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#so stuff like this usually gets removed at the last minute after it's been edited and everything
softerhaze · 1 year
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random outtakes that make me feel some type of way 💌
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the-reading-lemon · 4 months
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20 questions for fic writers
With big thanks to @totallysilvergirl for tagging me in this - I had a ton of fun answering these!
How many works do you have on Ao3? 24 but that number will continue to go up.
What's your total Ao3 word count? 1,086,156 words. Another number that will continue to go up.
What fandoms do you write for? BBC Sherlock. I have one Cabin Pressure oneshot and some unpublished stuff for other fandoms, as well as some old fics for other fandoms that I never put on Ao3 and likely never will.
What are your top five fics by kudos? Dog Days, Evolve, The Noble Heart, Blanket Burrito and Stolen.
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes! I love comments and I usually respond to all the comments I get just before or just after posting the next chapter of a fic. This means that I sometimes forget to reply to the comments on the final chapter unless I remember to go back, but I read (and squeal over) every single one. Comments are love, no matter if they are full-on essays or keysmashes or a series of emojis or all-caps yelling. I adore them all.
What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? It's probably a tie between "Imagine being loved (by me)", which is part 1 of my monster, and part 3, "The Last Shred of Truth". Neither is truly angsty angsty, but they definitely aren't super happy, either, depending on your point of view. BUT they're part of a series, so those particular reasons for angst get resolved eventually.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Any of my other fics, I guess. I'm sure all my readers have their own opinions on which one, so I'll leave it up to them to decide. My personal favourite ending is Dog Days, and I put the reason why into my authors note for it.
Do you get hate on fics? Luckily, I don't. I once got a number of comments by a Holmescest shipper that made me really uncomfortable and eventually became so crass that I had to ask them to edit or remove a comment as it might disturb other readers. They deleted it and I never heard from them again. I don't know why they were reading my Johnlock fics in the first place, so that was no big loss.
Do you write smut? Yes. I should add that I am ace, so any smut I write is based on a lot of guesswork and learning from other fanfic writers. So far, no one has complained, so I think I'm doing it right. And I am trying to get even better at it, because it's honestly quite fun. Let your characters fuck, people!
Do you write crossovers? Yes! I have several, in fact: The Destruction of Ice is a crossover between BBC Sherlock and Nalini Singh's Psy-Changeling book series. I shamelessly stole her world and some characters have cameos, but you don't need to be familiar with the books to enjoy the fic. I am still planning the sequel for it, and one day I will get around to writing it! Another crossover is not yet out, as I discovered rather last-minute that it is lacking a proper climax (in terms of the plot), so it will continue to be on ice until I can think of a good one. I'm quite eager to finish it, though. It has dragons!
Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of, but I had a fic shamelessly copied that I had painstakingly translated into German. It was someone else's fic, I got permission to translate it, and then someone went and stole the idea and changed the ship to my NOTP. The cheek! Luckily, my readers were quick to come to my defense, politely pointed out that the whole thing had very clearly been stolen (it was beat-for-beat the same) and the thief deleted it after only posting two or three chapters.
Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, and as someone with a Master's degree in translation, that fills me with a lot of pride and awe, because I know exactly how hard that is. Just please don't feed my works into any translation engines or any other AI, such as ChatGPT, DeepL or Google Translate! This also goes for any other fic authors' works unless you have EXPRESS PERMISSION by the author. No one wants their work stolen and used to train an AI without their consent.
Have you ever co-written a fic before? No. A friend and I plotted a story together once, but it never went anywhere. I don't think I would be very good at co-writing a fic simply based on my approach to writing: I have about a dozen active fics I write on and jump between projects all the time and then there are a ton of "frozen" fics that I haven't touched in a while. I project-hop until one is finished and then post it, so the process can take years or months or a couple of days, depending on the fic and my mood. That doesn't lend itself well to co-writing with anyone else.
What's your all-time favourite ship? It's Johnlock. I'm afraid I took one look at a gay disaster genius and a repressed bisexual jealous trash bin and was lost forever. Right after Johnlock are, in no particular order: the Ineffable Husbands, Gentlebeard, Moist von Lipwig and Adorabelle Dearheart, Sam Vimes and Sybil Ramkin, and Patrick Jane and Teresa Lisbon.
What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Listen, I have about 70 WIPS in my Sherlock folder right at this moment and I firmly believe I will finish all of them. Eventually. Whether I will also post all of them is a completely different question. If there's any WIP I doubt I will ever finish, it's probably one of my original novels. But, god, I want to.
What are your writing strengths? Based on readers' reviews, writing ANGST is very much up there. The emotional kind, in particular. I love a good pining, slow-burn, angsty fic. I also enjoy writing banter and ridiculous dialogue and I LOVE writing pompous Mycroft and Sherlock arguing with him. Another strength is speed. I can write A LOT in a very short amount of time (think about 1-1.2k in 20 minutes), which drives my fellow writers to despair and has led to all sorts of jokes about me having mechanical fingers and/or made a pact with the devil. I wouldn't claim it's all top quality, though.
What are your writing weaknesses? This depends on the language I write in. In English, descriptions are the bane of my existence, as are fight scenes, so I try to avoid them (I say, while writing a story that includes lots of fights). I hope I have gotten much better at smut than I used to be. When I write in my native language, German, descriptions are easy and tend to be rather funny or tongue-in-cheek. Emotions, on the other hand, become horribly difficult and everything sounds far too kitschy for me to ever post it.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? As a German native speaker writing in English, technically all my dialogue is written in another language. For the purpose of this question, though: I love peppering in some German when I have the chance, and my fic "Stolen" contains a couple of lines of French. As I do not speak French, I asked a fellow translator to have a look at them to confirm I got them right, though. There is nothing that makes my teeth hurt quite as much as seeing someone using a foreign language incorrectly. If you want to include it in your story, at least have a native speaker check your grammar and spelling.
19. First fandom you wrote for? A German scripted reality detective series (see the trend here?!) called "K11 - Kommissare im Einsatz". This was also how I discovered fanfiction as a concept. I was 13 and blown away by the possibilities. I posted my first fic on my 14th birthday and haven't stopped writing fanfic since. First for that show, then for House MD, where I switched to writing in English. Then The Mentalist, and finally Sherlock, where I've been stuck ever since. Those of you who know a thing or two about Sherlock Holmes pastiches will notice a commonality.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Dog Days. I had SO MUCH FUN writing this. Immediately followed by a WIP which is an AU to my monster (The Lost Myth of True Love series) because I love my Victor so very much.
Tagging: @carpenoctem-tharea, @radley-writes, @reign-of-crows, @leia-stark and anyone else who hasn't been tagged in this yet and would like to have a go! This was so much fun!
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meraki-writes · 1 year
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How Could You? (Sam & Colby)
Summary: Growing old with his longtime crush was something Colby had hoped for the moment he met her. He had a popular youtube channel which made everyone happy. What more could he ask for? He had the world's greatest best friend, the world's greatest girl by his side, the greatest supporters he could have ever asked for. He was living his best life... Until it slowly vanished in front of his very eyes.
Finishing up the editing from his recent video, he sighed and leaned back. He only had a few hours before he had to upload it, after all, he did promise his supporters a new video at 3 am. Realizing he was a moron for rushing himself, he facepalmed and laughed. Walking to his bed, he took notice of the sleeping girl in his bed. Smiling, he climbed into bed and held her.
Setting an alarm for 2:50 am, he held his girlfriend tightly and fell asleep. When his alarm went off, he waited a few minutes to upload then he went back to sleep. Waking up the next morning, he felt nothing against him, so he figured it was time to wake up. Going downstairs, he found Sam and Y/n getting ready, as usual, they wore matching outfits.
Colby and Sam were friends, best friends. When Y/n came along, she grew close to Sam first, he made her feel safe and eventually and after a lot of convincing, Colby made her feel the same way. He knew they were going to have their moments of friendly PDA, but that still didn't stop him from feeling jealous whenever he witnessed it.
Y/n and him did PDA, but he wasn't big on doing it unless he had to show everyone who she belonged to. Now that he realizes it, maybe he should have did it in the beginning of their relationship. Maybe if he had, his supporters wouldn't be so convinced Sam is dating her.
Colby looked at Y/n, smiling and giggling with Sam, she looked happier with him. Whenever she was around Colby, she would avoid him. She wasn't always like that, she used to be kind and very clingy towards him, but one day it just stopped.
"Where are you two going?"
Stopping their conversation, Sam looked at Y/n and smiled at her before realizing Colby asked them a question.
"What's up, bro?"
Glancing at Y/n, he noticed she grabbed her stuff and was ready to walk out the door, not before she gave Sam's hand a squeeze. The action didn't go unnoticed by Colby, he was going to question her about it when she returned.
"I'm taking her to get a new phone, her last one broke when we went ice skating. Clumsy girl fell on it."
Laughing slightly, Colby rubbed his eyes trying to remove the tiredness from his system.
"I'll get on my clothes and come with, I've been meaning to check out some new cameras."
Shaking his head frantically, Sam held Colby's arm and squeezed tightly.
"Don't! I mean, don't. You're still tired, you need a break. I promise, she'll be back before you know it."
Looking at Sam, Colby noticed he was right. The last couple of weeks, with filming and then things with Y/n, he was exhausted, but he didn't want to make his friend feel like a second option.
"It's fine, dude. I can sleep later."
Biting his lip, Sam ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Looking at Y/n again, he looked at her apologetically then back at Colby.
"Just stay here, Colbs. She doesn't want to be around you right now."
Too tired to even process anything, the only words he heard were to stay at home so he did. Nodding his head, he yawned and went upstairs, but not before telling him to have a safe trip.
Sighing and looking down, Sam felt bad for what he was doing, but he couldn't help it. It made her calm and relaxed, not to mention, what they were doing was helping him too. He just didn't know what would happen if anyone found out..
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liniestlink · 2 months
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First Story
I posted this on my cohost first and will remain posting every writing I do there first and then sending it over to here at a later date.
A story I wrote in early high school fresh after reading A Clockwork Orange and you can tell, I went through, edited, and changed a few things but this is still the same story I wrote so many years ago. It is not good, you have been warned!
Date wrote: December 17, 2014
So… this is the story of a little incident that occurred about over two months ago, I wasn’t able to reflect on the incident until now due to personal connections so- please bear with me as I relive this event. It all started on January 4th, 1994, it was a rather chilly night as me and a friend were strolling down an alley as per-usual; we would stumble around and kick things just being carefree juveniles. Now none of this is to care for but I’m foretelling what has happened leading up to that day. I came over to my friend for no reason at all and struck him--- He looked at me dazed and confused and in a calm tone spoke to me in disfigured words. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying because to be truthful I didn’t give a damn. So, after he put himself together, he got up and left; I smirked at the sight of his back to me, this was a sign that I had taken down yet another coward.
I sat alone in the cold as I looked back at the events that had just occurred, I snickered and checked my watch it read “twelve twenty-five” I slowly got up and finally decided maybe I should be on my way. I arrived at the shack of a home that I partake of slumbering in around one in the morning of course no-one was home. I went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of some mischievous liquids and went on my way to bed. I awoke late into the night to a loud thump; I spoke to myself “Blasted idiots can’t they be quite when they come home” I go downstairs and to my surprise it wasn’t my parents, It was the friend of mine who I had recently ruffed up, in his hands smashing my stuff was a bat and at that moment I knew it was going to be a long night. I slowly walked in front of him “what are you doing in my house you dirty skunk” he replied in such hatred “I’m going to teach you not to mess with the great Attila he then attempted to strike me down but to his sad effort I laughed and spit on it. “The great Attila, ha what a sad name but it fits a fool like yourself so come make a mockery of yourself, I’m begging you.” This enraged the young fool as he charged this time... But I was mistaken for where he was swinging and found the bat on my knee, the pain was tremendous, and I fell onto my other knee.
He was quick to strike again and hit me upon my head and I dropped like a bag of bricks as he continued to beat me with the bat to a bloody mess. This was my last moment as he turned around so I reacted I slowly rose up and grabbed him by the shirt… the air then filled with a mixture of red to be exact, it didn’t take long for the night to go by but when I awoke the kid was gone leaving his filthy blood on my stuff; I must of got him real good I smirked at the thought of the bleeding limping fool. I slowly pushed myself up and grabbed my side in pain, I removed my hand and noticed it was drenched in red I winced and then slowly walked towards the door and swung it open; I stumbled around outside for about ten minutes before I collapsed in some random yard as I turned the snow around me red… it wasn’t long before the day went dark. I awoke inside a house freshly bandaged confused, dazed and not wanting the cops to find me I get up and head out of the stranger's door back out into the day, I glance at my wound bandaged now and thought a grateful thought but brushed it off in a matter of seconds. I didn’t need the help if I would have died, I would have died it didn’t mean any difference to me I rather be dead then live in such a dreadful world as I live in now but if I were to die it would be by someone else’s hand as death by my own would be a cowardly move. Since I was slashed last, days have gone by, I’ve done nothing. Its January 9th here and the new year is fresh and already filled with misery, but I believe it’s going to get worse from here on out and boy was I right but at first it wasn’t. As usual I walked to the old gas stand to pick up some milk and a little pint of the ol’ mischievous liquid. Now this isn’t what was eye catching about today as it was usual for me but what did catch my eye was a rather familiar face at first, I didn’t recognize the young fool and I imagine he either didn’t see me or was scared but it was the boy who gave me this dreadful gash. I could have attacked him right in the store but I rather not have witnesses so I will wait to find him and then the snow will be lined in his filthy blood just like it was with mine only a few days ago. So, I’ve been thinking what I will do and use to carry out my lovely act… oh boy the thoughts and ideas fill me with joy and delight.
A couple of days have passed since the run-in but nonetheless here we are surprisingly not rotting in jail, yet. It was a rather cool day especially for it being January, the wind was light, and the snowflakes drifted ever so kindly. It seems like a perfect day, but I haven’t had my way with that fool. I walked over to where I wanted to go. It was at the gas pump store a few days ago, I went in and bought some potato crisps and another bottle of that fine mischievous liquids this one had a fantastic smell like grapes to be exact. I walked outside and, on my way home in the alley I noticed someone just sitting, I wore a devious smirk and walked into the alley; maybe this wasn’t who I was after but either way the fun was coming. So, I walked up to this fool and roughed him up a bit, stealing the little cash he had and this lovely watch he had, now the fun was cut short when he yelped loudly, so I took off not taking a chance of ending up in the local jail. I was very cheerful after that today was a very cheerful day, I danced and sang on my way home with dried red on my knuckles and the biggest smirk on my face oh boy oh boy was today turning out to be one swell of a day. I arrived home around five and settled in on the sofa looking up gazing at the ceiling, that was the last thing I saw before I dazed off into slumber for the next few hours.
So, I awoke after a long night on the eve of January 15th. It was a Sunday and the Friday before stirred up some fools speaking of bad mojo as if a silly thing like mojo even existed such naive fools. I ran into that agitating idiot Attila and oh boy was today a great day to stop his chest from flowing. As you might have guessed, yes, he’s gone, and I could be in a few days if the cops catch on, but they’re fools, we will see how this all pans out. It was a Sunday and I was by the stream, this is where it happen I ran up on the poor Attila while fishing he noticed me right away, He looked at me and smirked “come back for more eh’” I walked slowly to him “You won’t be walking nor breathing any longer” so he got up and pulled out a pocket knife, I knew that if I didn’t end him here I wasn’t going to come back from this one. We walked in a circle staring each other down, it didn’t take long for him to lunge and get me good, really good to be exact his blade was now completely red and I was in a painful situation but he must have thought he won which was a huge mistake as I lunged onto him grabbing his arm and pushing his head underwater. I then held it there for minutes after he stopped moving, after I pulled him out, I smirked and began kicking him, for the final touch, I took his knife and jammed it into his chest.
January 19th, it took them long enough, but they found the trash that I left behind and now it was all over the news, but being the great person I am, I seemed to have left no evidence this time, so I watch and laugh at their pitiful efforts. The coppers did come to talk today but oddly it wasn’t for questioning of the murder but oddly enough it was if I was doing fine, now this is rather odd seeing on how there was a murder recently that I was involved in, maybe they suspect me. My suspicions were greatened through the past few days as they continuously stopped by to check on me, I knew what I had to do; I had to leave or be sent to jail and have a rather miserable life from here on out. Today is January 20th. I’m going to go out and buy some supplies such as food before I go to Ukaly where a friend awaits me. He promises to help me out seeing as I’m in a bit of trouble. It could be a day or two before I report again if I ever do it again.
So… I believe it’s January 23rd and my suspicions were correct; I should have just gone to jail it would have been a lot better than what happened. So, let’s recount on the events that took place the last three days, well on January 21st I arrived in Ukaly and stayed at my friend’s house. Now when things turned sour, he was the least person I would suspect to push me to the ground but he did, maybe I deserve all that’s happened this month for the things I’ve done… too late to turn back now what happened, happened. I stayed at my friend’s house that night and that wasn’t it as on January 22nd I was forced out and beaten by him… I don’t know why this happened from what I remember I didn’t do him wrong… well not to him personally. I may have did something unspeakable to a family member of his, his sister to be exact, that’s it then the world is turning on me for the bad I have done maybe it’s trying to force me to change but that’s not how this works; try to change me it won’t work not even with karma I’ll just strike back harder.
It's January 24th. I left Ukaly after I paid my old pal a visit. You should have seen his face as I stood there beating it in with a pipe; his screams filled me with such delight. I left him lying there barely breathing. Now I’m not the bad guy here, he was most indefinitely asking for the beating, you never provoke your superior. Now that there was nowhere left to go, I decided to go back to where it all started, I was going back home where I should have stayed all this time. I took off from Ukaly the day I beat that fool to death and arrived home on January 25th back to the pitiful town of Besharan’ my hometown, I waited outside the city limits till night fell just in case the police were still after me (if they even were in the first place.)
The police were waiting for me in my house to apprehend me and take me off to the brig. Look at this, the month is nearly over, and I have to spend it in jail, there is no sign of life in this cell just cold and the void of darkness. I wonder how long I’ll be here; I can’t take it in this dreadful place. Jail isn’t the place for me to be, I can’t do what I wish to do anymore, hopefully I get off with a fine of some sort seeing as this all happened in self-defense technically.
Hello, my good people, sorry to bring you such fright, I know I was a little late. I had the most wonderful time and now five vessels lay ready to be shipped off. I won’t go into too great of detail seeing as I got a little carried away, the initial plan was for only one or maybe two and come describe them full on but seeing as there’s a few more I’ll just give a brief explanation of each. So first off let’s start with the young lass I got to know, I may have enjoyed her to much especially after the eyes rolled out; sadly, for her family they won’t recognize her anymore poor little girl you were fun while it lasted. Now for the next unlucky visitor his name was Ronald he actually was off work at the time I meet him, the poor miserable man, something rose in me after I got rid of him, a disgusting feeling in me, what’s wrong?
I’m sorry, it is now January 29th and after these few days of silence, I don’t feel the same anymore, I feel a sickness deep within myself and I don’t know what to do. Is this what guilt feels like? I don’t know how much longer I can allow this feeling to eat at me, maybe some hard medication can help ease this feeling and I can go back to how I used to be. It’s now one thirty in the morning and I’m shaking the images of people I have hurt keep flowing into my mind and my stomach continues to grow uneasily… this feeling is swallowing me alive and there seems to be no escape; even the countless pills don’t help me. How could I have these feelings? It’s not natural I shouldn’t have these regrets they deserved what happened to them! Maybe I just need sleep… maybe it will all go away in time… these images though are eating away at me.
It’s January 30th approximately nine twenty-five, I had a decent sleep, and the images only flooded my dreams once, it turns out that my sleep deprivation was causing these dreaded hallucinations; I am fine once more and due to by health I will have to go out and make these two days’ worth it. Those dammed images came back… I don’t know what’s happening my mind is racing and I’m struggling ever so greatly to cope with it… I don’t know how much longer I can hang on… my regrets and guilt are building up… I believe if I don’t get help that I’m going to fall and collapse… please my people I need the help… please… your superior is begging for your assistance.
January 31st…... January is ending, and I believe I have as well… I can’t hang on any longer. I finally have been consumed by regret… the horrible…dreadful things that I have done. I don’t deserve to belong to this world; ungrateful scum is what I am. Imagine this a person like me thought so high of himself now at his breaking point, this in the end tells you that even ruthless people such as myself have breaking points. Why did it have to come now…? I enjoyed myself the most at this time of the year… whatever be the case, I can’t take it anymore. I haven’t slept for hours upon hours and when I try, I see the horrid faces of victims of my acts. In the end I was right I am going to fall and collapse for people to watch… Goodbye my friends and now out the window I go into the soft ground cover in sheets of snow.
A Detective’s Afterthoughts
After about three to four days the cops found out who the man the leaped from the window was… it was a nineteen-year-old named Boyd Richards, he had a troublesome past and seemed to suffer from delusions. His parents have been dead since he was three, I believe this could have something to do with what he did but, in the end, he was just another killer. Goodbye now Detective Armistead takes his leave- stay safe out there, this case may be closed but I believe it’s far from being over even with Boyd dead.
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angry-geese · 3 years
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For Myself
Sukuna x Reader
Warnings: nsfw mention. mention of violence, blood, injury, and cannibalism. implied murder. starts off kind of dark but gets fluffier towards the end. gn!reader.
obligatory warning for my poor editing skills. if theres any egregious errors i'll get to them when i get home from work
Summary: some fluff where Sukuna comforts the reader while they're sick
Word Count: 2.4k
He's certain you would be more comfortable in his lap than on the floor. Even as he beckons you to sit, you refuse, turning your gaze away. You adjust your position to a more comfortable spot on your knees. The floor is hard and cold, but you don't have much longer to wait anyway. Sukuna has grown bored of the man standing in front of him. A peace offering, in exchange for not razing their village. A young woman, brought here against her own will. Her life to replace yours. It's nothing Sukuna wants, nor can he make use of her. She’s no sorcerer, likely no good in a fight, and too frail to be worth eating.
Worst of all, it insults you.
An insult to you, is an insult to Sukuna himself.
The man was only delaying the inevitable. Humans have a habit of doing that. They’re resilient, like cockroaches. You can squash, poison, trap, or drop a nuke on as many as you want to, but they’ll always come back.
He planned on killing him from the moment he stepped foot in the door.
And when he kills him, he makes sure to have the woman watch. She lays curled at your feet as you regard them both with cold eyes. Not a scream passes her lips. She’s either frozen with fear, or knows that moving is the worst thing she can do.
She begs for her life.
Sukuna leaves it up to you to decide.
It was an insult to you, after all. In a past life you could see yourself letting her go. There's many things in life you used to do that are no longer habits of yours. You were in her shoes years ago. Time has hardened you, made you cruel. If a past version of you could look at you now, you don't know if you’d recognize yourself. Not all change is bad. People are meant to change, and they’re going to do so.
