD???

I TOOK A BREAK FROM PLANNING OUR WEDDING FOR THIS MY LOVE!!! You know how I feel about migraine Steve and you know how I feel about some good old hurt/comfort and how I feel about Steve's parents just being shitty always. It's like you wrote this request from MY BRAIN. It's a bit shorter than I could've done, but I am rushing out the door at this point and wanted to have it posted today in case I can't tonight. Hope you love it!!! - Mickala ❤️

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

Luck was never on Steve’s side.

He hadn’t slept more than a few hours in weeks, his brain and body constantly running through checklists of things he had to do and people he needed to check on.

It was catching up with him in the form of the worst migraine he’s had in months.

And now his parents were home.

He could hear them talking downstairs, their voices carrying and making Steve wince against his pillow.

He managed to close his curtains when he got up to use the bathroom this morning, but hadn’t managed to do anything else. Including close his door.

He hadn’t really expected that to be an issue since he was alone all the time.

His parents hadn’t been home in nearly six months. They hadn’t even bothered to call when the “earthquake” hit.

He kept his eyes closed in hopes that they wouldn’t bother him, maybe they’d even close his door for him if they thought he was asleep.

Wishful thinking.

His dad’s booming voice was suddenly right next to him, echoing around his room and his head.

“It’s the middle of the damn day, Anne! He can’t sleep his life away!”

Steve let out a groan, burying his head as far into his pillows as he could to avoid some of the noise.

His father would give up eventually, probably call him something terrible, be disappointed, the usual. But he’d leave, and Steve could bask in the peace and quiet again.

“Do you hear me, Steven? Anne, he’s ignoring me!”

Steve groaned again as he heard his mother’s voice from the doorway.

“Richard, he’s clearly hungover. We should come back later.”

Steve loved that idea. If they left, he could try to sleep this migraine off.

“I’m not just leaving him! He has to act like a responsible adult someday, Anne. We don’t pay for this house for him to spend his days hungover in it.”

“Not hungover.”

Steve’s voice was muffled against the pillow, his head pounding with every movement of his lips, but he knew he had to at least try to stick up for himself.

“So you’re just a useless sack in the middle of the day on a Thursday for no reason, then?”

Steve let out a whine at the sharp pains shooting through his head.

“Eddie. Call?”

Words were hard when your head was trying to implode on itself.

“Who is Eddie? Is that the person who got you drunk? I will not be calling this Eddie person, and I expect you to be up, showered, and dressed by the time we are back from our business dinner. Do you understand?”

“Robin.”

“Isn’t that your girlfriend? Is she responsible for this?”

Steve wanted to scream that the people responsible for this were dead or Russian spies who were hopefully dead and no thanks to either of his parents, he often spent days like this.

Not as often since he practically had Robin and Eddie living with him, but enough.

“No. Eddie.”

“Eddie isn’t your girlfriend.” Anne was closer now. “Do you need medical attention? You’re not making any sense. Oh goodness, Richard, maybe he’s having a stroke.”

His side was pulsing. Eddie said his did too sometimes, a casual reminder that they’d been nearly eaten alive. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad as his head, though.

He needed to get to his phone so he could call Eddie.

Eddie knew what to do to help. He wouldn’t be scared of his parents.

Just as he started to move his head so he could try to roll out of bed, he heard his mom speak again, much lower, probably directly to his dad.

He had extremely sensitive hearing when he had migraines, though, so he could still hear what she was saying.

“This note has those names with phone numbers. Maybe we should call them?”

“It’s just a hangover. He has to man up.”

“It just seems like more than a hangover. He’s in real pain.”

“You do what you want. Coddle him if you must. I have a business dinner to get ready for.”

He heard his father leave the room, but didn’t bother moving.

His mom was suddenly talking into the phone.

“Is this Eddie? Yes, this is Anne Harrington. Steve’s mom, yes. He had your number written down by the phone. He’s asking for you and he seems to be quite hungover. It’s not? Oh. Oh. Okay. Well, could you come keep an eye on him, then? I would appreciate it. I could pay you.” Steve heard yelling on the other end and tried to smirk, but his face was in too much pain. “Okay, see you soon.”

“Steve? Eddie’s coming. He didn’t want any money or anything to sit with you, but I’ll leave some on the counter just in case.”

“Loves me.”

“What was that?”

