#and i did laundry and got to put on sweatpants straight from the dryer

[obnoxioussmiley]

Like Medicine

Pairing: Jake Lockley X Reader

Warnings: established relationship, reader has depression, implied nudity but nothing sexual, just absolutely pure fluff

Summary: When you can’t seem to pull yourself together, Jake is always there to help you collect the pieces.

yes this is a comfort fic leave me alone

To say you had a rough week would be an understatement. It was stressful, anxious, and downright horrible. You were grateful to have a three day weekend before having to go back to work, and so far you’ve managed to spend a majority of the last two in bed.

It was your neglect to answer your phone that told Jake something was up. Calls going straight to voicemail and texts unread, telling him to go to you. So you shouldn’t be surprised when you heard the jingling of the lock to your apartment and the door creak open to reveal him.

He stepped through the threshold and closed the door behind him, mumbling something about getting you better security. He surveyed the room and landed his eyes on you, laying in bed. You were awake, staring at the wall too lost in your thoughts to properly greet him.

The floor creaked under his footsteps as he moved, taking off his jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. Then they got closer until his sweatpants obscured your vision and he crouched down in front of your face.

“Hey gorgeous, what’re you still doing in bed?” He asked softly, giving you a worried yet nurturing look.

If you had tried to tell anyone he was like this with you, they wouldn’t believe you. He looked so gruff and cold on the outside, blocking out most people. Except you. He disliked everyone but you.

He reached a hand out and brushed some hair away from your face, and you practically melted under his touch. He cupped the side of your face and he swiped his thumb under your eye, wiping away dried tears. You closed your eyes, humming contentedly, “Did I hear you pick the lock?” You wanted to just fall back asleep with him right here, but he had other plans.

“I forgot my key,” Jake responded, standing up and crossing the room to the bathroom. He ran a nice, warm bath, throwing in your favorite salt scents. While it filled up, he grabbed some fresh pajamas and threw them to spin in the dryer for a bit.

Making his way back to you, he sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed your hand. “C’mon sweetheart, it’s time to get up.” You let out a soft groan of reluctance, but let him pull you to sit up, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso.

Resting your head on his chest, you took in a slow breath, reveling in how he smelled. A faint scent of coffee and some car freshener, probably whatever he had in the cab at the moment.

“That’s right, just take a deep breath in,” He hummed, rubbing circles into your back. He let you stay like that for a moment, before starting to stand up and bringing you with him. He took your hand in his and dragged you after him to the bath. Helping you out of your days old clothes, he tossed them towards the laundry basket and helped you settle into the water. “There we go, ain’t that nice?”

You hummed in response, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax in the water. “‘M sorry, Jake,” you mumbled.

A frown settled onto his face as he grabbed your shampoo. Kneeling next to the tub, he scooped up water in his hands to wet your hair, “For what?” You mumbled out an answer, too inaudible for him to make out. “What was that?”

Mumbling some more, but loud enough, “I’m sorry I get like this.”

He made a tsk sound, lathering some shampoo in his hands and working it through your hair. “No, don’t say that, you can’t help it.”

You shrugged, “Alright.”

Leaning over the edge of the tub to look down at you, he put a finger under your chin to life your head up towards him. Looking into your eyes he reassured, “Do not be sorry. It’s not your fault. And I am more than happy to be here with you.” The slightest upturn of your mouth made him ecstatic, breaking out into a grin. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before rinsing out your hair.

“Alright, up you go,” He stood up, offering his hand for stability as you stood as well. “Here’s one of those fluffy towels you got, dry off.” You did as told while he left the room, returning with your now warm pajamas. “Why don’t you go snuggle up in bed and pick out a movie to watch, and I’ll fix up something to eat, yeah?”

You nodded, but before you left you grabbed the edge of his t-shirt, pulling him in for a hug. “Thank you,” you spoke into his shoulder.

He held you tight like he was holding you together. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Your heart warmed at the statement, seven words that eliminated any doubts that had been floating in your mind.

Pulling away enough to look at his face, you leaned in to kiss him. And he kissed back like he needed it to live, his hand coming up to cup your face. He always kissed like that and it always made you feel so wanted. It was sweet and soft, but at the same time intense, like he was trying to pour all his love straight into your soul.

When you pulled apart, he looked into your eyes with such adoration, you couldn’t help but flush under his gaze. That same old teasing smirk threatened to come out on his face as he ran his thumb over your red cheek. “Gorgeous.”

Your own cheeky smile made its way onto your face as you hummed, “Hi.”

“Go pick us out a movie,” He ushered, pushing you slightly towards the bed, while he retreated towards the kitchen.

Grabbing your laptop, you settled into bed and picked out a movie, waiting for him to join you. He returned with your favorite quick meal and joined you under the covers.

His arm around your shoulder and your head on his, you never felt better.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #moon knight #reader is gender neutral

[it-is-the-hannah]

The running theme of the past couple months has been my brain randomly conjuring the Mountain Goats line “I hope you love your life now/like I love mine” 

I always used to say that one day I was going to move far away from home and figure out who the fuck I was on my own, and now I have, and I really like who I’ve become, and like, life isn’t perfect and it’s not at all how I pictured it when I was younger but I really think I’m happy? 

Fucking hell, I’ve been getting really sentimental with the holidays coming up, but I just want to say that I hope you all can find a way to love your lives, if not now, then someday, because it’s the best feeling in the whole world to realize that you’re gonna be okay, and I just really want everybody to have that.

#god i'm weirdly emotional today #i went for a walk in the park and there were ducks #and a mariachi band playing in the AIDS memorial grove #and little kids on bikes #and so many friends laughing together #and the sun! #and the wind! #and I got to my favorite part of my book! #and i read some really good fanfic today #and listened to christmas music #and when i called my mom she told me about all the goings on at our small town library #and i did laundry and got to put on sweatpants straight from the dryer #and there's so many bad things that have happened #but i'm here! #i'm alive! #and i get to have so many good days! #i wanna go back in time and tell my younger self visiting san francisco for the first time that one day i get to live here #and have short hair #and joke about kissing girls #and pet every dog i see #happiness is not a foreign emotion #but contentment is #and i think that's what this is #anyway #sorry for the sappiness #adventures with hannah

[marvelous-harry]

A scene where Harry is due to go to tour kicking off in other country , reader n Florence not joining him for a few weeks , while he packing reader hiding his things not wanting him to go being really upset

Xx

Closing the washing machine, I poured in the washing powder and the detergent before turning it on.

"Hey, baby, did you happen to see my blue ripped jeans and any of my t-shirts in the wash you just put on?" Harry asked as he came inside, his hand full of various clothing items and electronics.

"No, why?" I asked as I cleared out the filter for the dryer.

"Just wanted to pack them," he smiled and turned back around.

"Oh. I'll let you know if I see them," I told him, giving him a little smile as he left. My smile dropped off my face as soon as he was gone. Tour was three weeks away and Harry was leaving in just two days to start rehearsals in America in an actual arena.

Clearing my throat, I grabbed a laundry basket and walked over to the dryer, and got the clothes out. Of course, I was excited for Harry to get to do what he loves but I was also dreading it. It was the first time since we'd gotten together that he was leaving for a proper long period of time, and going without seeing him for weeks at a time too.

Sighing as I walked over to the bedroom, I scowled as I saw his suitcases on the bed. Putting the laundry basket down on the bed, I shut both the suitcases and dropped them down on the floor to get them out of my way and sight.

Sitting down on the bed, I stared at the laundry basket. I could feel how all my emotions were battling on the inside. I just wanted to scream, cry, and say nothing at all at once. Giving the laundry basket a hard kick, I watched as it tipped over and all the clothes spilled out on the bed and over the edge of it.

And there it was. His stupid t-shirt.

Looking more closely I could also see his jeans. Getting off the bed, I grabbed both pieces of clothing before rummaging through the rest of the clothes and picking out all of Harry's things.

Biting my lip, I looked around the room before heading over to my wardrobe. Pushing back my clothes that were hanging up, I put all his clothes at the back before pulling my clothes in front of it and closing the door.

Sneaking over to the door, I listened carefully to hear for Harry and Florence before I shut it and locked it. Hurrying over to the suitcases on the floor, I flipped them open before I started grabbing random bits out before quickly closing them again. Stuffing the little pile under the bed, I stood up.

Breathing heavily, I blinked my eyes quickly as they welled up with tears. Wiping at my eyes, I unlocked the door and headed downstairs. Entering the kitchen I ignored Flossie that was by the stove cooking dinner and headed for the drawer that had our snacks in it.

"Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes, darling. Don't ruin your appetite," Florence said as she glanced over.

Grabbing a chocolate bar, I slammed the drawer shut. "Whatever," I mumbled as I walked away. Sitting down on the couch, I pulled a blanket over my head and turned the TV on, turning the volume up high as I ripped open the chocolate and took a big bite of it.

"Baby, can you come up here for a second?" Harry shouted down the stairs while Florence shouted from the kitchen. "Turn the volume down, please!"

Ignoring them both, I tried to focus on what I was supposed to be watching.

"Did you not hear us?" Harry asked as he appeared by my side. "Hey!" he said as he grabbed the remote and turned the sound off.

I glared up at him. "I was watching that!" I protested as he took a seat.

"Yeah? What's the show about?" he asked as he looked at me cross.

"Penguins!" I answered and reached for the remote.

Harry gave a little smile before putting the remote behind him. "We need to talk,"

"I don't want to talk," I mumbled as I took another big bite of my chocolate, pulling the blanket tighter around me.

"Well, we're going to anyway," Harry said as he cleared his throat. "I was just in the bedroom, was going to put some things into my suitcase, found them on the floor and things I know I had put in was missing,"

I grumbled. "Your memory clearly isn't as good as you think," I told him, turning to give him another glare.

"You know I'll miss you right? Both you and Florence," Harry said as he looked back at me.

Quickly looking away, I took a quick, deep breath as I tried to ignore how he was pulling me closer.

"I'll miss you so much every second of every day. It's going to be so weird not being next to you," he said as he pushed the blanket off me.

I could feel a tear running down my cheek.

"So it would be okay if you were feeling a little sad too," he said softly. "I know I am,"

Feeling almost angry that Harry was being kind and not just yanking me over his lap for a spanking, I quickly dried my face and stood up. "Stop that!" I told him harshly, glaring at him.

Harry looked at me. "Stop what exactly?"

"Stop being nice! Don't say things like that! Just stop!" I groaned frustrated. Seeing Florence watching us from the doorway, I let out a little frustrated scream.

Rushing over to where Harry was still sitting on the sofa, I slapped him on the chest and managed to hit him a few more times before he grabbed my arms and held them tightly.

"That is enough! Calm down," Harry said firmly as he held me close and pinned my arms to my chest.

"Get off me!" I screamed as I tried to struggle free. "Let me go! Harry!"

Harry just held on tightly. "I'm not letting go till you calm down," he told me.

Struggling against him, I cried as I just couldn't get free. Letting out a sob, I slumped against him. "I did hide your things," I told him as I cried.

"Yeah? Where did you hide them?" Harry asked as he let go of my arms so he could wrap them around me instead.

"Under the bed and in my wardrobe," I told him. "I don't want you to go, I don't want you to leave me and Flossie," I sobbed. "I want to ask you to stay. To stay for me, and to stay for Flossie,"

Harry closed his eyes as he held me close, stroking my back gently.

"I've gotten used to having you around," I whimpered as more tears streamed down my face.

"I've gotten used to having you around too," Harry replied quietly as he pressed a kiss to my head.

For a few minutes, he just held me as I cried.

"I need you to go and put everything you hid away on the bed okay?" Harry said as he ended the hug, adjusting us so we had a little distance between us.

"Okay," I whispered as I used the sleeve on my jumper to wipe my eyes.

"Good girl. Let's stand up. I'm going to give you a few smacks for hitting me, yelling, and hiding my thing,"

Whimpering as we stood up, I sniffled and pressed my hands against my face as Harry pulled down my sweatpants and my undies.

Harry quickly gave me five hard smacks to my bum before pulling my clothes back up. "You can go upstairs now and find everything. When you're done come to the kitchen. I think dinner is about ready," he said as he patted my bum.

"Yes, Harry," I replied before heading upstairs to do as I was told.

Harry watched as you walked up the stairs and into the bedroom.

"She'll be okay. We all will," Florence spoke up as she walked out from the kitchen and put her hands on his shoulders.

Harry took a deep breath as he wrapped his hands around her waist. "I knew it was going to be hard but this hard?" he whispered.

Florence smiled softly before leaning up and giving him a kiss. "You'll have an amazing time and we'll be there before you know it to enjoy it all with you. Now come on, dinner is ready and the table needs setting," she told him before holding on to his hands and dragging him into the kitchen.

Smiling, Harry dutifully followed her before grabbing the plates and cutlery they'd need.

Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, I headed straight for Harry who was taking his seat. Pulling my chair close to his, I sighed as he wrapped a hand around my shoulder. I really was going to miss him when he was away.

#this is longer than i planned #harry styles imagines #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fan fics #harry/florence/reader

[dumbikawa]

Taking Care of the HQ Boys

GN!Reader | Fluff | Warnings: None

Characters: Suna, Kuroo, Iwaizumi

A/n: I’m such a simp for these boys it’s insane

SUNA

It took Suna a while to get used to the way you never held back when it came to taking care of him. One night, after a particularly rough practice, he’d sluggishly entered the apartment and practically collapsed on top of where you were laying on the couch. Wordlessly, you positioned yourself so that he was resting on your lap with both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was comfortably silent as you ran your fingers through his hair that was still slightly damp from showering at the gym and in no time at all he was softly snoring.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he loved when you took care of him in little ways like that. From the start, he had always insisted on being the big spoon, obsessed with the way your body perfectly molded against his and the satisfaction of knowing you felt safe in his arms. Ever since that night, though, it became a regular thing for you to see him standing, looking at you like a pouty child, from the corner of your eye waiting for you to take the hint that he wanted you to cuddle him. You'd simply open your arms for him to crawl into without even having to look up from your phone.

Today was no exception.

Suna can feel the physical exhaustion down to his bones as he allows the cool water to wash away the sweat and grime he collected over the course of practice. Mentally he feels the same; completely drained in every sense of the word. He can’t even find the energy to thoroughly dry his hair, opting to quickly rub it with a towel before making his way to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed.

“Rin!” you gently scold, placing the book you’d been reading beside you on the bed. “You’re going to ruin your pillow.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, eyes remaining shut as he lets out a content sigh. He did care, actually, but his decision was already made and now that he was in bed there was no way he was getting up. He truly meant that, but when he feels you tugging at his hand for him to get up he begrudgingly obliges.

You’re holding your hair dryer and gesturing for him to sit on the floor. It doesn’t seem wise to disobey when you look so determined, so he slides off the bed, giving you full access to his sopping mess of hair.

His eyes flutter closed as the warmth from the hairdryer and the way your fingers are skillfully brushing through his hair begins to pull him towards sleep. Not to mention, in this position he has the perfect opportunity to use your thigh as a pillow and he makes a mental note to have you dry his hair more often. But, sadly, the flow of warm air shuts off and your voice pulls him back to the present.

“C’mon you big baby,” you laugh, watching him groan and throw himself back up on the bed. He shimmies under the covers, but refuses to place his head back on the damp pillow. Instead, he stares at you with sleepy eyes until you’ve positioned yourself so that you can sit comfortably and open your arms for him.

His arms automatically snake around your waist as he buries his head in your side.

“Do I do enough to take care of you?” he asks softly, turning to look up at you with a vulnerability that he doesn't often display so openly.

“Of course, Rin,” you hum, tracing your fingers down his exposed back. He still seems unsure as he pushes his face against your shirt, but his shoulders relax slightly. “I mean it. I like taking care of you, okay? There’s nothing to repay if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Your reassurance falls on deaf ears, though, as you feel his breathing even out and his grip on you loosening.

“I love you, baby,” you whisper, grabbing your book from where you’d set it earlier and relishing in the quiet as you continued to absentmindedly draw designs against Suna's warm skin. 

KUROO

Kuroo closes the apartment door quietly, finally letting his shoulders droop with exhaustion now that he's inside. He slips his bag noiselessly onto the ground and flicks his watch up to check the time. It was well past midnight by the time he actually clocked out of work and, although he wants nothing more than a dual welcome home/goodnight kiss from you, he hopes you’re sound asleep by now.

However, much to his surprise, you’re curled up on the couch with a book and a warm cup of tea, so enthralled in whatever you’re reading that you don't hear him approach. There’s a strong possibility you aren’t even aware of what time it is, completely lost in another world. He tests this theory by walking behind the couch and wrapping his arms around you, chuckling at the way you jump at the sudden contact.

“Welcome home!” you beam once you recover from the small scare. You press a quick kiss to his upturned lips before he walks around to the front so that he can relieve a proper hug.

“Thank you, babe,” he murmurs against your lips, not wanting to pull away from your warmth just yet. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I wanted to wait for you and then I got to this really good part in my book and just...lost track of what time it was.” The way your eyes light up sends a wave of admiration shooting straight through Kuroo’s heart. “How was work? Why did you have to stay so late?”

Kuroo begins walking you through his hectic day, quickly turning the discussion into an irritated rant about having to fix other people’s mistakes and figuring out schedules for upcoming projects. You listen thoughtfully as you migrate towards the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing closely behind.

Soon, there was a cup of hot tea in his hands and the two of you are positioned on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

Your eyes never leave his as he talks, nodding along and asking questions every now and then. He didn’t need nor want any sort of advice or words of wisdom. Simply having you listen to him was enough to have him feeling ten times lighter by the time he reached the bottom of his cup.

“Do you want more?” you ask, beginning to stand up. Kuroo doesn’t answer, instead leaning forward and hooking his arm around your waist so that you fall back into his arms.

“More of you, yes,” he says, smiling into your hair. He can practically feel the way your eyes roll as you let out an exasperated groan at his cheesy comment, but the hint of a blush making its way to your cheeks betrays you.

You make the first move to get up, offering a hand out to him. His hand engulfs yours as you pull him towards the bedroom. The bed has new sheets and the laundry is sitting in a basket freshly washed and ready to be folded. A wave of guilt crashes into him, knowing that you also worked today and must’ve come home afterwards and cleaned up.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten some rest,” Kuroo sighs, gesturing to the laundry and neatly made  bed. "I'm certain it was my turn to do the laundry.”

“Yeah, but when you told me you had to work late I figured I’d knock out some chores since I had the time. It’s not like it’s a big deal, Tetsu.” 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The words have barely left his lips before he's throwing the covers over the two of you and shutting off the lights. His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you close to him, relishing in your small giggles. It doesn't take long for you to drift to sleep while Kuroo places soft kisses against your exposed shoulders. He soon follows, matching his breathing with yours and immediately winding down, but until his brain finally shuts off from exhaustion he's thinking of all the ways he's going to show you just how much he appreciates everything you do.

IWAIZUMI

Iwaizumi watches as you begin cooking dinner for the two of you as a quiet pop song plays off your phone. His work day was less than stellar, to put it simply, but watching you dance around the kitchen has already earned the frown from his face and has him smiling like a damn fool.

“Haji!” you exclaim, suddenly noticing the lurking figure from the corner of your eye. He steps out from his hiding place, an amused yet sheepish look on his face as he notices your flustered expression. “Why were you just standing there? Come here and give me a kiss, idiot.” He raises his hands in surrender as he does what you say, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment longer than usual and wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, resting his face into the crook of your neck. You pull back slightly, ignoring his childlike protests as you do so.

