#idk man it’s already hard to have a bit of privacy in this house

[hellbubu]

Hello!! Ik im super late, I spent the whole saturday travelling back to my hometown (a 7 hour travel turned into 10 so i just wanted to sleep after) and today was fathers day here and i had a family asado, so i got home at 5pm and also wanted to sleep after so many hours of ~socializing~ lmao Also, here I have next to zero privacy and it's very difficult to have 'unproductive' time online ¬¬ My mother demands at least 6 hours of conversation a day and its...exhausting

Anyways, finally watched the ep! And it left me with more doubts than answers tbh

First, I think Blue house really doesn't give a shit about the tournament. Its a given they're gonna lose, so why bother with much training? I think they participate out of obligation, but I bet being in the team is more like a chore than an honor at this point lol (idk how Derrick would fake it, except by saying he's the leader when he just played for fun and left the rest of the responsabilities and strategizing to others?)

Somehow Derrick IS less creepy as a zombie, ngl. His dead eyes at least make sense when he's, you know, dead.

And I must say that I already didnt think much of the P4, but after this??? Bitch, be fr right now. Did they seriously just slaughtered 6 people??? And did it for the 'school traditions' not even the student body who are the actual victims!? Cause I'd totally support them if they had thought of the students, since the fucking 'Lower Master' (which i guess would be the vicedirector/vicerector???) was in on it (which eeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwww????????' like, are you some kind of pedo sadist? or just so hard up for that whiskey? what is your deal, man???) and they had no recourse for justice. But eh, maybe plan a little?? The tiniest bit???

Also, we don't see what became of the others!!! Did they kill them all? Did they knock them out and left them tied up somewhere and waited for Druitt's people to murder them?? (Imagine you expect your nephew to have killed 1 (one) boy and then he just throws SIX corpses at you lmao) And WHY were they more worried about Derrick than about the Lower Master? WHERE ARE THE TEACHERS IN THIS SCHOOL? You *cannot* pay me enough to believe that 4 teenage boys have more autority than the full roaster of teachers? *They* never wondered where the man was? Why were they following orders from children??? How little did they interact with their superior than a zombie didn't arouse any questions?

(Also, HOW did they took them all out? Wheter they killed them or knocked them out, there were 4 other robust boys and a full grown adult and they had one single weapon! I was kinda expecting Violet to start throwing butter knifes a lá Sebastian when he crouched before the door lololol)

And that post-mortem hit really was overkill. I guess they felt Derrick was completely to blame and wanted to let out some anger. How do you even coordinate a hit like that tho? Awkward xD

I did not expect Ciel to keep up the innocent act lol. Yeah, suuuure you don't understand a little murder as a necessity (or as a treat xD) And admitting murder so readily is the epitome of stupid!! They didnt even ask you directly if you killed him! You could have said he died accidentally and you just...stumbled into UT's cult. Bluff or something, man! Amateurs

Yeahh I totally believe people with more wealth and prospects have more 'episodes' planned out. Poor people tend to just think about the end of the month and then the next one and so on. Rich people don't have many limits to their imaginations (I mean, the men dont.). I believe the LM, being an 'educator' had probably plans for multiple of the boys and their futures and how that'd affect his, bla bla bla and that's why he became so...lifelike.

Oh, so you're in the UT is Ciel's grandad train! Or is it canon now? Idk, I feel lost xD (But ALSO. Why is UT not chasing the people that killed his son/other Phantomhives and instead antagonising the only actual Phantomhive left???????? It makes no senseeeeee)

I don't give a s h i t if bullets didn't do UT harm. The SECOND I heard that 'heh-heh-heh' I'd be shooting. Three bullets at least (Ciel's gun is a modern one, why the f idk, so he prob has 20-25 bullets instead of the 5-6 of revolvers). I'd just want some *blood*. (Kudos to Ciel for keeping his head straight tho, UT would have probably bounced the bullets and injured the others)

Hartcourt is going THROUGH it today. He was probably very relieved when Blue House humiliated themselves in front of the Queen cause people would probably forget what happened to him in the pitch. But now this??? Poor baby. He's gonna have nightmares for YEARS.

I love the idea that O!Ciel still has an inner goodness that neither of his blood family had, even without being hella traumatized as a child.

Sebastian being pre-cog is bullshit. Just say you're insecure, Seb. It's okay. UT kicked your ass before, it's fair to be scared lolol

And poor Joanne passing out. I kept expecting Ciel to shoot the zombie Sebastian was protecting him from in the head, making his head explode, to remark the fact that he can (kinda) protect himself (sometimes). Alas, he didn't. Wasted oportunity!

Sebastian totally wants the Queen dead. He hates his master being someone else's dog xD

I LOVE that Ed went away but only to look for a weapon and come back!! Love that kid lol

The P4 were expelled and left probably in disgrace, but really, how much?? Like, they obviously end up working for Druitt (WHY?) but....adopt a new identity? Leave the country? I love that they sticked together tho. And even this the crown had all of THIS covered up; so really, they could have just done better.

Love the servants and the little glimpse we got of them! Ciel missed them too, it's obvious ha.

Oh, the Queen is 10000% evil (like pretty much any monarch of this time period) and very much had something to do with Ciel's family dying. Why tho, is the question.

Traveling for so long is tiring, adding to that socializing, amor you should probably rest a bit more. Just imagining me traveling 10 hours plus having to socialize that much makes me feel like one of UT's bizarre dolls.

Maybe Derrick just made the others play badly so that he'd look better? But that just makes it funnier when the time for the tournament comes and he's shit. "I'm just here to have a good time." "Well, stop having a good time and start properly playing!"

Honestly, I kinda like how much they value tradition because it makes the school seem a bit evil. Others have already pointed out that this arc is a mundane horror arc. The pace and the goals make it seem like one of those teen movies but not quite right. Ciel needs to get rid of a bully, he needs to get close to the popular kids (the P4) so he can get invited to the party (the midnight tea party) like in the movies. Ciel is almost like that unpopular kid who wants to become popular. But at the same time, the arc reflects how society as a whole works. You need to network, gain trust, etc. to get invited to certain things. There are traditions or processes that could be changed but aren't because "they work just fine rn. if it ain't broke don't fix it."

I don't like that the P4 are idiots that share 1 brain cell, because in what universe do you decide to try and bring your victims back to life???? They'll tattle on you.

The Lower Master is 1000% a pedo sadist. Why else would he be hiding in the shadows watching kids get beat? IMO he's as bad a Druitt because those kids are under his care, the parents put their trust in that institution, in that fucker and he does that? he's a bitch.

There is only one teacher in that school and it's Sebastian. Otherwise, the other houses would have a coach too. But it only seems like the Blue House has a coach, that does spend a lot of time with one particular young boy and carries him when he's hurt and kinda flirted with another and made him confess to being bullied... yeah, that school has too many faculty that's into kids... poor kids.

Violet kinda just blocked the exit while Redmond + Bluewer held one person and Greenhill beat up Derrick. I love Violet, I really do, but there's no way he took down the rest of the boys. Those boys should've been able to run and the P4 should've been forced to hunt them down for sport.

The P4 are lucky to live in an era where they can't be easily voice-recorded. Because if Ciel wasn't the Queen's Guard dog, it'd be a he said, she said kinda thing. The moment Ciel started asking, they should've just said," I have the right to an attorney and won't speak without one present."

Gender and socio-economic status must play a big role. There would obviously be exceptions, there's always people eager to climb the social ladder (marrying kids into a better-off family, a middle-class family pushing for one of the kids to go into a good, respectable, career, etc.) The LW was probably just eager imagining what kinda of kid he'd see beaten up next year and what success story would decide to mention his name as an inspirations or whatever, maybe he even wanted to become the headmaster.

Amor, I don't think he's Ciel's grandpa. I just think he was Claudia's sidepiece. She probably rode that D while away from home when he was busy being the Guard Dog. She probably left after fucking, meaning UT wrote their names and drew hearts around them in a notebook. Maybe they're canon in the manga, but I just find this funnier.

I feel like UT would've either been offended had Ciel fired at him or found it hilarious. Because that kid knows not even 2 reapers and a demon can take him on but he still shot at him? He'd burst out laughing.

Harcourt is the real victim. He shat himself in front of everyone, he discovers one of his crushes is a butler, then his body goes into shock because there are hungry, hungry zombies and he pisses himself, lastly, his two crushes are being gay in front of him and he passes out. And by, like, the next day, his boss is expelled, his crushes leave, and he isn't allowed to talk to anyone about what happened. My boy needs therapy.

I think Yana has spoken at times about how Vincent is kinda very evil and just the fact that he's evil (even if he's so soft and attentive to his sons) was kinda passed down to them. I think R!Ciel might've inherited more of the Phantomhive evilness because he was the oldest and Vincent might've spent a bit more time since he'd inherited everything. I also think that Ciel has always been the one with more inner goodness, I think. I've seen screenshots here where O!Ciel says he wants to start his toy company because he's almost always inside (cause he's sickly) and wants kids like him to be able to enjoy themselves because most toys are outside toys. Meanwhile, R!Ciel tells him that it's dumb and stuff. There's also a difference when it comes to how they speak about the Earl's duties to the people who live in the Phantomhive land and how they talk to servants from the little I've seen.

Ed is such a sweet boy. I like the dynamic between him and Ciel.

I am 10000000000% Druitt approached them and gave them the job because he "loves" his nephew. The only way Druitt becomes tolerable to me is if I HC him hating his family and going out of his way to fuck them over. That's why he's doing this to poor Redmond. Because I doubt even he (Druitt) is stupid enough to think that any of this is a good idea.

and very much had something to do with Ciel's family dying. Why tho, is the question.

I can answer this question. She had Claudia killed because she UT's D but he was too in love with Claudia. She obviously had to wait until there was a Phantomhive heir old enough to be a Guard Dog before killing her, hence she waited until Vincent was around 15 years old. Then she got impatient because UT had still not gotten over his ex and killed Vincent. She probably wouldn't give a shit if the twins dies because if UT didn't want her, then she'd at least have killed all he loved and would just give the title to the Midfords or some other family. (joking)

My best bet is that they were turning against her or knew something that they shouldn't and she didn't trust them to keep their mouths shut.

[kingdommmmm]

Dongsik and Yoosung

“Babe, come here,” I hear from the next room. My boyfriend, Yang Dongsik, and I are hanging out at his place and I’m finishing up the dishes after dinner for him. “What’s up?” I ask. “Just come here,” he repeats. I sigh and wipe my hands dry. I walk into the living room. “Everything all good, babe?” I worry. “No…Yoosung needs some help, I think he broke his T.V. or some shit and needs my help. I’m gonna head over to his place for a bit.” 

Park Yoosung is also in the same K-pop group as my boyfriend, which is the group Kingdom. They have fucking amazing concepts with kingdoms and have a whole storyline and everything. Yang Dongsik is Louis and Park Yoosung is Ivan. I met my boyfriend through a backstage comeback show, because I was there supporting my friend Alexa, another Kpop idol. Yea, I have famous friends, guys.

Anyways, I wasn't gonna let him go see him without bringing me along. “I wanna go too, babe. Wanna say hi to Yoosung,” I pout. “All right, fine. Let’s go,” my boyfriend says, and we head out the door. When we arrive, Yoosung greets us and asks if we want anything to drink. I take water and Dongsik takes soju. We sip and Dongsik takes care of Yoosung’s T.V. I shake my foot, bored. “Yoosung, let’s play a game while we wait,” I suggest. He nods. “Okay, what about UNO?” he offers. I nod and watch my boyfriend work while Yoosung goes to get the card game.

“Idk what the fuck he did, this shit is glitching,” he explains to me. I giggle. “Yoosung always fucks up technology,” I admit. Dongsik nods. “What do I fuck up?” he says, coming back in with a soju in one hand and the game in the other. “Technology,” I reply. He laughs. “That’s true. Good thing for your boyfriend knowing how to fix it,” he answers. I laugh and we begin to play Uno. Dongsik takes a break and joins us for a little bit.

Suddenly, he leans close to me and whispers, “I’m fucking horny.” I glance at his lap, and yup, he’s definitely got a boner going on. Well fuck, we’re at his friend’s house, we can’t just fuck here. But Yoosung glances at us and smirks. “Well, are we a little horny over there?” he giggles. Dongsik sighs. “Man, privacy, please.” I laugh and Yoosung shakes his head. “Um, Dongsik, this gonna be weird, but have you ever thought about a three-way?” My boyfriend looks at me. “Yea, I’ve thought about it. Both of us are bisexual,” he confesses. I shiver. “Um, I’m interested,” I say breathily. He whips his head around and stares at me. “Oh, really? Are you sure you know what you’re signing up for?” 

I smirk. “Yea. Babe, I really do. I want it rough, anyway,” I tell him. He exchanges a look with Yoosung. “If she wants it, how can I say no?” Dongsik asks him. Yoosung nods. “Well, then, I’ll get the condoms, lube, and towels. Meet me in the spare room, will you two?” He walks out and I am left staring at my boyfriend, wondering what the fuck I just signed up myself for. Dongsik looks at me. “Are you sure about this, babe? I don’t wanna pressure you just because you’re curious and I’m curious and horny,” he says, cupping my face in his hands gently. I nod. “Babe, you know I’ve always been a little curious about this, too. Yea…I’ll enjoy it,” I tell him, smiling.

 He takes my hand and we walk into the spare room, my heart pounding with pleasure, anticipation, and fear. I can already feel my pussy tingle and become wet at the thought of who is gonna fuck me first and how. I see there’s some handcuffs set up by the bed and I swallow hard. Yoosung follows my eyes and shakes his head. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to have me use them, unless you’re a bad girl. But all innuendo aside, we’re not doing anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he reassures me. I nod and smile. “All right, then,” I say, grabbing Yoosung by the arm. His eyes go wide. He probably didn’t expect me to be a switch, but Dongsik knows firsthand how true that is for me. 

I smirk as he begins to undress me, eyes going wide at my lingerie.  I start kissing him, not giving him time to react or even breathe. He doesn’t have lips as soft as Dongsik, but he’s still a good kisser. I undress him while his kisses linger down my neck, moaning his name. I get to his boxers and palm his cock through the fabric. He shivers and grabs my hand. “Take it off, babe,” he murmurs. Dongsik joins in and begins to undress himself, fisting his big dick and moaning. The sight is too hot for me, so I fall on the bed, moaning myself. We’re all undressed now, so I guess here goes nothing, right? Dongsik pushes Yoosung to the side and jumps on top of me, quickly putting a condom on. “Do you need lube?” he manages to ask me in his horny state. “Nah, I’m wet enough,” I murmur. “Speak up, baby girl,” Yoosung says, joining us on the bed. He spanks my boyfriend’s ass, earning him a squeak. Yoosung pulls on his own condom and growls. 

“I have a fun little game planned, Dongsik and Y/N,” he declares, shaking out his hands and placing one on my tummy. I gulp. Dongsik keeps kissing me, not paying attention when Yoosung pulls out a blindfold and moves the handcuffs near me. I swallow really hard, shifting to get more comfortable. My boyfriend grabs my hand and looks at me. “You having second thoughts or something?” “No, not at all! Go ahead and explain the game, Yoosungie,” I respond. He smiles at the nickname. “Okay, so you’ve been a very bad horny girl, and Dongsik and I are going to take turns fucking you AND make you guess who it is while blindfolded and handcuffed. We need to make a safe word, though, in case you want us to stop, okay? How about…kingdom?” he suggests. I laugh, grabbing his hand in my free one. “Sure.” 

Yoosung works on getting my handcuffs on while Dongsik blindfolds me, still managing to keep our little make-out session going during this. Once I’m set up, I feel someone get on top of me. “We’re going to start now. Now guess whose hot body this is!” one of them says aggressively. They start kissing me all over, making me wet and warm. “Want you right here,” I moan softly, pressing my fingers on my clit. “Greedy, are we?” they say, grabbing my hands roughly and replacing them with their own fingers. I shift my weight as they press their fingers into me, trying to feel if it’s Dongsik or not. Whoever it is, god, they’re fucking good at fingering. I’m so slippery and warm. The heat in my core is going to explode if they don’t stop. “Oh my god, don’t stop, I’m gonna cum, daddy, oh!!!!!!!!!!” I practically scream. I hear a growl and a moan in response. “No, you’re not gonna cum yet, daddy wants you to cum on his cock. But I still need to prep you, baby,” I hear as he takes his fingers out and shifts his head lower. Oh god, is he gonna….?

I start squirming around as one of their tongues licks a path up my clit. “Ohhhhhh!” I moan joyously as I writhe around, the handcuffs holding me in place. He sucks my clit into his mouth, making me yell out in joy. I hear a snicker, and then a sharp, “Don’t cum yet. Can you tell who is fucking you yet?” I tilt my head. Dongsik slays at pussy eating, but maybe Yoosung does too. I must take too long to respond, because whoever it is licks me faster, harder, and more aggressively. “Don’t even know if it’s your own boyfriend?” they ask me, making me shiver and moan. “Um, it’s Yoosung!” I gasp, just guessing at this point. “Yea, correct, But you took too long to answer. I’m not gonna go easy on you now,” Yoosung answers.

“Didn’t want you to, anyway,” I answer, hissing as his cock fills me up suddenly. It’s definitely a little smaller than my boyfriend’s, but he probably knows how to use it well, too. I’m right. He thrusts, setting a pace that gets me clawing at Dongsik for help. He squeezes my hand and grabs my ass as Yoosung continues to thrust, going deeper and turning me on fully. “Oh!” Yoosung moans. “Dongsik, do something to me too or I’ll do something to you,” he adds. My boyfriend makes a sound that sounds like a whimper and I hear shifting and a soft moan. 

“Take off my fucking blindfold now, because I need to see this,” I yelp, curious and horny af. Yoosung complies and suddenly I see Dongsik on his knees, Yoosung licking his ass crack while he’s still fucking my pussy. I’m gonna die from how hot this image is. It will forever be in my head. I grab Dongsik’s hand with my handcuffed hands and he shivers at the metal. He squeezes me reassuringly as Yoosung continues to thrust in and out of me. I’m screaming into Yoosung’s pillow, begging for release of some kind. Dongsik is making out with me, making me even more horny. Suddenly, I’m cumming onto Yoosung’s cock and he’s pulling out as I do so, bending his head to lick my cum. 

Holy fuck, I’ve never seen something so HOT. Yoosung licking my cum while Dongsik is kissing me softly. I’m going to lose my mind here. Dongsik doesn’t give me any rest, though. He immediately takes the opportunity to fuck me right in the ass, leaving Yoosung to insert his own cock into Dongsik’s ass. Well, damn. I grind against Dongsik and bend my head into his lap. His cock bounces against my ass and he plays with my hair, moaning and closing his eyes as Yoosung also fucks him roughly. I play with Yoosung’s hands, showing how damn flexible I am. This will probably hurt later tbh. They moan and continue the thrusting and I’m left whimpering as Dongsik pounds my ass. I’m still handcuffed this whole time, and my wrists are probably so red and nasty right now, but I don’t even mind. I hear both of them cum and feel it too, dying as I feel it fill my ass and splash everywhere. I cum too, rubbing my clit with my own fingers. 

We lie there for a minute, heavy breathing the only sound. “Damn,” I moan softly. Dongsik whimpers a little. “Babe, suck my cock, I’m still horny,” he begs. He starts jerking off a little and I grab it right out of his hands and bend my head down. I lick the tip and he makes a sound of pure joy and ecstasy. He always tastes so good…Yoosung watches us and motions for me to scooch over so he can suck it, too. I nod, understanding. 

Dongsik is gonna have both of our mouths on his cock. He’ll probably be overstimulated as hell, but I can give him cuddles after all of this is over. Yoosung starts licking the other side of Dongsik’s dick, and I lick the opposite side, bobbing my head and spitting on it for lube. I feel him getting hard already, and I grab his balls roughly, causing him to yelp. “Babe, don’t cum yet, give us a damn chance before you lose control,” I moan around a mouthful of dick. 

“Fuck, you’re making me hard, though,” he replies, leaning his head back in ecstasy. That’s so damn hot, I keep licking and playing with his balls and see Yoosung doing the same. “Right there, you two,” Dongsik growls. He’s breathing hard and making me feel even more turned on. He thrusts into our mouths, growling and biting his lip. After a few minutes of this, he empties his salty load into our mouths, making both of us moan and swallow hard. 

“Cuddle time?” I suggest as I wipe the back of my hand on my mouth. Yoosung nods. “Let’s clean up first, though, babe,” he says, and grabs the towels from the bedside table. As we wipe up, Dongsik looks at both of us. “Did y'all like that experience then?” he asks. I nod. “I sure as hell did,” I moan. Yoosung nods, too. “Yea, that was hot,” he adds. Dongsik grins. “Fuck yes. We definitely need to do this more often. I wonder if any of our other Kingdom members would be down to fuck us, Y/N,” he says. I smirk. “I think they would, babe.” 

After our sore asses clean up and stretch a little, we get into a little cuddle ball. Yoosung curls on his side with his hands on both of us as Dongsik and I cuddle. I’ve never felt so loved and warm before. Two men that I really care about fucked me and now are cuddling me. I’m living the dream. I snake my hands onto Yoosung’s waist and lightly kiss him. I want him to know I appreciated how vulnerable he just was. He fucked two people who are already in an established relationship. That takes some balls, both literally and figuratively. He had to figure out our relationship dynamic and how he would fit in. I admire him so much for that. 

“You did so well, baby,” I tell him. He smirks. “I think we all did.” I nod back at him. “Definitely doing this again,” Dongsik giggles, kissing my cheek and Yoosung’s, too. I feel so loved oh my goddddd. This is definitely not a one-time thing, I think we all agreed we want this again. I lie back and bask in my boys’ love. They love me and that’s all that matters in life. 

[keerishima]

hi hi!! i loved what i saw so far on your blog 😎 it’s so cuteee waahh

for requests could you do something likeee um um soft things they do? SORRY IF THATS TOO BROAD- LMAKFKAKDK

oh oh or for bakugo could you do a small thing about trying to hold his hand for the first time? idk idk you don’t have to do any of these but just know your writing is amazing !!

hi there! this is actually so cute omg of course im going to do these! i hope they were okay, i sort of did it in a way where it would work with and without an s/o but some leaned more to either side,, if that makes sense

also thank you so much, i’m so glad you like my blog so far!! i hope i can continue this level of work for the future <3

Kirishima sometimes sneezes so hard his whole body hardens by accident- like he’ll just poof up like a pufferfish. Sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s hardened 💀 it’s adorable to watch the both of you jump confusion when he tries to lie back down but he ends up poking you

todoroki juggles with the ice he can make. There’ll be days where he is watching or listening to something and suddenly his right hand turns blue and there’s three small ice balls between tossed between his hands. someone started a competition to guess how long he could do it for and so far, Shoji is in the lead

iida has a habit of shushing you in his sleep. like maybe you’d wake up before him and be on your phone, he’d roll over all bleary-eyed and you’d know he was basically still asleep because his normal I’ve-just-woken-up-and-you’re-the-first-thing-I-saw smile isn’t there. he’d brush his fingers against your mouth all ‘mmfhm shhh don’t worryyy don’t worry i'll t-ake..care’ because even in his sleep he wants to make sure you’re okay at all times. his role as class rep really is perfect for him 😩

denki is so energetic. and so clingy. sometimes a bit too much but just tell him and he’ll bound off and give you your space. anyway because of his energy, he sometimes struggles to sleep and rest. before he could never find peace with it and sleep, so he started to ask you to take a long walk with him before bed. you’d go around the area around the dorms and the woods area and talk about literally anything and everything. sometimes you’d walk past houses and try to guess the names of the house owners.

