#this fucking olive tree bringing it all back together

[thylionheart]

Oh gosh what a choice to have Odysseus’ ending be so realistic, there is no comeuppance, there is no redemption, this is my only human life, I can’t undo what I’ve done (but I do have to live with it), but hopefully the next generation will learn from me and do better. GAH and no matter how far you’ve drifted from yourself, no matter what you’ve done or had done to you, the only way you could ever be truly lost or hopeless is if you take an axe to the roots of the tree that represents your love and hopeful youth and that person you were before FUUUUUCK

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐲 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Serial Killer Aegon x Victim Reader

Summary: you just wanted to enjoy the night with your best friend and getting fucked. But what was waiting for you was much more scary than anything you had ever expected...

Warning: kidnapping, blood, abuse, unwanted touch, murder.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Original Gif by @lady-alicent ♡

The mirror gleamed back at Y/N as she carefully applied the finishing touches to her makeup, the sleek red dress clinging to her curves in all the right ways. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, the silky strands catching the light of the vanity. Tonight, she was going to be unstoppable. On speaker, her best friend Emily's voice filled the room, excitement buzzing between them as they planned their night out.

"Girl, I swear, tonight's the night. I will get laid" Emily laughed, the sound infectious, pulling a giggle from Y/N.

"Are you sure, though? You've been talking about this for weeks. Are you finally going to get with Tom?" Y/N teased, brushing some highlighter across her cheekbones.

"Hell yeah! I'm gonna fuck his brains out!" Emily declared dramatically, causing both of them to erupt into laughter. "But what about you? Don't think I didn't see how Oliver was staring at you last time. That man is ready to risk it all."

Y/N smirked, lining her lips with a deep crimson. "Oh, Oliver won't know what hit him tonight" she winked at herself in the mirror, confident. "By the end of this party, he's going to be begging."

Emily cackled, making another inappropriate joke that had Y/N snorting, her mascara brush shaking slightly in her hand. "God, Emily, you're gonna make me mess up my makeup."

"I cant help it, you're gonna make himー"

Suddenly, Y/N froze mid-laugh. In the corner of her eye, she caught something ーa shadow shiftingby the window, just out of her line of sight. Her heart skipped, an eerie prickle crawling up her spine.

"What's wrong?" Emily's voice came through the phone, concern creeping into her playful tone.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting around the room. Everything was still. Quiet. The only sound was Emily's distant voice on the phone. She let out a breath, forcing smile as if it could push away the unease settling in her gut. "Nothing, I just thought I saw something."

"Probably just your nerves. You've got Oliver on the brain too much!" Emily teased, bringing the conversation back to its lightheartedness.

"Yeah, you're right," Y/N muttered, trying to shake off the strange feeling. She continued applying her makeup, but every now and then, her gaze flicked back to the window. That uneasy chill hadn't left, a quiet whisper in her mind that something wasn't quite right. But it was probably nothing.

At least, that's what she told herself.

The night was pitch black, the only light coming from the dim glow of Y/N’s headlights as they cut through the lonely, desolate road. Trees stretched out on either side, their branches twisting together to form a canopy of shadows. The once lively conversation with Emily had died down to a nervous exchange of directions as Y/N found herself completely lost in the maze of unfamiliar back roads.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Y/N asked, her voice tight with frustration, gripping the wheel a little too hard. The GPS had stopped working a while ago, leaving her utterly reliant on Emily’s instructions.

“I swear, Y/N, it’s the right way! Just keep going straight, and you’ll see a sign soon, I promise,” Emily’s voice reassured her, though it did little to calm the rising anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Straight. That’s all she had to do. But the road seemed endless, stretching out in front of her like a void, each passing second growing thicker with unease. Y/N glanced around, her stomach flipping as the dark woods loomed over her. It felt like something was watching from the trees.

"Emily, I don’t see anything—" Y/N began, but her words were cut off in a scream as a figure suddenly appeared from the darkness, leaping in front of her car.

THUD.

The impact jolted her entire body forward, the screech of brakes cutting through the stillness as the car skidded to a halt. Y/N’s heart was racing, pounding so hard she could barely breathe. The world outside was silent again, but the deafening thud of the hit echoed in her ears, over and over.

“Y/N? Y/N! What the hell just happened?!” Emily’s voice was frantic, but Y/N barely heard her.

She stared ahead, wide-eyed, her hands trembling on the wheel. What just happened? Did I hit him? Did I just… kill someone?

Her throat was dry as she swallowed, trying to steady herself. "I… I think I hit someone. I’m not sure." Her voice was shaky, barely above a whisper.

“What?! Are you okay?! What happened?” Emily’s voice was nearly drowned out by the ringing in Y/N’s ears, her panic rising with every passing second. Y/N’s hands moved to unbuckle her seatbelt, her body feeling as if it was moving on autopilot. "I need to check. I’ll call you back."

“What? No, wait—” Y/N hung up, her mind spinning with terror as she opened the door and stepped out into the suffocating darkness. The wind was cool, but her skin prickled with cold sweat. The night was unnaturally quiet, save for the rapid beating of her heart in her ears.

Her eyes landed on the crumpled figure lying in the road just ahead, and her stomach lurched. She could barely see him in the dim light of her car’s headlights, his body twisted at an unnatural angle. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her feet moved forward, her breath shallow.

She knelt beside the man, her hands trembling as she reached out. "Hey… Hey, are you okay?" Her voice cracked, almost pleading. She shook his shoulder gently, her breath catching in her throat. Please don’t be dead. Please, God, don’t be dead.

He didn’t respond, his body limp. Y/N’s heart plummeted. For a horrifying moment, she thought she’d killed him. I hit him, I really hit him. What if he’s dead? What if I—

But then she noticed it—his chest, rising and falling slowly. He was still breathing.

Y/N let out a shaky breath, a wave of relief crashing over her. "Oh, thank God…" she muttered, her hands moving to check for any sign of consciousness. "Hey, can you hear me? You’re gonna be okay, I’ll get you help. Just hang on."

Her voice was trembling as she stood, rushing back to the car to grab her phone. Her hands fumbled with the door handle, her pulse pounding in her ears. She had to call for help. Get him to the hospital.

But just as she reached into the car for her phone, something hard and solid slammed into the back of her head.

Pain exploded through her skull, white-hot and blinding. Her vision blurred instantly, the world spinning as her body crumpled to the ground. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what was happening, but all she could register was the unbearable, crushing pain.

She tried to blink away the darkness closing in around her, her breaths ragged and desperate, but the force of the blow had knocked her senses loose. Through the dizzy haze, she saw him—the man she had just hit, standing above her with a rock in his hand. The sickening realization crashed into her like a freight train.

It was a trap.

Her heart raced, adrenaline surging through her, but her limbs felt heavy, numb. She wanted to scream, to fight, but her vision was dimming, the pain dragging her under. The last thing she saw before everything went black was the man’s cold, emotionless face, looming over her as she slipped into the abyss.

Y/N's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, dragging her unwillingly from the void. The pain in her head was the first thing she registered-an unbearable, spliting agony that pulsed in time with her heartbeat, making her feel like her skull was about to crack open. She groaned, but the sound came out muffled, trapped behind something in her mouth. Panic started to set in as she realized she couldn't open her jaw; the taste of dirty fabric filled her mouth. A gag.

Disoriented, she blinked slowly, trying to make sense of where she was. Her vision was blurry, her surroundings a nauseating haze of darkness and shadow. Everything reeked. The stench hit her all at once- thick, putrid, suffocating. It was a mix of urine, sweat, blood, and something far more decayed. The smell clawed at the back of her throat, making her gag against the cloth. She fought back the urge to vomit, knowing it would only choke her.

Her body felt... wrong. Heavy. Aching. Every muscle was sore, every inch of her skin stung with a dull, throbbing pain. When she tried to move, she realized why: she was tied up. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists and cutting off circulation. Her legs were bound too, her ankles tied together so tightly she could barely wiggle her toes.

Where the hell am I? The last thing she remembered was... the man. The man she had hit. Her heart jumped into her throat, the memory rushing back to her all at once一the impact, the body on the road, the moment of relief when she realized he was still breathing. And then... then he had attacked her. Everything went black after that. And now I'm here.

Her breath quickened as she took in her surroundings. The room was small, cramped, with walls so grimy she could barely tell their original color. Blood smeared the walls in splatters and streaks, both fresh and old, the sickening reminder of whatever horrors had taken place here before. There were stains on the floor, dark, sticky patches that made her skin crawl. And then she noticed the other things一flesh, torn and hanging like trophies from hooks. Bones, carelessly strewn on the floor, cracked and splintered. She wanted to scream, but the gag silenced her, the terror building in her chest until it felt like she might suffocate on it.

But she wasn't alone.

In the dim light, she saw them-other women. At least five of them, maybe more. All of them were bound like her, gagged, naked, their bodies bruised and filthy. Some of them were barely conscious, their heads lolling weakly, while others stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. There was something about their expressions that sent ice shooting down her spine-those hollow, desperate eyes, like animals resigned to their fate.

One of them, a woman with tear-streaked cheeks and a gag so tight it had rubbed her mouth raw, met Y/N's gaze. She shook her head slowly, almost imperceptibly, her eyes full of warning. It was as if she was trying to tell her something, something Y/N didn't yet understand. Don't move. Don't fight. Don't make a sound.

But Y/N wasn't like them. She couldn't just sit here and wait to die. Fear surged through her veins, but so did adrenaline. She had to get out. I have to get out.

Slowly, carefully, she began to squirm, trying to shift her weight without making too much noise. Every movement was agonyーher wrists felt like they were being sliced open by the ropes, and her muscles screamed in protest. But she didn't stop. She couldn't. If she stayed here, she was dead.

As she inched her way toward the door, the other women watched her, their eyes filling with fresh tears, their bodies trembling as they silently begged her stop. But she couldn't stop. She had to get free. She had to.

The closer she got to the door, the more hope flickered inside her-until she fell. Her hands slipped, and her body hit the floor with a dull thud. She landed in something wet and slimy, the smell assaulting her senses immediately. It was a disgusting mix of rotting food, excrement, and something else- something thick and foul that clung to her skin and made her gag. Her stomach churned violently, the bile rising in her throat, but she swallowed it down, focusing on the door just a few feet away.

But then the door creaked open.

The sound was slow, deliberate, and it filled the room like a death knell, Y/N froze, her heart hammering in her chest, her body tensing as the dim light from the hall spilled into the room.

He stepped inside.

The man. The same man she had hit with her car. He stood in the doorway, his silhouette tall and menacing, his face twisted into a sickening grin. His eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on Y/N, his expression darkened. Rage boiled just beneath the surface of his face, twisting his features into something monstrous.

"What do we have here?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

Before Y/N could even try to scramble away, he was on her. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her up, dragging her across the filthy floor as she screamed against the gag. Pain shot through her scalp, white-hot and unbearable, but the terror that gripped her heart was even worse. He was going to kill her. He was going to kill her right now.

"You stupid, stupid girl" he hissed, his voice thick with venom as he dragged her back to where she'd been. "You thought you could just leave? You thought you could escape?" He threw her down onto the cold floor, kicking her hard in the stomach for good measure.

The breath was knocked from her lungs, and for a moment, everything went dark. She gasped for air, her body convulsing in pain, but she couldn't get enough oxygen. Her vision blurred, her mind spinning with fear and panic. This is it. I'm going to die.

"You should be thankful l'm not going to punish you further;" he spat, kneeling down beside her, his breath hot and rancid against her face. "You're new. I'm feeling generous today."

Y/N's body shook uncontrollably as she lay there, too weak and terrified to move. But then, just as quickly as the anger had come, his expression changed. The rage melted away, replaced by something far more sinister. His hand, still tangled in her hair, began to stroke her scalp gently, his voice softening as if he hadn't just brutalized her.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his tone dripping with faux concern. "I didn't mean to hurt you. You just made me so... angry. it's your fault, you know? If you hadn't tried to leave.." His fingers trailed down her neck, his touch lingering on her skin as he murmured, "You're so beautiful. So.. perfect."

"Soft," he murmured, as though admiring the texture of fabric instead of skin. He leaned in closer, inhaling deeply as he buried his face in her hair, his breath warm and sickening against her skin. "You smell so good... You're going to make the perfect doll."

Y/N's mind spun with confusion and horror. Doll? What did that mean? She wanted to scream, to thrash and fight, but her body felt like it was frozen, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion. Her tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks as she trembled beneath his touch.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as his hand slid lower, caressing her naked body with possessive, almost reverent strokes. His fingers traced the curve of her breast, the dip of her waist, the swell of her hips. He was taking his time, savoring the touch, the control, the power. Y/N felt sick, her stomach twisting in knots as she lay there, helpless, her mind screaming for it to stop. But she couldn't Scream. She couldn't move.

"You're going to be perfect" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. "Just... perfect."

She wanted to disappear, to sink into the floor and never exist again. But all she could do was lie there, paralyzed by fear and disgust, as he continued to touch her. His hands roamed over her body, his breath hot and heavy against her skin. Every touch felt like fire, burning into her flesh, marking her. She could feel his excitement, his anticipation, and it made her want to vomit.

Then, suddenly, he stood up.

“Not today" he said, smiling down at her with a look of twisted affection. "Today isn't your day."

Y/N's stomach lurched as she realized what he meant. Not her day. But soon. Her tears blurred her vision, her entire body shaking uncontrollably as she tried to scream through the gag. She couldn't stop the sob that broke through, muffled but desperate.

He laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face with a gentleness that felt like a mockery of kindness. "Shhh" he cooed, "don't cry. You'll ruin your pretty face. And I love your face."

Before she knows it, the man turned his attention to one of the other women-a blonde who had been sitting silently in the corner, her eyes wide with terror. Without a word, he grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet with a sickening cruelty. The woman's body convulsed in terror, her eyes filling with tears as she let out a muffled scream behind her gag.

She struggled weakly, her limbs trembling, but it was no use. He dragged her toward the door, pulling her like a rag doll, her body limp with fear. She was looking at her. Like a lamb. Wide eyes. Begging for help. But Y/N couldn't do anything.

Y/N watched in horror as the door slammed shut behind them. The remaining women in the room sobbed softly, the sound of their crying mixing with Y/N's own frantic breaths.

Then the noise began.

The sound of metal on flesh, a sharp, wet thwack followed by a crunch that made Y/N's blood run cold. The woman's faint cries echoed through the walls, but they were quickly drowned out by the sickening sound of the ax splitting flesh and bone. The rhythm was steady, methodical, like someone chopping wood ーonly it wasn't wood. lt was human.

Y/N closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was wait, knowing that soon... it would be her turn.

Should I make a part 2?

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[sapphicvqmpires]

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ meet me under the golden tree

Pairing - shuri/black fem!reader

Word Count - 7k (my fics keep getting longer and longer lolll)

Contains - smut (18+), fingering, cunnilingus, soft dom!shuri, sub!reader, angst, fluff, hurt, mentions of character death

Key words - nkosazana (princess), sthandwa (baby), sthandwa sami (my love)

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - Her face was puffy, her lips swollen from all her crying but even in this state she was beautiful and everything you could ever ask for. She caresses your face with her thumb, wiping away your tears as she finally brings you in for a kiss. Contrary to popular belief, this was your guys’ first kiss. Your lips press against her swollen ones as you relax into her. The world around you went black and white, the tree and Shuri being the splash of colour in the painted landscape surrounding you

Song Vibes - john redcorn (sir), change (arin ray ft. kehlani), do it well (dvsn), wait (nao)

Tags - @pinkwright @inmyheadimobsessed @heejayy @lustfulbarbie @abenomeiiii @shuriszn @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @gardenof-venus @vys-intentions @tiii-iiiiii @tishszn @myaraines @dominiquesheart @vampzxi @zayswriting

Writers Note: this one has a bit of everything, and I definitely took some stuff from Shuriri fics I already wrote and put onto a03 lol. But yeah, this one’s definitely a lil different from last weeks fic, but enjoy :)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ You sigh, unable to fess up to Riri’s mocking laughs. You knew she was right, the way she would persistently tease you about your so called “friendship” with the Black Panther. The truth is, you’re head over heels for Shuri, but you could not allow yourself to be persuaded. To give into your feelings meant to be bruised by her constant subtle pushes once things got too close, too intimate. And it hurts you.

“Shut up Ri,” you respond, hoping she’ll actually listen to you this time.

“What? You’re not gonna sit here and tell me you two are ‘just friends’. I know y'all be fucking on the low.”

You start choking on your water as Riri laughs hysterically.

“You’re not funny.”

“Uh huh. What are you all dressed up for anyway? Where are you heading off to looking all pretty?”

You roll your eyes. No answer comes out of your mouth but your body language and facial expressions tell Riri everything she needs to know.

“Mhmm…very interesting indeed,” Riri taunts.

“Riri, I swear to god bro…we’re just friends. For real, leave me alone.” You were transparently annoyed, not even because Riri kept teasing you, but because you knew she wasn’t wrong. You enjoyed Shuri, the way she used her words to pull you back in even if she didn’t fully deserve your company. She was a challenge, and her presence was almost impossible to neglect.

“She’s outside. And you better not still be in my apartment when I get back.”

Riri chuckles under her breath as you get up and make your way out to meet her.

“Don’t get pregnant! We don’t need any little Black Panthers running around!” Riri yells before the door shuts.

“Fuck you, Ri!”

“Love you too, y/n!” You give her the finger before the door completely shuts.

Once you're deeper into the apartment hallways, you begin to smile like a fool. You allow all emotions to be expressed in between the time you leave Riri to meet with Shuri, because you know once you step foot into that car, true feelings must be suppressed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

There’s a gentle breeze in the air once you step outside, caressing your face and scalp. It’s refreshing, but also a step back into reality. Shuri is leaning on her car, focused on whatever is on her phone. She looks good. She always does and it pisses you off. The olive green of her nike crew neck compliments her rich skin without flaw. Her olive dunks pull the outfit together, lightly covered by the bagginess of her black cargo pants. She wears her favourite gold chain, just subtly hidden underneath her crew neck but the sly detail makes your heart flutter. You run up to her, embracing her warmth as she brings you in for a hug. Shuri chuckles against you, flattered at the way you seep so easily into her arms.

“Missed me that bad, nkosazana?” You exhaled at the sound of her voice. The cute names she constantly called you did nothing to ease your deep desire for her, it was almost tiresome.

“I did,” you answer. You look up at her, noticing the gold layered on her bottom teeth. Your stomach jumped at the sight. The way the gold contrasted against her pearly whites caused your core to warm up, a throbbing sensation between your thighs and you had no choice but to ignore it. “Where are we going, Shuri? You called me late as fuck last night.”

“I just wanted to see my favourite girl today, is that ok?”

Oh she was infuriating. “That’s fine, but you can’t call me at unholy hours like that bro. I’m tryna sleep.”

“My bad, my bad. I was kinda desperate.” Desperate? You breathe in deeply, followed by a smile. You always tried to stay mad at her, but it was a challenge. She was too beautiful. She guides you into her vehicle, closing the door beside you. She takes her place in the driver's seat, and you could never not admire the way she looked handling the road. She always drove with one hand on the wheel, her tattooed hand always rubbing your thigh or playing with her jawline. Both gestures made you wet which usually paved way for your late night thoughts to be filled with deep skin, slender fingers, and curly hair as you touch yourself, her name falling off your lips as you dream of her below you.

“Y/n? You down?” The train of your tactile thoughts brought back to reality as Shuri pulls you in.

“Huh?”

Shuri laughs. “I saaiidd…wanna go to that restaurant down the corner over there? They got a pool table, and I wanna beat you.”

“You’re better than me at everything, Shuri. You’ll easily beat me in pool.”

“Soooo, is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

Shuri pauses for a second, pondering on what thoughts are dancing through your mind.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours anyways? You’re always dozing off, I’m starting to worry you don’t enjoy my presence anymore,” Shuri jokes. You slap her shoulder lightly. “Ow.”

“That’s what you get.”

“For what? What’d I do now?”

“You know what.”

Shuri rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with me, nkosazana. The day just started.”

“Fine.”

Everytime you bring up the topic of ‘what are we?’, Shuri would take one step back. She hated the conversation, and she would disappear for days at a time once your arguments were over. You convinced yourself that it was because she just did not feel the same for you like you did for her. It was easier to accept that than the latter; that you were just a crutch, a tool to be used whenever she needed and put away until she decided you were of value again.

You knew Shuri was broken. She’s been through a lot and ever since the mantle was given to her, she seemed to be heavier. She was still ‘Shuri’, the girl with endless jokes up her sleeve and a smile that could ease sadness, but there was now a darkness that endured underneath and she would not let you pierce the surface.

She pulls into the parking lot, unbuckling your seat belt as she rushes to open the door for you. Her arm wrapped around your shoulder, and she pecked a kiss on the top of your head as you walked into the restaurant. You both order what you usually do; Shuri with her spicy chicken wings, and you with your chicken burger. The afternoon is filled with familiar tunes of laughter, as you guys argue over whether drummies or flatties are better. Shuri says drummies are better because there’s more meat and you argue that flatties are better because there’s less bone and cartilage.

“Black folk don’t complain about things like bone and cartilage, y/n.”

“Well this one does,” you chuckle, pointing to yourself. Shuri laughs with you, taking a fry and chugging it at your face.

“Shut up and eat your nasty chicken burger.”

“It’s actually really good, wanna bite?”

Shuri audibly gags and you toss a fry right back at her.

“Don’t make me come over there and bite you.”

“I’d like to see your try.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she mocks. You roll your eyes, chugging another fry at her. Shuri scrunches her face.

“You think you’re so funny huh? You’re lucky we’re not alone, you wouldn’t feel so funny anymore,” she subtly jokes. And it’s stupid half-jokeful threats like that that make your pussy pulse. You cross your legs slowly, desperate to ease the throbbing between your legs. Shuri notices, and lets out a soft chuckle. She knows what she’s doing and it’s driving you insane.

Once you guys are done with your meal, you make your way to the pool tables in the corner of the restaurant.

“Ready to get absolutely destroyed?” Shuri asks.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Nope.”

Shuri was a pro and she laughed hysterically at the way you constantly put the Q-Ball in the hole, but she would let you have another turn anyway because she low-key felt bad. She would grab your hips and maneuvre them, guiding you. You would bend over the pool table with subtle intent, and you could swear she was looking where you wanted her to look. The game was filled with less of the actual game and more of Shuri teasing both your mind and body.

“Stop,” you pleaded into her, knowing full well you did not want her to.

“You know you don’t want me to.”

“Shuri…please.”

