#i love them!!! hanging wet sink washed clothes on window sills

[royalthorned]

remus/nagini

imagine a disheveled and dehumanised woman with fake high society values and aesthetics meeting a beat up, mourning and over educated long limbed man. they are outcast for outcast, beastly in a tasteless way.

now imagine they meet in the liminal space after they’ve lost their lovers. nagini carries her masters soul with her and remus carries sirius’ guilt. they are untethered and unruly. unwashed hair, empty stomachs and uncleaned rooms. the people who accepted them for their monstrousness are gone and they are wild again.

they live sporadically together in remus’ dilapidated berlin apartment. nagini stays with the carrows in their wind swept seaside cottage and in the lestrange manor on the the dust coated floor of the attic.

nagini was purposely never given a formal education to keep her “animalistic” and remus is an overeducated aspiring teacher. they sit at his tea stained, chipped table learning basic charms and muggle east asian history together. nagini makes perfect tea and buys him ornamental coasters to drink on while studying.

they sit together in his cracked bath in lukewarm yellow water together for hours. nagini shampoos his hair and laughs when he shakes his head like a dog.

there’s something so simple to their love. they are similar and accepted in a way they never have been before. all the love they give to each other is a gift and they know it. it’s rare to be seen and loved when your soulmates has left you but here they are! demure, vicious beasts sitting side by side eating unbuttered toast.

[barney-james]

Quarantine || Steve Rogers x Reader SMUT

HiRequest: {anon} Girl that Chris smut is one of my favorites now. It is ok if I request some Steve Rogers quarantine fluff or smut?

Warnings: unprotected vanilla sex, supper fluffy

*not my gif*

The light pitter-patter of the morning rain against the window sill slowly pulls you from your comfortable sleep. Your eyes attempt to flutter open, but you’re momentarily blinded by the faint sun light drifting through the curtains. You fill your lungs with a deep breath and bury yourself deeper into the arms wrapped around you. Your boyfriend lies next to you, sound asleep with his arms wrapped so tight around you, it’s as if he thought you would break if he doesn’t. You love Steve’s level of care for you, always making you feel loved. 

You relish the moment, trying to fall back asleep, but your mind had already woken up and started its day. After a moment, you give in to your restlessness and carefully pry yourself out of Steve’s arm. He groans and pouts in his sleep when he feels you leave his side. You kiss his forehead and head into the en suite bathroom to take your morning shower.

When you return to the bedroom with a towel wrapped around your body and your toothbrush in your mouth, Steve is still asleep. The covers pushed back as he lays on his back, his broad chest fully exposed. The covers come up to just below the already low waist band of his boxer briefs, exposing his v-lines and the light happy-trail you love so much.

Steve hums, but does not move. “You just going to stare, doll?” he asks in his gravely morning voice. That voice just does indescribable things to you, and tries to lure you back into bed with the beautiful man. Nevertheless, you were already awake and had planned your day in your head. 

“Sorry,” you mumble with a school-girl-like smile, pushing yourself off the door frame and towards the closet across the room. 

Steve props himself on one of his elbows, rubbing his face in an attempt to force himself awake. “What time is it?” he groans. The cloudy sky still letting plenty of the Brooklyn sun into the room. 

You look at the night stand by your side of the bed, realizing you had not checked the time since you got up. “8:46,” you read the clock and open the closet door. You pull out your favorite silk thong and matching bralette, a tank top, and yoga pants.

“Fuck,” Steve pouts. “It’s way to fucking early, baby. We’re quarantined -- we literally have nothing to do. Come back to bed.” He lays on his side, watching you pick out your clothes from the messy drawers.

“Nope,” you say simply and turn back to the bed, going to grab your phone from the night stand. 

“Why not?” he inquires. “You know you wanna spend all day against me, babe.”

You look up into his pleading eyes. His hand subtly slides down his side and into his underwear, but pushing the covers farther down the bed to make sure you notice the small damp spot.

You bite your lip, and head back to the bathroom with your clothes to change. You’d do it in the bedroom, but you don’t want Steve to get too excited. As you pass his side of the bed, he grips the end of your towel and pulls it from your body, leaving you naked before him. You stop and turn to him, smiling but rolling your eyes and go into the bathroom, leaving the door open.

“Why not?” he repeats his question.

“Because,” you begin, picking up your thong and bending over to put it on, your back facing Steve, revealing your bare cunt to him momentarily before pulling the garment all the way up. 

“Because..?” Steve waits for the rest of your sentence as he watches you pull the tight pants over you butt. He grips himself at the sight, trying to relieve the building pressure in his groin. 