Steve turned his head to the side so he could say it again, emphasize to his mother that people actually loved him.

“He loves me.”

He was met with silence, but he was happy about it, his head still finding new ways to hurt even after 100 migraines.

His mom left the room, but he knew Eddie was coming, so he rested.

When he woke up, Robin’s hands were in his hair. She was gently combing through it, from scalp to ends, being careful to avoid any tangles that may have been hiding.

“Robs.”

“Hey Dingus,” she whispered, knowing he couldn’t handle normal talking voices when it was this bad. “Gave Eds and I quite a scare having your mom call, you know.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

“Eddie?”

“He’s downstairs giving your parents the riot act while he unloads groceries. He’s pissed.”

“At me?”

“No, never you. He’s got your extra strength pain meds that you were out of though.”

Steve had forgotten to get more last time he went to the store and he admittedly wouldn’t be this bad off if he had them ready to go when he woke up this morning.

But Eddie always took care of him and Robin always took care of him, and he was allowed to not have to do everything for himself anymore.

“It’s like you don’t even care that he’s hurt because of fucking government conspiracies!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Robin’s hand froze as they listened to Eddie and his dad go back and forth.

“The Russians almost killed him! Where were you? Not fucking here! The monsters almost killed him! Where were you? Probably on a business trip or whatever it is you rich fucks like to do with your time that should be spent checking in on your son.”

“Oh boy,” Robin slowly started to get up, causing Steve to whimper. “I’m gonna send him up here to cool off. Just breathe.”

So he did. He breathed in, then out, in, then out.

He did that until he felt Eddie’s hands in his hair, lips on his forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered against his hair. “Brought you some water and meds.”

“Yelling?”

“They deserve it. But don’t worry about that right now. Just take these pills and sleep. I got ya.”

“Got me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, always got you.”

He could hear Robin yelling downstairs now, but he didn’t focus on it, following Eddie’s advice and sitting up just enough to swallow the pills and half a glass of water.

As he fell asleep, he heard Robin whispering to Eddie.

“He’s got us, at least.”

“Yeah, he does.”

[bluesgrxce]

Michael Afton Headcanons (General + Romantic)

Warning: Childhood abuse

Mrs Afton will be called Clara and Crying Child will be called Evan. 

General

Life in the Afton family was never perfect. William often neglected his family in favor of working on his animatronics and Clara was always fighting with him because of it. This was the norm for Michael and his siblings, unfortunately, so they were used to it. (Not like watching their parents fight and being neglected didn't hurt any less, but...)

Michael was never as obedient as his younger siblings, even when he was a little kid. It was easy to tell that neither of his parents appreciated that very much and favored the others over him. At least Clara made attempts to hide it. With William, it was ridiculously obvious that he didn't feel unconditional love towards his kids, and that he only cared for them when they followed all his directions. So Michael got the worst treatment in terms of neglect. 

Eventually, the fighting got to be too much for Clara. She divorced William and left the kids with him, moving far away so she wouldn't be associated as an Afton anymore. This decision had a horrible effect on each of the Afton kids- Elizabeth became unhealthily attached to her father, Evan lost his only source of comfort (that wasn't a stuffed animal) and it made Michael's approaching teenage angst worse. Meanwhile William's only thought was "Hmm maybe I can design my new balleria animatronic after my ex-wife now... That way I can have another excuse not to take care of my kids 😻"

Being left unsupervised was the worst thing that could've happened to Michael. It gave him a sort of power he shouldn't have had, being that he was frustrated at his entire family and too immature to know how to deal with anger correctly. He vented his anger by becoming a destructive bully. 

At first he just bullied Evan because he was an easy target. Not Elizabeth though, she... Mysteriously disappeared before he could do anything too bad to her. But her disappearence only left Michael more pissed off at the world. He started bullying kids at school with his group of friends. They quickly became the tormentors of the neighborhood. 

Teenage Michael was a total shitbag, really. He hurt others because it made him feel powerful in a situation he was powerless in. Fun Fact: William hurts others to feel powerful too. Like father, like son. 

However, Michael's tormenting wasn't 100% just for a power trip. It was partly to get attention from his father too. He got into all kinds of trouble looking for attention. He got into fights at school, purposely flunked all his classes, made his abuse against Evan abundantly clear, etc. Nothing worked. So then he decided to involve one of his father's own creations in his next scheme... And that one definitely worked. But not in the way he wanted it to.