She did not listen. She hugged you from behind, her hands lingering right above your pussy and it made you throb. Your mind travelled to that sinful place consumed with unholy thoughts of how you imagined how skillful those hands were. She was a serious flirt, but you had to convince yourself that she did not like you for the sake of your sanity.

“Why can’t we just stay like this??” she whispered into the nape of your neck. You abruptly turned around to face her, submerging yourself in the depth of her brown eyes. Her curls were coiled to perfection, treading down her forehead like a waterfall. Her mouth slightly opened, revealing the gold layered underneath her two-toned lips. You wanted her desperately.

“Why are you so scared of commitment?” you ask. You knew this was not the place, nor the time, but you were tired. Crippled by the way she had such easy access to you without fully giving herself to you and your body. She let go of you so easily, and your heart sank at the crude gesture.

“Why you always do that, huh? Always ruining it with your stupid questions.”

The lump in your throat grows as you bite on your bottom lip. You fight the tears that are itching to pierce through, but you refuse. She did not get to see you like this. She didn’t deserve it.

“Fuck you,” you say through heavy lungs. You begin to make your way out the door, but you're stopped by Shuri’s hands gripping your waist, forcing you to face her. You don’t fight it. There’s no use.

“Is that what this is all about, nkosazana? You wanna fuck me?” her voice is so silky and her words seep through your pores, forcing your body to give into her. “Cuz I will, if that’s what you want. Bend you over the pool table if I have to. Give everyone a show.” She was devious. She knew the dominance her words had over you, and she never failed to use that to her advantage. She toyed with you, knowing you’ll run back without fail.

You look at the space around you. The restaurant is pretty empty for the most part, the people that are there are fairly good at pretending to mind their own business.

“Shuri…let me go,” you gently plead. She obliges, aggressively making her out of the restaurant and back into her vehicle. You follow her. She does not open the door for you this time.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The car ride is quiet and unfamiliar, her tunes calmly playing in the background being the only thing keeping you from going insane. You have no idea where she’s taking you, and you’re honestly too afraid to ask. You look up at her for a quick second, her jaw is clenched and her eyes are low. She looks tired and you almost feel bad.

“Where are we going?” you ask, breaking the deafening silence.

“You’ll see.”

She pulls into a park, leaving you confused but you let her lead the way. She puts her car in park, and begins to stroll as you try to keep up with her. The park was quite beautiful and secluded. There was no one here, but you can still hear the music of the busy city playing in the distance.

“Shuri…where are we going?”

“I said, you’ll see.”

Shuri continues to stroll, stopping at a pretty open field with trees sprinkled here and there. There is however, one larger tree that overshadows the rest. She makes her way there, sitting on the soft grass that grows beneath. You follow her, doing the same. Shuri stays quiet for a few seconds, basking in the wind that seeps through her curls. It’s a beautiful sight really, the way someone so energetic and full spirit takes the time to bask in what nature has to offer. You wonder what’s going on in that mind of hers, what hides behind the smile she chooses to wear everyday. Finally, she speaks.

“This tree reminds me of home. Not as strong, and nowhere near as tall, but still beautiful nonetheless.”

You smile, noticing the subtle melancholic gaze in her eyes as she admires the strength of its bark.

“This is where I come after every argument I have with you. I sit here, and reminisce on what once was…and think about all the ways I’m hurting you. I don’t mean to but…I just wish I could be better.”

You take her hand, and she lets you. There’s a question stuck in your throat that you so badly want to ask her, yet you fear the reaction she’ll have. Shuri has carried the title of “the Black Panther” for a couple months now, and not once has she truly sat down with you and told you about how she truly felt about holding that mantle. You swallow, before allowing yourself to ask her.

“So…so how does it feel?”

Shuri looks at you in confusion. “How does what feel?”

“To be the Black Panther and hold all that responsibility? I know you Shuri, you’re hurt. The thing about you is you hurt alone.”

Silence.

“Shuri…you have to be able to talk to me about these things. You have people that love you, that want to be there for you…”

Shuri’s face hardens, her usual sarcastic smile fading into one that’s almost unrecognisable. It’s almost like a veil has been lowered, paving way to what really nestled there and your chest grows heavy at the sight. She places her elbows on her knees and sighs. Your smile mirrors hers, fading as the environment around you grows cold, the air becoming thick. For a moment it seems like Shuri is lost in the blades of grass beneath her, staring intensely into the ground. Her head falls forward, as she noticeably gathers the courage to speak over whatever her heart is trying to hold in.

Finally, her heart speaks.

“You know…when my brother died, I also lost a piece of me. It was one of the hardest things to accept knowing I could have saved him had I had the time to come up with some type of scientific cure to his illness. But then he was just…gone. Taken away from me with little warning. Sometimes I regret not being by his side as he took his final breath, but I try not to be too hard on myself. I was trying to save my brother, and I was doing the best I could.”

“Shuri…I--”

“And then when my mom was taken from me…” she pauses and bows her head. Tears gently fall from Shuri’s eyes, like dewdrops. You feel the tears swell in your own eyes and do nothing to hold them in. Of course you knew that Shuri was hurting from her loss, but never did you truly grasp the hurt that came with bearing the weight of being the Black Panther. How could you?

“I did not want to be the Black Panther. That was never my goal in life, nkosazana. Had you told me a couple years ago that I was going to be Black Panther in a few years time, I would’ve laughed in your face…” Shuri lets out a faded smile, combating tears and fighting the swelling in her own throat. “I cut my hair when I lost my brother, as a sign of grieving. It’s a Wakandan practice. And I’m not even a spiritual person but it seemed like the right thing to do…for him.”

You look at Shuri, admiring the dark yet beautiful significance behind Shuri’s short curls that caress the edge of her forehead. For a moment, you remember Shuri with her once braided hair, and you remember the reaction you had when she suddenly cut it off.

“You cut your hair?? But why??”

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?”

“No, I like it. I really like it…but why the sudden switch up?”

“I don’t know. I just felt like something new.”

And you smiled at her. She looked good.

Your stomach turns as you remember that conversation. You remember the way she looked that day, sadder than usual even if she tried her best to uphold her same, sarcastic self. Her almond eyes were weary, and you were oblivious to the significance behind her short curls.

“I promise you y/n, being Black Panther does not feel good. Not for the reasons I am anyway.”

You close your eyes, allowing the tears to stream without halt. You wanted to grieve alongside Shuri, letting her know she’s not alone.

“I’m sorry…I wasn’t intending to--”

“It’s fine nkosazana…I needed to let that out,” Shuri assures you.

You force out a soft smile, adjusting yourself so you’re sitting on your knees in front of her. You heighten yourself to meet her eye level, cupping her tear stained cheeks as you bravely place a gentle kiss on her forehead. Shuri smiles tenderly, exhaling in relief. She grabs your hands as her own lips meet your knuckles. She’s so beautiful. Even in the midst of her pain and tears, her vulnerability makes you want to pull her in and take her pain away. If you could, you would. But you can’t. Instead, you just allow Shuri this moment of brokenness, evident of what she hides behind the bright sarcastic smile she wears almost everyday.

For the first time in your friendship, you feel like you know her. Truly, truly know her. Beyond her jaded smile, her capability to light up the room, and the hurt that comes after, you finally feel like you see her for who she is. You ponder all of this, making your already complicated relationship with her even more complicated. You loved her, you can admit that now, but you also loved yourself. It was no secret that Shuri was broken, but it often felt like she was slowly but surely breaking you in the process. The way she would lure you in, lead you on, and then leave you with nothing, it hurt. But you knew you couldn’t just leave her, and now you fully understand why.

“I’m sorry I can’t be what you want me to be. I can’t give you what you deserve,” she says, almost like she’s reading your mind.

“And what is it you think I deserve, Shuri?”

She takes a deep breath in, admiring the tree that hugs the both of you, making you feel small.

“You deserve someone who’s gonna make you smile, gonna give you 100 percent. You deserve someone that’s not gonna make you feel like…this.” She holds your hands, just brushing her lips against the crevices of your knuckles.

“Shuri…I don’t need 100 percent. I just need you to be honest with me.”

She continues to look down, her tear stained cheeks gleaming against the sky’s reflection. You place your palm on her cheek, and she buries her face there. You love her. Oh how you love her.

“I want you to know I’m here for you, Shuri. And I love you…but I can’t keep up with this push and pull with you because everytime we get closer, you pull back, and it’s exhausting,” you choke up.

“I know, sthandwa, I know.”

“Then why do you keep doing that? It’s hurtful, but you know I can’t stay away from you, you KNOW how much I like you and being around you makes me feel…incredible. And sometimes it seems like you feel the same but then other times…not so much.”

Finally Shuri’s dark eyes meet yours.

“You know I love you, right?”

“No, actually I don’t know. I know you’re broken and I know you need love, but do you actually love me?”

“I do.”

“Then let me in. Let me be there for you.”

Silence.

“Shuri…please.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleads.

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. But I NEED to know that you’re not going anywhere either.”

“Everyone I love…dies.”

You sigh. Her hurt is so heavy, it seems like the atmosphere around grows thicker with each tear that’s shed, making it harder to breathe.

“Shuri--”

“No, listen to me y/n. Everyone I love dies. Do you understand that? It’s why I could never allow myself to fully give myself to you, because if I admit that I love you, then what happens? I can’t lose you. I just can’t, I need you, please don’t leave me,” she cries through shattered breaths. She is sobbing, her face buried into your hands as your knuckles collect every tear that streams down. The sight of her in complete and utter surrender to her brokenness forces you to pull her in, her head seeping into your chest as she weeps into the fabric of your shirt. You hold her like your life depends on it, like HER life depends on it.

“Sshhh, baby it’s ok. It’s ok baby, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here. It’s ok.” You repeat those words over and over again, as many times as necessary until she believes it. You hold her in your embrace, as her stifling sobs become less and less. Even when her sobs come to a halt, she lingers in your grasp, basking in your scent that she loves dearly. You remind her of home and you wanted to be her home, even if that meant having to deal with the reality of her shattered heart. It didn’t matter to you, because you were more than willing to pick up the pieces along the way and fix it like a 1000-piece puzzle. Shuri clears her throat, wiping the tears off her face as she comes back up to meet your gaze. Her face was puffy, her lips swollen from all her crying but even in this state she was beautiful and everything you could ever ask for. She caresses your face with her thumb, wiping away your tears as she finally brings you in for a kiss. Contrary to popular belief, this was your guys’ first kiss. Your lips press against her swollen ones as you relax into her. The world around you went black and white, the tree and Shuri being the splash of colour in the painted landscape surrounding you. She releases you from the passion of her lips and for the first time, everything was right.

“Let me take you home, yeah?”

“Mhmm.”

You guys kiss once more before leaving the comfort of the tree above.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The car ride allows Shuri to come back down, her sarcastic self returning after pouring her heart before you. This time, it felt lighter. Because even though you have always loved the part of her that was able to consistently bring laughter to your lips, you love it even more now that she has nothing to hide from you.

When you guys reach your apartment, Shuri continues with her usual gestures; unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the door for you. She follows you into your complex, leaning on the door frame in anticipation. On any other day, she would invite herself in without your permission but not this time.

“Can I come in?”

You chuckle at the question. “Of course you can come in.”

You get comfortable in your satin pink Victoria Secret Pyjama set, shorts with a matching button up top. You slide on your fluffy slippers and walk back out as Shuri is clicking away at netflix. Shuri laughs at the sight of you in your pj’s and you give her the finger.

“What? I think you look cute.”

You roll your eyes, taking your place beside her as she continues searching for a movie.

“I don’t see why everyone raves so much about netflix. There’s nothing good on here anyways,” she teases, setting the night on a good tune. You snatch the remote from her hand, looking for your favourite comfort movie.

“What are you looking for?”

“The Greatest Showman.”

“Say what now?”

You hit her on the shoulder, laughing at the way she bugs you.

“It’s a musical. It’s good.”

“Fuck a musical. Imagine if we actually broke into song in real life, that’s how stupid it looks.”

“You’re insane. Musicals are amazing.”

“Whatever. If you wanna watch it, then I wanna watch it.”

You rest your head on her lap as she caresses the curls on your head. She rudely takes the remote and pauses halfway through the movie.

“The fuck was that for? It’s not done.”

“I know, but I’m done. This is boring.”

You alter your position, the back of your head resting on her thighs as you look directly up at her. She lets out a crooked smile, and your heart trembles at the site of gold shimmering on her bottom teeth.

“Those look good on you. Like, really good on you.”

“Thanks, I made them myself.”

Of course she did.

“Well, what do you want to do then?” you ask, unsure if you’re hinting at something deeper or not.

“I wanna do whatever you wanna do.”

“Bullshit. I wanted to watch The Greatest Showma--”

“You know what I mean, nkosazana,” she cuts you off. “Don’t be difficult.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, as you ponder her words. It was all so much. Normally, she would tease you with just the right amount of sex just enough to get you aroused, making sure her grasp on you is still there, and do nothing to ease your sexual frustrations and it was almost hurtful. You desired her in every way possible, yet she denied you the pleasure of her. Was this time any different?

“Shuri, don’t. Every time you do this, you rile me up, get me wet and then leave me hanging. It’s annoying.”

“I get you wet?” she teases.

“Don’t act oblivious. You know you do and you do it on purpose.”

Shuri chuckles at the way you’re so easy to piss off.

“It’s not funny.”

“It’s kinda funny.”

You remove yourself from her lap, sighing in annoyance as your cunt grows damp…again. Shuri kisses you, and you moan into her mouth at the contact of her grills. You didn’t fully notice them earlier when you shared your first kiss, but now you do and your mind pictures the gold grazing other places, and that’s the end of it. The kissing becomes more and more aggressive, forcing you to straddle Shuri. You hover over her lap as you begin to grind lightly.

“Open your mouth,” Shuri whispers, low and husky in her demand. You obey, as Shuri slips her tongue inside, tasting the way you salivate for her. She grabs your waist, influencing the way you grind into her crotch and it makes your pussy pulse in desperation. She pauses as she admires you. You’re so worn down and tired, not only from the intense day you shared with her but because of the endless war you had between your mind and your heart for Shuri. She notices this, the way you crave her and this time she promises to ease your ache. She slides two of her fingers into the satin of your shorts, and feels the soaking wet arousal through your panties.

“Fuck baby, you’re soaking wet.”

You shut your eyes in embarrassment. Nothing is even happening and yet you feel like you can explode from Shuri’s words alone. It’s almost like this was her plan the whole time, to string you along and play with your emotions so when the time came, you would give in without difficulty. You bite your bottom lip as your light moans start to pool out. Your eyes soften as Shuri’s thumb presses your clit through the material of your panties. You rock into her, needing more.

“It’s ok sthandwa, I’ll take care of you. Here let’s get these off you.” Shuri slips the satin shorts off, continuing her slow and torturous movements over your clit. You tilt your head back a little, your breathing picking up as you softly beg for Shuri to give you more.

“Please Shuri, I need more,” you exhale. Shuri smiles, pulling you in for a kiss. She pushes your panties to the side, exposing your milky cunt. The wetness pulled with the material of your panties, making a mess on Shuri’s fingers.

“Bast y/n, how long have you been wet like this??”

“Since the car ride to the restaurant,” you shamelessly admit, trying to control the pace of your breathing. Your chest is heaving up and down, and Shuri rips the buttons of your shirt, your cleavage pushed into her face.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, sthandwa sami, I’ll make it up to you,” Shuri says, driving you insane. “You’re so beautiful,” Shuri continues, but your mind isn’t even fully there. You just want her, all of her.

“What is it you want from me?” Shuri teases, knowing exactly what you want but she wants to hear it from your own mouth. You’re so timid, but not timid enough to keep yourself from getting what you so clearly need from her.

“I want you inside of me,” you pant.

“Uthixo ntombazana (Good girl).”

Shuri takes her two fingers, wetting them with your pleasure before she slips them inside, pumping in out. She slowly, but surely, picks up the pace as you dig your head into her neck, moaning so closely into her ear as inspiration for her to keep going. You feel it everywhere, your whole body on fire as your pussy is screaming to release itself.

“I’m gonna stop pumping my fingers for a moment, sthwanda. I want you to bounce and ride my fingers, pretend it’s my dick, yeah? Wanna see your tits bounce in my face as you ride me,” Shuri softly demands.

“Ok,” is all you’re able to say in the midst of your pleasure. You start bouncing up and down, appreciating every stroke you feel rubbing up inside you. Your cunt is pulsing, twinging for more. You pick up the pace, your breasts bouncing up and down to the tempo of your movements as Shuri just sits there and watches the way your body trembles at her touch. You’re a moaning mess, every leap brings you that much closer to your release and you can feel it immensely. Shuri takes her thumb and circles your clit, forcing you to clutch onto her shoulders as you ride her out. Your head bucks backwards and your mouth is wide open as Shuri’s name falls out, your body sweating at the impact.

“Shuri…Shuri you feel so good inside of me. I wanna cum so bad in your hand.”

“I’ve got it from here y/n, you did so good,” Shuri assures as she proceeds to finger your cunt, curling them just right to hit the area you terribly needed her most. She quite literally finger fucks you, smiling wickedly at the way you surrender to her touch.

“Shuri I’m gonna cum, I can feel it.”

Shuri slides a third finger in, your pussy expands with ease like it was prepared beforehand. You moan her name unapologetically, dipping your head onto her shoulder as your grasp onto her thick curls. Shuri loves the feeling of your pussy widening as she pushes in and out you, assaulting your walls like your pussy belongs to her.

“I’m so close, baby, so so close. Please don’t stop.” Your mind is in another world, preparing your body for the celestial experience approaching the muscles in your cunt. Shuri slams inside you a few more times, allowing your core to finally release itself. Your eyes shut as tears pool out of your eyes. You moan Shuri’s name with confidence, as you bury your face into her neck once more.

“Oh my god, Shuri. UNH. Shuri…I…”

“I know baby, it’s ok. Let it out. Just let it out, it’s ok.”

“Oh my god, oh my fucking god…”

Shuri lets you ride out your high before she pulls out, your slick running down her hand.

“Again?” you desperately plead.

“What’s that, mama?”

“...again?”

“What do you need me to do, nkosazana?”

You get shy and bury your face into the palm of her hands. Shuri places a kiss on your forehead, easing you of your embarrassment. She unclips your bra, your breasts pooling in her face. She picks you up with her panther strength and lies you on your back.

“It’s ok baby, just tell me what you need.” Shuri pinches one of your hard, erect nipples and takes it into her mouth, caressing and fondling your other breast.

“I want you-”

“Mhmm?”

“I want you to touch me, or lick me, whichever one works, just please…please Shuri I need you.”

“I am touching and licking you.”

You can no longer take the teasing.

“My cunt. Please, fuck my cunt, please.”

Shuri smiles. “Anything for you, nkosazana.”

Shuri travels her way down your body, leaving nothing untouched. You are breathing heavily, you have quite literally never felt like this before. Shuri’s mouth approaches your thighs, but she stops to spread you open a little more, admiring the glistening pussy in front of her, wet with the desire that she created. She smiled, proud of the power she had on you. She begins placing kisses in between your thighs and you push your cunt forward, signalling your dire need for her mouth on you. Shuri laughs softly at the gesture.

“Don’t worry y/n, I’m getting there.” She plants a kiss on your throbbing clit, taking it into her mouth, sucking and kissing until it’s swollen. You are a mess, your mouth hanging open from the influence of Shuri’s tongue between your pussy lips. The coldness of her grill and the warmth of her tongue combine to create the most seraphic feeling.

“Do you want me to take these out?” Shuri asks, motioning to the gold layered on her bottom teeth.

“No, please don’t. Please, it feels so good, don't stop.”

Shuri obeys, taking her tongue into the flesh of your sex. Your back arches in response as her tongue meets your clit again.

“Shuri that feels so good, fuck.”

“I know, baby.”

“Please-please don’t stop, keep going.”

“Trust me, I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

Shuri lifts her face off, and looks at your swollen cunt. Her mouth glistened with a mixture of her own saliva and your pleasure. She takes two fingers and inserts them into you, forcing you to grip the fabric beneath.

“You’re so beautiful baby shit. I love the way your pussy wraps so tight around my fingers like that. Like you’re molded just for me.”

“Unh, yeah…I like it too,” you struggle to say amongst your pleasure.

Shuri cocks a smile and continues to pump in and out, placing her thumb on your clit once again. Both your eyes and head fall back, the palms of your hands tingle with warmth.You can feel the nerves around your clit tightening and the muscles inside you begin to shudder.

“Look at you baby, you’re a mess. All because of my touch.”

“Shu-Shuri?”

“Yes baby?”

“Can you put your mouth on me again? Your grills feel so good on my pussy, please.”

This makes Shuri wet herself, although she already was. Seeing the power she had on the beautiful goddess beneath her sent her cunt dripping. But her priority is making sure you cum multiple times before she does. It’s the least she can do after everything she’s put you through.

Without hesitation, Shuri lowers herself back down to your brown pussy. She takes her two fingers, using them to spread your labia open, paving way to the fleshy colour that hid beneath. The sheen glaze of your juices reminds Shuri of the way sap seeps out of trees back home.

“Bast y/n, you’re so wet. So wet and puffy for me.”

She sinks her mouth back down, licking and kissing your pussy lips as she continues to pump her fingers in and out. She takes your clit back into her mouth and slightly bites, sending your mind into hysteria. The mixture of pain and pleasure, along with warmth of her tongue is almost enough to send you over the edge right then and there. And the grills. The grills just feel so fucking good grinding against your clit and pussy lips.

“Yes Shuri, that feels so good. Unh, I want to cum please.”

Shuri lifts herself off and removes her fingers, leaving you completely untouched and it’s unbearable. Shuri notices this and reassures you.

“I’m going to make you cum ok? I can feel your pussy throb on my mouth, y/n.” She climbs back up, placing a kiss on your forehead as she caresses your face. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t believe I made you wait this long.”

She makes her way back down, splaying your knees over her shoulders so she can reach depths you didn’t even know you had. She laps away, making strategic movements with her tongue into and around your pussy, making sure her grills are making contact with your enlarged clit. You're digging your hands into Shuri’s curls, trying not to grasp too tightly but you also cannot help it. You ride her face, circling your hips to apply more pressure. Shuri moans into you as the world around you goes silent, with nothing but the sound of raw lust spilling out of your throat mixed in with the wet commotion of Shuri’s tongue against you.

“Shuri? Shuri I have to cum,“ you whimper.

“Try to hold on a bit longer nkosazana, I’m not quite done. You think you can do that for me?”

“Ye--Yeah. I think so.”