You turn back to him as you pull your top over your head. “I’m going to clean the apartment, Steve.”

“You don’t have to do that, honey,” he pleads. “Really, it’s fine.”

“Every room is a disaster,” you laugh. “It sure as hell is bother me, but I know it’s bothering your decluttered head space.” He sighs, defeated, and you walk back into the bedroom, leaning on your hands over him. You lean closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. You smirk as you feel his body tense in anticipation. “You know the rules, Stevie,” you remind him of the rule you share. No touching yourself. Why would you when you have a partner with you 24/7? You straighten up, kissing his lips gently. His hand grabs the side of your face, evidently trying to deepen the sweet kiss. You pull back from his lips, silently denying his request, and look into his eyes as you hum pleased, your teeth pulling your bottom lip into your mouth. You peck his lips one last time and go to head out of the room. “Oh,” you say, turning back to him momentarily when you reach the bedroom door. “I’m going to make french toast, so you might wanna get up so it doesn’t get cold.” You wink and walk out of the room, purposely leaving the door open to aggravate him. 

You hear his muffled voice as he yells into a pillow frustrated. As you begin to cook breakfast, you hook your phone up to the speakers and play your music.

Steve comes out of the bedroom about a half hour later, his hair wet and sweatpants hanging low on his hips as his simple blue tee clings to his chest. He grabs the plate you left out for him and takes a seat at the island as you continue to clean the kitchen.

“Steve?” 

He hums a ‘what,’ prompting you to continue.

“Did you break the rule?” You look over your shoulder at him innocently.

“No,” he says stern with hard eyes, but with a mouth full of toast, making it kind of lose the edge. He swallows his mouthful. “I took a cold shower.”

You look back down to the dishes, smiling to yourself pleased.

He continues his breakfast with no conversation, and carries his plate over to the sink to wash it when he’s done. 

“I’ll get it, baby,” you smile at him. 

“Thanks,” he says. “I’ll be in my office.” He kisses your cheek and his hand smacks your ass playfully before he heads out of the kitchen and into the office. 

You deep clean the living area and organize as you go before going into the bedroom. You make the bed, start the laundry, and repeat your process in the bedroom and bathroom. You vacuum and sweep the whole apartment and water the plants last. 

A couple hours pass between Steve leaving to his office and you finishing the rest of the house, and Steve had still not left his office. You decided, since you knew the room was also a mess, you’d clean his office finally, seeing what he’s up to.

You push the door open, and drop the cleaning bucket on the floor. Steve is sat in his overly-large lounge chair by the substantial bookshelf, facing the window with a book in his hands, seemingly unaware of your entering the room. 

You walk past him, towards the bookshelf to straighten out the books before dusting, but a sizable hand grabs your wrist. Steve pulls you away from the bookshelf and into his lap as he throws his book onto the floor. He pulls your thighs on either side of his own, making you straddle him comfortable in the expansive chair, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck. He wastes no time, gingerly cradling your right cheek in his hand and bringing your lips to his. His other lands on your waist, pushing your hips down to close the space between you and his lap. Your core comes down onto his covered semi. 

You gasp at the feeling, nothing new, but every time as lovely as if it were, surprised that he’s already or still hard. He takes the opportunity of your open mouth to deepen the kiss and slide his tongue past your lips to explore your familiar mouth in a slow, loving kiss. You moan against his lips as his hand from your waist grazes up your side and up to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before cradling your face with both his ample hands.

You can feel Steve’s dick further harden beneath you, making you crave him. The exact feeling you were avoiding just hours before. Since you had finished every other area in the house, you let Steve’s kiss entrance you as it always does, and your roll your hips against his. He groans into your mouth and kisses your harder. You pull your body closer to his, pressing your chest against his.

His solid arms leave your face and wrap themselves under your ass, holding you to him as he scoots to the edge of the chair and lifts you with him off of it. After having moved from his office to the bedroom in such a situate, he effortlessly carries you to the bedroom. He carefully drops you onto the side of the bed then pulls back from you, removing his shirt before crawling back over you. He wraps his arms under your shoulders as he lays on you with most of his weight in a loving embrace, reconnecting your lips in another passionate kiss. He rolls his hips, repeatedly pushing himself down onto you, both still covered and both groaning at the delicious friction. 