You give her a minute to start running. After that, it's up to Sukuna with what he wants to do with her.
She takes the opportunity, thinking she has a chance to survive, and flees. The guards and servants let her. Your word is second to Sukuna’s. The only person who could overturn an order put in place by you is Sukuna himself. He usually doesn't. The resulting chaos from anything you do is good entertainment. And he has all the time in the world. Being immortal leads to a lot of boredom.
Sukuna would hunt her down before she could escape the estate.
Nobody got away from him. Not even you. Nowadays you’re much less serious about leaving but you still threaten it if he dares piss you off.
He'd never let you go. You know that. Try as you will, you're never getting free.
Not that you have anything to go back to. And you're rather comfortable here. Comfortable may be a bit of a stretch, but you're housed, fed, and protected. The basic human needs are taken care of. Sukuna cares about you in his own, twisted way. You may have first been just a plaything to keep his stomach full and his balls empty—a toy to be discarded after a day or two—but you've earned a place by his side. He wakes up next to you, he goes to sleep next to you. He's grown used to having you around. And you to him.
You're just as much his, as he is yours.
Everything about the man is selfish, and all-consuming. But when he is with you, he finds himself giving for the first time in his life.
He gets a servant to draw him a bath. He has the decency to scrub the blood off before finding you, and asking you to join him. His bloodied kimono is replaced with a clean one. It's black, the sleeves are wide enough to accommodate his four arms. Blood doesn't bother you, but he doesn't want to track it all over his house.
Something is wrong.
He doesn't remember you getting hurt, but you’re acting like you’re injured. He thinks back to this morning, how he had to drag you out of bed. How sluggish you acted.
Worry creases itself between his eyebrows.
Your mortality was something he knew of, but never gave much thought. There was no need to. The mortality of others was something he didn't care about. You weren't supposed to be kept long. You were merely a sacrifice, meant to appease Sukuna, and in turn he wouldn't raze your village. While young, and pretty, not good enough to save your people. He planned on fucking you, burning your village to the ground, then eating you. Not necessarily in that order, but that was the plan.
He's taken everything from you. Your home, your life, your family. Even as you were forced to face your fate, you never gave in, never lost your bite. You defied him and lived. You had a malicious streak in you. You were never as sweet and as innocent as the people of your village first played you up to be. Years later you still put up the same fight. It's a constant back and forth between you two.
You’d never be able to hurt him. As much as you'd scratch and bite, you'd never so much as draw blood. Harming the King of Curses was not an easy task.
His 'love' was much more material at first. As you got settled down, survived more than a week, gifts appeared. Jeweled hair pins and beautiful, expensive kimonos appeared. All made just for you. He'd never admit to being behind it. You were not complacent, but you were comfortable. You were his spoiled pet. That didn't stop you from clawing at his eyes whenever he picked you up when you didn't want to be touched. Being spoiled didn't make you nice.
None of his pets have lasted quite as long as you have. At least eight times the trees of his estate have shriveled and turned brown in winter, and the ground has hardened with frost. At least eight times they've bloomed and have had the life of spring breathed back into them, and the ground has thawed and turned muddy. You just did what you had to in order to survive. You've more than just survived. Some would say you’ve thrived. You would beg to differ. If you were the begging type.
He still views you as a pet. You’re human after all. Though sometimes it feels like you’re becoming more curse than human. Being viewed as an equal to him is impossible, but he values you. You're not something that can easily be replaced.
His hand touches your shoulder from behind. You don't flinch. You used to flinch. Then you started swinging. You're never able to hurt him. You're strong, but not that strong.
"She was far too frail to eat," you say, "I assumed you didn't want to keep her for that."
You don't eat human meat. Or try not to. Early on in your stay, before you knew better… It wasn't pork. Uraume was a wonderful cook, but not for anything you ate. Personally it's not your thing. Non-human meat is hard to come by around here, so you’ve stopped eating the stuff altogether. If you wanted it, Sukuna would make a servant get it for you, but you are content without it.
"You made the right call." He says. You always do.
He slips beside you, watching as you remove the intricate pins from your hair. You always loved your hair. Even at your darkest moment you took great care of it. It was a source of pride for you.
A wave of nausea rolls over you. Sweat beads in your hairline, rolling down your back, under the thin fabric of your—his—robe. You have little need for clothes. It doesn't get that cold here. Sukuna tears them off you anyway. Covering yourself up isn't necessary, but you do it out of modesty, and a sense of normalcy. You protest as he pulls at the fastenings of your robe, the flimsy fabric pooling at your feet. You have no plans on getting wet, you’d much rather go to bed. You’re tired, and you don't want to be bothered.
The tub is large enough to fit several of you. You guess it's fitting. The man is huge. He settles into the water behind you, pulling you to his chest. Try as you will, you’re not going to be able to struggle out of his grip. You’re too tired to put up much of a fight, though you do complain.
One of his sets of arms wraps around you, effectively trapping you in place. The other pulls a washcloth from the side of the tub, into the water with you. As much as you hate to admit it, the warm water feels nice against your sore muscles.
Sukuna is not a sentimental man. But with the way his hands trace across your skin, soft, lovingly, like he’s reading a book of braille, makes you think otherwise. He doesn't leer at the curves of your body like he normally does. His eyes scan across your body, looking for any sign of injury.
When he deems you clean enough, and your skin has turned a nice shade of pink from the hot water, he lets you go. You're the first to get out, drying yourself off. You never realized how cold the room was before.
He hauls you into his arms. You do little to protest, which worries him.
The King of Curses has no need for sleep. The bed mostly serves for asthetic purposes, though he's not opposed to fucking you across any flat surface, you seem to favor softer ones.
Much like the tub, his bed is large enough to fit several of you. You feel dwarfed by its size. The man is huge, he needs a bed to fit. You could sprawl out as wide as possible and never have any of your limbs hanging over the sides.
He follows you, silent.
He can't recall ever letting any of his pets share his bed before. Some have tried. Tried. He can't recall any of them surviving as long as you have, either. He finds himself irritated at the thought of anything bad ever happening to you.
He doesn't join you in bed.
He doesn't need sleep the same way humans do. He can, but if he were to decide not to, it would bring no harm to him. He used to never dream. It was something he did, back when he was human, but that time has long passed. But whenever he dreamed, he’d wake up next to you. Experiences like that made him realize just why humans like to sleep so much. Before he never woke up rested; he was never tired in the first place.
You shove the covers aside and crawl underneath. They smell like him. He snubs out the candle burning on the side table with his index finger and thumb. Though it's dark, there’s enough light in the room to make out his much-larger form.
You shiver, although sweat forms along your skin in a thin sheen. Sukuna knows it's not cold. He sits on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. The back of his hand presses to your forehead. You’re burning up.
You were warm before, but he thought it was because of the bath. He’s not really sure what to do. It's rare moments like these that he's forced to face your mortality. He knows you're fragile—compared to him—but he can't bear the thought of something bad happening to you.
One of his large hands moves to cup your cheek. It's just as warm as your forehead. The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone.
"Stay with me." You say. You stretch your arms out towards him, making grabbing motions with your hands.
You’re not one to beg. Even when faced with death, you look it straight in the eyes. Call it bravery, or lack of self preservation. He admired that about you. You ignored your mortality because it did not matter to you.
“What's the matter, pet?”
“I don't feel too good.” You say.
Though he doesn't say it, he can tell.
“I’ll get Uraume-”
“No,” your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him back towards your chest, “no. I’m okay.”
He settles down beside you in bed, on top of the covers. When he opens his arms, you go right into them. He makes sure to keep the blankets tucked around you. Sukuna runs warm naturally. You huddle close to him, trying to steal his warmth. Though your face feels abnormally warm, you shiver. His much larger body lays partially on top of yours, his head resting on your chest, ear pressed to your skin. He can hear your heartbeat. Steady, and alive. Something low in your chest rattles when you breathe.
He should get a servant to bring you water, or some tea. It occurs to him how little he knows about the mundane things humans do to make themselves feel better. Not that he ever needed to care. In all the years you’ve been by his side, he’s never seen anything like this happen. He can't decide, and instead calls for both. If you need medicine, he’ll get that too, but you don't seem to be at that point. Uraume knows more about humans than he does. He’s no doctor, but he’ll work. If he asks you, you’ll just say you’re fine.
He holds the cup up to you, beckoning you to drink. The glass is cold against your lips. Even as your hands wrap around it, he doesn't let it go. He sets the empty glass on the side table with a soft thunk.
His large hand smoothes over your head, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His nails feel nice against your scalp. Nothing about the man is soft, but when he’s left alone with you, moments like this are bound to happen. You allow yourself to be pet. The heat, combined with the weight of his body, threatens to lull you off to sleep. The ache in your joints keeps you from doing so.
When he kisses you, you taste like a curse.
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nashibirne · 3 years
Text
Intellectual Stimulation
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This is a follow-up to my first Mike fic (My Best Mistake), which was a huge flop 🙈 but I hope you like the second part better...if so, please leave me a comment, reblog or like 💜 You can read this without knowing part 1 though!
Pairing: Mike x y/n
Summary: Mike wants to impress his girlfriend by being a little more sophisticated
Words: ~ 1.8 k
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, dry humping, vaginal sex, creampie, creampie eating
NO BETA! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…
Credits: I don’t own anything related to Hellraiser: Hellworld! A huge thank you to @nix-akimbo for the edit of Mike with glasses. I loved using it for the moodboard, the other pics are from pinterest. I don't know who invented Professor Cavill, but credits to you too because I briefly mention him in this story. I quote parts of "The Picture Of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde.
You can find my other fics on my masterlist.
Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq
Off we go...
*********
Premise: Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now and everything could be perfect if there wasn't that one little problem called Professor Cavill. He's y/n's lecturer in English literature and she talks about that boomer with the good looks and the tweed jackets and the dad jeans way too often. Plus Mike has seen the way the old debaucher looks at y/n when they meet him on campus. So in short, Mike is annoyed with the guy who seems to be some kind of intellectual superman, especially because he can't keep up with him. Not a bit. When he met y/n for the first time he impressed her by reciting a poem but unfortunately it is the only poem he knows. He isn't sophisticated and although y/n keeps telling him she doesn't care he feels bad and decides to do something about it.
I take a look around the room one last time and yes, everything looks perfect. It's clean and tidy, I made the beds with fresh sheets, I placed some very pretty flowers on my desk and most importantly, I bought a huge box of vintage books plus a special item at a rummage sale. The books are strategically placed in the room in little piles - beside the bed, on the shelf, on the little table beside my sofa and on the floor in the corner of the room. The special item is sitting on my nose and I really hope y/n is not going to burst laughing when she sees me.
Where is she anyway? Late of course, as usual. I take one of the books and open it to read the first pages again. I want to be prepared in the best way possible. The book is old and the cover looks strange but cool. Antiquated of course but still somehow modern with the half-rotten scull and the snobby looking guy printed in black and gold on it. Very avant-garde, Professor Dickhead would say I guess, artsy-fartsy I say.
When I hear the key in the front door I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and turn around with a big smile.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm late. I missed my bus." She returns my smile, hardly looking at me because she has problems with removing her key from the lock. "You really have to change the lock, baby. One day my key will break off."
"Sure. First thing tomorrow, sweet cheeks."
She looks at me, surprised by the enthusiasm in my voice and now, on second sight, she sees it.
"Mike! Oh my god…", she says, covering her mouth with her hands, "what the fuck? You look great!"
"You like it?" I give her a smirk and step closer to greet her with a soft kiss on her pretty lips.
"I love it! But why? I mean...you don't need glasses. I'm confused." She laughs light-heartedly and I grin. "It's just clear glass. I thought you might like me looking a little more sophisticated." I wiggle my head with a grin and she smiles, cupping my face with her hands. "I love you just the way you are, but I have to admit the glasses are damn sexy on you." She gets on her toes to kiss me and I hug her tightly.
"So what are we up to tonight? You said you have special plans for us?"
"Just take a look around, I'm sure you can figure it out." I plop down on the sofa and look at her expectantly.
"Umm...well. You tidied up your mess…"
"Yep. But there's more."
"Fresh sheets...wait...the books. You don't have so many books," she giggles before taking a closer look at one of the piles. "Out of Africa?" She raises her eyebrows and I grin.
"Some are for the heart, some are for the brain." I grab the artsy book and show it to her.
"Ooh...I adore Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray is my favorite!"
"I know, you mentioned it when you were talking about Professor Know-it-all's class the other day."
She rolls her eyes and it looks fucking cute. No, wait, it looks absolutely enchanting! I should adapt my vocabulary to my new look.
"Is this about Professor Cavill? Are you still jealous?"
"I'm not a bit jealous but I thought it wouldn't hurt to broaden my horizon by reading some classics and if you want to, we could read some stuff to each other and talk about it? Like our own private book club. What do you think, babe?"
"That's a great idea. Count me in." She kisses me again before cocking her head, looking at me with a smirk. "Fuck, these glasses really suit you, baby. You look so hot..."
"Please, Miss. Show me a little respect. I want to be desired for my keen intellect, not for my extraordinary good looks", I joke with an exaggerated frown.
"Idiot!" Y/n laughs out loud and nudges me playfully, "so you're all brains today, huh? Then bring it on. Read to me like one of your french girls." She plops down beside me and I snicker at her Titanic reference. I love the movie -don't you dare tell anyone-, and she hates it because she finds it boring but she still watches it with me whenever I'm in the mood for it. Okay….she usually falls asleep with her head in my lap after 15 minutes but it's the thought that counts and in return I do some cultural stuff with her, exhibitions and such. We went to a vernissage last week and to a reading in a bookstore the other day. So, you see... it's high time for some intellectual stimulation.
"Of course. Let's see what we've got here", I splay my fingers in an affected manner and grab the frame of my glasses with my thumb and middle finger to adjust them before I clear my throat and start to read, putting an extra dark timbre into my voice.
"The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn."
I look up from the book to see that y/n obviously likes my reading voice. She seems captivated and I like the way she gazes at me so adoringly. "Go on", she says softly and I continue.
"From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs;"
I read the first few pages and I start to like both, the book and the growing erotic tension between me and y/n. She moves closer to me with every paragraph. After I turn the pages for the first time I feel her hand on my thigh, after I do it for the second time she starts to stroke me through my jeans and I sigh before I concentrate on the poetic words again. While Lord Henry and Basil Hallward talk about bane and boon of extraordinary talent, brains and beauty, I get hard under her touch. I stop reading to kiss her but she shakes her head and nods at the book. "No. Go on, Mike. Read." Her voice is thick with desire now and it turns me on even more but I give her what she wants.
"“Harry,”said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself."
I moan when y/n decides to straddle my lap. She hitches up her boho style maxi skirt before she sits down and all that's between my hard-on and her sweet pussy now is the delicate lace of her panties and the thick fabric of my jeans. The sexy crochet bralette top she wears is not really helpful. Just Oscar Wilde separates me from her spectacular breasts right now. I'm about to put the book aside but she stops me again. "Keep reading." She rubs herself over my boner and looks me in the eyes with a teasing smile. I think this is a promising start to whatever is going to follow and so I go on and on. She's dry humping me now with slow motions, rolling her hips, riding me with closed eyes. I moan again, I'm so turned on I can hardly speak anymore but I try my very best to keep my girl entertained.
"I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."
And that's it. That's the moment of escalation. We are no longer able to control ourselves and y/n takes the book from my hands and throws it away carelessly before she starts to kiss me with a passion I've never tasted on her tongue before. While we make out like love-crazed predators she opens my belt and my fly and she lifts her butt to allow me to get rid of my pants and boxers. She takes off her top and I push her panties aside, feeling how wet she already is. Wet and eager to take my cock. She sinks down onto my dick slowly and the feeling of stretching her tight pussy is as sensational as ever. I grab her ass and knead her juicy cheeks while kissing and sucking her boobs and her hard nipples. I know how much it turns her on when I bite those little rosy buds and caress her breasts, one time she even came when I took real good care of her tits while she was jerking me off.
But today she rides me and I thrust into her hot core with strong movements, rocking my pelvis rhythmically, and we kiss passionately while my hands roam all over her body. I can tell she's about to come by her breath that's going fast and by the naughty little things she whispers hoarsely into my ear. "Yes, babe...fuck me hard, fuck me rough," and "deeper, Mike, I need your dick deeper" or "I'm so close. Can you feel how close I am?" When she stops moving because she cums with a long, drawn sigh, her body trembling, her cunt clenching around my dick, I hug her tightly, pressing her down, forcing her to take even more of me and after a few fast thrusts I cum too, filling her up with my seed and I can't wait to see it drip from her pussy.
I know it sounds a bit pervy but I love to see the mess I've made and to taste our mixed juices on my tongue. She climbs down from my lap and lays down beside me with spread legs and I bend down to lick her dripping cunt clean, lapping everything up with slow, sensual licks while y/n plays with my dark curls, enjoying the sensation of my tongue between her legs.
When we are lying in my bed cuddled up at each other a few minutes later y/n kisses me tenderly. "I'll need you to read to me like this every day now." I smirk and wink at her. "With the glasses?"
"With the glasses", she giggles and her soft laughter sounds the bell for the next chapter of our intellectual stimulation.
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fbfh · 3 years
Text
I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader
wc: 2.3k
genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff
pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo
reader: gender neutral, they/them
requested: hell yeah
warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry
summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.
a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits
also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????
Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together
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This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.
Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.
Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.
This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.
“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.
You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.
You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.
“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.
“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.
“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.
She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.
It reads as follows:
Drowning in my mind
No one hears me cry
Who was I before society
Before society put me in a pink dress
And handed me blonde hair dye
And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?
The happiest people cry the most
Let the lyrics be your story
But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls
I’m
Different
-b.g. xox
You hold back a sigh.
“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.
“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”
I know, you think, you do that all the time.
“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.
“Nope.”
“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”
“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”
“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.
“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”
She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.
“When will he be here?”
You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.
“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.
“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.
You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.
“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”
You bite back a laugh.
“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.
So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.
Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.
“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.
“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.
“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”
“No way,” he starts, and you nod.
“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.
As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.
“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.
“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.
The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.
“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”
“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”
“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.
“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”
“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”
Regan writes this down.
“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”
“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.
“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.
In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.
“So, what now?”
Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.
“I tell him.”
Regan’s eyes widen.
“You’re going to tell him you know?”
“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”
She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.
“Wish me luck.”
Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.
“Uh… hey.”
She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.
“... Hi.”
At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”
“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”
What the fuck?
His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.
“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”
“Woah-”
“That you’re in love with me.”
Okay, double what the fuck.
She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.
“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”
This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.
“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”
He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.
“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”
He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.
“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”
She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.
“And for the record, I do eat.”
Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.
“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.
“Nice!”
You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.
“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.
“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.
He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.
“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.
“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”
“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”
“Oh, I do.”
He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.
“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”
You couldn’t agree more.
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rowanaelinn · 3 years
Text
Fire on Fire - Chapter Seven
chapter six / chapter eight
no one kills me after that, thank you very much <3
btw it’s midnight, i wrote that in two hours and it’s not edited so sorry in advance for that too
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Rowan gently knelt down to put Aelin in the shower, her small arms let go of his neck to fall back by his side.
"I'm going to take your shirt off, is that okay?" Rowan asked gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper. She ignored him, her eyes fixed straight ahead with tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Aelin?"
Almost imperceptibly, she nodded. Rowan took the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, she raised her arms to help him but it seemed to take all her strength. She was only in her panties, sitting on the floor with her legs bent in front of her. She put her head on her knees, her arms around her legs as if it was going to protect her, as if she wanted to make herself as small as possible so that she could disappear.
"I'll be back in a second." He told her and went to his room to grab a shirt and a pair of boxers. He didn't know where she kept her clothes and he didn't want to invade her privacy any more than he already was. She hated him so the fact that he was going to see her naked was enough, she didn't need to know that he had gone through her underwear. He also took some water and towels to rapidly clean up the mess in her room.
The two minutes alone she had while Rowan was in his room and hers did nothing to calm her tremors. He took the shower palm and knelt down in front of her, she looked at him and for the first time, Rowan smiled at her. It wasn't a big smile or a pity smile, it was small and full of understanding. I know how that feels.
She didn't say anything but he could have sworn her body relaxed slightly. He turned on the water and adjusted the heat, not too hot but still (too) warm. He had noticed that she liked her shower hot because of the steam that came out of the bathroom every time she came out of the room.
The water splashed on his pants but he didn't care as he began to run the water over her arms and shoulders. She stayed still as she let Rowan take care of her, as she let the man who had been an absolute dick to her see her in her most vulnerable state.
He turned to access her back but what he saw made his heart stop for a second. Her back. That was the moment he realized he had never seen her back, no matter what he wore, it had always been covered and now he understood why.
There were two scars on the length of her spine, one at the top and one at the bottom, the same spine that wasn’t totally straight. Softly, he traced the shape of the first one and her entire body stiffened. “Please, don’t ask. Please,” Her voice was shaking and weak. Her back had been broken, he was sure of that. The scars could only have been caused by surgery. What the hell happened to her?
“I’m going to wash your hair now,” he only said and took all her hair in hand to wet them. They were soft, so soft that he may have spent more time than necessary to get them wet. He took his shampoo, not wanting to waste time looking at which of her bottles was shampoo. Gods, she brought so much product. Rowan only had shower gel and shampoo, thinking that's what everyone else had. Then Aelin Galathynius arrived, bringing shampoos, conditioners, hair care products, castor oil, and a bunch of other stuff he didn't even know the name of.
He ran some lotion through his hands and as gently as possible, he began to massage her head. She leaned her head to his touch and her breathing calmed down. Good.
He frowned as his fingers brushed against a piece of skin that did not feel the same as the others when touched. So that she wouldn't recognize his digging, Rowan looked at her scalp. A large scar was present on the right side of her head, hidden by her hair.
His breath caught, imagining all that could have happened to this woman. Quickly, his eyes searched for scars elsewhere on her body and he found a few on her arms, he couldn't see her legs from her position. The marks were not as large as those on her scalp or back but they were still there.
What the hell.
But she had asked him, begged him, not to say anything about her back so he would apply the same principle to the other scars.
He continued to massage her scalp, longer than necessary but she looked so rested that he didn't care. If it made her feel better, he would wash her hair all night.
After a few minutes, he pulled her hair back a little and gently rinsed her hair full of product. From this angle, he could see her cheeks and he noticed that there were no more tears on them, which was a good sign.
Quickly but still gently, he applied soap to her back and arms, not wanting to touch her where he would have to move her position. She had found a position where she felt safe and he would not take that away from her.
He turned off the water, rising above her and when he looked down, her eyes were already open. He'd looked at them too many times, blamed himself many times for that, but they fascinated him. Today, Rowan noticed that the blue of her eyes looked deeper and seemed to take up more space than usual. The gold was almost impossible to see. He was used to seeing the opposite, the gold grew whenever she was upset, making her eyes look like they were on fire.