“Good girl.”

You pause your circling hip motions, allowing Shuri to just eat you out. It takes every ounce of muscle in your body to not cum at that very moment, and it makes you squirm in anticipation. Shuri continues lapping away, consuming you like she’s starving. The room around you begins to settle somewhere between a blur and a galaxy with all its colours. You were going to cum, your pussy pleading to spill into Shuri’s mouth. You cross your legs around Shuri, basically putting her into a headlock. Her face is completely drowned into your wet cunt, as you proceed to ride her face. You can feel the blood flow between your thighs increase, causing the blood vessels in your pussy to dilate.You hyperfocus on the way Shuri’s grills play with your clit and it sends you over the edge. You feel it everywhere, from the back of your neck all the way down to the soles of your feet. Your eyes roll back as your mouth drops open, moaning in your utmost satisfaction as your heart pulses almost as fast as the nerves in your pussy.

“Oh my, OH MY FUCKING GOD, UNH. Holy fuck…shit Shuri. FUCK.”

You unlock Shuri from your leg grip, as she comes up and kisses you on the mouth making sure you taste your own pleasure that gleams against her dark skin.

“You’re incredible,” she says into your mouth, trying to catch her own breath.

You blush, still attempting to grasp reality as you push through your orgasmic high. She was more than you had ever imagined, surpassing every sexual fantasy you had of her prior to this very moment.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, y/n.” Shuri helps you put your pyjamas back on, and you’re trying so hard not to fall asleep. Shuri cradles you into her chest, placing kisses all over your head once again.

“So you’re a ‘sleep after sex’ type person? Duly noted,” Shuri teases.

“Shuri?”

“Yes y/n?”

“Stay with me tonight, please.”

Shuri lets out a mellow smile. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

She plays with your curls, delicately placing her fingers between each coil.

“I…I just want to say I’m sorry, for all the shit I put you through. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

You look up at her, her brokenness piercing through those brown eyes you love so dearly.

“Shuri, nevermind all that. Just be with me, yeah?”

Shuri lets out a sigh of relief, a single tear escaping her tear duct.

“I love you so, so much,” she says. You know the strength it took for her to say that, to admit the love she carried after losing almost everyone that came before you. You’re so proud of her, so in love with every ounce of her being that it sets your body in an overwhelming fire. But the heat only cleared the path to the love you wanted to give her, the love she deserved after the world ripped everything she ever cared about.

“I love you, Shuri. Always.”

This is it. This is all you need. All you both need. You fall asleep in each other's arms, as you dream about the big tree. This time there was no brokenness, no pain. Nothing but love and genuine happiness as you kissed her underneath the tree’s embrace. ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

[hp-hcs]

IM THE ONE WHO REQUESTED THE THEODORE X MALE READER THING AND IT WAS AMAZING I LOVE IT SO MUCH OMG

i’m glad!! 😭😭 i was stressing out so much over that one cause there’s no real coherent plot but i pROMISE I KNOW WHERE THE STORY’S GOING

ends at kind of a weird spot cause idk how to end anything ever

ty to the person who said this could be a five part series. i appreciate your confidence in my attention span.

requests? please, sir, i want some more 🥺🤲

this fire ain’t the only thing that’s camp (Chapter Two of Splinched) — death eater! theodore nott x splinched! male! muggleborn! reader

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Theodore comes tromping back into the clearing with an armful of branches, twigs, pinecones, and duff. He clumsily dumps the load into the snow, wiping snow off of the log-turned-bench by the fire pit, and sitting down.

“Okay, now what?”

“Build the fire,” you instruct. “Make a pyramid shape.”

You bring your hands together so that your palms are far apart but your fingertips touch, making an ‘A’ sort of shape to illustrate your point.

“The pine needles and dead leaves and stuff, that’s all great tinder. It’ll burn the quickest, and help start the fire. Put that in the middle of your pyramid. Build your pyramid around that with the kindling; the twigs and thinnest branches.”

Theodore does as you say, making a rather shoddy pyramid that he seems quite proud of.

You pull your blanket tighter around yourself. You sit inside the entrance of the tent, the flap open and pinned back so you can still talk to Theodore.

You had caught a nasty fever the day after Theodore’s spell, leaving you incapacitated for days. To make matters worse, an unexpected snowstorm—nearly a month too early—froze the entire forest. The storm itself reeked of bad magic; everything about it seemed unnatural.

Merlin must’ve had a vendetta against you both, because additionally during that time, Theodore’s wand had begun to spark and malfunction. The Dark spell he’d cast must’ve done serious damage to the core. But his wand had fully given up that morning, shriveling up and blackening like a spent match.

You toss him your lighter and watch as he unskillfully manages to light the tinder, by the grace of God, and cheers with a loud whoop! that sends the birds in the nearby trees scattering into the air.

“Now just add the bigger branches as needed,” you advise, your teeth chattering.

Much to his chagrin, Theodore was quite relieved with your silly Muggle knowledge. He had no idea how to make or light a campfire without his wand, but you assured him that it wasn’t difficult to do the Muggle way.

Glancing over at you with a dumb, silly grin on his face, quite proud of his own achievement, he opens his mouth to mock-boast, only to have his breath stolen from him.

You still look quite sickly, rather weak and tired, but you really make quite a sight. Against the dull olive of the tent and the muted dark blue of the blanket you’re completely enveloped in, the red, sick flush of your face stands out quite a bit. White snowflakes dot your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes seem to track his every movement.

Stop it, Theodore. You have a job to do.

Clearing his throat, he makes his way back to the tent, ducking in and sitting next to you while occasionally glancing over to keep an eye on the fire.

Your face barely peeks out from the thick blanket as you peer out at him. You clearly are thinking of asking him something.

Please don’t ask why I did it, please, for the love of Merlin, don’t ask, don’t as-

“Why’d you help me?”

Fuck.

“Hm?” Theo hums, as if he hadn’t understood you, wrapping one of the spare blankets around himself.

“You could’ve just left me to bleed out. Or you could’ve said fuck it and Apparated anyway. Why’d you help me?”

“The Dark Lord doesn’t like his things damaged,” Theo says in a gruff voice, any friendliness in his demeanor completely vanishing and signaling the end of the conversation.

You just nod, retreating back into your blanket cocoon.

You both sit in silence.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Chapter Three

[ottpopfic]

Prologue

[prev]

-

It's been two and a half weeks since Leo died last

Jason is positive he's not handling it well. He's never handled any of them well, but the fact that he heard Leo die this time makes it different

Every other death there had been no sign of the other, just Piper and whatever bullshit they have gotten themselves into. But the last time, standing at the exit of the Sphinx's maze listening to Leo get crushed to death just out of his sight line had been horrible . Piper had had to hold him back from running in after him

So Jason taking off right after he had his sob fest might have been an asshole move to Piper on his part, but he couldn't stay there. They are getting closer, he can feel it. The spacing of the deaths is getting shorter, and that little window where they are both alive at the same time allows them to get closer to each other each time. Jason can feel that they are in the last push, that it's any day now and he might actually see Leo

Can he handle that, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter anyway, he's still going to keep trying

Currently, Jason is trying to reverse tree the other man. Zuse has turned so many people into plants that Jason is pretty sure it can be done in reverse. He spent over a week in research and flying about, finding the original trees people have been turned into and taking cuttings. He's hoping that he can draw energy from them and have Leo detreed back to life somehow

He's made a home base at the Baucis and Philemon shrine to his father. The place is set in a lovely grove of Oak and Linden, with the two lovers' trees twinned together behind the temple. The temple is guarded by what feels like half a million Canadian Geese, and Jason once again hates that he speaks bird

Like there's nothing wrong with birds per se, but they are loud, and opinionated, and rude. And also most of what they talk about is food and fucking, at great length and volume, which is not the most fun to listen too

Jason is down in the wildflower patch under the temple, a big clearing made by a long-ago flood. He's carefully flatted down the Jewelweed and Forget-me-nots like that one documentary on crop circles he watched with Will forever ago, bending the plants but not breaking the stems, it's a holy site after all 

Around him are the cuttings of the people plants he's been arranging into piles. Hyathsenth, Fig, Apple, Myrtle, Olive, Fir, Weeping Myrrh, Cypress, Walnut, Laurel, Popular, and of course Oak and Linden

“Godling, that bad place for nest,” a goose says as it toddles up to Jason through the wildflowers “Gramcracker can show you water if you need. Gramcracker built good nest with Cheerio by water, hatch many eggs”

“It's not a nest,” Jason tells the waterfowl

“Look like nest” Gramcracker observes, tilting his head “Sticks in circle. Not good nest, need better structure, try layering sticks not in piles”

“It's not a nest,” Jason explains “I'm trying to bring someone back”

“Back from where?”

“The dead”

“That fool errand”

“I've done it before” Jason sighs “I just gotta try something new this time”

“Ah” the goose nods “Lucky mate then”

“He's not my mate”

“Don’t, understand “ Gramcracker questions “Why build nest if not for mate?”

“It's not about him being my mate,” he sighs again “He can go have a life with someone else if he wants to, I just want him by my side”

“As mate?”

“Yeah,” Jason looks over at the goose “But he doesn’t have to be if he doesn’t want to”

“Make no sense then,” Gramcracker questions “Why build nest not for mate, no do dance yet?”

“Yeah, we haven't done a dance yet,” Jason snorts out a chuckle “But I'm making this so maybe he can come back and we can do the dance”

“Nest first then dance smart move,” the goose complements, sitting down next to him and tucking his little bird legs away “Did same with Cheerio worked very well”

“Are you happy with your Cheerio?” Jason asks him

“Very much!” Gramcracker flufflels himself out in contentedness “She's good mate, we hatch many eggs”

The goose sits with Jason as he works, simply watching his apparently atrocious nest-building 

“Why this one as mate” Gramcracker eventually asks “Many other birds on lake, less crazy godling work”

“Because he's, everything at this point,” Jason says back “We have been doing this for so long, I don't think I can stop now”

“Sunk fowllacy” 

“It's not just that, it's that he does it back. We haven't known each other for so long , but every time I go he calls me back again. He doesn't have to, but he does. It makes me want to do the same in return”

“Because love him?”

“Yeah” Jason smiles to himself “Because I love him”

“how long since been with mate”

“Three years”

“Three years ” Gramcracker squawks “That too long”

“You don't get it, you're just a bird” Jason twirls the cutting of Apple in his fingers “I heard him the last time, in the maze as it collapsed. He was there ”

“Gramcracker may be just bird,” the waterfowl ruffles himself in discontent at his answer “But Gramcracker know how to be good mate. If mate is in there you go to them”

“This is me going to him,” Jason tells the bird “If my ‘nest’ works I'll be closer this time. This time maybe I can actually see him”

“All this just to see ?!“

“We get closer each time,” Jason says, looking down at an intertwined twig of Oak and Linden “And the deaths are getting sooner. If we keep at it we might make it”

Gramcracker gives a contemplative honk “Strange curse on your mate godling”

“Yeah” Jason checks his notes again “but we'll break it eventually, we have to”

“Here idea,” the goose tells him ”Gramcracker know where good berries are, good roots. When break curse, come to Gramcracker. You two hatch many eggs then”

“Thank you friend,” Jason says laying out the last of the twigs “I might take you up on that”

-

@queenjunothegreat

[yourlocalegotisticalqueerishere]

pls elaborate on athens!

Omg it was so cool!!!!

We went for a sightseeing holiday, because I'm an ancient Greece nerd, so I'm going to just dump about the sights and then move on to other things

I'm going to try and use a cut here for the rest of the post, idk if it's going to work though

So, we went up the acropolis, saw the Parthenon (HUGE, very cool) (I did get confused at the acropolis entrance because it looks like a big temple), the temple of Athena Nike (cool), the Erechtheion (awesome), the place where the first olive tree was (I infodumped a lot this holiday), and we saw the Odeon of Herodes Atticus (thought it was the theatre of Dionysos). We also saw the Theatre of Dionysos from a distance which was cool. On the same day we saw the Temple of Olympian Zeus (bugger than I thought) and Hadrian's Arch, and the Acropolis museum which was really cool (we saw the Caryatids and talked a lot of shit about Lord Elgin). We saw the Roman Agora and Hadrian's Library on the next day, and the day after was the National Archeological Museum and the Benaki Museum. And the next day was the Panathenaic Stadium (stairs to get up to the top were. Scary) and the museum that was there (lots of Olympic torches and posters, plus the mascots from the 2012 games. I was like "hey I know those guys"). And on the last day we saw the Ancient Agora (insanely huge, birthplace of democracy)

Other things that happened: I fell asleep sitting up on the plane there (slept through the worst plane landing of my mum's life somehow). And then standing up on the Metro as well? There are also a lot of stray cats in Greece, but it's less like they're strays and more like they live outside? People feed them and they just wander around, it's really cool.

Also, everything was way closer together than we thought based on the map we had lmao, so on the first day we were like "why is the Parthenon right there, I thought it was ages away"

Iced coffee in Greece? Brilliant, would recommend.

Also I think in Greece they're cool giving teens alcohol if they're with an adult, because a waiter literally told me that on our last day when I asked for a glass of wine, and his eyes bugged out when my mum said I was 20, because he thought I was 16. As I told him, "this happens all the time"

Anyway, Greek food is really good, but I swear I eat less when it's hot, which is very annoying because why can I not eat half a salad and then a whole plate of souvlaki and rice? Why must I be punished in this way?

Also I had an ice cream accident, by which I mean I got two humongous scoops of ice cream and they were okay flavours and then they melted loads and my hands were sticky all the way back to where we were staying.

Also! Hot as FUCK. SO HOT. Flames on the side of my face hot

My recommendation for Athens: do it, but bring SPF 50, white flowy clothes, a hat and sunglasses. Also a hand fan. And don't go places when it's hot in the day, you will regret it. Also plan where your going beforehand and buy your tickets to go places so you have a plan. Also if you are afraid of heights do not go up the Panathenaic Stadium. It is scary.

Also I spent most of the plane back reading Glee fanfiction (specifically "mr schuester belongs in federal prison" because I had the whole work loaded) and then on the drive home from the airport I slept a lot and then woke up to Me Against the Music (GCV) , because I'd put it on the playlist. And then when the next song played I started saying delusional shit because it was like 5am Athens time and I'd had half an hour of sleep

[smuttyandabsurd]

Off Days (England x Greece)

Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia Pairings: England/Greece, minor America/England Rating: Teen and Up Word Count: 2,384 Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts

Summary: After Alfred's death, Arthur is left with a void in his life, and he goes to Greece to relive the memories of their last holiday together. There he meets Herakles, a young Greek man who unexpectedly guides him to a path of healing.

This fic has been in WIP hell for 10 years, but I finally found the push to finish it. Originally written as a follow-up to an even older fic The Ghost of You.

Thank you @cluster-bi and @all-turns-to-moss for your help and insight.

Read it on AO3.

The phones were ringing all around, and Arthur kneaded his forehead as he weathered through a viciously abusive barrage from an irate customer.

“Sir, please lower your voice or I will be forced to terminate this call.”

When the customer screeched at him for being a stupid script-reading monkey (“Sir, please try to keep this conversation civil...”), told him to fuck off (“…this is your second warning…”), and finally, to go kill yourself, he ended the call with a tight-voiced, “I am terminating this call. Please call again when you can hold a professional conversation. Good day.”

He hung up and punched in an idle code before the phone could ring again, then rose to his feet. Fifteen minutes, he signalled to his harried-looking team leader who gave a terse nod.

It was not as if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind before. He had thought of it, repeatedly, but only as a shadow which he had never voiced aloud. He did not have to do it now that a customer had said it for him: Go kill yourself!

His walk in the bitter spitting cold brought him to his usual haunt, a pedestrian overpass stretched across a busy road at the back of the office building. He leaned against the railings, nursing a Styrofoam cup of milky tea from the vending machine. A tonne truck blared as it bounced along under the bridge. He wondered what it would feel like to fall under those wheels.

Vaguely, on an unconscious impulse, he stepped onto the bottom rung of the railings and leaned all his weight forward. All that stopped him from falling now was a thin sheet of rusting metal digging into his hips.

It felt… wrong. It felt very wrong, and a primal survival instinct screamed at him to step back!

No, no. If he was going to do it, he was going to do it right. He would do it on his own terms, which was most certainly not at the back of a dilapidated office building at the behest of some prick over the phone.

Ten minutes later, he was back at his desk filing for a two-week holiday request. His team leader would have to approve it; it was getting near the end of the business year, and holidays were not transferable over to the next.

He spent the rest of the day looking up cheap flights to Greece in between phone calls.

-

It was stiflingly hot when he landed in Heraklion International Airport. Mercifully, an air-conditioned coach had been arranged to shuttle him and other tourists to their lodgings for the week. They sped past brown scrubs and fields of olive trees with the sea looming to the left, lapping mutedly under a harsh afternoon sun.

Arthur closed his eyes, feeling a wave of nausea as the coach hurtled along. He imagined Alfred beside him, combing warm gentle fingers through his sweat-dampened hair and murmuring comforting endearments.

“You’re going to be alright, babe.”

There was no Alfred, but he did remember to bring his motion sickness medicine. He took them with a swallow of water before leaning back into his seat with a sigh.

-

After booking into his room, Arthur dumped his suitcase, stepped out of the compound, and went over to the corner shop he had spotted on the way in.

The shop was well-shaded inside from the sun and dust. He browsed a few souvenirs on display before collecting a fresh bottle of water, a Cornetto ice cream (mint-flavoured, which had been Alfred’s favourite), and a box of Paracetamol. He had to point at the last item through a glass case so the shop owner could retrieve it from behind the counter.

It took some time for the large-built and rather sleepy-eyed Greek to tot everything up on an old cash register before finally intoning, “8 euros 30 cents.”

A cat leapt onto the counter and stretched atop a stack of newspaper as Arthur peeled a tenner from his wallet and handed it over. “Keep the change,” he said.

He was leaving the shop, pulling the Cornetto out of the bag and gritting the tip in between his teeth, when he happened to glance back.

The Greek youth was picking up the cat and cradling it in the crook of a strong tanned arm.

-

A pleasant sea breeze picked up in the evening, but Arthur was forced to shut the windows against a cloud of mosquitoes.

He had just come out of the shower, the water tasting salty on his skin. Rubbing a towel into his hair, he padded over to the dresser and picked up a box of matches, striking one alight. He lit a few lemon-scented tea lights and spent a few minutes spacing them out around the room as further ward against the mosquitoes.

A tea light was left on the dresser, which sat with a long unflickering flame before a row of pill bottles. Most were painkillers or sleeping pills, but there was also a haphazard collection of cough and cold medicines in blister packs he had dug up from the bathroom cabinet back home. They were all over-the-counter medication he had bought from different drugstores over a period of time.

He took the box of Paracetamol from the corner shop and placed it with the rest. A grim satisfaction settled on his face as he studied the growing pile.

There was also a framed photograph of himself and Alfred leaning on the dresser which had been taken two years ago at the beach. Alfred was handsomely tanned, wearing a white shirt that clung tightly to a soldier’s physique, and his eyes were as blue as the hot Greek summer sky in the backdrop. He had his arm around Arthur as they posed, Arthur standing a little more stiffly but looking just as happy.

He picked up the frame and smiled faintly at the memory of that summer holiday, just before Alfred was dispatched. He gazed longingly at Alfred, wishing he could touch and kiss him and take in his scent – a mixture of fast-food grease and mint chewing gum, and some cheap dreadful deodorant he insisted on using.

“I love you,” Arthur whispered before he could stop himself, a verbal habit resurfacing now that he was back in Greece even though there was no Alfred to reciprocate his love.

-

He was seeing a lot of the young Greek man from the corner shop.

There were the morning visits for bottled waters and mosquito repellent, and lately he even took to dropping by in the afternoons for refreshments. Half a week flew past in this way. Today was a Thursday and, as evening approached, he found the youth working behind an open bar whilst he was out on a walk along the beach.

Their eyes met and lingered with a familiarity, forest into olive green. It was becoming difficult not to acknowledge him properly after all the times they have seen each other.

He went over to the bar and glanced along the row of beer pumps before deciding on one.

“I’ll have a pint, please,” he said, tapping on his choice.

The youth pulled out a fresh glass. “3 euros,” he said as he pulled him a draft.

“Cheers.”

One pint led to six as the sun dipped and extinguished itself in the ocean. A chill stole silently over the beach, and after two whiskeys and an ouzo shot (courtesy of a high-spirited bar owner), Arthur found himself doubled over a gutter at the front retching up his guts.

The vomiting had started with chunks of a half-digested fish dinner before turning into liquid bile. Shivering and heaving wretchedly, he took turns clinging to a man – young, handsome, firm muscles – and pushing him away, unable to make up his mind.

“Don’t touch me!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with abuse, as the stranger caught him from tripping onto the pavement and into his own vomit.

“Come with me. We will go somewhere quieter.”

He was half-walked, half-dragged out of the bar and back onto the sand, led away from the thumping, pulsing music and partying undergraduates who were drinking themselves into oblivion.

The sea air breezed over Arthur, drying the perspiration that was sticking his clothes to his skin. His head was clearing and his roiling stomach was beginning to settle. After half a minute’s walk, he felt a lot better. He leaned into the stranger’s arms, trusting him a little more.

After some time, they stopped at a piece of driftwood log and sat down. The world was spinning, and Arthur dropped his head into his hands with a low moan.

“Drink this.”

He was offered a bottle of mineral water, ice cold and dripping with condensation with the cap already twisted off. He accepted it gratefully, rinsing out his mouth of vomit and bile before drinking his fill in big greedy gulps.

“Thanks!” he gasped after he had finished.

The stranger took the bottle from him, capped it, and placed it gently in the sand before him.

A cloud cleared from the moon, and Arthur could finally focus on the stranger’s face. It was none other than the Greek youth from the shop and bar. He was still in his bar uniform, smelling of dish soap water and stale cigarettes. He had on his usual stoic face that was not unfriendly.

“What’s your name?” he asked in a deep but youthful voice, his olive-green eyes taking on a soulful solemnity. Arthur felt his heart skip a beat.

“Arthur,” he said, feeling himself flush. “And yours?” he said hurriedly.

“Herakles.”

Like the demigod, Arthur thought to himself. Or he may have thought it out loud as Herakles cracked a soft rare smile, just for him.

They sat on the log together, staring out at the ocean and the slowly lightening sky, letting the gently lapping waves to fill the silence that had formed comfortably between them.

-

My darling, I am sorry. I do not have the courage. I miss you dreadfully. I love you.