Your hands roam up his shoulders and around his neck, fiddling with the littler hairs at the base like he likes. He squeezes your shoulders, holding you impossibly closer, then his warm hands find their way under your shirt, then under your bra, and massage your breasts. You arch your chest into his hands, and his kisses maneuver down your jaw and neck, sucking and nibbling lightly on the spots he knows makes you squirm. After a few moments assaulting your neck and breasts, he pulls away, sliding his hands farther up under your shirt and removing it from your body, followed by your bralette.

“Take the rest off, baby girl,” Steve instructs you, getting off the bed and removing his own pants.

You sit up, slide your fingers under the waist band of your yoga pants and push them down your legs. “Damn, Stevie,” you smirk up at your boyfriend teasingly. “I didn’t know you needed me this bad.”

“I always want you, Y/n,” he explains, looking at you as he removed his sweatpants. “This quarantine shit is making it worse -- I’m stuck with you 24/7. It’s so damn hard to control myself.”

“Stuck?” you challenge.

“You know what I mean,” he says, pushing his boxers down his legs, letting his thick hard cock spring free. “It’s just hard to not fuck you every waking minute.” His foot gets caught coming out of his underwear, and he falls forward onto the edge of the bed.

You giggle at your clumsy boyfriend, leaning over to him and pulling him up towards you. “I’m flattered,” you whisper as you pull his lips back to yours. He places his hands on the bed on either side of you, pushing you to lay back with just his mouth. He kisses back down your neck and starts to go down your chest until you stop him. 

“Steve, stop,” you say breathlessly. He stops with his lips in the valley of your breasts and looks up at you. “You know I love the feeling of that beard between my legs,” you continue, brushing your fingers through his beard. “But I need you, now.”

He smirk and pushes himself up, hovering over you.”You want it?” he growls, leaning down to kiss you, but pulling back just as his lips graze yours, leaving you whining. 

“Yes,” you whimper, and his lips graze yours again before pulling away again. “Steve, please,” you beg.

“Good girl,” he says and finally attacks your lips with his own. You wrap your arms around his shoulders again as he presses the tip of his cock to your wet folds, running it through them to get himself slick. Your nails dig into the top of his back and you moan into the kiss, your signal telling him you’re ready, and he pushes into you in one stroke, stopping once he’s bottomed out to let you adjust. You wrap your legs around his waist, digging the heels of your feet into his butt, wordlessly telling him to move while your lips move in sync with his continuously. He pulls out so just his head is left inside you, then pushes  back in, setting a sweet slow pace, but gradually picking it up. You moan against his mouth, wrapping your legs tighter around him to ask him to go faster. He obliges, and the new rhythm hits you perfectly. Your nails drag down his back and you moan out when his mouth leaves yours, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, biting your shoulder. 

With the built up excitement, you don’t last long, and the warm knot forms in your core quickly, despite having no foreplay. “Steve,” you pant. “I--”

“I know,” he mumbles into your skin, his voice muffled. “Me too, baby.”

“Cu-cum with me, Steve,” you encourage him, moaning. 

You feel his cock twitch deep inside you as his thrusts get sloppy and he starts counting down from three. Just after he says one, you feel his hot seed coat your inside walls as they contract around him, sending you into a pure euphoric state, both of you milking each other of your orgasms. Steve thrusts a few more times, riding out your highs before stopping inside you, staying buried in your warmth for a moment while he lay on top of you, his crushing weight comforting. 

He places lazy kisses all over your chest as he pulls out, you both whimpering at the loss of feeling complete. He falls to your side as you both catch your breath. Once your breathing returns to normal, you get up and go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. When you come back, Steve lays in the center of the bed with his arms held out in waiting. You climb into his chest, laying your head down and listening to his still erratic heartbeat. 

“We’re spending the rest of the day like this, and you can’t convince me otherwise,” he says, pressing his lips into your hair. 

You kiss his chest with a feather light touch of your lips as you look up at him. “You’re going to clean your office sooner or later, old man,” you smirk. 

Before you could register what was happening, he had his hand on your throat and had flipped you both over so he was back on top of you.

“’Old man’?” he questions. “Could an old man make you feel as good as I do, sweetheart?” he releases some pressure on your neck, but leaves his hand resting there as he kisses you hungrily.

[scribbling-stiks]

Heart Strings - VIII - The Trains are Getting Very Suspicious

When America wakes up the next morning, Alaska is jumping over him, begging him to wake up.

"Good mornin' kiddo. What's up?" America asks, groggy.

"Grandpa isn't awake yet, but I wanted to play a game," Alaska says with a bright grin.

"Okay. Hold on, okay?" America says, waving her off.