So Evan was dead. William wasn't pleased, to say the least. It wasn't the fact that his son was dead that got him, it was the fact that Fredbear's had to be shut down. His first passion project was ruined by his own son.

William started giving Michael attention, but not the kind that he needed. He began taking his anger out on him. Screaming, hitting, locking him in his room for hours on end... The list went on. Now Michael knew what it felt like to be in Evan's spot. 

But unlike William, Michael felt geniune sorrow from his brother's death. He never wanted him dead, he just went too far. If the guilt of that wasn't enough, nobody was understanding of him either. His "friends" ditched him and the entire town shunned him. Nobody wanted to be around him anymore. Not many people did to begin with, but now everybody acted like he was an apathetic murderer. (Everybody acted like he was his father...)

He was forced to spend the rest of childhood in isolation. When he wasn't isolated, he was with his father, only piling the mental and physical scars on top of each other. He transitioned from bitter and angry to terrified and ridden with guilt.

He learned his lesson about being an asshole, but he's been beat down so many times that he's afraid to get back up. He just took all the negativity that was thrown at him. He believed that he fully deserved it and that he didn't deserve a happy life. (Because he knew his father sure didn't...)

His only source of comfort at this time was watching TV. The TV raised him when his parents didn't, so... Basically always. One of the reasons he kept going was so he could catch the new Immortal and The Restless episodes. 

Okay this is really stupid and out of place but I like to think this is what it looked like when Michael first discovered Immortal and The Restless:

Once Michael finally became an adult, he was ready to run away from it all. He knew that he didn't deserve to be happy, that he was a monster just as horrible as his father was, but he couldn't take it anymore. He wasn't strong enough. 

So he took a page out of his mother's book and moved away. He didn't have enough money to move too far away, sadly, but he got far enough that nobody in town could recognize him. That's exactly what he was searching for. He desired a chance to start anew.

He didn't want to be Michael Afton anymore. Michael Afton was a murderer, a tormenter, a coward. He wanted to be a better person now, but he was convinced Michael Afton could never be better. Leading him to change his identity once he finished moving.

Michael Afton was dead. He was Mike Schmidt now, and Mike Schmidt was an incredible man. He was friends with all his neighbors, he was hard working, he never caused a bit of trouble. And he always smiled. Never a creepy and unnerving smile, but a warm and pleasant one. 

This change did help him a bit. He was being treated like a person again instead of a monster, so that was appreciated. But it did a lot of harm too. He was pushing down all of his feelings and ignoring his problems. They were Michael Afton's problems, not Mike Schmidt's, after all. He was masking his true self and hiding it all with a grin. (He's like his father no matter what he does...)

However, this new life didn't last long. Everything stopped when he got a phone call from William. It was a sickeningly polite request, asking him to go down to Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental, only for a simple week long shift. 

Naturally, Michael was furious. He didn't want to accept a single request from that asshole, especially not now! He was still reinventing himself! He was ready to decline until William brought up the true reason why he wanted Mike down there- To free his little sister. 

Mike was in awe. This was a chance to fix his past mistakes. Not all of them, of course, but he could make up for at least one part of the past. Though he was reluctant to have anything left to do with those bastardly animatronics, he felt like he had to do this. He gathered his courage and accepted, not knowing what was ahead of him. 

The universe must have decided that he hadn't paid enough for his mistakes, because he ended up literally dying and then having his corpse used as a disguise for murderous animatronics. Not fun. Even when Ennard finally left, he just felt... Empty. Both physically and mentally. He wasn't even sad about it. He was accepting.

This was a natural punishment for trying to run away from his past, he assumed. Mike always thinks he deserves the bad things that happen to him. But, he also realized... When did his father ever get punished for something?

It just wasn't fair. William got away with everything while Mike was the one who had to pay for it. He did some terrible shit when he was younger, he knows, but wasn't this enough? When was William going to pay for slaughtering children for his selfish experiments and power trip? 

In that moment, he knew what he needed to do. He had to kill his father and get revenge. He needed to free the rest of the souls like he did with his sister. That way, he could finally be at peace. 

From then on, Mike was the best version of himself. He still made an effort to keep up his new identity, but he wasn't trying to run away anymore. He was scared and he was battling mental health issues everyday, but he was determined now. And nobody could stop him. 