He didn't smile, and neither did she. He knew that at the slightest sign of pity he would show, she would break again.
This type of breakdown she had today was not casual and he knew it, she didn't panic about her condition once and that proved Rowan right. She was used to it.
He wondered what her dreams had shown her tonight, what her mind had chosen to torture her with. It was at that moment that he regretted everything, regretted being the worst possible person around her. Not because he thought he had something to do with her condition, that kind of pain was deeper than mean words, but because maybe, if he had been a better person, she would have confided in him.
He had been so focused on pushing her away from his life that he had been blind to the possibility that he could just let her in. He shook his head, he was pushing people away for a reason. If he had any lesser friends, he would be alone now. Fenrys, Lorcan, Vaughan, Connall and now Aedion would never let him leave them, no matter how many times he had tried.
Rowan wondered if Aelin ever had anyone who fought for her the way his friends did. Sure, Dorian, Aedion, and Lysandra were here but did they notice every single thing Rowan noticed about her? Or were they wronged by her smile and the arrogance she used to hide her pain?
“Let’s get up, okay?” He said as he held his hands toward her. She looked at them and seemed to wonder what to do, he let her think, keeping the neutral expression on his face. After a few seconds of thinking, she let go of her legs and put both hands in his.
A surge of electricity passed through his body at that moment and Rowan was sure she felt it too. He used a little strength to make her stand up, her legs still a little weak. He took one of the towels and automatically Aelin raised her arms slightly, letting Rowan wrap it around her. He took another towel and had Aelin turn on herself, slowly, he began to rub her hair to dry it.
He took the opportunity to rub the towel lightly on the back of her neck and shoulders, helping her dry herself. She did nothing, just waited for time to pass, but Rowan saw that her gaze was no longer fixed on the horizon, lost in thought.
No, she was aware of what was going on around her, aware that he was there, and it didn't seem to make her uncomfortable. He left her the time, taking his hairbrush and start to untangle the small nodes that formed in the shower. It should have been more delicate.
He cringed when one of the knots didn't unravel directly, pulling Aelin's head back but she said nothing, letting him do it.
"I brought you something to wear," he said after he was done, she looked at him with a confused look before shaking her head slightly and nodding. Before he could do anything she dropped the towel that wrapped her body to the ground and removed her last piece of underwear. Rowan quickly turned around, giving her some privacy. It's not like there was anything sexual about seeing her this way, there was nothing attractive, he just wanted her to be comfortable.
“You don’t believe me,” her voice was flat, without any emotions in it. He turned his head with a frown to see her with his shirt on. It was huge for her, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the sigh. “For the scholarship.” She specified.
Well, that was random. He didn’t think about the conversation they had in the kitchen last morning at all. But if she was ready to talk, even if it was something as random as that, then he would talk. He shook his head, “I don’t, you’re right.”
“They don’t give scholarships to people like me.” No, they didn’t. “I told everyone I had one, and they believed me.”
“But it’s not true.” He said and she shook her head, confirming what he said. “How do you go to college, then?”
“My professor, Arobynn Hamel, pays for me.” Her voice was smaller than it had ever been. There was something about the way she said his name that bothered Rowan. He knew Arobynn Hamel, everyone did, he had read some of his books, he had even produced a quite good movie a few years ago. He also heard more than once Lysandra and Aelin talk about Professor Hamel.
“Why do you lie?” He asked her without judgment in his voice, only pure curiosity. It was weird for a professor to pay for a student that wasn’t one of his children, but Rowan remembered Aedion talking about Arobynn Hamel and Aelin knowing each other long before college, maybe he was a family friend? “Why lie when someone clearly cares about you enough to pay for your education? Your uncle and cousin are worried sick you’re going to lose that scholarship, you could make them feel better.”
She took a deep breath as if it was hard to speak. He was sure nobody knew what she had just told him, he could be okay with only one secret if she wanted to stop talking now. “Because the furthest they are from Arobynn, the safest they are.”
“What does that mean?” He asked but from the look on her face… She was done talking. She wouldn’t say anything more and it annoyed him, but he could respect that. “Let’s get you to bed,” he said and she nodded.
“Can you stay with me a little?” He knew how god damn hard it was to ask for help, but this little human being in front of him just did, she was strong enough to ask for something he never had the courage to ask in a decade. So he nodded, following her as she slipped in her bed, sitting at the end of it.
She had been honest with him tonight, more honest than she had been with anyone, it was only fair he was honest with her, too. “I had a nightmare,” he started. It was easier to speak without any lights on, even if he could feel her gaze burn his skin. “That’s how I heard you, I was already awake.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, he even wondered if she wasn’t asleep. “What was your nightmare about?”
“You’ve got your secrets, I have mine, princess.” She laughed softly at that and he wanted to get on his knees to thank all the gods for that. It wasn’t a big, strong laugh, but it was one. One he would cherish.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“No,” he said, honestly for the first time in his life. “You?”
“No,” her voice was quiet. “It’s weird. To answer that question truthfully. People don’t usually expect another answer than “yes” when they ask you how you are.”
“You’re right, they don’t.”
“I’m scared, Rowan. And my little trick to contain the fear isn’t working lately.”
“What trick?” He frowned even if she couldn’t see it. He felt her feet close to his leg under the comforter. He stood up, took her feet and the cover, and lifted them. He sat down again and this time Aelin's legs were on him.
“My name is Aelin Galathynius and I will not be afraid,” she whispered. He turned his head toward her, a brow raised and a small smile on his lip.
“So, you say that and it works?”
“I had the same conversation with someone a few years ago,” she laughed, moving to get comfortable and maybe to lean into his touch. “But yeah, it does. Or when it doesn’t I just laugh at myself.”
He just smiled at the dark, “Sleep, Aelin.”
“Can you stay tonight?” She asked. “I don’t want to be alone.”
As he squeezed her ankle he said “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
------------------
It was still dark when Aelin woke up. The events of the night before came back to her mind with flashes, making her stand up suddenly. Rowan was lying in bed, the dim light of early dawn allowing Aelin to see his sleeping head tilted to the side.
What has she done?
What the hell has she done?
As quietly as possible she got up and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and her phone from the coffee table. She tiptoed out of the room, giving one last look to the man who had taken care of her yesterday after being a total bastard for almost two years. She didn't know what he wanted from her but she had already given and suffered too much. It wouldn't happen again.
She put on her shoes and went outside, starting to run. She listed in her head all the things she had confided in Rowan last night.
Arobynn, the scholarship, Sam's sentence...
You don't have to be alone anymore. What did it mean? She had been alone for years, no matter that she was in a room full of people, she was always alone.
Everything he said to her before last night, all the scornful looks he gave her... Everything she said...
Yesterday he told her he knew how it felt, did she hate him because he was a mirror of herself? Of the part of her that she hated the most?
She didn't care, continuing to run even though she was out of breath until she found herself in front of a familiar front door which she knocked on loudly for several seconds.
She had to run because she didn't know what was waiting for her in her room, didn't know what was going to happen. Yesterday changed things and Aelin hated change and she hated not knowing something.
The door opened and Aelin could see that he was surprised, she smiled at him but it did nothing to ease his confusion. "Aelin? What the hell are you doing here? Did you run? It's seven miles!"
"Can I crash here for a few days?" She asked out of breath. She didn’t know what she would do if he said no but she didn’t have to wonder about that for long.
He didn't hesitate before letting her into his little house. "It's your home too."
“Thank you, uncle Gav.” He smiled at her and kissed the crown of her head before she walked up the stairs to Aedion’s room. The moment her head hit the pillow she was out.
————
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ediths · 3 years
Text
The Best Kind Of Night
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: After a long day filled with meetings and overbearing reminders of deadlines, Harry’s in need of a little time with his girl.
Warning(s): Stressed out H, a spa night, mentions of nudity (nothing explicit or sexual), and innuendo to some sexy time (but nothing to dramatic), fluff, not edited (i JUST had people beta read a piece for me and I don’t wanna bother them lmao)
A/N: anon requested: painting harry’s nails after he had a long day, followed by a bath together and cuddling. I’m currently working on a longer piece but I got this request and just had to write it (partially because of how cute it is and partially because i want to procrastinate for longer)!!!!! I have like, 15 other requests that are still in the works, so if you see me write someone else’s request and not yours, don’t worry, I’m getting to it!! also!!!! the gif has like, nothing to do with the piece i just really like it!!
Masterlist | Taglist | Request - Guidelines | Come Talk To Me!!
Reblogs help a lot and are greatly appreciated!!
*
When he was sixteen, he never thought that being a singer could be this hard. In his head it was simple: write songs, record the songs, go on tour. And when he was in a band, it still kind of seemed like that, especially because he had other boys to help him do everything. 
But now he realizes that it’s a lot harder than he thought at sixteen, and sometimes he feels like it’s near impossible to do it on his own. 
Every single day it’s “Harry, I need you to approve this” or “Harry, you need to redo this” or “Harry, there’s something that requires your immediate attention.” Sometimes it almost feels like it’s too much. There’s only so much he can handle before his brain feels on the verge of bursting at the seams with all the things that he has to do. 
On days like today, where it was meeting after meeting, he’s drained. At the end of the day all he wants to do is go home and spend time with the love of his life. He wants to ask about her day and have her ramble on for as long as she wants about all the little things that made her day enjoyable.
That’s what he’s looking forward to when Jeff stops him and tells him that there’s yet another emergency meeting that Harry has to attend. He barely stops himself from audibly groaning about the prospect of having to sit through another meeting when he could be at home with his girl. The last thing that he wants right now is to go sit at a table with a bunch of people he sees once a week and do absolutely nothing but sign a paper or two. But he’s not really in the mood to push it off and then have Jeff mad at him, so he follows him to the conference room and takes his seat.
*
She can tell that he’s had a long day the moment that he walks through the door without his usual pep. Normally, there’s a smile on his face, albeit a tired one, and a twinkle in his eyes. Tonight, though, none of that’s there. It’s just a blank face, almost like he’s not entirely present.
“Hey, honey. Welcome home.” She greets as she pads over to where he’s kicking off his shoes.
“Hey, baby.” He mumbles. He sounds exhausted and she knows that he’s going to need some loving tonight so that he doesn’t go to bed upset about today.
“Wanna tell me about work?” She tries to gauge what exactly caused him to be like this. She knows that it has to be something to do with the business part of his musical career, but she needs to know exactly what’s gotten him to this point so that she’ll know what to do to fix it.
“Just meetings and Jeff badgering me about getting things done.” Before he can even finish the entire sentence, she has her arms wrapped around him.
She knows exactly what he needs to get his mind off of the stress and aggravation that’s weighing him down. Fortunately, it had been a while since he had paid enough attention to the details of his appearance to give himself a spa day, so she has enough room to give him the entire experience.
“Want me to paint your nails, H?” She suggests, knowing that he most likely does but just won’t openly ask for it.
‘You don’t have to do that, love.” He tries to assure her that it’s not something that’s required of her, but she can tell by the way that he slightly straightened up that the thought of having her redo his nails excited him.
“Nonsense, I want to do it.” She nudges him slightly to emphasize her point.
“Fine, if you insist.” He gives her a small grin, which she fully lights up at. She’s already getting him to destress and that makes her happier than just about anything. 
She drags him to their bedroom and instructs him to sit on the bed. Once he complies, she walks over to the bottom drawer of her nightstand and pulls out the bag that she keeps full of nail products just for him.
Pulling out the nail polish remover and the cotton balls, she sits down beside him and adjusts everything to where she’ll be the most comfortable using it. She dampens the cotton balls with the remover and gets to work on stripping his nails of the polish. After a few minutes of rubbing away at his nails, she disposes of the used cotton balls and picks up the cuticle pusher.
“Please be gentle.” He all but whines when he sees the tool in her hand.
“I’d never hurt you, baby.” She coos, putting the pusher down to grab ahold of his hands.
“I know, it just scares me a little bit still.” She softens even more than she ever thought possible at his words. He’d always been a little weary about the nail tool, but she always made sure to let him know that he’d be fine. She knows that it can look a little intimidating, especially when she’s pushing his cuticles back.
“I’ll be careful, honey. I promise.” He lightly shuts his eyes and nods, signaling for her to continue what she was doing. She picks the pusher back up and takes her time pushing each cuticle back, making sure not to push too hard or go too fast. 
After she’s done, he reopens his eyes and smiles at her. “Thank you, love.”
She leans up slightly and presses a quick peck to his lips. “It’s my pleasure, baby.” He blushes slightly at the pet name and it makes her heart swell in her chest. “Now, what color are we thinking?”
“Um, what color are you gonna do yours next?” He asks, looking up at her through his lashes.
“Probably pastel yellow. I’ve been wanting to do yellow for a while but I don’t think the neon would look good on me.” She slightly scrunches her nose at the thought of neon yellow nails and he chuckles lightly at how cute she looks. 
“Then I think I’ll do pastel yellow too, if you don’t mind us matching.” The blush returns to his cheeks and she quickly agrees with the idea of matching him. 
As she pulls out the perfect shade, he fidgets with the hem of his pants. Normally, this is something that would go unnoticed, but tonight everything is making her wonder how he’s doing.
“You alright, H?” He snaps his head up to meet her eyes and his hands stop all movement.
“Yeah, why?” He looks like a deer caught in headlights and she’s confused as to why he looks so nervous.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He quickly nods his head and looks away. She decides to let the subject drop, but not even a minute later, he sighs and looks back over at her.
“Can we take a bath after my nails dry?” He rushes his words, like they burn his tongue. 
“Of course, honey.” The smile that breaks out onto his face makes his dimples pop and she feels like her heart skips a few beats. 
They fall silent while she finishes painting his nails and applying the top coat. 
She’s just thinking about getting up to go run the water when he all but whispers her name. “Can you tell me about your day?” 
“Yeah, what do you wanna know?” She maneuvers herself until she’s sat beside him instead of in front of him. He cranes his neck to the side to look at her and she motions for them to lay back on the pillows at the top of the bed.
“Dunno really. Just wanna know how your day went. Like…” He pauses for a moment so he can focus on getting comfortable without messing up his still damp nails. “Like, what you had for breakfast, how the drive to work was, what you had for lunch, if anyone was rude to you, that kinda stuff.”
Once they’re both settled into the pillows, she looks over at him. “I had pancakes for breakfast, they were really good. I put chocolate chips on them.” She reaches out to push a stray curl out of his face. “Um, the drive was alright. I listened to your songs on the way so it made it go by a little faster.” She pauses, immediately regretting telling him that. Yeah, she’s supportive but sometimes she finds it weird to listen to his songs in the car. It’s a feeling that she can’t quite put a finger on, but she’s scared that he’ll find it even weirder than she does.
“Which ones?” He urges her to continue, not even batting an eye at the fact that she listens to his songs even when he’s not around. But really, now that she actually takes a moment to think about it, why would he? He listens to his own songs, so why wouldn’t she?
“Um, ‘Sweet Creature’ was first, and then I put on ‘Fine Line’ and finished with ‘Golden’.” She reaches down to grab one of his hands. She lightly taps at the nail to see if it’s dry and finds that they’re completely set.
“Can we go take our bath now? You can keep telling me about your day there.” He basically whines out the words and she can’t help but chuckle.
“Of course, sweetheart. Come on.” She pushes herself up and out of bed and reaches for his hands. He gladly grabs onto her and lets her lead him to the bathroom.
“Thank you for this.” He stops right inside the bathroom door and spins her around and into his arms. 
“You don’t need to thank me.” She mutters into his chest and he squeezes her tighter. 
“Yes I do. You don’t have to do things like this for me.” She pulls back slightly so she can look at him.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I do it because I love you, H.” She runs a hand up his chest to the side of his neck. “And when you come home like you did today, I just wanna see you happy.”
“I love you too, baby.” He whispers before leaning down slightly to attach their lips. After a moment, she pulls back and moves away from him. He begins to pout before he realizes that she’s moving to start the bath.
He follows behind her and watches as she adjusts the water to the temperature that was just right for them to be able to sit in the bath together for as long as they wanted. She inserts the stopper into the drain and turns back around so she’s facing him.
“Can I undress you?” Normally when he asks that question, it doesn’t sound like he’s a little kid hoping to be allowed to get a new toy.
She nods her head and he closes the small distance between them. His hands immediately drop to the hem of her shirt. Before pulling it up and over her head, he looks at her again for confirmation. Her nod is all he needs to slip off the shirt and throw it into the counter. She hadn’t been wearing a bra, so he moves down to her sweatpants. Normally he would have taken a moment to admire her body, but that’s not what this moment is about.
After he slides her sweats and her panties down her legs, she kicks them off and moves to undress him. She takes her time unclasping all of the buttons on his shirt and carefully slides it down his arms. The shirt gets draped over the towel rack, as will his pants once they’re off. She may be ready to get into the bath with him, but there’s no way that she’s going to throw Gucci clothes on the floor without a second thought. 
Before she goes to unclasp his pants, she reaches over and turns off the water that was filling the bath. When she turns back around, she sees that he’s already finished undressing himself. 
“You’re so impatient.” She complains, although she’s not actually upset by it in the slightest.
“Just wanna be close to you.” He gives her his best puppy eyes and she immediately pushes him closer to the bathtub.
“Get in.” He does as he’s told, sliding through the bubbles and into the water. He makes grabby hands at her and she moves to get in with him. She steps into the tub and situates herself between his legs. Her back is to his chest and his arms instinctively wrap around her torso. The moment that her body relaxes into his she can feel him sigh in content.
She leans her head back against his shoulder and cranes her neck to try and look at him. “Feel better baby?”
“Much better. This is exactly what I needed.” He leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips before pulling away and completely relaxing.
She takes a moment to admire how peaceful he looks. His appearance had done a full one eighty from the time that he had walked in the door until now, and she was glad to be the reason that he felt so much better.
She turns back around and gets comfortable before relaxing into his body. 
As much as she hated seeing him stressed out and worked up, she loved having nights like these with him, and she’d never turn down the opportunity to pamper him.
*
Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it!! Again, don’t be afraid to reblog and leave feedback!
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beelsnack · 3 years
Text
Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC
In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague  some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.
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Lucifer: “You should be resting.”
The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.
“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.
“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”
“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.
It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”
“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.
“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.
It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.
Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”
Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!
…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!
“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”
“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”
Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.
“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.
“...Just one more thing.”
“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”
Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.
“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.
“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”
Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”
The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.
As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!
That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.
“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”
“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”
They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”
“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “
Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.
…Oh. They looked really cute like that.
“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”
He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.
“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”
They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.
“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”
Satan: His leg was falling asleep.
He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?
They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.
“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.
It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.
Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.
Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”
“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”
They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.
“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”
When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”
With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.
While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”
Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”
With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”
“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”
“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.
“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.
“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.
“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”
Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.
Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.
The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.
Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.
“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”
They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.
“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”
Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”
“Have some more.”
“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”
They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”
“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”
Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.
“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”
“I’m not a baby…”
“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”
He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.
“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”
“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”
Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”
The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.
“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”
“That sounds counter-intuitive.”
“Tell me about it.”
Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”
They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”
“Come here, I’ll show you.”
He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”
“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”
“No, seriously, just listen.”
He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.
He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.
“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “
“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”
Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.
“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”
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midoriyas-wifey · 3 years
Text
Round One, Fight!
Pairing: Midoriya x fem!reader
Rating: E
Words: 2.3k
Kinks: uhhh dom izuku and edging
Summary: Izuku edges reader a fuck ton i don’t really know what else to say except he’s a smug little bastard in this one. i blueballed myself writing and editing this 🥶
His warm, calloused hands ran down her sides, giving a slight tickle, while his face was deeply buried in the crook of her neck. She gave a silly giggle at the sensation.
"Something funny?" He purred, giving a firm nip to her neck, reveling in her gasp.
"No," she rasped, "I'm jus’ ticklish." He fully withdrew his head from her neck, mischief flashing in his green eyes. "Really?" He questioned, up to no good. Midoriya usually wasn’t the scheming type, but for his honey? He loved to do nothing more than tease and torment.
She eyed him with suspicion, familiar with his secret evil ways. His hands once again teasingly rubbed her tummy, earning a delicious squeak along with a squirm.
"Don't do that!" She squealed, her hands lightly on his broad, strong chest. "Have you forgotten that I'm the one in charge tonight?" He inquired with a quirk of his lips. Not giving her the chance to respond, he fully covered her swollen lips with his own, nipping and demanding entrance. He kissed the breath out of her, leaving her dizzy with pleasure. His silky tongue explored her mouth with purpose, before he drew out and surrounded her tongue with his lips; giving a sloppy suck. Both the lewd noise and sensation caused a zing of heat down low into her belly and cunt. Only she knew of his passionate affections, and he hers.
Never before had any kiss felt so good. His hands gripped onto her beautiful hair, urging her closer to him. He pulled back, soothing her raw, kiss swollen lips with gentle pecks. He gave a pleased hum at the glazed, hungry look in her eyes. She licked her lips, desire for more burning low in her belly. Whilst she was occupied by her thoughts, his hands snaked up the back of her shirt, one goal in mind: removing that that stupid bra. Her tits were set free after messing with the clasps for a moment. Her shirt was still in the way.‘How annoying’, Midoriya grunted; his famous patience near nonexistent. He furrowed his brows lightly before intentionally setting his face into a smug look.
Taking a step back from the breathless girl, he sat down and reclined onto his strong forearms on the bed. His jade eyes were rife with predatory intent. "Strip for me," he commanded. Just his voice was enough to give her jitters as she slightly squirmed in her spot. Heat rose across her face at the brazen order.
"Now." He growled out, impatient. Startled out of thought once more, she glanced up at him, looked down, and slowly took the hem of her shirt into her hand.
"Faster." He barked, taking pride in his unusually dominant demeanor. She quickly shed her shirt, the article of clothing flying overhead. Her nipples hardened at the sudden temperature change.
"All of it comes off." He purred, distracted by her beautiful tits. She once again felt heat in her face from his blatant stare. She shimmied out of her pants, leaving her in an admittedly comfy pair of panties..
"Good girl, just like I asked," he crooned. "But you're not finished yet."
“Come here,” he ordered. She nervously shuffled over to him, every bit the part she was playing. His hands gripped her hips, dragging her closer. Thumbs circling gently over her plush hips, he tucked his fingers into her panties, pulling them down over her legs. She stepped out of the garment that pooled at her feet. If she thought she couldn't have more heat in her face, she was wrong. She was sure that she looked like she was in a sauna as her lover's face drew near her thatch of curls. His hands shifted to the round, soft globes of her ass. Giving them a firm squeeze, he buried his face into her tummy, breathing in the heady scent of her arousal.
"I've barely touched you, and you're already so wet for me." His eyes shone with satisfaction and amusement. "So sensitive," he breathed. His hot tongue made an appearance on her belly, almost causing her knees to give out, and they would've, if not for his strong grip. At a snail like pace, he trailed his tongue down, further and further. His hot breath flushed over her pussy, shooting tingles up and down her body. He grabbed one of her plush thighs. pulling it up and propping it on the bed beside him to allow full access to his cute little cunny.