“Are you okay?” you question, eyeing him up and down. Iwaizumi is sure he could get lost in your beautiful eyes that are currently filled with concern. You know him too well, he thinks, as you give him a knowing look. It was still difficult for him to open up about things, especially small things that had bothered him throughout the day. There wasn't a real reason to talk about all the irritating parts of the day because he knows he can handle them himself, or so he claims.

“Y/n, it’s nothing,” he reassures, kissing your nose in an attempt to further prove he’s not bothered. “It was just a very long day, but now I’m back here with you and I couldn’t be happier.” His smooth talking makes it impossible for you to stay mad, but you surely try.

“Alright, well, you know you can talk about it even if it’s ‘nothing.’ In the meantime, stay here and watch the food for a moment while I run you a bath.” Iwaizumi is quick to object, but you’ve already sauntered out of the room and he can hear the faint sound of running water.

It truly did feel nice to be taken care of, he thinks fleetingly as he sinks into the warm water, but it's difficult for him to fully relax when he can hear you bustling around the kitchen. He waits in the bath for a little longer so that you won't bite his head off for how quick he was before changing  into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt. The sounds of you beginning to set the table echoes down the hallway and he finds himself hoping you'll at least let him help with that.

“You lasted longer in there than I thought," you tease as your boyfriend appears back at your side. "Now go sit down." He opens his mouth to argue, but one look and he finds himself moving towards the table, wondering why you were so intent on doing everything.

“At least let me do the dishes,” he practically pleads, watching you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude as you bring the warm food over to the table.

“Or, hear me out, we leave the dishes to deal with tomorrow and spend the rest of the night watching movies cuddled up on the couch." He narrows his eyes as he searches through his brain, trying to remember if he'd forgotten an anniversary or birthday because he surely didn't feel as if he deserved this.

As if reading his mind once again you reach out and hold his hand, gently rubbing your thumb in circles against his skin.

"Can't you just let me take care of you? You're constantly going above and beyond for me, so I just thought I'd try and return the favor." Iwaizumi feels his face heat up as you place a kiss against his knuckles like he always does to you. It did feel nice, but he enjoys taking care of you. He never even thinks twice about it. 

"Alright, alright. In that case, you can do the dishes tonight and maybe also get some desert." He can feel your eyes boring into him as if to say, 'Don't push it.' A smile breaks out on his face as he begins digging into the meal you prepared, peppering you with compliments until his plate is clean.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #suna x reader #suna fluff #kuroo fluff #kuroo x reader #suna headcanons #kuroo headcanons #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi headcanons #suna rintarō #kuroo tetsuro #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! #hq fluff #hq x reader #haikyuu #suna scenarios #kuroo scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios

[detectivecarlosreyes]

Keeping the line open 

Ao3 | 3.2k | Rated: Gen | Tarlos 

Summary  Carlos hated this. Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship. ~ aka Carlos's perspective in the aftermath of the fight in 2x04 and all that followed when TK returned.

For @911lonestarangstweek : Day 3 fix-it/Coda

Carlos hated this.

Hated how he made TK feel. Hated how he felt himself. It was eating him up inside to know that he was the cause of this whole situation. It’s not like he and TK hadn’t had any arguments before, they had a number of them before they had figured out what they were and what they meant to each other at the beginning of their relationship.

But this one had a finality to it.

“I freed some more space in your closet. Carlos.”

That’s what TK had said, and Carlos wasn’t sure where that left them.Was that a break-up? It kind of felt like it was, and that made it even worse. Because he didn’t know for sure if it actually was a break-up, or if TK just said it in the heat of the moment but didn’t actually mean anything by it.

Carlos’ stomach roiled at the mere recollection, just the thought of it left him feeling like he was in relationship limbo again, a place he thought he would never be in again since they got together, the day aurora borealis lit the sky. He groaned as he lay in bed, hearing the words repeat over and over again, effectively ruining any chance he had of getting any sleep. Unable to push it from his mind, Carlos tried calling him once but was sent straight to voicemail and followed it up with a text asking him, almost pleading for TK to call him back, hopeful to just be able to talk to him and explain everything. He wondered how TK was, hoped that he was okay, that he made it home to his parents safely. All he could think about was his concern for TK’s welfare and how much he had royally screwed up.

The rest of his night was a sleepless one. One spent in the kitchen, in an attempt to calm his mind with the structure that a recipe would give him, making sweet, chocolate-filled empanadas, something that he learned to make for late-night study sessions in college. It was a calming balm to his turbulent mind. helped it to push aside the frenetic feeling of anxiety over one pissy fight that ended leaving him feeling like it was the end of the world, of their relationship, even if, realistically, it probably wasn’t.

This is not how he wanted things to go. It was not the way he wanted the first meeting between his parents and his boyfriend to happen. The one boyfriend that he actually felt confident in introducing to his parents. He had a plan. One that involved preparing both parties before they officially met over a nice home-cooked meal, not some chance meeting that left him panicking and lying and hurting the man that practically owns his heart.

He hated that he was the cause of this argument, this fight, and the reason for disturbing their bubble of bliss of just being together and loving one another freely. The last thing he wanted was to upset his boyfriend. To blindside him without giving him any forewarning about his past, about his family, to give him all the facts of what he was walking into of the relationship, especially considering how forthcoming TK had been in the past.

When TK asked him about his parents he shouldn’t have evaded the question. It was a topic that he would’ve had to have faced at some point if he was going to make the plan a reality anytime in the near future, like how he’s imagined it so many times. Why didn’t he just tell TK his history with his parents when he asked about them? It’s a question that spun around and around in his head since TK had walked out the door. And he knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it to himself.

Carlos had always prided himself in being comfortable with who he was. Self-assured and confidant, a calming presence for the people that needed it. He buried that insecurity surrounding his sexuality and his parents beneath that persona and didn’t want to bring it to light again. Didn’t want to confront his parents and really get them to understand and see him and his sexuality completely. Didn’t want his openness in front of them to potentially compromise the love and acceptance he got when he first came out.

He knew he shouldn’t have made light of the situation by trying to crack jokes, knowing as soon as he started that TK wasn’t going to appreciate his effort to de-escalate the situation with ill-timed jokes, but it was the only defense he had. He hadn’t wanted to lay himself bare and be completely truthful because deep down he was insecure, a feeling that he hid not just from others but also himself. He was afraid of being exposed because deep down he was afraid that it would be a repeat of the last time he was truly vulnerable when he had come out to his parents.

This was all he thought about for most of the day, leaving him exhausted and distracted through most of his shift, but acting as though he was fine when really he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. He didn’t linger once his shift ended like he usually would, not feeling up to pretending that he was okay. Pretending that the finality of his argument with TK didn’t hurt, because it did, Carlos had thought that TK was going to be the one. The first one to introduce to his parents when the time was right. He had thought that he had more time. He knew his mind was spiralling to the worst-case scenario, and logically he knew that TK would talk to him eventually, but logic was not enough to quell the feeling of dread surrounding their relationship.

He didn’t call or text all day, wanting to give TK the space that he clearly wanted and when he got home, he tried to distract himself further by doing a load of laundry, which didn’t just include his clothes, but TK’s as well. The washing didn’t really distract as he hoped though, still finding himself gravitating back to his phone hoping that TK might have messaged or called with a change of heart. None came through and it left him feeling somewhat hopeless to think that might change. He’s had breakups before, but none have come close to what he was feeling. And that meant something. Because he saw a future with TK, something that he’s never entertained with past relationships.

Eventually, he collapsed on the couch in his sweatpants in a perpetual state of turmoil and regret, lamenting over how all of this could have been avoided if he had just been honest in the first place. His resolve was cracking now that he wasn’t occupied and it left him with his thumb hovering over TK’s name in his contacts with a strong want to break the deafening silence between them and just get the relief of hearing TK’s voice. Somehow he managed to refrain from doing so, now wanting to give away his desperation in a series of texts or calls.

He startled an hour later when someone knocked at the door while he was on his way to check on the laundry that had just finished its cycle to put in the dryer. Curious, having not had any messages from anyone else to say they were stopping by he peers through the window beside the door to discover a familiar silhouette, causing his hands to sweat anxiously.

With hesitation, he opened the door wide before drawing it back in, apprehensive of the fact that TK chose not to use his key and what that meant. “Hey,” he said quietly suddenly feeling nervous, seeing the seriousness in TK’s face.

“Hi,” answered TK, just as softly, “Can I come in?”  

“You’ve got a key.”

“Yeah, I thought, maybe you might want that back.”

“Why? Are we breaking up?” He asked and then continued, suddenly feeling fed up and not wanting to beat around the bush anymore, “Or did that already happen because it kinda felt like it did.”

“No,” TK said quickly before following it up with a hesitant, “I mean, I hope not.”

“Come in.” He gestured inside and stepped out of the way.

Trying not to be confrontational, he stayed by the door after he closed it with his hand in his pockets and waited as TK led the conversation, interjecting when TK said that he had acted like a little bitch, which he didn’t, he had made some valid points even if he had been a little dramatic about it. Carlos was slightly taken aback however when TK said he wasn’t sorry, and found his phrasing characteristically confusing, a typical occurrence when he wasn’t sure how exactly to get across the point he was trying to make.

“… do you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

He didn’t say anything more, allowing for TK to take a different tact as he relocated to ottoman making it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere, and explained what he meant. TK was being completely open and honest about how the day before had made him feel, a sight different from how cagey he used to be when they first met.

“It kills me,” he admitted after TK had said his piece and he finally moved from his spot and sat in front of TK, relieved that TK was clearly willing to hear him out, “Which is exactly why I was avoiding introducing you because I didn’t want that to happen and I- I knew it would.”

“Yeah, but did it have to? They knew you were gay.” He could see that TK was trying to understand, trying to make sense of what he was saying with the limited knowledge of what he knew so far.

“They know, yes.” He said quickly. Trying to find the right words, he took a deep breath, feeling the floodgates lift as he tells TK everything that he’s withheld up until now, wringing his hands as he does so.

“I came out to them when I was seventeen. They were shocked. I- I knew it rocked their world, but they hugged me and told me they loved me and that was that. Do you know what we talked about the next morning? Hmm? The Astros bullpen, the price of unleaded, a new calf in our family ranch. Not one mention of what I shared… then or… since.”

“They seemed like such nice people.”

“They are nice people,” he corrected TK, “But, they’re not perfect people.”

“You know, my parents may be very queer-friendly, but they’re not perfect either,” TK offered, Carlos thinks as a way to help him feel better, “They just gave me a pep talk, that felt like it was more about them than about me.”

Carlos could feel his nerves settling, having unburdened himself and having TK listen and hear the words that he had, up until this point, left unspoken through his avoidance of the topic while also offering a piece of his own upbringing to allay any residual discomfort he had over this conversation.

“That explains a lot,” he says amused, finding the stress slowly melting away.  

TK continued, “There was something that my mom did say though. She said… that I felt triggered because I didn’t feel safe in this relationship.” Carlos broke eye contact with TK as he felt his heart plummet to the floor.

“I see. I’m sorry to hear that.” He said, doing his best to keep his voice steady,  trying to swallow the emotions caught in his throat and wondering if this might actually be it for them after all that, but TK continued speaking, instantly brushing away the anxiety that had spiked within him.

“But you know what I didn’t consider? Is how unsafe you feel and have felt for so much of your life.”

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat as he looked up at TK in wonder, he didn’t expect to feel quite so seen and understood that it left him breathless with his eyes reflexively watering in relief. He could feel the knot in his stomach loosen at that thought as TK slotted his hands into his own, taking a firm and reassuring grip.

“I want you to know that I am fully on board. You can tell your parents I am your friend, your colleague, your personal shopper...” That last one made Carlos laugh considering how that must have looked to his parents at the market, “…I don’t care. Okay? As long as you need.”

As much as he loved knowing how willing TK was to stay by his side regardless of their situation, there was something he had to know and it hurt him to even ask but he knew it wouldn’t be fair to TK if he didn’t, “And if it never changes?” He couldn’t keep the vulnerability from his voice and felt completely at TK’s mercy, knowing that what he says next could very well influence the rest of their relationship, if TK felt he wouldn’t be able to withstand the possibility of being indefinitely his ‘friend from work’ in the eyes of his parents.

“Nothing ever stays the same, Carlos.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he doesn’t and that seemed alright with TK. Instead, he draws TK’s hands held in his grasp and gently holds them to his lips as he shuts his eyes in gratitude. He stays like that, breathing in deep and soothingly, sensing as TK drew himself in closer and felt the touch of his lips pressed against his bowed forehead.

“We’ve unpacked a lot tonight.” TK murmurs into his temple when his lips broke contact, “How about I order us some of your favourite food from that restaurant you like, and we can just curl up on the couch and watch a movie?”

“I’d like that.” Carlos breathed out, any residual tension in his body leaving him as he does so, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. He opened his eyes and released TK’s hands, shaking himself out of the moment, remembering that he was heading to the laundry when TK had turned up.

“I- ah I just need to move washing to the dryer if either of us are going to have any clothes for work tomorrow.”

TK stood up with him and moved in the opposite direction, heading towards the door leaving Carlos to follow him with his eyes questioningly. “TK?”

TK turned with his hand on the door, a bashful look flushing his face, “I left my phone in my bag outside-- I knew you wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure you actually wanted to see me,” TK opened the door and picked up his duffle, the same one he walked out with the previous night, “…couldn’t bring myself to unpack it.”

Carlos chuckled lightly from where he was standing, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You couldn’t bring yourself to unpack your bag, and I couldn’t even bring myself to passive-aggressively wash only my clothes that were in the hamper, we’re both hopeless.” He said before disappearing in the direction of the laundry room, leaving TK to order dinner.

When he returned TK was already on the couch, elbows propped on knees as he finished up making their dinner order, one that he seemed to have rote learned from the few times that they’d had it. Dropping his phone to the side as the order went through, TK invited with an outstretched arm for him to settle in as he picked up the remote, “dinner should be here in 30 minutes.”

Carlos fell into TK’s open arms and easily positions himself partially lying across his lap with his back resting against his chest leaving TK to wrap his arms around his torso as he proceeded to pick a movie. He relaxed into the embrace, comforted but the slow rise and fall of TK’s chest against his back.

Carlos waited until the opening credits started on the movie that they watched at least half a dozen times and kissed the inside of TK’s bicep before saying, “We have dessert for tonight. I ended up making chocolate empanadas in the middle of the night and stress ate too many to count because I couldn’t sleep at all last night.”

He felt TK shift beneath him, “I barely slept either.”

Carlos continued, “I’m glad you came back. With the way that you left, I wasn’t sure that you would. I had built it up in my head with all the things I should have done differently to the point that I thought this was an irreparable deal-breaker.”

“Carlos, I was always going to come back, you have to know that--” TK said, conviction clear in his voice, causing Carlos to sit up, propped up on his arms to look at him properly, “--I know I said I wasn’t sorry, but I am-- for making you feel like that. I just needed time to process it all.”

“I know and I get that now. And I’m sorry too, for putting you in that situation in the first place, this wasn’t the way that I planned on introducing you to my parents.”

His admittance erased the guilt swimming in TK’s eyes and brought forth its usual mischievous sparkle in its place, “Oh, so there was a plan?”

“Uh-huh.”  He responded mirthfully with a smirk, not giving much away, and returned to his original position, finding TK’s arms circle him more tightly and felt his chin rest lightly on the crown of his head. The was a beat or two before he spoke again, “TK?”

“Yeah?”

He placed a hand over TK’s, “I don’t want to fight like that again. I hated the silence and not being able to just talk to you.”

“I hated it too,” TK murmured into his hair and there was a quiet moment between them.

“What if… what if we make it so that it doesn’t happen like that again?”

“What are you thinking?”

Carlos paused for a second, gathering his thoughts, “We need to be able to communicate, to be open and honest about a problem with each other, even if it’s to say that we might not be ready to talk about it, just, you know, acknowledge it for a later conversation?”

“Keeping the line open to one another.” TK summarised thoughtfully.

“Yeah,”

“Okay. I like the sound of that.” TK responded softly and sealed it with a kiss into his hair.

The rest of the evening was spent comfortably, how it should have been the night before, eating dinner together on the couch, reciting their favourite parts of what was left of the movie, wrapped up with one another.

They finished off what was left of the empanadas and eventually fell into bed in exhaustion, completely stuffed and at peace, no longer anxious or upset as they were the previous night. If they were slightly more clingy than usual, well neither of them were going to say anything about it because they still had each other and that was what mattered.

The last words spoken by both of them, just like every other night, was a promise and a quiet declaration of “I love you”, sealed with a good night’s kiss.

#jess writes #911lsangstweek #my fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tarlos #userkimmy #userkourt #userjillian #userpauline #tuserpaige #usermaximus #userjilly #usernelly #tusernikki #userKatieJayne #kingrio #tuserjamie

[fairyoftbz]

𝒜𝒸𝒸𝒾𝒹𝑒𝓃𝓉 | K. Younghoon

ᵂᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ : ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ / ᵐᵉⁿˢᵗʳᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ / ˢᵗʳᵉˢˢ / ⁿᵒᵗ⁻ˢᵒ⁻ⁿⁱᶜᵉ ᵉˣ⁻ᵇᶠ ᴬ/ᴺ: ᴵ’ᵐ ˢᵘᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵐʸ ᵘᵗᵉʳᵘˢ ⁱˢ ᵖⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵇʸ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰ, ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃʳᵐ 💕🥺 ⁽ᵇᵗʷ ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵉʷ ˡᵃʸᵒᵘᵗˢ ˢᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ʷᵉⁱʳᵈ/ᵘᵍˡʸ.⁾

╰☆☆☆☆╮

The soft purrs of a cat against your chest gently woke you up, still feeling a bit sleepy and tired after the chill, gaming night you spent last night at your boyfriend’s house. Keeping your eyes closed to hopefully fall back asleep within the following seconds, you caressed Cookie’s fur slowly, the creature cuddling up further to your chest while purring like a machine.

Everything was cosy and sweet until you feel a growing pain in your lower abdomen, followed by a rush of warmth going straight to your underwear. You tensed up and opened your eyes widely, turning your head to the side before discovering in horror that you started your period a few seconds ago.

In your boyfriend’s bed. On his brand-new white sheets.

Immediately jumping out of the bed to minimise the damage, accidentally scaring the car away, you grabbed a few many tissues from the box on the bedside table and stuffed them in your panties, just for the time to pace to the bathroom. Since you had already ruined the sheets, you hoped you weren’t going to stain the carpeting. You fumbled in the bathroom cabinet and got out a small transparent box, hidden behind some men lotion and took out your hygienic products before sitting on the toilet. In a rush, you take out in the piece of furniture under the washbasin one of your boyfriend’s clean underwear, exchanging it with yours doing your business. The fabric hugging your waist was a bit loose, but it was essential until you cleaned your mess. 

The feeling of panic invaded your body when the blood was not coming off the fabric of your panties, scared that Younghoon might be mad because of what you did. Throwing the damp piece of underwear in the clothes hamper, you rushed to the bed and your eyes widened. The stains you left looked a lot more prominent on white sheets than on any other colour, the bed looked like you had just brutally stabbed someone while sleeping. 

It’s with tears in your eyes – probably sudden stress and your hormones acting up – that you started cleaning the mess, the ruffle on the bed and your sniffles waking Younghoon up.