Romantic

Let's say you fell in love after he moved and changed his name, so you didn't know about his past. He wouldn't tell you the truth for the longest time. Mike sees you in an extremely high light. You've got so many good qualities about you, and he's... Just some cowardly asshole who lives a lie. But you don't know that. You think he's great too. And fuck, he loves that, he wants it to stay that way so badly. He really does want to be with you. 

So he stays as Mike Schmidt. He wouldn't mention a word about Michael Afton, his family, or anything to do with Freddy Fazbear's. Forget Fredbear's. He refuses to be a part of that. Most of the time he just dances around the subject when it's brought up, but he's willing to flat out lie if he has to. He doesn't understand that having a relationship built on lies isn't the best idea. 

Besides that stuff about lying to you, I don't think he'd be too bad of a partner. He loves you so much and wants the best for you. He'd work hard so you could have everything you need/want. But since he works so much, it's hard to find time to spend together. Especially whenever he's working the night shift.

When you do find time, you probably won't be going out on dates. He's paranoid and avoids going out when he can. So you'll likely be at home, whether you're resting in bed or watching Immortal and The Restless together. 

While he was working at Circus's Baby, he always made it a point to call you after 6AM and let you know he was on his way home. You didn't know that, truthfully, it was just his way of letting you know he was still alive. 

He's also a protective boyfriend. Though he doesn't like going out, he would force himself to get past his fear and go out with you when you have to leave. He'll accompany you on trips to the grocery store or other errands. He makes sure to write down your work phone number somewhere safe, so he can call you during your breaks and make sure you're okay. 

And in a way, him lying about his past is a way of protecting you, too. You could get hurt if you get involved. So he buries all the pain and wears a smile, no matter how much it hurts. When he has sudden flashbacks to his father's abuse or the death of his brother, his grin only falters for a second. He considers this his way of being strong. 

Mike can't hide it forever, though. He'll be forced to confess after he gets scooped, because... Well, imagine trying to hide purple skin from somebody you see every day. You'll have to talk some sense into him though- He needs to be convinced that he can't handle everything on his own and that this isn't some punishment for his sins. So weirdly enough, him getting scooped wasn't entirely bad? Because it made your relationship stronger and he's better off, now that he has a goal and somebody to support him along the way. 

But that didn't mean everything was sunshine and rainbows now. For one thing, his appearance is pretty fucked up, and not in the hot way. It's just another thing to add to the list of insecurites. He worries that you'll leave him for somebody better. He avoids physical affection as well, because he's sure you wouldn't want to touch him. 

You can help by giving him lots of reassurance, though. He likes being called handsome even if he doesn't believe it, and it feels good knowing you're always there for him. 

This might be an unpopular headcanon, but I honestly think Michael would want to get married. Probably not when he was younger and the wounds from his trauma were fresh, but once he's older and more healed. Just because his parents' marriage didn't turn out well doesn't mean that yours won't. There probably won't be an official ceremony, there might not even be any official documents saying you got married, but he would buy a pair of rings so you could say you were anyway. It's still marriage to him. 

No kids though. He's still intensely afraid of having one of his own to take care of. The next best thing is Helpy 💀 But speaking of Helpy, the only Fazbear restaurant he'll let you go to is the one from Pizzeria Simulator. It's the only place he has any control over things, so he wouldn't be on the verge of having a panic attack everytime you got near an animatronic... But maybe you still don't need to be around those high risk ones...

Oh, and don't worry, he won't stick around in the fire like he did at the end of the game. I believe the only reason he did that was because he didn't have anything else. This family drama was his whole life, his whole purpose. So he thought it was only right to pass on with everybody else then. 

But with you here now, he can't just leave you like that. Not as a single parent caring for Helpy! So you three can finally live that happily ever after without having to worry about any murderous animatronics or people in bunny suits again.

Haha, yeah... Definitely... 

[hotchfiles]

lovers wait.

pairing: james x reader (as plot device), remus x reader

content warnings: mostly teen angsty (small problems turned into huge life altering situations because of feelings and hormones) and a bit of fluff. steamy make out at the end but nothing pass that. underage drinking. mentions of throwing up (nothing graphic). reader insert with no use of names or “y/n”. just teens being teens.

word count: a bit over 3k

Loving James was easy. Too easy almost. You didn't share similar personality traits and you didn't like quidditch all that much, but you met James when you were both just seven year old kids who happened to become neighbours.