‘Someone called Sakura definitely lives there’

‘Why because there’s sakura trees?’

‘...yes’

shoji always wanted to help you. ALWAYS. if you were doing something that needed a bunch of tools like your makeup, or cooking, or building something like a new dresser after you told aizawa your old one broke, shoji would come RUNNING. ‘hey y/n can I help you?’ and the way he helps is he holds everything you need for you, and hands it over as soon as you need it.

‘okay mascara time shoji can y-‘ *shoji is already shoving the mascara into your face*

‘oh gosh I need a wrench-‘ *shoji’s wrenching it for you*

basically he just wants to help you 25/8

sero absolutely loves using his tape to drag you to him. if you’re across the room from him he’ll  loosely wrap it around your waist, and then pull you in towards his body with a smirk on his face. his favourite time to do this is when he’s in his hammock and you’re standing across his room, he’ll just pull you along no matter what you were doing or holding so he could hold you. another thing he’d do is pull you in for a hug and then suddenly tightly  wrapping his tape around the both of you like a snake, only smiling cheekily when you give him a questioning look.

‘sero?’ ‘I’m not letting you go’

bakugo stares at your hands. bakugo REALLY likes staring at your hands, I feel like bakugo has an obsession with your hands...because his are rough from his quirk but yours are soft and comforting :( and man does he want to hold them. but he refuses. holding hands is for extras. and also he doesn’t want to hurt you by accidentally setting off his quirk, but also because holding hands is for extras >:(. hon you’re going to have to take the initiative and one day randomly grab his hands, when you’re out don’t give him time to really comprehend that you’ve just grabbed his hand, because he really really likes it but his pride won’t let him enjoy it. if you grab it randomly he’ll probably short-circuit and walked with you dazed and again, just stare at your joint hands. his thoughts are running wild ‘fuck hands so soft fuck we’re holding hands oh god don’t let go bakugo or else I’ll smack you don’t sweat don’t sweat don’t sweat’. meanwhile you’re just smiling happily because he hasn’t let go! in fact he’s just tightened his hold around your fingers, grumbling under his breath

midoriya is so cute oh my lord. he's absolutely adorable. we all know he loves his note-taking and if you don't know, he also takes invisible notes when he doesn't have his books. once he got close to you, you became his new notebook. kind of. if you're dating midoriya you need to be able to handle his chattering. he'd do the boy thing and lean into your face so his breath is brushing your cheeks and not realise that he's making you flustered. 'hey y/n did you see the way mount lady did that? she runs and makes sure she has space to not step on anyway y/n what if she ever stepped on anyone what would the hero handbook say can you imagine??'

tokoyami would fluff his feathers omg i'm just imagining it and its the cutest thing ever holy shit. and he normally only does it when he lays down in your lap. he'd fall asleep resting on your thighs and then get up, just to stretch out his legs and back, change positions, oh and shake his head to fluff out his feathers. the first time you saw him doing that you literally stopped breathing in surprise, it was so cute. nobody else knew he did that until denki walked in on tokoyami curled in on your lap and your boyfriend chose that exact time to do his little birdy wiggle. best believe denki ran out gleaming to share the new information

shinsou takes you on a walk, to one place specifically. and this one place is a little secluded area in the park literally filled with cats of all sizes and shapes. according to shinsou all of these cats have names and favourite foods and favourite ways to be petted and their favourite person is shinsou himself! okay that changes a bit when you get involved too, but shinsou isn’t a jealous person especially when it comes to cats obviously. these are your favourite moments with him because as i’ve said before, shinsou values privacy so this is where he lets himself relax in public. when he’s comfortable he pulls you onto his lap or tucks you onto his side or lays his head on you. he’ll litter kisses on your neck whilst you stroke the kittens as per his instructions of what they like. he even picks up each kitten and says hi, pecking them on the nose when you two arrive, god my heart that’s so cute. when you leave the kittens would all meow briefly before teetering away, as you make shinsou promise to bring you back

[jenojaemssss]

dazed and confused

pairing: jeong jaehyun x gn!reader

genre/categories: angst, college!au, frat boy!jaehyun, a bit of fluff

word count: 3.6k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble wtf)

warnings: mentions of sex, allusions of sex yk the vibes, oh and a lot of cursing 'cause i lack the ability to keep language below 14+

synopsis: jaehyun isn’t scared of heights. he isn’t afraid of roller coasters that dropped at those terrifying heights. but he is, in fact, so utterly terrified of falling.