Arthur stared blankly at the words he had written. He was sitting in the balcony of his room and the wind was picking up, causing the corners of his journal’s pages to flap. Sighing, he closed the book and smoothed his hand over the cover.

He had purchased the journal along with a cheap blue Biro for the trip with every intention of writing his will in it. An embarrassing sentiment, in retrospect, considering that he had nothing to his name and hardly anyone that he knew or cared to leave anything to. After a moment, he tossed the journal aside and reached for a tattered paperback. He flipped through the dog-eared pages to get to where he stopped last.

He hadn’t made much headway with the book, but he had every intention of giving a good go of it now that he wasn’t planning on dying anymore.

-

At some point Arthur must have fallen asleep, for the next moment he awoke with a jolt to find that evening had crept up on him.

He jumped up to his feet and stretched, his body stiff from having lain in the deckchair all afternoon. Stifling a yawn, he padded over to the edge of the balcony and leaned against the railing. The wind from the day had died to a gentle caressing breeze and it felt nice on his sunburnt skin.

Down in the courtyard was a lone figure in knee-length khakis and an unbuttoned shirt circling the swimming pool with a stick. On closer inspection, Arthur made out that the stick had a net at the end which the man was dragging across the surface of the pool to fish out any debris. He watched as the man worked, slightly mesmerised by the ripples forming in the water. Slowly, he recognised the man to be Herakles, the shopkeeper slash barman slash (he supposed?) hotel pool cleaner…

Arthur dashed into his room and straight out the door before he could realise what he was doing. He took the stairs two at a time, his sandals slapping loudly on the concrete steps as he clattered down to the ground floor. He almost slipped on the last stair, his arms windmilling wildly and rather comically to any errant observer, but he righted himself at the last moment, and he continued in the direction of the pool.

His heart beat tightly in his chest as he ran.

Herakles was emptying the net of leaves and twigs when Arthur, gasping and perspiring profusely, burst into the courtyard. The young man watched curiously as Arthur rounded the pool and came to a stop in front of him, his hands on his knees as he stood doubled over and panting.

“Last night, I… I…” Arthur gasped out in between frantic gulps of air.

Gradually, as he caught his breath, and Herakles showed every sign of waiting patiently for him, Arthur pushed himself from his knees and stood up straight.

“Thank you,” he said. “Last night, when you listened to me talk- I, uh… want to thank you. I hope I didn’t come across... well.” He cleared his throat. “I just wanted… to thank you. Yeah.”

He turned and made to slink away, suddenly overcome with embarrassment – god, the boy was only helping out a drunken old fool! – but Herakles grabbed hold of his arm and held him back.

“You are welcome,” Herakles said haltingly, smiling softly. Then a little more solemnly, “Alfred seemed to be a good man. I am sorry for your loss.”

Arthur felt his lips quiver. He sniffed, trying to stave off the prickling in his eyes, but the tears came unbidden and slid noiselessly down his cheeks. He hadn’t realised it, but it had been a long time since anybody had said Alfred’s name out loud to him.

The silent tears gave way to a low keening that seemed to rise from the very depths. His shoulders began to shake. A small sob bubbled up in his throat. Then, like a dam breaking, he was crying. He dropped to his knees, dropped his face into his palms, and began crying in earnest.

Herakles joined him on the ground, his hand rubbing Arthur’s back gently, reassuringly. It was warm and comforting.

[timespaceandfilm]

Reinventing the Wheel - Ch 24: Radio Silence

Author: timespaceandfilm

Fic Rating: E - this fic has some NSFW content in other chapters, 18+ only

Chapter Rating: M

Pairings: Sebastian x Female Farmer

Notes: This chapter includes some alternating between Charlie's POV and Seb's.

Chapter Word Count: 15 k

Chapter Warnings: cognitive distortions, anxiety being a lil bitch, ghosting, bad/lack of communication, Sad Times in the Mines, Mines-related violence

Chapter Summary: Charlie and Sebastian try to navigate the first real problem in their relationship

Blurb:

Sebastian POV

I wake up in Charlie’s room with a purring void laying on my chest.

“Hey buddy.” My voice comes out in a rasp. Fuck how long was I out? What even happened? Where’s Charlie?

There’s a glass of water and a note on the bedside table. I move Jiji down to my lap and sit up. The water is still pretty cool. She hasn’t been gone for long. I pick up the note, taking in her somewhat messy handwriting.

Be back soon. Going to bring Sam his birthday present. 

If you wake up while I’m gone, give me a call. We need to talk.

Fuck.  

My heart thuds in my chest. 

That’s right. I fucked up.  

Again .  

I glance out the window. The golden light of the sunset is reflecting off the lake by Charlie’s chicken coop. Has me thinking about our first night together. The way that same golden light had her hair aglow as she laid across the bed with me, her gorgeous features radiating the pleasure I made her feel. How she was so trusting and so willing to open herself up to me.

And what did I do with that trust? Fucking tossed it in the garbage and lit it on fire pretty much. Accused her of lying behind my back when all she’s ever done is be honest, or at least be honest about not being able to be honest. I just had to let my emotions get the better of me. Had to go and do some stupid shit even with her warning me not to.

Jiji sits up and rubs his head against my chest.

“I fucked up, Jiji.”

Meow.

“I don’t deserve her.”

Meow.

“After everything she’s done for me, this is how I repay her?”

Meow.

I keep petting the lil guy for a while, trying to get nice and covered in his fur. The perfect Demetrius repellent. The thought of Demetrius has more memories flashing through my head. Why did him walking away that afternoon trigger me so bad? I try to focus on that memory, replaying it over and over in my head until suddenly the memory changes. 

Now it’s not Demetrius walking away, it’s a taller man with dark hair and olive-toned skin. My father. And he’s not walking up the basement stairs. He’s walking out the front door. I’m tiny and I’m on the floor and Daddy is walking out the door with a suitcase in his hand and a black, wide-brimmed hat on his head.

I gasp as the sensation of a tiny, rough tongue pulls me out of the memory. I can feel my hands trembling and my breathing start to pick up.

Promise me you'll tell me if you feel like that's gonna happen again.

Charlie’s gentle voice echoes in my head. I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. I should call her.

You don’t deserve her.

I promised though.

Do you want to be even more of a burden on her? After everything that’s happened today?

I set my phone down. Instead I try to replicate the exercise she coached me through last time. I can see the cat on my lap, the rug on the floor, the trees outside, the laces on my boots, and the covers on the bed.

There. That’s better.

See? No need to bother her with your weird brain going haywire. You can manage on your own.

Read the Full Chapter on AO3

[maleficentfanatic99]

*Sad And Emotional Rant on 2019*

*Crying Softly without any sounds while I was laying on the bed while I'm Sad in Silence* Hello everybody, it's me again.

😢😢😢😢

Now it's 11:00 at night and I'm starting to feel sad in silence while I was crying softly, because of me having a depression moment right now.

Don't worry guys, I will feel better tomorrow in the morning, or afternoon.

But right now I'm lying on the bed suffering from depression while crying softly without any sounds and listening to sad music.

Now I cannot move, eat, drink, sleep or do anything in the middle of the night.

Today I'm gonna do a Sad and Emotional Rant about 2019.

Because I'm not in the mood for doing the intro, and outro right now.

Warning: this post does contain sadness, so please bring box of tissues to wipe your face we don't watch to feel sad or If you don't want to cry in this post just don't look at this post go look at something else

Like my good post about "Movies" "Video Games" it's some of the other stuff.

Sorry for being off topic on this post so I've apologize for that everyone that's okay though it happens.

*Crying Softly without any sounds while I was laying on the bed while I'm Sad in Silence*

😢😢😢😢

So Back on March 2nd, and March 3rd, 2019. I just suffered from depression because I went to Delaware. I started to feel sad. I started to cry with tears inside my eyes.

I stayed in my bedroom feeling depressed laying in my bed instead of coming out, the reasons why I felt depressed and laying down in my bed?

That's because I've really wanted to see my dog Tek Boy some more, If I come out of my bedroom while I'm depressed which I don't want to do that.

I wanted to stay in my bedroom, because my mental health has been negative, and damaged, because of my autism, depression, anxiety, panic attack, and anger issues, so yeah.

Back on March 5th, 2019. When I stay in my bedroom cold while I feel deep down with depression, I became a Goth Person while

I'm listening to the same Goth Music and talking about pain all of the time.

I put on Black Makeup inside of my eye shadow, I dress up in Black Clothing.

&

That's why I'm a Goth Person forever, after I feel deep down depressed.

Summer 2019 I saw Jack Morpeth was bullying me, and made my mental health downhill, when my feelings got hurt by him.

2019 is the worst year ever in my opinion.

Because it fucking sucks!

So before I tear 2019 year apart, do I have any positive reviews about that year?

Maybe?

Here's some good times that year?

I hang out and see my dog Tek Boy. We watch TV together like “The Simpsons” “Duckman” “Totally Spies” “Code Lyoko” “Friends” “Unikitty” “Dino Squad” “Jessie” and other good shows we watched.

BTW? I love and miss Tek Boy, because he's a good dog to me when I always have good memories with him.

&

I always won't ever forget that.

I've watched some MX Gameplay Videos on YouTube which is really good.

I went to stores like Walmart, Kmart, Mall, Dollar Tree, Dollar General, GameStop, Auntie Anne's Wawa, Royal Farms, ShopRite, Five Below, Quickcheck, and other stores I went to.

I also remember I went to Fortune Buffet for my 20th Birthday, and I got Call Of Duty Black Ops 4. I was Happy Crying Tears of Joy with it.

&

Not just that. I just cook some good food.

I also went go to Restaurants and order some food like “KFC” “Taco Bell” “Popeye's” “Five Guys” “Arby's” “Burger King” “McDonald's” “Wendy's” “Subway” “Jersey Mike's” “Applebee's” “Olive Garden” “Red Lobster” “Dunkin Donuts” “Roy Rogers” “Smashburger” and some of the other Food Restaurants I went to.

Because I love going to the stores to buy stuff, and going to Restaurants to buy some Food and Drink to eat at home.

In Summer Vacation 2019, I went to the Mexican Restaurant in Ruskin. To have some Hard Shell Tacos, and Rice and Beans. Because I love going there to get some Tacos alot.

Because Tacos is my number one favorite food of all time along with Rice, Pizza, and etc.

Maybe one day?

I'll might take an Uber to Olive Garden to eat in the restaurant, or I’ll be saving all of my money so I can order some Olive Garden food for Delivery so I can order myself some “Chicken Alfredo, Salad with Balsamic Vinegar, Breadsticks and a Coca-Cola Zero Sugar.

Because I really love eating Fettuccine Alfredo, Breadsticks, and drinking Diet Coke from Olive Garden, since I had that back July 28th, 2019. Because those are really good stuff.

Not to mention I just had some homemade Chocolate Peanut Butter Bars, and Fried Oreos when I went to Atlantic City.

I really love going to Restaurants, and Stores.

Maybe one day I'm gonna save all of my money.

I'll might take an Uber to Ocean County Mall to buy some stuff at F.Y.E Hot Topic, and GameStop during the Snowstorm in Cold Weather.

&

Then after that I might hang out at the Mall while I'm waiting for the Uber to pick me up to drive home, or I might get dropped off at Roy Rogers so I can get myself some food and drink for dinner while I'm doing my Ritual Video.

After that I get home I'll do some Vlog video and show you guys the stuff I got from GameStop, Hot Topic, F.Y.E.

Back in Spring 2019, I just had a fun time going to Florida.

I went to swimming the Pool, driving the Golf Kart and going to St Petersburg Beach.

Here's one more thing before I move on with the negative reviews about this year?

I went to the Food Court in “Costco” and I really love that store. Because I get their Pizza, and a Fountain Soda.

Since I really enjoyed eating Costco's Pizza from the Food Court.

Maybe one day? I should go to “Costco” to get some Pizza, and a Fountain Soda from the Food Court.

Then that's it.

So those are the only positives about this year.

As for the negatives, I have a lot of negatives about this year.

*Still Crying Softly without any sounds while I was laying on the bed while I'm Sad in Silence*

😢😢😢😢

Sorry about that you guys,

I just feel like this right after, my mental health wasn't doing so good.

No guys, I'm not in the mood for raging rant tonight.

&

It's just a sad post I will be doing, I'm laying on the bed while I was crying softly without any sounds when I'm feeling feel deep down because of my depression.

Once again, I can't get up and move, to sleep, eat, drink, and not do anything right now since it's the middle of the night.

&

I hope I will feel better in the morning, or afternoon after I'm done taking anap.

So anyways here's my negative reviews about this year.

My negative reviews about that year?

I just got myself some food at Royal Grill 37 when I eat it, and it made my stomach hurt.

Well, I used to like Royal Grill 37 when I enjoyed eating their food, but nowadays it sucked because of my stomachache.

&

I rather eat better food from the other “Food Restaurants” is way better than Royal Grill 37 in my opinion.

If you guys still like that restaurant, I can handle your opinion.

So another negative review about that year?

Back in October 2019 I was Angry at myself while I was at QuickCheck.

I was grabbing myself some Chocolate Covered Pretzels, and Coca-Cola Slurpee, go to the cash register to pay and I don't have enough money to buy those things and now my mental health has been negative, and I'm starting to feel sick after I lost my appetite about don't have enough money to buy those things.

I just run through the restroom sink to wash my hands with Hot Water, and then the Hot Water doesn't work.

I went home to wash my hands with Hot Water to made me feel better while it's cold outside.

*Still Crying Softly without any sounds while I was laying on the bed while I'm Sad in Silence*

😢😢😢😢

Here's another negative review is?

The thing that made me feel heartbroken the most is?

They shut down Kmart in my hometown, because it made me feel emotional, and I'm going to miss Kmart so much.

Because Kmart is a very good store. Since they have good games, movies, and Music CDs as well.

I gave that store a 10/10. “It was Awesome and Masterpiece!”

Here's the last negative reviews about this year, then I'm gonna end the post.

Back on Thanksgiving 2019, I started to feel sad, because of my mental health has been going down I started to have anxiety, and suffering myself with depression after I ate some Thanksgiving Dinner, and Desserts, I wasn't have a good Thanksgiving Day back in 2019 because of my anxiety, and stuff like that so yeah.

Back on Winter 2019, Spring 2019, and Summer 2019, my mental health goes downhill, and he also made me suffering myself from depression as well so yeah.

So 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022. Are my least favorite years nowadays so yeah.

*Still Crying Softly without any sounds while I was laying on the bed while I'm Sad in Silence*

😢😢😢😢

That's all the negatives I have about 2019.

I will do a Sad and Emotional Rant about (2020), (2021), and (2022) as soon as I can, whatever I feel like it.

Before I end this post, If you guys still like 2019 That's totally fine. I can handle your opinion on it.

So after all guys.

I'm giving 2019 a 0/10 “It's Bullshit!”

This is me over and out and I'll see you guys later on my next post, when I'm feeling better and I'll see you guys later and peace out everyone gotta go fast for now.

*Plays the Sad Classical Music while I'm laying on the bed crying softly without any sounds during my chest inside of my hearts hurting while Sad In Silence when I'm feeling deep down depressed*

[wizkiddx]

3 hearts broken

I did an angst thing again oops also not proof read double oops

summary: an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

warnings: alot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) idk anything else except commitment issues?

////////////////////////////////////////////

It was an argument you and your boyfriend regularly had. In fact, it was the only argument the two of you ever had. And especially recently, one that Tom seemed to want to have every day. It didn’t matter where you were on set; in the rental home; out for dinner. Or like now… in the airport lounge.

You were sitting across from each other in a semi-private booth. Tom in his joggers and a burgundy hoodie, you in your black leggings and an oversized tee that actually belonged to your boyfriend. The rest of the place was almost deserted, given the late-night time of the flight. It was probably why Tom felt so comfortable bringing up this touchy subject in a public place.

You were both way past overtired too, owing to the end of a gruelling shoot. All you wanted was to get back to London and get into your own bed. Without an unnecessary fight with Tom.

Unfortunately for you, when you had naively said those exact words, Tom’s overtired brain skipped straight to it being a personal attack.

“I don’t see why you can’t commit to moving in Y/n! We practically live together for filming anyway so-“

“I love you Tom, more than I could ever express. I just… I can’t do this yet. I need… more-“

“More time, I know.” He grumbled, already standing and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder - as the flight’s gate was announced by the intercom. Had he not already turned his back and started heading along the hallway, you would’ve tried to protest and calm him down. But thanks to his urgency to get away from you… all you could do was sigh. Slumping back against the seat before hauling yourself up and grabbing the bags - that he had helped you with on the way in.

No doubt this would be a long flight.

That it was. Tom had been maturely giving you the silent treatment at the gate, as you were boarding, and finding you seats. You were both in first class, so you had adjacent little pods with a little partition in the middle. It’s standard position was to be lowered however, before you’d even been able to settle into your window seat, Tom had already switched to button to have it slowly slide up.

Real fucking mature.

Thinking he just needed some time to cool off, you rolled your eyes but let him be. Even though you were such a frequent flier, you were terrible at getting any sleep on them. Tom knew this, knew how much you disliked the idea of being hurtling through the air in a tin can. Usually, he’d be holding your hand, entertaining you by watching a movie and providing a shit commentary over the top. Sometimes, when you were both as exhausted as right now, he’d even slide into your chair, having you perch on top of him so you could fall asleep listening to his heartbeat in his chest. Now though? He refused to acknowledge your existence.

Tom never had such issues flying, he was like a switch that could just choose to fall asleep at any and every point. Which is perhaps why it shocked you to see him still wide awake, staring angrily at the corner of his pod when you went to the loo, hours later. Thinking it was time for a peace offering, on the return to your seat you made eye contact and began to smile softly at him. However, that plan lasted for all of two seconds, since as soon as he realised you had seen him staring, Tom instantly shut his eyes - playing asleep.

He really was being particularly stubborn tonight.

By the time the plane landed, he’d still refused to say anything - and it was starting to really piss you off too. You’d tried to be mature, tried to offer the metaphorical olive branch and he had quite literally thrown it back in your face. So by the time you were being escorted off the plane (first because you were first class), you hung back from your boyfriend, wanting to have your own space.

Which was exactly why you didn’t want to give up your own apartment yet!

The two of you walked across the bridge into the terminal with a good 8 metres between each other. Tom didn’t bother to turn round and check on you, taking purposeful steps as though he wanted to get away.

Thankfully the terminal was quiet, probably due to the ungodly hour in the morning you’d landed at. The halls echoed only with your and Toms footsteps, the echo exaggerating just how far away you felt from him at this point. Still, Tom hadn’t acknowledged your existence, or anyone elses for that matter - the pair of you almost got to baggage reclaim before seeing any other humans.

And that is where it all went wrong.

It was typical, an otherwise empty airport except for you, Tom and a family with 2 girls. 2 teenage girls. 2 teen girls whose eyes widened to almost comical levels at the sight of your boyfriend. You’d seen them from a mile away, but from Tom’s reaction to them - he clearly hadn’t.

In fact, you were such a distance away you couldn’t exactly hear the exchange. But what you saw, had your heart in your mouth.

The girls ran over from the seats their whole family were sitting in, squealing at Tom with that overcited little jump you’d seen so often. Instead of Tom turning to them and entertaining them with small talk and a photo or two - he did the opposite. If anything, he quickened his cadence, looked as though he waved the girls off without muttering two words.

And maybe there was a reason. Maybe they had shouted something really rude at him - but fuck, the chances were slim. One looked ten, and one looked a couple of years older - as you approached, you saw the dejected and shocked faces melt into ones of intense disappointment. The eldest turned and hugged the younger, whose chest appeared to be shaking in a way that meant only one thing. Tom had made her cry.

Just as both the mother and father stood up to rush to the girls, you matched their hurried steps - getting their first.

“Hi, excuse me… “

You felt really awkward but knew you had to do something for these poor girls. And quite possibly for Toms career too. “Are you guys okay?” It took a second or two, but the girls clearly both recognised you too (thank god), throwing nervous looks at each other.

“Are yo-you Y/n?” The younger one asked, bright eyes glazed in tears which broke your heart to see.

“Yeh-yeh I am, what are your names?” You knelt, smiling warmly at the girls, who seemed to chirp up a bit.

“I’m Tima” The eldest spoke first before nudging the other to speak. You waited patiently till the little girl had wiped her eyes before replying.

“I’m Azara.”

“Wow, you’ve both got very beautiful names. Where are you both headin-“

“Can I ask you a question!?” Litte Azara burst out, interrupting you, but in the cutest and sweetest way. You just laughed and said of course, as she twiddled with her thumbs nervously.

“How big is the biggest T-rex?” Her little eyes were so curious and you had to suppress a giggle, seeing how serious it was.

Of course, the T-Rexs in Jurassic world (one of your movies) were all CGI. But Azara didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, they are bigger thanthan the tallest trees you’ve ever seen!”

You carried on your little chat with the girls for five or so minutes, laughing with them and exchanging soft nods with their parents too - who seemed appreciative of your time. Eventually, though, it was the dad who pulled time on the exchange, signalling that the girls had taken up enough of your time. As you stood up, Tima spoke up - after being relatively withdrawn from the conversation.

“You’re friends with Tom Holland right?” You nodded, subconsciously biting your lip to see what she would say. “Can you tell him sorry for bothering him, it’s just Azara was excited, we only wanted to say hi.”

Yeh, there was absolutely no way these incredibly sweet girls did anything to Tom. He was just being a knob.

“Hey, it’s not your fault at all. We’ve just had a really, really long flight, and he’s in a bit of a mood at me - I’m so sorry that he let it out on you.”

That explanation seemed to satisfy Tima with a nod, and with some final hugs you bid the girls both farewell. By this point, the rest of your plane had caught up along the corridors, so it was busier, and you had to fight against the small crowd to get through the airport as quickly as possible. Because you were seething with rage for Tom and could not wait to tell him exactly what those poor girls thought of him.

Unsurprisingly Tom had chosen not to wait for you in the airport at all, instead already hiding inside the blacked-out windows of the 4x4 waiting at the collection point. You marched up to that car angry to the point you thought the whole airport would notice. Yanking the door so hard you were surprised you did no damage to it, you threw your bags in - momentarily ignoring the sight of Tom huddled into a corner, staring at his phone with AirPods in.

But once you slammed the door shut and the driver started the car, you let yourself go.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“Y/n can we just leave it for- “

“You made 2 girls cry!!! You were so self-absorbed in your temper tantrum that you made 2 teenage girls cry. You proud of yourself?”

This time he did look at you, eyes wide and confused - clearly not understanding. So you continued - laying it out for him.