The man on his side of the bed slowly emerged from his deep slumber due to the thuds of footsteps on the carpeted floor pacing around the bedroom. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms above his head, a weird, metallic smell forcing him to open his eyes.  Your boyfriend immediately sat up in bed, flattening his crazy bed hair before gasping at the red stains your side of the bed. You clutched a wet piece of cloth in your hand, eyes filled with terror and tears as you stared up at him. 

“Baby what happened ?” he said while getting up, worried and drowsiness laced in his voice.  “I-I…I st-stained the sheets, I’m so sorry,” your voice came out shakily as you kept on rubbing the piece of fabric on the stains, guilt and shame rushed through your veins so intensely that you couldn’t look at Younghoon in the eyes. “Y/N! Y/N. Breathe darling, it’s okay,” he said as he grabbed your hand to stop you, gently replacing a piece of hair behind your ear.  “I’m so sorry, it was an accident, I swear-“ you said as you caught your breath back, your heartbeat settling down as you noticed the reassuring, soft smile on your boyfriend’s face. 

“I know, I know, love, you don’t have to apologise. Go take a shower to wash up instead, I’ll take care of the rest.” Your boyfriend calmly said, hand caressing the back of your head. “A-Are you sure, though? I should really clean the mess I made and-” “Yes love, I am.” He kissed your cheek and gently walked you to the bathroom, getting out two clean towels before grabbing the clothes hamper. He reassured you one last time before you started taking off your clothes and hop in the shower cubicle. “Take the time you need and... easy, okay?” You hummed in response and he left to give you some privacy.

Younghoon took the sheets off the bed, alongside with your pyjamas and underwear, starting the washing machine before walking back to the bedroom. There, he opened a chest of drawers and took out one of your favourite t-shirts of his with an old, too tightly fitted pair of boxers of him and some sweatpants. While throwing those in the dryer to get them warm once you’ll be out of the shower, he chuckled when he remembered your worried, ashamed face as he took out fresh sheets. He found you cute to get worried about this kind of stuff. He wasn’t mad at all, he simply didn’t expect to get woken up this abruptly. Kisses and hugs would have made a better morning. 

But it was okay, these were the contingencies of life. Though this little accident didn’t upset him, a question ticked over in his mind: what could have possibly happened in the past to make you so frightened of committing such a small mistake as staining the sheets?

A few minutes later, when he was done fighting with the sheets to force them in place, you came out of the bathroom wrapped in the blue towel he gave you, carefully walking towards him. He paced to the laundry room and gave the clothes to you, helping you put on the t-shirt and taking care of your hair while you dealt with the bottom part. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. Are you hurting somewhere?” he asked as he gently rubbed the towel in your hair, watching you nod.  “My stomach aches and I’m slightly dizzy, but I’m fine,” you mumbled, and he sat you down, placing the towels on the edge of the bed before heading to the kitchen to prepare a hot water bottle. Lying down to ease your pain, a meow filled the silence of the bedroom as your head landed on the puffy pillow, his cat jumping on the bed and sauntered towards your figure. Giving you headbutts until you smiled and petted it, Cookie turned around, his tail caressing your face as it lied perpendicularly on your stomach. The warmth of its fur and the vibrations of the purring slightly eased not only the pain but also your heart. 

After a few minutes of mindlessly caressing the cat and thinking, you might have exaggerated your reaction when you woke up, but you didn’t know how your partner would react. Moreover, you were surprised and quite shocked at the amount of blood that had gone through your underwear and pyjamas, so it was just your honest reaction.

Your lover arrived from the kitchen, a cup of tea and a plate filled with sliced fruits displayed on a tray, the hot water bottle tucked under his arm. 

“I’m sorry for earlier, I made a fuss over nothing,” you confessed, and your boyfriend smiled as he placed the tray on the bedside table, handing you the hot water bottle. He scratched his cat behind the ears when he saw the animal on your stomach, giving you a sweet kiss on the forehead.  “It’s completely fine Y/N. See, we got rid of all the shreds of evidence!” he winked, and you giggled but stopped almost immediately, hand clutching your stomach. 

“Careful, love,” Younghoon chuckled and sat more comfortably on the bed, hand going to your cheek.  “Don’t make me laugh, then,” you whispered and smiled to each other, his cat acting all jealous and bothered by the attention he wasn't getting. His laugh slowly died down, his mouth resting in a smile as his eyes never left your face. While one of your hands rested on your belly, the other went to caress the cat, who immediately started purring again. Your eyes met your boyfriend’s, who never stopped looking at you. He looked pensive as if he wanted to sound your thoughts out. “What?” you smiled at Younghoon and he cleared his throat, sitting closer to you, carefully linking your hand in his.

“Why… why were you so close to having a mental breakdown when all of this happened?” His free hand gestured the sheets and your lower abdomen, his unsure voice giving you the impression that he was walking on eggshells. “I just… I-I didn’t know how you would react because I’ve had quite a bad experience with my ex-boyfriend in the past. And since then, I’m just scared of getting my period with my partner,” you summed up as you stared into his eyes, watching him take a deeper breath and nod. Everything was clearer now. This idea of insecurity had popped into his head, but he wanted to hear it from you, and not from his imagination. “I see… But. You know that I would and will never yell or get mad at you for this type of stuff, okay? I know periods can be pretty irregular and hard to predict, so if it happens, it happens, okay? I'm not your ex-boyfriends, whatsoever,” you nodded at his words and answered his smile before grabbing his arm to gently tug him closer to you. “Thank you, Hoonie,” you mumbled against his chest and he softly rubbed your upper-back, kissing the crown of your head. “It’s completely normal, darling, you don’t have to thank me for this. Now eat because I feel like someone is getting interested in your breakfast,” you giggled as you pulled away, watching Cookie stretching its neck out to nibble on a slice of pineapple. 

You kissed your boyfriend on the lips before taking the pineapple bite and fed it to the creature, your boyfriend placing the plate on the bedside table to prevent any other theft. Smiling as Cookie licked on your fingers, you stared up at your lover before snuggling against him, an arm around your shoulder while his back rested against the bed frame. Younghoon pressed a strawberry against your lips to force you to open your mouth, his actions making you giggle. You hastened to eat the fruit and munch on it because his cat walked to your mouth to get a bite of the fruit. The man next to you sighed and grabbed his cat before placed it on the floor, getting progressively jealous as you paid more attention to Cookie than him.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of your cat,” you giggled as his serious face confirmed your doubts, only to have him pressing another fruit against your mouth. “I just don’t like sharing what’s mine,” he stated and jolted away when you tickled him in the ribs. “Stop being so childish,” you said and grabbed the slice of apple that he was handing you between your teeth, purposefully missing his fingers by a few centimetres.  “Shut up and eat,” he tried to hide his smile while you laughed, hoisting yourself on your hands to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear that he’s only yours. Despite having your stomach aching and cramping, you were grateful to have those kinds of times with Younghoon. It enlightened the mood and you felt warm and secure, thanks to all the love and attention you brought to each other.

#the boyz #tbz #the boyz imagines #the boyz timestamp #the boyz scenarios #the boyz x reader #younghoon #kim younghoon #younghoon imagines #the boyz fluff #younghoon fluff #tbz younghoon #tbz imagines #younghoon fluff imagines

[theladyofdeath]

A Rainy Day in October {Elriel}

31 Days of Halloween: Day 7.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ Hi ! For your Fall prompts, can i request an elriel where they are stuck at one’s appartement because of a very rainy autumn day ... and like, you know , maybe there is only one bed or something 😆 - anon “

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

The rain was pouring, soaking Azriel’s hoodie as he ran from his car to the landing of the apartment complex. He tried to shake off as much water as possible as he hurried up the stairs, wondering how much the items in the large paper bag he carried remained dry. 

He had called Elain that morning, after he’d gotten the call saying that work was cancelled for the day. They were expected to start paving a back road just outside of the city, but paving in the rain was a nonexistent talent.

Which meant he got to spend the day with his girlfriend. 

He’d stopped on his way and had picked up a bottle of premade mimosa, some chicken, bacon, and cheese croissants from the deli, and a giant bag of caramel corn.

Elain’s favorite.

He knocked on the door just after ten, and waited for her to answer.

When she did, he didn’t expect her to still be in her pajamas.

He chuckled and asked, “Not getting dressed today?”

“Nope,” she said, popping her lips on the P noise. “We’re having a lazy day.”

“A lazy day, huh?” He asked, walking in and setting the bags on the floor. He immediately tugged the hoodie off, only to find that his t-shirt beneath was soaked, too. “Could that lazy day include putting my clothes in the dryer?”

Elain shook her head as she laughed quietly. “Yes, and I’ll get the sweats and t-shirt I wore home the other morning.”

The reminder of what had taken place between them only a few nights before had Elain’s cheeks heating and Azriel smirked. “Okay.”

He headed towards her laundry room and tossed his clothes in the dryer. He was unbuttoning his jeans when Elain appeared with a bundle of clothes in her arms.

“I can’t believe you made it to your door in those,” he said, nodding to the bundle in her arms as he yanked off his jeans and tossed them into the dryer before pressing start. “They swallow you.”

“Yes,” she agreed, “they do, which is why I love them.”

“That’s the only reason you love them?” he asked, amused, as he pulled the sweatpants up over his briefs.

“That,” she said, slowly, “and because they smell like you.”

“Smell like me?” he repeated, pulling his shirt over his wet hair. “Hopefully I smell good.” 

“Delicious,” she promised, and then he was charging at her, lifting her up, and tossing her over his shoulder. She laughed, bracing her open palms on his lower back. 

He carried her back to the living room, where Elain had already lit candles and taken out every single blanket she had ever bought and put them on her couch. 

“Lazy day, huh?” Azriel asked, and he dropped Elain down on the couch. 

She bounced a few times on the cushions before coming to a still. Her grin was still wide when she said, “Yes. It’s cold, it’s raining, we both have the day off, and I’m ready to eat junk food, get drunk, and watch ridiculous Halloween movies.” 

Azriel shook his head, slowly. “I knew there was a reason why I loved you.”

That was new for them, saying  I love you, and every time Azriel did, it made him feel completely and utterly alive. 

Elain’s smile softened. “One of the many reasons, I hope.”

Azriel smirked. “It’s a long list, I promise.”

He padded back over to the door and got the paper bag before bringing it back to the couch.

Elain was elated by his choice in snacks and she popped the cork off of the mimosas, drinking it straight from the bottle. They were snuggled up on the couch watching the Nightmare Before Christmas when Azriel said, “So I have a question.”

“Shoot,” she said, popping a piece of caramel corn into her mouth.

He waited for a second then said, “How would you feel about...moving in together?”

Elain froze and Azriel quickly added, “I know it’s only been a few months.”

Elain didn’t say anything, just stared at the caramel corn that stayed a few inches from her mouth, frozen in midair. 

“Please say something,” he said, quietly.

“I just… I wasn’t expecting that,” she said, laughing, softly.

“No, I know, I just…” He started rubbing the back of his neck, a usual sign that Azriel was panicking inside. “We’ve been best friends for ten years, Lainy. I’m in love with you. I have always been in love with you, since the ninth grade. I just...we’re with each other every day, anyway, you know? And, you’ve been sleeping at my place, and I’ve been sleeping here, and doesn’t it just make sense?” 

“You want to move in with me...because it makes sense?” she asked, lifting a brow.

“No,” he said, quickly. “I want to move in with you because you’re the last thing I want to see before I go to sleep and the first thing I want to see when I wake up.”

Elain’s eyes softened as she leaned back into him. “We’ll see.”

“We’ll see?” he asked, chuckling. “See on what?” 

“We know a lot about each other, Az, but we’ve never lived together,” she said, simply, taking another chug from the mimosa bottle. “I have to know what you’re going to be like to live with before I live with you.”

He knew that little smile on her lips.

She was playing with him, teasing him.

“And is there something that might be a dealbreaker that I need to know about?”

Elain pretended to think long and hard about it, which resulted in Azriel poking her in the side. She giggled, pulling one of her many blankets up over her body, and halfway over Azriel. “Leaving the toilet seat up.”

Azriel huffed a laugh. “Leaving the toilet seat up?”

“Leaving the toilet seat up,” she confirmed, nodding. “What if I had to go in the middle of the night? I mean, I wouldn’t turn the light on, because turning the light on in the middle of the night is torture. And, if you left the seat up, I’d sit down, and fall into the toilet, then I’ll be tired and mad and, disgustingly enough, probably wet from toilet water. So. Yes. Leaving the toilet seat up is a dealbreaker.” 

“Hmmm,” Azriel began, his arms around her tightening. “Alright. I guess I could follow that rule. Anything else?”

Elain sighed, tapping her chin as she thought. “Flowers. I like to be brought flowers from time to time, even in the fall and the winter. I like to have them in a vase on the table, year round.” 

Azriel tried to control his spreading grin. “Alright, I can do that.”

“Are you remembering all of this?” she asked.

“Yes,” he promised. “Anything else?” 

She looked up at him. “You have to promise to always kiss me goodnight.” 

“Always?”

“Always.”

“Every night?”

“Every single one.”

“And if I don’t?” he asked, unable to stop that spreading grin. 

Elain shrugged, pressing her lips together, trying to look serious and so miserably failing. “I’m kicking you out.”

“Well then I guess I’ll have to make sure I remember to do that,” he paused, pressing a kiss to her lips. “Every.” Kiss. “Single.” Kiss. “Night.”

The kiss lasted longer this time. But when Elain pulled back, her brown eyes were sparkling. “If you can agree to those terms, I guess we can move in together.”

He smirked. “Who’s apartment will we live in?”

“Oh, this one,” she said, without any hesitation. “No doubt.”

Azriel snorted. “I was hoping you’d say that.” 

It was true that his studio apartment didn’t have much room, even though he did love the aesthetic of it. Elain’s was practical. She had her bedroom - their bedroom - and then her spare room, along with a nice, big bathroom and a kitchen that had a giant island in the middle of it.

Not to mention the massive living room and outside balcony. 

His studio apartment was about as big as Elain’s kitchen, alone. 

“How about a pet? Are we getting a pet, if I move in?” Azriel asked. 

“A pet?” Elain hummed. “Maybe a cat. I like cats. You like cats.” 

“I do like cats,” Azriel agreed. “I wouldn’t mind a little black kitten.”

“An all black cat?” Elain asked. “They say they’re bad luck, you know.”

“They’re spooky, I like spooky,” Azriel argued, lightly. 

“Spooky,” Elain mused, trailing her fingers up and down his jaw. “I guess I can do spooky, if it means I get my flowers.”

“I’ll always get you flowers. And I’ll cook you dinner when you’ve had a long day.” He caught her hand and pressed kisses to her fingertips. “We can go on those god awful early morning hikes you love so much.”

“I love early morning hikes,” she muttered.

“I know,” he said, kissing her, softly. “And I’ll gladly go with you.” Even though he loathed the mornings.

“What else?” She breathed. 

“I’ll rub your back after work,” he promised. “And, I’ll clean, and do the laundry. I’m very good at folding clothes.”

Elain laughed, breathily. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Azriel whispered. “I’ll also bring the mail in every day and make sure the toilet paper and shampoo are always stocked.”

Elain grinned, kissing him, yet again. “Gods, you’re the perfect roommate.”

“I know,” he agreed, making Elain laugh. “Is that a yes, then?”

Elain pulled back and took his face into her hands. “Of course it’s a yes.”

As the rain continued to beat on the windows, Azriel showed Elain many, many more ways he could be her perfect roommate.

#elriel #acotar #31 days of halloween #shacmc

[sylvie-writes]

The Hoodie

absolute fluff my friends...

“Hey Babe, you almost ready?” The deep voice of your darling husband called out from the stairwell.

You were in the shared bedroom for almost two hours now, packing for your road trip, which was happening in a little over half an hour. It may not have been in your best interest to pack so last minute, but procrastinating seemed like the right thing to do yesterday when you were binging your favorite show.

“Almost done!” As you zipped the heavy duffel bag, which laid on the bed, brisk footsteps came up the stairs and into the bedroom. Two large hands covered your own, as you reached for the handles of the bag.

“I got it, just meet me downstairs when you are ready. Dodger is already in the car.” Chris left a small but loving peck to your temple before heading out of the room.

Chris has finally taken some time off, which meant you both were gonna make a road trip to Massachusetts. Of course you loved his family, as they loved you too, his sisters especially. Scott would sometimes tag along too, but he was already there, meaning it would be just you, Chris, and Dodger. Sure, it may have been more convenient to fly but where’s the fun in convenience?

The road trip itself seemed to be tradition. Ever since you had known Chris, even before marriage, you would both go on the long, yet sightful, road trip to his hometown. No matter how repetitious the path was, it never ceased to amaze you. Sure, there were times when it would be nothing but trees or gravel, but no doubt, Chris would keep you entertained with his colorful conversations and jokes.

With every road trip, comes comfy clothing. For Chris it was always sweatpants and a t-shirt, the same going for you too, except for one thing. A hoodie. To be specific one your husband had given you many years ago when you were dating. Ok, so maybe the hoodie was like a dress on you, but it was so comfortable! The first time Chris had worn it, was during a family barbecue and that exact night you ended up sleeping in it. What can I say? That man would do anything for you.

Now, here you were, trying to find that exact hoodie which you have taken with you every time. Albeit a very long trip, the hoodie never failed to put you at comfort. At times, the warmth of the hoodie (and your husband’s hand interlocked with your own) could always put you to sleep.

Rummaging through the many dresser drawers, you managed to find everything but the hoodie. Ironically, you had washed it the other day knowing you were going on this road trip. In truth, it was the only preparation you did in advance.

Thinking back and retracing your steps, you thought to yourself. “Did I take it out of the dryer?” You could have sworn you did, but to make sure, you headed straight to the laundry room. Making your way down, you could see Dodger sticking his face out the car window, Chris presumably inside. All the bags were already in the car, all that was left was you and your to-be-found hoodie.

Upon opening the laundry door, you saw the dryer door ajar, grabbing it to reveal an empty dryer barrel. “Ok, where could it be!?” Groaning in frustration, both of your hands flew to the sides of your head to lean on the machine. Thinking again for the hundredth time, you specifically remember folding and putting away your laundry. Deep in thought, you racked your brain for any possible errors.

“Looking for this?” Shooting up and around, you saw your husband with a cheeky grin holding up a folded Patriots hoodie.

“Yes! Where was it?” You threw your arms around his neck and he lightly chuckled. Pulling back, you grabbed the hoodie and put it on over your t-shirt and shorts.

“I may or may not have taken it from your drawer this morning.”

Your eyes grew wide and you playfully smacked his chest.

“Christopher Robert Evans! Explain!” As you crossed your arms over your chest, Chris just laughed.

“This isn’t funny, Mister! I was searching forever for this thing!”

He threw his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry babe, I was just trying to see if you would notice or not. Apparently you do love that thing as much as you say you do.” He couldn’t stop laughing as he explained. It was like the funniest thing in the world to him, seeing you all upset over the smallest thing.

“What? Is someone jealous of a sweatshirt?” You removed your arms from your chest, now placing your hands on your hips.

“No, I was just trying to see how much you love me.” Chris walked a little closer, smiling down at me.

Giving him a small and sweet kiss, I retorted.

“Unfortunately, I love you so much. Even when you do stupid stuff like this.”

Chris just let out a small chuckle.

“You know you love me.”

Returning the feeling, you jokingly rolled your eyes. “I do.”

“C’mon, Dodge is waiting for us. We don’t want him to drive away on us, now do we?”