"Please," she begged.
He pulled his head away to look at her, feeling smug at her disappointed groan. Her hands tangled into his curly green hair, trying to push him back.
He knew very well what she wanted, but he was going to take his time.
"What?" He purred, kissing her belly. She groaned again. "Please" she gasped again, "I need..."
"What do you need?" He adored the frustrated look on her cute face.
"You..." She croaked.
“....To do...what?” Now he was just being an ass.
“Eat my pussy! Jesus fucking Christ, Izuku!”
"Was that really so hard?" He teased. She gave him a sharp look, which he replied to with a nip on her belly, and a light smack on her backside. She lurched forward in shock, giving him full access to his sweet prize. He finally used his thumbs to part her hot, slick folds. Her moan at the exposure to the cool air only served to boost his ego as he found her little nub. He nuzzled his face into her curls as his tongue slithered out for a taste of her cunt. "So sweet" he murmured, wanting more. His tongue delved further into her, aching for that delicious taste that only she had.
He had grown tired of his shallow position, so he quickly bound her hands behind her back with his long-discarded tie and flipped her over onto the bed. He now was hovering over her helpless form, ready for more. He easily spread her quivering thighs. His lips buried themselves into her, giving a firm, wet kiss. Her hips arched up, searching for more.
"None of that now," he mumbled against her lower lips. He firmly pushed her back onto the bed, leaving her squirming as his tongue came out to play. Plunging his tongue in as far as it could go, he hummed a meaningless tune as he traced a random pattern with his thumb, now placed on her clit. The woman let out a squeal at the new stimulation, writhing helplessly underneath him.
He was definitely getting a high from all the control. He gave a peek up to see her chest rising and falling rapidly, providing an enticing show.
'Only I’m allowed to see this side of her, no one else. Only me,' he thought with a possessive squeeze of his hands. She was close, he could tell, but he would feel her cream wrapped around his dick first.
He pulled back abruptly, leaving her with an aching pit at her core.
"Wha...?" She gasped.
"You can't leave me hanging like this!" She rasped.
He gave her one last teasing lick inside her folds and gave a sudden, firm suck right on her clit before pulling away with an all too-pleased smirk.
Completely withdrawing from the bed, he took a second to admire his handy work. He had left her a total mess, squirming and panting pathetically. Her eyes burned with fire, pleading for more.
He quickly stripped out of his remaining clothes, wanting nothing more than to stuff her cute little cunny.
Kneeling over her, he elevated her hips, teasingly brushing his dick over her clit, just enough to cause sparks, but not enough to satisfy.
"Tell me what you want." He purred. His self control was almost at its limit, but she was breaking.
"Just fuck me already!" She shrieked, tired of the games. She couldn't bear to see his smug smirk of triumph, so she threw her head back in to the pillow, waiting impatiently.
Her total submission was pleasing beyond words, so he decided to oblige her request. He gave a shallow stroke in, popping the fat head of his dick into her, before pulling out again. Her angry moan only served to amuse him as he gave a soft chuckle. He continued this slow, light pattern for a almost a minute, enjoying all too much tormenting her.
She felt like her insides were on fire, and a scream of frustration was crawling up her throat. Her hips squirmed uselessly against his, begging for more.
He increased his pace, giving a hard, deep slam that knocked the breath out of her. She let out a choked scream, needing more. His hips continually dipped at different paces and angles, driving her into a frenzy. He analyzed every expression and noise that escaped her beautiful lips, storing that information for later.
Her arms were falling asleep, but she didn't give a fuck, all she wanted was for him to let loose.
His libido was having a hard time being contained, but her expressions and little noises were worth the strain. Rarely has he seen her so unraveled, and he wasn't going to let this go to waste.
The loud, wet slaps of his hips against her were making her go crazy! Why wouldn't he go faster?! The sounds of his heavy balls smacking into her ass would have been embarrassing if not for her desperation. She chanced a look up into his eyes. He was enjoying her anger, that-
"Oh god, please, I need more!" Fuck it, this was torture!
"More?" He hummed, pausing inside her as if to consider granting her wish.
"No!" She shrieked at the loss of stimulation, not believing that he was stopping again.
"No?" He questioned, smirk widening and stretching his normally cute freckled face into something devious.
He pulled out with a quiet groan, his dick twitching at the loss of her silky cunt. His breathing still seemed impossibly controlled.
"You're the devil!" She groaned loudly. He pressed a huge finger to her lips, shushing her.
"You don't want the neighbors to hear, do you?" He crooned. He positioned the head to brush against her clit once more, thrusting and brushing feather-light against it over and over and over and-
She hated him, and she let him know it.
"I hate you," she whispered, giving him the evil eye. He leaned down and gave her a nip on her neck, suckling a hickey there.
"I'm sure you do." Amusement was evident in his voice as he murmured in her ear.
She swore she could hear the smug grin. She saw red, and started struggling against her bindings, to no avail.
"Give up, honey, you can’t win against me", he whispered.
"Never!" She growled
"Hmm, you'll be singing a different tune for me later." He promised, full of arrogance.
He easily flipped her over, pressing the side of her face into to mattress. Pulling her hips up so she was on her knees, he wasted no time plunging his dick in to her, fully sheathed. Her shrieks were slightly muffled by the pillow beneath her. Her shoulders and arms ached and tingled from her restraints.
"Shh... You're awfully loud." He scolded.
She was panting, it was useless to try to reason with him any more.
He roughly ground his hips into her plush ass, not thrusting. His hands were going to leave bruises on her hips, his inner (now outer) beast was purring in delight at this notion. He wanted to mark her, show the world that she was his.
Slowly pulling out, he gave a quick, upwardly angled thrust back in. A strangled gasp was heard from his honey. He quickly set to plowing her, constantly shifting his angle. There was nothing slow or shallow about him now, he was in it to finish her.
She let loose her first true scream of the night, throwing it back on him, trying to keep up with his furious pace.
He was an absolute beast, his nails digging into her hips, and leaving her round bottom hot and stinging from his quick smacks and the slapping of his hips. One of his strong hands ventured down between her thighs, rolling her sensitive little pearl in his fingers.
She loved every second of it. It was no question that she would be beyond sore after this though, he wasn’t number one without reason.
He was snarling and growling, holding nothing back, she would take all he could give, and if she couldn't, well...
He leaned forward, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back.
"Who do you belong to?" He whispered darkly. At her lack of response, he gave a sharp tug and swat to her ass, pulling a gasping whine from her.
"You..." She rasped.
He pulled on her hair again and gave another heavy stinging smack to her ass that’d surely bruise.
"Who!?" He shouted, he needed to hear her say it.
"You!" She screamed, almost crying from the mix of pain and pleasure.
"Say my name!" He roared, thrusting even harder.
"It’s you, Izuku! You! You!" She squealed, giving in to him, arching her back and letting the blinding orgasm take hold. She furiously wriggled and writhed under him, genuinely feeling like she might die from all the pleasure.
At the feeling of her pulsing, tightening walls and her desperate screaming, he could take no more. With a loud roar, he came inside her tight cunt, releasing ropes of thick seed into her waiting walls. She twitched again at the hot liquid stinging her insides.
Never before had he lost control so thoroughly, and he was wiped out, her even more so.
He finally released her bindings before collapsing on top of her, his body engulfing and squishing her own. Her arms flopped, tingling wildly from the blood rushing back.
"’Zuku, you're heavy." She grunted, weakly squirming to get free.
He chuckled and rolled off, his strong arms pulling her back in to his chest. He dwarfed her, and wrapped her in his arms.
She almost was asleep when she felt something prodding her. Groaning in disbelief at his stamina, she felt his face draw close as he stroked and squeezed her rear.
"Ready for another round?”
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kaitwrites · 3 years
Text
Part 22; Apologies
Word Count: ~3k
Masterlist 
A/N: Okay, it’s finally here. First of all I’d like to say I’m very nervous lol. But also, a HUGE thank you to @garbagepale-kid​ for editing and proof-reading for me. Best Wife Cassie <3. Secondly, she has given me so much confidence in my writing and I love her so much for that. Once again, Cassie Best wife. Also you can follow her (18+) writing blog here. In other news I just finished my last 55 hour week at work, and I only have four more days of work before a week of vacation! Anyway, the next part will be written as well, and I hope you guys enjoy <3
You stared at your phone, watching anxiously as the minutes ticked by. After making it back to the hotel you made a beeline for the little gazebo off to the side of the property. With the late hour and it also being a weekday, you were left waiting alone in the dark, unbothered as you sat on the weathered bench. The only light  came from the dim bulb that seemed to hang only by a thread from the tented ceiling. Bakugo had said he wanted to take a shower before meeting with you, but the longer you waited, the more you feared you’d been stood up. 
Finally, you spotted a familiar spiky-haired shadow coming from around the corner and your heartbeat spiked in your chest. 
You let out a shaky breath as he approached, relieved that he had finally shown up. “Hi.” 
He offered you a rare smile, one it seemed only you got to see. “Hey.” He had stopped at the steps, not making a move to come any closer - almost unsure what to do with himself. “So…” 
“So?” You questioned, your voice coming out far more confident than you thought it would. 
Bakugo huffed and made his way up the few steps, sliding onto the bench beside you. The old wood creaked under your combined weight. He sat facing forward, choosing to stare out into the darkness. “So, you and Sero?” There was a bite to his tone. 
Your eyes narrowed. “What about me and Sero?” You quipped back, your tone just as harsh. 
You observed him carefully as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, bracing yourself for an onslaught of the usual insults you heard thrown at your friends. “What are you two?” 
You were taken aback by how soft his voice was when he asked, and it took you a moment to compose yourself once more before answering him. “What does it matter to you what goes on between me and Sero?” 
“Because, damn it!” He let out a hefty sigh, knotting his hands into his hair.  “I thought we had something.” He hissed out through clenched teeth. 
You turned away in disbelief, unsure of how to react. He planned this whole thing, the song, the apology, in front of hundreds, if not thousands, of people, but he wanted to get upset with you? Act like you had been the one in the wrong this entire time? Sure what you and Hanta had was artificial, but did he really expect you to wait around while he tried to figure out how to communicate with you? It wasn’t like you two had been anything official, so what was the big deal if you had started seeing someone? The questions mounted and mixed poorly with a nearly-venomous sense of indignation, erasing any of the calm you’d been maintaining.
You threw your hands up in exasperation, ignoring the way he flinched away from the unexpected sudden movement. “You know what? I thought we did too. But then you kicked me out of your hotel room, wouldn’t tell me why! You ignored me for weeks, Bakugo! I think I deserve an explanation!” 
“Fuck! I know!” He shouted, making you jump. He noticed it from the corner of his eye and took a deep breath before he spoke again, this time a little calmer.
“I knew your phone had died so I plugged it in for you. Figured I’d save you the hassle in the morning. It started going off like crazy once it turned back on and I assumed it was those idiots blowing up your phone. He slumped his shoulders, leaning back against the bench. “I was going to tell them to shut the hell up and leave you alone so you could sleep, but the messages were from some guy acting like your boyfriend or something - I got angry.” 
You fisted your hands in the hem of your shirt, feeling your nails dig into your palms through the thin material. “No shit! Why didn’t you talk to me?” 
His gaze shifted to the floor, unable to look in your direction after hearing the hurt and anger in your voice. “I wanted to! I knew I had upset you and I figured you’d be over it in a few days. But when Kirishima told me just how upset you were I just- I couldn’t. I’m just some asshole, and you deserve better than that. I couldn’t talk to you.” 
You glared at his profile, lips pressed into a thin line, waiting for him to face you and continue. The silence stretched on for several moments, so you cut in. “You could have texted me, called me, wrote me a note, sent me a fucking email for god’s sake! But instead, I was left sitting alone agonizing over what in the hell I could have done that made you so mad at me!” 
“I realized I fucked up. No matter how much I wanted to talk to you I know I’d just fuck it up and hurt you all over again.” He finally turned his gaze to you, features softening once he saw the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He ventured again, barely audible “But now I realize that not talking to you hurt you more than anything I could have done.” 
You aggressively wiped at your eyes as the tears escaped, realizing you were more frustrated by the burst of tears than you were angry with Bakugo.
“You had become such a constant in my day to day life, and just like that, the familiarity was gone. You were gone. You wouldn’t even look at me. I was literally packing my bags a week and a half ago because being around you was not only uncomfortable, but it hurt.” 
Bakugo shifted on the bench beside you, uncomfortable from the sudden burst of tears. He wasn’t good with his own emotions, let alone someone else's. A slew of curses ran through his brain as he tried to gather the right words to say to try to make you feel better. A stab of guilt shot through his heart watching your shoulders shake as you tried to hide your face from him. Damn, he thought, this is all my fault. He slid off the bench with an exasperated sigh, kneeling in front of you and tilting your face to meet his eyes. “Damn it, stop crying dumbass.” His hand slid up to your cheek, wiping the tears that continued to trail down your face. “Especially over some asshole.” 
Your eyes narrowed. “You’re the asshole I’m crying over.” You spat, pushing his hands away. 
“Listen. I’m not good at shit like this, alright?” His voice no longer held the softness it had just moments prior. You went to speak but he cut you off abruptly. “Just- let me talk, okay?” You nodded, letting him say his piece. 
He took a deep breath, eyes pointed at the ground. “I fucked up. I know I did, alright? I’m not- I don’t know how to do stuff like this, I never cared how anyone felt before you came along. To be honest, I regretted kicking you out as soon as I did it, hearing the pain in your voice then- Even now, it’s still… I don’t even know how to describe it. But, fuck. I'm just trying to say sorry, alright?” 
“It’s called guilt.” You sniffled, bumping your leg against his. 
He moved back beside you on the bench, and after a moment of hesitation he pulled your legs into his lap. Your heart fluttered at the sudden movement, and you were tempted to remove your legs from his light grip, but it felt right. You sighed and let yourself relax into him and he wrapped his free arm around you as you let your head rest on his shoulder. I’m so tired of being mad at him. You thought, I want this moment with him, I don’t want to fight against it. I’ve missed him so much. 
His hand came up, stroking your hair with a tenderness that surprised you, and you melted into his touch. “I know what it’s called, Dumbass.” 
You closed your eyes, taking in the scent of his body wash. It smelled like the forest after it had just rained, and reminded you of all of the nights you had fallen asleep in his room while you worked on videos or watched movies together. How you would wake up snuggled up to his firm chest and he would complain that you took up all the room on the bed so he had no choice but to be so close to you. You smiled fondly at the memory and felt a few more tears fall from your eyes. 
His hand rested on your knee and gently squeezed. “I thought I told you to stop crying over some asshole.” He slowly brought his hand up to wipe at your tears, assuming you would push him away once more. The weight of his hand disappeared from your head, drifting down to wipe your tears even though he was sure you’d try to push him away again. To his surprise, you let him.
You pressed your cheek into his calloused hand letting out a shaky sigh when it lingered a little longer than necessary. You looked up at him through wet eyelashes.
“Say it again.” You mumbled. 
He pulled his hand back, confused. “Don’t cry over an asshole? I think twice is enough, you really need to hear it a third time?”
“No, you idiot.” You sighed, pushing his shoulder. “You know what I mean.” 
He smirked and placed his hand on your knee. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
This time it wasn’t surrounded by a jumbled mess of an explanation, it wasn’t a quick, quiet apology like he had done prior. It felt genuine. It was genuine. You felt like a weight had been lifted from your chest, and you could feel the tears burning in your eyes again, but you pushed them back and let a shaky breath escape your lips. 
“I forgive you, but it’s not okay. Learn how to talk to people.” You flicked him on the forehead and he grabbed your wrist, returning the motion to your forehead. “Hey!” 
“I’m working on it, woman.” He let go of your wrist but slid your hand into his, gently squeezing it before dropping it completely. “Shitty Hair already told me about you and Sero, but I want to hear it from you.” 
“Damn it, Kirishima!” You threw your head back, covering your face with your hands. You had asked him not to say anything to Bakugo about it, scared that it would just anger the blonde and make him never want to speak to you again, and you were aggravated that your best friend had decided to tell Bakugo instead of just letting things take their course. But suddenly, what Kirishima told you had made sense. You two are going to be the death of me. At first, you thought he meant you and Sero, but the more you thought about it, he was talking about you and Bakugo. Mina said that Kirishima had been working with Bakugo for a while, and he was probably just trying to get a handle on the situation, tired of having to go back and forth especially if it was going to be all for nothing. Kirishima never should have been caught up in the middle of the mess between the two of you, Bakugo could have talked to you, and you could have just gotten over it and made him talk to you in person, even when he was ignoring all of your messages. 
 You narrowed your eyes once more, crossing your arms over your chest.“You drove Kirishima just as crazy as I did, didn’t you?” 
He mimicked you, quirking a brow as he crossed his arms over his own chest. “You have no proof.”
“Stop copying me, liar. I can’t believe I’m attracted to a liar.” You reached out to pry his arms from his chest, but he turned it around on you, grabbing yours and pulling you so close so you could feel his breath on your face. 
 “So you’re attracted to me?” You didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled down to your lips, then quickly darted back up to your eyes, a smirk forming on his own lips
“I never denied it.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as he moved his hand up your arm. “You would have known forever ago if you hadn’t been so mean to me.” 
His crimson eyes made their way back down to your lips once more, and you shivered under his gaze. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” He leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of you, observing your features carefully as he drew closer. He slowly closed his eyes, but you put a hand to his chest and stopped him. He eased back, pressing his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering open and breath heavy as if he had been holding it this whole time.
“What now, dumbass?” He was annoyed, but his voice wasn’t as gruff as it usually was. 
“I need to talk to Sero.” 
“Oh? Need to fake break up with your fake boyfriend?” He chuckled, hands trailing up and down your arms. “Come on, Y/N.” 
“Well, It’s a little more complicated than that.” You bit your lip and looked down, nervous to tell him about what had happened earlier in the night, anxiety eating at your nerves over the events of the evening.
He rolled his eyes as he waited for you to continue. “Spit it out, Y/N.”  
Sero had been there for you for this entire ordeal, hell even before Bakugo came into the picture, he was one you could always come to and he would welcome you with open arms, dropping whatever he was doing for you. And what if that kiss had meant something to him? Obviously, you were taken back by it at first and you weren’t sure how to feel, but he knew that all of this was for Bakugo, and since this - or at least something - was happening between you and Bakugo, he deserved to know what happened. 
“He kissed me earlier before you guys went on stage. He came down to get some drinks and we ran into each other at the bar. I just wanted to tell you because I didn’t want you finding out later and getting upset with me again.” 
“Mother fucker.” He pulled back and his hands tightened on your arms for a minute before he let go. You saw anger flash in his eyes, and you were preparing yourself for an outburst. “I was supposed to be the first one in this damn band of idiots to kiss you.” He was trying to keep a light tone with the joke, but you could tell he was struggling to keep his cool. 
“Hate to break it to you, he wasn’t the first to kiss me either.” You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair, always shocked at how soft his seemingly prickly hair was. 
“Shouldn’t be surprised you kissed that red-haired idiot.” He leaned his head back into your hand as you scratched his scalp, side-eyeing you as you giggled. 
“Wrong again! Jirou and I made out once or twice, no big deal.” You smiled as his mouth fell open in shock. “Actually, the only person I haven’t kissed is Kirishima. Well, and you.” His hands made their way down to your hips and he pinched you at your remark. 
“I don’t know why I’m so surprised. You two did seem close.” Soft circles were rubbed into your sides before a look of realization came across his face. “Wait, even that purple-haired bastard?” 
“Only once during spin the bottle when we were in high school.” You giggled, watching a pout form on his lips. “Aw, what’s the matter, Katsuki?” You reached up to pinch his cheek, “you jealous-“ He grabbed your hand, cutting you off and pulling you completely onto his lap, his lips just a few mere inches from yours. 
“What were you saying?” He whispered, his lips just barely ghosting against yours, eyes half shut, staring up at you. Goosebumps ran up your spine as he ran his hands up your sides. “Not so talkative now are we?” 
You inhaled sharply and placed your hands on either side of his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheek. “I missed you.” 
“I’ve been here the whole time.” He squeezed your sides and kissed your jaw, leaving tingles where his lips had met your skin. You visibly shivered and sighed, leaning more into him, allowing him to continue the light trail of kisses along your jaw. “Come back to my room.” He whispered. 
You nodded, opening your eyes and peering down at him. “After I talk to Sero.” His grip tightened at the sound of his name and you didn’t miss the way his face scrunched up in disapproval, but he lazily let his hands fall from your sides. “It won’t take long,” you promised, slowly making your way off his lap already, missing the presence of his hands on your sides. 
You had barely made it two steps away from him before you felt his hand at your wrist, pulling you back and twisting you around to face him once more. “You really thought I’d let you go that easily?” His free hand landed on your cheek, making its way to the back of your head and pulling you closer to him, his lips finally meeting yours. 
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svtshine · 3 years
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Unconditionally
pairing: Wonwoo x reader
genre: Angst to fluff, High school!au
type: imagine
extras: Wonwoo edit made by @delicatecy do check their page out! Open to requests ^^
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Agape
|a•ga•pe•| /n./
1. the highest form of love. Selfless, sacrificial and unconditional love; persists no matter the circumstances
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Day 1
Wonwoo dragged himself to school and stuffed his hands inside his hoodie pockets, his nose burried under his scarf. He longed to return to his warm bed amidst this cold winter morning. School was restarting and this year he would be attending as a second year student.
He sighed out, watching the cold air turn into white mist around him. There was another thing he dreaded. Maybe not a thing, but a human.
Y/n L/n
You began following him around like a lost puppy sometimes during last march. He never understood why you were so persistent but it annoyed him to no end.
Wonwoo began to hate everything about you. Your irritating smile that greeted him every morning without fail. Your stupid little notes you would slide into his locker telling him to have a nice day. Your voice as you chattered about god knows what. He had never paid any attention to you.
He wanted to be alone. Eat alone, study alone, walk home alone. He just wanted you gone. You were like a pest, a leech that he just couldn’t seem to remove
Wonwoo has shot you down for what seems to be like the hundredth time. Whenever you greet him with a smile, he glared back at you and shoved his locker close making you jump at the loud sound. He would try to purposefully trip you or tease you hurt fully to make you stay away. He even talk bad about you infront of girls hoping you would leave
But you never did. You always greeted him with a smile and talked about homework and stuff. You also prepared or bought lunch for him. Even if he was paired with another girl, you would follow him around
Wonwoo so badly wanted to get rid of you
He closed his locker after getting out his things and was met with the sight of you looking up at him and giving him a big smile. “Hi won, how’s your morning? Have you eaten?”
Wonwoo grunted, picked up his bag and went into the classroom. Thanking the girls that flocked around him would prevent you from coming closer to him.