a/n: y’all this was supposed to be a drabble…but i wrote too much and now it’s a fic and idk how i feel abt it LOL anyways, it has not been (and will probably never be) proofread so please excuse any grammatical and spacing errors! i will now go cry with my 3 assignments due in like an hour.

~~~~~~~~

faded. drunk. confused. mentally unstable. all these words, along with maybe 30 more could be used to describe your current state as you sludge your way into a familiar bedroom at the nu chi theta house after puking up probably a lifetime’s worth of alcohol.

the god awful ringing in your ears and the throbbing of your head makes the room spin, but you’re awake enough to recognize that the room was currently occupied. before you can mumble out a string of curse words and a sorry, you particularly notice exactly who was inside the room.

you’re caught off guard by a, now pissed looking, jaehyun along with someone who you don’t immediately recognize. you realize then who’s room you just entered and mentally smack yourself, reminding yourself to rid of the habit.

the other person is hiding underneath a blanket as jaehyun does his best to cover their figure, protecting their privacy to shoot daggers at whoever was interrupting his ordeal.

it takes you a couple seconds to fully register what was happening in front of you and you scoff.

so that’s how it is.

jaehyun, on the other hand, has his eyes widened. so wide that you think there are more whites visible than the typical brown orbs. he’s gaping now, mouth open and trying to think of excuses as to why he was in bed with someone else after dumping you only 2 days ago.

in his defense, there’s no need for an excuse. the two of you were already over, and he could fuck whoever he wanted to fuck. you could be doing the same.

but you aren’t.

instead, all of yesterday and the day before, you hunkered in your bedroom, cuddled in a blanket with tissues sprawled all over your bed and the floor. you went to your classes, hoodie pulled up way over your head to shield your puffy face and baggy eyes, came home, drowned yourself in ice cream, and cried.

yet he’s here, hooking up with people after leaving you heartbroken. you should’ve listened to jungwoo when he warned you about his flatmate; about his tendencies to sleep around and leave his relationships in the dirt.

when you and jaehyun first began flirtatious interactions with one another, it wasn’t in your intention to start anything serious with the dimple-faced boy. yet one encounter followed another and you never realized how hard you were falling until you were up at 3 am smiling at messages he’d sent you the previous day.

when he asked you to be his girlfriend after about 2 months of successful dates, you were ecstatic. your mind raced back to jungwoo, correcting him telepathically. he was so wrong about jaehyun. he was the sweetest person you’d ever been with, and was so patient with you.

It even made jungwoo take back his words after you announced the relationship to your best friend.

he said jaehyun had changed since he’s been with you.

that change lasted about 4 months afterwards.

4 months of pure bliss; cute dates like picnics at 11 pm after going on drives, watching the sunset from the roof of a nearby apartment building, jumping fences into the expanses of lakes after hours.

4 months of being pressed into a mattress with jaehyun gazing down so lovingly at your writhing body. him pressing into you as your mewls surround the small bedroom. him holding you as both of you come down from your high.

4 months of falling in love with jaehyun.

all to waste after he texted you during class, saying that he needed to talk to you. at least he had the decency to not dump you over text.

jaehyun said something along the lines of “it’s not you, it’s me,” and mentioned that he “doesn’t like being tied down.” you remember nodding, emotions not surfacing until he stands up and leaves you at the coffee shop just around the corner of your dorm building.

your coffee shop. the one you two went to whenever you wanted to find the other. it was like your secret hideout, because no one from your campus knew of this place, even though it was so close to home.

you thought things were going so well, the two of you even making plans to meet each other’s parents over the coming break. but with only a few words from one side, and wordless nods coming another, everything faded to dust.

so as you stare at the man who shattered your heart with someone else underneath him, you plaster a polite smile before flipping him off and exiting the room. his shouts follow you, and you inwardly scream at him to shut up. he has no right to sound so broken at the moment.

you pass by jungwoo on your way out and he immediately notices your tense figure, trailing his eyes towards the direction you were coming from. his jaw clenches when he realizes, wanting to barge into the room and beat the living shit out of his flatmate, but instead follows you out the house.

the blaring music coming from the beaten house becomes muffled by the time you step foot outside the door, tears threatening, but not yet falling from your bloodshot eyes.

jaehyun isn’t slow to catch up with you, but is stopped by a raging jungwoo before exiting the house. jungwoo warns jaehyun to leave you alone, but jaehyun is persistent, pushing past his friend to grasp your shoulder before you could storm away from his reach.

his previous rendezvous has been completely forgotten, and all jaehyun could focus on was you. he notices how you reeked of alcohol, a hint of marijuana radiating from you as well. what he notices the most, though, was that you had a hint of his favorite perfume lingering on your skin.

before you have the chance to turn around, jaehyun is ripped from you, a loud smack following almost immediately after. jaehyun stands, one hand holding onto his pounding cheek while the other grip’s jungwoo’s shirt.

your best friend has both his hands tightly fisting jaehyun’s shirt, staring bullets into the boy’s face.

“you have no right to barge out here and chase us down after you let y/n go,” jungwoo growls. he sees red, heart hurting for his best friend. he cares about you so much. the two of you always fitting into one mold, completing each other, and every time either one of you had their hearts broken, the other would be there to fix and mend everything.

yet, he’d never seen someone hurt you as much as jaehyun did. however much you hurt, it hurt him equivalently. he knew this one was different, because the pain you felt was so much more intense than any you’d experienced before.

what pushed jungwoo even further off the ledge for him to act like this though, was that if he were to be in the same position as you, you would be doing the same thing. you’d also be doing your best to keep him from hurting himself over and over by someone who only meant trouble.

“woo, that’s enough,” you mutter out before coming to push the two boys away from each other.

“y/n, let me explain,” jaehyun grabs your arm as he says this, eyes searching yours for some form of reaction. your previously watery eyes are dry now, and the emotion that was threatening to overcome you minutes prior have all disappeared. you shrug off his hand.

“there’s nothing left for you to explain.”

it killed you, but you had to muster the strength to spit those words at the man you were falling in love with. you knew that it would have been worse if you were to hear him out.

“y/n please just-”

“that’s enough,” you whip your head in his direction, warning him with your eyes.

“but y/n-”

“i said enough!” you’re yelling now, slightly pushing the boy back. he stumbles over himself, and jungwoo takes this opportunity to grab your shoulders and tuck you safely behind his back. you had tears running from your eyes, frustrated at the tugging of your heartstrings because you’re supposed to hate him. you were supposed to be elated that you were in this situation, him begging for your time.

yet it hurt seeing him so broken in front of you, begging for another chance. it hurt so damn much, and you’re so angry at yourself for being such a pushover.

jaehyun straightens himself, looking in your direction but not quite at you because you're hiding your face behind your best friend’s denim jacket covered back.

“y/n, i just want to apologize.”

“there’s nothing to apologize for.”

“there-”

“no, jaehyun, there isn’t,” you use this as a stepping stone to emerge from behind jungwoo, who’s calmed down a bit since connecting his fist with jaehyun’s sharp features.

“don’t talk. let me finish,” you raise a hand before he could get another word out of his mouth. he shrinks a bit, but his eyes focus on your figure slowly approaching him, letting you know he’s listening.

“there’s no need for you to apologize for whatever you were doing because we aren’t together anymore and you can sleep with whoever you want. i don’t care, it’s none of my business. you don’t have to apologize for me walking in on you, because again, none of my business anymore.” you take in a deep breath before you continue.

“if you were going to apologize for breaking up with me, there’s no need. what’s done is done,” you whisper. you feel a huge lump form in your throat. you do your best to swallow it, along with your pride, and smile up at him.

you can’t really read him, but you can tell he’s in thought. you continue.

“if you were to apologize,” you began, sniffing up the snot that’s beginning to trickle down your nose. you probably look like a mess, but you could care less. you needed to get all of this off your chest. you wouldn’t have any other opportunities, so might as well do it now.

fuck the fake smile. fuck faking it til you make it. this is so much better.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were sincere with me,” you continue. jaehyun’s eyes go wide, and you notice the slight, subconscious, shake of his head. you proceed.

“i shouldn’t have believed it when you said i was different. fool me once, shame on me. but you continued to make me believe that i was different.” jaehyun opens his mouth, but you give him a look that shuts him up completely. he needs to fix that habit of always wanting to interrupt.

your ramble continues. “you should be apologizing for lying to me when you said you wanted to meet my parents. we set up the date and everything, and they were actually looking forward to meeting you, but now i have to tell them you aren’t coming,” you speak as calmly as you can. anything related to your parents always makes you ten times more emotional in every situation, and this was taking somewhat of a toll on you.

“you should be apologizing for making me feel special all the damn time. you made me believe i was the only one for you and that you were the only one for me. you made me feel so fucking foolish after you left, you know that? i thought we were doing so well, and you just left me in the dust after being so fucking vague. what do you mean ‘it’s not me, it’s you?’ it makes absolutely no fucking sense,” you’re almost hysterical now as you let everything fall down your face. you’re still eye to eye with jaehyun, and he looks taken aback by your declarations that he’s rendered speechless.

your next few words are what makes jaehyun’s world come crashing down.

“you should be apologizing for making me believe you were falling in love with me too,” you whimper. you’re full on sobbing now, and jungwoo assists you from falling to your knees.

it takes jaehyun a couple moments to register what was happening, a couple moments to fully comprehend what you were saying; what you meant.

you were so broken because you were beginning to love him. and he let you go.

“i’m..i’m-”

“leave, jae. do it when i’m asking nicely,” jungwoo’s low voice echos from your spot on the ground. your shoulder shake with every sob you’re letting escape you.

“jungwoo, let me fucking talk, okay? stop interrupting me every damn time while i’m trying to figure things out with y/n. this was our relationship, not yours!” he’s yelling now, and jungwoo shrinks. he knows he’s stepping over the line, but some things reach a limit, and jaehyun is reaching his.

“yes, i know y/n told you things, but did you know that i used to wait after classes when the weather turned bad just to make sure y/n wouldn’t be walking home in the rain? always forgot an umbrella when it counts,” he chuckles the last line, eyes teary.

“did y/n tell you that every single time my phone rang, i was internally wishing that the name popping up on the screen would be ‘lovely’ and no one else’s? i always wait for your calls, you know,” he directs it to you this time. “they always made my day.”

you raise your head when you realize he was walking to you. when you see his tortured expression while reminiscing his feelings for you, you suddenly had the urge to run up to him and wipe away the tears falling from his handsome face. you hated that that was your first thought, though.

“did y/n tell you i was falling too?”

you tense at his words, and jungwoo scoffs.

“if you were falling, why did you break things off?” the words leave your mouth before you had the chance to stop them. your mind was running a mile a minute because in what world did it make sense for jaehyun to dump you when he claims to be falling in love with you.

“i was scared,” he finally mutters after a couple seconds of painful silence.

“what is there to be scared of, jaehyun?” you’re standing now, jungwoo completely baffled at the interaction taking place in front of his eyes. he realizes then, that maybe jaehyun was telling the truth.

jaehyun was scared of falling.

jungwoo recalls all the times jaehyun has been in an actual relationship, but can only remember one other time that he actually introduced someone to the boys as his. all the others were just casual flings, where they'd be slipping out the door before anyone could acknowledge their existence.

when he broke things off with that past relationship, his actions were similar to the ones he’s portrayed the past few days. silence in his room instead of the typical blaring music from his sound system. a shocking decrease in teasing his housemates. jungwoo even noticed that he didn’t see the dimples on jaehyun’s face as frequently.

the one other person ended the same way, jaehyun breaking it off about 4 months into the relationship, saying he didn’t like being tied down.

he didn't like being tied down? he doesn’t like...shit, what a fucking dumbass. he’s scared of being in love, jungwoo realized.

“that’s what you meant,” jungwoo states his epiphany out loud and he stands up. he brushes off any dirt from his pants and begins to walk towards the house, knowing that whatever happens on the front lawn would heal more than harm.

you look at your best friend in confusion, but he plasters a grin on his face and looks in your direction before turning to jaehyun. “you need to stop being such a wuss.” and he’s back inside the house.

“it seems like everyone’s mission is to cut me off today, and it’s getting a little aggravating,” he tries to joke and you just stare at him in silence. he takes it as an, “i don’t care, just talk,” and begins his tangent.

“i broke things off with you because i was scared,” he begins. you follow his words with a nod, emphasizing that you’re listening to the man standing across you.

“i’ve never been in love before, and i didn’t realize how-how utterly terrifying it felt. i was close one time, but i broke things off before anything else could develop because i didn’t think i was ready for it. i felt like i was incapable of love for a while because of my stupid frat boy image, you know?” you nod in response to his rhetorical question and he begins moving towards the small bench sat on the lawn. you follow suit and sit yourself down a good distance away from him.

he talks again, this time sounding more regretful than anything. “i sometimes tell myself how idiotic i am because i let them go before. if i just had the balls to accept the fact that maybe i was falling in love, i wouldn’t have to see them roam around campus a couple months after with someone else.”

you remember briefly jaehyun’s previous relationship. it was the talk amongst your campus because the jeong jaehyun was in an actually relationship with someone. and people were making bets on how long they thought it’d last. same as they’ve been doing for your relationship with him.

“it all kind of got to me without much of a warning because like, shit, falling in love with someone meant checking your phone every 3 minutes cause you’re scared you missed their call, or calling them if they took too long to assure you they’re home safe, that kind of thing,” he smiles. “no one teaches you that.”

you chuckle dryly because he hit the nail on the coffin. no one tells you the details about being in love, only mentioning the feelings and not the irrational things you’d do for them.

jaehyun continues after he assures himself that you’re listening to his words and internally heave a relieved sigh. he was scared you were going to have things come in one ear and out the other.

“at the same time, if i kept them in my life, i wouldn’t have met you. we wouldn’t have developed a relationship, and i wouldn’t have began to fall in you,” he scoots a bit closer to you, and you let him.

“and you wouldn’t have broken my heart like this,” you retaliate and he physically winces.

“ouch. you’re not wrong though,” he smiles, dimples reappearing on his face.

“get to the point, jaehyun. it’s cold as fuck and i don’t have a jacket,” you complain when he’s silent for a little too long. you’re holding your arms now, hit by the frosty air. when he’s silent for another moment, you look up from your feet, ready to complain again. but instead, you’re met with a hoodie being pulled over your head and you’re stunned.

“when i said i was cold, i didn’t mean for you to give me your hoodie.”

“well, too bad,” he smiles widely. the hoodie smells like him, and you take in his scent. the sweater was a bit larger on you, so you begin to roll the sleeves up, pulling your arms out of the sweater paws.

“as i was saying, i realized i was falling in love with you and i was just- i don’t know, i was scared. i think i’ve said the word scared like 10 times today, but what other word is there?” he chuckles. you do the same.

“so i did what any other sane person would do and dipped. i ran away from my feelings because in my brain, it was the best thing to do. and i hurt you in the process because i was being a selfish asshole, and i’m sorry,” he finishes, you assume. as you’re thinking about how to respond, he catches you off guard with something you never thought would leave jaehyun’s mouth.

“oh, and i love you. i’m sure of it,” he declares.

and you’re crying again. as intoxicated as you were just 30 minutes ago, you swear that in that moment, you weren’t drunk on the drinks or faded from the j’s, but you were intoxicated by jaehyun.

the way he’s looking at you, the way he’s smiling at you.

he stretches out a hand in your direction, asking for your permission to take your own and grab his hand in response. his hand engulfs yours like a hug, and he intertwines his fingers with your cold ones.

“so does this mean you love me back?” he questions.

you nod, because you can’t think of anything else to say. you’re so utterly in love with him that you’re rendered speechless, you fool.

“and does this mean we can start over?” he asks, hoping for another nod.

instead, you speak. “why were you fucking someone else when i got here if you’re in love with me?”

jaehyun is now the one rendered speechless and gulps before answering. “have you ever heard of heartbreak sex?”

“isn’t that supposed to be with the one who broke your heart?”

“yeah, but if we had sex, i would only fall in love with you more.”

“and you don’t want that?”

“i do now,” he smiles.

you roll your eyes and say nothing.

“i’m sorry i hurt you.”

“you better be.”

“i promise i won’t do it again.”

“next time you do, i’m chopping off your dick in your sleep so you won’t be able to go have heartbreak sex with someone else.”

[let-me-write-shit]

Hey! Idk if u r taking requests hint if you are, can u do one where harry+y/n+bby paxton are out and about but all the sudden get swarmed by paps and then one of the cameras accidentally hit the baby and the clip goes viral and celebs and ex-1D members and stans all start coming to the defense and share stories about how awful the paps are? U don’t have to haha

A/N: Thank you so much, @gwen-and-harry, for this request! I’m sorry it took so long! Hope this is alright!

Word Count: 5,227

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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Paparazzi

The outpour of love and well-wishes after the announcement of the birth of their firstborn son was touching and comforting. Harry and Y/N were lucky to be surrounded by so many wonderful people. Still, the eagerness of the public to get the first glimpse of the newborn and the new parents began to grow. No one had seen the couple out since before their son was born and Paxton was nearly three months old, now. People were becoming desperate.

There were more and more fans outside of their house as the days passed. Y/N and Harry had people running errands for them and luckily had the help of friends and family, as well, who would stick around for a few days at a time to give them little breaks and were more than happy to get some time with the happy baby. But as the sun stayed out longer and the temperature began to rise, the new family felt the yearning for a nice summer holiday.

They’d planned it for weeks, excited to take pictures and videos of Paxton’s first time at the beach. Harry had found a perfect house with a private beach off the coast of Italy and even decided to bring along security. And even though he didn’t do it often, he thought the circumstances warranted renting a private plane to take them to the beautiful country.

Harry and Y/N were very cautious in showing any images of their baby. No one, aside from close friends and family, even knew of his name. Having been the victims of stalking, they didn’t want their son to be subjected to that and tried everything in their power to protect their child. There were brief moments when it was typical for it to be vacant outside their home, so they planned their escape down to the minute; bags loaded in the car from the night before, and two security guards standing by to rush them to the car.

Paxton was already buckled into his infant car seat and kicking along, happily, as Y/N cooed at him, dangling toys and pinching his chubby legs while Harry peered out of the window, waiting until the coast was clear. She noticed her husband straighten up more just before the security guard said, “Let’s go.”

Harry hoisted the brown leather diaper bag further up his shoulders and tossed a muslin blanket over the top of the car seat to cover Paxton, just in case anyone happened to see them. He took hold of the car seat and carried his baby out to the car as swiftly as he could while Y/N followed closely behind him. It took two minutes for everyone to get settled in and pull out of the driveway before they felt like they could breathe a sigh of relief.

Y/N and Harry shared a look of burden. The lengths they had to take just to keep a bit of privacy and normalcy was insane. And still, they weren’t out of the woods yet. Although they were flying privately, they still needed to drive to the main airport where their plane would depart from a strip off to the side. Everything seemed to be alright, so far. Usually, Harry could tell if it were going to be crazy if there were cars of fans chasing them, and that was not the case, so he let his guard down.

But, as they approached the backup in the car queue through the airport terminals, they slowly came to realize that this wasn’t going to be as easy as they anticipated. They were at a standstill for over ten minutes, unmoving, with cars honking loudly around them. It seemed that there was roadwork on a few of the lanes ahead that caused a jam. Quickly, they had to make a decision that they didn’t miss check-in with their pilot.

After much deliberation, they decided that the only solution would be that Harry, Y/N, and their baby would have to walk down the strip accompanied by one of the security guards while the other security guard continued with the car and would eventually meet them at the plane with all of their luggage. Y/N couldn’t stay stuck in traffic, her claustrophobia was already starting to make her panic. The fresh air would do them all some good, and besides, there weren’t an overwhelming amount of people walking along outside. Most people were in a rush to get in. They thought they’d be able to handle it.

Poor Paxton was fast asleep, but it was a pretty far distance to be lugging a heavy car seat while trying to walk as quickly and discreetly as possible down the sidewalk to reach the end where their terminal would be. At least by carrying him, if someone did recognize them, they’d be able to shield their son better.

Gently, Harry unfastened the buckles from Paxton’s car seat and slipped him out, passing him over to Y/N without waking him. It was warm out, but Y/N made sure to wrap Paxton loosely in the thin muslin cloth and cover his face enough so that he could breathe well against her chest, but his face couldn’t be seen. The couple made sure to wear their sunglasses and Harry took hold of the leather diaper bag before the security guard jumped out and opened the door for them.

Quickly, they started making their way down the sidewalk, heads down to not call attention to themselves, and following their security guard’s strides who was barely a step ahead of them. Horns blared and echoed around them, stuffy fumes from car engines congested the area. For a moment, Harry thought they might actually get through unrecognized. But that quickly came to prove wrong.

It always started as just a feeling of being watched before turning into a slightly louder buzzing as people, wondering if it was really him, began to mutter. This then turned into a few shouts and calls. He ignored the first few calls until he realized that too many people started to notice. He turned, smiled, and waved at them as he continued. This usually satisfied fans enough to not follow him. But then he saw it. The cluster of cameras. Paparazzi.

They looked shocked to see him, at first. He guessed they were likely here for someone else at first and he was just a bonus. Just his luck. The security guard tightened his gap and Y/N felt a hand on the middle of her back as Harry protectively pushed her along so they could keep moving faster. Still, they were already halfway there and it wasn’t more than they were used to.

However, more people became increasingly aware that not only was Harry Styles there, but also his wife and newborn baby. Harry always had a good relationship with the paparazzi, but the incitement to get the first look at their son was causing them to swarm the new parents.

“Harry, how does it feel to be a dad?”

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Harry, does he look just like you?”

“Can we see?”

The questions were never-ending and almost too hard to hear as everyone talked at once. Surrounded by not only paparazzi but also curious fans, it became harder to move. Their security guard did his best to keep everyone at bay and to keep moving forward, but it soon became too crowded to move. Y/N held her baby closer to her chest as he began to wriggle and squirm from all the noise, sharing a brief look of concern with Harry who tried his best to remain calm and friendly while also trying to make way for his family out of the ring of paps that surrounded them who became more aggressive with their questions, closing in on them.

Cameras started bumping together, voices became louder, and the paparazzi began to shove each other, fighting to get closer to the celeb. Some fans began to notice how reckless they were becoming and started to yell at paparazzi along with the security guard who was still trying to push through to make room for them, only inching their way forward now.

“Back up, they have a baby!” a few girls screams were muffled behind the shouts of the paps.

Paxton was wiggling more now and started to whimper as Y/N and her husband were being yelled at in all directions. Y/N could feel paps nudging her back, getting too close for comfort. When the security guard noticed, he’d yell at them, but there wasn’t much he could do. He was only one person against dozens of others. Her claustrophobia was in full swing and her heart began racing, breath becoming more of a pant. She felt a tug on her shirt followed by a deep voice beckoning, “Come on, let us get a look at the happy family.” They had gotten bolder in touching her purposefully.

Y/N spun around, “Please don’t touch me,” she yelped.

Lights started to flash in her face and she felt a hand tug at the muslin cloth that was protecting her son. Instinctively she swatted at the hand and pulled her son in tighter, shouting, “Don’t touch him!”

Harry turned, protectively shielding his wife and son, urging her in front of him, fans still yelling as another pap shoved his camera in between them so hard that he managed to whack the top of Paxton’s head with his flash attachment, causing the baby to flail and burst into wails, sobbing into Y/N’s chest at an ear-piercing level.

Before Y/N of the security guard could even react, Harry leaped at the pap, shoving him backward, and began screaming at him so ferociously that it created a momentary standstill. No one had ever seen Harry so angry before.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, eh?! That’s my baby, you fuckin’ dickhead!” Harry’s accent became thick with rage, shoving the startled man’s chest which made him back away.

“I didn’t do anything! I didn’t do anything!” the pap could be heard saying, shrinking away.

A few other paparazzi were taking the side of the pap and snapping pictures and videos of the incident while most yelled along with Harry as well as fans. Harry kept at him, screaming even louder and angrier, “You smashed my sons head with your fuckin’ piece of shit camera,” he yanked the camera out of the pap’s hands and chucked it to the ground, a few pieces breaking off and sliding every which way, continuing to shove the pap back while the security guard tried his hardest to contain the situation and get people to back off.

“Harry! Please!” Y/N cried, her heart pounding in panic and on the verge of tears.

Harry was seething, glaring at the pap who had backed away, nervously, before the awareness that Harry was surrounded by people, most with their phones out, started to sink in. The crowd had given them some more space now, and he looked back to see the concern on his wife’s face as she bounced and patted the back of their crying son in her arms in an attempt to console him.

With one last scowl at the offender, Harry hissed, “Don’t come near my family again.”

He picked up the brown leather diaper bag off of the ground; he must have dropped it during his fit. Hiking it back up his shoulders, he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist as the security guard led them away from the crowd, fans calling their support after them and continuing to yell at the paparazzi.

The rest of the walk was silent, still too rattled by the situation to find the words to say. By the time they reached and boarded the plane, Paxton had fallen back asleep and it didn’t take long for their other security guard to reach them.Should have just stayed in the car, Y/N thought, getting settled in a seat with her son, She loosened the muslin blanket around his face, but not too much to disturb his sleep. Harry stayed towards the front of the plane, barely out of earshot, to talk to the security after their belongings were loaded.

A few minutes in, Harry could be heard raising his voice at them, angry about how the situation was handled. Y/N winced, trying not to listen in as she kept her attention down at her son who was suckling on the inside of his cheeks as he slept. It was almost time to feed him, but Harry still had the diaper bag. She felt bad for the security, there wasn’t much they could do, and she knew Harry was only yelling because he was upset that his son was in danger. It wasn’t like Harry to take things out on other people, but he had become increasingly protective since becoming a dad.

Moments later, Harry and the two security guards made their way back, and although Harry still looked tense, Y/N could tell that they had talked things out and was willing to bet that Harry apologized to them, too. It still didn’t make her husband any less angry. He plopped in the seat beside his wife with an exaggerated sigh and leaned over to get a good look at his sin, gently pushing the muslin cloth away as he ran his hand over the baby’s soft, fuzzy head. A splotch of raised red skin could be seen forming from where the camera had hit him.