Talking to James was easy, you didn't mind saying the wrong thing to him, or sounding dumb or silly, after a guy catches you peeing in a pool and throwing up in the middle of Diagon Alley, there's no much else you can do to be embarrassed about.

Being around him was easy. Too easy. So when he asked you out by fifth year, it seemed like the right thing to do. And the date was good, it was fun, it was just like hanging out with a friend.

Kissing James was easy. Too easy. No butterflies, no blushing, no kicking your feet thinking about it. But he was James, everyone believed you would be married by the end of school years, your parents and the Potters often talked about how it's going to be beautiful to have both families united like that.

It was familiar, it was fine, it was... Was it really supposed to feel so bland? You often wondered, but by then you were already officially dating and you were more often than not found around him and his friends, merging both friend groups, boys and girls, into one.

You all spent a lot of time on Gryffindor's common room, where you would read while, like right now, passing your fingers through James' hair and waiting almost excitedly for Remus' commentary, as you were coincidentally, constantly, reading the same book.

"C'mon, all girlfriends wear it and go cheer their boyfriends during matches, please, please, pleaseeee do this for me." James lips opened once more to whine about how you were a terrible terrible girlfriend for not going to quidditch practices or games and not wearing the red shirt with his name. Rubbish, you always thought, you went to finals, that was more than enough.

"James it is not my fault you decided to play such a toss of a sport, I already have to avoid enough bludgers on the games I do go." You said in a firm tone, but still hoping just him would hear it, of course that was a only a hopeful dream, as every single one of your friends groaned at you, all of them siding with James, were you that bad of a girlfriend?

You just didn't feel like going, and didn't think your cheering on him was that big of a necessity, his abilities wouldn't suddenly get better, would it?

You looked at Remus hoping he would help you out, as he was the one who understood you the most there, he liked books, and tea, and warm sweaters, getting chocolate as a treat and being comfortable in silence. But all you got was a shrug, "I do watch James play all the time, Grumpy, can't help you, and I don't even get a snog after." you and James both snorted at the term, during those three months of dating you had kissed a lot of times, mostly pecks though and even deeper kisses wouldn't go as far or passionate as a proper snog. It was gentle. It was familiar. It was nice. It was easy.

Remus instantly noticed he had struck a nerve, being as observant as he was, and he glanced quickly between Lily and Sirius, the only two who knew his secret, the only ones who saw him actively fall for his best mate's girlfriend. Lily knew because after a while all she could notice was how Remus looked at you the same way she looked at James. Both suffering of the same evil.

Sirius got pulled in the loop after he told Remus he found the way you two dated very... Weird. It was all the three could talk about after, Remus insisting they shouldn't meddle, saying you were just a reserved person, Lily and Sirius saying that James wasn't and he also didn't make much effort to touch you. It was a whole conspiracy club talk point.

But now Remus had some sort of proof it wasn't just you and James avoiding eyes, you two weren't couple-ly alone either, that reaction for a simple snog comment gave him hope he didn't feel before, burning bright as his heartbeat got twice as fast, he just needed to wait.

And wait he did, enjoying his time with you in the library, secretly finding ou what book you were beginning to read so he could do the same and have more to talk about with you, he would get up earlier than normal just to wait for you, as you always took time to read before getting ready for the day, he waited for your presence in each decision he made for his day, when your classes would end so he could wait outside and walk you wherever you were going.

Remus was always observing quietly what made you laugh, and what made you angry or sad, trying his best to be as close as possible while still being loyal to his friendship with James.

It felt almost suffocating to you, not in a horrible way, but you were always counting the minutes for when he would show up and stumbling around your words to answer to his questions about you and your childhood and how your day was. He was always around, his cologne making you feel weird, but you enjoyed the company, especially when James was always busy with quidditch and would never read your recommendations.

It was a particular cold morning and you had forgotten your scarf and would be late to class if you went to get it, so all you could do was shiver and complain to your friends and boyfriend, hoping for at least the comforting words of understanding.

"Grumpy, take this and stop complaining." You heard Remus respond, the only one who would call you that, and you actually enjoyed it even if it wasn't a flattering nickname, the sound coming from his lips was amusing, pretty, it got you warm without anything else. You looked at him thinking he would give you something to warm you up, and you were almost right as he got closer to you, your breath suddenly weakened by the proximity, feeling the fabric of his scarf on your neck after he took his own and put it on you, adjusting so it would maintain your face warm as well if you looked down.