“Those two girls you waved off because you were so busy running away from me? Well the youngest one cried and then the eldest didn’t speak and when she did it was only to ask me to apologise to you. You’re a fucking dickhead!”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Oh god, that makes it all better. You didn’t mean to make them cry on purpose, so it’s fine! God if you’d only said I’d-“

“Fuck off Y/n you’re not being fair, cut the sarcasm.”

“I’m not being fair?!? Because I’m the bad person in this situation, right? I just saved you from a very, very bad headline tomorrow morning because you were too busy giving me the silent treatment.”

“Yeah, well, your the one who doesn’t seem to give a damn about me!”

You scoffed hard at his words, air trapped in your throat that now felt completely stuck. How could he say that? How could he even think that?

As much as you hated showing it, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Because who the fuck did he think he was.

“Now that, that is so unfair. You know exactly my history and why I don’t want to move in yet AND you know just how much I fucking love you. So don’t you dare.”

“You're not convincing anyone.” He spoke quieter, but the venom behind his tone was still there. As the first tear escaped over your bottom lashes, you knocked on the partition to the driver and asked him, in no uncertain terms, to pull over.

“Congrats Tom. That’s three women you’ve broken the hearts of in 20 minutes. Must be some sort of a record.”

And with that you slammed the door shut, abandoned on the side of the road somewhere within Heathrow.

?a part 2? idk where id go from here aha

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala

[wrencatte]

the (hopefully) humorous beginning to what will eventually fill a bad things happen bingo square. the holidays (and the work load they bring) is really taking all my (creative) energy

“Jason.”

He holds up a finger – one second – and peers through the scope. With a quiet, steady exhale, he pulls the trigger and – pop! smack! Vicious swearing drifts up towards his perch and he smirks triumphantly. Deeming it safe, he slides the safety on and flops over to give his brother a winning smile.

“Dickiebird, how lovely it is to see you. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Dick raises an unamused eyebrow. “Did you just shoot Tim?”

“You have no proof.” Branches cracking in the distance has him rolling his eyes. “You know, for little birdies, y’all suck at rural everything.”

He finally gets a huff of amusement, Dick’s lips quirking into a half smile. “That’s why we’re out here, Jay.”

“Yeah, well, no amount of capture the flag is gonna save your sorry asses when push comes to shove,” Jason retorts.

He’s already turning back to his stomach, peeking through the scope for movement. Their urban stealth lessons do jack shit out here in the woods between Bristol residences and the county line. He hears every snapped stick, every rustle of branches. He’s gotten Tim four times, and Damian only twice due to his training with the League.

It helps, though, that they weren’t expecting him to come to this shindig with a sniper rifle full of paint pellets. He grins when he spots the flash of Tim’s dark red hoodie. It widens when it disappears as quickly as it came and isn’t seen again. Good, they’re finally learning.

“Still think we should’ve gone somewhere actually rural,” Stephanie mutters.

Jason follows a trail of dark green as Damian almost-expertly weaves between trees. He’s getting closer to where Tim disappeared, and he grins in anticipation for that fallout. The brats have been getting along a lot better lately now that they realized they had more things in common than just Robin. It’s been an eye opener to see the kinda shit the two of them get into when they put their heads together – and he and Dick are usually the unlucky victims of it.

But right now, they’re tired, covered in paint, and getting sniped from an unknown position. Tensions are running high. And it’s ripe for an epic fight. If someone doesn’t come out of here with blood on their knuckles, he’s gonna be real fucking surprised.

“Well, we would’ve if someone didn’t shout YOLO and fuck off a building,” Jason says, finger hovering just off the trigger. Dick fails to cover his laugh. Steph groans audibly. “How the fuck are you on this comm line anyway? Go away.”

“Babs,” because of course. “Don’t get shot!”

“I’m the one doing the shooting here.”

“Don’t get shot by hunters, you asshole. I prefer you guys without bullet holes, ‘kay?”

Jason rolls his eyes; hopes she can hear it in his voice. “Spoken like a true East Ender, Blondie. There’s no huntin’ in Bristol. Nothin’ to hunt.”

“Oh, you’re so knowledgeable, mister Got-Adopted-by-the-Richest-Man-in-America,” Steph mocks. Jason scowls. “Don’t come crying to me when a hunter mistakes your skinny ass for a deer.”

“My ass ain’t skinny!” Jason snaps – then swears when there’s an audible click of her disconnecting from the network. “New rule, no blondes allowed in the manor,” he tells Dick. Bruce would like that rule – keeps Oliver out. Too bad Barry’s included.

Dick laughs again. “I take it Steph is being a menace?”

“As fuckin’ usual.”

Jason pauses – lets that comment sink in then –

He throws himself to his feet just as Damian and Tim burst out from the bushes and part around a smug Dick like it’s a practice maneuver. Which, considering, it probably is.  

Jason ducks under Tim, bends in half to avoid Damian. He slides out his back-up from behind his back and – holds it against Dick’s temple, his feet braced apart, arm extended outward. It’s a bad position, someone can easily sweep one of his legs from under him or jab his inner elbow to unlock it, but everyone freezes either way.

“You’re such an asshole!” Jason spits. Tim laughs – and, aw shit, he’s inching towards Jason’s abandoned rifle.

Dick smirks. “Takes one to know one!” he says brightly. His arms are casually crossed, his body set loosely. Completely unconcerned. Like a fucking asshole. “I can’t believe it took you so long to notice.”

“Did you set Steph on that?” he demands. Dick shakes his head. Jason’s frown turns murderous. He might become an only child real soon. “This is against the rules.”

“Oh, and bringing a sniper rifle isn’t?” Damian says hotly, even as he carefully sidesteps in front of Tim to hide what he’s doing. “We agreed no weapons.”

“You agreed no weapons. I didn’t agree to shit.”

“That’s now how that works!”

The rules being that they have comms so Babs can call score, but no one is able to communicate with each other. Only Dick, Damian, and Tim have been talking. Dick hunted down Jason and gave away his position on purpose. Steph broke her arm YOLO’ing (which is an exaggeration of what she actually did, she hurt it on patrol) which is why she’s not there and why they decided to do it in Bristol (the real training will come when she’s healed). Her butting in actually ruined Dick-Tim-Damian’s ambush by giving away the comm thing too early.

[tobesolonely]

it’s not christmas ‘til you come home

a/n: hello!! please enjoy this piece from my dad!harry universe! (u dont have to read any of them for it to make sense, but it would be cool if u did! loosely based on it’s not christmas ‘til you come home by norah jones <3 hope you enjoy! thank u to @harryysstyless​ for beta reading for me!! happy holidays everyone :)

warnings: SMUT, a bit of angst <3 word count: ~5.1k 

my ko-fi! thank you :)

December 23rd, 2:00 PM

For as long as you and Harry have been in a relationship, you’ve never not spent a Christmas together. 

Before expanding your family, you and he used to hop from party to party every Christmas Eve. Both of you would be absolutely trashed by the time Harry’s driver would drop you off at his house in the early hours of the morning. You’d sleep in until approximately noon, willing your hangovers to go away before finally making it down the stairs and into the kitchen to prepare two steaming cups of coffee. The two of you would then make your way into the living room and exchange gifts (where Harry always went way over the budget you’d set). 

Once you had your first child, Allison, your yearly tradition of party hopping and getting so drunk you could hardly put one foot in front of the other was no more. Instead, you and Harry opted for calm nights in, watching Christmas movies and drinking hot cocoa until she eventually grew tired and got carried up to bed. You would wait an hour or so before springing into action, playing Santa and setting out all of the gifts she asked for and then some. Harry never forgot to take a big bite out of the cookie and carrot left out for Santa and his reindeer.

This tradition stayed the same once your second baby, Oliver, was born. Even though he was too young to know what was going on, Harry was still excited to spoil him rotten this year as it was his first Christmas. However, given the current state of the world, you were afraid Harry would not be here for the first time ever.

“Mumma, when’s daddy coming home?” your six-year-old, Ally, asked for what had to be the seventh time that afternoon. “I made him a drawing for his gift ‘nd I can’t wait for him to see it!”

“Let me see what you drew for Daddy, love bug,” you say cheerily, purposefully glossing over her question. Ally proudly holds her drawing up next to her face. She looks up at you with wide eyes, awaiting a compliment from you. 

“That’s gorgeous, bug! Daddy’s gonna love it,” you inform her. “Maybe you can stick a lil’ bow on it and set it under the tree for him, hmm?” 

“Good idea, Mumma!” Ally runs to the box where you kept all the supplies for gift wrapping, digging around for a pink bow to stick on the corner of her drawing.

While she’s preoccupied with finding the perfect bow to place on her drawing for Harry, you take a quick glance at your phone. He still hadn’t gotten back to you since last night’s quick conversation when he very briefly mentioned he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it home.

He was filming in Los Angeles. You shared your uncertainties about him going before he departed but in the end, this was an opportunity you didn’t want him to miss out on. You read the Los Angeles Times free articles on your phone daily, keeping track of the state of the pandemic in Southern California. You knew it was much worse there than it was at home in London. You feared what you were afraid of was sadly bound to happen— Harry may get stuck in LA.

You didn’t want to say anything to your curious daughter because communication with him had been so sparse. You didn’t know anything for certain yet. But what were you supposed to think? You knew flying nationally wasn’t a good idea at the moment, never mind internationally.

“Hey bug, d’ya think you can watch your brother for a moment? Mumma’s gotta go make a phone call.” 

You hear your daughter let out a slightly irritated sigh. “I suppose I can, Mumma.” Ally responds with a voice laced with exasperation. You chuckle slightly under your breath at your overly dramatic (much like her dad) six-year-old and head into the kitchen, quickly dialing your husband’s familiar number.

“Hello?” 

You let out a sigh of relief upon hearing Harry’s low, hoarse voice. 

“Hi, honey. Just checkin’ in to see how things are going…” you hear shuffling on his end. “It’s December 23rd, you know.”

“I know, love.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Six in tha’ mornin’ here.”

“I’m sorry, H. S’just Allison keeps on askin’ when you’ll be home and ‘m just so worried you won’t make it home on time and you’ll miss Oliver’s first Christmas—“

“Darling,” Harry interrupts your anxiety-fueled ramble. “‘M gonna make it home. Have I ever not been there when I said I would?” 

“No,” you say quietly. “I’m just worried, Harry. I hear traveling is going to get very strict because they’re trying to prevent people from going anywhere for Christmas…”

“Fine, then I’ll get my own plane with jus’ me and a pilot. Wear a mask the entire time and whatnot. Yanno I can make that happen if it’s necessary, pet.” 

Harry’s calm demeanor about the whole situation brings you a bit of peace. Perhaps you were catastrophizing something that wasn’t as big of a deal as you thought it was a mere two minutes ago. If he wasn’t worried about not making it home, you didn’t see any reason to stress about it— not for one second longer.

“Okay then,” you reply, still a bit wary of his travel plans. “What shall I tell your daughter? She’s drivin’ me up the walls asking where you are every twenty minutes.”

Your husband lets out a breathy laugh, causing you to giggle along with him. “Tell her not to eat up all the Christmas cookies before I get a taste of one.”

December 24th, 8:45 AM

Part of you was hoping you’d wake up on Christmas Eve and Harry would be tucked into bed next to you, plump lips parted, the sound of his snores the only noise in the room. However, you were a rational woman, if nothing else. You knew he wouldn’t be by your side when you woke up. 

You make your way down the hall and peek inside your son’s room. He was fast asleep, plump thumb in his mouth. You smile at your sleeping baby and gently close the door behind you, deciding to let him sleep in a bit longer before waking him up to feed him. 

Next, you walk to your daughter's room, gently pushing open the door in case she was still sleeping. Instead, you find her sat at her desk, deeply focused on what appeared to be another drawing. 

“Good morning, lovebug,” you greet your daughter in a sing-songy voice. “You’re up early. What are you working on?”

“Makin’ a letter for Santa,” she replies, not bothering to look up from what she was doing. 

“A letter for Santa?” You start racking your brain for anything you and Harry could’ve possibly forgotten to get for Ally, but you finished your Christmas shopping for your children way back in November.

“Yes,” she answers matter-of-factly. “‘M askin’ him to make sure my Daddy is home by tonight so we can eat cookies together and watch Toy Story, Mumma.” 

“I’m sure Santa will make that happen for you,” you reassure her. “You’ve been a very good girl this year, been so helpful with Olly and doin’ so well in school. The least Santa can do is get you whatever you want.” You see her smile as she digs around in her crayon box.

“Can we wait ‘til Daddy gets home to make Santa’s cookies, Mumma?”

“Sure we can, bug,” Ally claps her hands together excitedly, bouncing around in her tiny chair. “Gonna go make some pancakes, does that sound yummy?”

“Can we have chocolate chip pancakes please?”

“Are you askin’ me that because your dad isn’t here to throw a fit about it?” You give her a knowing smile, causing her to giggle.

“Maaaaybe…” Your daughter turns to face you, swinging her legs back and forth.

“If I make your chocolate chip pancakes, you can’t tell your dad. Deal?” You hold up your pinky. Ally gets up and runs to you and you bend down slightly so she can link her finger with yours.

“I pinky promise, Mumma!”

“Our little secret, yeah?” she nods. “Keep an ear out for your brother for me, bug. I’ll be downstairs.”

December 24th, 3:00 PM

“Love? ‘M afraid I got some bad news...”

As soon as Harry’s voice comes through on the other line, you can tell whatever news he’s about to share with you won’t be what you’re wanting to hear.

“What is it?”

It’s silent for what feels like entirely too long. You get up from your position on the couch next to Ally, telling her you’ll be right back. After breakfast, she convinced you to watch Toy Story with her, which quickly turned into a whole Disney movie marathon.

“Not so sure I’ll be able to make it home.”

You’re not sure if it’s his calm tone that bothers you, the fact that you didn’t want him to go to Los Angeles in the first place, or simply the fact that you and your children missed him terribly and haven’t seen him in nearly a month–– but your mood changes from relaxed to undeniably outraged in three seconds flat.

“You’re kidding.” Your tone is sharp, venomous. Harry once again takes a moment before responding, knowing that the current tone of your voice means he’d best proceed with caution.

“‘M not, love. I woke up early and everything to try and get this sorted out, it’s 7 AM so I was gonna try and catch an early flight––”

“I told you I didn’t want you going to LA,” you cut him off, voice rising slightly. “You knew how bad the pandemic was getting there. I told you this would happen.”

“What do you suppose I do then, Y/N?” His tone is becoming equally as sharp. “Y’want me to tell ‘em, “Sorry, I don’t give a fuck about the travel restrictions. My wife wants me home so let's make it happen!” ‘S that what you want me to do?”

“Don’t be a smartass, Harry,” you spit. “I’ll give the phone to your daughter and you can tell her you won’t be home in time for Christmas, then.”

“Y/N…” his tone is calm again. Fearful. “Don’t make me do that.”

“She woke up early to write a letter to Santa to tell him she wants you home by tonight, Harry,” your tone softens as well. “Even Olly has been asking for you. Swear his new favorite word is ‘dada’.” He laughs at this as do you, and the shared tension that was present just minutes ago dissipates. 

“Just… lemme try a few more things before I tell her, yeah?”

“Harry, it’s already three here,” you gently remind him. “Even if you do make it home today, she’ll be asleep by the time you’re home. I think you just need to tell her.”

Your husband sighs, knowing you were undeniably correct. “Alright. Give Allison the phone, please.”

December 24th, 8 PM

“Almost time for you to head to bed soon, yeah Allybug?” Your daughter lets out a loud sigh in response, not shifting her gaze from the television to you. Ever since Harry told her he wouldn’t be home in time to eat cookies with her, she’s hardly said a word. She’s never experienced a Christmas Eve without her father so understandably, she was missing him tonight.

You shift Olly, who was falling asleep nursing on your lap, into a different position so you could face your daughter directly. From your new position, you can see just how tired she looks. 

“‘M not sleepy, Mumma. Gonna stay up and wait for Daddy,” she informs you of her new plans. “When Daddy is home that’s when it’s time for bed.”

“Ally, remember what Daddy told you on the phone earlier? Santa won’t come unless you go to sleep.”

“I don’t wanna sleep,” she’s quickly starting to grow upset. “Not until Daddy tucks me in!”

You purse your lips, not wanting to argue with your headstrong daughter when your son was so close to drifting off into his nightly milk coma. Turning your attention back to the movie that was quietly playing on the television, you decide to drop it for now and try again later.

December 24th, 9:05 PM

Not more than an hour later, Olly is upstairs in his crib fast asleep whilst Ally is still laying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting sleep. She was determined to stay up until her father walked through the front door, and you knew getting her to agree to go to bed was going to be a battle and a half.

“You’re not ready to go to bed yet, Ally?” Her eyes fly open once she hears you addressing her.

“Not yet, Mumma. ‘M not sleepy yet.” Her words are a little slurred due to the exhausted state she was in. You hum in response.

“Could’ve sworn your eyes just shut for a minute there,” you pause for a second to see if she’ll look your way. “Must’ve just been my old lady eyes playin’ tricks on me, y’think?”

“I wasn’t sleeping!” She immediately defends herself, frown lines indenting her forehead. “Can we drink more hot chocolate?”

You knew if you wanted your daughter to fall asleep within the hour, another sugar rush wasn’t the best idea. You instead offer her a hot cup of sleepytime tea and she excitedly agrees once you tell her it’s her father’s favorite type of tea to drink at bedtime. You place her down on the kitchen counter while you fill the kettle and wait for it to whistle.

“What are you looking forward to the most from Santa, bug?” 

Her eyes light up at your question. “Well, I really want a new bike! ‘Member Mumma? How I asked him for a pink bike? And I also want a cool swing set! Since we haven’t been able to go to the park in so long,” her smile falters and she looks down at her dangling feet. “I want Daddy to come home the mostest, though.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to break in two upon hearing your daughter admit that Harry being home would be the greatest gift of all. “So do I, lovebug. He’ll be here in the mornin’ to watch you and your brother open all the gifts Santa got you though, don’t you worry.”

For everyone’s sake, you hoped that was true.

December 24th, 11:50 PM

Sleep wasn’t coming easy. 

You finally got your daughter to bed at around ten o’clock and waited thirty minutes before laying out your children’s gifts. It took much longer than it usually did considering you had to do it all on your own. Harry was usually the one to quickly assemble the larger toys while you laid everything out around the living room. 

Despite it taking longer than desired, you were proud that you got it all done without waking your children up. Consequently, that meant you were now left all alone with your thoughts considering you had no more tasks to occupy yourself with. 

You kept contemplating calling Harry, but you weren’t sure if he was busy on set or not. Surely he was immersing himself in work to distract himself from the fact he would not be spending Christmas with his family. 

Deciding you may need a cup of the sleepytime tea you offered Allison earlier, you quietly get out of bed and open your door, sock-clad feet padding softly against the wooden floors. It’s unnervingly silent in your home–– the tea kettle coming to a boil being the only source of noise. You keep unlocking and re-locking your phone, finally deciding to call your husband to see how he’s spending his day. It goes to automatic voicemail.

You assume the reason for this must be that he’s busy filming on set and set your phone down with a sigh, standing on your tiptoes to retrieve a mug from the cabinet. You mutter a slew of curse words under your breath intended for Harry who always puts the mugs up far too high even though you tell him not to.

Right as you begin pouring the now boiling water into your teacup, the faint jingling of your front door causes you to startle so badly that you nearly drop the kettle on the ground. You try to think back to everything Harry ever told you to do in the event of an intruder but your mind goes blank from fright. Deciding to use the scalding water as your weapon, you slowly creep towards the door, your only plan being to fling the water on whoever it was as soon as they got the door open. As soon as you hear the lock click, you flick the lid open that covers the spout and draw your arm back.

“Shit––”

“Harry?”

Your husband jumps slightly, his eyes blinking rapidly in an effort to adjust to the dark living room. You reach beside him and quickly turn on the light, shakily letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He looks exhausted, his hair is an absolute mess, and his eyes are red from sleep deprivation–– but he’s home. You set the tea kettle down on the coffee table and fling yourself into his arms, breathing in the scent of the man you haven’t seen in a month. He drops his bags at his feet so he can properly embrace you, pulling you into him.

“Merry Christmas, darling,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head and stays like that for a moment saying nothing, just breathing you in. “Missed ya so fuckin’ much.

“How? I thought…” you trail off. “You said that they said…”

Harry laughs quietly. “Remember what I told ya? I said to ‘em, ‘Don’t give a fuck about your travel restrictions! M’wife wants me home.’” You laugh at him, knowing he was far too kind to talk to anyone that way. 

“Yeah, okay,” you reply sarcastically. You pull him in for another hug, placing wet kisses along his jawline. “I’m so happy you’re home. The kids are gonna be over the moon, especially Allison.” Harry hums, surveying the room.

“Looks like you did a good job in here, Mrs. Claus. See ya even assembled some toys all by yourself,” he quirks an eyebrow. “Were you jus’ pretendin’ not to know how to do it all these years so I’d be stuck with all the hard labor?”

“Maybe.”

He pulls you back into him, tickling your sides. “My sneaky girl,” he bends down so his lips are level with your neck and sucks gently, causing you to let out a quiet moan. You see his eyes land on the tea kettle that was sitting forgotten on the coffee table. “Making a cuppa? Can I have one? ‘M freezin’.”

“I can think of something else we can do to get you warmed up,” you reach for his hands, interlocking his fingers with yours. “If you know what I’m gettin’ at.”

“Hmm…” Harry releases one of his hands from your grip and taps at his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Not too sure I can say I know what you’re sayin’. Maybe you should just tell me?”

You frown. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

“Y’know I’d give you the entire world if you asked me for it. All you gotta do is tell me what you want from me and it’s yours–– ‘m sure you’ve known that since the first day we met, though.” Harry takes a step back, crossing his arms across his chest. Even in his thick winter coat, you can see the way his biceps flex, and it makes you even more feral for him.

“Fine,” you say quietly, feeling yourself start to grow shy under his intense gaze. “I’m kinda... in the mood.” You say it so softly that it would most likely be inaudible to Harry if he wasn’t standing mere inches away from you. Harry throws his head back in laughter and you quickly shush him, not wanting any of your children to wake up.

“In the mood? C’mon, pet,” he uncrosses his arms and reaches for one of your hands. “Tha’s not tellin’ me what you want from me. Tell me exactly what you want, lovie.”

“You know what I want, H,” you tell him with a hint of annoyance in your voice. “It’s been a month. Yanno I want you to fuck me, why are you makin’ me say it?”

Harry gives you a shit-eating grin. “You jus’ said it. I didn’t make you say anything.”