Y/N snapped her attention to her husband and saw the distress stretch across his face and with an overwhelmed frown he said, “I better take a picture of this. Just in case,” and he pulled his phone out from his pocket.

She knew what he meant. Just in case that pap wanted to press charges for destruction of property or assault. If he did decide to press charges, there’s no way he would win. There’s more than enough photographic and video evidence of the assault on their baby. But over the years they had learned that they could never be too careful.

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, and the pilot and flight attendant introduced themselves, checked ID, and went over safety procedures before the plane started down the runway. Harry stared down at his son the entire time, not letting go of his tiny hand that was wrapped around his middle finger. Y/N knew how worried he was feeling, and with an understanding smile, she carefully passed him their baby.

She grinned as Harry shushed him back to sleep when he began stirring, stroking his cheeks in total adoration of the little boy he held in his arms. His heart ached as he caressed the red splotch at the crown of the baby’s head, angry that grown adults would act in such a way, especially in the presence of a child.

“Do you think we should get a doctor to look at him?” he asked as their plane ascended.

Y/N nodded her head, “I think he’s fine but better safe than sorry. We’ll take care of it tomorrow. I think we all need to relax when we get there. It’s been a long morning.”

It wasn’t a long flight to Italy, but it wasn’t calming, either. Y/N fed Paxton while Harry fretted about the flurry of texts and missed calls he was bound to have by his managers, PR, and legal team, certain that videos and pictures will have been released by then. And just like he predicted, they landed to nearly thirty missed messages of all sorts, including links to articles titled, ‘Harry Styles Attacks Paparazzi Outside of London Airport’. They couldn’t bring themselves to open or read any of it, but Harry did spend a majority of their nearly thirty-minute car journey on a conference call with his team talking about the situation and discussing ways with which they could handle it.

Harry cut in after a while, saying, “Alright, listen. I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be on holiday with my family. Can someone please make an appointment with a doctor out here to look at my son tomorrow and text me the details? We’ll talk about this another time.”

Harry wasn’t assertive a lot, but when he was, it always turned Y/N on. She kissed his cheek with a grin as he hung up the phone and squeezed his hand. His mom and sister were one of the many who had texted them after seeing the news and they made a quick FaceTime call to them, venting about the encounter and reassuring them that Paxton was fine, showing them the sweet baby’s face when they finally pulled up to the vacation rental and ended the call.

It was just after noon when they arrived at the house, and instead of unpacking, everyone left their luggage by the front door and took the food they had picked up from a drive-thru on the patio by the pool where they overlooked a beautiful, private beach lined with white sand and water the most beautiful shade of blue. Harry bounced a cooing baby on his lap while they ate. The couple silenced their phones, trying their hardest to avoid the onslaught of calls and messages they were bound to receive.

After lunch, everyone finally put their things away, got changed into their bathing suits, and headed to the pool for their first swim of the year. For just a few hours the coupe was able to forget about the inevitable problem they were facing and enjoyed their time together as a family.

Paxton seemed to enjoy the water once he warmed up to it, screeching joyfully and splashing at the surface while mummy and daddy took turns holding him and pushing him in the inflatable raft they brought. They laughed at the baby boy’s reaction to getting water droplets on his face and all the noises that escaped his tiny lips.

They stayed in the pool until nightfall when they wrapped themselves in towels and sat around the fire pit to keep warm while one of the security guards left to pick up dinner for everyone. Normally, Harry would feel bad for having someone else get him food, but given the circumstances, he felt it was for the best.

He looked over at his wife, her eyes red and irritated from the chlorine, and the high points of her face sunkissed from the warm, Italian sun. Her hair was slicked back, though that didn’t stop Paxton from getting a hold of a chunk of her hair and tugging as she fed him. Harry’s smile started to face into a frown when he noticed the red splotch on the crown of his son’s head was not tinged a blue-ish purple. It had started to bruise.

Y/N noticed her husband’s silence, and with an understanding and reassuring squeeze to his hand, she softly said, “He’s okay, Bub. Just a little sore when you touch it, but still a happy boy.”

“I know,” he nodded, “Still pisses me off that it even happened, though. I should go see if anyone was able to make an appointment for him, yet.”

He ambled off inside to find his phone that he left on the nightstand, ignoring all of his notifications and going right to his assistant’s texts to see the information of the doctor that was kind enough to agree to come to them tomorrow morning and take a look at Paxton. He did a quick background search on the doctor, pleased to find that she had come highly trained and recommended, and he sighed a breath of relief.

He then decided to take a look at some of these notifications, a little worried about the backlash he might have received. But, he was surprised to see the response of support and even shocked by some of the names that had reached out to him or spoke up about the fight.

The first people he noticed were his mom and sister who both made and shared an Instagram text post that read, ‘There is a lot that you have to deal with and compromise on when you have a fanbase or a following, and one of those things is privacy. It’s something so many of us take for granted, and so far, Harry and his lovely wife have taken it in stride, rarely complaining. They’re aware, just like the rest of us, that being a ‘celebrity’ and the lack of privacy in his line of work is an unfortunate given. However, when the safety and privacy of a newborn child are at risk, this type of behavior can become extremely dangerous. There is a time and place for paparazzi, and hurting a child to get a few snapshots is deplorable. Change needs to happen’. In the caption of the photo, there was a petition link that called for adjustments on laws when it came to paparazzi and children.

A lump formed in Harry’s throat as he read, reliving the moment his son had gotten hurt a mere few hours ago. There was so much running through his head. He felt like an idiot for losing his temper, he should have known not to lash out like that, especially when there were so many cameras out. He was pissed that the paparazzi put him in a situation where he felt like lashing out was his only option. He was upset that he couldn’t enjoy their first vacation as a family with their new baby because he was too worried that people might spot him. He was scared for the future of his son, worried that he’d have to look over his shoulder every step of the way to make sure his son could have even just a shot at living a semi-normal life. And he was grateful for the support of his family and for them speaking out and trying to invoke change.

As he scrolled through his notifications more, he saw that Lizzo had also posted a video to Instagram and tagged him in it. He played the video and chuckled, feeling comforted, when her face popped on the screen, shouting, “If y'all don’t leave my baby daddy, Harry, and my sister-wife, Y/N, alone! They had a baby with them! Like this child is basically straight out the womb, and y’all sick motherfuckers are out here grabbin’ on ‘em just to try and take a picture?! A picture?!” she looked disgusted as she shook her head, “These paparazzi are getting bolder every day. This shit needs to stop. I need each and every one of you to click the link on my bio. Things need to change. Yesterday.”

He went to her page and saw the same link that Gemma and his mom had posted to their story. And that wasn’t all. As he continued to go through his notifications, he saw that he had been tagged onto one of Niall’s tweets a ton. He opened the link to see what Niall had written.

‘Absolutely disgusted to see what happened to my friend @Harry_Styles, his lovely wife @Y/N, and their little lad today. Truly criminal that these paparazzi can do things like this with little to no repercussion. I’m so sorry the two of ya had to go through that. Absolutely fuming for ya.’

With a tight-lipped grin, Harry nodded and made a mental note to text Niall later and thank him. For now, he pocketed his phone and rejoined his wife outside who had just finished feeding Paxton and putting him in a portable rocker beside her to nap, her feet propped up by the edge of the fire, wiggling her toes in the warmth. He kissed her forehead before taking his seat on the other side of her, informing her of the response, so far, of the day’s events.

Throughout the week, more and more people had started to speak up. The doctor had come around to take a once-over of Baby Styles, deeming him healthy, just bruised, and leaving them to enjoy their vacation, utterly astonished by the number of people who had spoken out to condemn the paparazzi and share their experience.

Louis had called him shortly after the doctor had left while they were on the beach. Paxton was screeching on his tummy, holding his head up and beating his chubby fists into the sand. Harry watched his wife smiling and clacking at her baby, completely smitten by the two of them, as he and Louis caught up. The last time they talked was when Louis congratulated them on the birth of his son. This time, Louis called to make sure they were doing alright. Harry was still trending online and, being a father himself, he knew how upsetting it was when your kid was brought up in the media. Especially when they had to deal with the repercussions of the paparazzi.

“Man, it just blows my mind the shit these low-lives can get away with. Please tell me you’re gonna press charges, mate,” Louis seared.

Harry groaned, “I don’t think I can, mate. I broke his camera and shoved him. We’re pretty much even.”

“Even?” Louis repeated, “Mate, he hurt a baby. He’s done much worse than you did!”

“Not according to the law, man. Not really. Besides, he’s fine. Just a bruise, thank God. Was more worried about, Y/N, if I’m honest,” he whispered, trying not to let his wife hear, “You should have seen her. Thought she was going to have a panic attack because of her claustrophobia.”

Louis tutted and sighed, “Poor lass. She's alright now, though, yeah?”

“We’re on the beach, so she couldn’t be happier,” Harry laughed, watching as Paxton gazed in awe at the little sandcastle Y/N had just made.

They had received texts from friends, like Mitch and Sarah, who made sure that they and the baby were alright as well as posted a link to the petition. Big-name celebrities with kids, like Chrissy Teigen and John Legend, as well as Hilary Duff and Matthew Koma, had also come forward in light of the issue to share their experiences of being paparazzi’d with kids. He’d never had the pleasure of meeting them, but was sure to send them messages of thanks.

Ariana Grande had tweeted ‘Sending my love to the Styles Family. It’s scary when you can’t walk down the street with a newborn without being harassed. Please sign the petition to finally start holding those who cross the line accountable.’

Liam Payne texted Harry and mentioned it in one of his Instagram Live videos when asked by fans saying, “Yeah, I spoke to him. Apparently, the guy had bruised the poor baby’s head, but he’s doing alright. They’re a bit shaken by the whole thing, I don’t blame them. It’s-It’s just sad, you know? For all the years I’ve known Harry, he’s the last one to get rattled to the point of fighting someone I’ve met Y/N a few times and well and she was always kind and easy-going. But when you’re worried about the safety of your wife and child, I don’t think anyone could say they’d just sit back and take it. You’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”

James Corden dedicated a segment in his show talking about the dangers of paparazzi and his own experiences with being harassed, including the time he was out with his son, and Harry joined them.

“To see, very early on in his career, the amount of people that followed his every step- I mean, he was only with us for a couple of hours and it got so crazy that after thirty minutes I had to have Harry walk a bit ahead of us so that the paparazzi wouldn’t swarm my son. By the end of the day, we were exhausted. I can’t even imagine having to deal with that daily. I know how I felt about it at the time and my son was older. We were a bit more comfortable as parents. But these two have their first, brand new baby. The idea of leaving your house for the first time as new parents and being hounded by volatile people who have no care for anyone but themselves is terrifying. My heart goes out to him and his family,” he finished.

Dozens more came out of the gate to condemn careless paparazzi, but probably the most surprising of them all was Gigi Hadid.

It was no secret that Harry and the model had a strained relationship that dated back to the drama surrounding Zayn’s departure from One Direction. The two never really cared to get to know one another and there was always some unsaid animosity in between them for whatever reason. He never had anything against her. Still, it was there. So, when she spoke out in defense of Harry’s actions, it was in headlines everywhere.

Gigi was very vocal about it on all of her social media platforms, writing rants on Twitter, text posts on Instagram, and even making videos saying, “You know, it’s just disgusting how celebrities can be stalked and harassed every single day by people like these paparazzi and the response is always ‘well, that’s what you signed up for’. It never made sense to me. Like, why is it considered normal? Why does it have to ‘come with the territory?’ These celebrities didn’t sign up to have their lives picked through with a fine-tooth comb. Especially not their spouses or children. They don’t deserve to be harassed or stalked just because of who they fell in love with or made a family with. A lot of people forget that celebrities are just humans.

We’re normal people with abnormal jobs. My job is to model. Harry’s job is to sing. We shouldn’t be in fear to step out of our house that day, afraid of being stalked or our children being hit in the heads with fucking cameras. I’m no stranger to how dangerous and scary paps can be, and since becoming a mom myself, I’m even more cautious. We hardly leave our house. We have so much security it’s unreal. We shouldn’t have to live like this.

Having fans come up to us in the streets and saying hi or taking pictures with us is one thing, but to have these paps shoving their camera in a child’s face, blocking our way out, and endangering them is something else entirely. Paparazzi need to be held to a higher standard and they need to be held accountable. I really feel for them.”

By the end of their vacation, there was so much positive support from fans and other celebs that Harry and Y/N was feeling overwhelmed with love. They both reached out, personally and privately, to as many people as they could to thank them for speaking out and signing the petition. Their team decided that a simple response, in true Harry fashion, would be best. On Instagram, he posted a picture of Paxton’s sandy feet and captioned it,

‘All Is Well. Thank you. With Love, H.’

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

Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwen-and-harry

[cabinofimagines]

Reyna’s ABCs

A/N: Guys I’m so in love with Reyna -Danny

Request: Hey! Can I request an ABC list for Reyna? Idk if they're only for the 7 and if so, sorry for wasting your time. Have a great day! // Can you please do Reyna ABC’s? I can never find Reyna content // Reyna ABC’s please?

Words: 1,370

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

I see Reyna as the kind of gal who would spoil you. Just name it. Whatever it is you wanna do she’s in, she��s got you, food? Movies? Don’t worry babe she already has five places on her list that she’s sure you’ll love

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She really likes your eyes and it’s going to sound kinda cheesy but she’s also a big fan of you’re personality and sense of humor, she just can’t get enough of you  

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

She’s a natural leader, therefore, she knows exactly what to do to get you back on your feet, she’s learnt to read you like a pro and know exactly the kind of stuff that will keep you going. She might even use a bit of her power to give you the strenght to finish your day and then cuddle with you for the rest of the night.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She sees a house on some place warm, probably a bunch of dogs, a life when you two can relish on being together and have nothing to worry about or feel ashamed of, she sees a quiet life, where you are her favourite constant.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

Oh man, oh shit, Reyna tends to be controlling even without trying, it’s just the power she carries in her, you know? She definitely is the dominant one, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t melt at the sight of you.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

It’s hard for her to stop being angry, sometimes turns brutally cold and distant, but she always apologizes properly, or if it’s you who messed up, she always treats you gently afterwards so you know she still loves you

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Reyna’s had a rough life, she might get distracted in the heat of the moment but at the end of the day she’s always there kissing you good night and reminding you how special you are in her life. She never stops trying.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

When it comes to her “normal” life Reyna is an open book after a while of dating you, however, I think she prefers to keep her work to herself and forget about it while she’s with you.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

She’s a bit more chill after knowing you, she doesn’t feel as pressured as before to be perfect and that’s a huge relief to her. You’ve changed too, became a bit more daring and just a tad sporty, but really, Reyna is better with the whole “healthy stuff” 

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Nah man, perhaps during the whole ‘are we flirting, do they like me?’ part she was jealous of random people approaching you and making you laugh, but once you start dating she knows she’s got you and no one can change that. (Unless you decide otherwise, ofc) 

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

REYNA IS SUCH A GOOD KISSER OMG I BEG YOU MA’AM JUST ONE SMOOCH WOULD BE ENOUGH

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Probably came out stiff and awkward but she asked you out in one try. Her shoulders relaxed instantly the moment you smiled and said yes. She was so scared but won’t admit it lmao

Memory - What’s their favourite memory together?

Probably the first time you told her you love her. She felt overwhelmed and just couldn’t believe what you said until you repeated like five times. That’s when people started to say her eyes had a new brightness in them.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Amor” probably, “sweetheart” when she’s teasing.

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

No one had a fucking clue she liked you until suddenly you two are dating and everyone was like ??? It’s not like he ever tried to hide it though, it’s more on her actions or words that you can really tell she likes someone.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Not that she’s shy, she just doesn’t like others around when she’s being all cute with her partner. She likes to have privacy, feels that way it feels more special when she gets to kiss you.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Reyna CAN DANCE. She’s latina, she was born with them good steps. Definitely made you fall for her during a night out dancing in the middle of the street. 

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

I think she’s the kind to be ‘I worship you’ about her s/o, treats you like a unique treasure and at the same time it’s like she’s just hanging out with her best friend. Funny combination but it works perfectly.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She’s a ride or die. Will judge you a bit if your decisions feel a tad impulsive or not like something you would do on a normal day. Probably will interrogate you as to why you decide to do something that feels too rash. However, if you manage to prove you’re not crazy lmao, she’s 100% there to support you.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

I feel like we’re answering this the same way with everyone but tbh that’s demigods for you lmao they really just want a break. Maybe she likes to plan a few trips from time to time just to take you to meet places, but most of the year is spent in a comfortable, calming routine.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Feelings are a tricky thing for her, but she’s memorized every little thing about you, so all she has to do is ask “how are you feeling?” and “can i help you?” and she’ll know how to procceed right after you give her an answer. But communication is key, Reyna isn’t a mind reader and she will need you to help her a bit.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Very important. You’re her family now.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Reyna’s favourite thing to do when she’s feeling down is lay her head on your lap and let you braid her hair while watching shitty actions movies.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I’d say she likes it a healthy amount, but not very affectionate in public unless you ask for it.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

She pours herself in her wrk and tries not to get too worry, you can take care of yourself and she’ll see you soon, that’s her mantra.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

She’s prepared to do sacrificies, but definitely not the kind who would throw away everything just to keep you happy, her opinion is that a healthy relationship should meet half-way.

Taglist:   @beneaththeiceandsnow​  @bandshirts-andbooks​ @smileitsisa 

[littlemisslipbalm]

“you get me” (famous!y/n x harry)

Famous!y/n x Harry Styles

First Harry fic so please be kind, but feedback is SUPER appreciated

Initially inspired by the picture of Harry leaving the Gucci store with 15 bags but barely has anything to do with that lol

Definitely thought of Ellen for the interview idk why tho - also I struggle with writing Harry’s dialogue because I really want to get it right, but hopefully the more practice I get, the better/more natural it will sound. ALSO i have like no music or music industry background lol. Somewhat proofread, but its 2:30 am so it could be shit

Fluff!

Warnings: maybe some angst over being famous per say, past loneliness

Word Count: 3.7k literally howwww, i’m going to do a pt. 2 though because it was kind of a long set up and feelingsssss

---

Interviewer: Please, welcome our next guest, a woman who’s sure to have her name written up beside the music greats someday, Ms. Y/N L/N!

You can’t contain the grin that spreads to your face as you carry yourself out onto the stage and see the audience cheering for you. It was your third big interview since your first album had been released and you’d seen your fame skyrocket over night. This being the third one this week meant you’d gotten comfortable getting asked questions, but you also weren’t bored of it yet. It was exhilarating being the center of attention, especially for something that had been your life’s work up until this point. You always had to fight for whatever you got and the recognition you were starting to have was reassurance that you hadn’t been a fool to risk a safe and certain life for your dreams.

The interview begins as the rest had, a few pleasantries, how you were feeling, and then the introduction of the album. The host asked you what your inspiration was for some of the songs and the album name and cover. You loved to talk about the music, it was the whole reason you were there. The meaning, the sound, the name, it all meant so much to you and you talked about how music can be interpreted differently by everyone and even the shifts in someone’s mood can change a song’s meaning, but what it meant to you at the time of writing was always something specific. You practiced those answers in the mirror before the interviews because they were important to you and you didn’t want your words on your art to ever be misconstrued. The host then complimented your style and you were at the point where you thought your interview should be wrapping up when they asked you one more question, and it threw you for a loop.

Interviewer: So Y/N, we’ve been hearing some rumblings around, about you and another famous musician, Mr. Harry Styles. Anything going on there?

Your face heated up, you hadn’t been expecting a personal question about possible relationships. Nothing like this had been asked of you at your previous interviews. It’s about the music, the art, and who you were, it’s always about that and nothing more. To be honest, you were a bit annoyed the host had chosen to stray from those topics. You didn’t care for the celebrity side of being a famous musician, the lack of privacy, the prying eyes of media and the general public. They saw enough of you through your art, you bore your soul through music why did they want to peak into your heart as well?

Y/N: I don’t know if I’d rather be with Harry Styles or actually be Harry Styles. Like, he’s literally such an icon, I want to be able to walk out of a Gucci store after spending hours there with 15 bags full of my purchases and helpers to carry it all out c’mon… He’s also an amazing songwriter, musician, and performer, of course. Didn’t mean to sound superficial, but I’d also love to own even half of his closet.

You hadn’t really answered the question, but the audience laughed and the host obviously got the hint that you weren’t interested in fanning any flames of romance with Harry Styles or anyone else. For one, you didn’t even know the man, but you had always been a loving fan of his. You cited him as one of your role models when you were first starting to try and break into the music world. Second, if you did know him, that wouldn’t be an appropriate topic for your album press junket going on, even if it meant more publicity because of Harry’s big celebrity status. The host decided to qualify their original question with a final sentiment.

Interviewer: I totally feel the same way! I only ask because the outpouring of support you’ve received seems to be from similar groups who also follow Harry. Many have been comparing your sound to his solo career work.

Y/N: Ah...well that’s very kind of people to say. He’s definitely a big inspiration, his creativity and drive is incredible. I’d love to be as successful as him someday.

The interview ended. You and the host shook hands and you waved and sent kisses to the crowd before retreating backstage. You were exhausted, but happy. You hoped to avoid anymore stressful interview questions that didn’t truly revolve around music. Of course, life is never that simple.

-

One month later

You had done countless more interviews and talk shows as promo for your album and the buzz around it had continued to grow. Your fame continued to rise as well and that one question you had dodged at your third interview had come back around to bite you, naturally. Daily Mail’s dumb headline read: “Y/N can’t decide! Date Harry Styles or Steal His Closet?” The Sun was also running with your response and miscontruing it completely, something about how you were madly in love with Harry but jealous of his designer partnerships, you couldn’t even stomach reading the garbage. This was your worst nightmare. Not only was it taking away the focus from your album, but you were also sure this dumb gossip had reached the very set of ears that the gossip was allegedly also about.

You had signed with Columbia Records for your first album, the same record label as Harry Styles, so managers had been in contact with one another about the whole fiasco trying to get the actual truth - which was that the two of you didn’t even know each other and there were no problems whatsoever. Your manager also brought along the good news that Harry had actually listened to your album and loved it, “He said ‘Congratulations’ by the way, loved the sound. Said he’d heard you were very music focused and be open to do some mentoring on songwriting and vocal specifics, if you wanted. It’d have to be in private though, obviously.” She had added the last bit, but you understood why. To have the opportunity to discuss your music with one of your longtime role models, heroes even, was beyond anything you could have imagined coming from your album’s success. And it made the drama all the more palatable because now you at least got to talk to Harry like the media was so adamantly saying you were doing already.

You nodded quickly and agreed, while trying to keep your teenage fangirl excitement hidden below your mature now-famous musician facade. Like you said, Harry was your hero, he’d been your hero since you were in middle school and had Up All Night downloaded on your iPod touch, blasting it as loud as possible, sound hitting your poster-filled walls. You weren’t the same girl as you were then, obviously, you had grown up to be a strong, independent, and confident woman. But, you still smiled at the thought of your younger self with your baby face squealing in the nosebleeds at the Take Me Home Tour (where you swore Harry had looked straight at you) and her seeing you now, dressed in a sleek outfit setting up an appointment to meet with Harry to discuss your first album, a success.

-

The next Thursday evening

You took a deep breath, in through your nose and out through your pursed lips. You were anxious and excited at the exact same time. Your meeting with Harry was tonight, right now actually, and you hadn’t been able to think about much else since your manager had confirmed the meeting last week. She got you the details a couple of days ago, the location: his house in Malibu, the time: 5:45 P.M. You had brought along a copy of your album on vinyl because you thought it sounded best this way, second only to performing it live.

Choosing your outfit for tonight was probably the toughest decision you’d ever made, harder than choosing between an education and following your dreams, harder than choosing your favorite Beatles song. You didn’t want to worry so much, this wasn’t a date you kept reminding yourself, but everything you tried on earlier kept having something wrong with it, too dressy, too boring, too ‘not yourself’. You had settled for these blue high-waisted pants that you’d worn to your first ever podcast interview, a thin black long sleeve, and a brown leather coat that fell below your hips with vans sneakers, casual, simple, yet still true to you and your vibe.

You raised your free arm and formed a fist, hesitant to knock, as if you’d damage Harry’s seemingly perfect Malibu beachfront home by knocking too hard on the wooden front door. You waited a few moments and could here some shuffling behind the door, some incoherent words were seemingly said, but the walls muffled them before they could reach for ears. Soon enough, Harry Styles in the flesh was before you. He beamed down at you, huffing, slightly out of breath as if he had been clear across the house when you knocked. His strong figure towered above your far smaller stature. He was hanging onto the door since he had opened it only slightly. “Hello, Y/N?” he greeted and questioned simultaneously. “Hi,” you responded and extended the same hand that had just rapped against his now open door. He gripped it, ushering you into his home, “Come in, come in, it’s nice to meet you, don’t want you to catch a cold now do we?” He took note of your strong handshake and ring clad fingers.