Chris reached for your hoodie-cladded hand, pulling you gently beside him and to the car.

Ever the gentleman he is, Chris opened the passenger door for you to get in. Once settled in your seat, he leaned in to kiss you.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, bubs.”

——————————————————————————

(My first story on tumblr, here we go! It was terrible, I know.)

#chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans x y/n #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans drabble

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

R U Mine? - Kaminari Denki

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Pairing: Kaminari Denki / F!reader Rating: 16+ Warnings: Profanity, recreational drug use Words: 3,504 AN: Hi this is the first BNHA fic I’ve ever written and published on the internet so uh...hi there. This is part of a collab put together by the wonderful @heroheads​ ❤️❤️❤️ Masterlist for the collab is HERE.

Buy me a KoFi?

-----

Sometimes it astounded you how dumb Denki Kaminari could be. 

He wasn’t a complete moron. At least, not all the time. Sometimes he could be really smart and insightful. He was competent when it came to using his quirk when it counted. He’d even surprised you in English class occasionally when he answered a question correctly about what you were reading.

This time, though, it was not one of his shining moments.

You were lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it) enough to share a wall with the electric hero in the UA dorms. He was usually decent enough to be quiet. Sometimes you could hear music through the wall, but it was never loud enough to complain about. He didn’t slam his door like Bakugou or stand creepily outside your room like Mineta. He was a decent neighbor and it wasn’t so bad that you’d ended up next to him.

However, he did have one habit that made you roll your eyes, and on that boring Saturday night at one in the morning, you were unsurprised to catch a whiff of something pungent wafting underneath your closed bedroom door.

You didn’t care that Denki smoked weed. You did too, occasionally. The issue was that the dumbass liked to take bong rips in the middle of his dorm room without shoving a towel under the door or opening a window. He was just asking to get caught and chucked right out of the hero program at this rate. 

You sighed, closing the book you’d been reading and standing from your bed. If he wasn’t going to try and prevent himself from getting caught, you had to take matters into your own hands. He was your friend, and that on top of the fact that you were harboring less than platonic feelings for him, made it feel like you had to help him. This wasn’t the first time you’d had to warn him, and you knew he probably didn’t even realize that he was stinking up the entire floor. Again.

Your slippers were quiet on the linoleum flooring as you stepped into the hallway, the smell of marijuana growing stronger as you walked next door. You knocked twice, stepping back and waiting as you heard Denki mutter quietly, knowing he was working on clearing up what he was doing in case you were a teacher, or even worse, Iida.

“If you don’t think Aizawa knows what weed smells like, Denks, then you’re stupider than I thought.” You said loud enough for him to hear you, holding back a giggle when you heard him curse to himself.

The door cracked open a moment later, bloodshot yellow eyes peering at you through the opening. “What’s the password?”

“Listen to me, derp face,” you said fondly, ignoring his request. “You need a towel under the door or a spoof if you’re going to keep insisting on hotboxing your room.” You waved your arm in front of your face as remnants of smoke poured into the hallway.

“A what? And that’s not the password.” He frowned, squinting at you.

“It’s takoyaki.” You finally conceded, rolling your eyes when he opened the door wider and grinned. 

“Correct. You may enter.”

“God, I could blindfold you with a piece of dental floss right now, you fucking stoner.” You stayed put, folding your arms over your chest. “Do you really not know what a spoof is?”

“No?” Your yellow-haired friend blinked at you stupidly, and you sighed.

“Do me a favor, just don’t smoke anything for a few and open the balcony doors or something. Give me 10 minutes, I’ll be right back.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, turning and walking towards the elevators, and pressing the button. 

“What are you doing?” He whispered loudly at you from down the hallway.

“Saving your life,” You said cryptically as the elevator doors slid open. You stepped inside, disappearing from his view and shaking your head. 

--

You walked out of the elevator and into the common area, rolling your eyes at the sight before you.

Bakugou, Kirishima, and Sero were all fast asleep on one couch. Sero had his head tilted back, soft snores coming from his parted mouth. Beside him, Kirishima was snuggled against Bakugou’s chest, the blond’s head leaning against his with his arm wrapped snugly around his waist. Mina and Kyoka were on the other couch, both fast asleep as well. The TV was on, the tail end of a movie you recognized still playing, your friends succumbing to sleep before they could finish watching.

You padded by them quietly, moving towards the kitchen. You headed straight for the counter, plucking the roll of paper towels off it’s holder and then turning to find the kitchen scissors. There was a lot more paper left on the roll than you’d been hoping, but you shrugged, using the scissors to cut the cardboard roll out of the middle. You knew there would be questions later, but you decided you didn’t care, and would probably just act like you had no idea what happened.

Cardboard roll in hand, you made one more trip to the laundry room, grabbing a handful of dryer sheets and shoving them in the pocket of your sweatpants, before heading to the elevator again. You had half a mind to wake your friends, but decided the less people upstairs in their rooms meant the less people to complain about Denki and his foul smelling habit.

One last stop in your room had you searching for a hair elastic, and then you were back at Denki’s door, knocking again. You sniffed the air, noticing the smell had dissipated slightly. It didn’t take long for him to answer, his eyes still half lidded as he smiled at you.

“Welcome back, Sparky.” He giggled. “Miss me?”

“So much. Every moment I was gone felt like an eternity, Denks.” You deadpanned, pushing past him and smacking him over the head with the cardboard roll as you walked by. 

“I knew you were into me. Sero owes me a thousand yen.” He chuckled, rubbing at his head idly and closing the door behind you. 

You didn’t correct him, walking further into the room and surveying the area. Walking over to the balcony doors, you pulled them shut and pulled the dark zebra print curtains closed. “Don’t you have any music you can play?”

“Trying to set the mood? I can vibe with that.” He shuffled over to his Bluetooth speaker and hit the button, pulling out his phone. 

“If you put on Bob Marley I’m leaving.” You threatened.

“No Marley? Too stereotypical, huh?” He quirked an eyebrow as you sat on his bed, pulling the dryer sheets from your pocket. “What’s that for?”

“Shush, let me work. Put on some Arctic Monkeys or something and get over here.” You instructed.

“Bossy.” He grumbled, but he had an easy smile as he clicked around on his screen, the beginning notes of R U Mine? playing from the speaker.

When he was settled beside you, you got to work. “Listen, I’m going to show you how to make this once, and you can keep it. Just make sure you switch out the dryer sheets occasionally to keep it fresh.”

“Okay, but what is it?” He asked, confused, picking up one of the sheets and rubbing it between his fingers. 

“It’s called a spoof.” You explained, settling more comfortably. “Alright, so you take a cardboard roll like this one,” You held it up to show him. “Then you fold the dryer sheet over like this to cover the hole on one end.” You demonstrated, holding the edges around the tube. You used your teeth to pull the elastic off your wrist and over your hand, using it to secure the dryer sheet onto the tube. “Got it so far?”

Denki just nodded.

“Okay, then you take the rest of the sheets and shove them into the other side.” You flipped the tube, taking the remaining sheets and separating them before shoving them into the tube as far as they would go. “Where’s your bong?”

Denki hopped up, pulling the bong from its hiding place on the far side of his dresser. He brought it over to you, reaching into his pocket to hand you a lighter.

You dropped the tube beside you, shifting on the bed until your back was leaning against the wall, your legs stretched out in front of you. You put your mouth on the end of the glass, one hand hovering near the bowl as you flicked the lighter and lit the bud that was nestled inside it. The embers flared as you breathed in, water bubbling quietly as the tube filled with smoke. When you were ready, you lifted the bowl from the glass to clear it, the smoke traveling up the glass tube and into your lungs.

Denki watched with rapt attention as you sat back, holding the smoke in your lungs for a moment. You dropped the lighter and moved your hand to find the cardboard tube you’d constructed. Keeping eye contact with him, you moved the open end of the cardboard to your lips and blew the smoke into it. 

The smoke came out the other side, smelling a little less like weed, and a lot more like fresh laundry.

“Holy shit.” Denki breathed, eyes wide. “That’s…”

“Now you try.” You held out the bong to him and he took it, shifting to sit close beside you, his arm brushing against yours, and his legs straightened out in front of him as well. You searched for the lighter on his blanket and gave it to him, sitting back to watch. 

His attention moved to what he was doing, repeating the same steps. You tried not to watch as he breathed in, his chest moving as his lungs expanded and he cleared the glass. You held out to spoof and he took it, putting it to his lips and blowing the smoke through it, white tendrils whisping out the other side and filling the room with the smell of clean spring. 

The room was quiet except for the music as you both watched the smoke dissipate. He turned to look over at you again, his smile contagious.

“I have two things to say.” He started, swallowing thickly. “First of all, you’re a genius. Like seriously? Holy fuck. Where did you learn that?”

You shrugged. “I’ve picked up some tricks I guess.”

“Damn.” He licked his lips, offering the bong back to you. “Second of all, I don’t know why, but watching you hit that was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I should not be turned on as much as I am right now.”

You blushed. “Denki, really? Don’t-“ You took it from him, poking at the ash in the bowl idly, wanting to look anywhere but at him.

“I thought we were a great team in class already, but this just adds a whole other level on top of that.” He giggled. “What would I do without you?”

He was right, you were a great team. Your quirks perfectly complemented each other. Denki could conjure electricity and wield it, although sloppily. He wasn’t able to direct it well without his point and shoot, and had issues with overloading himself if he went too hard. 

You could wield electricity too, but you couldn’t create it. You needed a source, which was why your costume came with a taser. You didn’t need it with Denki around, however. He could zap you and give you what you needed, and then you could direct it wherever you pleased. When he charged up beside you, you could take the excess energy from him and keep him from making himself stupid. The two of you were a force to be reckoned with in class, and you always talked about the possibility of working together once you graduated.

“You’d probably be kicked out of here.” You joked, taking the lighter from his outstretched hand. “If Aizawa catches you, you’re toast.”

“I know, I wasn’t thinking. Could you smell it in your room?” He sighed, letting his head hit the wall behind him.

“Yeah, dude. It was pretty bad. You’re lucky half the class is downstairs and passed out on the couch.” You took another hit, reaching out blindly for the spoof when you had the smoke in your lungs. You blushed when your hand grazed against his in your search, nearly choking. You managed to get it to your lips before you coughed it out, letting your head thump back against the wall.

“Bakugou and Kiri cuddling again?” He asked, taking the bong back when you held it out towards him.

You snorted. “Of course.” It was no secret in your group of friends that those two were in love with each other. The betting pool was getting competitive, all of you waiting for the moment that Katsuki got his head out of his ass and finally made the sturdy hero his boyfriend.

Denki took a hit, using the spoof again, before leaning down and pushing his finger into the bowl. “It’s cashed. You want more?” 

You shook your head. “Nah, I’m okay.”

He hummed, shuffling off the bed to hide the bong again, opening a drawer and shoving the spoof inside. 

You didn’t want to smoke and run, but you didn’t want to overstay your welcome either, so you began shuffling off the bed as well.

“You leaving?” He asked, pouting when he turned around.

You blushed. “I mean, I can stay if you want. I wasn’t doing anything important anyway. I just kind of barged in here to begin with so-”

“Dude, no! I always want you to hang.” He said shyly, rubbing at the back of his neck. “We don’t get to hang out enough, just the two of us. We’ve always got the Bakusquad around.”

He was right, so you just nodded, biting your lip. You were feeling floaty, so it made the anxiety of hanging out with Denki without your other friends fade to the background.

“Great!” He grinned, walking over and pulling the curtain back, opening the balcony door to filter air out the room. He clicked on the lamp on his desk across from the bed, and then shuffled over to hit the switch on the wall, turning off the main light, casting the room into near darkness. You watched as he moved back towards you and crawled onto the bed beside you and squirmed until his head was resting on his pillow. “Come up here.”

You turned, laying down beside him on your back, the music still playing in the background. Your eyes caught the plastic glow in the dark stars he had stuck to the ceiling above the bed. “Speaking of the Bakusquad, what were you saying about Sero owing you a a thousand yen?”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Well...I kind of told him that I thought you might have a thing for me.”

You turned to look at him, feeling your face heat up. He looked embarrassed, his gaze locked on the fake green stars. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean, I wasn’t serious. I never thought you’d ever think about me that way, which is kind of how the conversation started anyway.” He turned to meet your eyes finally, shrugging.

You hummed. “Would that be a bad thing though?” You wondered out loud.

“Would it be a bad thing if you had a crush on me?” His eyes widened slightly. “No, I think it would be a good thing.”

“Oh.” You were both quiet, staring at each other.

“Wait, do you?” He turned a little so he was facing you fully. “Be honest.”

You turned on your side as well. “Well, I mean…” You were suddenly nervous. He said it would be a good thing though, and you wanted to know exactly what he meant by that. You sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

He blinked a few times, like his brain was trying to catch up to the conversation. “You like me?”

“Denki, you are making this so awkward right now. Yes, I do. Happy?” You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. His lack of positive reaction was not helping.

“Shit.” He whispered. You studied his facial expression, watching as his tongue slipped out of his mouth to wet his lips.

“If I just ruined everything just tell me and I’ll go back to my room and never come out again.” You mumbled, fully prepared to slip backwards off the mattress and hide forever.

He didn’t reply, his hand moving to your face, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. You shivered involuntarily at the contact. “You didn’t ruin anything. I think it just makes this easier.”

“Wha-” You started to ask, fully confused. You were cut off when Denki leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed, your mouth parting with a small gasp. Your hands fisted into the front of his t-shirt and pulled him closer on their own volition, your body reacting without a second thought. 

He hummed, his fingers threading into your hair as he shuffled closer, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. He pulled back slowly to breathe, his nose brushing against yours, his breath warm and mixing with yours. “This okay?”

“Mmm.” Your head felt fuzzy, but you felt incredible. This was a moment you’d thought of since your first year at UA. Denki had been one of your first friends at school, you’d been hanging onto your crush on him ever since, settling for spending time with him as friends, too afraid to do anything about it. You were used to the constant teasing from your squad about the two of you, and Mina’s nagging about when you were going to man up and make a move. It was hard to focus on any of that when he was here in front of you, laying on his bed, his hand moving down to grasp your hip and pull you impossibly close, your bottom lip between his teeth.

When he pulled away again, his golden eyes were bright, his lips quirking up into a smile. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, your thoughts moving slowly. You kind of regretted smoking as much as you did, afraid you were imagining this moment. “I didn’t even know you wanted to do that.”

He groaned. “I know. I’m the worst. I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way and then I just…”

“So what you’re saying is you like me too?” You asked, realizing it was probably a stupid question, but wanting to make sure you were on the same page.

“Yeah, like, a lot.” He snorted. “We are bad at this.”

“So bad.” You sighed. “I’m just really baked and kind of worried I’m dreaming.”

“Not a dream. Unless we’re having the same dream, which would be kind of freaky.” He looked thoughtful for a second. “That would be a fucked up quirk huh? Like, if you could make people have the same dreams and then they wake up and realize it was all a lie?”

“This is the most Denki thing ever.” You giggled. He looked confused so you continued. “I just mean that you got me here, in your room, on your bed, fully ready to make out until we fall asleep, and you’re going on a tangent thinking about weird dream quirks.”

He nodded solemnly. “Unfortunately, you’re right. Get used to it, I’m not always the smartest.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not complaining. Get over here, discount Pikachu.” You pulled him by his shirt and kissed him again, smiling against his lips when he grunted in surprise. You let your hands travel to his back, nails raking lightly against his shirt, legs tangled together. He shivered and gripped your hips tighter. You felt a jolt of electricity from his fingers surge through you.

He pulled back with a chuckle. “Guess we’re lucky you can absorb my electricity, huh?” You hummed, smirking at him. “You better be careful. If you charge me up too much there’s no telling what I’ll do to you.”

“Oh my god that’s so hot.” He groaned, kissing you again. “Seriously, fuck.”

“Maybe I should go back to my room,” you said in between presses of his lips against yours. “Don’t want to start something we can’t finish anyway.”

“What? No, don’t go.” He pouted. “You can’t leave me by myself for too long, you’ve seen what happens!” His fingers moved a piece of your hair from your face, his expression twisting into a suggestive grin. “Plus, who says we won’t finish?”

You huffed, rolling away from him. “That’s right, when left alone you smoke out your room like a dumbass. How could I forget.”

“But that won’t happen anymore, ‘cause I’ve got you to make sure I don’t fuck up.” He grinned, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“Yeah, you do.”

#denki kaminari #kaminari denki #denki kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #kingexpl0sionmurder writes #mha #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader

[nalgenewhore]

Too Late To Turn Back Now - Seven

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

an: mmm things get a lil steamy 🔥😳👀

+*+*+*+*+*+*

When they got back home, Lorcan didn’t put her down until he got to their bathroom. Even then, he kept her lofted with an arm as he turned on the shower and left her to it, hanging a towel on the heated rack.

He couldn’t find her sweats and hoodie and he highly doubted she would appreciate it if he went through her stuff, so he grabbed a pair of his sweatpants and an old hoodie from high school, jogging down to the laundry room and tossing them in the dryer.

By the time he got back, the shower was still running and he cracked the door open, holding out the clothes. “El?”

“Yeah?”

“I got you some dry clothes when you’re ready.”

“Ok. One sec.” The water stopped and he heard the glass door open, small feet padding across the tiles to the towel rack. She moaned softly, “Is this thing heated?”

Lorcan chuckled, “Yeah? What about it?”

“That’s bougie.” Her face peaked through the crack as she took the clothes from him, grinning as she hugged them to her chest. “Did you put these in the dryer for me?”

Lorcan’s cheeks reddened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “…yeah.”

“I knew you were a softie.” Her eyes were soft, her smile missing the sharp edge of a teasing smile. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get your cute ass dressed.”

“Sir, yes, sir.”

He just rolled his eyes and walked away to the balcony and looked down as the other boat approached. He recognized Aelin with the twins walking up the boardwalk first and then Nehemia and Odette at the rear.

Aelin and Aneha were a terrifying duo and Aelin pointed up at him before turning, pretending to make out with someone. Aneha roared in laughter, holding her stomach as she bent over, and he flipped the two of them off. He was about to yell something rude and vulgar and most likely graphically threatening when Elide padded out onto the balcony, looking down as she rolled down the waistband of his sweats so that they wouldn’t fall to her feet. 

Lorcan turned to look at her, something melting as his heart fluttered as she walked up to his side and peered down at the ground, waving at Aelin and Aneha, laughing loudly. “Don’t encourage them,” he said. Elide smirked, her teeth still chattering slightly. “Are you still cold?”

“A bit, it’s not bad though.”

He frowned and threw her over his shoulder without warning, chuckling darkly at her shriek. Lorcan carried her to the bed and tossed her down on the mattress. When she landed abruptly, a soft grunt was pulled from her lips as she glared up at him. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I thought you would’ve figured it out by now,” Lorcan said mildly, pulling the duvet back and tucking it around her. “I’ve never been nice.”

Elide rose a brow, “You’re fussing.”

“I am not,” he hissed as he unfolded a quilt and spread it over her. “I’ll be right back.”

“Mmkay. Bye-bye,” she sang-sung, snuggling down into the pile of pillows.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide was asleep when he walked back in, a mug of tea in hand. Lorcan watched her for a few moments, standing still in the doorway as someone cleared their throat and he looked over his shoulder, seeing Fenrys and Rowan standing there. “Hey. Can we talk?”