You roll your eyes at his immaturity, already in the process of lifting your nightshirt (one of his old t-shirts that’s become just a little too tight on him) over your head. “Are we gonna get to it or not? Because if not, I’ll just go back to makin’ myself some tea and call it a night––”

Harry takes half a step towards you and reaches up to cup your face, colliding his lips with yours. His lips are a little chapped and taste of his favorite rose lip balm. You feel your body relaxing into the kiss, knees going weak as he walks you back onto the couch.

“You’ve been eatin’ up all the sugar cookies, haven’t you? Can taste it on ya. Thought those were for Santa,” he’s pulled away from you to examine your face. “A bit naughty of you, wouldn’t ya say?”

“Please stop referring to yourself as Santa when we’re about to have sex, Harry.”

“You’re not bein’ very kind to the person that’s about to go down on you, are you?” He sucks harshly on the valley between your breasts, wanting to be sure a deep-colored bruise will appear on your skin later. “That’s okay. It is Christmas, after all. ‘M in a giving mood.”

“Stop talking and get to it then.”

Harry slides off the couch and onto his knees in between your legs, gently kissing your thighs. “Cute pair of undies–– s’like you knew I was comin’ home tonight.” Before you can respond Harry’s fingers are tugging at the waistband of your underwear, eager to get them off of you. He presses light kisses to your core, mumbling about how much he missed the smell of you and how sweet you tasted. 

One hand is resting across your stomach while the other one is in between your folds, spreading you open. You try squeezing your thighs around his head, overwhelmed by the feeling of your husband’s lips around your clit after being away from him for so long, but he removes his hand from your stomach and pushes your thighs back apart.

“Feels so good,” you’re breathless, tangling your fingers in Harry’s hair as his hollowed cheeks begin to suck more roughly on your clit. “Missed you so much. Missed this–– us.” 

Harry pauses momentarily to look up at you. “I know, angel. God, do I know.” He attaches his lips back on you, swirling his tongue around your clit as you  choke back your moans. The hand that is holding you open moves down to toy at your slit as he wordlessly checks to see if you’re okay with his fingers being in you. 

“Please,” you say softly, encouraging his next move. He spits on his index and pointer finger before slowly sliding both of them in you, immediately curling them up. “Oh, Harry. Fuckin’ love when you do tha’...”

“Know you do,” His response is curt, simple. He’s focused on the task at hand–– getting you off. He uses the hand that’s lying across your stomach to rub tight circles on your clit, sensing you’re nearing your orgasm from the way you’re starting to clench around him. “Such a good girl fo’ me, darlin’. Gonna make a mess on my fingers in a second, aren’t you?”

You nod as you try to control your breathing and the loudness of your moans. The last thing you wanted was for your daughter to come down to inspect the source of the noise. “Fuck, Harry.” 

“Come on, darlin’,” he gently pinches your clit, causing your body to jolt at the sensation. “Gimme a good one. A lil’ welcome back gift for me, hmm?” 

Your hips are bucking up to the rhythm of his fingers slipping in and out of you as your orgasm quickly approaches. “Har, I’m close…” it comes out sounding more like a warning than a statement. He moves the two fingers he has inside of you in a back and forth motion, coaxing your first orgasm out of you.

“Tha’s my girl,” he whispers, not stopping his movements even as your back arches as your first orgasm rolls over you like a giant wave. “Givin’ me a good one jus’ like I knew you would. Jus’ like you always do. M’ sweet girl.” As you’re starting to still, Harry pulls his fingers out of you and holds them up to your mouth, instructing you to suck them clean. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can properly lean in to steal a kiss from him and notice a rather sizable tent has formed in his pants. Harry gives you a sheepish grin as he palms himself, hissing from the feel of his palm against his cock.

“Want me to do somethin’ about that?” You scoot over on the couch and pat the spot next to you, signaling for your husband to sit beside you. He lifts himself from his seated position, stretching his legs out a bit before plopping down beside you.

“Are you offerin’ me a blowie?”

“I mean, yeah?”

“Can we skip that an’ you can jus’ ride me instead? Think I’d quite like that.”

“Oh you would, would ya?”

Harry nods and unzips his pants, taking himself out. He licks his hand and gives himself a few pumps. “Still on birth control, I’m assuming?”

You roll your eyes as you move to straddle him. “Only been gone for a month, Harry. Of course ‘m still on it, you goof.”

“Can never be too careful. I don’t think now’s a good time for another lil’ one, do you? Think we should at least celebrate Oliver’s first birthday before we try for another one.” His hands are on his hips as he lines you up over his cock, helping you slowly sink down. You missed the burn of him which was even more intense than it usually was considering it’s been a while since he’s taken you.

“I think you’re right,” you reply. You rest your head on his shoulder while you adjust to the size of him, needing to take a moment to yourself before attempting to move. After a short adjustment period you begin rolling your hips, grinding against him in a way that was also bringing pleasure to your clit, still swollen and sensitive from your last orgasm.

Harry’s eyes are fixated on the way your breasts bounce in front of him, the way your stomach slightly jiggles each time you crash back down onto him. His lips are caught in between his teeth; you’re hoping he doesn’t break any skin so you don’t have to hear him whine about how badly the bruise hurts him later.

“Ridin’ me like your life depends on it,” Harry mutters. “Fuckin’ love takin’ you like this, angel. So fuckin’ deep.”

You simply hum in agreement, brain far too foggy to form a coherent sentence. Harry notices your movements starting to become smaller, lazier, so he puts his hands on your hips and decides to take over. He’s thrusting up into you like you’ll up and run away from him if he doesn’t give it his all. He cups your face with one hand and gently guides you towards him, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

“Fuck, H,” your eyes are squeezed shut and your wrap your arms around his neck, feeling your second orgasm quickly approaching. “Rub my clit please, almost there.”

Harry’s fingers immediately come down to rub at your slick nub, not faltering his relentless pace in the slightest. “Clench around me again, lovie,” his voice is higher than usual, whiny, and you know your husband is just as close as you are. “Love when you do tha’, jus’ need you to do it one more time.”

You do as he wishes once more, knowing once he cums you’ll be directly behind him. Harry lets out a string of expletives as he releases inside of you, pulling you tightly against his chest as he rides out his orgasm. You continue riding him, not slowly down as you chase your own release next.

“Harry,” you’re in a trance-like state, chanting his name over and over as you bring yourself over the edge. “Harry, fuck!”

“That’s my good girl,” he says quietly, rubbing your back as you rest your head on his shoulder while you catch your breath. You feel him beginning to soften inside of you so you lift yourself off and lay back on the couch, legs still shaking. It’s quiet for a couple of minutes as the two of you reveal in the afterglow of your orgasms, Harry gently running his fingers along your leg.

“Round two in the shower?”

December 25th, 6:42 AM

“Mumma! Santa came and he left lots of toys–– Daddy?”

Harry lets out a dramatic “oof!” as Ally jumps onto him, pulling the covers back. Her eyes are wide and she giggles are Harry pulls her into one of his infamous bear hugs, placing kisses all over his face.

“Mornin’, love bug! What’re you doin’ up so early?”

“It’s Christmas, Daddy! Santa came!” she sits back on her feet, a confused look on her face. “Did Santa bring you on his sleigh last night after me ‘n Olly went to bed?”

“Y’know what? He told me to keep it a secret, but he did,” Allison gasps in response to his news as she processes it, placing a little hand over her mouth. Harry sits up and gets out of bed, scooping her up in the process. “How ‘bout we go make Mum a cuppa before we see what Santa got for you and Olly? Tha’ sound good? Let’s let them sleep for a while longer, hmm?”

As you hear them exit the room you take a second to reflect on how lucky you are to spend another Christmas with you beautiful family before drifting back off into a deep, albeit short, sleep.

[lumosinlove]

12/18/20: Day Five

On the fifth day of Ficmas, Hazel gave to yA, SOLNTSE. IN. RUSSI-A.

“Lupin! We’re going to Dante’s for drinks, what do you think?”

Remus looked back at Marlene and Dorcas, over the auditorium seats. Dorcas held up two thumbs.

“Last hurrah before Christmas vacay?” she said.

Remus slung his bag over his shoulder and laughed. “Yeah, Dante’s sounds good.”

“You can bring your hot Russian, if you want,” Dorcas pressed a kiss to Marlene’s cheek. “It can be a double date.”

Remus looked at his phone. “He’s in a meeting until later, but let’s go. We have dinner plans, though, I’ll tell him to come pick me up there when he gets off the subway.”

They left the lecture hall with the rest of the class, filing quickly out the door at the promise of no work for a good month and the weather forecasting first snow tonight.

It was a short, ten minute walk along West 4th Street. Remus could practically smell the coming snow, and he smiled, thinking about walking with Sirius in it tonight after dinner. He thought of Sirius leaving their apartment that morning in his thick green coat, and wanted to see him in the snow.

“Our very own aperitivo,” Marlene sighed, looking at the small spread of meats and cheeses in front of them and taking a loving sip of her drink. “Oh, yes, it’s Christmas.”

Remus popped an olive in his mouth. “It feels like it, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll feel more like it when you’re in Russia,” Dorcas said. “Covered in snow, and furs, and caviar and six-foot-something of dark-haired beauty—”

“Yes, okay,” Remus laughed, trying to shush her and agree at the same time. “That’s probably true.”

“Don’t know about the caviar,” said a voice from behind Remus. “But want to see Remus in furs.”

Remus turned just in time to see Sirius’ teasing smile, cheeks flushed from the cold.

“Only furs?” Sirius said. “Just for me?”

Remus rolled his eyes but tilted his chin up so Sirius could kiss him gently.

Marlene laughed. “Hi, Sirius, how are you?”

“I’m good,” Sirius’ grin was bright and he straightened, keeping an arm around Remus. “Long day of meetings but, all over now, yes? Here for celebration dinner.”

“Well, we got him all warmed up for you. Took us fifteen minutes to get him to stop talking about the final.”

“He get to say it all over again for me, then,” Sirius said. “Will make him very happy.”

Remus rose, drawing his bag over his shoulder. “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “We’re going now. Thanks for drinks, Marls, that was really kind of you.”

“Merry Christmas!” Marlene sing-songed. “And happy From-Russia-With-Love trip!”

Remus laughed. “See you guys in the new year.”

“Hi,” Sirius whispered to him as they turned, pushing out the doors and back into the frost.

Remus took Sirius’ hand and brought his gloved knuckles to his lips. “Hi. Как дела?”

Sirius nodded. “Da, today was good. Starving, though.”

“Me, too. Do you know when you’re wanting something, and so waiting just takes ages?”

“Everyday, coming home to you.”

Remus wrapped his hand around Sirius’ arm and leaned up for a quick kiss. “Yes, that.”

“Now I’m take to dinner,” Sirius said. “Then it’s just us. No more waiting.” He glanced up. “Not even for snow.”

Remus saw the first flakes fall onto Sirius’ hat before he felt them himself, nipping at his cheeks.

“No more waiting.”

They sat in a cozy booth, sharing plates and a piece of chocolate cake.

“Sweet,” Sirius said, thumb brushing a smudge of frosting from Remus’ lip. “Remushya always likes sweet.”

Remus just smiled over his glass of wine. “I’m really excited, you know. I’m glad we’re going.”

Sirius nodded, sucking air between his teeth. “Yeah. Hope it…goes good, you know. I really don’t know.”

Remus smoothed a hand over his chest. “I’ll be there if it doesn’t. I’ve been there myself.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, curling his fingers around Remus’. “But not think about yet. First, we have two weeks in dacha. Just us.”

Remus leaned into Sirius’ side, cheek against the soft material of his suit. “Love you.”

“Я люблю тебя,” Sirius said back, lips against Remus’ temple. “Now. Tell me all about final.”

~

The elevator dinged open, and the New York snow looked even more amazing from their large windows. Plush, and falling slowly.

“At least it’s coming now and no during our flight,” Remus said as Sirius helped him out of his coat.

“Have to get up early,” Sirius sighed and wrapped his arms around Remus’ waist. “Then I’m take you to dacha bed and we sleep in.”

“Sleep?” Remus turned his head. “Is that what we’ll be doing?”

Sirius’ laugh was soft against his neck. “Sleep, sex. Wake up, have tea and I’m make you blini with jam and cream. Then I’m put you in nothing but furs on Christmas morning, Merry Christmas to me.”

Remus turned in his arms. “You could put me in nothing right now.” He wound his fingers through Sirius’ hair. “We really should be tired for such a long flight…make it go faster.”

Sirius bit his lip. “Right. That’s true.”

Remus pulled Sirius down and kissed him gently. “Yeah?”

Sirius grinned, walking backwards slowly. “Come now.”

~

Remus was exhausted and exhilarated all at once. He was surrounded by unfamiliar signs in an unfamiliar language. But then there was Sirius. He spoke fast, smoothly, got their bags and ordered to-go cups of tea for both of them, sweetened and milky. Sirius was rumpled and adorable in his white beanie and black puff coat. He had a thick scarf around his nose and his tea held in one hand, suitcase in the other.

“Car waiting,” he said in a sleep-scratched voice. “More sleep.”

Remus pulled his own hat lower over his ears. He could feel the cold from beneath the automatic airport doors. He wished it was light out, but the sun was long set.

“Eleven PM, right?” Remus asked, looking at the time settings on his phone.

“Yes,” Sirius said, taking a long sip of his tea. “We take train now. Take one day. Have our own cabin, I set it all up.” Sirius sent him a smile. “It’s one of my favorite things. Sleeper train to country, get away from cities for a bit.”

Remus tugged his suitcase and smiled. “Wish I could kiss you right now.”

“Me too, baby,” Sirius said. “Soon.”

The train station was dim and mostly empty, but they were escorted to one of the rear train cars by a woman in a pristine uniform like they themselves owned the train. She opened the door for them, showing them the different compartments of their car—a kitchenette, a bathroom, two bedrooms, and a sitting area, all complete with crystal light fixtures and broad, clear windows. She left them with a slight bow and the wooden door clicking closed, silencing most of the train’s noise.

He and Sirius grinned at each other for a moment as they set their bags down. The cabin was soft and inviting, the snow outside glinting as it rushed by.

“Look,” Remus said, pointing to blanket on the couch. “Furs.”

Sirius laughed out loud, tossing their coats to the sides and all but tackling Remus onto the couch. Their kisses quickly went from playful to slow, Sirius’ weight rocking against him with the slight movement of the train.

“Miss you,” Sirius whispered, licking into his mouth. “Even for hour car ride.”

Remus pressed his hands under Sirius’ shirt. “Take this off.”

They shed their winter-cool clothes in favor of warm skin on skin.

“Hm,” Sirius said into Remus’ kiss. “Suitcase. I’m get. Pick a bedroom.”

Remus smiled, stretching out on the couch, cock warm and pleasantly turned on against his hip, before swinging himself up and picking the left bedroom. The bed was tightly made with a white quilt. He glanced back at the main room, smiling at their trail of clothes and Sirius’ bare back bent over the suitcase.

Remus untucked the sheets, fluffing the quilt up near the end of the bed before falling against the pillows with a sigh.

“Are you coming?” Remus called, letting his thighs spread.

“I’m come!” Sirius’ voice said, and he appears in the doorway a moment later. He leaned against it, naked and smiling, eyes raking over Remus. “I’m really come, wow.”

Remus laughed as Sirius stroked himself once, twice, and then walked forward to kneel at the end of the bed. Remus watched him look out the window, beautiful and silver in the night and the moon that silhouetted the trees.

“Looks cold out there,” he said. “Warm in here, though.”

Remus held out his arms and Sirius leaned over him, bracketing him in.

“Come here,” Remus laughed, pushing Sirius’ hips down against his with his heels. “We’re in Russia.”

Sirius let out a soft sound as their cocks brushed together. “You’re my home now, Remushya. Russia is special place but…it’s you.”

Remus pressed closer to him, closing his eyes at the feeling of Sirius’ skin on his. They kissed with no hurry, Sirius’ fingers heavy, and then light, and then heavy again, making him pant and push back against his touch. The train seemed to cradle them both, even as Sirius cradled Remus. Sirius’ first press inside Remus was swayed by the rocking of the train, making Remus’ eyes squeeze shut as he clutched to Sirius’ back.

“Remushya,” Sirius’ voice came out strained and breathless, mouth pressed to Remus’ neck. “Yes, yes, baby…”

Remus ran his hands down Sirius’ sides to his ass, feeling the muscles that indented at his hips every time he fucked forward.

“Can we,” Remus curled a hand around the back of Sirius’ neck and scraped his teeth against his jaw. “Harder?”

Remus felt cooped up and stiff from the plane. He wanted—he needed it all out somehow, the nerves about meeting Sirius’ family, the stress and elation of the last semester, his overwhelming love for Sirius that never seemed to yield. He needed it to be explosive, he needed it pressed into his skin.

“I’m do,” Sirius said with a smile. “But have to stay quiet. Can you? Don’t know if you can.”

Remus laughed, biting his lip against the next groan that threatened as Sirius stroked just right inside of him. He nodded. “Please.”

Sirius got his knees under him, his arms under Remus’ back to hold him close. It gave him enough leverage that, the next time he snapped his hips forward, the effect felt doubled. Remus’ head fell back, mouth open.

“Shh,” Sirius said with a soft kiss, and then snapped his hips forward again. He didn’t pick up the pace, but ground in hard each time their hips met.

“Ah,” Remus smothered the sound against Sirius’ neck, breathing harshly. Sirius barely gave him time to catch his breath before he did it again. The soft sheets slipped beneath Remus’ back, but Sirius didn’t let him go.

“So good, Remus,” Sirius panted. “Is good?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Remus chanted breathlessly. His lips dragged along Sirius’ neck, kissing and relishing. “You’re so—ah—“

“Shh,” Sirius’ laugh ended in a soft moan of his own, and Remus pressed a hand over his own mouth, laughing, too.

“No, no, like to see,” Sirius sat back on his heels, chest broad and tanned in the warm light of the cabin. Remus watched his brows knit as he looked down at where his cock dipped in and out of Remus’ body. “Fuck, so much to see.” He smiled at Remus, bending to kiss his chest before sitting back again and pressing into him slowly. “We get home, I’m make you say everything. No one but us.”

Remus watched as Sirius took hold of his hips and fucked forward again, and again, faster than before. Remus whined softly, his cock red and drooling against his stomach now. Heat spread over his chest, from where Sirius was warm inside of him, heavy and aching.

“Sirius,” Remus said, and Sirius fell forward again, Remus’ heels urging him closer. He tangled his fingers into Sirius’ dark hair, kissing him. Remus’ breath caught, his head falling back as his orgasm built, as Sirius’ cock brushed his prostate over again. He felt swollen against his stomach, balls drawn up. “I’m—”

Sirius jerked, a sound ripping out of his mouth as Remus clenched around him, coming between them without a hand.

“Baby,” Sirius groaned. “Baby…” he fucked Remus through it, more slowly now, dragging and careful as Remus’ cock spat out thick ropes of come. A moment later, Remus felt Sirius’ own heat, heard it in the way Sirius’ breathing stopped and the started again, in the way he pressed hard into Remus to ride it out.

Remus still remembered how this part used to feel. The obligation. The preparing his tired body to get up, get dressed, and walk home.

But the memory was faint now. Now, he was being kissed all over his chest and neck, his eyes closed as he laughed tiredly, hand rubbing the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Better every time,” Sirius’ low voice said, kissing along his jaw. “How you do that?”

“Me? You.”

Remus opened his eyes to see Sirius looking down at him. His hair was a mess from the traveling and the sex, he had tired circles under his eyes and chapped lips, and Remus had never seen anything better, anything brighter.

They couldn’t share the tiny cabin shower, but they managed the bed, squeezed in tight and warm.

Remus fell asleep with Sirius’ front pressed all along his back, and the world just beginning to lighten outside, above the moving landscape of Russia.

When Remus woke again a few hours later, it was to Sirius’ voice in the sitting area, speaking soft Russian. Remus waited until he heard the cabin door close, and then slipped his feet into the slippers that were waiting at the foot of the bed, and pulled one of Sirius’ sweatshirts on before opening the bedroom door.

Sirius was removing lids from dishes on a breakfast tray, set out on the table by one of the large windows. The world was a blissful white forest outside, the sun a watery dot in the sky.

“Wow,” Remus said, looking out. “We’re in Narnia.”

“Narnia?” Sirius laughed. “Oh, right. Cupboard movie. Yes, we meet spy goat soon.”

Remus laughed as he sat, tilting his chin up towards Sirius. “Доброе утро.”

Sirius set the tea he had been pouring down and took Remus’ face between his hands.

“Good morning, Remushya,” he whispered, and kissed him softly.

They pulled into a tiny station a few hours later, and, as Sirius drove a rental car through winding snowy streets, they only met a few small towns. The house they pulled up to, however, if not large, was tall and ornate. It was all white, blending in with the snow, and had carved shutters and trimming.

“It’s like a gingerbread house,” Remus said as they got out, pulling his coat closer against the cold. “Baby, it’s beautiful.”

Sirius beamed and wrapped an arm around Remus, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Just us,” he said when they reached the door, and leaned down for a kiss while turning the key in the lock.

The entrance hall was a blast of warm air and Remus opened his mouth to voice his relief when—

“Sivushka?”

The voice made both of them jump.

There was a boy with dark hair and familiar eyes standing there. Regulus, Remus recognized from photos. Sirius’ brother.

“Regulus?” Sirius said, and in Russian, “What are you doing here?”

Regulus had only opened his mouth to respond when there was another voice from down the hall, and Remus was able to translate those words.

“Reg?” it said. “Who is it?”

A blond boy appeared, wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He had the palest blue eyes Remus had ever seen.

“My brother,” Regulus said, still in Russian. “And—someone.”

“What are you doing here?” Sirius asked again. He didn’t sound demanding, but almost—whiny. Remus watched a smile pull at Regulus’ mouth.

After that, all Remus caught was family and home. He guessed Regulus was saying that he had just as much right to be there as Sirius did.

“Sirius?” Remus said hesitantly.

“English?” Regulus said incredulously, looking at him.

“This is Remus,” Sirius said, and then hissed a curse back. He looked at Remus again. “So sorry, I…Remus, not know they be here.”

“It’s okay,” Remus shook his head. “It’s completely fine. Do they…”

“No, can’t really understand us. Well, Regulus can’t but…don’t know blond man.” Sirius turned, asking. “Dima.”

“His…” Remus prompted.

Sirius’ expression went surprised, and he looked again. The brothers stared each other down. Remus sent Dima an awkward wave. Dima waved back.