He walked you into an area between the kitchen and a sitting area. The kitchen was open aside from a bar high top between the two rooms. You sat down at his prompting and made yourself comfortable. “I brought my record on vinyl, sounds best in my opinion, otherwise I’d recommend seeing it live,” you laughed as you handed the vinyl to him and took off your coat. “Technically, y’know, I could hear it live right now, if you were willin’ f’course,” Harry had responded over his shoulder as he placed the vinyl by his idle record player, “Anything to drink?” “Just water for me, please.” His accent was even stronger in person, especially since he had moved back to London and seldomly stayed in California, except for business and quick trips. As far as you knew, he had already been here on business for the week and was able to pencil you in.

You two settled in, with your waters, seated at the bar top beside each other, but swivelling the chairs to face one another more. Again, you were overwhelmed with the reality of the situation, sitting beside Harry Styles as professionals, peers even. He had heard your work and liked it enough to want to discuss it with you. It was a day you never thought would come to pass. He started off not by asking about the music right away, but about how you were doing with the whirlwind that stardom is. “How are you, Y/N? It’s been somewhat of a out of the frying pan into the fire kind of moment for you?” He stared at you intently, caring to hear your answer.

You couldn’t help but chuckle again and contain your smile, “Thank you for asking, Harry. Yeah, its been definitely stressful, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more so the good is still outweighing any bad. Definitely, fucking exhausted though, dunno how many more interviews I can do before my jaw goes completely rigid from talking so much.” It’s Harry’s turn to laugh, his eyes shone with intrigue at what you said and how you said it. You were gorgeous, but it was how your hands helped you through what you were trying to say and the small laughs you tried to keep in while you amused yourself with your words that really made him want to hear you talk all night long.

He agreed about how the promo junket for an album can get tedious and tiresome, but also the absolute fulfillment you get from people loving the music you’ve made. The two of you chatted about surface level personal matters for a little more, but quickly moved to the music. “I took a listen a couple weeks after the album was released. I especially loved the last track. It reminded me so much of a song I never released, actually…” he trailed off.

Your final track had been a ballad, an homage to George Harrison with your use of guitar and sitar, but the lyrics were a story based off of a poem you had written one night in high school. It surrounded a girl never feeling quite good enough for the person she wanted to be with and how it happened everytime, everytime she was ready to giver herself to someone, they were always closed off. Of course it held some truth to your own life and feelings, but you wrote this girl as someone with a seemingly perfect life - when yours was obviously far from any semblance of perfection.

You wondered what Harry’s song would have sounded like, had it been about a seemingly perfect girl or a guy with a seemingly perfect life, always giving himself to the wrong person and getting destroyed by that very fact because he was impatient as the girl in your song had been. “Can I ask, how so? How’d it remind you of your own song, the words or the music?” “Oh, the story, I felt like that for a time in my life and I like to be vulnerable in my songs because it helps me process, but listening to it back has always been too painful. Could never release that or perform it, it’d wreck me.” You nodded, you completely got where he was coming from. You noticed his downcast eyes and his somber tone, you knew not to push it any further.

It was quiet and you decided it’d be okay to take his hand resting between the two of you. “Harry, I understand,” your sincerity spilled into the words, filling the quiet house, “It’s not easy. Feeling that way. Thinking you’re the only goddamn one and why the fuck does it always happen to you? I used to ask my ceiling ‘why me?’ every night of high school” you smiled then. “But you know how it is,” you rubbed your thumb over his large warm hand and he lifted his head, “it gets so much better - c’mon look at us now! It can get hard, too, all this, I’m sure. But our lives? They’re amazing!” He beamed as he had when he had first seen you at his door and when you’d first really spoke. He moved his hand from under your palm to weave your fingers with his, both of your hands with covered in rings and they clinked to fit together, finally resting perfectly fitted. He shook your two hands up and down, “God, you’re so right! That damn song, m’sorry always puts me in a mood,” he shakes his head, “not yours though, f’course, s’lovely, better than my sodding song” he finishes quickly.

After that, the mood lightened right back up. It filled you with such appreciation for Harry that he would trust you so much with such a personal detail since you two had just met. But maybe, he had trusted you because he had felt that same spark between you. It wasn’t necessarily a romantic spark, but it was obvious the two of you were kindred spirits. Besides your album, the two of you talked about everything. You loved the same bands, movies and books, you both loved to cook and had similar fashion taste, you even had the same person type - something you found out late into the night.

At the end of the Side B of your album, Harry switched to a Bill Evans record that had ‘Peace Piece’ on it. You loved that song. So did he. “So...planning to raid my closet?” Harry raised his brows from the record player and walked back to you. You almost sputtered the water in your mouth. Luckily, you got it down. “Pardon?” “All that bad press the two of us have been getting...I watched the interview that kind of ignited the tabloids. You’re obviously not used to those overstepping personal questions.” You nodded. “It’s fine, even if you’d completely shut it down, the tabloids probably would have picked it up still, they snap up anything and everything, true or not.” You softened at his reassurance. You hadn’t expected Harry to bring the interview up, but you were sure he wasn’t happy about it, he was so private, especially about his love life. “Thanks, I’m sorry I tried to laugh it off, kind of made it worse, didn’t I?” “No! Thought it was hilarious and I totally appreciated the sentiment. Little ol’me, an icon? And an amazing artist? All I gotta do is watch that clip and I’ve fed my narcissistic side for the week!” You giggled and replied slyly, “So does that mean I can raid your closet? As compensation, of course.” Harry threw his head back in an all consuming laughter, when he’d composed himself he looked in your eyes again and said, “You just...God, you get me.”

Harry had continued to put records on throughout the night, diligently flipping sides and asking for requests, he of course had an extensive collection. The two of you had moved onto his plush couch that looked out his french doors to the beautiful ocean view. Finally, your exhaustion caught up to you, mid-Harry describing his latest travel fiasco, you glanced up at the clock. You gasped. Harry stopped. “When did it get to be half 12?” you questioned almost incredulously, “I’ve gotta get home, Harry, but this has been truly amazing, more than I could have asked for, so thank you.” Your speech began to rush as you started to get up and gather your things, that had slowly scattered as you’d gotten more comfortable, jacket by the table, shoes around the back of the couch, your phone forgotten somewhere in the couch. You couldn’t believe you’d spent almost seven hours just talking with Harry Styles.

Harry quickly stood up from his relaxed positioned on the couch and asked if you were alright to drive this late. You scoffed, “Oh please, I’ve driven around at 3 am before, I just have to turn up the music and I can cruise.” He smiled, “This was great, Y/N, I know we didn’t really go super in depth into your writing process, but I’d love to write with you sometime or just hang out again f’course. Your seriously talented and obviously a wonderful person.” He didn’t include that he felt like he’d never met anyone like you, never met someone so perfectly matched to himself, in passions but also in work ethic and demeanor - compassionate yet confident. He felt like you got him perfectly and he got you. You had stopped your scramble to gather yourself and now you were both smiling at one another.

This had really been an unforgettable night, you couldn’t believe how well you two had meshed, like childhood friends reconnecting after years apart. “Can I give yeh a hug before you go?” Harry’s voice had grown raspier as the night had progressed. He had grown rather tired an hour ago, but had pushed through because they had been having so much fun and you hadn’t noticed his physical fading or the time, obviously. You stepped toward him and his large tattooed arms enveloped you into his body. His body truly dwarfed yours now as he held you to his chest. You both were warm and soft. He tucked his head on top of yours that rested on his chest. Your arms were loosely resting where his back met his waist because you would have had to strain to get them to encircle him. His arms rested around your small frame. “Love your jacket,” he mumbled into your hair. His rough voice was quiet, but the house was silent otherwise, Tusk Side C had finished around when you had noticed the time. The embrace lasted long, but it felt so amazing you had a hard time pulling yourself away, but you had to get back home.

“G’night Harry” you said softly at the threshold of his home. He had insisted on walking you to the front door at least, since you had declined his offer to walk you out to your car on the street. “G’night. Safe travels.”

You got in your car and headed to your apartment in the city. You didn’t bother digging for your phone so you turned on the radio and drove home singing whatever came on, including your own song at one point. The whole time you drove with a grin. Harry was the nicest person you’d ever met and you were confident that the two of you were friends now. As you pulled into your parking garage it dawned on you why you hadn’t connected your phone immediately when you got in your car. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you put the car in park and rested your palms in the depressions of your eyesockets, over your closed eyelids, and rubbed hard. “Fuck!” It was far too late to drive back out to Malibu for your phone and you obviously couldn’t text Harry that you’d left your phone at his place, despite the two of you exchanging numbers during the night for future hang outs, so they didn’t have to be arranged through your managers, like playdates. Even if he found your phone between the cushions, he couldn’t drop it at your place in the morning because he didn’t know your address. This was a whole mess, you thought. You’d have to drive over in the morning and hope he was still there or email your manager from your computer. The former meant you got to see Harry sooner and likely your phone, too.

part 2

-

@berrynarrybanana​

[schmuckyschmarnes]

little break

i’ve had to upload this so many times now idk wtf is happening, hopefully this one sticks

Summary: Bucky has a nightmare and you do your best to take care of him. Warnings: Unintentional choking, panic attacks, lots of fluff. Word Count: 3243

Bucky Barnes is screaming. It isn't an unusual occurrence, and while you wish you could say you had a plan in place for the nights you heard the sounds ripping themselves from his throat, the simple truth is that the same bundle of nerves that unfurl themselves inside of you on every other such occasion make sure that tonight is no exception. The logical part of your brain reassures you that just like every other night, he will eventually fall quiet, or wake, and to just wait it out. This argument wins out every time. But tonight is different. Tonight your legs have reached the door to your room before you can even begin to wrestle with reason. And as you tell yourself that the least you could do is give Bucky Barnes his dignity, your hand is turning the doorknob. And while you whisper to yourself that this man might never be able to look you in the eye again, which would be a considerable issue in your line of work, your feet pad along the corridor until you find yourself outside of his room, standing with one hand raised to his door.

“Bucky,” you call softly, as you enter the room.

It’s almost entirely dark. The bedside lamp is switched on, and a thin paperback lay discarded just out of reach of his right hand, the sharp metal of the left is curled tightly around a fistful of white bedsheets. His back shines with sweat, the tops of his boxers peek out from beneath the sheets, and his hair has fallen to the side of his face, obscuring it from view.

You feel every bit the intruder as you stand half in, half out, unsure of what your next move should be, firm in the belief that he would not want you to see him in this state. You take a few more steps into the room as he begins to groan, the sound clenching around your heart.

“Bucky,” you try again, louder. He doesn’t move. Your new angle allows you to notice his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. His mouth opens again in another hoarse scream and this time, you launch yourself forward.

“Bucky-”

The hand that reaches out to touch him falls limp against your side as you find yourself pinned to the wall, cold metal closing around your neck. You scramble frantically, legs swinging and hitting against the wall. It feels like hours before you grab his face between both hands and force his eyes to meet yours. He drops you instantly and you gasp for breath as quietly as you can, intent on not making this worse than it already is. His eyes, wild, blink rapidly, and with one, two, three, recognition slams into him and he falls to his knees beside you.

“Shit! Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Of course I hurt you, what am I saying, are you-”

“Bucky,” you interrupt in a raspy voice, dropping your hand from where it was rubbing your neck. “I’m okay. See?” You sit up a little more to convince him of your blatant lie.

“I didn’t think, I just felt someone there and-” His hand reaches out to touch you but he changes his mind almost immediately, dropping it to his side.

“I know, Bucky,” you say, crawling towards him to close the distance between you. “You had a stranger in your room-”

“Not a stranger,” he says, bitterly, and you can hear the self loathing thick in his voice as he turns and walks away from you, the artificial lights bathing the room at his request. It suddenly feels so mundane, not at all the place that houses his deepest hurts.

“-and you reacted, any of us would have done the same thing,” you continue, as if he hadn’t cut you off.

There was silence, and then “Why were you in here, anyway?” and you're combing through the question for any traces of anger as you bite your lip.

Do you tell him the truth?

“I…well, I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you say, looking up at him.

“You wanted- oh. I was screaming again, huh?” He asks, and a sudden exhaustion settles itself on his face.

“I mean, only a little,” you offer lightly, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“Enough to warrant a visit,” he counters with raised eyebrows and you smile sheepishly in response. “I’m sorry for waking you, I’ll talk to Tony about-”

“Bucky,” you begin. “I don’t care about the noise, shut up.” You pick yourself off of the floor and shuffle over to his bed, throwing yourself down onto it. He looks at you from the other side of the room, one hand rubbing his jaw and the other, heavy metal, hanging limply before him as if he’s afraid of what it will do when he looks away. You pat the bed and he looks at you warily without moving. You pat the bed more insistently and he finds himself walking over and flinging himself onto it so that he is laying beside you.

“Do you want to ta-”

“-No,” he replies immediately, and several feelings hit him at once. Shame, and fear, and anger, and the overwhelming thought that he is the biggest burden the universe has ever delivered, and yet, in the middle of attempting to hatch a plan to leave so that his friends would not have to be so encumbered with his issues, the fingers of his flesh hand intertwine with yours.

“Okay,” you reply simply, your thumb moving soothingly across his hand. “That’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, doll” he says, after a minute of silence. “You come here to check on me and I choke you and then I’m rude-”

“-You’re right, you gotta work on how you treat guests, you didn’t even offer me a drink,” you say, turning on your side to face him, still holding onto his hand.

He huffs at your teasing, and a second later comes back with “My mother would be appalled.” And just like that, he’s Bucky, no-effort, charming, flirty Bucky. You laugh and it fills the room. Bucky smiles at the sound. He closes his eyes, and then winces, opening them back up again so quickly you almost miss it. Almost. He lets go of your hand and reaches for your neck slowly, unsure.  You tilt your neck for him to let him know it's okay, and his fingers stroke the angry red marks gently.  You can tell he’s about to sink into a slew of self deprecation.

You push yourself up, leaning lazily against the headboard, and pull his reluctant limbs with you so that he falls between your legs, his head resting on the softness of your belly, one arm on either side of you, the same position you’d found him in when you entered the room.

You stroke his hair gently and he looks up at you as you do, his hand clenching around the excess material of your oversized sleep shirt.

“I was in the chair,” he mumbles, voice muffled against your body.

Your fingers stop their movements and your arms attempt to pull him closer once again, failing of course, until he slides his body towards you in acquiescence and the top of his head rests under your chin.

“I’m sorry that you have to relive something so horrible,” you whisper, and your hand runs down the clammy skin of his back before making its way to his neck again, you let yourself fall into the familiar repetition.

“I deserve to remember.” It’s loaded with venom.

“James,” your hand pauses its movements just as its beginning to numb, and rests where his neck meets his shoulder. He looks up at the use of his name. You press your lips to the top of his head once, lingering, before your hand resumes its travels along his back. “You’re giving yourself a hard enough time when you’re asleep, how about you give yourself a little break when you’re awake, hm?”

He mumbles, it sounds vaguely like “Ain’t no rest for the wicked”, and is interrupted by a yawn he fails miserably to stifle.  You feel the familiar clench around your heart once more. Glancing at the clock in the room, you find both hands nestled close together at the number 3.

“Hey, how about we salvage what’s left of this night?” you ask. When he only looks up at you in response, you continue. “Come on, you get in the shower so you can feel nice and fresh and we can watch some TV and no sleep will be had, how does that sound?”

“Mmph,” he replies, lolling his head dramatically against you, and you laugh as you sit up, forcing him into a sitting position with you.

“You know it’ll make you feel loads better, come on,” you say, your arms still flung loosely over his shoulders.

He whines, honest to God whines, like a child who has been asked to pack away his toys before dinner and you bite your lip to stop from laughing.

“Come on, lazy bones,” you try again, prodding his ribs, and this time he moves, albeit slowly, to swing his legs over the side of the bed.

“You’ll stay?” he asks, turning back to you, and you notice he’s not meeting your eyes.

“I’ll stay,” you promise, and it’s a second before he nods, mostly to himself, and stands up. When you hear the bathroom door open, you spring off of the bed, placing the paperback on the beside table, and begin to strip the damp sheets from the mattress and pillows. Once you’ve located a fresh set, you embrace the struggle of lifting the mattress to stretch every fitted corner against it, and before long, the bed is dressed in shades of deep plum, its soft smell warm and inviting. You bundle the old sheets together and move to leave them in the hamper when you hear it. The water is beating down relentlessly against the tile of the shower, and it almost masks the sound, but then you hear it again, an unmistakable sob.

The feeling that seizes your body when you hear Bucky’s screams takes hold of you once more. Do you let him have his privacy, or do you go and comfort him? This time, propelled by the guilt of having suggested the shower in the first place, you walk towards the bathroom and push open the door the rest of the way, to see him curled up in the corner of the shower, his head in his hands, arms on his knees, his body shaking with the force of his sobs. Your shirt is on the floor before you realise you’ve taken it off and you’re left in a crop top and underwear. You open the shower door and he looks up at you from his position on the floor, his hair sticking to his face and his eyes red.

You sit beside him and lean your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the discomfort of the water soaking your underwear almost immediately. A particularly harsh set of sobs takes hold of him and he gasps for air. 

“Oh, angel,” you murmur.  You manoeuvre the both of you into a position where you can hold him from behind, legs on either side of him. “Shhh, it’s okay, Buck, you’re okay,” you repeat, pressing your lips to the skin of his back, rocking him gently. His hands grasp your arms as he continues to expel air faster than he can get it in. “It’s okay, just breathe, honey, you’re okay, come on, like me, feel how I’m moving against you, big breath in,” you prompt, heaving an exaggerated breath so that he could feel it against his back. He attempts to mimic your breath but fails, and his body shudders. “It’s okay, try again, Buck, come on, take a breath in,” you say as you take your own, this time when he follows its less shaky, and his shoulders slump as he exhales. “Good,” you praise, the word stretching itself soothingly over him like a blanket. “Again, try and hold this one for a few seconds,” you encourage, taking another breath in yourself as the water beats down on you both, and he follows, holding his breath until you instruct him to let go. 

The sound of the water disappears into the back of your mind and all you can hear is your voice and his breathing for the next few minutes and eventually, he slumps against you and you use the wall behind you to catch the both of you.

You reach for the shampoo bottle nestled in the small nook in the wall and bring it down onto the floor to join you. You sweep Bucky’s hair back from his face and he lets you, his hands still clinging to one of your arms.

“I’m going to wash your hair for you, okay?” you ask, and he nods after a second, still consumed by his own thoughts. You squeeze a generous amount onto your hand and apply it to his scalp, struggling with the use of one arm but not wanting to take the other away from Bucky. Your fingers scratch against his scalp and he relaxes against you. “That feel good?” you ask with a small smile, and he nods, so you take your time with it, massaging until the soap builds a small monument on the top of his head. “Okay, we’re going to wash this out now,” you say, moving him gently back under the stream of water, and using your hand to make sure you don't leave any traces of soap.

Next, you reach for the conditioner and apply it to his ends, this time gently removing your arm from his grasp, leaving a soft kiss on his shoulder to reassure him.  With both hands available to you, you ran your fingers through his hair, searching for knots to untangle, finding very few. You rinse the conditioner and the soft nutty vanilla smell fills the enclosed space. With his hair finally washed, you grab the shower gel and loofah, and you yelp quietly when you accidentally squeeze too much onto it. Bucky turns to look at what you’ve done and a small laugh escapes him.

“I didn’t realise I smelled that bad,” he croaks, raising an eyebrow, and you smile.  His voice is raw from the sobbing, but he was teasing again.

“I know you didn’t, I practically forced you in here,” you deadpan, nudging him so he knew you were teasing. You rub the excess gel onto your own skin before you push him forward a little and move the loofah over his back in soft circles. You bring it to his front, washing his chest and neck, and he holds your arm briefly again when it’s within reach. You bring the loofah back under the water as you go for his arms, his legs, and there’s a brief awkward moment where you hover at his belly, and he takes it from you, answering your unasked question, and washing between his thighs. You stand to return all the bottles to their nook in the wall and Bucky joins you, unsteady on his feet for a second. You take the loofah back from him and run it over the small of his back, his butt, the backs of his legs, before rinsing it off.

“You ready?” you ask gently, and he nods, leaning his forehead against yours. You turn the shower off and reach for his hair, squeezing the excess water from it, and then do the same for yourself. The water from your body drips onto the floor as you step out of the shower first and make your way to the stack of neatly folded towels. You grab one and turn back to place it around him, and then do the same for yourself. Your hair sticks to your skin as you try to towel it off and you give up when you look up and find Bucky, having finished drying off, watching you. He walks over to the door, not waiting for you when he leaves, and returns just as quickly with a shirt and a pair of boxers. “Thank you,” you say, relieved to be able to strip off the soaked material of your underwear.  He nods again before leaving to give you some privacy.

When you emerge from the bathroom dressed in his shirt, you find him wearing a new pair of boxers and standing in the corner of the room. You walk over to the freshly made bed and settle into it, moaning softly at the feel and smell of the fresh sheets coupled with the effects of the hot shower on your sore muscles. You look up at Bucky and reach out an arm, and it’s seemingly all he needs to stop eyeing the bed. The mattress dips as his body joins yours on the bed, and your fingers lace with his as you pull him over so that he’s lying against you once more.

"Thank you for changing the sheets," he says, after a few seconds of quiet.  "You were right, feels nice."  You hum in response, squeezing his hand.

Your eyes move to the clock and you see that it’s 4:00am. It wouldn’t be long before people began to start their day and you didn’t know where to go from here. You reach for the TV remote with your free hand and it flickers to life with the press of a button. Bucky shifts against you trying to find a comfortable position and the hand that isn’t holding his begins stroking his back as it had been before you’d suggested the shower. You’re certain you could find something decent to watch, but settle for the ridiculous infomercials with their exaggerated voiceovers, laughing every so often at the dramatic questions they pose to the audience.

Bucky’s eyes flutter shut a few times, and every time, he shakes himself awake again, yawning against you.

“Close your eyes, Buck” you murmur, brushing your lips over his forehead and lowering the volume of the TV. “Just for a second.”

He shakes his head and continues to fight the exhaustion for another ten minutes, shifting stubbornly against you, until finally, you hear his breath evening out, and his back rises and falls steadily beneath your now still hand, and the ridiculous man on the TV is driving a motorcycle over a mattress to prove how strong it is.  As your own eyes begin to close you realise you’re caged in by Bucky’s arms on either side of you, and it feels safe here.

A few hours later you jolt awake at a sharp knock against the door. It takes a second for you to recognise your surroundings and you squint, trying to adjust to the light. Bucky lies beside you, flesh arm slung over your stomach, face pressed against your neck, legs tangled with yours. He doesn’t react to the noise, his breathing still calm and even. The door is pushed open and you lock eyes with Steve who takes in the scene before him with a raised eyebrow and a smile tugging at his lips.

He didn’t sleep, you mouth at him. Day off? 

Steve nods once and leaves the room, closing the door behind him, and this time, Bucky stirs.

“Y/N?” he groans, and you can hear the tired in his voice. “Did you stay here all night? I’m-”

“Shhh, go back to sleep, Buck,” you whisper into his hair. You wrap an arm around his waist and wait until he settles back into your neck before you close your eyes and drift off.

[cafeinthemoon]

The Senju brothers finding out their little sister is going out with Madara 💥

Lately I’ve been into family drama and such, so when anon requested this I couldn’t say no lol Btw thank you, anon, for this scandalous incredible idea 😘

In this scenario/list/idk we have the Senju brothers finding out their younger sister and Madara are seeing each other. As you might expect, the news provoke different reactions in each of them, but the main point is how she will deal with this situation.

So I’m gonna shut up now and leave you with this:

Fandom: Naruto | Senju Brothers

Warnings: none, just a heated argument and a looong list ahead

Symbols: 💙 | ◻ | ▶▶

Hashirama

Being Hashirama and Tobirama’s younger sister, of course you and Madara were known to each other, but being more than just a friend to him wasn’t in your plans… until now 😳

You used to admire and respect each other, not only because of the alliance between your clans, but mostly because you both were worthy being praised. Plus Hashirama has always been talkative about his best friend’s qualities, which slowly transformed the way you saw the Uchiha leader, but you only noticed this a few weeks ago

During a meeting/party/whatever at your brother’s house, Madara and you spent more time than usual talking to each other. Turned out that you discovered many things in common beyond the fact that you two were shinobi, including your views on life, politics, etc.

If Hashi noticed something, you couldn’t tell, but it was strange that during all the time you were there together he didn’t come to join you (not that you complained about it)

You and the Uchiha saw each other a few times on the next days, and the feeling of familiarity between you only grew. You weren't sure of how to call it. You were fond of each other, but saying that you were just friends didn’t seem to be enough now

You both agreed that it was too soon to name it as a date or something, so you didn't tell anyone, not even your brothers

You wanted to be sure of your own feelings before making a statement. Were you still friends? Were you really in love? Was it just a crush, a superficial attraction? You wanted to understand what was going on

During this time, Hashirama didn’t make a comment or anything that suggested that he was aware of this situation, so you were a bit surprised when one day, he came to talk to you about it

“So you and Madara are engaging in a secret romance and you dared leaving your big brother out of this, y/n? Where did you learn such behavior?!”

“Don’t you really know?”, you smirked

“Excuse me?!”

“Am I the first person in this family to keep secrets that involve Madara, Hashi?” 😑

THE REDNESS ON HIS CHEEKS WAS PRICELESS LMAO

Hashirama was your elder brother aka the person who has been taking care of you since your parents left this world, so not only his worries were valid, but he also had the right to know, so yeah, he was a bit disappointed that you didn't tell him first

Now, I think his feelings about this were not as plain as some can imagine. In fact, he had a mixture of contradicting feelings and ended up talking about them more than demanding an explanation from you

On one hand, he was happy because he loves you both, so finding out that his little sis and his soul brother might have started a relationship was exciting 💖

On the other hand, he was worried because you were even younger than Tobirama, while Madara was not only older but more experienced than you and he knew his friend’s flaws better than anyone else

However, Hashi was an understanding person and was willing to listen, so you explained your feelings and your reasons to him, as well as part of your conversations with Madara, pointing out that making things this way was a mutual decision, for the best of you two and the people you knew

He pointed out that despite not calling your meetings a date, you two were already thinking as a couple 😏

You blushed and asked him to keep quiet, at least for a while

He promised you he would not say anything, but not before hugging you tight and crying about how his lil sis was growing up so fast saying how much he was happy for you two 💓

Tobirama