He sighed through his nose, not ready to have another argument about this. “Fine.” Lorcan kept the mug in his hands as he closed the door, keeping it open a smidge. “Out with it.”

Rowan winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.”

“Did V and Con make you do this?”

Fenrys shook his head and remorse shone in his eyes. “Nah, man. We were wrong to not give you guys a chance. I guess ‘cause you were coming back up and Ess moved back and everything… we kinda thought you guys might start up again.”

Lorcan groaned, “Hellas, man, Ess and I are long over. And not just because we broke up, I mean… we were kids, alright? We wouldn’t have worked out in the long run and we both would’ve felt stuck. I’d never want to do that to her. I’m truly happy with Elide.”

Rowan nodded and shared a look with Fenrys. “We’re sorry. We kinda realized it was real shit last night. She couldn’t stop looking at you and, like, wanted to hear every story about you. Where’s she at right now? We owe her an apology too.”

Lorcan glanced back into the room, “She’s asleep. I took a turn too fast in the boat and she fell in. You can talk tomorrow.”

“Ok. Um, are we good, then?”

Lorcan smiled and nodded, dapping the two of them up, “Yeah, you’re good. I’ll see you all tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll let you get back to your girl. Bye,” Fenrys said, his eyes lighter as they turned and walked back down the hallway.

Lorcan walked into the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him. He looked up at Elide, finding her awake and looking at him with saddened eyes. “What’s wrong, E?”

“Everything you said on the boat is true, you know,” she said, her voice small. “I am selfish and I don’t think about others.”

He crossed the room and handed her the mug, “Drink. You’ll get warmer.”

Elide carefully took it and blew on the top, sipping slowly and sighing. She patted the mattress beside her. “Sit.” Lorcan obliged her and crawled under the blankets, waiting for her to talk again. “Vaughan told me about your dad and growing up on the reserve.”

“He did?”

“Yes. And… I’m sorry for shutting down your questions the other night. I owe you answers.” Elide drank from her mug and then put it on the nightstand. “The story I used for your proposal is how my dad asked my mom. I would beg him to tell me it every night before bed.” She chuckled tearfully, looking down at her hand, “The ring is my mother’s. I managed to hide it all those years after they died - my uncle got custody.”

“The one you made drinks for?” Lorcan asked quietly, gently reaching out and taking her hand in his. He pressed soft kisses to each of her fingertips before dropping their joined hands in his lap and playing with her slim fingers, tracing the elegance of her hands. 

“Mm-hmm. He was in charge of the main kingpin’s money and all of his… friends came around a lot, so he made me learn how to serve them. One night,” she shuddered, reaching down to trace the scar on her ankle, “when I was maybe eleven or twelve, they were all drunk and he let one of his friends take me into a room.” Her eyes filled with tears and they fell down her cheeks as she continued, not noticing how still and horrified Lorcan had become. “He grabbed me and forced me down and I bit his hand. He threw me into the basement and smashed my ankle with a hammer.”

Lorcan pulled her into his lap, holding her close. He cupped the back of her head, just holding her as she told him, her voice breaking, “My uncle said that since it was my fault it broke, he wouldn’t take me to the hospital.” Lorcan’s heart shattered into a million pieces right then and there as rage coursed through his veins and he had to remind himself that Elide was there, in his arms, and safe. She was safe. “That’s why I went to law school. I didn’t want any other kids like me growing up with people like him.” Resting her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him, her cheeks wet.

“I don’t know what to say.”

Elide shook her head, “You don’t have to. Just be here with me. Say you won’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, settling down under the covers. “Wanna watch a movie?”

“You choose,” she whispered, her eyes already falling shut as she flipped the hood of his hoodie over her head. Elide shifted, lying down next to him and hitching her leg over his hip, an arm on his chest and the other folded and wedged between them. She rested her head on the soft hollow of his shoulder, her fingers toying with the silver chain around his neck. “I like Bambi.”

“Oh gods, I’m gonna cry if we watch it, princess.”

She laughed and pressed her lips against his chest, not quite a kiss – just a gentle touch, a reassurance to her that he was still there.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide had fallen asleep after watching the first ten minutes of Bambi and when she roused again, it was dark outside and the TV was black. She had been moved in her sleep. Lorcan was sitting up against the headboard and she was in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, her knees outside either hip.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that he had one hand splayed across her lower back and in the other he held his phone. 

Slowly, she lifted her face from where it was buried in his neck and sat up straight, holding her face centimetres from his. 

He flicked his eyes to her, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Hey, you.”

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice scratchy and hoarse from disuse. “Whatcha looking at?”

“Ae sent me songs for the first dance. I like this one,” Lorcan tapped on the screen and music poured from speakers on either side of the bed, bright violins with simple hi-hat drum beats. They listened in silence as Too Late To Turn Back Now played.

The gentle music was accompanied by smooth, emotion-stirring voices that seemed to make the genre. Elide listened to the lyrics, telling herself it didn’t mean anything that Lorcan liked this one – he most likely wasn’t even thinking about the lyrics.

As the song came to an end, she whispered, “I like it. But…”

“What?”

“I don’t know how to dance.”

Elide whined in the back of her throat as Lorcan shifted and stood up, holding a hand out to her. “C’mere.”

Smiling, she took his hand and he easily pulled her to him, her free hand resting on his shoulder. He looked down at her, his face open as he settled his hand on her waist and gently led her through the steps. “We don’t have any music, Lorcan.”

Lorcan spun her under his arm and began to sing the same song, his lovely baritone carrying them through the dance. Every time she stumbled, he caught her, just like he promised he always would. His singing melted into humming as he dipped her. Frozen in one perfect moment, they stared into each other’s eyes, unbridled emotion brimming in their dark irises.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, wasn’t sure of anything as their lips touched and her mind blanked. Lorcan pulled away first, the tips of their noses brushing together as he tracked something in her eyes. Slowly, he stood up straight, pulling their joined hands to the middle of his chest. Elide rose on her tiptoes, her free hand resting on his ribcage as he cupped the back of her head, no words exchanged between them as they kissed again.

It was slow and soft, the way their lips moved together. Her heart filled with something she couldn’t describe while Lorcan parted her lips with the tip of his tongue. Elide gasped softly into his mouth at the first touch of his tongue against hers and kissed him harder, “More.”

He huffed a laugh against her lips and let her hand fall in favour of grabbing her waist and lifting her up, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as she threaded her hands into his hair. “Bed,” she whispered, tugging on the inky strands. His hands slid under her thighs, holding her up.

Lorcan made himself pull back once more, almost ready to fall to the ground to worship her for the rest of his days as he looked up at her, swallowing once, “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she breathed, kissing him again as he walked them to the bed, gentle as he laid her down amidst the blankets and pillows. Elide read the look in his eyes, something warm pooling in her core at the promises held in the onyx irises. “I want this. I need this. You.”

A wicked grin spread over his lips as she pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him up. Her eyes locked on his as she pulled his hoodie up over her head and threw it to the side, not caring where it landed. She bit her lip as his jaw slackened and her back arched under his hungry gaze.

She took her time undressing, until she was bare beneath him, smooth skin and sinful curves bared for him to see. A large hand slid down her side, rough calluses catching on her skin. Lorcan dipped his head, his lips travelling across her flesh. He let his lips part to taste her, murmuring, “Beautiful.”

The word curled and settled in the depths of her guarded heart, sending a whole warmth flowing through her being. Soft sighs and moans spilled from her throat as Lorcan traced her body with his lips and tongue and teeth. His hands and the feeling of his silky hair in her fingers grounded her when the pressure in her bones grew and grew. She crashed into bliss when he looked up at her through his lashes, settled between her legs, forgetting she wasn’t just a feeling as he pleasured her. 

Rising above her, running his hands down her sides in soothing motions to bring her down again, Lorcan’s gaze was heavy and heated, their lips greedy as they kissed.

Elide could feel his arousal pressed against the inseam of her thigh and moaned, reaching down between their bodies to wrap her hand around his length. She smiled proudly when he swore into her mouth and bowed his head, watching her as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his sweats and tugged them down. A whine formed in the back of her throat when he didn’t move an inch. “Lorcan.”

Lorcan grinned at her neediness and helped her pull his clothes from his body until they laid bare together. Elide squeezed her thighs around him, indicating she wanted to switch. He rolled them, looking up at her with something heavy and too big for the two of them.

Sitting up, he kissed her as she lined herself up with him and sunk down, her eyes fluttering as he filled her. Lorcan stayed still, panting at the feeling of her surrounding him, waiting for her to move.

“Oh,” she moaned as she moved up and down on him. His chest was soon a map of crescent nail marks and red scratches that stood out against his brown skin.

Lorcan’s hands slid down her torso, guiding the rolling movements of her hips. He begged her, whispering onto the slick skin of her neck, “Don’t stop.”

The room was soon filled with desperate sounds and voices, pleading with each other as they chased their release. They wrapped their arms around each other, pressing into each other and still, the need to hold the other closer and closer was barely satisfied.

Lorcan found his release first, his lips parted as he shuddered beneath her. He cupped the side of her neck as he kissed her, whispering to her, “Let go, princess.”

This time, when she fell, she was not scared.

 +*+*+*+*+*+*

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“My favourite fruit is mango,” he replied, speaking into the soft skin of her belly, his arms wrapped around her thighs. Elide huffed, her hands stopping their path in his hair. He whined, looking up at her, eyes wide and begging, full lips twisted into a pout.

She rolled her eyes and continued, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Ah-ah, you didn’t set any guidelines. Your turn. Tell me something.”

“I went into the bathroom and cried after Cairn called me a cold-hearted, crippled bitch,” she whispered, the tightness of her heart easing when Lorcan dusted sweet kisses over whichever patch of skin he could find, the t-shirt of his that she wore riding up as he moved upwards, his teeth grazing the skin of her chest. “Your turn.”

“I hate Cairn.” She laughed and he kissed her, wanting to taste the joyful sound. “Tell me about your tattoos.”

She nipped his bottom lip, soothing over the slight sting with a flick of her tongue. Turning over onto her stomach, Elide motioned for him to sit up and push her shirt up, until the mysterious ink was revealed. It was beautifully done, the wyvern so detailed he got shivers just looking at it. Reaching out, he trailed his fingertips almost reverently over the artwork as she opened her mouth, telling him what the ancient letters down her spine said and how she honoured her parents with the mountains and beast. 

The night passed them by as they spoke quietly, baring their souls to each other in each word, each kiss, each touch - each movement - designed to bring the other pleasure until they tumbled into a deep slumber. They didn’t notice the sun rising over them, their bodies entwined like skeins of silk.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

@mythicaitt @tinywolfofeyllwe @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @westofmoon @empire-of-wildfire @rhysands-highlady @city-of-fae @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tangledraysofsunshine @ttakeitbacknoww @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere e @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @superspiritfestival @yikesitsmaddie @flowerspringsea @queen-of-glass @sleeping-and-books s @b00kworm @bat-wing-rhys @poisonous00 @empress-ofbloodshed @feyrethedarklady @gorl-power @keshavomit @ifinallygavein @rosegoldannie @pilesoffriles @julemmaes​ let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tag list

#too late to turn back now #tlttbn chapter seven #the proposal au #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #isa writes #nalgenewhore

[sinner-as-saint]

Longing

(Post Endgame) Bucky x Reader

Requested by Anon.

 “Hi hun so could you please do a bucky reader where you borrow his sweater and then he walks past your room and over sees you masturbating and you are wearing his sweater and he gets so turned on??? Xxx”

 Themes: masturbating, smut, dirty talk

 A/N: I hope I did well, Anon. ILY! 

  “Hey Buck! Say, can I borrow a sweater?” you asked, walking into the kitchen.

Bucky looked up from his enormous cup of coffee and simply nodded, flashing you a smile.

 “You steal all my clothes. Why?” he asked, not really caring why you did so; he just wanted to talk to you.

He noticed you blushed right after he questioned you. It was no secret that you did, indeed, steal the soldier’s clothes – mainly sweaters and hoodies. He caught you doing the laundry once, and while you were getting the clothes out of the dryer, you picked out his grey, NASA sweater and put it into your basket purposely.

He smiled and decided not to confront you about it. Secretly, he liked seeing you in his clothes.

 “They’re much more comfy than mine. You have at least twenty-five of them, can I borrow one, please?” you pleaded, leaning against the door frame in PJ shorts and a tank top.

 “Fine. Take whichever you want, doll,” he shook his head smiling, his metal hand picking up the coffee mug once again and brought it to his lips.

You yelled a quick ‘thanks’ as you ran back upstairs. The compound had been rebuilt; but not many lived in it now.

 There was no denying that you had feelings for the super soldier. And you were almost 70% sure that he felt the same towards you.

Everyone visited often, but it was mainly just you and Bucky at the compound; which meant that you spent most of your time together. And it only further confirmed that you were slowly, but surely, falling for the super soldier.

 You loved sleeping in his clothes. Not just because they were softer than any other material, but because despite being washed – they smelt like him. His cologne lingered in the fabric long after he wore them, and sleeping in it gave you a weird comfort that there was someone else here with you.

Before being an Avenger, you had nobody. Then you found a family, but then Thanos happened and even that was snatched from you.

Now all you had was Bucky. And you couldn’t risk your friendship with him by confessing your feelings for him, so you kept your one sided love hidden.

  Rushing into Bucky’s room, you went straight for his closet and pulled out a random sweater. It was a beige one; simple and cozy. You sniffed the soft material in your hands, you were aware how weird the scene would look from another person’s point of view, but you didn’t care.

Bucky’s cologne infiltrated your senses; his signature rosewood scent, mixed with just the slightest hint of nicotine.

 Happy with what you found, you made your way back to your room; hoping that Bucky would forget about the sweater because you planned on keeping it.

You stepped into your room and immediately discarded what you were wearing; the shorts and the tank top. Once bare, you slipped on the sweater.

The soft material rubbed against your nipples and a soft whimper escaped your lips, your eyes widening right after the sound left your mouth.

What was that?

  You had trouble sleeping that night, you tossed and turned in a desperate attempt to find a comfortable position so that your body could shut down and allow you a good sleep but, nothing helped.

You tried reading but you had already read each and every book you owned at least twice.

You laid in bed, absolutely still; until you finally figured out what the problem was – you were horny.

 Instinctively, your hand slipped under the sweater you borrowed from the super soldier and flew straight to your erected nipples.

You pinched and rolled the buds in between your fingers – back arching off the bed in the process, as soft whimpers left your lips.

Your blood rushed to your face as you thought about how much better things would be if it were Bucky’s hands instead of your own.

You thought about how his cold, metal arm would feel against your warm skin, and how skilled his tongue would be against your body.

 As your sinful thoughts carried you away in a haze; mind clouded with lust – you didn’t notice that a certain metal-armed super soldier was watching you from outside your bedroom; through the door which was left ajar.

 ^^^

 Bucky couldn’t sleep that night, perhaps because he had too much coffee in the evening. Wanting to tire himself out a little bit, he decided to make his way to the gym downstairs.

Often, he would drop by your door, knock and ask if you wanted to join him as well because he knew that on some days – you had trouble sleeping as well.

 He soon reached the hallway which lead to your bedroom, and he noticed that the door was slightly open and the dim light from inside could be seen.

She must be reading, he thought and made his was to your bedroom – glad that he got a partner to work out with.

 The soldier had feelings for you, but so as not to make things awkward between the two of you; he decided not to tell you about it. He believed that you only thought of him as a friend, nothing more.

 As he approached your room, he thought that his ears are playing tricks on him because he could’ve sworn he heard a soft moan coming through the semi closed door.

His heartbeat increased as he steadily approached the door, soundlessly.

His breathing stopped for a good 2-3 seconds when he saw the enticing sight in front of him.

 The lights in your room was dimmed to the lowest and you were lying down on your bed; hair sprawled around your head messily, legs parted, whimpers escaping your lips and your hand rubbing lazy circles over your core.

His lips parted as he took in deeper breaths. He couldn’t believe he caught you in such an intimate act. He knew he should leave just as soundlessly as he came, he knew he should leave. But he couldn’t.

You had him under a spell and his body refused to turn away.

 Bucky watched you intently; your head was turned the other way so you couldn’t see him as he inched closer to the door.

He watched how your fingers toyed with your wet folds, and he was so close that he could even hear the obscene sounds – and it made all his blood to rush to his lower abdomen.

He watched how your back arched off the bed and how the delightful sounds left your mouth. Your breathing quickened as your fingers sped up against your core.

His hungry eyes raked all over your body; drinking in your ethereal appearance. He smirked when he noticed that you weren’t wearing anything but his beige sweater.

It was lifted up till you chin so it gave him a clear view of how you toyed with your breasts; it was the first time he noticed how perfect they were.

Sure, he checked you out all the time; but this was different.

 Bucky watched how your fingers slipped in and out of your folds and how the palm of your hands rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He was shamelessly enjoying the show, but his entire body froze when he heard the most pleasing sound ever – you moaned out his name in your haze.

 “Oh . . . Bucky,” your breaths came in shreds as you moaned his name again.

The sound of his name leaving your lips, right as you were indulged in a provocative act; aroused the wildness in him.

The starved animal in him surfaced once he heard you moaned his name a couple of times more, and he wanted nothing more than to just replace your fingers with his, and attach his mouth to your nipples and touch you wherever he wanted to – marking you as his.

His preying eyes watched with more alertness, taking in every single movement; the rise and fall of your chest as your release got closer, the muscles in your thighs twitching as you pleasured yourself.

 His cock twitched in his sweatpants, and his hands itched from holding back from touching you. Bucky wanted nothing more than to just walk in your room, settle himself between your legs and just rock in and out of you until you could no longer bear another stroke of his member against your pulsating walls.

 Something in him flipped like a switch. He no longer wanted to you work out with him, he wanted to thrust his cock into you relentlessly until you begged him to stop.

He closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself down; knowing that he shouldn’t be invading your privacy like this.

But the way you were whimpering his name wasn’t helping at all.

 Damn you, doll.

  Intuitively, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were much too preoccupied with pleasuring yourself that you didn’t even notice the arrival of the super soldier.

Bucky approached your squirming body with caution, until he reached the foot of your bed. He watched you with nothing but lust and an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

 His sweater being the only thing which barely covered your naked body added to his need to have you. Your eyes were closed, and your lips parted as ragged breaths came through.

  “So, this is why you steal my clothes. So, you can think of me while you touch yourself, huh, doll?” his voice rang in your ears and the sound of it immediately halted your actions.

 His voice was deeper than usual.

 Embarrassment washed over you as you wanted to just disappear. You immediately reached out for the covers and tried to hide your bare body from his hungry eyes.

He smirked as you buried your face into the blankets.

 “Shit!” you screamed into the blanket and it came out muffled.

 Bucky chuckled darkly.

 “There’s no need to hide, doll. I’ve seen it all now. Come here,” he sat beside your covered body and pulled the blanket down, revealing an embarrassed girl whom he had just caught masturbating while she thought of him.

Messy hair, flushed cheeks, and a certain dampness flowing out of your glistening folds – he thought you were the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen, yet he couldn’t wait to ruin you. He couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you. He couldn’t wait to stretch you to your maximum as he took you, over and over again.

 His hands cupped your face; his metal arm felt soothing against your flushed skin and you sheepishly looked at him smiling down at you.

 “I bet I feel better than those pretty fingers, doll, don’t you think? ‘Gonna let me touch you? Let me fuck you to sleep?” he asked sternly, sending chills all over your body and his words didn’t help the non-stop flow of desire which escaped your folds.