Forgetting the fact that the teacher assigned you to sit infront of him. He knew you persuaded the teacher to change seats with another classmate. God you were so annoying.
You sat down at your seat and opened up your bag to find the lunchbox you got up early to prepare wonwoo. You weren’t exactly a chef but you wanted to try cooking one whole meal for him. Here wonnie. I prepared all your favourites again” you said hoping he might glance at you once and at least give you an acknowledgment.
Wonwoo paid no attention to you and instead focused on the conversation with some other girls and guys. Your smiled dropped and your heart felt like it received some stabs.
but this was normal
Wonwoo saw your smile drop and turn to face the front. He looked at the lunchbox in front of him. You usually didn’t cook. It was mainly sandwiches or snacks.
He didn’t notice the numerous bandages on your hand.
Day 2
You greeted him again at the lockers. Wonwoo was particularly moody that morning.
“Hi won, did you eat breakfast?” you asked him
“You’re not in the position to ask. Stop being so extra. Seriously just get a life.” He spit out coldly.
You were taken aback. Of course you knew he didn’t like you but he never said anything verbally before.
Wonwoo saw you flinch slightly and for a second he felt guilty. You looked so scared. but to his surprise you smiled brightly at him and replied with an “Okay”
Day 3 
“Yah wonwoo, why don’t we prank Y/n” one of the girls asked him 
Wonwoo glanced away not liking the sound of it
“You can invite her to a movie and just stand her up. You know like sending a message? She likes you but after this she might just stay away finally” One of the other girls said
Now Wonwoo was interested.
“Just tell her to meet you tomorrow at the entrance of the movie theatre because you have a free ticket”
Wonwoo knew it was a shit move but it might actually make you stay away and stop bothering him
“Fine” shooeing away all the other people before tapping your shoulder.
“Y/n” You smiled excitedly since this was one of the few times he wanted to initiate a small conversation. Wonwoo on the other hand wanted to scrunch his face in disgust at how desperate you looked.
“i have two free tickets to a movie. So tomorrow at 5? outside the theatre?” You bobbed your head up and down.
Wonwoo almost felt bad at how much you were looking forwards to going out with him and even wanted to tell you the truth
But he clenched his fists and put on a small fake smile
This would be his chance to finally get rid of you
Day 4
You greeted Wonwoo per usual.
“So wonwoo, what are we going to watch later?” You waited for his answer as you stood beside his locker
“oh uh” Wonwoo hesitated for a while, “We can decide later”
Luckily for him, the bell rang and the both of you had to return to class.
After school, you rushed back home and found the perfect outfit for the movie.
You took about two hours to find the perfect outfit and reach the theatre on time.
You kept glancing at the watch on your wrist. It was nearly 30 minutes after five and there was no sign of Wonwoo anywhere. However, you never left and continued waiting in case he came late
About 8.10 pm, Wonwoo passed by the theatre towards the library to get some new books. That was when he saw you. The library was opposit the theatre thus it gave him a good view of you
and you wouldn’t be able to spot and follow him
You were blowing into your palms and dressed in an adorable flowery dress. It was getting closer with each hour.
Wonwoo’s glanced at his clock. she’s been waiting her for 5 hours?
He felt bad. He knew how bad of an idea this was but he had never meant to take it that far
But maybe after this she might really leave, won’t she?
He clenched his fists and bit his lip from walking over and telling her the truth
Day 5
As wonwoo took his first few steps into school he mentally thought to himself, in 5, 4, 3, 2,1 and the leech is back.
But he was taken aback when he didn’t hear your cheery voice greeting him good morning. Maybe at the lockers? He convinced himself.
Wonwoo got all of his stuff ready, and prepared himself for your cheery voice greeting him good morning. But as he closed his locker and turned around to where you usually stood, there was no sign of you.
Wonwoo hesitated. Why didn’t he feel happy that you weren’t there anymore?
Why did he feel so empty? like he missed seeing you beside him everyday.
He shook his head and walked to class. Maybe she forgot to catch the train?
Day 8
it’s been 3 days and there was absolutely no sign of you.
Wonwoo twirled his pen around in his hand and stared at the seat infront of him, chin on his hand. Usually he would be able to stare at your hair whenever he was bored, and sure sometimes he’d roll his eyes at how annoying you were.
But now, he sort of missed you.
Wonwoo missed how you would greet him at the lockers in the morning. How you would prepare or buy him lunch. How you always make sure to refill his bottle before and after physical class so that he has enough water to drink.
He couldn’t help but feel the intense guilt from standing you up that day
“Class before we end today’s lesson” the teacher said while packing up his books.
Wonwoo looked up, “Unfortunately, our classmate, Y/n met with a terrible car accident 4 days ago near the theatre. Thus, she’s isn’t going to be able to attend school for a while.”
Wonwoo’s breathing stopped
4 days ago. Near the theatre
He was right there. Watching her wait for him.
The guilt in his chest spread even more. He could’ve done something. Told her the truth. Not fking stand her up?
You’ve done so much for him, and even though he thought you were a nuisance, treated you badly your smile never faltered. You looked out for him unconditionally
Always made sure he was okay before you took care of yourself.
“Once she is allowed visitors” The teacher continued. “i would need a volunteer to pass her school materials and teach her some of the homework”
Wonwoo raised his hand immediately.
Day 11
Wonwoo heard the beeping of the machines wherever he walked in the hospital.
In his hands were your homework over the past one week that you haven’t attended school and a bouquet of flowers. The teacher had informed him your condition had improved greatly over the one week and that he was allowed to visit her.
Finally.
Wonwoo missed you. So damn much. He actually visited your hospital everyday hoping you would be walking downstairs and he would just wait there for a few hours before returning home.
He wasn’t able to catch one sight of you. This was probably how you felt when he stood you up.
Wonwoo finally found your room. He inhaled and exhaled to stop himself for being so nervous. Knocking twice, he heard your soft voice saying it was okay to come in.
He saw you lying on the bed. A book in your hands, your hair in a bun and wearing reading glasses.
You were shocked to the bones. Your parents informed you that the teacher had sent a volunteer to pass you the stuff you missed out in but never in the whole world would you have expected Wonwoo. With flowers as well.
He probably was forced into this.
“Wonwoo, you can just put those down here and leave. I’m sure you were forced into doing this. Thank you” you said gently.
Wonwoo shook his head and sat down on the chair beside you after closing the door
“No”
You tilted your head in confusion. Why wouldn’t he want to leave?
“you’ve always cared for me” Wonwoo spoke
“Greeting me, wishing me a good day, buying or making me lunch, refilling my bottle and even writing down my notes when i fall asleep in class” his voice got less steady with each sentence.
“I’ve never treated you nicely. Always brushed you away, thought you were a nuisance. When you’re the one person who cared for me like no one else.” He looked down. “You always smile at me even if i treat you badly”
You hesitantly took your hand and combed it through his hair, the whole time looking at Wonwoo if he was comfortable with it. But he only nuzzled closer to your palm
“That day, when i invited you to the movies. They asked me to prank you, and thinking selfishly that you would stop bothering me after that, i-i just stood you up”
He took your hands into his. Loving the way it fit perfectly in his palms.
“I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m sorry for not seeing how great you were. For judging your actions and for not caring for you sooner. i got you into this car accident. If i went to the theatre, maybe things would’ve been different. You wouldn’t have had to go through so much pain. All because of me” By now, Wonwoo’s eyes were filled with tears and they fell steadily.
You didn’t say anything, just shifted closer to him and brushed away his tears before smiling brightly at him. “Wonwoo, i forgive you. i’ll always look out for you, you know that. Unconditionally”
Wonwoo felt his heart rate pick up
Day 15
Over the days, you were significantly getting better. Wonwoo visited every single day and brought you snacks that you like. After getting closer this few days, Wonwoo was able to see how great of a person you are.
One day, he was coming into the hospital when he saw you with the children in the reading corner. You read them a book and made sure everyone was engaged. The way you smiled at them, made Wonwoo feel so proud of your kindness.
He would usually see you pushing older residents through the garden and talking to them.
He realised how much he missed of you. How you deserved that much kindness and humility back.
Wonwoo came into your hospital room that one time and you fell asleep waiting for him. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful that Wonwoo couldn’t help but raise his hand and brush away your stray hair before staring at you.
He left a peck on your forehead.
Day 18
You were finally being discharged. The doctors ran some tests and made sure you were completely healed but still had to avoid some physical activities in school.
The whole day the two of you ran to the children’s room and the older residents’s room, handing out snacks and flowers, wishing for their quick recovery.
Everyone hugged you before you left, thanking you for spending time with them.
With the promise that you would return and visit them, you left the hospital, hand in hand with Wonwoo.
Your parents were busy, thus they thanked Wonwoo for helping to see you home.
Wonwoo saw the big smile on your face and finally got up the courage, “So y/n”
you faced him and hummed.
“i was wondering, if, if you know we could come visit them together?” He said, hand in the nape of his neck.
You nodded quickly, happy that he wanted to spend more time with you. You couldn’t contain your excitement and wrapped your arms tightly around him.
Wonwoo carefully twirled you around and chuckled. “and, maybe afterwards, i could really bring you to the movies?”
You nodded, hands on his neck and his on your waist.
“I fell in love with you Y/n L/n, now it’s my turn to take care of you. Unconditionally”
Masterlist
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
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Stark Spangled Banner
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Ch 14: Nothing Personal
Summary: Steve confronts Fury about the Lemurian Star mission and the Director reveals just exactly what it is he’s been working on. However, when Fury is later gunned down in Steve’s apartment right in front of the Captain and Katie, the two are forced to run from the very people they’ve called colleagues and friends for years.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
Warnings: Language! Violence.
A/N: I love this edit from @angrybirdcr​
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Chapter 13
Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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“You just can’t stop yourself from lying, can you?” Steve seethed as he crossed the floor of Fury’s office.
Nick didn’t even need to ask him what he was talking about. Without turning round the Director spoke calmly. “I didn’t lie. Agent Romanoff had a different mission than yours.”
“Which you didn’t feel obliged to share” Steve pressed, raising an eyebrow as the Director spun in his chair to face him.
“I’m not obliged to do anything” Fury replied simply, looking at him.
“Those hostages could’ve died, Nick.” Steve pressed, holding the man’s gaze.
“I sent the greatest soldier in history to make sure that didn’t happen.” Fury stated, and Steve could feel his temper rising even more. He hated the blasé attitude the Director was discussing the issue with, like it was simply something he wasn’t all that bothered about.
“Soldiers trust each other, that’s what makes it an army.” He said after a short pause. “Not a bunch of guys running around and shooting guns.”
He wasn’t expecting the response he got. Fury leaned forward, frowning as he levelled Steve with a look.
“The last time I trusted someone, I lost an eye.” Fury spoke, his tone steely. Steve cocked his head to one side, crossing his arms but maintaining his silence. “Look, I didn’t want you doing anything you weren’t comfortable with. Agent Romanoff is comfortable with everything.”
“I can’t lead a mission when the people I’m leading have missions of their own.” Steve pointed down at Fury’s desk, stressing his point.
“It’s called compartmentalization” Fury eyed him. “Nobody spills the secrets because nobody knows them all.” Steve snorted silently and gestured at Fury. “Except you.” Fury took a deep breath and levelled Steve with a look. “You’re wrong about me. I do share. I’m nice like that.” Steve frowned as Fury stood up and motioned for him to follow.
“Where are we going?” Steve’s frustration was evident on his tone.
“You’ll see.” Fury stepped inside the elevator. Steve followed. “Insight bay.”
A photo of Nick’s SHIELD ID flashed up on the screen, surrounded by a green light. Then Steve noticed his, but the light was red as the SHIELD computer spoke. “Captain Rogers does not have clearance for Project Insight.”
“Director override, Fury, Nicholas J.” Fury spoke, without missing a beat.
“Confirmed.”
The elevator started to moved downwards. Steve leaned against the rail which ran round the middle of the glass box and clasped his hands in front of him by his belt. Despite his initial annoyance, he had found himself beginning to understand what the Director was saying. SHIELD had so many secrets, many a matter of national security. It made no sense for everyone to know everything, it was a security risk, he got that. But it still irked him.
“You know, they used to play music.” Steve said, his tone softer as he broke the silence, making a joke at his own expense.
“Yeah. My grandfather operated one of these things for forty years.” Fury mused, somewhat nostalgic. “My granddad worked in a nice building, he got good tips. He’d walk home every night, roll of ones stuffed in his lunch bag. He’d say ‘hi’, people would say hi back. Time went on, neighbourhood got rougher. He’d say ‘hi’ they’d say, ‘Keep on steppin’. Granddad got to grippin’ that lunch bag a little tighter.”
The flash into Fury’s personal life surprised Steve somewhat. He cocked his head to one side and looked at the man. “Did he ever get mugged?”
“Every week some punk would say, “What’s in the bag?”
“What did he do?”
“He’d show ‘em. Bunch of crumpled ones and loaded point twenty-two Magnum.” Fury smirked “Granddad loved people. But he didn’t trust them very much.”
Steve had to smirk slightly, thinking that Fury sounded a hell of a lot like his grandpa. He looked down for a second, and when he looked up he was aware that they had now travelled down the side of the Triskellion and were descending further, underground even. As Steve looked around he realised he was in some sort of below building hangar, and he looked out of the glass, spotting three giant Helicarriers. His mouth fell open in surprise, his brow furrowing.
“Yeah, I know. They’re a little bit bigger than a point twenty-two.” Fury remarked.
Eventually the elevator stopped and Fury stepped out, Steve hot on his tail as he watched people bustling around the hangar shouting, carrying things, fixing things. The helicarriers were bigger than the one they’d used during the Chitauri invasion, each being able to house at least twenty Quinjets.
“This is Project Insight.” Fury explained as he led Steve across the floor of the hangar. “Three next generation Helicarriers synced to a network of targeting satellites.”
And then Steve understood. “Launched from the Lemurian Star.”
“Once we get them in the air they never need to come down. Continuous suborbital flight courtesy of our new repulsor engines.” Fury stopped underneath one.
“Stark?” Steve asked, frowning.
“Well, he had a few suggestions once he got an up close look at our old turbines.” Fury nodded, as they continued. “But don’t worry, that’s not something Nova is keeping from you.”
“I wasn’t” Steve said honestly, as he looked up and around the hangar. “I trust my girl.”
Fury looked at him before he turned his attention back to the matter in hand and pointed up again “These new long range precision guns can eliminate a thousand hostiles a minute. The satellites can read a terrorist’s DNA before he steps outside his spidy hole. We gonna neutralize a lot of threats before they even happen.”
Steve crossed his arms. “I thought the punishment usually came after the crime.”
“We can’t afford to wait that long.”
Steve could feel the nerve twitching in his jaw. “Who’s ‘we’?”
“After New York, I convinced the World Security Council we needed a quantum surge in threat analysis. For once we’re way ahead of the curve”
“By holding a gun at everyone on Earth and calling it protection?” Steve looked at the director, frowning. He didn’t like this. It smacked of something HYDRA would do.
Fury picked up on his tone and he looked at Steve, arching an eyebrow. “You know, I read those SSR files. Greatest generation? You guys did some nasty stuff.”
Don’t I know it? Steve thought to himself as he took a deep breath. “Yeah, we compromised. Sometimes in ways that made us not sleep so well. But we did it so the people could be free.” He turned and pointed at the helicarriers before looking at Fury “This isn’t freedom, this is fear.”
“SHIELD takes the world as it is, not as we’d like it to be.” Fury stated simply. “It’s getting damn near past time for you to get with that program, Cap”
Steve shook his head. “Don’t hold your breath.” And with that he left.
He changed quickly, eager to put as much distance between him and SHIELD as possible for the rest of the day. After a short conversation with Rumlow about a mission report, he was on his bike and heading for Katie’s apartment, his mind whirling. What was Fury playing at? This wasn’t what he signed up for, at all. It felt so far removed from what he had joined the army to do, to keep people safe, free. Had he really changed that much? He felt a sudden pang for his Howling Commandoes, for Bucky, for Peggy, for Colonel Philips, for all those damned missions which had been simple- destroy HYDRA before they destroyed you.
Despite the fact he had woken up that morning and felt so happy with his girl being there, he couldn’t help but wish life was as simple as it had been back then.
*****
Katie’s morning had been far more productive. She had looked at a couple of transcript extracts her editor had selected. She had to admit, the guy had a good eye for a future blockbuster, and this one she particularly liked. After discussions, they settled on an initial run of two hundred hard copy of the books to be sold online, along with a downloadable kindle version, and if they went they would review how many more we needed.
Pleased with her mornings work and having cleared her diary for the afternoon, she had lunch in the kitchen and had just finished when she heard the elevator door open. She headed into the main area of her apartment to greet Steve, taking a deep breath as she noticed how drained he looked.
“Dare I ask how it went?”
His response was a sigh as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug, simply wanting to feel her close.
“That good huh?” She squeezed him back gently before she pulled away and headed towards the kitchen, him following behind her.
“Debrief was fine. Fury, however, went on about compartmentalisation, the usual crap.” Steve sighed, running his hand over his face, smiling softly to himself when he saw she was gathering stuff out of the fridge to make him a sandwich “And then shared something I really wish he hadn’t.”
“Like what?” she asked, throwing some turkey and mayo onto a sub. “Ever heard of Operation Insight?” Steve looked at her, even though he knew the answer. There’s no way she would have and not told him.
“No?” She handed him the plate containing his sandwich.
“Well apparently your brother has. Thanks.” He took the plate from her sat at the breakfast bar taking a bite of his food. He swallowed and then continued “Three huge hellicarriers that are basically designed to go up in the air and never come down based on Tony’s arc reactor tech. Programmed to monitor potential threats and wipe them out before they get chance to do anything.” She frowned, settling on the stool next to him. “And Fury has sanctioned this?”
Steve nodded, taking another bite of his food. “I don’t like it. Like I said to him, punishment normally comes after the crime.”
Katie could see he was really struggling with this and that his faith in SHIELD was running very, very thin. A lot of what the Agency did was political, not just about keeping people safe. She’d tried to explain that the lines were a lot more blurred than back in the 40s, but still had to admit she was kind of with him. As she pondered for a moment, Steve could see the cogs whirring in her brain, the slight v shape crease that always formed in the middle of her eyes when she was thinking was present. Steve didn’t blame her, it had thrown him too and he’d had the full explanation. The hangar had been huge, and there were enough people in there to make him realise that a LOT of people knew about it. What he didn’t know was who on his immediate team knew about it.
“I just wanna know who I can trust” He sighed, looking at Katie as she reached out gently, touching his cheek.
“I know, Soldier.” she said, softly before she shook her head. “Okay, no more talk about SHIELD or hellicarriers, or whatever.” She moved to pick up her soda. “What do you want to for the rest of the afternoon?”
Steve wanted to go to the Smithsonian. He’d been thinking about it since they had emailed him to invite him to open the exhibit on him, which he had politely declined. But he was curious to see what it was like, curious and also eager, after today, to be reminded of a time when he worked with people he knew inside out, people that he would trust with his life. And he was keen to share that with his girl, the woman who had months ago before they even started dating, been the one to help him pick what the museum would display.
“You know, we’ve still not been to the Smithsonian since they opened the exhibit.” He shruged, hoping his tone was casual enough to make it sound like he hadn’t been thinking about it enough. He failed though, smiling as Katie looked at him, arching an eyebrow.
Busted.
“Call it curiosity.” He shrugged.
“You know what curiosity did don’t you?” Katie quipped back, her eyes flashing playfully.
“What?”
She grinned as she delivered the punchline “Killed the Cap.”
*****
“A symbol to the nation. A hero to the world. The story of Captain America is one of honour, bravery and sacrifice,” the narrator at the Smithsonian museum said as we entered the exhibit.
Steve paused to pull the collar of his blue jacket up a little further, a gesture that, along with the cap that was pulled down over his face, he hoped would prevent him from being recognised as they made their way to the start of the pieces.
"Denied enlistment due to poor health, Steven Rogers was chosen for a program unique in the annals of American warfare. One that would transform him into the world’s first super soldier,” the Narrator continued. Steve paused to look at the display to his right when Katie gently nudged him.
“Think you’ve been rumbled.”
Steve looked down at her, and then followed her gaze as she looked to her left at a small boy dressed in a light blue T-shirt adorned with the design of his shield who was watching the pair of them, his eyes growing wide. Steve smiled, put a finger against his mouth to indicate for him to keep quiet. The boy nodded and then turned, running back off to find his mum.
Without speaking Steve took her hand and led her over to the part of the exhibit that had an older looking motorcycle on a platform and some black and white footage playing beside it. The footage was of him in his older Captain America uniform, also currently on display, running through a battlefield.
“In this rare footage, everyone’s favourite war hero, Captain America…”
He didn’t stop to hear the rest, he could remember that mission by heart. It had been on the outskirts of Toulouse, liberating another HYDRA prison camp. Katie allowed herself to be led by him, this was his moment after all. They slowly walked to a display of mannequins dressed in his original suit, plus those of the Howling Commandos, which had been donated by their families. His eyes lingered on Bucky’s for a second and he took a deep breath.
“Battle tested, Captain America and his Howling Commandos quickly earned their stripes. Their mission, taking down HYDRA, the Nazi rogue science division,”
Katie looked at the uniforms, a smile on her face. She had only seen photos of Steve’s war suit, never seen it in person and it intrigued her. More so because this was something that her dad had made, something physical he had touched. She felt a tug on her hand again, and she looked up to see that she was being led to a section dedicated to Bucky. The familiar (albeit again, only from photos), handsome face of his best friend looked back at them as they wandered over to read what it said in more detail.
“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers were inseparable on both school yard and battlefield. Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country…”
The narration didn’t cover half the text on the black, glass screen and in Katie’s opinion it wasn’t a particularly good tribute to a man who had lost his life in such tragic circumstances. She read the rest of the text as Steve’s eyes skated over it, reading, despite the fact he knew it all. He wished he could have saved him, he really did. He’d loved him to have been able to meet Katie. But then, he wouldn’t have anyway. As he would have most likely been dead now. Or what’s to say things may or may not have ended up differently. Would Buck have been on the Valkyrie with him?
He watched the black and white footage playing, where the two of them were talking and then laughing about something and he felt the sadness hit his chest again. And as if she sensed it too, Katie gripped his hand a little bit tighter and lay her head against his arm, her weight giving him something to anchor himself too, and he was grateful for it.
They carried on walking and then they found there was a small cinema area a bit further round the corner playing footage and interviews. Steve paused for a second and then looked at Katie, the question stayed silent. She nodded and together they walked in, taking a seat on one of the benches. There was a bit of introduction footage, and then a familiar face appeared on the screen.
Besides him Katie took a deep breath and whispered a single word “Dad…” and he automatically dropped a hand to her knee, where she placed hers on top of his as the two of them watched her father an animatedly talking to the camera.