Prepare yourself to get your ass smacked and burning for an entire week lmao

Okay, so as you can easily imagine, it didn’t take much effort from Tobirama to find out that something was going on between you and Madara

It wasn’t that you two were reckless, it was just that your second brother was not stupid an observing man (and tbh how hard it must be to keep a secret from a smart sensor shinobi, uh?)

Unlike Hashirama, who took some time to connect the dots, he noticed small changes in your routine and behavior since the start

Why have you been so quiet, distracted lately? What has been occupying your mind? You were spending more time alone and/or out, and (yeah, he noticed that) you weve more concerned about your looks and manners than usual. Of course you were up to something 

Besides, you’ve suddenly became too defensive towards Madara and the Uchihas in general. Anything Tobirama said that sounded slightly negative about them was promptly refuted by you. You seemed to have a deeper understanding of their ideologies now, as if you were having long conversations with their leader

So, it was with no surprise that you saw the storm coming ⚡

One day, Tobirama came to your room without warning and just by looking at him you knew he figured it out 

How did he find out? Hashirama and his big mouth, probably. Or did he follow you and saw you two together? Well, he could have simply traced your chakra and once he sensed Madara’s close to you, the riddle was solved. But did it matter now?

His first words: “What is it?”

You don't need an explanation: you little sis + Madara Uchiha problem™ + maintaining your privacy keeping secrets from him

And now you were a brat possessed with the Uchiha evil, and not just with any Uchiha evil but with MADARA’S Uchiha evil 🔥🔥🔥

There was no way for you to have a normal conversation in the current circumstances. You had a heated argument, and I’m sure you’re capable of imagining what it means to have a heated argument with Tobirama

“Tobi, listen to me, I-”

“No YOU listen to me you brat possessed with the Uchiha evil”

Your brother didn’t even let you speak. He stated that not telling anything to your elder brother was not only wrong, but some sort of betrayal, then started remembering serious sh*t from the past when you were so young that you couldn’t even carry a sword the right way and everything you’ve already heard from him countless times before

But now you were done with his incapacity of simply listen, so you just stated that your elder brother Hashirama already knew it and that it was you who asked him to keep it a secret just for a while

“Hashirama is our leader, and if he knows and approves it, that’s enough for me and that should be enough for you too!”

“Hashirama is too soft with you, and this is why you behave like this!”

“Like this how? Living my life without asking for your permission? Is that what you mean?”

“Being unnecessarily connected with a man with whom we need to be careful in our treats, that’s what I mean. Our elder brother purposely ignores the fragile spots of this alliance and you know it, so there’s no excuse for your attitude!”

“Speaking like this about our ally could be considered some sort of betrayal, Tobi. If I was you, I would be careful!”

“Why? Are you going to tell him in your next date?”

“GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

“Yes, I’m getting out and having a serious conversation with our brother about this!”

“Tobirama, the war is over! We all have to move on, whether you like it or not! So instead of wasting your time with something that’s none of your business, you should go and live your life as well!”

Yes, you lost your temper, and you only realized it when your brother fell silent and lowered his tone

“You are right, lilttle sister. But let me tell you something. My way to show that I care about you might not resemble Hashirama’s, but my feelings towards you are not less deep than his”

You were heartbroken after he left, yes, but you had to stand your ground. Tobi could be very controlling if he was given space to, so you had to learn to deal with this early in your life. In this point you were better than Hashi, who was too easygoing for his own good, so you felt like you had to be strong on your resistance for both of you, otherwise Tobirama would dominate every aspect of your life without even realizing. You loved him as well, but your decisions didn’t have to always gravitate towards him

Still, you weren’t proud of your words about the war. That was a sensitive matter for Tobi. Despite his silence about it, you sensed he was offended. You knew you went too far 💔

The conclusion

Later, Hashirama came to mediate the conflict, and he had some words for both of you. When Tobirama and you found ourselves in the same room, you were about to start a new argument, but your eldest brother elevated his chakra and demanded you to be silent, bc now it was his time to speak

“Brother, I understand you are worried about our sister and I am sure she acknowledges your efforts to protect and guide her, but that doesn’t give you the right to interfere in her decisions regarding her own life. She’s right to remind you about our alliance with the Uchiha clan and to say that we need to move on. If moving on means starting a relationship with Madara in her case, things are what they are. It is her life, not yours. And do not think I haven’t talk to her about this. Y/n is no longer a child, Tobirama. She’s aware of the challenges of maintaining such connection with the Uchiha leader”

“Little sister, I understand that our brother’s way to express his worries uses to irritate you. It happened many times when you two were little. But that doesn’t invalidate the honesty of his intentions. He loves you and cares about you as much as I do. Besides, I’ve already talked to you about thoughtless mentions of the war. That was a though period for all of us, which includes your brother. You were not with us at the battlefield, that’s true, but you weren’t immune to the dark consequences of what happened at it. You mourned our siblings with us, but you were too young to understand everything that was involved. That was not Tobirama’s case. He doesn’t talk about it, but he has his reasons for that, and this must be respected”

Hashirama left you two hoping you would be capable of getting along again, which eventually happened, but at its own pace

The next day you found Tobirama working at his desk. He already acknowledged your presence, but that didn’t discourage you. You hugged him from behind and said you were going out to the river, and he could come with you if he wanted to fish. His first response was a groan

“Is there more people coming with us?” = “Is there any possibility of Madara showing up?”

You kissed his bristly hair

“No. Just us. I promise. And when we get back, I’ll cook fish for you”

Your brother’s next groan meant many things at once, “I agree”, “Thank you” and “I apologize” being some of them 😜

[pitaparka]

keepin’ busy

request: 5. “I know a few ways we could keep busy…” 19. “Pornhub is giving away free premium right now you perv. Get away from me.” 20. “That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re gonna be stuck with each other for the next four weeks.” with Frank Castle? idk how many prompts per request we're meant to send so I picked my fave 3

summary: frank’s been a lot more… tense, since quarantine started. whether that’s because he’s not taking his rage out on bad guys late at night or because he’s stuck in your house without a little privacy? that’s anyone’s guess… 

pairings: frank castle x reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: suggestive content, frank has nice hands ;) 

a/n: if only we could go back to a time where we all thought we were getting like, eight weeks off… hah…haha…hahaha…whew… on a less depressing note, jon bernthal is really fucking hot. pretty pretty please send in some requests for my boy frankie :( i love him so much. If you’ve had any ideas floating around you’d like to see written out to completion, now’s the perfect time to see it happen! maybe some smut, or fluff, or angst, or anything really… big love <3

He wasn’t supposed to be staying with you. But apartment hunting when your face has been all over the news recently as one of America’s Most Wanted criminals in the state of New York is kind of hard to do, not to mention when there’s a global pandemic going on. You knew first hand, apartment hunting was hard enough as is. At first, you didn’t really notice him. He would always be out going on runs, exercising in the basement in order to not disturb any neighbors, and guarding the streets at night, like a vigilante cop. Soon, he was staying home more than he was patrolling. Frank still got out from time to time, but it was hard to catch bad guys when they were at home, drinking and sleeping and waiting to be able to go back to causing trouble again.

You hadn’t touched anyone in weeks. You were starving for affection of any kind. You missed hugging your friends, awkward cheek kisses from your family, even shaking hands with strangers at this rate. What you wouldn’t give for a nice firm handshake… 

It was driving you crazy. Frank on the other hand, was making the most out of his time stuck in your apartment. He had recently gotten into a netflix show, you had noticed, which was just one of the luxuries exposed to him during the pandemic. He strummed on your old guitar, the one you barely played anymore, if at all. It was a surprise to hear, but you knew from the familiar sounds of tuning and plucking strings that it was not coming from the television. It was a nice thing to see, him hunched over on your couch, guitar case open on the floor, fiddling with the capo for a song he knew by heart. It was nice he could let his guard down a little bit. He was even learning how to cook, and could make a mean fettuccine alfredo for the two of you. 

Frank was a very domestic man outside of his nightly routine of making New York a cleaner place to live. 

Nights were different now. You two sat together on the couch, your head on his shoulder, dozing off against him as he tried to clue you in on what was happening. It was a gangster show, but that was the only thing you gleaned from his run down. 

“I bet you were a mafia man in a past life,” you said, breaking the silence between the two of you. He tore his gaze from the television.

“What?” he said, smiling down at you. You didn’t look away from the TV, but continued.

“Like, a mafia boss or something. Yeah, I can see that.” “Where is this comin’ from?” he asks.

You hum as you imagine it, ignoring his question. 

“You’re weird,” he comments, and he puts his legs up on the coffee table.

“You can see?” he asks, and his feet are in the way of the screen but you’re not really watching it anyway, so you nod your head against his shoulder. He moves his arm behind your head and rubs your shoulder softly before resting it over the arm of the couch. You readjust yourself, head on his thigh, curling up into Frank. It became easier to listen to his breathing when he turned the volume down a bit, fully aware of you on his lap. It didn’t take long before you dozed off, but when you woke up, you were in your bedroom, shrouded in darkness, covered carefully by a comforter. 

OVER the course of the coming week, the two of you get closer. You’d even become invested in the show he’d started watching. 

With your closeness, you hadn’t noticed you started touching Frank a lot more. 

Nothing you wouldn’t do to your other friends. It was mainly just laying your head on his, playing old hand games you remembered from your childhood, and petting the back of his neck. It was absent minded, and it was only because he had shown you how to cut his hair with his old beard clippers. When asked about why you would run your hands over the prickly surface, you explained it felt nice, and that you had the right to admire your handiwork. 

Later into the quarantine you ordered a palmistry book, and since nobody else was around, you asked Frank to read his palms. He of course was hesitant, but did as you asked, handing over his right hand for you to examine. His nails were nicely trimmed, you noticed immediately. The tips of his fingers were calloused, as were his palms, the skin cracked under harsh and constant use. He held the flashlight from your phone as you read from the book and bent and pulled at the taut skin there. You read him his diagnosis, and he said it was all bullshit, like astrology. You just think he didn’t like being labelled as a dreamer. 

It really only heated up when you asked for the massage.

You said it as a joke, but Frank was by your side, rolling his eyes and pushing up the sleeves on his black Henley before you looked up at him.

“Oh shit, you’re actually gonna do it?” You mused, flipping yourself over. Very briefly you were self conscious of your lounge shorts and novelty shirt that was a size too big. But just for a second, because then Frank was straddling your back, considerately resting most of his weight on his knees, kneading your shoulders with his big hands. His palms work the knots out and you breathe a little lighter as he trails downward, pressing hard into your lower back. It makes you moan a little bit, but if he hears you, he doesn't acknowledge it. He takes precious time down there, all fingers and knuckles and palms, pushing hard into your soft skin, almost like he’s done this before. 

You feel him back up off of you, and you note the lack of contact, making you open your eyes for a second. His thumbs push and pull the soft flesh of your calves. It’s only moments before they move softly up your thigh, sending shivers down your back. He goes just a smidgen too high for comfort. It makes your heart jump into your throat, and you wriggle out from his grip.

“Pornhub is giving away free premium right now, you perv. Get away from me,” you say playfully, smile on your face. It’s not contagious.

“I thought that’s what you wanted?” He spoke, confused. Your brows furrowed.

“What?”

“You’ve been doing little things all week like that… ‘thought you wanted me to… God, never mind. I’m just… I’m sorry,” he apologizes, and stands up from the couch. 

You’re dumbfounded. You don’t know what to do. But you know you don’t want him to leave.

“What?” you respond again, this time with even more confusion.

“Don’t worry about it, you’re fine,” he says, making his way down the hall. Did he mean what he said? Did he say what he meant?

You stood up hastily to follow him, tripping over your own feet in pursuit. His hand is on the door handle to your office, which had since been converted into a room for Frank, complete with luxuries such as a pull out futon and fast internet speeds (thanks to the router being in there).

“Frank,” you said, stopping at the beginning of the hallway. You watched his hand grip the knob. His shoulders rise and fall with his breathing.

“I…” you start, but don’t know where to go. What to say. You’re confused, and you don’t want him to be upset. Not even at you, just in general. You can’t stand the lack of contact with the outside world already. It would suck to be alienated by your… roommate? If you could even call him that.

“What is this?” you say, and he spins around to look at you. 

Now it’s his turn to be confused.

“What?” he questions, and his shoulders are squared and tense.

“Where is this coming from? I mean… yeah, but… me?”

His brows are furrowed and he squints at you suspiciously.

“You?” He questions.

“I guess quarantine is taking a toll on everyone, and you can’t really see anyone else… do you… do you really want…”

“Do I really want what?”

You could barely look at him, eyes tracing the wood patterns in the floor and the door behind him. 

“Do you want that, Frank?” You ask. Your eyes meet his.

“Do I want what?” He asks again, irritated. You sigh gently, and your feet move on their own accord, anticipation and worry festering where your heart should be. He watches you come to him.

You stand in front of him, your feet almost touching, your hands by your side.

His eyes are dark in the dimly lit hallway. His gaze is intense.

You reach your hand out to him, taking one of his hands in yours and squeezing it, pulling it closer to you. He moves his head closer to yours, tentatively stopping within centimetres of your lips.

Then he’s on top of you, pushing his lips into yours, unyielding and feverish. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck and you breathe heavily into the kiss, softening under his touch. 

He pulls away, and you’re panting with the intensity of it.

“That’s new,” you say, backing up slightly. He smiles mischievously.

“We can take it slow.”

THE television in your room is smaller than the one in the living room, and has remained largely unused since Frank moved in. 

It’s nice to have Frank in bed with you. There are flashes of color bouncing off the walls of your dark bedroom. It’s not Frank’s mafia show tonight. It’s the news.

“It’s crazy out there,” you interrupt. “Never seen anything like it.”

Andrew Cuomo is on screen, making important announcements about the state of New York, when he changes your whole outlook in just a few words.

Statewide shutdown ends May 15th, adding another month on top of your quarantine with Frank. A lot longer than you had originally anticipated.

“That’s... two whole months, huh?” He ponders, your back pressed up against his chest in your bed.

“I know a few ways we could keep busy…” you suggested, tracing patterns up his arm. You tilted your head up to look at him.

“That’s a dangerous game to play if we’re going to be stuck with each other for the next few weeks,” he spoke quietly, tension thick in the air. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. 

His hand cups your chin and throat, and you swallow hard, gaze unwavering. You lick your lips inadvertently. 

He comes in even closer, and envelopes you in a soft kiss. Frank being a sweet lover, you never would have guessed. Your skull is cradled in his big hands, and it makes you notice how vulnerable you are to him. Your neck exposed, bodies pressed against each other in a hot passion. His lips are a little rougher down other parts of your body, but his hands are always soft and firm, touching and squeezing and dragging his fingertips down your stomach. He’s painstakingly slow with it, and it makes your breath hitch in your throat. What a tease. He knows what he’s doing to you, and it drives you crazy. It would be a long night. 

Frank knows how to take care of a partner, too. Only in his case, it’s not bandaging and stitching. It’s much, much more pleasant.

[chick-from-nz]

Paper, Scissors, Rank  (Ch: 7)

CHARACTER/PAIRING: Modern!Carrillo x Army!OC (eventually) 

WARNINGS: maybe some swearing, military slang, more military talk,  spelling and grammatical errors. Flippy floppy points of view and tenses. Could be very OOC/AU for some. Carrillo may not be narcos accurate as this is an AU. Some OC x OC 

AUTHORS NOTE: ok so idk how good this is, kinda just word vomited onto the page, tryna generate some emotion in there but lets see how it goes, thanks for reading peeps. I know I said I wasn't gonna post but middle of the night inspiration stuck so imma keep writing this 

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

CHAPTER: 7 OF ?

TAG LIST(OPEN): @girlpornparadise @1zashreena1 @xxidontwikeitxx @nicke0115 @allalngthewtchtower @lettherebrelight

The drive to the teams new base of operations was by no means short. While still being on defence land they were nearly three hours away from the main base, located in a flat valley in the hills and surrounded by greenery and training equipment. Ash had been here once before during a cadets course many years ago with her father, but it was vastly different now. The house had changed drastically from what used to be multiple cabins to what was now a single stand alone one story place. However while the accommodation had changed the grounds had stayed the same. There was an assault course set up that flowed into the trees to the south of the house and there was a pool to the west of the house, all in all, it was nothing to complain about. 

The house itself was relatively modern, having been rebuilt within the last few years or so. The entrance was sealed by heavy wooden doors that required a pin in order to access. Upon entry Ash took in the place, it was actually really nice. It was open plan living, the kitchen was directly to the right as you came in the doors, nice wooden benchtops and crisp new appliances. Directly in front of the breakfast bar sat the living room. Three nice couches surrounded a rather large square coffee table, laden with maps. The fireplace that the couches faced was made of a slate grey stone and sat underneath the rather large tv.  To the right of the fireplace was a door that she had been informed led to the only bathroom in the house that held a shower, while to the left of the fireplace was the door to Ash’s room.

Across the small hallway was the Colonels room, which was attached to his office that was on the far end of the house. At the end of the small hallway was an open archway that, from what she could see, led to a gym. Stepping further into the house and left from the kitchen Ash noticed another two sets of doors. One that led to the boys room, containing four single military style pits and separate draws for each of them, while the second door opened up onto the workspace for them all, which had a door in the back right corner that opened up onto Carrillo’s office. All in all, Ash couldn’t find a single fault to the house, okay perhaps one bathroom to share was gonna be a little tough.

She was startled from her thoughts and exploring when Carrillo called out to her while making his way to his office. “There's some food in the fridge and everything is pretty easy to find so make yourself at home, the boys should arrive in around about five weeks. You’ve got the single room closest to the bathroom”  Ash nodded in thanks and watched as he disappeared into the teams workroom, no doubt going to his office to work through the enlistment papers for the rest of the team. Ash didn’t waste much time going to her room, she could eat later when hunger eventually struck her, she was miles too tired from the drive here and sore from moving about so much. Her room was nice. A large double bed sat in the middle of the room encompassed by grey side tables, each sporting a small lamp. In front of the bed sat a tall set of drawers and a small bookcase. Very homely indeed, thankfully, cause god only knows how long the team would be confined to the house doing research and/or planning and training for future raids.

Ash barely gave herself any time to get changed, haphazardly pulling on an oversized shirt and a pair of comfortable gym shorts, before she all but launched herself onto her new bed, grunting in pain when her left side made contact with the bed a little too harshly . She moved onto her back sinking deep into the comfort of the mattress. The bed was like heaven for her after sleeping on either a creaky army pit or the ground for the last twenty some weeks. If this is what she had to look forward to everyday her enthusiasm for work was about to increase ten fold.  The moment her head touched the pillow she was out like a light. Thankful for her own space and a bed big enough to move around on and toss and turn how she used to.

                                                            -------

As much as Carrillo enjoyed the rank he was and the respect that followed his name, the paperwork at this level was a nightmare. Especially due to the complaints Sinclair had lodged against him due to the incident  at the base hospital. Having to describe in detail the events that occurred between that despicable man and the young officer a mere few rooms over made his blood boil, yet again. He was starting to understand the warnings that came with being posted here, apparently work affairs between ranks wasn’t a condemnable act like it was back home in Columbia. An odd world indeed. Still, within his team he would not tolerate any kind of fraternization, hence his decision to cram the boys into one room together and give Greyson her own room, partly for her own privacy but also for his peace of mind.

Pushing the paperwork to the side of his desk, he sighed. That damn soldier might well be the best thing for the team but she sure came with some complications. He’d done extensive research into his team members upon his arrival to the base, most came from non-military backgrounds, a solid high school education or higher, and most but not all had been serving for at least four years and had seen some kind of fire fight. Then there was Greyson. Military background with files upon files that had been redacted and unable to be accessed by anyone in the force, no matter how hard he’d tried. Only the most basic of information could be found about the young soldier; graduated school with honors and received many scholarship proposals but turned them down, participated in many extracurricular activities before and after her education, applied to join the army as both a regular soldier and an enlisted officer as her father had served but yet again, any information surrounding him and his career or rank had been redacted. A Lot of mystery surrounded this soldier, a mystery the Colonel found himself wanting to solve, even if it did go against his own rule.

                                                          ------

When Ash awoke the room was bathed in light from the full moon outside, the sounds of the bush were a welcome homely feeling for her, nature was her comfort. She went to sit but was struck with immense pain. Both her stab wound and head injuries were sending waves of pain throughout her body, making her vision temporarily blurry. The need to puke was high but Ash pushed it down as far as she could. She was hungry, in pain and now cranky, she just hoped her medication would be easy to find in the kitchen. Stumbling like a newborn deer she tried to shake the dizzy feeling from her head, this concussion was a pain in her ass, but the medics did say the symptoms should be gone within the next few weeks, until then Ash would have to put up with feeling sick and dizzy sometimes.  Celebrating when she finally made it to the kitchen without falling on her ass, she then struggled to find the lightswitch, now that was one thing she really should have paid attention too when scouting the house when they arrived.

Having located the switch and turning on the lights she winced, they were just that tad bit too bright for a tired concussed brain. It was when she turned to grab a glass of water to quench her thirst that she noticed a glass already laid out on the bench, with what looked like her meds already measured out beside it and a note beneath the glass. Either she was hallucinating or the stoic Colonel had laid this out for her. Gripping the bench as tight as she could as another wave of nausea overtook her sense she moved closer to the glass, there were her meds. Perfectly placed atop a piece of paper that was covered in a rather elegant script. Each pill had the name and the purpose written next to it and at the bottom of the note were the words “Dinner is in the fridge, eat first. That's an order”  

Ash scoffed a little at the note, of course he’d write that, seemed the man was more by the book than she thought. She was silently thankful for his detailed note explaining her meds, if she had to pick them from the bottle she wouldn’t have known what to take. Opening the fridge and grabbing out the only covered plate she was surprised to find that the meal looked home cooked, Did this man really cook dinner? . It was safe to say she was shocked by the thought but proceeded to microwave her dinner anyway, leaning against the bench to keep herself upright, lest the Colonel come into the kitchen later in the day and find her sprawled out on the floor.

Ash all but devoured the food when it was ready, not waiting for anything to cool down, she was far too hungry. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate, or the last time she ate this good. She never would have guessed that Carrillo was this good at cooking, like sure she’d guess he cooked, but this was some next level stuff. Finishing her meal and cleaning up any mess she’d made was an effort at best, the dizzy feeling was getting worse every time she moved. Quickly she gathered the pills from the bench and downed them in one gulp, chasing them down with water, she hoped at least one of them would help with the horrible dizziness and the nausea that accompanied it. The need to sleep was beginning to overtake her again, something she figured would be common while she was recovering, as much as that might annoy her she’d be thankful for the rest.

Like clockwork she yawned, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to shake the sleep from her body, only to regret the motion a few seconds later. The stitches in her side had pulled impossibly tight at being stretched, her side felt like it was on fire. She reached down to grab her side in pain and pulled her hand away at the warm feeling. Glancing down she noted the rapidly growing red spot seeping into the gauze pad. Of course she had ripped her stitches, she'd been warned by not only the medics but also Carrillo to not move around too much due to her side. Seems she really hadn’t been listening to the warnings. Deciding that she was entirely too tired to deal with the result of her stretching Ash just walked as calmly as she could back to her room and clambered into bed. There was always tomorrow to fix this. And with that, Ash was quick to fall back to sleep, her medication no doubt aiding her plight.

                                                    ------

It was the smell of freshly made coffee that had Ash climbing from her bed and shaking off sleep the next morning. Her medication had definitely kicked in, she could feel no pain from anywhere in her body and the nausea had disappeared finally. To her surprise, Carrillo was standing in the kitchen, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and simple white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, not the Ash was complaining cause the view from her vantage point was amazing. If Ash believed in a higher power she woulda thought that the gods had gifted her with the man standing in the kitchen. No man had the right to look so sinfully delicious in a simple white shirt like that. It was so tight that it clung to his sculpted upper body and left very little to the imagination The thin shirt was stretched thin across his chest, pecs struggling to stay contained. The fabric was stretched tight across his broad bulky shoulders, his biceps straining against the confines of the sleeves that were sure to tear if he were to flex just the right way. He reclined against the bench facing her but was wrapped up with whatever was on the tv. Ash was obvious in her gawking so it was only a matter of time before his eyes fell to her. When they did, his eyes widened comically in shock. Ash wasn’t sure why until his eyes travelled down her frame and landed on her side before a look of realisation overcame his face.  

He took a few quick paces towards her before turning to his right and disappearing into the bathroom with a look of determination on his face. Ash paid him no mind and made her way to the kitchen counter to pour herself a coffee before taking a long pleasant sip. It was a mere minute later that Carrillo was standing in front of her, a med kit laid out on the bench and an expectant look on his face. She looked at him long and hard before realising he was speaking, she gave him a questioning look, tilting her head to the side, before she heard him huff and repeat what he said.

“Greyson, I asked you to take of your shirt”  

It was Ash’s turn to gape at him, the audacity of this man, why would the most by the book man she’d ever met be so unprofessional. “Excuse me?” the disbelief in her words made him roll his eyes, if she wasn’t so confused right now she probably would’ve gone off at him for that.

“I don’t know what activities you got up too last night, but you’ve obviously torn through your stitches, despite the warning from both the medics and myself” He said with a small amount of annoyance while pointing at her side. Now that Ash looked down she realised he was right. Blood had well and truly soaked through her bandage and through the shirt she wore to bed, She was unsure how she didn’t notice this sooner because now that she was seeing it with her own two eyes, it was pretty obvious.

Begrudgingly she pulled the shirt over her head, unsure as to why she had to take it off completely before coming to the conclusion that the shirt probably should be washed. She had a second to drop her shirt before Carrillo was standing a mere few inches in front of her, slowly peeling the bandage from her skin before inspecting her wound, Since when was he a medic?, that thought had her laughing silently, or so she thought. Being this close meant that he heard her laugh so she was met with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression on his face, that surely ended her laughter. She was silent while he worked, wincing occasionally when he prodded a little too hard to see her reaction.