 You nodded.

 “Speak up, doll. I know you weren’t shy when you were moaning my name out loud just now. I wanna hear you, tell me, will you let me have my way with you? You’re gonna let me make you cum over and over again around my cock?” he asked again, his vulgar words making you dizzy with lust and the need to have him.

 “Yes,” you whispered and he wasted no time in connecting his lips with yours.

 His mouth moved feverishly against yours, claiming your lips as his and he pushed you down on the bed; his hands running along your sides as he slowly took his sweater off of your body.

 He got rid of his clothes in no time and focused back on you. His lips trailed all over your skin, kissing and biting your neck, collar bones and breasts.

His mouth latched on to your soft swells and he instantly fell in love with the raw taste of your skin.

 “Bucky . . .,” you moaned as you felt his tongue gliding downwards on your skin. He stopped right above your dripping heat and placed a kiss over your wet folds, your slick coating his way too pink lips.

The sight was sinful; he never broke eye contact as his mouth latched on to your core. His tongue circled your clit and trailed down to your entrance, teasing the tight hole.

 You cried out as his teeth slightly grazed your clit. Your body squirmed under his touch and he loved each and every second of it.

He believed you tasted divine, and he couldn’t get enough of your taste, but he knew he had to be in you soon because he was having trouble controlling himself.

 “Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” he spoke, lips wet due to his previous assault on your heat.

His hair was messy and the hair band could barely contain it as your hands ran through it multiple times, tugging at his roots every now and then.

 You moaned out loud as he roughly wrapped your legs around his waist, his rock hard member pressing right onto your core.

You started removing the sweater but he seized your wrists.

 “Leave it,” he said sternly.

 You panted, sighing at the friction caused by his member as he abruptly moved.

 “Why?” you whined as you grew more and more impatient for his touch.

 “Like it. Like seeing that you belong to me,” he replied, his gravelly voice signaling how possessive he was and you liked it.

 Wasting no time, he aligned his tip to your entrance and slipped into you with ease. He immediately started thrusting in you, allowing you very little time to adjust to his size.

Like he fantasized, he stretched you to your maximum; and the sight of your tight hole wrapped around his thick cock was driving him more and more feral with each passing moment.

 He rocked into you, and gradually increased his speed as your moans got louder and more and more improper.

 “Fuck . . . Bucky, I’m-,”

 “No you’re not! Not yet, doll,” he growled and moaned out loud as well as your walls milked him perfectly.

His head dipped down and his lips found yours, roughly kissing you while he pounded into your tight entrance.

 His mouth moved to your ear where he whispered the filthiest words you had ever heard. He voiced out all of his vulgar thoughts and you listened in delight.

 Your hands found their way into his hair yet again, you pulled at his roots and he groaned in pleasure, and sped up into you even more.

 “Fuck . . . God, baby, you feel so g-good,” he moaned out, his breath coming through in shreds as he panted right in your ear.

 You cried out as his thumb found its way to your clit; he rubbed the little bud and you were a moaning mess within seconds, squirming under him like he imagined you would. Except, you were better than his imagination.

 He groaned and his thrusts got more and more rough, his tip caressing all your sensitive spots as he brought you closer and closer to your orgasm.

Soon, you came with yet another cry of his name. The waves of euphoria washed over you and tears accumulated in your eyes at how good he felt, his thick cock throbbing inside you.

Bucky came right after; pulling his length completely out of you and slamming into you one last time before he fell limp into your arms.

 You were both panting, too worn out to move; so you just relished the feeling of having each other.

You felt Bucky’s cum shoot at your walls; his cock pulsating against your walls – dragging another moan out of you.

 “Be mine,” Bucky spoke and your previous embarrassment washed over you again.

He lifted his body up and hovered over yours, his hair falling out of his messy man bun.

You smiled shyly and reached out to tuck his hair behind his ears. He was so close that his body heat warmed you as well. And it was something you could easily get used to.

 “I’m all yours,” you pecked his nose, causing him to smile down at you. You started getting up to go and get cleaned up, but he stopped you.

 Bucky stopped your actions by pushing you back down on your bed.

 “Who said I was done with you, doll? I bet you look ravishing on your knees, don’t you, baby?”

 His voice sent chills down your back yet again. And the tone he used had you wet all over again, but you weren’t complaining.

Permanent Tag List: (feel free to join)

@the-omni-princess @saharzek @unlikelycandylove @sparkling-gayyyy @minetticatinwonderland @imsoft-barnes @destiel-artemis @avnngrs @pleasforhelp @randomfangirlonline @peaceinourtime82 @blvck-stabbath @nec-me-ire @sexytholland @isabelcrichards

#bucky #bucky barnes smut #post endgame #marvel smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #stucky smut #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x you #requested #dark bucky #james buchanan barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes headcanon #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan au #marvel headcanons #marvel fic #marvel x reader

[marvxlousqueen]

Warren Worthington- Laundry

word count: 1.8K

warnings: really soft smut like just sweet smut, no condom whoops, cussing, also! not proofread lmao

A/N: so i have two requests rn but i’m having a hard time writing them bc i don’t feel inspired but ! i’m inspired for this so let’s get it folks

also this is like a modern college!warren au 

Finals week. Commonly referred to as hell week, which is a perfect description for it. College was hard enough without taking long, difficult exams. (Y/n) had been going through a quizlet for her macroeconomics class for the last 2 hours. She could feel her brain start to go numb. If she had to go over monetary policy one more time, she was going to literally punch herself in the face. She shifted in her desk chair, trying not to wake her dorm mate. (Y/n) grabbed her phone, going to check her notifications, but stopped herself when she saw the time. 

“2 am, holy shit.” 

(Y/n) didn’t want to pull an all nighter, knowing it would just make her feel like shit the next day. She figured she deserved sleep (if she was able to get any). After closing her laptop, she slowly creeped over to her bed.

“Damn it.”

Her dirty laundry was in a pile in front of her bed. She was supposed to do it earlier and study at the student laundry mat, but all the machines were taken. (Y/n) thought about her options, deciding that since she had just drank a red bull an hour ago and wouldn’t be able to sleep, she might as well throw her laundry in the wash instead of just laying in bed overthinking. She figured she could go over her biology notes as her clothes washed, giving her a break from economics. 

She quietly threw her laundry in her basket, placing her bio notebook on top. (Y/n) tiptoed out of the room, heading left to the student laundry mat. The dorms were extremely quiet. Everyone was probably either cramming for exams or passed out already. 

(Y/n) reached the laundry room that was at the end of the hall, but hesitated in walking in. She noticed a person sitting on top of one of the machines, but with her eyes still adjusting to the bright florescent lights she couldn’t tell who. 

“Oh, hey (Y/n).”

She squinted to see the figure as she stepped into the room.

“Warren?”

Him and (Y/n) were somewhat close, having shared a class their sophomore year of college. She had always found him cute, especially early sophomore year, but now he had grown into himself more- he was a straight up hottie. She saw him more frequently now because he had taking the position of RA for their dorm hall. They never spoke too much, just exchanged smiles and the occasional small talk. 

Warren hummed, looking back down at his textbook. 

(Y/n) lugged her laundry basket on top of one of the machines, filling it with quarters before turning back to face Warren.

“Why are you in here at 2 am?” 

“Why are you?”

“I asked you first.”

He let out a sigh, “Just couldn’t sleep. Figured I’d get some chores done and some studying in. Was going pretty well too before someone distracted me.”

(Y/n) laughed, “Distracting? I’m not that loud, but fine I’ll be quiet.”

“It’s not you talking, it’s your clothes.”

“Huh?”

(Y/n) looked down. All she was wearing was a big t-shirt over a pair of underwear, her feet clad in fuzzy socks.

“That’s against dress code, you know.”

(Y/n) could hear the smirk in his voice. She turned back around, loading her laundry into the washing machine. “Oh shut up, Mr. RA. And if you’re distracted, close your eyes.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes and even though Warren couldn’t see her, it’s like he could feel her annoyance. 

“Oh, fuck me,” (Y/n) mumbled to herself.

“Gladly.”

She slammed her hand down on the washer, “Shut it! Why are you so horny right now? I’ve never seen you act like this.”

“Must be all the sleep deprivation. Really gets the hormones pumping. But no, really, what’s wrong?”

He hopped off his machine, checking the time and seeing it only had another 5 minutes before it needed to dry. He walked towards (Y/n), trying to keep his eyes from scanning her bare legs and looking creepy.

“I didn’t bring my detergent. Fuck me.”

“You can use mine!”

Warren happily ran to his basket, grabbing two big bottles, excited to be able to help her. 

“Here.”

“Fabric softener?” (Y/n) tried to hold in a laugh.

“What? It makes my clothes feel nice!”

“You’re such a softie!”

“Shut it!”

“Nope! If you get to make sex jokes, I get to bully you for being a softie.”

Warren groaned, hopping up on the machine next to (Y/n), leaving his textbook abandoned on the other side of the room. 

“It’s cute, seriously. Wanting soft clothes and all.”

He rolled his eyes, but wasn’t able to keep a smile from forming on his face after she indirectly called him cute.

“But, no, thank you. For the detergent and softener.” 

Warren hummed in response, watching (Y/n) add detergent and softener. Somehow she seemed to beautiful even under the bright laundry room lights at two in the morning. 

(Y/n) started the machine and shut the top of the washer, hopping up on it. She scooted closer to Warren, her legs dangling off the washer. 

“So...”

“So?”

He turned towards her, waiting for her to continue. 

“So-”

(Y/n) was interrupted by the buzzing of Warren’s machine. He hopped off, going to toss them into a dryer. (Y/n) followed him across the room. Warren opened the washer top and started loading the clothes into a dryer. (Y/n) grabbed some clothes, wanting to help. 

“Nice boxers.”

Warren spun away from the dryer, turning to face her.

“What? Put those down!”

“Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles huh?”

Warren snatched them from her hand, “Don’t touch my underwear! That’s- that’s weird.”

“Says the boy who has made at least three sex jokes since I got in here.”

Warren rolled his eyes, focused on digging quarters out of his laundry basket for the dryer. 

“I liked them though. Pretty cute.”

He let out a scoff, “Sure, cartoon underwear is so cute.”

“Yeah, would look even cuter on my bedroom floor though.”

Warren whipped his head to look back at her. She was sitting up on the washer he had just used, absentmindedly flipping through his textbook.

“Did- did you just make a sex joke?”

“Did you like it?”

Warren turned back to the dryer, finishing with his quarters, “Not at all.”

“Fuck you.”

“Please do.”

“Damn it! You’re good at that.”

“That’s what she said.”

(Y/n) lightly kicked Warren in response to his never ending sexual humor. He patted her leg, making her scooch over so he could squeeze in next to her. 

“So statistics huh?” 

Warren patted his textbook cover with his other hand, “Yup.”

“Gross.”

“Yup.” 

A moment of silence passed, Warren’s hand still resting on her thigh. 

“S-so, what did you want to say earlier?”

(Y/n) looked away from his hand, “What? When?”

“Over there,” he pointed lazily towards her machine.

“Oh! I, um, I just wanted to say you got taller. Since last year, you know?”

Warren laughed, eyes on her face. “Thanks.”

“You look good, Warren! Serious glow up.”

“So I was ugly last year?”

“What?,” (Y/n)’s eyes widened, “no! Not at all! You were different though.”

“Bad different I’m guessing.”

She shoved his shoulder, “Shut up! Good different. You were cuter, now you’re-”

“I’m what?”

(Y/n)’s tongue darted out to wet her dry lips, “Hot. I mean- you know, uh, hotter? You always looked good. But now you’re like- whew! You know?”

Warren’s eyebrows were raised in amusement, not used to seeing (Y/n) so flustered. It felt refreshing, like they were finally escaping the stress of school and just having fun again.

“You’re hotter too. Still hot last year, but like- whew!”

“Fuck you, okay. Don’t mock me.”

He poked her ribs, “I’m serious! You look great.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, trying to hold back her smile. 

“(Y/n),” Warren whispered, scooting closer to her, “C-can I kiss you?”

Instead of responding, (Y/n) smashed her lips into his, desperate for him. Warren’s hand moved from her thigh to cup her jaw, making her slow down. He wanted to savor this moment with her. 

The kiss became softer and lighter. Butterflies were going off in Warren’s stomach as she pulled herself onto his lap, accidentally shoving his basket off in the process. The loud bang made them pull apart.

“Fuck! Sorry! I was trying to be sexy and get on top, but-”

 “It’s okay.”

Warren shut her up by kissing her once more, slightly more feverish this time. His hands slipped under her shirt, slowly climbing higher. (Y/n) stopped to pull the shirt over her head. 

Warren’s jaw dropped when he noticed she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

“I- um, wow-”

(Y/n)’s lips moved to his neck while her fingers began to slip behind the waist band of his sweatpants. She slowly tugged them off, leaving them hanging around his ankles. 

(Y/n) began to palm his obvious erection, her mouth sucking a mark onto his neck.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

She pulled away, retracting her hands from his boxers, “Y-yeah, are you okay? Oh boy-”

Warren grabbed her hands, holding them between his, “I’m fine! Great actually, really really great. I just- I really want to say I actually like you. Like feelings- not just this. And yeah I want to do this too, but I would also want something to happen with feelings..”

(Y/n) moved her hands from his to cup his face, “I definitely want to date you, Warren. You’re so sweet.”

She could feel his face heat up in her hands, “Good! Yay- yes, okay. Cool-”

“Just stop talking.”

(Y/n)’s lips found their way back to Warren’s neck as her hips began to grind against Warren, making him whimper.

Warren slid down his boxers before moving his hands to her underwear, rubbing her folds through it. (Y/n)’s sleep deprived body responded quicker than it usually would, she was already soaked.

She pulled away to move her underwear to the side, too tired to take it off in their difficult position. She lined herself up with Warren and slid down, taking him all in at once. 

Warren let out a breathy moan as her heat wrapped around him.

“Fuck, (Y/n).”

(Y/n)’s nails went to scratch against his head as she slowly moved her hips on him. 

It was soft and slow, but exactly what they needed to relax and unwind. 

(Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her edge and she began to move slightly faster, lips smashed against Warren’s.

She tightened around him as she came, making Warren follow. 

“Fuck- I’m so tired.”

(Y/n) laughed, climbing off of him and pulling her shirt back over her head. 

“Me too.”

Warren hopped off the machine, almost tripping over his pants around his ankles.

“You could come sleep at my place. I-um, I have a room to myself you know? Since I’m an RA. Y-you don’t have to, but-”

“No, that’d be nice. Except I’ve still got a load in. But you can just go ahead, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Warren shook his head, “I’ll stay.”

“Really? It’s like 3 am.”

Warren walked over to her machine, “I need to stay, you still have my laundry detergent.”

“Oh fuck you!”

“You just did!”

taglist: @chocolatealmondmilkshake @thoughtlesspace @billyhargovesgurl @babebenhardy @rexorangecouny @cyndagoaway @killcomet @mcrmarvelloki @queen-turtle-boiii @hardlylo @ziggymay @jacqueline1916 @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ixchel-9275 @queen-baelin 

hmu to be added!

#Warren Worthington III #warren worthington iii smut #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington iii x reader #warren fluff #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #x men #x men apocalypse

[tehrevving]

can i get a dante x reader fic in a laundromat. like those boys have a washing machine lmao.

Ok, but Dante naked in the laundromat at 3am is my new kink. 

All things considered, it wasn’t a bad job. You honestly weren’t even sure why your boss hired you. The answer as to why an automated laundromat needed a night attendant was beyond you, but it didn’t matter. Basically you just did whatever you wanted all night, it helped pay the bills, and really that was all that mattered.

Tonight, or this morning, working the night shift was confusing sometimes; you were binge watching another series on netflix that you didn’t really care about while reading some quite well written erotica that your friend had recommended to you. It was 2:47am when you finished the latest chapter and honestly, it was about time for a bathroom break. You had seriously considered giving yourself some quick release after the last few steamy chapters but, the thought of how absolutely gross the bathroom down the street was made you think twice about it. 

Anyway, you got up, stretching your aching muscles and headed off for a much needed bathroom break.

You had been gone maybe 10 minutes and weren’t really paying any attention when you returned. It took far too long for you to notice the humming and gushing of water signifying that the machines were in use. You looked up finally, always curious about who the fuck was out doing their laundry at 3am.

You were absolutely not expecting what you saw.

Standing next to the row of washing machines was a tall and very fucking naked man with his back to you. His long white hair shook as he hummed and danced to a tune that you couldn’t make out. 

“Holy Fuck!” You exclaimed, much louder than you expected it to be, but honestly what other reaction was appropriate?

The man noticed you then and slowly turned around until he was facing you. He was older, attractive and with a good body. He made absolutely no effort to cover up his nakedness and you struggled to draw your eyes away from the very large, flaccid just cock just lying right there against his leg.

He started walking towards you and his fucking cock jiggled with every step. 

Eventually you managed to draw your eyes up to his face, but you couldn’t look him in the eyes. You saw him wink at you out of the corner of your vision and you couldn’t help but blush. 

“I didn’t realise there would be such a pretty attendant here at this time,” he said, his voice low and flirty. 

You were speechless.

“Name’s Dante,” he drawled, holding his hand out for you to shake. 

You introduced yourself with a stammer, reluctantly shaking his hand, figuring it would be pretty rude for you not to. At least with him being this close to the counter, you weren’t able to see his dick. 

“I guess we’re stuck here together for the next few hours,” he winked again, “let me know if you need anything,” he said, and then turned around chuckling as he moved to sit on one of the benches near the machines. 

He pulled out a magazine, you couldn’t make out the contents from where you were but you were pretty sure there was a scantily clad woman on the front of it. He was still naked, his bare ass on the bench and you could still see this fucking dick. 

“Umm, Dante,” you called out to him and he looked over at you. “Would you mind, umm, covering up?”

“Oh,” he said and then looked down at himself, “honestly I’d forgotten I wasn’t wearing anything,” he stopped and thought for a moment, “all of my clothes are in the wash though.”

“Let me look through the lost and found for you,” you stammered, reaching underneath the desk to pull out the old cardboard box. 

The gods were not fucking on your side today. The lost and found box was totally empty apart from a single in-date magnum condom. What the fuck?

By the time you’d finished screaming internally, the man had gotten up and stood near enough to the counter that you could make out the fucking veins on his cock.

“Find anything doll?” He was smiling, looking straight at you and smug as he cocked his hip. It was like he was trying to get you to look at his penis. 

You shook your head, “no.”

“What a shame,” he said and then he laughed, brushing his hair back from his face as he lowered his voice and stooped over slightly so he was closer to your height. “I could always wear you instead sweetheart.”

It took far too long for you parse his words, your mouth hanging open like a fish while your brain struggled to catch up. He was hot, you were still pretty horny from reading porn and well, it’s highly unlikely that anyone else is gonna come into the laundromat.

“Has that line ever worked for you?” You couldn’t help but ask.

“I dunno. You tell me. First time I’ve ever used it.”

You leant over the counter so you were closer to his face. “It’s only gonna work because I’ve been reading porn all night and I’m fucking horny. OK?”

Dante laughed, “Jackpot!” He beckoned you over to him.

You reached down and grabbed the single fucking condom out from the lost and found box.

You made a show of looking him up and down as you walked around the counter towards him, focusing between his legs, “you’re a magnum right?”

He laughed, “come here.”

He pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your body and leaning down to press his lips against yours. 