You didn't stop shivering though, feeling chills run through your body as the warmth of his voice touched your cheek, "better?"

You nodded quietly, but you felt sick under his eyes, you were positive you were going to hurl as your stomach wouldn't stop twirling around. It felt like an eternity, like the world had stopped, but it was only a few seconds.

You spent the rest of the day lost in thought, repeating those seconds in your mind countless times and some of the times wishing it ended with a kiss. James didn't even think to give you his scarf or jacket, and you couldn't even blame him, it would not be your first thought if it was the other way around.

But it was for Remus. And you felt that sudden urge in the pit of your stomach to be around him all the time, hell if you could catch a glimpse of his eyes you would even watch quidditch matches. Lucky thing he didn't play.

You felt like you were going insane, truly going mad and it just got worse right before you and James got to the six months dating mark, you sent a letter to your mother, asking her to send some special chocolates "like from other countries and stuff, mum" you said quickly in the note your owl delivered her, your mother obliged happily, suspecting it was a gift for James.

But it wasn't. You had told Remus your father always got you different chocolates when he traveled, and he got so excited you just had to get him some, you were blushing just at the imagery of him happily eating those.

It all came crashing down on you when you finished wrapping them, Lily asking if it was a six months gift for James.

You weren't even keeping up with how many months had passed, so obviously you didn't even think about buying him anything. You were definitely going mad, your heart broke at how badly you were treating your best friend, you first friend, your first kiss.

The fact you had to do something about it made your body itch, already uncomfortable with the idea of losing James.

That day you left the gift you got for Remus in your room, wore Gryffindor colors, wrote Potter on your forehead with red paint and cheered as your house team won the match against Ravenclaw. You saw how happy he was and you held in your tears feeling absolutely awful for what you were about to do.

His eyes sparkled when he noticed you, running to you and surrounding your body with his arms in a familiar hug, a kiss on the forehead where his name was written, "I can't believe you came, it wasn't even an important game."

"You're important to me and I realized I haven't shown that well enough." You hardened your grip around his waist, tears fighting the way down your cheeks. You looked up at him and his eyes changed, confusion and worry taking in, but before he could ask anything, you took his hand, pulling him with you far from the Gryffindor mass of people in the field.

"What's going on? Why are you crying? You know I'm not good with tears, please," he blurred out as soon as you stopped walking, worried sick that something had happened to you.

"I don't think we can keep dating, James." It was a whisper and it wouldn't be heard if you weren't so close to each other and so far from everyone else. Your eyes closed with as much strength as you could, tears being forced down by it. You kept your arms hanging by your sides, feeling unworthy of hugging him, and you waited what felt like an eternity for him to be mad, angry, you waited for the questions and the guilt. But it never came, so you opened your eyes and he was... Smiling.

Relieved.

"Thank god, Merlin, thank god, I thought I was mad for a minute there." He finally let out, you could feel how happy he was just by the tone of his voice, that was not at all the reaction you were expecting, it was better, obviously, but you were simply speechless and confused, not knowing how to reply to his relief, so he just kept going, sitting on the grass and pulling you down with him. "My mum told me we should go out and I thought maybe she was right. She was not."

"Why didn't you say anything? I was almost crying the whole game, and I look pathetic right now because I wanted to please you before destroying your heart."

The laugh you got from him with that was almost inhuman, and you weren't sure if it was because the thought of his heart being destroyed by you was too unreal or because you did look pathetic with his name written on your forehead.

"At first I thought it was supposed to be like that... Or that it would change with time." He looked up to the sky, the sun still out but not bright enough to hurt his eyes, he took a deep breath and shook his head, laughing again at the situation. "And then months went by and I was terrified I was going to hurt your feelings."

"Apparently our six months anniversary was to come this week." The fact he obviously had no idea, just like you, made it all even funnier, ironic even. "So I did what every good girlfriend would do. I bought expensive candy to one of your best mates."

"Nooooo, good Godric, woman, I thought I was an arsehole, you always surprise me." His dramatic silly response earned him a slap on his arm, strong enough to hear a loud yell from him as he felt it.

When you came back to the common room it was full of life and irresponsible drunk teens, you were happy with how things turned out but not at all in the mood to deal with that, so you went to your room, hoping to get clean and be alone with your thoughts for a bit.