Sirius said something in Russian and Regulus raised an eyebrow, shaking his head.

Sirius looked back at Remus. “Friends. Fishing and hunting.”

Remus nodded. “Oh.”

“I really surprise, I…” Sirius huffed out a laugh, but his face went firm again when he looked back at Regulus.

Remus looked around Sirius at the two of them and, in Russian, said, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Remus.”

Regulus and Dima looked at each other, then laughed.

“What are you speaking?”

Remus smiled a little, face flushing. “I know I don’t speak well.”

“Do you have to be so rude?” Sirius sighed, and took their bags. “Did you take the good rooms?”

Regulus shrugged. “Of course, it is just the two of us. Why wouldn’t we?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and turned to Remus. “Be right back. Is okay?”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Sirius nodded and started trudging up the stairs with the suitcases.

“You may be big in America, but you’re just my brother, here!” Regulus called after him, then looked at Remus, standing alone and shrugging out of his coat.

“English?” Regulus said, in English this time. Remus nodded.

Regulus shook his head, pointing to himself. “Sorry. Dima—”

“I have better,” Dima said. “You are friend?”

“Oh,” Remus stuttered. “Um—”

“Boyfriend,” Regulus said in Russian, and Remus stared at him, trying to gage his reaction.

Regulus waved him off. “He thinks I don’t know.”

“But…you do?” Remus said.

“Yes.”

“You tell him?” Remus asked.

“He will tell me, now,” Regulus turned and walked down the hall.

“Please,” Dima said, and gestured for Remus to follow him.

Regulus looked uncannily like Sirius although, where Sirius was rounded out with muscle and his shoulders broad, Regulus was leaner, his features sharper.

“We…have lunch?” Dima said. “Yes? For you and Sirius?”

“Yes, please,” Remus smiled at him, then, in Russian, “I help?”

Sirius came back down to Remus chopping a tomato while Regulus fried something that he had called Kotlety in a pan. It looked like meatballs, only breaded and more fragrant.

Sirius eyed it, and Remus recognized the word uncle from Regulus. Regulus nodded.

“He say it is uncle’s recipe,” Dima supplied, and Sirius looked at him.

“Do you speak English?” he said.

Dima shrugged. “Some. I try but…not many times I need.”

Sirius nodded. “I understand. It is hard language.”

Regulus forked the steaming Kotlety onto four plates and Dima topped each with sour cream and onions. Regulus took the tomato Remus had been chopping and placed it on thick slices of brown bread, along with some ham.

“How long are you here, Sivushka?” Regulus asked when they were all sitting at the cozy kitchen table. Snow was falling in fat flakes outside, and Remus took a moment to look out at the land. It looked vast, with a frozen lake in the distance.

I’m here for Christmas and New Year’s,” Sirius replied around his food. “You know that.”

Reuglus said something and Sirius leaned in to translate. “I told my parents I come in two weeks. Wanted to be here with you before.”

Regulus’ next words had Sirius pale, and Remus guessed they had something to do with their relationship because, after a moment, Sirius took Remus’ hand tightly in his own.

“Da,” he said simply.

The table went silent. Remus watched Sirius look at his brother. His gaze was steely, the way it got while he was working, or on the phone, sometimes. But Remus knew how much hope and fear lay just beneath.

“Okay,” Regulus said, and went back to his food.

Remus raised a shoulder when Sirius looked at him, expression surprised. “He said he already knew…”

“How?” Sirius said in English, and then again in Russian.

Regulus just scooped his left over sour cream with the last of his bread and leaned back in his chair.

“Are you going to—” was all Remus understood from what he said next.

“I can’t,” Sirius sighed. “Even if I want to. It’s your house, too.”

Remus gathered Regulus was asking if Sirius was going to make them leave.

Regulus just shrugged, and when Sirius rolled his eyes again, Remus fought back a laugh. Sirius with his brother was different.

“Okay,” Sirius said in English—maybe just to annoy Regulus. “We’re jet lagged, we’re going to nap. Remushya, come, I show you house.”

Regulus’ eyebrows raised at the nickname.

“Thank you about lunch,” Remus stuttered out, and followed Sirius out of the room.

The bedroom Sirius led them to was warm, too, and Remus was full and feeling the full effect of the time difference. He groaned and fell down onto the bed on his back.

“Well, that was surprising,” he laughed.

Sirius fell down beside him. “Very.”

“Hey,” Remus turned onto his side, hand on Sirius’ chest. “At least he took it well. He seemed okay.”

“Regulus is not my mother,” Sirius sighed. “Or my father. I love them, I do…and I miss them, but…have see so many new things since leaving home. I’m worry—worry they don’t understand. They’re harsh people. I’m just—not really know.”

Sirius sighed again and pulled Remus onto his chest. “We sleep now. So tired. Maybe they are gone when we wake up, just bad dream.”

Remus laughed. “Maybe.”

~

Remus woke up groggily to Sirius closing the bedroom door as gently as he could. He winced when he turned to meet Remus’ tired eyes.

“Sorry, baby,” then, he rolled his. “Not just bad dream. Still here.”

Remus snorted, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost dinner time. Slept for maybe four hours. Should get up now.”

Remus sat up slowly. He felt like he had sunk half way through the bed to the floor. Sirius laughed softly at the sight, coming to sit on the edge of the bed and stroke a palm over Remus’ sleep-heated cheek.

“I’m bring you orange juice, okay? It help with sleepy.”

Remus hummed, fingers closing around Sirius’ wrist. “Just a little longer. Come here.”

“We get so off schedule,” Sirius warned.

“We have nowhere to be,” Remus smiled as Sirius swayed forward with the words. He kissed his lips, easing him down over him until he could wrap his arms around his waist. “Come here, love.”

Sirius laughed softly, but settled down.

Dinner was delicious and not as awkward as lunch. The brothers seemed to be getting along better, and they made Remus feel alright about needing a translation.

Things got more serious after dinner. They were drinking tea spiked with strong liquor, and Remus felt warm all over, tucked into Sirius’ side. Dima and Regulus were stretched out on the floor in front of the fire, eating some sort of caramel candy.

“When was the last time you talked to mother?” Remus made out Regulus saying.

He felt Sirius stiffen beside him. “Um. Last week. Confirming plans.”

Regulus eyed him carefully, pushing himself up from resting on his elbows to resting back on his palms.

“This is what will happen, okay?” Regulus said, elbows moving to rest on his knees. His dark hair was framed by the firelight. “I’m telling you right now.”

“Okay…” Sirius began.

“They’re not going to be okay in the beginning,” Regulus said. “But I can see you think you are going to be in danger. That isn’t true.”

Sirius sighed. “I don’t think danger, I just think…” Sirius looked down. “I will no longer be…you know, the successful child. I’ll be something else.”

Regulus scoffed. “You’re the successful child because I am the unsuccessful child, not because of your love life.” Regulus shook his head. “Sirius, they love you. This is true, at least.”

“But what if not after?” Sirius said, then pressed his lips together. He wrapped his arm around Remus more tightly. “After they know.”

“Then…” Regulus began. “Then I convince them.”

Sirius looked up. “You would?”

Remus looked at Sirius, trying to gage his reaction—his real reaction.

Regulus tilted his head from side to side. “Okay, fine. Then I try to convince them.”

“You—” Remus began, trying to find the words. “Maybe, yes, you help. Good to have brother. Other people.”

“I brought Remus because…” Sirius looked at Remus, eyes searching and worried. “I wanted them to meet him before they decide how they…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Regulus said. “Remus just said. I’m your brother.”

Sirius let out a breath, rubbing his eyes and then staring at the fire. “I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be scared of me,” Regulus said.

“How was I suppose to know that?” Sirius snapped. “We don’t speak.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Sirius opened his mouth, paused, and then closed it again. Remus felt him sag a little against his side and held him tighter.

Regulus sighed. He looked at Dima, and Remus watched him raised a shoulder. Then, he finished off his glass and looked back at Sirius.

“We’re leaving in the morning,” he said, and the rest was lost on Remus, but he didn’t look upset. “It’s fine, it’s fine, we will go back to be, what?”

He said a word in Russian and then Dima said, “spoiled.”

“Spoiled by mama’s cooking.”

“And we see you at Christmas,” Dima said in English.

“Reg…” Sirius said.

“Really, it’s okay,” Regulus nodded and stood. “You deserve good things, Sirius. And you, Remus. And…I want you to have good memories now…even if the later ones aren’t. Know it’s okay with me.” Then, he looked at Remus. “Our family will like you.”

“I hope so,” Remus replied and Regulus laughed.

“You really do have a horrible accent.”

Remus laughed, too. “I know.”

He looked at Sirius, and was glad to see the faintest of smiles there on his face.

The next morning, they watched Regulus and Dima pull out and down the road from the living room window, and then Remus smiled, feeling arms around his waist. He could smell the fresh blinis waiting on the counter for them.

“I think he’s right,” Remus said, imagining the two of them driving down that same road, towards Sirius’ family home. “I think it will be okay.”

“I hope. But now, just us,” Sirius said with a gentle kiss to his neck.

Remus leaned against him. “Just us.”

[muffindaddystyles]

I hope you’re doing well and staying safe💛

Would you mind writing something Harry x reader where the reader has asthma and in the middle of the night she has a severe asthma attack in the kitchen and Harry wakes up to the sound of glass breaking, please and thank you?

You can make it vamp!harry if you want!

Hi doveeess hope you're doing well too 💛💛

Warning: Disease of asthma, fainting and passing out.

//

Opposite attracts, right? Well the saying was proved to it's fulfilment with Harry's and Y/N's relationship. If he got broody shoulders and tiny waist, Y/N's his bean with hands 10x daintier than his's. If he's the diffident with certain people cause he has acknowledged this world way before than her, then she's the one to be a tweety with everyone. He could be amatory with his every action and she's the shy one; he's a romantic creature.

If he's the vampire, she's a tiny human. How bizzare.

If he got the cold heart because the blood doesn't rush inside him, then she got a warm heart but, . . . . . it's weak doesn't pump enough blood to her lungs.

In her words it's healthy and keeping her alive but for him it's a death clock. Scares him at the mere thought of it betraying her and that's the reason he's super conscious about her each step.

Doesn't let her take stairs. Takes care they don't go to rowdy places. If they get struck in crowds he always manages to make a way out. He always makes sure she doesn't get a cold and layers her into puffy jackets — because when she gets sick they've to be in the hospital for three days at-least.

He vehemently despises the view of her getting nabolized while he sits beside her, stroking her knuckles kissing her temple and whispering to her how strong she's.

He's in love with her braveness 'cos he's just too weak — so so weak in knees for her.

He made a promise to himself that he'd never let anything happen to her and sometimes she scolds him for restricting her from things she loves to enjoy. Like rollercoasters. Teases him that it's the fact it makes his tummy all jumpy but he knows when she gets excited to a peak she nearly gives out in his arms.

She wanna live life to fullest.

Wanna love him to fullest.

They went for a picnic. Even though the sky was too murky and cloudy she insisted, he gave in. That's the only weather they could be out together.

They picked olives together. She'd dot them at him and he'd chase her. She loves to get chased!

"I've a lil bunny, whose ears are soft as silk, eyes round as saucers and m'bunny loves to get chased but she only twitches her nose. I can tell she's happy as twitchey-twitch she goes." He sing-song his one of the favourite poem for her with a grin pretending to be afooled by her hiding skills and startles her by pulling her to himself from behind the tree. She squeals with all her might thrashing playfully in his grasp.

They had the most fun Y/N thinks but at the moment under blankets with Harry's arm looped round her waist and face smushed in the crook of her neck, she's feeling suffocated. Her ribs cackles in her flesh, She caught a nasty cold.

Sweaty. Her toes curling as she felt her heart doing a dopey-doop.

Quietly she slids from under his hold tip-toeing downstairs and till then her lips went blue, her throat scratchy and lungs feeling clogged. Her chest heaves and perspiration beads at her forehead reaching for the faucet, trying to multi-task with her shivering hands.

Harry wakes up anxiously when he doesn't feel the fuzz of his bunny and the slow thump of her heartbeat against his ear that croons him to slight unconscious even though vampires couldn't sleep (when they do they're either teleporting to their pasts or their fantasies).

Upon hearing her heartbeat drop to zilch and a glass shattering with a loud echo he dashes down the stairs.

"Y/N!!" His voice dripping with panic as his eyes fall over his bunny hunched on her knees fisting the thick warm sweatshirt she's wearing where her heart is, her knuckles out of blood and face splashed with purple as she wheezes out for help, "Ha — " Her words strikes in her airpipes painfully making her fall but it never comes instead she lays like a petal into his arms eyes nearly rolling.

"Baby stay calm, yeh?" His voice trembles as he gets her out of the heated clothing and sits her upright as instructed by her doctor. He rubs her back tilting his chin to inhale a large breath while gazing her square in eyes with a firm grab at her chin — a gesture to make her do the same, "Breath . . . 's okay baby love 'm here." She does but fails and he makes her do it many times squeezing her hand.

"Wh -- where goin — " She manages to spurt out when he quickly stood up, "no where promise jus' bringin' ye'r inhaler be a mo'." He tumbles upstairs and in their room rummaging through the drawers, his frustration bubbles and spills through the pot when he couldn't spot it. He hits the leg of night stand cursing loudly.

"Fuck you." His pink chubby lip wobbles as he wipes his tears away with the sleeve of his pyjamas sighing out of relief when he finally found it.

Doesn't even take a second before helping her inhale it and massages the knots over spine with sweet nothings in her ear.

"Feeling okay? Should I call — " She cuts his concerned inquiry with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder nodding, "good . . good." He holds back his tears for her. Tremulous to bring her closer to him palming up and down her thighs to soothe her down.

Without a word she turns around wounding her forearms around the nape of his neck taking a pacifying breather of his heavenly scent and it for the very first time brings fat sad tears in her eyes, silent ones not to worry him.

"'M sorry for always making you panicky, it has become s' normal 'cos I don't listen to you." His eyes bolt shut and he gives out a pathetic gruffly sob tightening his arms around her waist. She apologises every time it happens to her and it breaks Harry's heart into tiny million pieces.

He still remembers their first date. He won a floffy, snowy stuffie bunny for her and she was such a clapping mess bringing him down swiftly to smother him in kisses but the next moment passed out against his chest. He felt lost at that time and he still does. With her eyes shut to the world he always feels this way.

They also have polaroids of their first date in the hospital with her in a white gown and a beeping machine in the background, she had the largest grins and he had the saddest pout.

"Look at meh buns, ye don't 'ave to, yeah?" He cups her cheeks gazing into her soul deeply, wish he could read what goes in her mind, "I love ye' s'much. I love y'in yer sickness 'n in yer heartiest moment, I love you even when we fight and when ye're not your best self . . . 'S not gonna change, nothin' would change me 'n you baby." She wipes his tears with delicate touch and even though she's unable to speak her love for him shines in the glossiness of her eyes.

"Wanna take some fresh air?" He asks. firmly sliding his arms under her knees and other under her shoulders to carry her when she nods, "you feel cold." She whispers and he quickly fetches her a snuggly blanket muttering guilty-ly.

"Sorry." She giggles giving him an eskimo kiss and pinches his cheek.

"You're the only vampire i love." He kisses her neck softly to convey his thanks and melts into her arms when she yawns, "I love you."

"I love you too, bunny."

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Missed Connection - Shinsou Hitoshi

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Rating: NSFW 18+ Warnings: Unprotected sex, blowjobs, dirty talk, poking fun at fakes who shop at UO and wear band t-shirts for bands they don’t listen to, terrible poetry, Kaminari is a weirdo. Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/F!Reader Words: 4,554 AN: This is for the bnharem server collab, the theme is pen pals! We were able to write basically anything as long as there was some kind of communication/writing/texting etc! This is the first time I’ve written for Shinsou and I head cannon him as a fucking closet goth so don’t at me. Collab Masterlist (Please go check out everyone else’s contributions!) My Masterlist Buy me a Ko-fi -- When his phone started ringing, Shinsou was tempted to throw it halfway across the room. Whoever thought it was okay to call him at - he turned to squint at the clock on his bedside table - 10 in the morning on his day off, better have a good excuse. He frowned at the screen once he’d found his phone, and sighed.

“The world better be on fire, Kaminari.” His palm rubbed over his face as he pressed the phone to his ear, his eyes closing again.

The blonde chuckled, full of energy as usual. “Aw, come on ‘Toshi! It’s not that early.”

A million ways he could kill his friend and make it look like an accident flashed through his mind. “You know I like to sleep late on my days off.” He left it at that, no further explanation needed. Kaminari knew he stayed up impossibly late on his off days, crawling under the covers only when the sun started to rise.

“You want to hear this, I promise. I wouldn’t call this early unless it was important.” Shinsou listened to the sound of a keyboard clicking through the phone, waiting impatiently for his friend to continue. 

“So, you know how I sometimes like to fuck around on the internet?” This was a rhetorical question. Of course he did. “Well, occasionally I like to browse through Craigslist, and this morning I was in the missed connections section, and I found something interesting.”

“Why do you look through missed connections?” He didn’t really care, he just thought it was kind of...weird. But, then again, this was Denki, so he shouldn’t have been surprised.

Kaminari huffed. “Dude, sometimes it’s so sad to read how they saw someone and thought there was a connection. It makes me wonder if they ever find each other.” He was quiet for a moment like he was deep in thought. “But then sometimes, it’s like ‘You farted in the produce section and I’d still date you, let’s go out’ and it kind of loses the romantic appeal.”

“You’re a sap. Also, gross.” He found himself drifting off, bored with the conversation already. “Do you have a point?”

“God, you’re impatient! Listen, I was scrolling through the ads and I found this one, I think you should hear it.” Clearing his throat, he began to read. 

“You were the sleepy purple-haired man in the cat cafe on Main, I was hiding behind an orange tabby by the window. I was staring, but I wasn’t trying to be creepy. You just looked kind of lost, and the black and white short hair on your lap seemed to have all your attention. Oh, I think his name is Socks. Isn’t that unoriginal? Anyway, I’ve seen you there a few times and I want to know more about you. If you see this, please respond.”

Shinsou sat up in his bed, ignoring the sharp pain of his muscles protesting at the sudden movement. “What the fuck?”

“This is about you, isn’t it?” Denki’s excitement was clear. “You’re the only sleepy guy with purple hair I know who frequents that cat cafe on Main Street.”

“How long ago was that posted?” Hitoshi felt strange, restless energy flowing through him. Someone had noticed him and decided that he was interesting enough to want to get to know? He wasn’t anything special, and he kept to himself mostly. What did this even mean?

“Last night! When did you go to the cafe?” He didn’t even wait for a response. “I’m forwarding this post to you, and you better send them an email! It’s been too long since you’ve dated someone, ‘Toshi, and I’m concerned.”

Unfortunately feeling more awake than he wanted to be, Shinsou shifted until his feet were on the floor. “Yesterday afternoon. And it hasn’t been that long.”

“It’s been like a year, dude.” Kaminari sighed. “Okay, I sent it. Please write back to them. Let me live vicariously through you in this weird turn of events.”

Shinsou sighed and said goodbye, ending the call and staring off into space for a minute. He needed coffee before he could even think about reading it for himself and then maybe responding.

--

Uh, hello.

 I can’t help but feel like this was about me? I’m not even really sure what to say. This feels weird. You could have come over and said hi, maybe. I don’t bite. I might have stared at you and made things awkward but I feel like it would have been a surefire way to talk to me instead of posting this on craigslist of all places and expecting me to see it. 

You’re lucky I have a friend who likes to scour the dark recesses of the internet for entertainment purposes and happened upon this post.

-Shinsou

--

How do I know this is really the person I’m talking about? What were you wearing when you went to the cafe? That’s like the only way I can be sure you are who you say you are. 

The only reason I didn’t come over and talk to you was that I had Oliver on my lap and he is a grump and didn’t want me to get up until he was good and ready. (That’s the orange tabby’s name, by the way.) By the time I was able to coax his fat ass off of me you had gone. 

Honestly, I’d let those cats climb all over me like their own personal cat tree all day long and not complain about it, but I digress. 

I didn’t expect you to find this or reply, it was kind of my way of convincing myself that I’d given it a shot, even though I really hadn’t done much.

-Y/N

--

I was wearing the following:

A Joy Division t-shirt depicting the cover of Unknown Pleasures, which is arguably the most cliche t-shirt I own. It’s become one of those shirts that people wear who have no idea who Joy Division is, they just like it for the aesthetic. (I’ll have you know I happen to know who they are and like their music very much.) This shirt was more than likely covered in cat hair.

Black jeans, which were probably covered in cat hair as well.

Black boots, a staple of mine.

I am a closet goth. I don’t know what else to say. I won’t deny it. I’ve learned to embrace who I am. I happen to know that Oliver is a grumpy shit, so I am not surprised he kept you pinned down for so long. That cat has been known to knock people over and purr loudly while “making biscuits” on their chests for hours at a time. I’m glad to know that you survived his assault.

So what are you going to tell me about yourself now? I have confessed to you about my goth status, so I demand something in return.

-Shinsou

--

Yeah, it was you.

I was hoping that you actually liked Joy Division and you weren’t one of those Urban Outfitters aesthetic people. I can now rest easy. I like them too, but I really like New Order more? I hope this isn’t the end of our budding friendship.

I will not say that I am a goth, though I have goth-like tendencies? Or I just appreciate the music. Whatever. I don’t have, like, a pet bat or anything. I own a pair of Doc’s, though.

I have been on the receiving end of one of Oliver’s attacks before, so you don’t have to tell me about them. I have experienced his pushy demeanor on more than one occasion.

So, something about me? I don’t know. I spend a lot of time in that cafe because I love cats, but that’s kind of a given, isn’t it? I usually bring my laptop and make an attempt to work on my homework, but it’s usually futile. I’d rather pet the cats. 

Oh, I guess that counts as something right? I go to college. I’m an English major and taking a fuck ton of creative writing courses. What about you?

-Y/N

--

An English major? That sounds like fun. I think if I had a need to go to college I’d have liked to take something like that. I have a friend who writes ultra depressing Gothic poetry, that would be right up his ally as well.

I’m a pro hero, hence why I didn’t need college. Saving people is something I’ve always wanted to do, especially since I was always bullied about my quirk as a kid. It kind of made me more determined, I always wanted to prove those assholes wrong, you know? So, here I am.

I’m glad to know we can wear matching Doc’s together, and that you don’t keep a bat as a pet. As cute as their faces are, they’re not very easily domesticated. 

New Order is fine. The real question is, The Smiths or The Cure? Your answer to this question will be what determines the longevity of our friendship.