Alaska beams before turning around and disappearing out the door. America sits up and rubs his face. He turns over and sees Russia stretching.

"Hey," America says, "sorry if she woke you up."

"It's okay," Russia replies, rubbing his eyes.

'Oh my god, your hair is so fluffy.'

America holds back the impulse to reach over and just mess with it.

"Can I use your bathroom?" America stammers out looking away with color in his cheeks.

"What? Oh... yes. Go ahead," Russia replies, waving him out, "there are extra towels in the closet beside it."

America nods nervously before getting up. He grabs a change of clothes and disappears into the bathroom to clean himself up.

'I hope Alaska can stay out of trouble for just a few minutes.'

America begins to fret about his own clothing choices when he starts trying to fix his, now wet, hair.

'I don't want to look like an idiot!'

'Russia is so much better than this.'

After a few tries, and a little styling gel, he gets it to stand up the way he likes it and he smiles.

'At least I still know how to do it.'

'If only my clothes could've matched a little more.'

'Oh well, too late now.'

There is a knock on the door and he unlocks it, still brushing his teeth. Alaska kicks open the door, and America jumps.

"It's breakfast time, and I want to shower," Alaska announces bluntly.

America spits out the foamy mess into the sink and laughs.

"No time for nonsense then, huh?" America asks, rinsing out his mouth and running the sink again to drain everything.

"Nope!" Alaska replies, pushing America out, "no time. Now gooooooo. Russia's waiting for you!"

"Wait. What are you-"

Alaska closes the door.

America sighs in bemusement.

'Am I really that obvious?'

America walks out to see Russia very tiredly eating something out of a small bowl. He smiles awkwardly. Russia doesn't look up at first.

"What is that?" America asks.

Russia's head jerks up and he glances at America before looking away. America can pinpoint Russia's embarrassment and shock as it comes through the link, and he laughs a little.

'I wonder what it is.'

'This emotions thing is getting a little easier.'

'It's probably because of practice.'

"It's kasha," Russia finally answers, sounding a little flustered, "do you want some?"

"Please," America replies with a nod.

Russia hops up, dropping an unaccompanied small bowl into the sink as he reenters the kitchen. He hands America the bowl, and their fingers brush. America jerks a little at the sparks that he feels in his fingers. Russia retakes his seat, and America eats while the house starts to come to life with activity.

"Do you want to come with me to set up the meeting room?" Russia asks, pointing at America with his spoon.

"Yeah, sure," America says before he could consider the opposite.

Then he curses himself.

'Why did I agree to that?!'

'It's better than being stuck here with Soviet,' America thinks with a shiver.

'I'm gonna make a fool of myself.'

'D*** it all!'

"I bought 4 tickets anyway," Russia continues, " and I don't think Ukraine or Belarus would mind much if you come instead."

"Are you joking? I never wanted to go!" Ukraine says, taking a seat at the table.

Russia chuckles.

Eventually, Alaska emerges and asks America to do her hair. America complies, swiftly pulling it up into ponytails. Alaska giggles in excitement.

"Would you like to come with Russia and me to set up for tomorrow's meeting?"

"Uh, YEAH!" Alaska says, "Why did you even ask?!"

America laughs. Russia disappears soon after to get washed up and dressed, and America bids his time until he's stuck in closed quarters with Russia again.

The walk to the train station is cold,  but not dramatically so. America had come prepared, after all.

'Though I do wish I brought some thicker socks.'

Russia hands the tickets over and the walk on. The train car looks deserted. They sit together in the carriage, and Russia locks the door.

'Great. Now I'm stuck here.'

Alaska bounces on his bunk and pointing out the window.

"Look, Daddy! Look!"

America turns to see her point as some of the landscaping they pass.

"Mh-hm. I see," America says, peaking over Alaska's shoulder.

Eventually, the scenery loses his attention and his eyes lock on Russia's face. Russia is staring out the window, his head in his hand, leaning against the window sill. America admires Russia's face with a love-struck stare. His mind begins to wander.

'So pretty.'

'I want a hat.'

'Wanna hug him.'

'Snow is stupid.'

'Russia is so handsome.'

'Is very kind.'

'Kinda wanna kiss him.'

America's cheeks grow hot, but can't take his eyes away.

'I shouldn't be thinking about that.'

Russia looks up and meets America's eyes. America looks away, embarrassed. He feels Russia's amusement and crinkles his nose.

"Don't laugh at me," America mumbles, staring determinately out the window.

Russia chuckles, and America can feel his glee leaking through.