“You’ll be fine if you rest for the next few days, you tore the bottom few stitches. Don’t do anything stupid and the wound will be healed on time” His tone was definitive and the order was clear.

Ash groaned and rolled her eyes, a brave thing to do this close to the man.  He handed her a bandage then turned around to pack away the supplies from the kit. She quickly fixed the bandage and took off toward her room, coffee abandoned on the bench, she was well and truly awake now. New shirt now acquired and covering herself she returned to the main room, Carrillo now vacant from the space and probably in his office working. She snatched up the tv remote and flicked through the channels, settling on an old war movie before curling onto her side to relax.

She woke hours later, the movie long since ended and the daylight now darkness. A blanket had been draped over her in her sleep and her dinner was sitting on the coffee table with a glass of water and her medication beside it. She would forever be grateful for the subtle ways the Colonel looked after her, even if he would never admit to it. She at least knew he cared enough for his team that he’d go out of his way to make her feel comfortable and like she belonged, even if she was new to the force.

                                                                                                                                                                                          -------

Aside from the incident in the kitchen the rest of the week went pretty smooth. They’d developed some semblance of a rhythm. Both woke early, whoever made it to the kitchen first put the pot of coffee on and poured a cup for the both of them, conveniently they preferred their coffee the same way. Black with no milk or sugar. Then they usually sat at the kitchen counter to eat breakfast, cereal for Ash and whatever Carrillo cooked himself for breakfast, Ash really wasn’t one for a big meal in the mornings. After breakfast the Colonel usually disappeared into his office to work and the younger officer would clean up their dishes and then hog the shower for as long as possible, soaking in the opportunity to have a warm shower all to herself without limits. Ash would spend most of the day watching tv or reading one of the many military inspired books that occupied the wall mounted shelves on either side of the tv.

Carrillo would emerge from his office around sixteen hundred hours each day, and proceed to cook dinner for the both of them. Ash had tried once but burnt the steak and been deemed too inexperienced and untrustworthy in the kitchen, something she was silently glad for cause the Colonel was a better cook than she ever could’ve hoped. Again Ash did the clean up, a fair trade off for not cooking, while Carrillo once again disappeared, this time to the gym or for a run around the perimeter of the property along the treeline, a sight Ash loved to enjoy. Only twice  he had stayed to converse or silently watch the news beside her. Then like clockwork they would bid each other goodnight and retire to their rooms.

Everything was going perfect, the routine now something established and easy to work through, even if Ash did complain about being on couch/bed rest until either the medics cleared her or the Colonel deemed her fit enough to begin easing her way into training. It wasn’t until the Wednesday of their second week together that something changed between them, something Ash looked back on with a smile on her face and made Carrillo have conflicted feelings and wish he had just stuck to their schedule they had so easily adapted to around each other.

[arigatouiris]

the flame hashira // rengoku kyojuro

Author’s Note: This is just ANGST. It’s not happy, it’s not fluffly, it’s just bitter, bitter angst because Rengoku is my one true love (like so many others) but gosh, I think I cried writing this? Idk. This has some HUGE MANGA SPOILERS. So please read at your own risk!

Word count: 3353

Pairing: Spirit! Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Warnings: angst, pining, mentions of death, spoilers for manga

❝

It was a bit hard to believe for people who didn’t know him, but Rengoku Kyojuro could feel softer emotions like love very intensely. It wasn’t as if his heart was stolen by someone already, it was just that it was possible and that he was in some parts a bit of a romantic.

Rengoku was driven; he knew what he had to accomplish and he wanted to be the big brother for his younger sibling; the big brother one could be proud of. And on his way there, he was certainly not too distracted. It wasn’t as if the prospect of love didn’t come to him at all before, but he would brush it off considering it was not his time. 

Perhaps, that was where things went awry. 

Of all things Kyojuro wanted to feel and admire, love was definitely one of them. But, knowing how limited his access was to these things, he believed it was quite difficult for him to approach a woman and court her, considering how there were demons he’d rather kill. Maybe, this woman could be a demon slayer? And they would be the duo that turned the world upside down. Rengoku may have been optimistic, but he wasn’t a dreamer.

It was at that second when Akaza killed him, and when he let himself go, did he feel Akaza’s, no, Hakuji’s sadness. He didn’t know what his story was, but there were some deep and troubling emotions swaying in the demon’s heart. Rengoku wasn’t one to hold grudges, he simply was satisfied that no one else had died there, and he had accomplished his task.

Maybe, that was why he was confused when he woke up.

He remembered his death rather well; it was an event no one could forget if they were given a chance to recall something. He looked at his hands, and then touched his face, shock plastered over his features. Kyojuro couldn’t be alive, not after that kind of injury—even he knew that. He looked around and saw nothing but farmlands, where the train once was. He looked down on the ground and saw no dried blood, his sword was no longer there, his haori wasn’t to be found either.

How strange... He thought, before attempting to stand up. He could stand up rather easily, but it was strange how he seemed so alive when he knew he was dead.

He walked over to what seemed like a clearing. There were people gathered there, minding their own business, tending to their tasks, heading to their homes—it was close to the evening, after all. Kyojuro attempted to speak to someone, his suspicions already placed in his mind, but the second his hand went through a man’s shoulder, he understood.

He had not passed yet. He was roaming here, in search of something.

But, what could it be? Kyojuro was certain that he had accomplished whatever it was that he wanted to. He had saved Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke and Nezuko’s lives, he heard his mother tell him he was good, he felt content—even when he thought about his own death. He had no regrets. Then why hadn’t he moved on? He had seen his mother before losing consciousness permanently, but then why? This didn’t make sense to him.

He wondered if spirits lingered because it was a thing they do. But, he saw no spirits around him. He then thought if spirits with unaccomplished tasks roam around, but he had accomplished a task. Whatever this was, was unexplained and could not be deduced.

     “Maybe I’m supposed to meet someone?” He spoke aloud, no one around him could hear him.

He knew he was divided from the land of the living now, but how could he communicate? What was he to do?

Suddenly, his eyes caught hold of the familiar demon slayer uniform, and he paused. He had seen this demon slayer, he remembered her name; a strange name but sounded nice to hear. (y/n)? Yes, that was it. Kyojuro walked over to her, and stood beside her, taking in her appearance. What was she doing here? If he could recall, she was at the rank of Tsuchinoe. Kyojuro had met her once in between her own mission—a mission, which was later deduced that could not be completed without the presence of a Hashira.

     “(y/n)-san,” Rengoku said, watching her as she stood, no emotion on her face. “I wonder if you can hear me.”

She couldn’t. She stood so close that Rengoku could touch her, but she was no one to him and he was no one to her. He was acquainted with her, and that was basically it. He had met her a couple of times otherwise, she was closer to Kanroji and Kocho than she was with anyone else. She spoke quietly, almost as if she would whisper, but she was loud when she had to be.

However, a second later, Kyojuro saw it. (y/n)’s eyes were filled with tears, her lip was quivering, and the second she realized she was about to break down, her hand violently wiped the tears away—she took a couple of deep breaths and attempted to calm herself down. It was strange how sad he felt for her right then, wondering what caused her pain.

     “I’m so sorry, Rengoku-san,” Kyojuro’s eyes widened, “I should have told you before you...” 

Should have told me what? He thought before blinking rapidly. He wanted to grab her shoulder and turn her around, ask her what she had to tell him. He could feel his heart race, at the mere thought of something left unsaid. He was no longer available—she could never tell him what she wanted to. 

What was it?

     “Rengoku-san,” Her voice broke as she said his name, so softly, almost as if she was scared saying it any louder would do her harm, “You didn’t deserve to die...” 

He wanted to shake his head and tell her so badly that he didn’t regret it. Was she crying for him? Was she grieving because he had died? He recalled how their conversations went, and he remembered being nice to her each time—she wasn’t someone anyone could be rude to. She was funny with how clueless she was sometimes, but she would laugh it off each time someone mentioned it.

     “(y/n)-san!” 

(y/n) turned to spot Rengoku a few feet away from her. Smiling, she raised one hand and waved at him.

     “Rengoku-san, how are you doing today?”

Smiling wide, “I’m good today! As I was yesterday, as well—”

She giggled at his words, confusing him a tad bit.

     “Did I say something funny?” He tilted his head sideways.

She shook her head, “You’re always filled with so much energy! It’s nice to see.”

Rengoku couldn’t help the smile that came his way. He closed his eyes and offered her the kindest of smiles.

     “I’m glad my energy could make you happy!”

He felt desperate, even, at wanting to comfort (y/n). She stood by herself, near the area he had died, crying for him. How many days had passed? Why was she here? Was she on a mission? 

     “I should have told you...” Tears leaked down her eyes, and Rengoku couldn’t bear to watch. 

There was literally nothing he could do but watch her grieve in silence. 

*

That night, Rengoku followed her to the wisteria house. She was given a change of clothes and food; he didn’t allow himself anywhere near her room except when she had completely changed and opened the doors herself. She walked out after dinner and sat at the edge of the house, the bags under her eyes were dark and heavy.

     “Why do you grieve so much for me?” He asked, but knew she couldn’t hear him.

     “Sometimes, I wonder if you knew,” She spoke, chuckling. She was looking down at her feet, dangling from the edge, and she let out a sigh. “I really did make it so obvious. Everyone knew,”

Obvious? What was obvious?

     “Everyone knew, yes... But, I really should have told you, Rengoku-san. I wanted to, I really did. But, each time I tried, you’d... You were just...” Tears filled her eyes once more, her lip was quivering once more, her heart was breaking once more.

     “You would just be yourself and I’d forget in all that happiness that I had to tell you I was in love with you.”

Kyojuro’s eyes widened. A breath escaped his lips, and he instantly understood why he hadn’t passed over yet. He didn’t know. He didn’t know what she was feeling, he didn’t even see her that often, but he knew what the universe was trying to tell him.

He didn’t know if he had to laugh or cry at how pathetic this situation was. To be asked to love after you’re dead.

*

He watched her sleep that night but dared not get any closer. Even if he was a spirit, and even if he couldn’t touch her, he didn’t want to invade her privacy. She cried herself to sleep, making him wonder how many nights she had done this. He wondered if he would have been able to return her love in any way when he was alive. He hadn’t noticed her approaches. 

But, now they were so blatantly obvious, he wanted to slap himself.

     “Rengoku-san,” (y/n) smiled at him when he entered the butterfly mansion.

He was to meet Shinobu for a medicinal pack she had promised him, and he met (y/n) there, almost as if she was waiting for him.

     “(y/n)-san! Were you waiting for me?” 

She nodded, before giggling and looking away. Rengoku smiled widely at her before nodding once.

     “Were you aware of my coming here then? Of course, that’s why you were waiting!” He laughed once before saying, “Did Kocho give you my medicinal pack?”

(y/n) blinked, “No, I... I was actually waiting to tell you something!”

Rengoku blinked. 

     “What is it?” He smiled, and suddenly, he noticed her eyes widen.

     “Um... You see... When you ask me like that... I... Well,” (y/n) fumbled with her uniform’s collar before breaking into a sweat.

Rengoku patted her shoulder, shocking her. Grinning at her, “You can tell me when I get back, is that alright? I need to see Kocho!”

     “O-Oh? Um, yes... Okay.” 

     “You should get some rest. Your face is awfully red.”

Instantly, she covered her face with her hands as Rengoku laughed and walked inside the mansion. He had always enjoyed her company, but sometimes, he didn’t understand her.

It was not her fault, though. It was he who was blind. He let out a sigh as he left her room, leaving her to sleep. However, just as he exited, 

     “I miss you so much, Rengoku-san...” 

Kyojuro looked down with guilt. Maybe, he hadn’t passed on because he had to know the pain he had caused by dying.

*

A few days passed and he could visibly see her pain slowly die down. However, she would never stop talking to him. It was as if she was talking to herself but would always mention him. 

He found it strangely endearing. He watched her eat, sleep and talk to herself; he watched her train and interact with people, he noticed how kind she was, how sometimes she’d make a fool out of herself by not knowing something—but she was equally cute with her clumsiness. Kyojuro couldn’t help but smile at how simple she was with the way she lived but the part that Kyojuro respected and admired the most was how gracefully she carried her pain.

That afternoon, her crow screamed after her after a few days. (y/n) looked up at the crow before reaching one hand out, which the bird took and perched itself on.

     “You have a mission! Mission!” 

(y/n) giggled before rubbing the crow’s neck, listening to the details of the mission.

     “Alright.” She said, but Rengoku felt a strange sense of fear envelop his features.

He had watched her do a great many things—everyday activities such as breathe, eat and sleep. But, this would be the first time he would be watching her put her life in danger, and that didn’t sit well with him.

She grabbed her things and packed some food before setting out, Rengoku following closely behind. 

     “Wish me luck, Rengoku-san,” She said, smiling to herself.

He watched her warmly before saying, “Good luck, (y/n)-san. I’m right here with you.”

A sudden breeze flew and she paused. Kyojuro noticed her eyes widen, and his heart beat a bit quicker and he wondered if she had heard him. She turned to the side and blinked a couple of times, before letting out a sigh.

     “Sometimes, it feels like you’re by my side...” Kyojuro’s eyes widened. “But, why would you be?”

Why wouldn’t I? 

She continued on, shaking her head about her own thoughts. His heart was breaking at the mere sight. Oh, what he would give to hold her! What he would give to just tell her he was sorry! He felt tears strike his eyes but he blinked them away. 

When they reached a clearing, (y/n) grabbed the hilt of her sword. Rengoku was a spirit, after all, he couldn’t smell anything, he couldn’t tell if there was a demon nearby. He simply watched her movements and understood from that that they were not alone.

     “Breath of (..),” She breathed, “First form.”

He had never seen her use her breathing technique before, and he was simply moved to awe at how graceful she looked. Her blade wasn’t too big, but it was big enough to behead demons. There was no demon in sight, but somehow, Kyojuro knew she knew what she was doing.

     “Wavering whisper.”

She moved instantly before turning to the left, Rengoku followed after her. The demon was about to feed off a woman, but her sword had managed to cut off its tongue and hands that had pinned the civilian to the ground. However, she was a bit careless—there was another demon that grabbed her from the back, forcing her to drop her sword.

She cussed before rushing to the civilian, enveloping herself around her. The second demon approached (y/n), chuckling all the while and Kyojuro could feel his heart rampaging inside his chest. Please, he thought, please, he begged, please, please, please.

There was a small knife embedded at the back of her shoe—something she had learned from Shinobu Kocho. She pierced the demon at its neck before turning around and kicking in full force, beheading it in one full go. Rengoku’s eyes widened as she quickly grabbed her sword, 

     “Breath of (..),” She frowned, “Fourth form.”

She rushed toward the demon, whose eyes could see her and her only.

     “Quietus.”

The demon’s head went flying, and that was that. Quickly, (y/n) unsheathed her sword and turned to the woman, running to her.

     “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Can you walk?”

Kyojuro’s heart went out to her. She seemed as worried as she would be if the woman was her family. She meekly nodded before embracing (y/n), and breaking down, while (y/n) sat there, wide-eyed.

     “Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Tears filled her eyes. Slowly, she hugged the woman back but held her tears to herself. 

*

That night, Rengoku sat beside her as she sat at the edge of the wisteria house. She was humming a tune he hadn’t heard before, and it had been all day since she had spoken to him. He missed her calling his name as if some part of her knew he was sitting right beside her.

     “Rengoku-san,” He felt his heart skip a beat. “I think I now understand why you did what you did.”

He turned to look at her, a soft smile on his features.

     “Why is that?” He asked, knowing she couldn’t hear him.

     “I think... After I saved that woman’s life, I realized that we’re demon slayers to protect and not just win. And sometimes,” Her eyes filled with tears as she spoke, “Sometimes... Protecting and winning can’t happen together.”

She cried heavily after that, lips quivering, snot-nosed, ugly sobs—all of which Rengoku wished he could hold her for. He hesitantly reached forward, stopping in midair once, before placing his hand on her back—a mere half-inch gap between his hand and her body. He wanted to feel as if he was holding her, even if it wasn’t real.

     “Death is so cruel, Rengoku-san,” She said in between cries, “Passing days after a loss is far worse than anything anyone can imagine! I know that it’s simply going to get worse and worse and that I’m probably not going to be okay for a very, very long time,”

She breathed once, wiping the tears off her eyes, “Maybe... Maybe I’m never going to be okay at all.”

     “Why do you say that, (y/n)-san?” Rengoku asked, his heart breaking.

     “Because losing someone isn’t an occasion or an event. It doesn’t just happen once. It happens over and over and over again. I feel like I lose you each time I think of a warm fire. I lose you each time someone mentions your name. I lose you each time I kill a demon,”

Her face reddened from the constant rubbing. Her voice broke as she continued, “I lose you... I lose you each time I think of kissing you... Holding you or wanting you... I go to bed at night and lose you when I wish I could tell you about my day. And in the morning, when I wake up I lose you all over again.” 

She calmed a bit after saying these words, shattering his heart into pieces. Rengoku couldn’t believe the amount of love he had left behind, but it was no one’s fault. 

     “When I heard the news, I didn’t cry or wail right away,” She looked up at the sky, “The loss hits me slow, each day.”

A lone tear streaked down Rengoku’s cheek as he watched her. His hand, which was on her back went to her cheek, and there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to just touch her once. Just once and that would be enough. There would be nothing more he would ever need.

     “I love you, (y/n)-san. I wish I could have felt this sooner.”

(y/n) gasped before turning to her left, right where Rengoku sat. He gave her such a sad smile, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

     “R-Rengoku... Rengoku-san?” She whispered, unable to conjure what was in front of her.

     “Oh, thank goodness.” He whispered, before leaning forward, pressing his forehead to hers.

His hand was on her cheek and somehow, he could smell her. He didn’t know how much time he had left, what was even going on, but whatever it was, he was going to make use of. 

     “I love you so, so much. I am so glad I could fall in love with you! You have completed my life!”

The same energy that she loved so much. Kyojuro opened his eyes and stared at her wide ones, before laughing hard.

     “You’re... How are you...”

     “No time for questions, my love.”

In an instant, she kissed him. Kyojuro kissed back, holding her as tightly as he could, pressing himself to her as much as he could, for as long as he could. A second later, when she was breathless, he pulled apart.

There was a light only he could see. And he knew he had to go. 

Ah.

That was why he hadn’t passed on.

Letting out a silent ‘thank you’ to whatever had given him this chance, Rengoku whispered one last time,

     “I love you, (y/n). We will meet again.”

When she burst into tears at his disappearance, she felt a bit more whole than she did before. Perhaps, it was because he was such a pure soul, he was given the chance to return again. She would never know.

But, the mere fact that he had come for her had now given her a new reason to live.

     “I love you so much, Rengoku Kyojuro. Flame Hashira. Love of my life.”

❞

[0itmelex0]

because it’s been a while since we talked about these two. Kyra and Arlee are… so freaking cute, but also do they technically sorta fall under the enemies to lovers umbrella?? I’m curious. This is also me attempting the crossover ask idk if it’s going well or if I just got really off topic

Kyra and Arlee.... my beloved bbies. I can’t believe it’s been so long since we’ve talked about them, especially since they’re just so amazing.

In terms of them falling under the enemies to lovers umbrella? I’d somewhat consider them that. So if you remember correctly, them getting together is taking place within the AU of Jon and Arleena being raised by the Dawnguards alongside Rhaenys. I haven’t planned out a lot of fine details, but the fact that at least Arleena goes to King’s Landing as another spy of sorts so that the Dawnguards can keep intel on what’s happening is a definite. So the fact that Arleena is from an opposing group and is mostly in King’s Landing for not an ally of the crown, who includes some of Kyra’s family, would naturally put them under the umbrella of enemies to lovers even if it isn’t the full on “oh I hate you” type of thing.

If I were to get specific of the dynamic that I envision for them over the course of the AU I’d probably say that they’re strangers —> friends —> lovers —> estranged friends (?) —> lovers

Okay, now into my ideas for these two within the AU... there is a lot so I’mma put it all under the cut

They meet at King’s Landing after Maecy introduces her new handmaiden named Arleena to her daughter, Kyra. There’s a somewhat instant click of at least familiarity and small connection whatever it is, there’s just something, and momma Maecy sniffs this out instantly

Whenever Kyra and Maecy talk unless it’s super personal type things, Maecy “casually” has Arleena at least nearby. Always ends up with Kyra and Arlee talking, doesn’t matter what or how... it just happens. After a few times of this happening, Maecy totally doesn’t just leave the room and the girls are so into whatever conversation they’re having that they don’t notice that Maecy has left

Eventually it gets to a point where the girls actually seek out each other to talk and get to know one another without momma Maecy making that push

They’re around each other so often that Maecy decides “oh hey, how about Arlee becomes Kyra’s handmaiden instead? I already have a couple and it’s kinda unnecessary for me to have a lot”.... yeah Maecy totally wasn’t trying to set anything up

Kyra totally doesn’t need a handmaiden and has denied needing them in the past but... yknow she ain’t denying this time

It’s less of Arleena helping Kyra with things that handmaidens do and more so them just hanging out

They start practicing using swords together even though both are very good at using a sword... kinda takes Kyra by surprise of how well Arlee handles herself with a sword

Basically at this point, Arleena has failed with her intended mission of being in King’s Landing, but she has genuinely gotten good information but it’s Sani doing a lot of the intel collecting. Poor woman has been doing it for 20+ years but it’s okay

Kyra and Arlee go to the Red Keep’s garden after Arlee mentions her favorite flower which is bellflowers btw to see if the garden grew them, which it did. Kyra picks a bellflower and puts it in Arlee’s hair, specifically weaved in a braid that Kyra herself made prior. Then that’s when the two have their first kiss

Those two have no idea what to do and in all honesty, they don't talk for a while like a few days to a week and it's after Kyra talked to momma Maecy and papa Russal, he's alive in this, yay! who happened to be in King's Landing for a brief time, that Kyra is able to actually confront Arleena

They kiss again and that's when they actually get together

Kyra decides to leave with papa Russal to go back to Tarth for a time, Arleena comes with. Totally just because Arleena is Kyra's handmaiden and not because they're dating now

If you don't believe this is them on Tarth, then you're lying to yourself

Everything is great for a while, they're just two girls in love with no problems

It's when Arleena needs to return to the Dawnguards for reasons that it starts crumbling

Kyra finds out through a letter Arleena has gotten that there's things that Arleena hasn't told her

She confronts Arleena about the letter she founds, and that's when Arleena reveals the fact that she's the daughter of Rhaegar Targaryen, aka the man who nearly killed Kyra's father on the trident

Just a lot is revealed to Kyra actually. Dawnguards. . . the fact that Lyanna Stark is Arleena's mother, that Lyanna Stark is alive, the fact that Maecy was aware of who Arleena really was

Kyra feels betrayed and lied to, even after Arleena explains and tries to defend her actions. Basically too late at this point

Arleena leaves Tarth and goes back to the Dawnguards for the reasons needed

Both girls are just in a not so good point in life

Kyra tries to move on and just continue with her life

Arleena deals with Dawnguard things. . . she totally doesn't end up killing Daltis after she finds out his true intentions and how he's not as good as he's acted, how corrupt he truly was. Arlee becomes leader of the Dawnguards afterwards

It's when Arleena gets intel that Cersei is having a worrying amount of wildfire produce alongside the fact that Kyra Tarth is back in King's Landing that she attempts to return in order to talk to Kyra again

It's because of the argument that Kyra and Arlee get into that saves Kyra, Maecy, and Russal from dying in the destruction of the Great Sept of Baelor

Kyra and Maecy go to the Dawnguards with Arleena after deciding King's Landing is very much not safe. Russal is so fucking hesitant and not a fan with this idea, but he knows how much Lyanna meant to Maecy and how despite the major strain between the girls, how much Arleena means to Kyra

They spend a while with the Dawnguards. It's nice to see momma Maecy happy to see her best friend again, but it's still a bit weird for Kyra and Arleena for a while.

They're kinda friends? It's hard to deny that connection they've shared since the moment they met, but that barrier is still there for how Arleena lied about basically everything

It's when the Dawngaurds head to the North to help House Stark take Winterfell back from the Boltons, and stay in the North to help against the white walkers eventually that Kyra and Arlee head in the direction of becoming what they were

But honestly everything is kinda weird overall, kinda an uncertain time as the North prepares for the white walkers and trying to gain allies to save Westeros

Both girls fight in the Battle of Winterfell alongside the Dothraki, the Unsullied, Dany with her dragons, the Dawnguards, the Northernmen, Free Folk, and a few sworn houses under House Baratheon and ofc any other groups I forgot to mention against the Night King

Kyra and Arlee are both quite stubborn so they didn't resolve anything prior to the battle. . . they totally should have though, but they didn't

It's when Kyra sees Arleena almost freaken die during the battle that she realizes that it's not worth living a life with resentment against people you care about

Kyra saves Arlee from dying and they continue fighting side by side for the rest of the battle, being the badasses they are

They are just so exhausted by the end of the battle that they collapse on the ground together, it hasn't fully settled in the amount of loss that has happened

Kyra and Arleena look at each other while on the ground, and Kyra whispers "I never stopped loving you" and that's when they kiss again for the first time in a long time

Honestly, these two need a break at this point. Between dealing with the losses from the battle and dealing with whatever they have, they deserve a break

But nah, they don't get it, they have to deal with Cersei

The battle at King's Landing alongside the assassination of Dany just adds to the outside burden and weighs them down, but they're working through it

During the great council meeting, both of them are there

When Bran is offered the chance of becoming King of the Six Kingdoms, him with his Three Eyed Raven weird vibes, he denies it and says somebody else is meant to take the place

He's absolutely alluding to Arleena with the fact she was raised to become a leader and all this stuff he shouldn't know but since he's the Three Eyed Raven, he does know

Arleena being the flustered girl she is of being put on the spot by this weird ass kid, she is hesitant as fuck but since many of the people there have seen what kind of leadership she has and the fact of how much she truly knows Westeros from growing up with the Dawnguards honestly more than some of them combined, they agree to the idea of her becoming queen so she accepts

Kyra is so fucking happy and proud of her, but in the back of her mind the idea of because of the role Arleena now has, things might not go back to what they were between the two of them

Arleena requests for Kyra to stay in King's Landing with her at least for a time, which Kyra absolutely agrees to

That night, the two spend time alone to talk

For context, they're not officially dating dating like they had before all that time ago but they're basically dating

In that time of privacy, Arlee asks if Kyra will become her queen consort

Kyra doesn't quite know what to say, but the fact of Arleena saying she will deal with any and all of the criticism thrown at her by the houses of Westeros alongside the Faith that might come with making gay marriage legal just so that they could be together is what helps her decide that she'd agree when able

Thankfully with the amazing Samwell Tarly as the Grand Maester, it isn't much of a battle to legalize gay marriage in Westeros. There's a bit of backlash, but mostly from the Faith but whatever, having church have a big influence on government is a no go with this queen

Arleena refuses to have an official fancy schmancy coronation yet

The two girls are just estatic and have grown closer during this time after the council meeting until up to this point