“Rogers was different” Howard spoke, smiling, the caption on the screen telling him the footage had been filmed in 1953. “He was constantly striving to do the right thing, with no fear or care for how it would affect him. He, err, when we dropped him behind enemy lines we had no idea if we would see him again. I narrowly escaped myself, the machine guns nearly took our aircraft down but without thought to how he would get back, he told us to leave him behind. When they declared him missing in action the entire company was devastated but, lo and behold… well they can’t keep a good man down.”  Howard paused and then looked down and back up at the camera “I can only hope that if I’m graced with Children, they grow up to be half as driven as he was to do the right thing…”
As Katie looked down at her feet, a stray tear fell down her cheek. Seeing her dad there like that was raw. She knew that Tony felt the loss of their parents far more than she did, she had only been seven after all when they had died and Tony had been her father, if you will, for far longer than her actual dad had. But still, seeing him in front of her so candidly, talking about his hopes for his future children, made something in her chest tighten and she couldn’t help but feel sadness at the fact she never got the chance to really know him. Steve gently squeezed her knee, but then as they looked back up at the screen it was his turn to still as someone he recognised extremely well, her face painted into his memory for life, entered the screen and began speaking, also in 1953. 
"That was a difficult winter. A blizzard had trapped half our battalion behind the German line. Steve, Captain Rogers, he fought his way through a HYDRA blockade that had pinned our allies down for months.” Peggy Carter stumbled slightly through the interview. “He saved over a thousand men, including the man who would become my husband as it turned out. Even after he died, Steve was still changing my life,” And despite the fact that she smiles slightly at the end of this line, it’s clear to see that talking about Steve affected her a lot.
Katie leaned against him and with a breath he lay his head on top of hers. “We haven’t seen her for a while…” she whispered as the video finished. “Shall we go on the way home?” He gave a soft chuckle and dropped a kiss to the crown of her head.
“You read my mind.”
*******
Peggy was pleased to see them, as always when she was having a good day. They both greeted her and after a few pleasantries they told her about their trip to the Smithsonian. Peggy smiled, informing them that she remembered the interview, like it was yesterday, apparently the man interviewing her had been an “utter rogue”, but she didn’t elaborate on what that meant further than saying he was worse than Barnes, which made Steve laugh.  They chatted a little about her time as Director at SHIELD before she trailed off with a sigh as she noticed that Steve was uncharacteristically quiet. After a little gentle coaxing from her and Katie he told her what was on his mind.
“My whole life I’ve just wanted to do what was right, I guess I’m not sure what that is anymore.” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to voice his worries about SHIELD “And I thought I could just throw myself back in and follow orders, it’s just not the same.”
Peggy chuckled as she rolled her eyes and looked at Katie. “He’s always so dramatic.”
Katie let out a small laugh, nodding her agreement. “Tell me about it!”
Steve shook his head, a smile on his face as he raised his eyebrows slightly and looked away as Peggy continued to speak.
“Look you saved the world, we rather mucked it up.”
“No you didn’t. You know, knowing that you helped found SHIELD is half the reason I stay.”
“And the other half being?” Her eyes strayed to Katie who smiled, looking down and then up at Steve as he caught her eye, his hand resting on her knee.
“I quit remember?” Katie reminded her.
Peggy smiled “Indeed, a woman with principles. That I can get on board with. ”Katie gave a little smile as Peggy continued. “Look, the world has changed and none of us can go back.” She spoke softly. “All we can do is our best, and sometimes the best that we can do is to start over.“
At that she started to cough. Steve quickly picked up a glass of water from the table and rounded the back of the chair Katie was sitting in to try and hand her the glass. 
"Peg?” He held the glass out as her coughing subsided and she took a sip. Once she had finished she looked up and stared at Steve as if she was seeing a ghost
“Steve?” Peggy breathed out in an amazed yet broken voice.
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, his heart sinking as he recognised the look in her face. Her memory had gone, again.
“You’re alive! You, you came, you came back,” Peggy whimpered. Tears were gathering in her eyes at this point as she tried to hold them back and Steve was struggling to do the same with his own. One of the smartest, nicest, bravest women he had ever met was being betrayed by an illness that was literally rotting her brain. It was cruel, and every time she did this, they went through the same routine.
“Yeah, Peggy.” Steve responded forcing a smile onto his face as Katie squeezed his hand gently, standing up so he could take the chair next to Peggy.
“It’s been so long. So long,” Peggy started to cry, giving up on holding back her tears.
“I’ll leave you with her.” Katie spoke softly as she gently touched Steve’s shoulder. His hand briefly reached up to lay over hers before he leaned over to take Peggy’s.
“Well, I couldn’t leave you.” He forced himself to smile. “Not when you still owe me a dance.”
Normally that calmed the old lady down, but not today. She was becoming more and more confused and in the end he had to press the call button.
“Again?” The nurse who attended asked softly, and Steve simply nodded.
“I’ll fetch the doctor.”
Outside Katie took a deep breath and headed towards her car. Ex partners could always be an issue in relationships but this was something else, something completely different. She opened the passenger side to the car and sat side on in the seat, door open, legs dangling out. She felt sorry for Peggy, she really did, and her heart ached for Steve. It can’t be easy seeing the woman he once loved, and probably still did in some way, fading like that in front of your eyes.
She ran her hand over her face, rubbing at her eyes slightly and waited as she watched various people coming and going out of the main doors of the hospital. It wasn’t that long before a familiar figure appeared, a flash of white T-shirt standing out against his dark navy jacket and equally dark jeans as he walked towards her, hands in his pockets. She stood up, not saying a word as she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his face into the nook of her shoulder and neck, his safe place, his hands gently resting on her hips as he breathed out a sigh.
“Is she okay?” she asked gently. “Yeah they sedated her.” He said as he pulled away.
“I’m so sorry Steve.”
“What for?” “Peggy…it’s so unfair.” “Yeah…” He replied simply. And it was. He wished things could be different, that Peggy wasn’t ill. That she could be home, with her family, living out the last years of her life with the dignity she had lived the rest of it. She deserved more. He looked over the car roof across the street and watched for a second, everyone milling about their business, getting on with their lives. Like he was, and whilst he wished things had been different for Peggy, he suddenly found himself thinking and wondering if he would change anything if he could.
He felt Katie still in front of him, reacting to the fact he himself had changed posture, and as he looked down at her he was suddenly struck with the answer to his question. Despite everything, despite his sudden feelings of nostalgia sparked by the events of the last twenty hours or so, no he wouldn’t. Because whatever had happened, every action, every decision, it had led him to the girl now in his arms, and he loved her so fucking much it hurt. Yeah he had loved Peggy, he still did in some ways, but it was nothing compared to this. Nothing.
He reached out and took Katie’s hands, pulling up her arms so they were round his neck, pulling her closer to him as his own hands joined at the bottom of her back
“I love you.” He said gently, needing her to understand, to believe him. “My best girl.”
“I hope I’m your only girl, Rogers.”  She sassed back with a sniff, and he smiled softly, happy that she understood.
“How about we head back to mine and not leave the flat for the entire day tomorrow?” Steve looked down at her, the idea suddenly coming to him and her face lit up. Katie loved lazy days. It was rare Steve was in the mood for them, his incessant energy normally meant he had to be doing something. But on the odd time he agreed, it usually involved them staying in bed till about midday, then watching old movies on the TV under a blanket on the couch, maybe a bit of fooling around and then calling a take out before retreating back to bed. Right now that sounded like a damned fine idea. “Can you clear your diary?”
“Consider it cleared.”
“I just wanna make one quick stop on the way home” He suggested, his journey of contemplation was leading him to one more place. He glanced at his watch before planting a kiss on her lips as she looked at him questioningly. “Thought we could pay our jogging friend a visit.”
********
“Look who it is. The running man and his pretty girl.” Sam joked slightly as he came over to the doorway where Katie and Steve were stood.
“Hey.” Katie smiled as he dropped a kiss onto her cheek.
“Caught the last few minutes. It’s pretty intense,” Steve commented as Sam shook his hand.
“Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret,” Sam shrugged.  As his sentence went on his voice got more serious and softer.
“Have you lost someone?” Steve asked, perceptive as ever. Katie mentally cursed herself for not filling him in fully, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered to talk about it. He nodded gently.
“My wingman, Riley. Fly in the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn’t done a thousand times before, till an RPG knock Riley’s dumb ass out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It’s like I was up there just to watch,” Sam paused to cross his arms over his chest, his posture slightly tense. “After that, I had really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?”
“But you’re happy now, back in the world?” Steve asked
“Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about zero. So, hell, yeah,” Sam joked, loosening up slightly, before getting a bit serious, “You thinking about getting out?”
“No.” Steve replied quickly before he took a breath. “I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”
“Ultimate fighting?” Sam shrugged and Steve laughed as Katie snorted.  “It’s just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”
Steve turned his head to look at Katie, an unconscious movement, smiling gently as he shrugged. “I dunno…”
“Oh I think you do.” Sam said, smirking slightly as Steve placed his hand on the small of his girl’s back.
“Oh, stop by the front desk on your way out,” Katie turned to Sam, smirking, and he raised an eyebrow in question,
“We asked for you by name.” Steve clarified.
“She seemed thoroughly impressed.” Katie finished. Both of Sam’s eyebrows rose at that and he looked down the hallway towards where the front desk was.
“You two are the best.” A smile stretching across his face as he began to turn to head down the hall. “Stop by anytime.”
“No problem.” Steve grinned in amusement as Sam jogged his way down the hall.
It was gone eight by the time they got home, having made a pit stop for a beer on the way. Steve held the door open for Katie, and she stepped into the apartment building and started to climb the stairs in front of him, giving him a quite pleasing view of her ass as her hips swayed side to side in front of him.
“Sam’s right you know.” She continued their discussion from the bar. “And so is Peggy.”
“What about?”
“If you wanted to get out you could do, start over.”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I want, but spending the rest of my life playing janitor for Fury is not it.”
“I can write you a resignation note.” She grinned and Steve chuckled slightly and then took a deep breath.
“You know, it’s funny when I think about it. Us, stuff, what we’ve done and how far we’ve come in a year.”
“You’re saying it like it’s a bad thing.” She teased as she stepped onto his landing.
“No, that’s not what I mean at all.”  He took a deep breath as she headed towards his door and turned to face him “You know, I’ve never really talked to anyone or shown them about my past in detail or introduced anyone to Peggy bar you.”
“Well I am your girlfriend.” She shrugged, holding onto the hand that wasn’t digging into his jeans pocket to fish out his keys.  “Your best girl.” At that he smiled. “So you should be able to talk to me about anything.”
“I know, I’m not explaining myself very well.”  He remarked, finally succeeding in obtaining his keys. And he wasn’t. He was trying to tell her that he couldn’t imagine his life without her, that he wanted her to share his everything, including his home.
“Spit it out Rogers.” She teased as he slid the key into the lock.
He took a deep breath. “Coming home last night and you being there…and then this morning…it was perfect, Doll, and I want that all the time.” He turned to face her leaving his key hanging from the door. “How would you feel about us maybe moving in together?”
She paused for a moment, looking at him, realising he was deadly serious. She raised her eyebrow.
“I thought you came from a time where man and woman didn’t live together until they were married?”
“We could get married if you want.” He blurted out. That made Katie raise both eyebrows as she studied him again, her mouth dropping into a small ‘o’. Steve looked back at her, trying to keep his face passive, as if it had been a joke, even though he knew it wasn’t. He’d known for months she was the one.
But to blurt it out like that? Outside his apartment door, in such a dumbass way?
Way to go, Rogers.
Katie cocked her head to one side, there was a funny look on Steve’s face that she couldn’t place. But whatever it was, even if Steve was serious about them getting married, she knew him well enough to understand that was not how he would want to propose, and that he was probably kicking himself about stumbling it out the way he had done. So she broke the nervous tension, as she always did, with a slight joke.
“You know, that’s not much of a proposal.” She slid her arms up around his neck. “But its one step up from you’d make a great housewife, I suppose.”
“Should I try again?” A cheeky grin spread across his face, glad the tone was playful, his arms circling her waist “Yeah, with a big, fuck off Tiffany diamond.”
“I didn’t think you were so materialistic?”
“Well, you know what they say? Diamonds are a girls’ best friend.”
“And there I was, thinking it was me.” He muttered, his lips pressing onto hers.
“That’s so sweet!” A voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Kate, his neighbour from over the hall. For a split second Steve thought she was talking to them but it soon became apparent she was on the phone. “That’s so nice…but hey, I gotta go…okay bye…”
She dropped the phone into the basket of laundry she was carrying before grinning at us both “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac”
Steve smile before looking at the basket of washing in her arms as he dropped his arm round Katie’s shoulder “you know if you want…if you want, you can use my machine. Might be easier and cheaper than the one in the basement.” “Thank you, but I already have a load in downstairs actually, and you really don’t want my scrubs in your machine.” She grinned. “I just finished a rotation on the infectious diseases ward, so,”
“Ah, well, we’ll keep our distance,” Steve grinned, holding his hands up, palms out.
“Hopefully not too far.” She chuckled. “Don’t want to lose my best neighbour. Okay, well I better be off.” She turned to go before she stopped and spun back round to look at Steve. “Oh, by the way, I think you left your stereo on.”
“Right, thank you.” Steve watched her go, frowning. He looked at Katie as they both pressed their ears to the door. The record player was certainly on but…
“We definitely didn’t leave that on before.”  Katie looked at him, as the gentle tones of Kitty Kallen Long Long Time hit their ears.
Steve held his finger up to his lips and gestured to the window, before leaving Katie where he was. He ran off, down the stairs as fast as he could and then he scaled the gate on the fire escape easily. Once he reached the steps which were parallel to his window he took a running jump, easily pulling himself up over the sill and into the kitchen area. Quickly and quietly he moved along the wall, picking up his shield which was leaning against the shelving unit. Holding it up, he cautiously peered round the corner of the room into the living area and instantly relaxed when he saw Fury lounging in a chair.
“I don’t remember giving you a key.” He said, somewhat sardonically.
“What, you really think I’d need one?” Nick replied. Steve shook his head and headed to the front door of the flat, pulling it open.
“Fury.” He said with a roll of his eyes, turning and walking back into the apartment.
“Huh?” Katie asked as she followed him into the living room, where the music was coming from, to see Fury sitting on the couch in the dark.
“What are you doing here?” She demanded.
"Nice to see you too, Nova. And in answer to your question my wife kicked me out.”
“I didn’t know you were married,” She continued, frowning. And she didn’t. And she wasn’t sure that he was.
“There are a lot of things you don’t about me,” Fury replied casually.
“I know, Nick. That’s the problem,” Steve grumbled walking forward as Katie remained where she was, eyes narrowed at her old boss. Steve flipped on the light switch, instantly recoiling in surprise when he noticed Fury’s injuries. Besides him Katie gasped slightly and moved to get closer to help but Fury indicated for her to stop and the both of them to stay quiet. He turned off the light again and typed something on his phone.
'EARS EVERYWHERE’.
Bugs? His apartment was bugged? By who? They both exchanged a glance and instantly Katie looked up and around the room, as if she expected to see a microphone glaring at them.
“I’m sorry to have to do this but I had nowhere else to crash,” Fury looked around a bit before he typed something else up on his phone:
'SHIELD COMPROMISED’.
Steve and Katie shared another glance, the pair of them wide eyed. This was bad.
“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked, keeping his voice even.
Fury showed them another text;
'YOU TWO AND ME’.
“Just my friends,” Fury grunted in pain while getting up and walking closer to them.
“Is that what we are?” Katie blinked at him. She still hadn’t completely forgiven the man for lying to them all about Coulson. 
“That’s up to you.” Fury replied, his eyes darting from Katie to Steve.
Then out of nowhere came a rapid succession of gunshots. Steve quickly pushed Katie out of the way, the pair of them taking cover behind the kitchen wall as Fury groaned before he collapsed down to the floor. Steve scooted forward, keeping as low as he could, pulling him into the kitchen. Katie knelt next to him and tried to check his injuries through his black clothing when he reached up and handed something to Steve.
“Don’t, trust anyone,” he coughed before passing out.  Katie and Steve both looked at what he had been handed and saw that it was a flash drive. Steve curled his hand around it and looked at Katie, but before either of them could say anything else there was the sound of someone breaking into the apartment. Steve quickly moved into a defensive position, in front of Katie and Fury, raising his shield.
“Captain Rogers?” a familiar voice suddenly called out and they watched as Kate, his neighbour, cautiously walked in with a gun pointed. “I’m Agent Thirteen of SHIELD’s Special Service.”
“Kate?” Steve frowned, shaking his head. He’d just about had his fill of surprises.
“I’m assigned to protect you.” She continued
“On whose orders?” Katie snapped.
Kate stopped as she spotted Fury lying on the floor. “His,” she dropped besides Katie, checking Fury for a pulse and then spoke into her radio
“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”
“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?” A SHIELD agent questioned through the radio.
Then there was a movement on the other side of the window, on the roof adjacent to the building.  Steve instantly glanced up and saw a flash of silver and the shadow of a figure running across the rooftop.
“Tell them I’m in pursuit.” He said and with that he took a running jump and smashed straight through his window, and through into the office building opposite. Steve ran, keeping his eye on the man, smashing through walls, windows, anything in his way. Eventually he caught up with him on the roof and flung his shield at the assassin who, to Steve’s shock, caught it with one swift move in the hand of his metal arm. There was a pause as Steve could do nothing but eye the man with surprise before the shield came flying back. Steve caught it, with both hands on its rim but the force pushed him back a few yards along the gravel surface of the roof. By the time he had stopped the momentum moving him, the assassin had jumped. Steve ran to the edge of the building and looked down.
He was gone.
*****
“What happened?” Hill asked as they all looked through the glass window at the hustle and bustle of the operating room. Steve moved his arm from around Katie and took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.
"He was at my apartment when we got home.” Steve started. “I hadn’t even had chance to ask why when there were two blasts, then another. Someone shot him through the window- three times. I tried to go after the shooter, but I lost him on the roof of the building across the street.”
Steve had no doubt in his mind that if there was anyone else in SHIELD they could trust right now it was Hill, but both he and Katie kept quiet. He had taken Fury’s warning of trusting nobody seriously and had told Katie as much as they had strode through the ED of the hospital. Both were aware that Hill was studying them, side on, her face stony.
“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked quietly.
“Nothing.” Katie answered for them.
Before Hill could drill either of them anymore, the door to the observation room flung open and heavy footsteps crossed the room, stopping at the other side of Katie.
“Is he gonna make it?” Natasha asked, almost inaudibly, staring through the window.
“We don’t know,” Hill mumbled.
“Tell me about the shooter,” Natasha whispered
“He’s fast and strong. And he had a metal arm,” Steve said, letting go of Katie’s hand to fold his arms across his chest and as he did, they both caught the look of recognition and slight fear on Natasha’s face reflected in the window.
“Ballistics?” She swallowed heavily.
“Three slugs. No rifling and completely untraceable,” Maria answered softly.
“Soviet made?”
“Yeah,” Maria looked at Natasha in shock. Steve turned to face her, as did Katie, but she didn’t look back. She stared straight through to the operating theatre but before Katie could ask what it was that she wasn’t saying, the operation room went into overdrive. Machines started beeping erratically, the doctors and nurses were rushing around the room and the panic was palpable even behind the glass. But they couldn’t save him.
“Time of death, 1:03 A.M.”
A few moments passed as the four of them stood completely in shock. Katie reached up to wipe a tear that had trickled down her cheek away, before Natasha turned and almost sprinted out of the room.
Steve pulled his hand out of his pocket, turning the flash drive that Nick had given him over in his hand. Nick had been killed because he knew whatever it was that was on that drive. What could possibly be so bad, so secret, so dangerous that the Director of SHIELD was deemed a threat for knowing? He glanced up at Katie who was watching him, tears in her eyes. She might have had her issues with Fury, but he was a good man and would never have wished him dead. With a sigh Steve placed the item back into his pocket and pulled her in for a hug.
******
A little later, they were all in the same room as Nick’s body. Natasha was by him, hardly having moved a muscle, almost like she was in shock. And it unnerved Katie. Nat wasn’t one to really show emotion but then again, Fury had meant a lot to her. The door opened and a doctor entered, speaking to Hill. She nodded and then walked over to Katie and Steve, coughing to clear her throat.
“They need to take him.” She said, her voice cracking slightly. Steve nodded and stepped forwards.
“Nat. Natasha…” But at that she turned away from them all and made her way quickly into the corridor of the Hospital. Katie and Steve looked at one another, before they hastily followed her.
“Why was Fury in your apartment?” Natasha span around to ask Steve. Her eyes were filled with sadness, but Katie could also see suspicion etched on her pretty features.
“I don’t know,” Steve sighed shrugging his shoulders, and before the conversation could go on further they were interrupted by Rumlow.
“Cap, they want you back at Shield,” He informed them, gently touching Katie’s shoulder. “You too Nova.”
“Alright, give us a second,” Steve nodded dismissing Rumlow, perhaps a little more harshly than he intended, as he turned back to Natasha but Rumlow was insistent
“They want you now,”
“Alright” Katie spoke firmly but calmly. Rumlow nodded and then moved back down the hallway.
“You’re a terrible liar.” Natasha shook her head at Steve with her trademark smirk that didn’t reach her eyes before she turned and left.
“What the hell is on that drive?” Katie asked Steve after a moment of silence.
“I don’t know, but it’s what Natasha was saving data to on our mission the other day.” He replied before he looked up staring very focused into a vending machine to his right, which was open as a janitor filled it up. He didn’t want to take the drive back to the Triskellion, just in case. He knew that something wasn’t quite right.
Katie caught his eye before glancing around the hallway that was mostly full of SHIELD agents, luckily they were all congregated on the other end.
“Do it.” She nodded, figuring out his intention to hide the item “I’ll distract them.”
Without another look back at him, she began to stride forwards towards Rumlow.
“Its almost four am.” she glanced at her watch. “What do they want us for Brock? We already told Sitwell what we know and I don’t work for SHIELD anymore, remember?”
Rumlow shrugged “Honestly, I don’t know Nova. I’m just under instructions to get you both back to base.”
At that point Steve reached them, but he wasn’t stopping. Taking Katie’s hand he nodded to the STRIKE leader
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Rumlow fell into step with them, fixing his earpiece. “Strike! Move it out.”
Steve drove to the Triskellion, Katie’s car flanked by the Armoured SUVs as they sped through the streets of DC. Katie dozed off for ten minutes and Steve let her sleep, lost in his own thoughts. He had expected her to be called in alongside him, especially after she had been, along with him, the last people Fury had spoken to him before he died. But he wasn’t happy about it, he wanted her as far away from whatever the hell was going on as possible. Once they arrived he gently shook her awake and the two of them were given an hour or so to grab something to eat. Neither were hungry, but they forced down their sandwiches, Katie’s brain working in overdrive as she did so. Something was nagging at her, and she was trying to make the connections, figure it out, but her head simply kept replaying Fury getting shot over and over.
“Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”
“Do you have a twenty on the shooter?”
She frowned.
“What is?” Steve asked, coffee in his hand as he sat back on one of the large chairs in one of the common rooms by the kitchen area.
“Before…when Kate…Agent thirteen, whatever the hell her name is called back to base…she said Fury was down and needed EMTs…”
She paused and Steve waited, knowing how her analytical brain worked. She had to follow threads, talk them over or write them out, letting them weave together as she did. A look of comprehension crossed her face as the threads connected.
“Sitwell…” She whispered.
“What about him?” Steve asked. “He was the one that replied, at least it sounded like him.” She bit her lip, but not in the seductive way that made his crotch twitch, the way she did when she was thinking “And he asked…do you have a twenty on the shooter.”
Steve frowned, not quite sure where this was going. “Okay…”  “Well, how did he know Fury had been shot? How could anyone know he had been shot?”
Now he understood. He understood completely. Damned it she was clever. “They couldn’t.” He sat up and leaned towards her, his voice dropping. “Not unless they were there or Kate…whoever, told them.”
“And she didn’t. She just said he was down and unresponsive.” “Which means…” Steve began, but Katie finished for him. “Sitwell knew about the hit. Because he was in on it.”
The both looked at one another, their faces wearing similar looks of shock. Fury was right, SHIELD was compromised. But how far, they had no idea.
Before Steve had chance to say anything else, the door opened and Rumlow stepped in
“Secretary Pierce is ready now guys.” “Thanks.” Katie nodded, shooting Steve another glance as they both stood up.
“Not a word.” He mumbled as they got into the elevator “We say nothing, not until we figure out who we can trust.”
“If we can trust anyone.” She mumbled back.
*****
“Captain, why was Nick in your apartment last night?” Secretary Pierce looked at Steve as he sat on the couch next to Katie in the large office.
“I don’t know.” He answered in a soft voice.
“Did you know it was bugged?” Pierce pressed on.
“We did.” Katie nodded meeting the secretary’s eye. “Because Nick told us.”
“Did he tell you he was the one who bugged it?”
Steve took a breath and glanced at Katie, his expression stony but the two of them shared the understanding.
No, no he had not.
“I want you to see something.” Pierce continued, and gestured to a monitor just behind the couches we were sitting on. On the screen was a man tied down to a chair, he looked to be currently being interrogated. Katie didn’t recognise the man, but Steve did.  It was Batroc, the lead merc from the hijacking of the Lemurian Star.
“Is that live?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, they picked him up last night in a not so safe house in Algiers.”
“Are you saying he’s a suspect?” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the screen “Assassination isn’t Batroc’s line.”
“It’s more complicated than that. Batroc was hired anonymously to hijack the Lemurian Star. He was contacted by email and paid by wire transfer, and then the money was run through seventeen fictitious accounts. The last going to a holding company that was registered to a Jacob Veech.” Pierce said handing Steve a folder.
“Am I supposed to know who that is?” Steve skimmed through the file offered to him in curiosity and confusion.
“Not likely. Veech died six years ago. His last address was 1435 Elmhurst Drive. When I first met Nick, his mother lived at 1437.”
“Wait,” Katie frowned as she gathered what Pierce was suggesting. “Are you saying Fury hired the pirates? Why?”
“The prevailing theory?” Pierce shrugged. “The hijacking was a cover for the acquisition and sale of classified intelligence. The sale went sour and that led to Nick’s death.”
“If you really knew Nick Fury you’d know that’s not true.” Steve replied strongly, and he believed it. Fury was a lot of things, but a traitor he was not.
Pierce nodded in agreement. “Why do you think we’re here talking?” He then got to his feet and began to walk towards the window. “See, I took a seat on the council not because I wanted to, but because Nick asked me to because we were both realists. We knew that despite all the diplomacy, and the hand shaking and the rhetoric, to build a really better world sometimes means having to tear the old one down. And that makes enemies.”
Steve didn’t like the way this was going. He looked at Katie and gestured for her to stand as he did. Pierce turned back around and looked at them both.
“Those people that call you dirty because you’ve got the guts to stick your hands in the mud and try to build something better. And the idea that those people could be happy today,” Pierce shoved his hands in his pockets. “Makes me really, really angry. Captain, you and Miss Stark were the last ones to see Nick Fury alive. I don’t think that’s an accident.” Pierce said matter-of-factly. “And I don’t think you do, either. So, I’m going to ask again was he there?”
“He told us not to trust anyone.” Steve said honestly.
Pierce made a humming sound. “I wonder, if that included him.”
There was a tense moment of silence before Steve spoke again. “I’m sorry. Those were his last words. Excuse us,” He turned to leave, picking up his shield that he sent down upon our arrival and attaching it to the harness on his back, before ushering Katie out of the room slightly ahead of him.
“Captain,” Pierce’s voice halted him mid step and he turned to look at him. “Someone murdered my friend. I’m going to find out why. Anyone who gets in my way is going to regret it.” Pierce’s voice rang out again, a pointed look in their direction.
Steve wasn’t a stupid man, and he knew that was a veiled threat. He took a deep breath, considering his response, before he decided appearing un-rattled was the best option.
“Understood.” He nodded, holding the door open for Katie to step through keeping himself between her and Pierce as he followed, anchoring his hand on her back to keep her moving.
“You should have lied.” She whispered.
“Huh?” “Back then, said we didn’t know why Fury was there. By telling him that he told us not to trust anyone he knows we know and that we’re hiding something.” Her tone was a little panicked and Steve simply took a deep breath.
“We need to get to the hospital and get that stick.” He looked at her, remaining  adamant that whatever it was that was on there would hold the answers. He looked up and down the corridor before they stepped into the elevator.
“Operations Control” Steve spoke as the elevator scanned his face and Katie’s Guest ID.
“Confirmed”
Just as the doors were about to close, Rumlow stepped in with two other STRIKE agents.
“Keep all STRIKE personnel on site” He was saying.  Both the agents nodded and voiced their acknowledgement of his order. “Forensics.” 
“Confirmed.”
“Cap, Nova…” Rumlow nodded to them both.
“Rumlow.” Steve acknowledged him as the doors closed and they started to descend.
“Evidence Response found some fibres on the roof they want us to see.” Rumlow turned his head to look at Steve. “You want me to get the tac-team ready?”
“No, let’s wait and see what it is first.”
“Right.” Rumlow turned back and Steve looked out of the side of the elevator, pondering what his next move was. Chase down the man responsible? The drive? The elevator stopped at the next floor and Rollins plus a few more SHIELD and Strike agents entered, Steve moving over slightly to allow them in.
“What’s the status so far?” Rollins was saying.
“Administrations level” another one asked, before they continued whatever it was they were talking about, moving round to find a space behind Steve and Katie.
He noticed Katie look round, a frown on her face, but before he could say anything Rumlow spoke, looking over his shoulder at Steve.
“I’m sorry about what happened with Fury. Messed up, what happened to him”
“Thank you.” Steve nodded.
Katie could sense something was off. Years of training as an Agent didn’t just leave you when you quit, and those years of training had taught her very well to read body language. Rumlow was alert, too alert, and it was more than just a nervousness because Fury had been killed. There was an atmosphere in the lift, and she glanced at one of the agents that had joined them at the last floor. He was still talking, normally, but he there was a bead of sweat dripping down his cheek from his temple.
Steve could sense it too. He watched as Rumlow and Rollins exchanged a glance and looked down at Katie who was watching him, nervous expression on her face. He shook his head gently, instructing her to keep calm.
The elevator stopped and another agent entered.
“Records”
This one stood in front of them, facing the elevator doors and it was then with a slight air of exasperation at allowing it to happen, Steve realised they were surrounded. Whilst he wasn’t too concerned, he knew he could more than likely fight his way out, it was his girl he was bothered for. It had been months since she had been in active combat, and this was going to be brutal. Besides him Katie stiffened, feeling very underprepared for what was about to go down. She had no weapons, nothing. Instinctively Steve gripped her hand and pulled her forward so she was stood next to him instead of behind and moved his feet apart slightly, hands on the buckle of his belt, adopting his Captain stance, preparing for what was coming.
“Before we get started,” he sighed, looking down before he stared straight ahead, “does anyone want to get out?”
His eyes flicked to the back of Rumlow’s head. There was a moment’s pause before all hell broke loose. They both put up a good fight, ducking, diving, punching. Steve was then shocked with a baton, but he simply grit his teeth, absorbing the electricity into his body. It hurt, but it wasn’t unbearable. And then, three of them managed to snap one of his arms to the wall of the elevator using some kind of metallic clamp, before five of them piled on him at once, attempting to pin his other arm in too. He kicked out, taking down as many as he could.
Just as Katie had floored the second of the agents who had launched at her, she was grabbed from behind by her hair and hauled to the edge of the elevator, being wrestled roughly to the floor by Rumlow who was instantly on top of her, trying to get her wrists from where she had positioned them underneath her body in an attempt to stop them restraining her.
"Brock…” She spoke gently, looking at him as she swallowed. “What’s going on?” “I’m sorry Stark.” He shook his head. “Just following orders.”
“Yeah well follow this.”  She snarled, the anger brewing in her as she jerked her head forwards as hard as she could, feeling it connect with his nose.  He yelled, and then her head snapped painfully to the right as he back handed her straight across the face. She felt her lip split and the warm, metallic taste of blood hit her taste buds, stars flashing in front of her eyes as her ears began to ring from the harsh knock.
Steve saw Rumlow land the blow to Katie’s face and let out a growl of anger and aimed another kick at the final agent standing, causing them man to collide with the side of the elevator before slumping down. He turned, pulled on his arm as hard as he could, wrenching the cuff off the side of the elevator and looked up in time to see Katie, who was now pinned against the wall by another set of those damned cuffs, take a blow to the ribs from Rumlow causing her to cry out in pain.
“Rumlow!” Steve yelled causing the man to whip his head round, surprise on his face. Katie, using her arms as leverage, swung her legs upwards, kicking Rumlow with both feet. The STRIKE leader stumbled slightly as Steve snarled at him, his entire body and face alight with rage “Touch my girl again and I’ll fucking kill you.”
Rumlow got to his feet, holding one of his arms out, electric rod in his hand “Whoa, big guy. I just want you both to know, this ain’t personal.”
He then lunged at Steve with his electric rod but one on one Steve was easily able to defend himself, he moved to the right, dodged and grabbed Rumlow, throwing him harshly upwards where he crashed into the ceiling of the elevator, before falling to the floor, unconscious.
“Yeah well, it kind of feels personal” Steve said, his breath slightly ragged from the exertion. He used his foot to flip his shield over like a Frisbee, catching it perfectly.
“You alright?” Steve asked, stepping over the bodies that littered the floor of the elevator to get to Katie.
“Yeah.” She assured him. Steve cut the cuffs that were restraining her into two pieces with his shield and she bent over, his hands gently on her back as she rubbed at her side before straightening up and stalking over to where Rumlow was beginning to stir slightly. She kicked him hard in the face, causing him to flip backwards and he was out, unconscious.
“Nothing personal.” She spat, then looked up at Steve. There was a moment during which they both looked around, trying to make sense of what had happened, before the elevator doors opened and Steve pulled Katie sharply behind him. They both stared at a team of STRIKE agents pointing their weapons into the elevator. Steve raised his shield.
“Drop the shield! Put your hands in the air!”
Steve looked round, and spotted the elevator wires to the left of Katie’s head
“DUCK!” he yelled at her, and as she did, he swiped with his shield over her head sending them plummeting. Eventually the emergency brake systems kicked in and the elevator stopped, slightly misaligned with the doors by a few feet. As Katie bent down to retrieve a gun and some ammo off one of the Agents, Steve forced the door open, intending to climb out but more STRIKE agents were approaching. He closed the door again and looked at Katie, then around the glass walls, looking down below us at the glass roof of the main Triskelion atrium.
It was a long way but they could make it.
“You’re fucking kidding, right?” Katie exclaimed, realising exactly what he was thinking.
“Give it up, Rogers! Get that door open! You have nowhere to go!” came the yell from the floor outside the elevator door.
“Do you trust me?” Steve asked, both his hands cupping Katie’s face.
“Of course I do, but…”
“Then hang on…”
She sighed and jumped onto his back, swinging her legs round his waist and her arms round his neck. Steve raised his shield in front of him, before he propelled them forward and broke through the glass in the elevator, spreading his arms out wide as he fell to prevent them from tumbling through the air before tucking his body as tightly in to his shield as he could. Katie did the same, burying her head into his back as they crashed through the glass ceiling and hit the floor with a loud clang, to screams and shouts from people all around the atrium.
Katie gave a soft groan, rolling off Steve who moaned and stretched out, having been winded from the impact. But Steve knew they had to keep moving. With a monumental effort, he pushed himself up onto his knees, took a deep breath and offered his hand to Katie to help her stand. They both took a quick glance around before he started to run, pulling her with him. She stumbled slightly, but Steve kept hold of her, not letting her fall until her legs seemed to be working again.
And then they ran.
**** Chapter 15
**Original Posting**
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rachelbethhines · 4 years
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Tangled Salt Marathon - Happiness Is
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This is possibly my favorite episode of season two. Yet, it is also the point the where the series starts to fall off a cliff. Only that’s not something that you would realize upon a first watch; just in hindsight and only with some basic knowledge of the behind the scenes drama that led to this and the fall out with the fandom that followed afterwards. 
Summary:  Rapunzel begins to feel homesick for Corona when she finds an old letter written by her father in one of the many lanterns sent from her previous birthdays. In attempts to uplift her spirits, Rapunzel explores the island and comes across a magical idol that brings instant happiness to whomever possesses it. Rapunzel begins to hallucinate her family and friends back in Corona and soon shares the idol with the rest of the group. However, everyone starts to become obsessive over the idol, desperately wanting it for themselves. Rapunzel tricks everyone into giving her the idol, but when the Lorbs try to help Rapunzel, they fall under the idol's control and soon begin to terrorize the village.
Let’s Start with the First Elephant in the Room; Frederic 
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So throughout the episode Rapunzel is struggling with being homesick. Which is fair enough, that’s an understable reaction to being on the road for months by now. However, to showcase this Rapunzel keeps seeing hallucinations of her father. There are some other characters too, but her dad is the first person she sees and the only one in Corona with speaking lines. He’s the one to tempt her with the idol. 
Did we just forget that Frederic is her abuser? 
Look, even if you accept his apology in Secret of the Sundrop and believe he has learned his lesson, that doesn’t just erase the pain he caused her. Her thoughts about her father should be more realistically complex then this. Now add in how she makes a such a clean break from her other abuser, Gothel, but still holds him on a pedestal shows a disturbing bias on the part of the writers. 
Also where’s this love for Arianna? You know the only real mother on the show? The show that’s aimed at little girls? The one parent who hasn’t flat out abused the main character yet? 
Seriously, Chris, what the fuck? 
This is a Missed Opportunity 
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So part of the reason why I like this episode is that we get insights into each of the characters and their desires. As such this is one of the few episodes where the group actual feels like a group friends. However, Cass’s vision is wasted here. 
So at first glance this seems to aline with what we know of the character thus far. She loves her dad and wishes to impress him. That’s only if you take season one into account, though. Later episodes will contradict this goal. If you wanted to set up praise and validation in general as Cassandra’s motives, then here is where that should have happened. 
Show her getting a medal, have cheering crowds surround her, have her be a hero, or something. You can’t claim her relationship with her parents as the driving force of behind her later actions if you don’t actually involve one of those parents as part of the resolution to her arc. 
Either she lacking attention from her dad or she’s jealous of Rapunzel. You can’t have it be both because those two things don’t intersect. Rapunzel is not and never was a threat to her relationship with her father. 
So Umm...I Don’t Think This Plot Point Has the Impact That the Writers Think It Does 
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So this hilarious, and it is intended to be funny, but it’s not for the reasons that the show gives. 
The idea is that this is some shocking revelation. That Rapunzel would never do this under normal circumstances and it’s a hint that the idol is corrupting her. 
Only the rest of the series doesn’t aline with that at all. This is just the real Rapunzel behaving as the she normally would but without the usual veneer of excuses. 
It’s funny because it’s the show calling out Rapunzel hypocrisy for what it is plainly, not because it’s out of character. 
But funny only gets you so far. The show is perfectly happy to play up Rapunzel’s awfulness for laughs, but then conventily ignore it when it comes time for the characters themselves to call her out on it so that she can grow and learn.       
The show runs under the sitcom idea that comedy excuses all sins; which then backfires horribly when it tries to be serious and mature. 
You can’t joke that the king threw a random person in a stockade for little reason and then expect us to still like him when he persecutes a child. Same applies here. 
The sitcom set up only works when there is minimal at stake and all parties involved are equally awful in their own ways. 
Then Why Not Just Go Home?
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Once again, there’s nothing at stake in season two. Rapunzel has no real reason to be on this trip. Nothing is stopping her from just going home if that’s what she wants. The idol only makes her happy because it shows her want she wants, but she could actually have what she wants as soon as the next ship arrives. So what’s the issue here? 
This is why you need external conflict in order to make internal conflicts work. There’s has to be something preventing the main character from achieving her goal or otherwise she just comes across as a dumbass. 
And Now Here Comes the Second Elephant; Varian 
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I have several things to talk about here, and none of them actually concern the scene itself but the creator’s treatment of the character and the show’s fan base.
For you see, Chris did a very, very stupid thing.  
He wrote the character driving the plot out of the show. The character who also happens to be the most popular person in the series. Only to then use said character’s VA and this one cameo as promotion for this whole season. 
Needless to say, fans were disappointed.   
However, the Tangled fandom is exceedingly polite; more so than most. The lack of Varian was met mostly with confusion, and maybe a few off handed jokes, rather than anger. When opportunity arose people naturally had questions concerning the character.     
And that’s when Chris put his foot in mouth. 
This Tumblr post details how Chris got kicked off the Tangled The Series Discord by bullying a bunch of Varian fans while on there. 
https://starxapple.tumblr.com/post/617852117763391488/zhantiri-uuugh-fine-since-people-are-getting
I shan’t get into it fully, but for those who discovered the show after season two had aired, this caused a massive backlash from the fandom. 
A good chunk of the fandom just walked away, and rightly so. The few that stuck around despite these remarks found themselves harassed by certain sections of the fandom who saw Chris’s bullying as permission to pursue the same behavior. However, most importantly, the ratings plummeted. 
Season one hovered around the the 1 million mark, give or take a five point difference. The first part of season two dropped to half of that, and after this episode and the hiatus it sunk even lower, down to the mid-thirties. That’s over 20,000 people who just jumped ship over this. That’s not a normal decline. 
No matter what your personal feelings are of the character of Varian or how he was handled in the show, that’s still a massive PR fassico that cost the series big time. 
To add to this mountain of bullshit, there was also a massive walk out of crew members after season one had finished production. Most of them women. They even desperately threw out ‘we’re hiring’ calls to cover this. Which given that’s it’s Disney and that nepotism is usually how one gains employment in the entertainment industry, something unusual must have happened behind the scenes. Especially if most of the people who left were women. 
We’ll probably never know what really happened. People don't usually talk about behind the scenes stuff like that due to contracts and the aforementioned nepotism. However, all clues point to Varian.   
Something changed at the last minute concerning his story. Chris himself had confirmed as much when discussing the note and the Brotherhood. We also gotten other hints that content was edited out at the last minute. Plus the writing becomes more shoddy as the series goes along, showing how slapped dashed everything is together.  
Then there’s the rumors. 
I must stress to you that this is only a rumor. As pointed out earlier, most animators aren’t in a position to talk freely about what goes on behind the scenes. Do NOT harass them over it or make things awkward by asking them to clarify this. However it’s been suggested that the female crew warned Chris that removing Varian from season two and re-writing his story, along with making Cass the villain, would be a bad idea before they left and Chris didn’t listen. Much to his folly. 
Chris is no longer a Disney employee and has yet to move on to any other projects. He says he left, but I more suspect that Disney just didn't renew his contract and no one has picked him up since. I take no joy in the idea that someone may have lost their job, but if true, then Chris has little to blame but himself. 
So What Did Change?
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We don't know anything for sure. We know from discussions about the note that there was a proposed Brotherhood plot that involved Varian that was then cut. There was also talks about a Cass and Varian team up in season three. 
This was then changed to the Saporian take over, which is foreshadowed in this scene. However even that got edited down and under the flimsiest of excuses. 
One of the writers, Ricky, suggested that they thought cutting back to Corona would be too confusing for the audience; which is a load of bull. I mean how poorly do you think of your audience’s comprehension skills that they wouldn’t understand a change of scene or a flashback? Yet you fully expect them to pick up on your lazy foreshadowing involving the mirror? So much so that you sent them on a quest to find it between seasons two and three.
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Then there’s this gem from Chris. 
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Ok ignoring the fact that you so totally could have featured both Gothel and Varian, seeing as they serve two different functions in the story and mean different things to Rapunzel.... What guilt?!!! 
Rapunzel doesn’t ever act guilty over anything involving her treatment of Varian. 
That’s when you realize Chris isn’t talking about her feeling guilty about Varian’s predicament. He’s saying that Rapunzel feels guilty of leaving her father behind with this ‘dangerous’ criminal. Which is a big fuck you to everyone. 
That’s why Frederic is the center focus of Rapunzel’s hallucinations. Why she’s more concerned for his safety over Varian’s trauma. Chris really be out here trying to use the abused 14/15 year old orphan as a scapegoat for the grown ass dictator who ruined countless lives. Because he thinks a grown woman should feel guilty for leaving her abusive father behind and pursuing her life’s dream.
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Dude, I try not to assume the worst of people just cause they write fictional characters that I dislike, but Chris really makes things hard not to when he treats his self insert this way. 
Oh but we’re not done yet. 
When Varian Fans Complain About the Lack of Varian; We’re Complaining About the Lack of a Coherent Plot. 
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Certain sections of the fandom, bolstered by Chris’s BS, try to act like simply being a Varian fan is grounds for dismissal of any criticism of the show and it’s writing. As if having personal preference for something makes you automatically ‘entitled’ or some such bull. Yet doing so ignores the fundamental complaint that they are making. 
We’re not whining about our favorite character not getting enough screen time. No one would have complained about his lack of presence in season two if they had properly resolved his story in season three and had Chris not been a dick to the fans. But it becomes evidently clear as the series goes along that removing Varian left a major hole in the plot. One that makes the entire story and the rest of characters suffer as well. 
Think season two is boring? That’s cause they cut out their main villain at the last minute and failed to replace him with anything. 
Upset that Hookfoot was brought along for zero reason?  He’s the replacement character for Varian who no doubt was going to appear in season two originally. 
Wish there was more on the Brotherhood and the Dark Kingdom?  Their story impact was greatly reduced when Varian was written out.
Are you a Eugene fan and mad about how the Dark Prince plot went nowhere?  That’s cause the original Brotherhood/Dark Kingdom plot was dropped when Varian was.