You found Remus waiting at your door, messy hair, red eyes and nose, an empty cup of what you imagined was firewhisky in hand. "Been waiting for you." Your whole body trembled, he looked and sounded gorgeous even drunk.

"Sorry, I had to talk to James." You answered with a smile and you felt his eyes burn into your soul as he looked at your face, especially your damn forehead, Remus closed his eyes for just a second, licking his sudden dry lips before speaking again.

"You and Potter," he pointed at the name, smudged already, with the hand that was still holding the empty cup, "doing well, and I... Was waiting." You tilted your head, confused at the scoff he added to the end, the game wasn't even finished that long ago. You tried to touch his hand but he refused the touch. "If I wait long enough they will see." Remus chuckles, but his eyes are sad, you can see it, you've been used to his warm eyes and they looked cold, lifeless.

"Remmy, you're drunk, let's get inside, I've got you those chocolates we talked about!" You say eagerly, opening the door and hoping the promise of sweets would be enough to get him inside and sit him down on your bed, you were worried he would fall off the stairs at that state. You leave the door open as you get inside, getting the package you so carefully wrapped, showing him with excitement.

He was careful, slow, confusion written on his face as he took his steps towards you, blinking quick and hard trying to sober up, he left the cup on your nightstand and took the gift from your hands, both of you not making any sounds, the heavy breathing from both filling the room as he unwrapped it and saw how many different brands and flavors filled the box you gave him. "Why... You didn't have to... I don't..." Before he could go on a spiral of not deserving such treat, your index finger glued to his lips, stopping him.

You felt his lips quiver under your touch and that sent chills down your spine, you were unable to move, unable to speak, you were nervous, afraid you were going to do something stupid, scare him off. His eyes suddenly regaining that warmth you knew it fit him so well, if only for a second.

Remus opened his mouth and you dropped your hand on instinct, "I... love you, so I waited. Was sure you and James would break up." Your eyes widened at the confession and explanation for the obsessive talk about waiting. "Think not." He shrugs, eyes on your forehead and you quickly scrubbed your palm on the paint, trying to get it off, your focus going everywhere and nowhere at all, all at once.

You felt like your heart was about to beat itself out of your mouth, "this stupid thing was to break up with James, I wanted to be a nice girlfriend to him at least once." Remus heard that and without a word left your gift to him beside the firewhiskey cup, reaching out to you, strong and needy as one of his hands went straight to the small of your back, earning him a quick sigh from you, mixture of surprise and pleasure, he took your chin with his free hand, lifting you to face him.

You held your breath without even noticing, counting the seconds for him to finish his move, but Remus didn't, he just looked at you for seconds too long, you battled your nervous system and let your desire for him win, pulling him closer by his neck until your lips finally touched.

Just that little touch was able to flush your cheeks, feelings you couldn't comprehend or explain yet rushing through you as his tongue asked for permission to deepen the kiss, which you gladly give.

His lips were soft on yours but his hands now holding your waist were definitely not, the mere thought of having them mark the sides of your body giving you the confidence to pull his bottom lip lightly with your teeth, and Remus moaned, obviously enjoying it and you could swear to any god that you would do anything asked from you just to be able to keep getting those sounds from him.

You walked backwards to your bed, his lips leaving yours for air but quickly going to your neck as he followed your steps, you sat down and pulled him with you, laying on your pillow and feeling his weight over you, it was your time to moan feeling his leg in between your thighs as he switched between soft kisses and strong sucking your neck.

When your hands went to get his shirt off and his went up your skirt you realized what was almost happening, reality settling in above the teen hormones, "Rem, Rem." You put both palms up his chest, making him lift from his original position, the lack of his weight and warmth over you almost too much to bear. "You're drunk... and I... I've never done this before so... Could you wait a little more for me?" you were concerned for him, obviously you didn't want him to do anything he would regret, but you still felt embarrassed by your confession, being a virgin at fifteen was not weird at all, it was the norm, but still it felt weird to say it after all the feelings that made you burn for Remus just right now.

"Will always wait for you, Grumpy." He pulled you into a warm, strong, side hug, kissing the top of your head as his hand caressed your arm, up and down.

"Guess I did get a proper snog after cheering on James." You laughed, and he laughed. This was easy, it was familiar, but still... It made you feel like you could implode by how many different sensations you were feeling, emotionally, physically, mentally.

This was love.