Then, he feels someone kick his foot. He looks down and sees Russia kicking at him with a smirk, and if America focuses, he can feel the playful attitude from Russia. America's scowl turns to a grin when he kicks back.

America presses his back on the wall and kicks his feet against Russia's. Russia laughs and returns the favor. America kicks playfully, and can't help the giddy laughter that rises from the back of his throat.

America playfully hits at Russia and tries to straighten his legs, and Russia fights to do the same. America grins wide enough to make his cheeks ache and he giggles.

Russia ultimately wins their little competition, and America pouts, crossing his arms.

Then, the motion from the hallway outside the carriage catches America's attention. His expression drops and his head whips around to stare out the small window built into the door.

He doesn't see anyone.

"What's wrong?" Russia asks, concern in his tone.

"I thought I saw something, but I also thought no one else was in our train car."

"I didn't see anyone else get on," Russia comments, curiously looking out the window on the door.

America hums and stares out the window, waiting for the flash of red to return. Nothing ever does. He nervously starts analyzing his surroundings but doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. Even still, dread gnaws at him.

The train ride is long, and America finds himself spacing out a little.

'I wonder if Russia likes me back.'

'No, he probably doesn't.'

'Even if he did, I can't....'

'Stupid soulmates..'

America crosses his arms. Russia gives him a concerned look, but America ignores it.

'I saw something outside though.'

'It could've been nothing.'

'I have a bad feeling about it.'

The rest of the train ride is uneventful, but America isn't in the mood to continue joking around like he had before. He tries to shake off the dread buried in his stomach but finds it nearly impossible. He can feel Russia's worry but waves it off. He offers Russia a reassuring smile, and Russia returns it with one of his own. America looks away, trying not to get too worked up over it.

'He is so god d*** cute.'

The train rolls to a stop and America dawns his coat. He walks out, Russia on one side and Alaska on the other. America hangs back while Russia does the negotiating. Though he could understand every word, he doesn't say anything, afraid that he'll intrude

They arrive at the building around early afternoon, and America walks through the slushy snow to get to the entrance, holding Alaska to keep her out of the sludge.

America does get strange looks from the security personnel, and many gave Alaska accusing looks. America glares back, the message of 'don't f*** with my child,' clear in his eyes. Russia slows a little and walks close beside him, and America tries his best to ignore the warmth in his cheeks.

'Oh my god, you are so close to me.'

'He smells nice.'

'WHAT THE F*** BRAIN?!'

America scowls and feels even his ears start to turn red.

America puts Alaska down and takes her hand, and she stays close to his side, almost trying to hide behind his leg from the surrounding air.

America continues to look around and spots several guards eyeing them from around the building. Russia steps a little in front of him and glares at the guards, who turn away at seeing him. America's cheeks grow pink.

'Him defending me????'

Giddy feelings fill his stomach.

'No, I can't think about that now! I'll get all distracted.'

They walk into the meeting room and America takes a stack of paperwork to help sort it out. He moves and sits beside Russia. Russia gives him a curious look, and America stares down at the papers, pretending not to see Russia at all.

Russia takes a seat beside him, and America relaxes a little, happy Russia isn't going to fight him on the seating arrangement. Alaska sits on America's other side, swinging her feet under the table. America smiles.

"Hey, is this important?" America asks, handing a lone, almost blank sheet of paper to Russia to glance over.

"No," Russia answers, handing it back and turning his attention back to his own stack of papers to read and sign.

America nods and hands the sheet to Alaska, who folds it into an airplane. Alaska begins drawing people in windows and America smiles. Russia stands up.

"I'll be right back," Russia says, gathering a folder with several packets of paper, " I need to go give these to the building supervisor."

America nods and continues sorting papers into different stacks and Alaska starts throwing around her paper airplane.

Suddenly, America feels his hair stand on end. He looks up and a flash of red catches his eye outside one of the windows. He focuses on the spot, only to see nothing. Alaska retreats back to his side.

"Daddy? What's wrong?" Alaska asks, her voice nervous.

"It's okay, pumpkin. I'm just a little high strung is all."

Alaska hums, sounding unsure.

"It's okay kiddo," America says reassuringly.

"I'm seeing stuff too," Alaska mutters, "like people looking through the windows. Their flags are weird."

America tenses.

'S***.'

"Uhhh," America stammers, looking around and scanning the windows, "let's go find Russia, okay?"

America stands, abandoning the papers on the table and taking Alaska's hand, eyeing the door that Russia had left through.

"Okay Daddy," Alaska says, and her grip tightens.

~

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