His lips were soft and his stubble was rough against your skin. He was warm and you couldn’t help but run your hands against the bare skin of his chest. He pulled you flush against his skin, his teeth teasing at your lips. It didn’t take long until you could feel the press of his cock against your leg as it started to stir. 

Dante lifted you up effortlessly, you clung onto his arms for dear life but he seemed confident enough. He deposited you on top of the currently whirring washing machine and you gasped slightly at the vibrations of it against your heated body. 

He leant down and started to undress you, pulling off your baggy sweatpants and underwear until you were bare and smearing your arousal against the grimy plastic of the washing machine. 

You put your hands on his hips and pulled him close to you. He let out a groan as your bodies slotted together. You kissed him, pushed your tongue down his throat as you felt him shift so his hand was pumping at his cock. 

Dante pulled away with a groan, slightly breathless as he plucked the condom from your grasp. You chanced a look downwards to watch him put it on and holy shit, his dick was even bigger hard; thick and long it seemed like it took an age for him to finish rolling it down his cock. 

The he was winking at you, leaning down and pulling you to his body. He manipulated your body until your teeth were at his shoulder and his cock was pressing against your entrance. 

“Feel free to use your teeth if you need to sweetheart,” he smirked and then began to slowly press forward.

You did end up clawing at him, your teeth pressing marks into his skin. He went slowly and between the lube on the condom and your own slick he sank inside of you easily enough. But he was big and thick, and the burn was intense, soothed only slightly by the vibrations of the washing machine underneath you. 

His hands squeezed hard at your ass when he finally bottomed out inside of you. A small groan escaping his lips and he panted slightly. “Shit, that doesn’t normally happen,” he said, pulling away slightly to look down at where your bodies were joined, where practically the entirety of his cock was sheathed inside of you. “Damn,” he breathed. 

“Move,” you said to him, bucking your hips digging your nails into his back until he had no choice but to oblige. 

He started off slowly at first, setting a rhythmic pace but with the vibrations of the machine spurring you along, you couldn’t maintain it for very long. Soon he was fucking you with long, hard strokes, his large cock pressing against every sensitive spot inside of you. 

“Shit, you feel so good,” he groaned against your ear, but you were too busy trying not to bite all the way through the soft skin of his neck. 

He picked up his pace as your cries began to reach a fever pitch, as the washing machine underneath you whirred louder and stronger as it neared the end of its cycle.

Dante fucked you roughly, his hands pushing and pulling at your ass. He took his own pleasure from you, but as the heat kept building and building inside of you, you couldn’t even care.

The vibrating of the washing machine reached a fever pitch and you cried out and came around his cock. Dante moaned and his hips stuttered as your body tightened impossibly around him. He couldn’t help but bury himself deep inside of you and come. 

He practically flopped over on the washing machine, his hair falling in your face with his weight an almost unpleasant press on your body. The washing machine underneath you decided to start beeping then, signalling that the load was done. 

Dante laughed and then swore, pulling himself upright. Your whined at the loss of sensation as he pulled out of you. 

He helped you get down off the washing machine and help you up while your shaky legs recovered. You found your pants on the floor and struggled to pull them on as you watched Dante begin to transfer his clothes from the washing machine into the dryer. 

His cock was still slightly hard, sticking straight up and bobbing as he moved. It looked fucking ridiculous and you couldn’t help but laugh.

He looked at you, slightly hurt as he turned on the dryer. He sat back down on the bench and beckoned you over. You sat down in his lap and got comfortable against his chest.

“I gotta start doing my washing more often.” he chuckled, smirking down at you. 

You just punched him in the shoulder and laughed, unsure of what the fuck just happened and where the fuck you were going to go from here.

#rev writes #dmc #dmc5 #dante #dante x reader #my writing #Anonymous

[nationaldvam]

After the New Year a few years ago, I bought myself a copy of Marie Kondo’s The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up. It wasn’t a book I actually felt I needed; if anything, I’m almost annoyingly tidy already, a veritable Roomba of a human. I’d moved fifteen times in the decade since I’d turned 18, each time trying to shed whatever I no longer wore.

I bought Kondo’s book mostly as a ploy to get my boyfriend, Rob, to clean out his nightstand. Our courtship had been a steady reclamation of his less-tidy space by my relentless wave of tidiness. (Whatever’s going on in Marie Kondo’s brain that makes her say “I love mess!”, I have it, too.) His nightstand, though, was The Place He Put Things. A place I ached to clean.

The book arrived, and after weeks spent suggesting he read it, I finally decided to live by example. I did as Marie Kondo prescribed: I emptied my closet and bureau into a pile on the living room floor, separated their contents into a peak of jackets and a peak of dresses. One by one, I picked items up and asked myself whether they sparked joy. If they didn’t, into the discard pile they went.

I didn’t take me long to see it, what the discard pile was. It was only the skirts, only the dresses, only the flowers and lace and sparkles. It was everything I’d bought hoping that some colleague might say: Isn’t that cute?

I burst into tears, shame filling me entirely, and then I laughed about the fact that this book had made me cry, this silly, stupid cleaning book.

For months — well, years — I’d carried around a stack of telling moments in my mind, ones I’d shuffle periodically, ones I knew told me something but something I didn’t want to acknowledge to myself, let alone admit. For example, there was this one moment back before I’d quit my job. I had worked at a start-up media company. It was the sort of office that looks fun and has fun snacks and there’s pressure to dress up on fun holidays like Halloween. One Halloween, I’d come as Ace Ventura.

After lunch they were giving prizes to those who’d really gone above and beyond costume-wise, myself not included. I stood in the crowd next to a colleague who’d come dressed as her boss. Earlier her costume had gotten a big reaction, though, because it was her dressing as him: sneakers, jeans, glasses, of course the hoodie. Everyone laughed. Now we were standing around, drinking booze, eating sugar. I told her I liked her costume and she looked embarrassed.

“I feel so awkward. Don’t you feel awkward?” she asked.

I didn’t get what she meant.

“Dressing like a guy!” she said.

“Oh,” I said, and without thinking added: “I always dress like a guy for Halloween, or at least a lot of the time.”

(I mentally flipped through prior Halloweens: My first costume, at age three, an authentic lederhosen. In elementary and middle school, I’d dressed as a male nerd, a male tourist, Charlie Chaplin. When I was in grad school in Iowa, in my mid-twenties, I’d won second place at a roller derby halftime costume contest dressed as Justin Bieber. When I said “Justin Bieber” into the judge’s mic, someone in the crowd shouted, “That’s a chick!”)

“That’s funny,” I said to my colleague, “I haven’t noticed that before.”

Which was funny, because just getting dressed, day-to-day, I struggled with, always. Most mornings my bedroom floor would be lost beneath tops and skirts pulled on and torn off. I’d apply eye makeup or lipstick, then remove it, then change my mind again. I’d pause at the door and cringe and end up back in my room, eyeing the clock, and pull the shirt from the day before from the laundry. It had always been like this.

Back then, I was always sweating. At work I sweated through shirts and cardigans and sometimes jackets, too. If I thought about the sweat it seemed to get worse. In the summer especially I’d go hide in the bathroom a while, wait until the whole joint was empty so I could crouch with my pits beneath the hand dryer. Sometimes I told myself little lies about how I was getting better, generally — getting better at having style, getting better at faking confidence.

I knew deep down this was all a fiction. If anything, I sensed I was getting worse at even leaving the apartment. It grew harder to dress for work; I eventually wore the same few items over and over: a black maxi dress, lace-up sandals, a jean jacket to mop up sweat.

But then I sold a book, and realized that to finish it, I had to quit my job. This meant no more office or coworkers. It meant I didn’t have to leave the house at all. This idea — never having to dress for work again — was appealing for reasons I still couldn’t quite explain.

Now with no office to go to, I rarely dressed, and if I did I wore sweatpants. The days I did go out, for an appointment or a meeting, I might force myself to dress up. Tripping down a cobblestone street one afternoon in heels, I wondered who the hell I was trying to fool.

I eventually ran out of the one makeup item I still sometimes wore, red lipstick, and now found myself incapable of making the trip to Sephora to buy more. The place had always make me melt with nervousness, but now, so unpracticed at being in public, I felt somehow incapable of going inside. I finally convinced a friend to come with me. I found myself trying to explain to her that doing something like buying lipstick was very hard for me. I don’t think she understood what I meant. I don’t think I understood what I meant.

A few days later I wrote about the lipstick incident in a blog post. I published it hurriedly, before I could talk myself out of it. In the post, for the very first time to anyone, I acknowledged what that day I termed “my gender stuff.”

A month later, kneeling and sobbing before my Marie Kondo discard pile, it felt silly, sure, that this book is what had finally done it, but I also couldn’t unsee my actual preferences: so much of the feminine clothing I owned did not spark joy.

I donated it all. I hung and folded the items that remained: flannel shirts, baggy jeans, t-shirts. I had kept a few dresses and heels and feminine winter coats, ones that had seemed really special when I’d bought them. I knew Marie Kondo wouldn’t have approved of my choice to keep them. Each day I passed them and they stared right back at me.

During the months that followed, I steadily shed feminine things. One day, all my makeup: gone. Another day, all my earrings: gone. (My ears had been pierced when I was two!) I tried to do as Marie Kondo said and thanked these items for what they’d given me. I guiltily threw them out, and then felt wonderful.

One August day, I donated the last of my heels and dresses, the ones that had once been my absolute favorites. I happened to run into someone I knew in line at the thrift shop, and he offered to take my box of things to donate. I put them in his trunk and watched him drive away. I didn’t say to him, nor could I have articulated, that I was throwing out the last of me pretending to be a woman.

Walking away, I felt joy, an almost ridiculous joy. I also felt terror, like when a cartoon has walked off a cliff and is standing blissfully on air.

A few days later, Rob and I happened to be flying to another city on vacation. I packed a mostly empty suitcase. When we got there, I said, I’d force myself to go shopping.

Rob knew I’d gotten rid of a lot of my clothes, and I’d begun to talk about gender, but, like me, he didn’t know where I was going with any of this.

The first store was GAP-like. To my left were waifish white mannequins wearing blouses and skirts, cashmeres and scarves; to the right were slightly bigger ones in belted khakis and button downs.

I walked straight ahead, wanting to turn right but afraid. I broke left through the dresses, feeling immediately disappointed in myself, Rob following behind.

I swerved back to the right, hurriedly walking through the men’s things now, wondering if anyone was on to me. I looked at a pair of pants, willing myself to pick them up. How would I ever figure out my size? How could I ever work up the nerve to walk back to the dressing room? I felt like I was going to throw up or pass out. I marched back out the glass doors, with Rob behind me.

We found a café and I cried and tried to tell him some of my story, the first I’d ever told anyone any of it, really. I recalled being three and learning my bedroom walls were painted green because my parents had expected me to be a boy, a fact I had always loved. I recalled how the nickname I’d had since birth, Sandy, was a name for boys and girls both, another fact I had always loved.

“For as long as I can remember, this is who I’ve been,” I explained to him: internally not-female, or not just female, though I didn’t know what this made me instead.

“I love you,” he said, “I support you.” He seemed less surprised than I’d have guessed he be. What fear I had that he would love me less if I were honest about it all was quickly dissolving.

I finished an iced tea. I felt better.

We resolved that I could try going into a second store. He held my hand. I nervously felt along the side that had masculine things. The woman behind the register was wearing a ballcap herself and didn’t seem bothered. I went into a dressing room and tried on item after item. Every time I emerged, Rob beamed.

I couldn’t afford to buy much of anything that day, so when he took out his card, I didn’t stop him; I’d never felt so grateful.

That evening, we went on a date. I wore a new button down, trousers, Oxfords. We moved down the street, his hand in mine, which was shaking, so terrified by the question of what we must look like to others.

Nobody much noticed, or if they did and cared, they didn’t show it. This, I’ve since learned, is often the way of things.

Before that night, I realized, I had never before been both “dressed up” and comfortable.

“You look hot,” Rob said, and unlike how I’d always reacted to such sentiments, I didn’t want to swat away his compliment like a gnat.

The best feelings are the converse of this cisgender othering: the moments of communion, however brief, I share with other queer and trans people out there in the world. Like last June, I walked down Sixth Avenue during the NYC Dyke March, one body in a long splay of bodies, bodies with voices, bodies with drums, and I felt, for the first time ever, like I was surrounded by my peers.

That year I didn’t leave the apartment much because there was always work to be done, and because what would I wear? Because what was I even doing? Because sometimes I’d cry so hard.

I had learned words for myself, words like nonbinary and trans, but I couldn’t yet imagine saying these words about myself to anyone. Trump was elected. The apartment was high in a building with a terrace. I’d stand on it barefoot and study the traffic on the avenue below.

That year I read books — books for the book I was writing, but also books about gender, books I’d finally let myself get after years of not buying such books. When I finally read Julia Serano’s Whipping Girl, I reflected a long time on my choice of Halloween costume that time at work, Ace Ventura. Serano reminded me that the entire plot of Ace Ventura: Pet Detective turns on the “reveal” of a transgender woman. At the movie’s climax, Ace outs a trans woman for the “fake” that she is — literally spinning her around to show her tucked genitals — at which he and everyone else vomits profusely, including Dan Marino and the Dolphins’ mascot, a dolphin.

I recalled other transphobic — specifically transmisogynist — cultural artifacts that attracted me when I was younger, realizing in fact that so much of the comedy I loved growing up hinged on the joke of crossdressing: Mrs. Doubtfire, Monty Python, Little Britain. Also the joke of gender non-conformity, in the case of It’s Pat. I probably loved these things both because they brought up the topic of gender, which did greatly interest me, and because they shamed me, bullied me away from acknowledging my own truth.

Sometimes I would be forced to leave the apartment. I’d put on new clothes, ones that made me feel a flutter of pride. Friends wouldn’t recognize me. Strangers would stare. Or they’d call me “sir” and I’d be stunned but also unsure whether I wanted to correct them. I also felt that these were the first times I’d ever dared to show myself honestly to the world.

Sometimes I’d run into someone I knew — a girl from back home, a guy from grad school. I’d see them avoid my eyes, sure that they didn’t know me. I’d feel hurt, and then I’d see them realize, say something like, “You got a haircut.”

Sometimes I’d have to attend some event or occasion I hadn’t since the change, like a job interview or funeral. Attempting to dress, I’d fall apart, totally lose nerve. Rob would stand with me, tie my tie, wipe my tears. At that funeral, some relatives didn’t recognize me, and others thought I was my brother. But then they did see it was me.

“Sandy!” they said. After, I’d feel a supreme relief, like at least now they know, even if they don’t get it.

I worked up all the courage I had and made an appointment at an actual barbershop. For years I’d gone to a salon that smelled like chardonnay and chemicals, pretended the whole time I wasn’t having a panic attack.

In the barbershop the men didn’t seem to notice me. I got the cut I wanted. I exited feeling something like pride, rubbing the buzz on the back of my neck. Walking through the park on my way home, I stopped and did something I’d never much been tempted to do before, which was post a selfie. I shook with nerves.

I never used to picture myself in middle or old age, but now I do. That began happening after I came out. Another new thing I started to feel was that I love myself. Not just how I look, my haircut, my style, though I do love those things. I now love my body itself to an extent I’d never have imagined was possible. Before I hated everything about me, body included, totally, powerfully, if for reasons I couldn’t quite spell out.

Presenting myself now, in a way that’s honest about how I’ve always mentally straddled the gender divide, I also feel the cruelty of gender-segregated spaces more sharply. I hate the TSA and avoid changing rooms. Cis women in bathrooms sometimes look shocked or horrified when they see me, or they make frowning remarks (like “This the men’s?”). I contemplate going into men’s rooms but frankly, I’m too scared of men. If I’m being honest, I avoid being in public still, as much as I can.

These days, I’m called “sir” and “ma’am” with equal frequency. Sometimes people think I’m male at first and then realize I’m not, usually when I talk, and sometimes I then see a wild anger in them. In those moments, I feel my vulnerability. Though in other senses I feel safer; I am no longer constantly catcalled, as I was before — that drumbeat of male violence, muffled. All the time I feel how arbitrary these categories are. All the time, I know this is all just about power.

Some who see me now are excited about my apparent difference. In a restaurant, a waitress ran over, grinning, nearly shouting, “What are you?”

The best feelings are the converse of this cisgender othering: the moments of communion, however brief, I share with other queer and trans people out there in the world. Like last June, I walked down Sixth Avenue during the NYC Dyke March, one body in a long splay of bodies, bodies with voices, bodies with drums, and I felt, for the first time ever, like I was surrounded by my peers. I felt really quiet that day, like no words would work. I still find myself unable to describe that feeling of having community. Suffice it to say, it sparked joy.

I’m 31 now, and living a life that a few years ago I couldn’t have imagined. My book’s paperback calls me Sandy and they/them. Rob and I married and moved to an old farmhouse in the country. I now have two floors of rooms to tidy. I often wander delightedly for hours, scrubbing and straightening and vacuuming cat fur and flies and once, with a whoosh — to my great surprise — the skeleton of a baby mouse.

Rob and I write out our chores on a big spool of brown paper by the fridge, to ensure we contribute evenly. I am proud of us, of him, for how we’ve managed to share the responsibilities of maintaining this home. And yet, through all this change, a constant remains, bulging with wires and papers and who knows what else, the one place I’ve accepted I’ll never tidy: his nightstand.

#marie kindo #gender #queer #trans #culture #new #news

[harrysbubba]

Laundry

A/N: this goes from cute to absolute filth ;)

Summary:

* [Y/N] and Harry have some fun in the laundry room at 4am in the morning.

Warnings: pure smut

---

“Shit.”

[Y/N]’s eyes snapped open, mind and body now fully awake and she remembered something she was supposed to do before she fell asleep. Peacefully resting beside her was Harry, his lips slightly parted and hair fallen over his face. [Y/N] gently rolled over to check the time – 4:03am. She groaned and felt that irritating irk of responsibility that she needed to take care of before the morning.

Tomorrow is her graduation and she had everything planned out carefully. Before falling asleep with Harry while watching a movie, she had thrown her outfit in the washing machine and was supposed to take it out and dry it once it was finished. Trying not to disturb Harry, she sits up then slowly makes her way off the bed. Harry stirs slightly as [Y/N] is putting on her shoes. His tired eyes are squinting at her as he props his body on the side of his arm.

         “What’re y’doin’ baby?” Harry asked her in a groggy voice and shifts his hair out of his eyes.

         “Left my clothes in the washing machine and need to go dry them so I’m gonna go do them now, go back to sleep.” [Y/N] said to him.

         “Now? It’s…four in the morning.” Harry looks over at the beside clock to check the time.

         “I know but I need them dry before six at least – takes a while.” She replied.

         “M’coming with you.” Harry pulls the warm blankets off his half naked body and slides into some grey sweatpants and chucks on his own Harry Styles merchandise black hoodie on.

         “What? No, it’s okay I can-“

         “M’not letting you go down to that dodgy laundry room by yourself.” Harry insisted.

[Y/N] huffed and just stopped there. There wasn’t any point in arguing with him and she didn’t really have the energy to. Taking her damp clothes in one hand, the two leave [Y/N]’s dorm and walk downstairs to the basement of the building. Harry was right – it was quite dodgy. There was no carpet on the floor except the cold grey concrete, no windows or sunlight, and one terrible light which dangled from the ceiling that made the entire room dim and eerie.