-Shinsou

--

This is the worst question you could ever ask me. How could you do this? I could never choose between them. Both? The answer is both.

I hope your next email will not be your last.

Bats are cute but they always seem to dive bomb my head when they’re around. Not that I go places with bats often, but I used to go camping as a kid and they always did that. It was not a good time.

I think it’s amazing that you’re a pro hero! You’re really out here, fighting the bad guys and saving people and then coming into the cat cafe and petting kittens and drinking coffee like a normal person. I think it’s admirable how hard you worked to achieve your dream. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m proud of you. Why were you bullied for your quirk? You don’t have to answer that if it makes you uncomfortable.

I wish I could write ultra depressy Gothic poetry. Here let me try:

The night is black like my soul Clove cigarettes burn slowly My life is Meaningless

How was that? Do I get a gold star? Or a black skull? Which is appropriate?

-Y/N

--

I’m printing that and sending it to Tokoyami. Thank you for making my entire existence with that poem. I’m breaking out the red wax candles and putting on “How Soon Is Now?” right now.

You get a star, but it’s a pentagram. We have to keep with the theme.

My quirk has to do with mind control, so I was always told I was meant to be a villain. You can imagine what that could do to a kid’s psyche, being told by peers and adults alike that you weren’t hero material, when that’s all you wanted. It’s okay though, I did what I wanted and they can eat my ass.

Sorry if that was too raunchy, but it’s how I feel.

If my earlier comment wasn’t proof enough, I prefer The Smiths, but I cannot deny the impact of Disintegration. Lullaby is a really great song.

That being said, this will not be my last email, so you can breathe easy. 

On a semi serious note, I really enjoy talking with you. We have a similar sense of humor, and you like cats which makes you automatically better than most people. Would you like to get coffee sometime? I know a nice place that’s quiet and filled with fluffy kittens...

-Shinsou

—

I’m glad I haven’t lost your friendship due to my opinion. I know how important that feud can be to some people. People get very passionate about it. Kind of like with Blur versus Oasis, or Brand New versus Taking Back Sunday. I hate that these are the only examples I can think of. 

It wasn’t too raunchy. Those people can most definitely eat your ass. I’m glad you have decided to use your powers for good. You’ll have to explain to me how your quirk works sometime. 

I shall treasure my shiny pentagram sticker with my entire heart.

Isn’t Tokoyami the Jet Black Hero: Tsukuyomi? He looks like the type to write Gothic poetry. I am not even mildly surprised. 

Even though the way we met was unconventional, I’d like to think I’d have gotten up the courage to speak to you the next time I saw you in the cafe. Somehow this is better, though. It makes for an interesting story, you know?

I’d love to get coffee. I think I know the place you’re talking about. Let me know when.

-Y/N

—

Shinsou was nervous. It was stupid really. He’d been exchanging emails back and forth with you for a few days, and even though you’d barely revealed much about each other, the easy banter through your messages was comforting. He felt like the two of you would be compatible. He just hoped that he was able to keep the conversation going in real life. 

When he entered the cafe, he ordered his usual and picked his normal table towards the back. Socks, his favorite black and white companion, was at his side almost immediately. He let his hand drift down to scratch behind her ears, his gaze fixed on the door as he waited for you to arrive. 

Out of habit he was a little early, but he figured it would be easier this way. He had no idea what you looked like, but you knew him, so he knew you’d come over when you got there, and it would make things less awkward. 

A few minutes later he saw the door open, and he immediately knew it was you. Black Doc’s and thigh high stockings, a black skirt and an oversized deep red sweater adorned your body, a leather jacket over your shoulders and your hair tucked under a black beanie, cheeks pink from the chill of the autumn weather outside. You were pretty, and he felt his nerves increase tenfold when your eyes met his, a smile gracing your face. 

He watched as you ordered a drink at the counter, the paper cup clutched in your hands as you made your way to his table. He stood up when you approached, letting himself appreciate you up close. “Y/N?”

“Hi, Shinsou.” You were so much shorter than he was, and he found himself having to gaze down at you when he was standing at his full height. 

“It’s nice to put a face to all those emails.” The way you blushed under his attention made his heart flip. “Please, sit.”

You nodded, sliding into the seat across from him. He sat back down, his hands moving to grip his coffee cup. 

“This is kind of weird, isn’t it?” You looked down when Oliver made his way over, rubbing himself against your boot. “I almost feel like I don’t know what to say.”

“I know what you mean. We could just sit here and email each other, if that would make you feel better.” Your laugh was like music to his ears. “I’d rather hear your voice though.”

Your face was red when you looked back up at him. “I have to agree.” You leaned your elbow on the table, your cheek cradled in your palm. “Tell me more about yourself, Shinsou.”

“It’s Hitoshi. You can call me Hitoshi.”

—

If anyone would have told him that the night would end this way, he’d have said they were insane, and should probably get themselves checked into the nearest institution. 

But here he was, his face pressed into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, lips ghosting over soft skin, his calloused palms sliding underneath your sweater. You were purring, your head thrown back and your fists clenched in his t-shirt, your back pressed against the wall in the hallway that led to his bedroom. 

“Fuck, ‘Toshi.” You mumbled, pressing yourself closer to him. “Bed?”

You didn’t have to ask twice, his hands sliding down to lift you up by the backs of your thighs, his cock hard and straining in his jeans as you rutted against him. He turned himself and began walking toward his room blindly, his eyes still shut as he sucked a mark into your neck. 

He pulled back so he could peer over your shoulder and maneuver your bodies through the doorway without bumping into anything, laying you back on the bed. 

The events of the night were a blur, your coffee date turned into him taking you out for ramen at the restaurant down the street, and then he asked you back to his apartment to show you his record collection. 

It was mostly a ruse though. You’d been flirting back and forth, the both of you getting bolder as the night went on. He was only half surprised when you’d entered his apartment, barely removing shoes and coats and hats before you spun around on him, pressing him against the door and kissing him like your life depended on it.

He rested on his forearms, poised above you, looking over your flushed face and kiss bruised lips. Your legs wrapped around his waist and pulled his hips closer, making him groan. “Impatient?”

Your hands moved to cup his face, pulling him down toward you. “Very.” 

He wasn’t expecting your strength, caught off guard when your lips crashed into his, your body pushing him over until he was on his back and you were straddling him, knees on either side of his hips. You ground down against him, moaning when his hips snapped up reflexively. He was happy to give you control for a while, especially when you sat up and grabbed the bottom of your sweater and pulled it over your head. The view was spectacular.

He let his hands wander, tracing along the lines of your thigh highs from under your skirt, and up to the lace at your hips. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the devilish glint in your eye was not lost on his as you shifted down his body, fingers swiftly working to unclasp his belt and undo the button on his jeans. 

You slid off of him, and he lifted his hips to aid you in pulling his pants down his legs, his boxers following. His cock was achingly hard, the tip angry and red as it sprung free from it’s confines, nearly slapping his stomach. You eyed it greedily, and he was lost for words when you surged forward, delicate fingers wrapping around his length and stroking him, your tongue peeking out to taste him.

Amethyst eyes rolled back when you took the tip in your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, a low moan sounding from the back of your throat. The warmth and wetness that surrounded his cock when you closed your eyes and bobbed forward had him breathless, his hand threading through your hair, and his palm resting on the back of your head. He kept himself steady, fighting back the urge to buck his hips and push you down further on his length. 

Shinsou bit down on his lower lip, his stomach muscles tensing as he tried to keep it together. Kaminari had been right, it had been a while since he’d been with someone, and he wanted this night to last as long as possible. The sweet and innocent look in your eyes as you looked up at him through your lashes, your mouth enveloping him all the way to base, was nearly too much for him to handle, his hand tugging at your hair gently to pull you off of him. “I’m not going to last if you keep that up, kitten.”

You visibly shivered at the pet name and he grinned, loving the feeling of being able to invoke that reaction from you. He scooted forward when you sat back on your knees between his spread legs, his arms circling your torso as he worked at the clasp on your bra, pulling the straps down your arms when he unclipped it. Strong hands gripped your waist and moved you to the side as he stood up, reaching under your skirt to tug your panties down your legs.

He took a moment to consider what he’d do next. He wanted to taste you, it was only right for him to return the favor, and he was almost certain you would taste as sweet as you looked. Another part of him wanted to hike up your legs around his waist and slam inside of you, desperate to hear you moan his name as he pounded you into the mattress. As he contemplated what to do, reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, and then let his hands wander up to the apex of your thighs, digits sliding through your folds. You gasped, falling back onto your elbows, back arching as he toyed with your clit, letting his long fingers slip inside your heat. “So wet. Just for me?” Eyebrows raised, he teased you.

“Fuck, Hitoshi, please.” Breathless and panting, you gazed up at him, biting your lip.

“Please what? Tell me what you want.” You would make the decision for him. “Would you like my mouth or my cock? I’ll let you choose.”

Huffing, your hips rutted against his hand impatiently. He kneeled on the bed between your legs, adjusting his arm and adding a second finger in with the first, his thumb finding your bundle of nerves again. He listened to your breath hitch, and your quiet mewls, pride filling his chest that he was the one coaxing those noises out of you. Finally, you breathed deep and answered him. “Fuck me, Hitoshi.”

Ignoring the protesting whine that left your lips when he removed his fingers, he brought them up to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he sucked on them, tasting you. “You’re delicious, kitten. I’ll have to make sure to taste you properly later.” 

Wasting no time, he lifted your legs up to rest your legs over his shoulders, one hand on his cock. He lined himself up with your entrance, grabbing at your hips and pushing himself inside you. If he thought your mouth was hot and wet and basically everything he thought was heaven, he was mistaken. This was it. This was everything. He wasn’t even inside you all the way and he was fighting back the need to cum again, cursing himself and breathing deeply. He leaned forward, forearms on either side of your head as his mouth crashed against yours, all lips and tongues and teeth, his need for you growing tenfold as you wiggled your hips in an attempt to feel more of him.

Groaning, he bucked forward, filling you up, the both of you sighing in relief at the feeling. He gave you a moment to adjust, lips moving down your jaw and tongue laving at the mark he’d left on your neck earlier. “You feel so good, kitten.”

“Toshi, you can move…” Your hands were gripping his biceps, nails leaving crescent shapes in his pale skin, breathing ragged as you clenched around him.

Hissing, he followed your instructions, hips pulling back until he was almost completely out, before sliding back in. Your arousal made the glide easy, your back arching underneath him. He started a steady rhythm, grunting quietly and letting the feeling of you pulsing around him keep him grounded. He let one of his hands wander, shifting his weight so he could ghost his palm over your side, fingers pinching your nipple and rolling the hardened bud between them. You keened, chanting his name like a prayer, the sound of blood pounding in his ears almost masking the sound.

It spurred him to move faster, his chest tight, sweat pooling at his temples and between his shoulder blades, purple locks sticking to his forehead. His gaze was locked on you, and it stole his breath. Your chest and neck were flushed, the most beautiful sounds spilling from your lips as he fucked into you. It became clear to him that he wasn’t going to last much longer, and neither were you.

“Hey, kitten. You gonna cum for me?” He shifted back to his knees and trailed the fingers on his left hand down your stomach, coming to rest between your parted legs. “I want to hear how pretty you sound when you come apart.” He kept a firm grip on your hip to keep you from sliding away, rolling his hips and rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

“Fuck, Hitoshi!” The effect was almost immediate, your body and lungs seizing, eyes rolling back as you fell over the edge, your cunt clenching around him like a vice. 

Falling back over you, his thrusts became sloppy as he chased his own release, barely able to move with how tight your pussy was gripping him, your orgasm still rolling through you. He felt your hands on his face, guiding him to kiss you again, fingers carding through his hair and down his back, your nails raking red trails down his back. He felt like he could barely breathe, lost in you. “Y/N…”

He felt his muscles tense, and moved to bury his face in your neck, his hips stilling as he came hard, filling you up with his release. You squeezed around him again, and he sighed into your skin, eyes closed as he tried to regulate his breathing.

Rolling over to the side, he hissed when he pulled out. You chuckled, and he turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “What?”

“Is that what you call showing me your record collection?” 

Snorting, he propped his head up on his palm, leaning on his elbow, his free hand reaching out to push a piece of hair away from your face. “You attacked me, remember?”

“I couldn’t help it!” Protesting, you blushed. “I wanted to kiss you from the moment I walked into the cafe.”

It was his turn to blush. “Yeah?”

Shrugging, you turned on your side to face him. “Mm. Can you do me a favor?”

His body was still buzzing, muscles loose and pliant as he shuffled closer to you. “Anything.”

“Can you thank your friend for being a weird internet troll and finding my post?” 

Shinsou coughed a laugh, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Please, I can’t do that. It’s all he’d ever talk about for the rest of our lives if I did.” 

You leaned up and kissed him, your fingers pushing back his hair. 

He hummed against your lips, feeling content, shifting himself on the bed and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you into him. “Maybe I’ll send him a text later. For now, I have other plans.”

--

Kaminari’s phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he picked it up, eyes widening at the message that appeared on the screen.

Toshi: I owe you a crate full of Pokemon cards and my eternal gratitude for being a weirdo meme king who trolls the internet.

Denki: Oh, you’re in a good mood. Did you get laid?

Toshi: Fuck all the way off. 

Denki: That’s a yes. You’re welcome.

[forlornmelody]

Resurrection Day

Rating: M (just a lot of angst, really. Character death, some graphic violence, and an afterglow moment)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Jayrose, RedArse, 

Linkage: Ao3

Summary:   The Outlaws have always had a funny relationship with death, but when one of their own dies, they try to rise from their mistakes.

Note:  Idk if this is a fic, or more my headcanons strung together. Enjoy? 

-*-*

“Do you ever regret it?” 

Jason only half-hears her, his eyelids heavy, and his body so relaxed with release that he might never move again. “Mm?” he mumbles, pulling his body through quicksand so he can lay on his side and face her. 

Rose’s skin still glistens in the evening light, her hair mussed, and her face flushed. Her voice still throaty from moaning and screaming that Jason’s too busy reliving those last straining moments he almost doesn’t hear her again. “Do you ever regret...coming back?”

Pushing himself onto his elbows, Jason gazes down at her with a crooked grin. “To Gotham? Only when Bruce breathes down my neck.”

Snorting, Rose stretches one arm above her head, and her chest rises towards him in a way that makes him suck in his breath. Focus. She won’t meet his eyes, and her lips keep forming words she doesn't speak. “No, I mean. Do you regret being brought back?” The warmth in Jason’s belly turns to ice. 

It’s all too easy to remember that god-awful laugh, and the red haze in his vision, and the blood in his eyes. The searing pain of each blow, and the ache every time he tries to breathe. The numbness that settles in when he reaches the door and finds it locked--when he hears the egg timer on Joker’s signature bomb. 

Remembering what came after is harder. Running out of air. So much water, but it’s thicker than water, and he can’t get to the surface fast enough. Screaming. So much screaming. Is he screaming? Everyone’s trying to kill him. He can’t get out. He can’t get out. He can’t.

“Jason?” Rose only says his name when she’s worried. She squeezes his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin until his vision clears. “Shit. Sorry.” Sighing in frustration, she looks away. “Didn’t mean to bring all that back.”

Leaning his forehead against hers, Jason tries to get his breathing under control like his shrink taught him, but it’s easier said than done, and he fears the moment lost by the time he does. He tries to turn it into a joke, to lighten the mood. “That’s like asking if I regret being alive.” Jason huffs a laugh, but it falls flat. 

Rose bites her lip so hard Jason half-expects it to bleed. She looks up at him as if she’s confessing to murder. Sorry, Asshole, I fucked up again. Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. “I was there, you know.”

Jason’s eyes widen. “At the Lazarus Pit?” And there he is, again. Drowning. 

“Yeah.” She swallows, and the next part comes out thick. “I was the one who told Ra’s Al Ghul where to find your body. He let me watch, as a thank you.”

Nowhere in that haze of memory does Jason recall seeing Rose, and that it is a whole new betrayal. “Where?” He sucks in a breath. “When?”

“Guess you weren’t happy to see me.” She snorts. “You tried to kill me. Well. Everyone, really. But you were fixated on me.” Rose looks at him, finally. “Thaila had to pull you off me before I stopped self-healing altogether.”

“And then you...left?” He’s angry, as if he has any right to be. Jason probably would’ve done the same given the circumstances. 

Rose nods. “And the All-Caste offered to take you in, fix you right up. Guess it worked.” A small smile sneaks onto her lips. But it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

One of Jason’s first clear memories of that time--a lonely night in his cell in The Chamber of All. Wondering what happened to her. If she had died right along with him and hadn’t been brought back. Being so angry when he got back to Gotham and she apparently had a life of her own. His memories of her, after, are a little less clear. But the distant look in her eyes tells him all he needs to know. 

----

“Dude, don’t be so hard on her.” Roy polishes off yet another hot dog, licking his fingers. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Jason kicks his heels against the edge of the rooftop. He reaches for one of the polish sausages, but his stomach gurgles in protest. Maybe not, then. 

“You’ve no idea what she went through to get you back.” He turns to look at him, with those hazel eyes lingering on Jason in a way that always leaves him feeling, well, naked. Which shouldn’t be an issue right? Roy’s seen him naked plenty of times after a mission. There’s only one shower, and that apartment has one tiny ass water heater. Showering together only makes sense? At least there’s room for the both of them, just barely. It often turns into a game of Twister mixed with hot yoga. And like, there’s never been any problem, yeah? 

But sometimes the way Jason catches Roy staring at him. Makes him wonder. 

If he wants to stare back.

Just every once in a while. 

“Like what?” They really shouldn’t have bought the entire foodcart’s stock so the Old Man Gerasimos “Jerry” Angelos could head home early. This is way too much food, even with Roy’s bottomless stomach. 

“Maybe you should ask her sometime.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” Jason licks his fingers. “It’s easier to not talk about it at all.”

Roy laughs. “Ah, just like how you don’t talk about stuff with anyone else?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jason gives him a playful look, but the look on Roy’s face stops him short. 

Roy doesn’t answer. He reaches over instead, wiping the mustard that got caught on the side of his mouth. His fingers are so unbelievably warm, like he’s made of fire and not skin. And Jason aches when he pulls away abruptly. 

“I uh, I just remembered that my laundry’s sitting in the washer. Probably stinks already.” Roy rushes off, not even bothering to wipe his fingers on a napkin. 

“It always stinks, Harper!” Jason roars after him, but his friend has already shut the door. 

Roy dies two days later.

------

“Would you be angry if I--we brought Roy back?” They’re on a rooftop, They’ve been waiting here for hours for Valentino’s men to show, and still nothing. Not all the Tuesday tacos in the world can make the night any less stale. Rose is on her fifth one when she gets philosophical.

Jason snorts. “You say that like it’s possible.”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and that’s what scares him.

“It’s not,” he says, louder.

“Why not?” She wipes quac from the corner of her mouth, staring at the rooftop across the street as if Roy’s gonna pop out of the skylight any second. “We brought you back.”

She can’t be serious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Rose.”

Rose deadpans at him, her lips tight and firm. “I don’t?”

Jason thinks back to the first time he found her. Her right arm bent backward, her left cradling a wound that had bled out next to her. How her eyes stared out at nothing. Someone had pressed the mute button on the universe, except for the thud of his own heart. He should call someone. Bruce, 911, anyone, but his hands won’t move.  “Right, sorry.” 

It’s a terrible idea, they both know that, but the thought keeps eating away at him. Every time Jason lets his mind wander, it wanders to Roy--his crooked smile, his careless lean--the clumsiness that shouldn’t belong to a world-class archer, but it does. The headquarters seems so empty without Roy in it--so cavernous yet so claustrophobic like it’s going to eat Jason alive. 

-----

Three days later Rose is roundhouse kicking a punching bag when Jason finds her. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit.”

 Rose stumbles, missing the bag completely and tumbling to the floor. “The fuck, Jason!” For someone who sees the future, Rose certainly didn’t hear this coming. 

Jason helps her up. “We can’t use the Lazarus Pit. I don’t want Roy going through what I did.” He meets her eyes. “What we did.” 

Rose nods, still breathless and annoyed in a way that makes him want to smother her with kisses. “You got another idea?” Jason swallows, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Jason?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know your HLA markers, would you?”

“My what?”

----

 Rose hates going to the doctor. It’s rarely a problem--her regeneration usually prevents her from getting sick, and her injuries hardly last long enough. But she’s been around enough mad scientists that she practically glares holes into the nurse when he brings out the needle. 

“Don’t kill him and maybe I’ll give you a lollipop afterward.” Jason elbows her other arm.

“A lollipop is not what I want to be sucking right now,” Rose fires back, looking at him instead of the needle. She relaxes slightly, and Jason kisses her, brushing her hair behind her ear.

The nurse coughs. “Alright. Easy in--and done.”

Rose swallows, taking in a deep breath. “Finally.” She closes her eyes, then stands up, rushing for the door.

Jason pauses in the doorframe, looking back at the nurse. “Uh, keep us posted.”

“We’ll call.”

----

It’s a stupid idea. The morgue doesn’t even understand why Jason Todd, adopted son of Billionaire Bruce Wayne wants to keep Roy Harper’s body in their freezer, especially when Oliver Queen seems to want it cremated as soon as possible. Bribing the owner doesn’t even work--not with Queen’s fortune also in play. So, Rose concocts some dumbass story about Harper’s biological family coming in from out of town. It’s so crazy that both Queen and the mortician fall for it. 

Both Jason and Rose hold their breath when his phone rings. And Rose, and her fucking precognition, hugs him tight and fucking squeals before the nurse even says it “It’s a match.”

---

“Nervous?” Jason sits next to her, squeezing her hand as the scientist hooks the catheter tube to a vein in Roy’s chest. Jason has a hard time looking at his body, so he focuses on Rose instead. 

“Fucking terrified.” Rose laughs humorously. 

“Trust me, if they try anything I’ll shoot them myself.”

“You know I can hear you, right?”

-----

Rose isn’t sure what’s more surprising, the gleam in Roy’s eyes like he just woke up from a nap, or the desperate kiss Jason gives him when he takes his first breath. Or maybe it’s not surprising at all. She should have known from the way Roy always seemed to be in Jason’s thoughts--he always had a convincing lie, and maybe Rose wanted to believe him. Maybe she should feel angry--betrayed, even, but all she feels is relief.

Finally, Jason remembers they’re not alone, and he breaks off from sucking Roy’s face, his face as red as Roy’s hair. 

Roy, on other hand, is not surprised at all. “Missed me that much, huh?”