Dislike how Cassandra’s character was ruined with her villain arc?  She was originally meant to be possessed but was changed last minute to be a Varian rip-off in the hopes that she would gain some of his popularity.   
Wish Zhan Tiri, Demantius, and the Disciples actually went somewhere and that ZT had coherent plan?   That plot were changed last minute to make Zhan Tiri a scapegoat for Cassandra now that her story was changed to replace Varian.
And of course let’s not ignore the character who suffers the most from lack of Varian.... Rapunzel. 
Chris’s defense for leaving Varian out of S2 is that it’s “Rapunzel’s Story” and that Varian was only ever a plot device meant to push her along on her quest.  Which means that Rapunzel no longer has anyone pushing her along on her quest!!!
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All characters are plot devices. If they aren’t there to serve a story function then they need to be cut. Even Rapunzel herself serves a plot function. She’s meant to be the protagonist of a coming of age story. Which means she needs both an external conflict to face and an emotional arc where she grows as a person. Varian is the plot device that serves both of those functions but he’s now been removed and is no longer allowed to serve his original purpose. 
Chris reached into the machine while it was running and pulled out one of the main gears and acted like he always meant to do that. He legit sat there and pretended that everything was running smoothly even as smoke poured out and warring alarms blared. He then tried to shove bubble gum in its place hoping no one would notice as everything fell apart around him. 
Cause he’s the thing; no idea is without merit. It’s all about presentation. Removing Varian from season three still could have worked, but it required A.) replacing him with another foe and B.) making sure his arc still got a proper conclusion. 
I’ll talk more about Varian’s half-arsed redemption when we get to it; but for now let's focus on the more immediate problem. No one thought to give season two an actual overarching conflict in light of Varian’s absence. 
That’s a fundamental oversight that pretty much signals that season two was re-written at the last minute. You have an overarching plot in an action adventure show but no main adversary? I refuse to believe that everyone involved was too stupid to do that on purpose; but if they were rushed and lacked a crew because they walked out due to last minute story changes....yeah that’d I buy. 
Because there’s more than enough options to go around; Lady Caine, The Baron and Styalan, Hector and/or Adria, Zhan Tiri’s Disciples ect. were all options. So was keeping the rocks a threat, or have Cass start her villian arc earlier; with proper motivation this time. They could have even come up with someone entirely new. 
You had over four years to plan this shit out; why is it not more well put together?! 
How Come Rapunzel Can Easily Admit Fault to Pascal But Not Anyone Else? 
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Pascal should have sat perched on Varian’s and Eugene’s shoulders giving Rapunzel ‘I’m done with this’ looks all throughout season three. It’s apparently the only thing that she responds to. 
Why is the untalkative camelanion the only one allowed to call out the main character’s BS without going villain? 
Conclusion
That’s all there really is to talk about in this story. The actual episode itself is good. It’s the behind the scenes crap that bubbles underneath its surface that needed to be discussed. That way when going forward with the marathon you’ll better see what I’m talking about when I explain how future episode suffered from the lack of planning and foresight. 
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tobesobri · 4 years
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𝒯his chapter has one of the most important scenes to me at the very end of it. It’s not very elaborate, and may not seem like much to most of you, but I felt like I was truly pouring myself into this story at that point and it was really sort of like therapeutic to write and then chapter five was even more so. But, anyways, thank you so much if you choose to read and an extra special thank you if you’ve messaged me sharing your thoughts, I truly appreciate it ❤️ 
huge massive thank you to the incredible @youresogolden-h for editing ❤️
CHAPTER FOUR: EARLY MORNING LIGHT (4.8K)
Harry and Y/N are friends…. with benefits, but not the kinds you’re thinking of.
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Even before he was fully conscious, he knew she was still there. And not entirely because he could feel her arm wrapped firmly around his chest or her leg overlapping his, but because he didn’t feel that same burning pain in his chest he had the previous morning when he woke and she was gone. 
He would have stayed like that for as long as he could too, if his bladder didn’t have anything to do with it. 
Instead of leaving her in his empty bed, as he squeezed himself away from her, he replaced his body with one of his larger pillows. She stirred beside him, letting out the cutest little irritated groan that made him instantly fall in love with her. Once she seemed to go back to sleep, however, he made calculated movements until he was safely out of bed. 
His brain was a little less foggy by the time he stepped foot onto the cold tile in the bathroom. Eyes still stinging from exhaustion, however, he dragged his body to the toilet. He could still taste the bitterness of alcohol on the back of his tongue and he seemingly peed long enough to get it all out of his system.
When he reached the sink to wash his hands is when he paused. He’d been on autopilot the entire time, barely opening his eyes when it wasn’t necessary to do so. But, when he spotted her things laid out neatly on the vanity counter around the sink he didn’t use, it woke him right up. 
His eyes wandered from her Colgate toothbrush to her bottle of Neutrogena face wash and make-up remover wipes while he washed his hands. And, as much as he tried to fight it after he dried himself off on one of his towels, he just couldn’t be stopped from picking up her small, travel-sized perfume bottle. Immediately upon undoing the cap and bringing the atomizer up to his nose, he was sent right back to last night. To all the times he’d been at all close enough to her to smell this exact scent on her skin. And while it was much more potent coming straight from the bottle, he liked it better on her. 
Shaking his head clear and deciding he was being intrusive, he closed the cap of the little pink bottle and set it back down where he found it. He had to admit, he liked seeing her things on his counter the way they currently were. Like they belonged there. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why he liked it so much, but he just knew it gave him a warm, home-like fuzzy feeling. He couldn’t shake it off, even when he’d ventured back into his bedroom and found her in the same position he’d left her in.
Walking over to his bedside table, he checked the time on his phone and realized it was a lot later than he had originally thought. Not that eight o’clock was late, but he assumed it had been earlier with how fatigued he felt. He blamed it on the alcohol.
And then he was tasked with the horrible decision to wake Y/N or to let her sleep. But, he desperately needed coffee, didn’t currently own anything besides the Keurig to make it himself, and didn’t want to leave her to wake up alone in his big empty house. 
So after a quick moment of watching her sleep and trying to find any justification not to disrupt her, he came up short and reached over to gently touch her shoulder until her eyes blinked open and up to him.
The brief confusion was very much apparent and seeing her like that made him completely forget why he was waking her up in the first place. There was a soft tug between her brows like she was ready to yell at him for disturbing her and her lips pouted as if begging him to just leave her the fuck alone. But, once she came to her senses, her features softened and he came to his own senses as well.
“I’m, uh, going to pick up some coffee, do you want anything?” He spoke softly, knowing just how irritated he’d be if someone was yelling in his face first thing in the morning. Not to mention, there was a pretty good chance she, too, had a massive migraine comparable to his own, and he had no intentions of making it worse for either of them.
She simply shook her head and rested it back down onto the pillow he’d shoved into her arms earlier as if she didn’t even need him at all to cuddle up to. With a slight giggle, the second she closed her eyes to go back to sleep, he backed away from her and went about his business getting ready to go outside.
And if you’re Harry Styles, you can’t go out in a shirt with unintentional holes in it and matching ones in your baggy grey sweatpants. He wasn’t sure why he still wore them, given his massive closet and ability to purchase new sleepwear, but they made him the most comfortable and felt familiar after long days; so he held onto them. And Y/N didn’t even seem to care, so neither did he.
But going out in them was a different story, so instead of becoming a news headline for bad fashion choices, he got himself together in his closet. He was too focused on his usual routine to realize Y/N was still right behind him as he slipped out of his sleep clothes and put clean ones on. And when he did remember she was there, after already tugging on some light washed blue jeans and with a white tee shirt in hand to throw on top, he twisted his head around to her. She hadn’t even moved an inch and he wasn’t sure if he cared that she saw him in his boxer-briefs. It’s not like she couldn’t search for him in his underwear on Google Images if she really wanted to. 
He wasn’t sure if anyone would even notice him while he was out, but in case they did, he needed to be prepared. So, once he was dressed, he was back in the bathroom to brush his teeth and make himself smell a lot better than he currently did. He left Y/N’s stuff alone this time even though he was still completely obsessed with it sitting on his counter, and found himself daydreaming about the day she just left things over at his house full time. 
Hell, he’d let her leave whatever she wanted right then and there if she needed to. He had the room and he liked the little reminders of someone besides himself being in his space. 
Right when he was about to leave his room, securing his watch on his wrist as he headed toward the door, he heard her mumble from the bed, which made him stop.
“I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” 
He knew she was smirking at him before he even turned to look at her just because of the familiar tone of her voice whenever she teased him about something. He never would have considered anything about her voice familiar at all just a few weeks ago, so he didn’t really care that she had clearly seen him putting his clothes on.
“I didn’t know you were a perv.” He shot back.
She smiled and squished her face into his pillow to hide it and he fell a little bit more in love. 
He really needed that coffee.
“Can you get me a hot chocolate… I’ll pay you back.” She shut her eyes again and he was too lost in how much she resembled the cutest little puppy to even say a word about her not needing to pay him back the four dollars that, quite literally, wouldn’t even make the tiniest of dents in his bank account. 
“Do you want whipped cream?”
“No,” she scrunched up her face in disgust and he tried his hardest to stop the massive smile from spreading across his face, but he just loved finding out new things about her way too much. That, and the fact that if he was bringing her something, it was sort of like insurance that she wouldn’t leave while he was out. 
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She didn’t take off like he’d feared, but she was already out of bed and put together by the time Harry got back. When he walked through the front door, he half expected her to be sitting in his living room, waiting to get her hot chocolate, pay him the $4.50, and then leave. But, to his surprise, that wasn’t the case.
She had set her packed bag on the end of his bed and pulled one of his small armchairs out from the corner of the room to the center of it so she could sit and stare at the entire view head on. This time, though, it was an early morning view where people were going to work rather than coming home from it. 
By some miracle she’d figured out how to open the curtains, it had just taken her fifteen minutes to do so. And then once she found the right button, on the right remote control sitting on Harry’s nightstand, she played around with opening and closing them because it was just too fascinating and she was just a little bit easily entertained. 
But once the newness of it wore off, she left them open and switched between checking her phone and just staring out the window, like she had been put under some kind of mesmerizing spell. 
Harry found her in that exact position, sitting in one of his mis-matched floral printed armchairs, staring out over Los Angeles like she owned it. Like she was sitting on her throne as the queen of the city. It endeared him to no end because it was just little things like that and like not wanting whipped cream on her hot chocolate and organizing her things on his counter as neatly as possible that said the most about her. He started to wonder if she’d always been like that and he just never took the time to fully pay attention.
Walking up to her, he handed over her drink that had been warming his cold hands because it was that time of year in southern California where it was freezing in the mornings, but boiling by afternoon. 
She took it from him, her eyes following the path up his arm to his shoulder and then finally to his face just to find him staring out the windows like she had been. But once he felt her staring, he glanced down at her just in time to find her trying to shove a five dollar bill into his hand.
He immediately pulled away. “It’s fine, you don’t need to pay me back.”
“But I feel bad.”
He rolled his eyes, not sure if she would hate him for coming right out with the fact that he had millions of dollars and that her five didn’t make a single difference. He knew he would hate himself more if he took money from her.
Sighing, he sat down on the end of the bed beside her chair, blowing on his own hot cup of Starbucks before taking a sip and realizing it still hadn't cooled down enough. The caffeine, however, was well worth the first degree burns. 
“I think maybe we should talk… ‘bout all of this.” He changed the subject, watching as she forgot about the five dollars, tucked it back into her pocket and avoided looking at him again.
Because she had no clue what he wanted to talk about. Was he going to put an end to it? Did she go too far last night? Should she have not said anything about seeing him changing his clothes? Did she snore or talk in her sleep and he had enough of it?
She hid her worries around her cardboard cup, holding onto it tightly with both hands and trying not to let him see the disappointment in her face.
“I mean, um,” he sat forward a little, realizing what he said had a bit of a sour connotation and the cold shoulder she was giving him was well-deserved. “Like, is this going to be a thing every night? And if it is, you can leave some stuff here if you want. Unless you’d rather sleep at your place, but I don’t think Will is that stupid…”
His rambling quickly turned her spirits around because he wasn’t actually telling her to piss off. He hadn’t come to the conclusion that she was using him like she feared. As much as he’d made it clear everything was mutual, she still couldn’t help but think she needed him more than he needed her. 
She was positive he could get anyone else he wanted to cuddle up to at night, so she had no clue why Harry was going along with their arrangement. And after learning about his past relationships she couldn’t help but wonder if she was doing the same thing to him.
“Do, um, you want it to be a thing every night?” She wasn’t entirely sure where the courage to ask him that had come from, but she regretted it when he took a couple seconds too long to answer.
Eventually he did, though, after a moment of looking out the windows just to find a way to tell her that didn’t sound weird. He already knew the answer to the question, he just wasn’t sure if she felt the same way at all. But in the end, he swallowed his anxieties and owned up to how he really felt. 
“Yes.”
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Saturday afternoon was spent doing nothing but thinking of when she’d see Harry again. The plans for the night were already set when she’d come home to find Will on FaceTime with Harry, discussing him coming over to work on the album again. As per her eavesdropping, while she pretended to be busy cooking herself a late breakfast, she learned his second album was still in very early stages. He had no concept for it yet, only half a song was written and he hadn’t even booked studio time because he didn’t want to go in with nothing, just to waste everyone’s time. 
It was, to say the least, strange to see the dissonance between how Harry had been with her and how he was on the phone with Will where they only discussed work matters. She couldn’t even remember when he’d last brought his album up to her, or if he ever had. So it made her wonder if he ever talked to Will about the things he’d said to her. Did he tell Will how lonely he was because he couldn’t trust anyone anymore? Or how long it had been since he’d last been close to someone? 
Or were those details he only told her?
Once she had her food on her plate, ready to disappear into her bedroom, Will walked into the kitchen with Harry in his hand and it made her tense up in a way she never had around Harry. Maybe it was the fact that she knew what she looked like on camera and she hated it, and hated the idea of Harry seeing her like that. Or maybe it was because she and Harry had this secret that Will knew absolutely nothing about and she almost couldn’t find it in herself to interact with Harry in any way she used to a couple weeks prior. She knew way too much about him now and pretending otherwise in front of Will would nearly break her heart.
“Is it alright if he comes over?” Will asked, and she glanced down to the screen of his phone, finding Harry in a grey hoodie and his hair in a bit of a floofy mess. It was how he looked when he woke up in the morning, so with that and with his completely blank stare, it comforted her because his face was an exact parallel to her current inner struggle. Trying to remember how little they used to talk, because it felt like years ago now, and act accordingly as to not set off any alarms for Will. 
After a moment, she shrugged and looked to Will again, grabbing her plate and moving herself out of view, leaving him with that simple gesture as her only answer. He was used to her ways of communication, though, and didn’t expect anything less. 
As she headed towards the hallway, she heard Will giggle before speaking to Harry again. “I think that means she’s fine with it.”
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Harry and Will sat across from each other at the dining table when Y/N made her first retreat from her bedroom, having spent the entire time since Harry had arrived hiding and trying to come up with any excuse to see him. 
But, when she did make an appearance, Harry was already lost to the stress of song-making that he barely even noticed her. He and Will had been going back and forth on a song for the past hour, a migraine settling itself in both of their frontal lobes by that point. Harry hated everything he was coming up with and didn’t like anything Will had to offer either. 
He’d never experienced a writer’s block this shitty, but he was already over it. He even went to a whole other country to try and combat it, but that didn’t seem to do the trick either.
They’d made little progress on the song Harry was currently working on by the time he finally noticed her. She shut their mug cabinet a little too hard and both him and Will turned their heads toward the noise. Harry, however, stared a little longer, as he watched her make her hot chocolate, letting it take him back to this morning when he didn’t feel a stitch of stress about his music. When he could’ve fallen in love with the way she looked at him from his bed and the way her things seemed to fit perfectly on his bathroom counter. 
The inspiration really hit when she left, when his heart didn’t feel like it was about to burst, but rather it felt like she’d taken pieces of it into her bedroom with her. 
He had no fucking idea why she had this weird hold over him. Maybe it was because they’d jumped straight into a very intimate relationship. Maybe it was because she knew more about him than most and she still seemed to like him just the same. Maybe it was because the entire time since he’d met her, he’d wanted to know everything there was to know about her, and he was slowly chipping away at all those little details. But, there was still so much more to learn and he was so incredibly and stupidly infatuated. 
With little regard for everything telling him not to get carried away, he still found himself flipping to an empty page in his journal and jotting down new ideas. Ideas that had stemmed from her. About how she made him feel. About her coconut-scented hair and her insecurities and the way she always had the right thing to say even if there weren't a lot of words coming from her mouth. It all seemed to just flow out all at once.
The next time she appeared was a little more distracting than the first. Because not only had he and Will finally made some kind of breakthrough, but she was also heading to the bathroom with a robe in hand. It made his heart race, wanting time to go faster so he could curl up next to her and breathe her in as soon as possible. He wanted to feel her soft skin under his fingertips and get lost in her hair again. His thoughts made it nearly impossible for him to focus on work anymore after that. 
So about twenty minutes later when she was tiptoeing back down the hall with her hair wrapped in a towel, he told Will he was too tired to continue writing. And with everything saved onto Will’s laptop, they cleaned up. Will organized everything into a neat pile and Harry put his stuff away into his backpack. While Will finished cleaning up the kitchen as well, Harry helped himself into the shared hall closet where they kept all their spare blankets and pillows. He had made his own makeshift bed on their longest couch in a matter of a few minutes, not that he’d actually be sleeping in it tonight, but Will didn’t need to know about that.
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He faked it for as long as he could hold out; until the apartment was completely quiet and long after Will had disappeared for good into his own bedroom. But the entire time he waited, wide awake and flipping mindlessly through social media apps, he craved her touch like nothing he ever had before. 
Though he had a really unhealthy obsession with caffeine, somehow, he wanted her more than that. More than the sweet, nostalgic taste of his mom’s oatmeal cookies and more than the best plate of paella he’d ever tried; one that had really changed the game for him when he was in Spain a few weeks ago. He’d craved that fucking pasta dish every day up until now, when there was something he wanted even more than it. 
He made a mound of pillows on the couch underneath a blanket to make it seem as if he was there just in case someone woke up in the middle of the night. Then, quiet as a mouse, he tiptoed down the hall and knocked on her door just after ten-thirty. However, when she left him standing in the hallway with no response, he suddenly worried that she might’ve been asleep or that she didn’t want him in. Or maybe she just hadn’t heard him, so he knocked again.
She ceased his worries when she appeared on the other side of the door, her silhouette fitting in perfectly with the cozy surroundings of her bedroom. Her room looked lived in and he guessed that’s why he liked it so much. She wasn’t exactly a minimalist and so, no matter how many times his eyes wandered around her room the few nights he’d spent in her bed, there was always something new to look at. 
Like her growing collection of stuffed farm animals or the picture frames on her bookshelf he never got a chance to fully examine. 
This time he was in her room hit him worse than all the others because there was a soft glow of candles burning in the background and he could hear the faint sound of lullabies playing behind her. It took all the strength he had in him not to pull her into bed right then and there.
She stepped aside when he didn’t say a word, and they really didn’t have to say much to each other at all by this point. Not that words were overflowing from her mouth to begin with, but it was nice to just be at a point where they could silently accept each other. 
Where he could step into her bedroom and not feel like an intruder as he sat on the edge of her mattress.
“Were you asleep already?” He finally asked, softly so as to not wake anyone through their paper thin walls, once she shut and locked her bedroom door.
“You think I sleep with candles burning?” She said matter-of-factly, and he was unsure of her tone but when he saw the slight hint of a smile on her face, he relaxed again. Her sarcasm was another thing he had to get used to. 
He watched her as she put the flames out, the last little bits of light in her room sizzling into complete darkness until his eyes fully adjusted to the new light. Most of her movements were masked by the music coming from a speaker he couldn’t quite locate. It wasn’t very loud, nor was it anything he’d ever heard before, but it calmed every single nerve in his entire body enough to crawl under her blanket and make himself at home.
She joined him soon after, falling right into place beside him except this time, they faced each other. She kept a safe distance, too worried about her breath smelling to get any closer to him than she already was. 
“You should set an alarm. So you’re back on the couch before anyone wakes up.” He figured she was right; it was the logical thing to do, but he also knew he would hate waking up in the morning and having to leave her. Still, he pulled his phone out and set it for five a.m. No one would be awake before that on a Sunday morning. Once he was done, he twisted around to put his phone on the side table closest to him before settling back into her.  
It was quiet between them for a moment as they just stared at each other because neither of them knew how to make the first move. She didn’t want to be as forward as she had been, and he didn’t want to do anything to hurt her. Even if they’d done this a few times already, it would still take time getting used to it. They weren’t dating, they were hardly even friends. Being this intimate with each other didn’t happen without some degree of doubt.
She took a deep breath out of her nose, as if she was giving in first and carefully sought out his hand underneath the blanket. Once she found it and had his hand in her own, she scooted closer to him and wrapped his arm around herself like a blanket. He giggled lightly at her before he repositioned his arm a little bit, to get comfortable and to accommodate her own arm wrapping around him. He felt her tense up like she hadn’t ever done before and he worried that she was uncomfortable or that he was holding on too tight.
“S’this okay?” He questioned, easing up a little bit.
Her eyes were squeezed shut as she nodded, “Yes.” 
He didn’t quite believe her, not with the way she seemed almost in pain, and how she had yet to melt into him like she normally did. Still, she reached up slowly and carefully wrapped her arm around his neck instead, bringing herself even closer to him.
It was almost like she was forcing her body to let it trust him. To let go of her past and be there in the present with Harry. It was an all new position they’d never slept in before. It was closer and she had to be more open; more willing to let him hug her and to feel his much harder chest moving against hers. To let him fall asleep in the crook of her neck if he wanted to. There was just so much more that she wanted to trust him with and eventually she did. Eventually he felt her muscles relax and her breath became less erratic.
“I don’t really let anyone touch me.” She confessed into the darkness around them to his unspoken question. With both their eyes closed and in safer territory, it didn’t bother her to tell him, and she really couldn’t deny there was something about Harry that made her want to reveal all her secrets to him. Maybe it was that he seemed to genuinely care about them that got her to spit out things she’d never peeped to a single soul on earth before. 
He was quiet for a moment even though inside his head it was a mess. Why didn’t she let anyone touch her? Had someone hurt her so badly she didn’t let herself experience closeness anymore? Or was she just like that? Just didn’t enjoy it very much? So many possibilities raced through his mind until he finally rubbed his hand over her back softly and took a deep breath in of her familiar perfume, the clean scents on her skin and in her damp hair.
“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”
She nodded against him and instead of pulling away like he expected her to, she cuddled even closer to him, finding a spot against his collarbone that comforted her more than she could have ever imagined it to. And then she was falling, both asleep and maybe something else too, but it all felt the same.
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