[Y/N] opens up the dryer, throws her clothes in before inserting a few coins then closing the lid and setting the timer. There was no point in going back upstairs, neither of them could be bothered anyways. [Y/N] hoists herself onto the clothes folding bench as Harry lazily walks over to her and stands between her legs. She wraps her arms around him as he does the same around her waist. The two of them stay like this for a bit, just soaking up each other’s comfort and warmth, and almost falling asleep again due to the humidity in the basement. With his hands still on her body Harry shifts himself so that he is able to steal a kiss from [Y/N].

         “Love you.” Harry sings out of nowhere.

         “I love you too.” [Y/N] replies with a laugh.

         “Look so pretty when you’re sleepy.” He comments and swipes a strand of her hair out of her eyes.

         “You’re such a sap Styles.” [Y/N] playfully nudges his shoulder with her hand.

         “Heeeey, don’t push me.” Harry whines like a child.

         “I swear your five years old.” [Y/N] rolls her eyes with smile on her face.

         “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Harry gasped. [Y/N] had a slight hint of innocence on her face, as Harry backs away from her and crosses his arms.

    ��    “Nooo come back! You’re warm!” She cries.

Harry just stood his ground and turned his head the other way. The couple were always so childish together and thank god they could relate to each other as well because none of their friends understood any of their humour whatsoever. Just about every time they had a friend outing or a dinner, it would always be them two either minding their own business or on their own buzz. Nobody could really understand them, but that’s what made them jealous because they had a relationship like no other.

         “Nope, staying right where I am.” Harry huffed, readjusting his arms that were still crossed over his chest.

[Y/N] thought about how she could get him back over here and there was one protruding idea that miraculously popped up in her brain. However, it was risky. She didn’t know who might come down or if there were any security camera’s. But her eyes scanned all four corners of the room and there were no cameras to her satisfaction. So she decided to proceed with her idea, regardless of who might walk in even though it was four in the morning. She spread her legs a little bit wider than they were before, the hem of her pyjama shorts riding up her thigh as Harry took in a very strong notice.

         “Please baby.” [Y/N] whines at him

Harry just about went cold in the face when he realised what she was up to. Except he just stood there and allowed her to torture him like that. He intently watches her every single move, her hands shifting from resting on the sides of the bench to sliding down her body and into her shorts and in between her underwear. The situation was completely in [Y/N]’s hands and Harry still refrained himself from giving into her temptations. Her head leans back as she starts to rub small circles against her clit, swallowing hard as the pleasure slowly but gradually starts to build up.

To Harry, this particular state of [Y/N] urged him to go over to her, rip her panties off and take her right there and then. But Harry started to play this out to his advantage. Within the next few minutes, he knew that she would want him to touch her, knowing that her hands aren’t as good as his. Harry was able to work [Y/N] in ways that nobody had ever before. He knew her body like the back of his hand. But to turn the situation around, Harry stood there just watching and waiting for her to beg for him, only then, and if she was lucky, Harry would give in.  

[Y/N]’s breathing became heavier, uneven and a lot hotter. Harry’s name dripping from her lips quietly as she became painfully close to her orgasm. He became just as needy for her, growing harder in his pants had shown it.

         “Oh god – fuck.” [Y/N]’s breath hitched in her throat, the pleasure just about making her spill over the edge until she stopped suddenly.

         “Harry can you…” Trying to regain a stable breathing pattern back, [Y/N] can barely ask Harry for what she truly wants.

         “Can I what baby?” Harry teases her.

         “D-Do something please.” [Y/N] begs. There was a split second before he nearly caved into her request, until Harry came up with a brilliant idea.  

         “Got a better idea – hop off.” Harry says to her.

She trusts his method, jumps off the bench like Harry asked her to as she’s guided back over to the driers. His hands find [Y/N]’s waist, twirling her around as her back is pressed against the drier. Meanwhile Harry’s hot breath is wavering over her neck before he plunges his mouth straight over her skin. It’s a slight form of relief of her sexual frustration, but [Y/N] wanted way more than what Harry was giving to her. Caught up in the prominent thought of wanting Harry touch her badly, his hands dip from her waist to under her thighs, hoisting her up onto the rattling dryer. She was taken by surprise at Harry’s actions, but she gradually understood what he was trying to achieve.

The vibrations of the dryer rattled the lower half of [Y/N]’s body. It was a new sensation, but she learned quick to love it.

         “Now, what d’you want me to do kitten?” Harry asks [Y/N] intently, hands rubbing her thighs.

         “Want your mouth, please Harry.” [Y/N] pleaded for him.

         “Go’head take your shorts off f’me pet.” Harry instructed her.

She complies with his demand and slowly peels them off, leaving herself in just her panties. Harry just about drools over her because of how much he loved her body. Every square inch he wanted to kiss and love on even more the next day. [Y/N] places her shorts to the side and does the same with her worry about someone coming in. Using both of his hands, he pulls [Y/N] closer to the edge of the dryer, but not too much that she wasn’t able to feel the vibrations of the dryer.

As she’s close enough, Harry moves her hands from the small of her back, to her hips giving them a squeeze then slides her panties off. But before Harry wants to please his Missus, he plants more kisses on her neck, making his way across her jaw then meeting her soft lips. Slowly but surely, Harry moves on and succumbs to [Y/N]’s desires.

She props both of her hands behind her for support as Harry kisses her entrance. A hiss escapes her mouth as Harry licks one warm individual stripe up her slit. She hated being teased, but Harry could make it fun and exciting when needed. However at this given rate, [Y/N] just wanted to feel that sweet euphoric release.

Harry starts to become more consistent with his tongue, eating her out like he was deprived of it for weeks. The drier beneath [Y/N]’s body started to take its toll, aiding Harry to help her get to the absolute best orgasm possible. It’s constant vibration shooting through her as she could feel herself coming undone by the second.

         “Baby.” [Y/N] moans quietly, at first.

Harry breaks away momentarily, lifting up his index finger, slowly pushing it inside [Y/N] with ease. Her chest rises as her breath is hitched again, taken away by such a simple pleasure. After a few slow pumps Harry, brings his finger to his mouth and licks off her juices before inserting - now two fingers.

         “Oh my god - yes!” [Y/N] cries in pleasure.

He dips back down into her, flicking his tongue in all different directions over her clit and at the same time, fucking her with his fingers. Times like these is where [Y/N] was so grateful at how skilful Harry was with his mouth, and of course he had other talents that could make her scream.

         “What d’ya say pet?” Harry looks up at her, writhing tremendously on top of the dryer.

         “T-Thank you Harry.” She says breathlessly.

         “S’more like it, gonna make you feel so good princess.” Harry swears by what he says and [Y/N] knows from experience. If Harry says he going to make her cum hard - he will make her cum hard.

         “Fuck, Harry please I’m gonna cum!” She latches a fistful of Harrys curly hair as he relentlessly pumps his fingers in and out of her and licking over and over again on her clit.

          “Yes!” [Y/N] cries out one final time as her orgasm bubbles over.

[Y/N]’s thighs were shaking around Harry’s head, not showing her any mercy in stopping.  She cupped her mouth to restrain herself from screaming because that’s what her desire was. [Y/N] felt so overstimulated that it was rolling into another high, but her body could only take so much pleasure. Her body was rocked by a powerful surge of euphoria and bliss, as her silent orgasm came to a sweet end.

Harry slowly pumped his fingers to try and slow everything down for her. He knew she would’ve been pretty tired, so he detached himself from her before sucking on both of his fingers to get taste her. Still trembling on top of the dryer, the machine below her whirls and the mechanical ruckus dies down.

         “Oh...my god.” She pants in disbelief.

         “So pretty when you cum darling.” Harry grabs her panties from the other dryer, sliding the back up her legs followed by her shorts as she shimmies into them.

         “S’pecially on my face.” He added.

         “Haaarrrryyyyy.” She whines in embarrassment, covering her face with her hands.

         “S’true pet, not even gonna ask if you like the dryer.” Harry said with a smug look.

#Harry Styles #harry styles smut #liam payne #louis tomlinson #Niall Horan #Zayn Malik #one direction smut #one direction #5sos #5sos smut #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #michael clifford #calum hood

[raptorginger]

Samhain: Chapter 1 - Yule

for @reysexualkylo

Prologue here

Rey huffed and grunted as she tried to push her shovel through the wet, heavy snow in her driveway.  The plastic blade made horrible grinding sounds as she pushed and pushed before it caught on a patch of thick ice frozen to the asphalt.  

“Fucking bullshit,” she snarled as she gave the stubborn wet mess a particularly hard shove with the blade.  She was rewarded by being thrown off balance and falling hard on her ass.

“Fuck!” she swore as she felt the cold wet snow seep through her jeans.  She pulled herself up using the shovel for balance, dusting the grit off the bottom edge of her coat and jeans.  Rey stuck the blade of the shovel into the nearby snowbank and stomped off, her heavy boots clomping and thunking as she wound her way through her messy garage and into her warm house.

Bracing herself with one hand on the counter in her mud room, she toed off her soaked boots and placed them on the plastic mat to drain and dry and shrugged off her heavy winter coat that was maybe two sizes too big and threw it in the mess sink.  The dryer had finished its cycle in the time she’d been outside, and Rey silently thanked whatever gods were out there that it had.  She tugged open the small door, the dry warmth and the smell of Bounce wafting out, and grabbed the clothes and threw them into her white plastic basket.  She carried the load on her hip as she made her way through her small galley kitchen and into her living room, tossing the basket on the couch.  She rooted around the warm clothes until she found a pair of wool socks, her favorite black sweatpants, and a blue long sleeve t-shirt.  She grabbed a pair of underwear as well and headed to the bathroom, figuring what the hell, might as well change my skivvies too.

Rey shed her cold damp clothes quickly and tugged on the warm ones, sighing contentedly.  She tugged her brush roughly through her chestnut hair, currently wet and tangled from the snow and the hat she wore to keep her ears warm.  Her freckled cheeks and nose were flushed from the cold, her hazel eyes looking greener against the bright red.  She went back into her kitchen and flipped on her electric kettle to make a mug of tea, setting out her largest cup and tearing open a bag of English Breakfast with her teeth.  She was folding her clothes and listening to a comedy special on Netflix when her doorbell rang.  She let out a huff, paused the TV, and went to the door.  Standing on her tiptoes to peer through the peephole, she saw her old neighbor Luke standing on her porch.  She smiled and threw the door open.  Luke was always out east helping his sister Leia with one thing or another, but he always made it a point to stop in and see Rey when he got back.

“Luke!  What a surprise!” Rey exclaimed after she’d shuffled him inside and taken his coat.

“Hey kid.  Snow giving you some trouble?”  Luke asked jovially.

Rey laughed.  “Yeah, a little.  How was your sister’s?”

Rey’s smile faded when she saw Luke’s clear blue eyes darken with some heavy sadness.  His jovial tone didn’t change, however, as he replied, “Oh great!  Managed to get some things...done.”

Rey figured she must have been imagining the darkness in his eyes.  “Well, come on in!  Have a seat!  Want some tea?” she offered as the kettle whistled.

“Tea’d be great, Rey, thanks!”

Rey got down another mug and tore open another tea bag and set about fixing their brews.  She set a box of day old pastries down on the table in front of Luke and set their mugs down, giving the tea bags a few dunks before extracting them from the hot water and setting them on a small plate.  Was it her imagination again, or did Luke look older?  She noticed he winced as he lifted his mug off the table, as if his side hurt.

“Everything okay?” she asked with some concern.

Luke cleared his throat, having taken too large a sip of hot tea.  “Yeah yeah, just getting old,” he replied, giving her a self-deprecating smile.  “Can’t do as many things as I used to.”

Rey smiled sympathetically as she sipped her tea.  Her eyes widened when she saw a vicious gash across the back of his hand as he reached for a ginger molasses cookie.  “Jesus, Luke! What the hell happened to your hand?”

Luke quickly dropped the cookie and hid his hand in his lap beneath the table.  “Uhh, broken glass.”

Rey harrumphed.  It wasn’t her imagination.  He was hiding something.  Luke was staring into his tea and she stared at him.  She felt herself slipping into middle distance, almost like she was trying to look into the space between spaces.  A fuzzy picture came to her mind.  A forest in the dead of winter.  The grey wood of the trees.  A thick layer of brown leaves coating the ground.  A vast glassy lake with a few patches of thin frosty ice.  Three hooded figures dashing through the woods, cloaks fluttering and rippling as they ran.  A short figure in greyish purple.  A tall figure in navy blue, somewhat hunched.  A tall figure, broader than the other, in all black.  They held different weapons.  The small figure, a silver pistol.  The medium figure, a shotgun.  The tall figure, a massive greatsword.  The sword was covered in some kind of black liquid.  They were chasing...something.  Rey couldn’t tell.  She could hear a strange otherworldly chittering ahead, and she shivered.

Rey froze when the figure in black stopped and turned, looking through her.  His face was hidden beneath his black hood and wrapped in a black mask below his eyes, but those eyes were a warm dark whiskey brown.  They widened in surprise as he looked at her.  At her, not through her, Rey realized with surprise.  She felt a warmth spread through her limbs, her fingers tingling pleasantly.

“Rey?” Luke called.  He sounded so far away.  The vision faded from Rey’s mind.

Rey shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.  That was...odd.  It was like the dreams she’d been having at night, but during the day this time.  And when she was awake.  None of the figures had ever looked at her before.  Luke was watching her, his expression carefully blank.  She smiled weakly.

“Sorry, got lost in a daydream for a second there,” she said with an apologetic shrug.

Luke coughed and scratched his temple.  “Right.  Daydream.  Yeah.  Look, I better get going.  Need to...unpack.  Thanks for the tea, kid.”  He stood abruptly and grabbed his coat from the nearby chair where Rey had thrown it.

Rey followed Luke to the door, still feeling like there was something he wasn’t telling her.  Something that she was missing.

“Hey, let me know if you need help with anything.  You are getting older,” Rey said with a smile, trying to bring the mood back to the jovial one they’d had when Luke walked in.

“Yeah, I will,” Luke replied cryptically, tugging on his coat and walking out the door.  Rey watched him jog the length of her walk, closing her front door with a quiet snap when he’d dashed out of sight.

“What the hell?” Rey muttered to herself as she walked back to her living room in a sort of daze.  Luke had been weird.  Well, weirder than normal.  He lived like a hermit in their little neighborhood, so a little bit of weird was not unusual from him.  But this was something else.

Rey folded the rest of her clean laundry distractedly and put the neat stacks back in the basket to carry to her room later.  At the moment, she felt strangely exhausted.  Probably from the damn shoveling, Rey thought.  She flopped on her couch and turned Netflix back on, switching from the comedy special to one of the Jurassic Parks.  She tugged her favorite blanket over her, rolling a couple of times so it was tucked under her, creating a warm woolen cocoon.  She snuggled into the soft throw pillow and closed her eyes, sleep taking her before she could hear Mr. Muldoon cry out “Shoot her!!!”

***

Rey felt herself flying over valleys, mountains, and glens.  Over cities and farms.  Straight to the heart of an ancient forest.  She landed with a hard ‘thud’, throwing dead leaves and dirt up around her with the force of her landing.  Strangely enough, nothing hurt, despite the landing.  She wasn’t cold either, despite the fact that it was the middle of winter and she still appeared to be in her socks and lazy clothes.  She rose cautiously, looking around.  Something felt...off about this place.  Not quite right.  Rey saw nothing and no one around her, save for trees bereft of their leaves.  Naked branches stretched towards the sky like claws.  A gentle snow was falling, soft fat flakes landing on and around her.  Rey stepped forward cautiously, looking this way and that like a scared rabbit.  She heard a gentle feminine voice whispering through the trees, and she turned her head abruptly in the direction of the sound, following it with ginger steps.  After walking a few paces, the voice suddenly fell silent.  Rey inhaled sharply and held her breath.  The whole forest had seemed to fall silent.  She looked around and still saw nothing.  

She was about to take another step forward when her toe nudged something.  Looking down, she saw a scabbard partially obscured by dead leaves and snow.  Rey crouched down and dusted the detritus off the weapon, plucking it from the ground and looking it over curiously.  Grasping the ivory handle just above the silver hilt with one hand and holding the scabbard with the other, she gave a tug.  The weapon came out easily, and Rey’s mouth dropped open as she regarded the blade.  It was a beautiful weapon.  An elegantly curved long sword, forged from glimmering steel, sparkled in the winter sun.  If Rey didn’t know better, she’d think it was silver.  But no one made weapons from silver.  Delicate filigree was carved near the handle, and Rey ran her fingers over it gently.  She stood and gave it a few experimental swings, finding the weapon incredibly well balanced in her hand.  Holding it out, Rey realized it seemed to glow, radiating a faint blue light.  Must be a trick of the light, she mused, tucking the blade back in its scabbard.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a deep voice whispered from somewhere behind her.

Rey screamed as she whirled around, catching a glimpse of a tall figure in a black cloak, hood up and the hem dusted with dirt and snow before she woke up on her couch with a violent start.  She was off balance and fell on the floor, tangled in her blanket.  She struggled and thrashed, finally freeing herself.  She scrambled to her feet, reaching for a sword that wasn’t there and looking around for the man in black.  She swore she heard a laugh somewhere.

She was home.  She was alone.  She’d never felt so alone.  She felt a strange tug in her head.

“You’re not alone,” she heard the deep voice whisper, as if the man it belonged to was still nearby.

She screamed again and again and held the sides of her head until she felt the voice disappear.

What THE FUCK was that?!

***

Luke sighed and watched the flames dance in his fireplace.  His hot toddy sat beside him on a small table, untouched.  Something was troubling him.  He needed to know if it was her.  He’d moved here firm in that belief, and her episode today over tea had reinforced that belief.  He closed his eyes and focused.  He could sense the girl, Rey, next door.  Her emotions were in tumult.  She was terrified.  She had dreamed of the forest.  Well, not dreamed.  Luke knew she had projected herself to the forest without meaning to.  Had...Luke furrowed his brows in concentration.  Holy hell.  She’d found the sword.  And then...Luke followed the feeling with his mind.  Something had frightened her.  Startled her out of the projection.  Luke groaned and rubbed his eyes.  His idiot nephew had scared her.  Dammit, Ben...Wait a minute what’s this?  Luke followed a different thread in Rey’s mind, tenuous and winding though it was.  It was attached to something.  Someone.  He gave it a tug.  He felt someone tug back.

“Uncle Luke?”  he heard Ben ask in confusion.  “What are you doing in my head?  Also, rude!”

Luke’s eyes shot open, severing his connection to Rey’s mind.  And, apparently, to Ben’s.

“Shit!” he shouted with excitement as he raced for his phone, his fingers shaking as he dialed the only number he had committed to memory.  He didn’t think this would happen in his lifetime...

He waited impatiently while the phone rang.  Finally, he heard his twin’s distinctive and commanding voice.  “Luke?”

“Leia.  It’ definitely her.  The girl, Rey.  And…,” Luke hesitated, unsure of how his sister would take the news.  “It’s him.  It’s Ben.  It has to be.”

“I KNEW IT!” Leia shrieked on the other end of the phone, so loud Luke had to hold the receiver away from his ear.  He hung up when she started calling for Han.

Luke tented his fingers and sat back in his ancient leather armchair, the blood red leather groaning as he shifted.  

What the hell do I do now?  How do you tell a twenty-something mechanic that they’re the key to defeating ancient Abyssal evil?  And that you need to introduce them to your hot-headed nephew?

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #modern au #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #rey x ben solo #good vs evil #witches #warlocks #haunted woods feels #the balance #reylo au