Arleena asks Kyra again if she'll become her wife and the Queen Consort of the Six Kingdoms, to which Kyra says yes to

They have a fancy ass wedding, but it's not a huge wedding. Arleena is the Queen of the Six Kingdoms after all, it has to be fancy

Arleena finally decides to set up her official coronation, and both her and Kyra are crowned as queens of the Six Kingdoms

[tylerwritez]

Tuesday, june 22 2021

I've noticed I'm getting "the shiverys" or "the twitchy" a lot today. Like every time I FEEL something I take a moment to violently tic.... every time I think about certain things I tic.... good things, bad things, things from an hour ago and things from years ago. Tic, tic, tic.

Also, I have... some stuff to explain. Its really no big deal, but you know me: I'll freak out about it anyway. Basically I dissed my friend (rightfully so) around the time that we had just met cos they did something that threw me off.

He saw it in my phone... NOW. it's not RELEVANT anymore and I've since redacted that criticism...and now I gotta explain it to him anwyays. Oh well. I'm good at this stuff. I can get myself outta any situation. I dont even know why I'm talking like this tho... it's not a "Situation" it's just smthn I gotta explain rq.

Oh, today's song recommendation is Spirit Crusher by Death. I'm a huge Death fan...

Also! I gotta study... for my replacement exam. How stressful. Its about photosynthesis, but like, it's not simple. We went DEEP inside those fucking leaves.

One sec, lemme hook up my IV tube

Not an ACTUAL IV tube... just my headphones. But since I'm so #emo, it might as well be a fucking IV tube with the way that I cant live without it.

Its 3:08 and I'm walking home now. I was upset last night but me and Star have made up now lol... it was thAt easy. I'm so defective, making shit hard when it doesnt need to be.

It's so hot out damn. Idk. I had school today, so I had Bio class... I ACTUALLY PAID ATTENTION for once. I had lunch with Star and her friend group, and I honestly kinda feel like they're MY friends now too, even just a little bit.

Actually, I used to rant about feeling lonely like all the time but now I have so many friends it's crazy they all keep inviting me places and it's like people WANT ME AROUND... idk. It makes me happy.

Today I gotta ask if tommroow after school I can go to Bee's house to watch Supernatural (famous homoerotic ghost show)

I should also add songs to Erin's spotify playlist for our picnic saturday which I still need permission to go to.

I gotta ask for Wednesday after school to watch Insidious with Jay  which is apparently really good

Also hes the friend that I gotta explain stuff to... the DrAmA... the ThEaTrE....

Update my dad said yes to hanging out with Bee but first I'm gonna miss school to fix my broken brackets on my braces

Also turns out the house I THOUGHT we were moving into has substantial damage from shifting so... we aRENT moving there.

In case you didn't know, shifting is when like the house that's been built literally SHIFTS like it moves around.

Anwyays Jay just texted me... I'm gonna change into shorts since it's hot, set up my study area,.... and respond to him.

The time is 3:22 p.m.

Wish me. Luck.

Luck is plentiful! As it so often is in my risky, risky life.

I play my cards right. It's a learnt skill.

But also there wasnt much to explain since it passed already and was tiny anywyas.

XD so I've made up with the whole goddamn world by now.

Its 6:31, we saw 1 house. Only one. Its kinda hot out but I'm gonna bike now since we just had supper. I finally finished my homework... I just have to finish one mixed media piece as my final project for art!

Friday is my replacement. On photosynthesis and cell resp. We know this. But what I didn't mention, or I dont THINK I did, is that if I finish my art project before then I have the second block FREE!!! Me, Star, and her friend

A are planning to leave for second block and maybe get mint chocolate chip ice cream!

Also I might eat her out XD

Anyways idk. I hope I can bike tonight to call Jay.

I keep accidentally using people's real names here then having to correct it... I dont know how much i care about MY identity being discovered... but to have my friends doxxed would suck.

Man I feel bad abt saying fuck star last night cos we made up....

Wait we r looking at another house? Idk I'm in the car still waiting to go home

Oh wait no now we r goin home

Its 6:39... I hope I still have time.

I went biking, called Jay. Went home. Idk, friendly conversation... we talked more tonight and I also talked to my other friend A. Jay is... I LOVE HIM?? SO MUCH??? I feel so happy. Talking to him thinking about him seeing his STUPID FUCKING FACE JESUS. his eyes alone... I could stare at his face all day probably. I want to kiss him... hOLD HIS HAND... omg... huG HIM!!! Eofjwpxjwie he's so sweet like I can't even... and I'm proabably not good enough for him like. Wtf. Hes easily a 10. And I dont rate things outta 10. How tf do I end up with HIM? Doing stuff, as friends. Like wHAT. I guess I got lucky XD. He says he loves my personality and I'm hot XD ofc I dont see it myself. But like. JESUS CHRIST he could proabably easily pull whOever. XD me?

Whatever though. As long as we r together and stuff. I LOVE HIM A LOT. he said he loved me. Every time he says that it makes me so overly happy.

Maybe I'm just sappy and stuff.... whatever. I think it would be nice to be hugged by him.

Yeah I'm cheesy.

I'm sorta tired now so maybe I'm not writing the best.

I just keep thinkinf about love. Love is a muscle of evil suggestion. But how evil can it really be? I am just a human being and that is all. Everything else is applied. I am just a human being with soemthing in my heart that pulls me all over the place. Love is this strange thing because I'm fucked up and to be able to love without that fucked up part of me, without the damage... is this complicated, hard thing to do and I can NEVER tell if I'm doing it right but I know I'm DOING IT. I know I FEEL LOVE. And soemtimes it's such an intense thing like when you go to surf on a wave at the beach with ur belly but u hit it wrong and it's so big and overwhelming it washes over you and PULLS you down to the bottom and smushes your face into the sand and YOU CANT BREATHE jesus Christ it's like that.

Or maybe I just want to experience love as it should be felt.

Obviously all of my problems surrounding this Damage could be easily fixed if I went to therapy but. there are reasons I can't.

I LOVE a lot. Too much for my own good. Enough to hurt me, get me into trouble, etc etc but also... enough to liberate me. I LOVE. I love Jay. So much. LIKE. MY BRAIN ORBITS AROUND HIM CONSTANTLY THINKING OF HIM AND PRAISING HIM AND MWUAH HE IS SO LOVELY I BOW BEFORE HIM...

I think as much as I love, a lot of the times I tend to focus even more on BEING loved.

If I am told I am loved, and shOwN I am loved... it is one of the most powerful things. Especially since I was literally emotionally neglected in childhood... yeah. I feel like I'm always trying to fill that hole.

Not EVERY feeling I have is for that reaosn but sometimes, if you tell me you love me, show me you love me, hug me,... I'll like start crying,,, that's the childhood emotional neglect kicking in. If you call me #smol and #cute and say I look young and fragile which happens more often than you'd think XD, I know I'm not supposed to like that shit, so I act like I dont....but I do. Which is PROBABLY ALSO THE CEN 🤪  like whatever lol

Anwyays I'm fucked up

You see how quickly things become complicated in my mind?

Convoluted? Is that the word?

Whatever. I OVERCOMPLICATE THINGS COS I OVERTHINK THEM BECAUSE I'm LITERALLY MENTALLY ILL IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS. I'm not joking. I obviously have unresolved undiagnosed "issues"

I do Suspect things, though.

I can make a list

Maybe I shouldn't.

Maybe I will.

I shouldnt.

Whatever.

I used to hate when people brought up my self harm. I would actually panic. I still self harm but now? Now I'm fine with anyone  talking about it as long as it's not an adult who can get me into trouble/force me into therapy over it. Because really? I kinda like having it mentioned. It's kinda validating and it's like hey... people can see that I'm sick.

I dont do it so people talk to me about it though. Dont get me wrong. If I did, I'd go vertically on the arms, not for suicide but so it healed and people would ask XD.

My scars are actually VERY hidden... cos I never intended for ANYONE to see. But for those who DO see them,,,, it's nice soemtimes to have people express concern.

I dont wanna be PITIED or anything, but idk I just think to myself "wow, they're CONCERNED... about ME... they arent angry or mean... they didnt yell at me or threaten me... they respect my autonomy and privacy...

And they CARE ABOUT ME..." and it makes me cry.

That's also the CEN.

I dont know. I just like when people express genuine concern. Even if they see and then just ask if I'm okay. That's all it takes cos then I go wow.

Its validating and irs lovely because finally people care... FINALLY PEOPLE CARE. FINALLY I GET SOME EMPATHY OR SYMPATHY AND NO ANGER.

Even just having them brought up tells me its noticeable enough

My brain does this thing where it thinks nothing bad that's ever happened to me was Bad Enough for me to be upset about.

And I dont know... its nice sometimes to be told shit like "omg that looks so bad" or to see that people who do see my cuts are somewhat shocked or revolted... it's nice because I go... "hey, it was bad enough for them..."

Or to have people comment on them with concern. Just ANYTHINT WHERE PEOPLE NOTICE IT AND ARENT ASSHOLES ABOUT IT IS VALIDATING.

Because I'm not used to that...

Because CEN

I'm. The worst perosn on the fucking planet.

I should kill myself.

I suddenly actually feel so self hating I do want to kill myself... oh god.

I ruin everything. Everything. Everything. Everything. What have I done. Like. Why. Oh god.

I'm just remembering when Star said my kindness seemed like an act. And how I've been called out for seeming fake like 2 other times.

DO I SEEM FAKE???? I DONT EVER PUT ON ACTS OF KINDESS.... CONCIOUSLY? but the very idea that I could be perceived that way...

Should I like not try to be nice or some shit?

Jesus christ she hurts my feelings even now when it was a long time ago.

But I cant blame her. I can't blame anyone for how i feel except my parents because they left me with fucking. Heart nerve damage or some shit.

I'm tired and now I'm sad too. Goodnight guys.

[darkpoisonouslove]

Valtor and Griffin as a single parent AU! (quarantine has been killing me😭)

Aww, I’m so sorry, hon! And I feel you. I’ve barely been outside for the past 8 days and I’m starting to get antsy myself. I got some things done today that I’ve been putting off for literal months and I felt a bit better but idk how long that will last. Which is why burying ourselves in AUs seems like the best solution. XD

I actually do have an AU (my fashion designer AU) in which Griffin is a single parent to Darcy so I’ll just set these in there when Valtor needs to interact with the 9-year-old girl because of his joined work with her mom.

1. Valtor isn’t charmed when his work with Griffin is interrupted by a little girl running into Griffin’s office. But then he’s shocked when he learns that’s her daughter. He didn’t know she had a daughter. Griffin is a hell beast when it comes to her privacy and she does everything to make sure her daughter’s face, name or even existence won’t end up in all the tabloids. She’s mostly managed to keep the girl away from the media and not everyone in her circles knows that she has a daughter. It is definitely a surprise to Valtor. Even more so when he’s met with a frown and gets stared down by the little girl. Darcy is super protective of her mama because she’s scared of losing her and she does her best to make Valtor leave before Griffin tells her that they have urgent work they need to get done. Darcy only relents when Griffin allows her to stay with them which is about the worst news for Valtor in the situation but she is surprisingly quiet and disciplined and he even forgets she’s there until she compliments him on how well he draws. Valtor can’t quite return the compliment and needs to bite his tongue when he sees her drawing so as to not call it ugly. Griffin notices, of course, and looks grateful that he managed to hold back and not offend her daughter. (there’s more going on in this scene but I’ll keep some surprises for the actual AU (if I can ever get to writing it) since I also haven’t thought it all out yet).

2. Griffin calls Valtor to cancel a work meeting because Darcy isn’t feeling well and she needs to stay home with her. Valtor offers to go to her house and work there and Griffin accepts, not because she’s too comfortable with him but because they really need to work to meet their deadline. Darcy seems rather happy to see Valtor considering her behavior the last time. It turns out it is because she drew him a present and she wanted to give it to him. Valtor expects the same unrefined figures as last time but instead he finds the intricate pattern of the vest he wore last time almost perfectly replicated. Griffin smirks at his stunned expression and he has to admit that Darcy has an eye for details. The kid lights up at that and Griffin has to bribe her with promises of pancakes in the morning to make her go to bed since it’s late and she doesn’t feel well anyway. She shouldn’t have been up at all but she was excited Valtor was coming because she’d wanted to give him the present in person for ages now. Valtor feels oddly flattered before this deep sadness takes over him when Griffin promises she’ll be back as soon as she reads Darcy a bedtime story. He tries not to think about the fact that the only bedtime stories he ever got were those his own imagination would come up with. He might have gotten the inspiration for some of his models from there so he’s glad he had them. Griffin does come back down but she can’t seem to focus when she’s worried for her child and also tired and Valtor tells her to go get some rest and that he’ll work on the dress and they can discuss his progress some of the following days. Griffin thanks him so heatedly that he even starts feeling uncomfortable but he’s still glad he managed to make her feel a bit better (they started out really disliking each other) as it looks like she has enough on her mind already and he has to admit he admires her for always having everything under control when she has so many things to think about.

3. Griffin and Valtor are working at Griffin’s office when Ediltrude calls and starts talking, not even giving Griffin the opportunity to tell her she’s on speaker and Valtor is there. It is Valtor himself who interrupts her but not before he hears that she wants to tell Griffin about some man she’s found who’ll go out with her despite the fact that she’s a single mother to a small child. Ediltrude says she’ll call later to give details and Griffin ends the call after telling her she can keep her details. Valtor isn’t surprised by the poor history of Griffin’s dating life now that she has Darcy - he was more surprised by the fact that Griffin didn’t immediately try to switch the topic and opted to share instead - but it still hit hard to learn that the fact that she’s a mother pushes people away (and he might feel a little guilty because that would have been him, too, if he’d been dating Griffin instead of working with her). Not that she gives him a lot of time to feel sorry for her. She tells him that it’s better that way because her daughter is the most important person to her in the whole world and she’d gladly trade any man she could date for her daughter’s happiness. That also seems to hit Valtor hard when he realizes that he could easily trade all of the people he’s ever been with, too, but he doesn’t have anybody to do that for. He’s all alone. The atmosphere gets heavy and he is more than grateful for Darcy barging in on them again. He’s definitely surprised when Darcy starts begging Griffin to have him over for dinner but he still agrees to go. Even more so when Griffin decides to set the dinner on the day Ediltrude was trying to set up a date for her. And Darcy doesn’t miss to tell him that it’s his turn to bring her a present, making Griffin chastise her for that but he’s actually amused and promises he’ll bring one.

4. Valtor does bring her a present when he comes to visit. It’s a painting of a big purple dragon protecting its little dragon and Darcy doesn’t falter even for a moment before dubbing the mother Griffin and the little dragon Darcy making Valtor laugh and say that that’s exactly what had given him the idea for the painting since Darcy already seems to be fierce just like her mother. Griffin rolls her eyes but still thanks him for the painting and says she’ll hang it in Darcy’s room. They have pizza since Darcy insisted even though Griffin had set out to cook but even Valtor has already learned that when Darcy wants something, she knows how to get it. Griffin did make cookies, though, which Darcy convinces Valtor to try since she was scandalized when she learned he doesn’t eat sweets. He joked that he couldn’t tell if it tasted that good because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something sweet or because Griffin was a miracle in the kitchen and the only reason Darcy didn’t throw a cookie in his face was because she didn’t want to waste the delicious treats on him (and also because Griffin threatened to ground her if she did before she also scolded Valtor for prompting her daughter to start a food fight). Valtor also had some chocolate milk with the cookies per Darcy’s insistence and he could swear he was feeling the sugar poisoning starting to take hold but he still got the cookies Griffin offered to pack him for home. He didn’t think he’d eaten home cooked anything before and they were delicious, after all. He had another shock when Darcy asked him to braid her hair while Griffin was doing the dishes. He didn’t know how so Darcy made them switch so that she was braiding his hair that was long enough for that. Griffin was definitely fighting a laugh when she saw the end result but Darcy was glowing so he did his best not to grumble too much. He had to admit he had a fun and very fresh evening that was very different from anything else he’d done before. And Griffin was saved from the blind date disaster so it was a win for all.

5. Valtor was more than surprised when Darcy showed up in his office one day when she was supposed to be at school. She told him she’d ran away because she needed to ask him something. He called Griffin to let her know Darcy was with him which he was assured was the right thing when he heard how worried she was and how she calmed down when she learned where her daughter was. Darcy did tell him what she’d come for, though, before Griffin came to get her. Griffin apologized for the inconvenience and ushered Darcy out of his office before he managed to tell her it wasn’t a problem. He did get to work on what Darcy wanted, though, and a few weeks later when it was ready, he and Darcy showed it to Griffin. It was a dress that was Darcy’s idea and Valtor’s design and was for the event Griffin and Valtor were working together for. It had flame motifs in indigo that burned into the black fabric littered with gems above them that looked like small stars and the cut on the back made it look like small dragon wings were attached to it. Griffin was absolutely touched and kicked them out to gather herself before officially accepting the dress that she wore proudly at the event, of course. And Valtor felt some of her happiness seep into him and make him feel proud of his work for the first time in years.

Okay, that got long again. I can’t seem to be able to keep these under control. Hope you liked it!

[nastybuckybarnes]

Bodyguard  -  One

(Doesn’t he kinda look like Sebastian Stan???)

Pairing: Bodyguard!Bucky X Politician!Reader

Summary: As a young and controversial politician, you face some opposition. After a death threat is made and your security is at risk, you agree to get a bodyguard. You don’t expect him to be the most irritating and attractive man on the planet. With a history so deep and twisted you never thought you’d figure it out, a terrible corporation is determined to take you out of the political picture; using any means necessary. The only question is, how far is James willing to go to ensure your safety?

Warnings: Angst, Violence, threats, injuries, kidnapping, drugging, political talk (not a lot), terrorism (Wait for the plot twist tho guys), Smut, Fluff, PTSD, (More to Come)

Word Count: 2.5K

A/n: Part one is now up! I hope you guys like it. I think this will be a fast paced story. Idk though.

BASED OFF OF THE NETFLIX ORIGINAL: BODYGUARD TAGLIST IS OPEN MASTERLIST

~*~

Feet pounding through mud, the squishy sound disgusting.

Distant gunshots and screams of pain.

The distinct stench of smoke, rotting flesh, and gunpowder.

This is war. This is where he’s been trapped.

“Sarge, get down!” Then he’s on the ground, a gunshot echoing loudly as the heavy weight of his general covers his body.

“Isabel? Isabel?!” He pushes her off gently, tapping her cheeks a few times to try and revive her. It’s all pointless, however, when he notices the red staining her clothes from a bullet that tore through her stomach and embedded in his bulletproof vest.

“No. No, no, no, no. Please, no.” She lies unmoving in her black suit, her eyes closed.

Bucky raises his head and searches for the shooter, grabbing his own gun as he pinpoints their location.

His finger twitches twice and then the gunman falls, blood pouring from two wounds on his chest.

His eyes flash back to the dead woman on the ground in front of him, rage filling him as he screams and curses to every and any Gods listening.

He screams himself hoarse then collapses in a heap beside her body, sobbing uncontrollably for hours on end.

~*~

He wakes with a jolt, body drenched in sweat, left shoulder aching.

“Fuck,” he whispers to the darkness, rubbing his eyes and shoving himself into a seated position.

How many months has it been? And still, nearly every night without fail, he has the same goddamn nightmare.

~*~

“Sergeant Barnes. I have a new assignment for you.” He stands stiffly in front of Director Fury’s desk.

“It’s a… protective detail. Of a Politician. I don’t know how comfortable you are with this but you’re the best man for the job.” He stays stoic as ever, although inside he’s fuming.

Politicians are the reason he had to go fight that war in the first place.

“I accept the assignment, Sir.” Fury pinches the bridge of his nose and purses his lips. “This Politician. She’s the Secretary of State. At twenty-six years old. Youngest in History.” Bucky’s jaw clicks.

“My point is, she’s good at what she does, stubborn, and won’t go down without a fight. She’s worked with foreign affairs, which is why I’m hesitant.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Sir, am I going to be briefed for this assignment or not?” Fury sets his hands down on his desk, looking at the Sergeant with his one good eye.

“That’s what’s happening now. I’m briefing you. Her name is (Y/n) (Y/l/n). Her father was a politician, shot in the head November third while driving. They never caught the man responsible for her father’s death but she took after him. Now, she’s been receiving death threats, some with pictures of herself in them.”

“Pictures, sir?”

“Yes. Of her grocery shopping, walking her dog. Things like that. Too close for comfort. So Tony Stark, a dear friend of her father’s, the man who took her in and basically raised her, insisted that we have someone on this case.”

Bucky’s quiet, thinking about everything being said to him.

“Oh, one more thing I should probably tell you,” Fury begins, his face revealing no emotion. “She… doesn’t really agree with this whole ‘bodyguard’ thing. She’ll try to fight you on it, and this woman knows how to get under your skin. She’s a spitfire. You need to keep a clear head and not let her get to you.”

“Understood, Sir.” Fury hands him a thick file.

“You meet her tomorrow morning at her office, first thing. Lay down some ground rules, tell her what’s going to be happening. Do not let her rile you up. Am I understood, Sergeant?” He nods, his jaw clenched tight. “Understood, Director.”

~*~

“Shit! Shit shit shit!” You jump out of your office chair and search through some papers, desperate to find what you’re looking for.

“(Y/n). Lovely (Y/n).” You groan at the voice and slump back down in your chair.

“Yes, Tony? What do you want?” He practically prances into the room, a happy smile on his face.

“The PPO is here. Thought it’d be a great time to introduce the two of you. So, Madame Secretary, meet Sergeant James Barnes.” The man Tony introduces is tall and thick, his well-tailored suit straining against him. He’s got short hair and a blank expression on his face.

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am. I was hoping we could discuss a few things and alterations that will be implemented in your everyday life.” You shoot Tony a glare then clear your throat.

“I’m actually really busy right now. I don’t have time to chit chat.” He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath.

“I understand that you’re trying to do your job, but I also need you to understand that I need to do mine. Now, Within the next hour, we will discuss the changes in routes, entrances, names, and phone numbers. Your safety is my number one concern. Any questions?”

You stifle a groan and throw your hands up. “Yeah. Is this really necessary? It’s not even that big of a deal!” Tony scoffs and tosses an envelope on your desk.

“Wanted to wait ‘till your bodyguard got here to show you guys these.” You open it carefully, a shudder going through you as you see the pictures of yourself.

One as you’re entering the building, one as you’re leaving, one from a few days ago when you went to the bank, another from the grocery store, and one outside your house.

“I think we need to raise the threat level,” Sergeant Barnes says, analyzing the pictures carefully. “I agree one hundred percent. Now that we know they’ve been watching her house I don’t want her alone there.”

“Jesus Tony! I’m not a fucking child who needs a babysitter. No offence,” you add the last part, glancing at the officer.

“None taken Ma’am.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you recognize Tony’s signature bitch-face. There’s no use arguing.

“Fine. Tell me whatever you have planned to fuck up my life.”

Sergeant Barnes sits down in one of the chairs across from your desk and you collapse into your own, waiting for him to begin.

“Firstly, I agree with Mr. Stark. They know where you live and where you go. It would be unwise for you to be going places alone, especially if you’ve been receiving detailed threats on your life.” You don’t respond and he takes that as his cue to continue.

“I also think cutting out contact with anyone you don’t need to talk to would be ideal. It’s clear that there are people everywhere who don’t… agree with you. People who want to do you harm. We need to minimize your accessibility. That also means using different routes, potentially switching cars halfway through a commute. You are clearly a target, and we need to be as cautious as we possibly can. I’ve already established a team prepared to set up perimeter’s around designated areas, do patrolling all night if need be, and do anything in their power to keep you safe, as I will do.”

Tony seems to relax at his words. You, however, only get tenser. “Alright. Fine. I know I can't argue this anyway. I agree to all these terms and whatever.” Just as you’re about to reach for your phone, he clears his throat.

“One more thing,” the corners of his lips twitch for a moment before falling back into the stone expression. “The Director who assigned me to be your PPO wanted to warn me that you can be… hard to deal with at times. I want to let you know that when I tell you to do something, you’ll listen. I am protecting your life, not being a nuisance. If you question me when we’re in a tense situation, it will only add to the precautions I must take to ensure your safety. Understood?” You simply nod, rolling your eyes and making a mental note to speak with whoever he’s talking about.

“Okay. Now that your schpeel is over, I’m going to get food. I haven’t eaten a single thing all day, and now all I want is to grab some takeout and go home to work on paperwork in peace and quiet. Is that understood? That I’m getting myself food whether you like it or not?” A muscle in his jaw twitches and you nod.

“Perfect. Now let’s go. I assume you’re going to be less than a foot from me at all times, so let’s get this nightmare over with already.”

~*~

“Ma’am, I know it’s not my place, but why aren’t you the least bit afraid for your safety?” The Sergeant asks after your house has been thoroughly scoured, all while you act like it’s some kind of joke.

“Because. This isn’t the first time this has happened. People don’t like politicians. So they do things to try and scare us off. If I let them scare me then they’re winning.” He nods and stands almost awkwardly by the door to your office.

“You can leave, you know. Go… home or wherever.” He shakes his head and stays standing stiffly.

“I’m not leaving tonight. Mr. Stark agrees that it’s best to have someone with you at all times. An Agent is coming with my stuff. I’ll stay in whichever room you deem fit for me.” You rub your eyes then sigh.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs. Last door on the left. That’s where you can stay. Now please, can I have some privacy to finish these papers?” He analyzes the room once more, then nods.

“I’ll be within earshot if you need me.” You nod and watch as he walks out of the room, one finger touching his earpiece as he murmurs softly to whoever’s on that line.

You have about an hour of peace before there’s a knock on your door.

“Stay in your study, Ma’am. I’ll get it.” You hear the door open slowly, followed by the beep beep beep of your alarm system.

“Sarge,” A female voice says. Curiosity fills you and you slowly rise out of your seat, heading towards the front door.

“Madame Secretary,” The woman greets you without looking away from The Sergeant. “Ma’am, this is Agent Romanoff. She’s one of the members of the team I was telling you about.” The redhead finally looks at you, her green eyes becoming hard.

“I’m sorry we had to meet under such circumstances. I do hope that these issues get resolved quickly so you can sleep better at night.” You offer her a tight smile then turn on your heel, ready to head back to your study.

“Ma’am, Agent Romanoff has brought to my attention that there are no locks on the windows on the second floor.” You furrow your brows and turn back to them. “Uh, no there aren’t. How does she know that?” She raises a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“People who want you dead aren’t going to knock on your door. They’ll try the windows first. If any are unlocked or lacking locks, then they can easily come in and do with you what they want.” You nod, humming a bit to agree.

“That may be true, agent, but in my experience… locks have never stopped them either.”

You turn around and walk back to your study, trying not to relive the memories of the past.

“Wow, Buck. You’ve got your work cut out for you.” He elbows Natasha in the ribs and she chuckles. “Shut up. Now, where’s my stuff.” She passes him two duffle bags then follows him upstairs, making sure the front door is locked.

“Why do you push the buttons of everyone you meet, Nat?” He asks, opening the door to the spare bedroom and tossing the bags on the bed. “She’s the youngest Secretary of State ever. Her work… is incredible. She’s prevented so many possible terrorist attacks and has lessened the American casualties in foreign affairs by ten percent, and it’s hardly been five years. She’s an amazing woman who needs to be protected and quite possibly put in her place.” Bucky sighs heavily and shakes his head.

“Nat, she’s scared. She’s scared and stressed because of her job. Just… let her be. Okay? I’ve got this handled.” Natasha shrugs but drops the subject, looking around the room carefully. Her eyes dart to the window and she purses her lips for a moment.

“Go tell Madame Secretary that she needs locks on all her windows by tomorrow. Buy them and install them yourself if she refuses. She needs locks. The second-floor windows aren’t all that hard to climb up to. She should be afraid.”

He glares at her and shakes his head. “I’m not going to instill unnecessary and unwanted fear in her. I’ll install some locks tomorrow. But until then, she’ll make due. Like she has been for the past however long. Now, I’m sure Director Fury wants you back now. Or something.” She rolls her eyes but heads down the stairs, taking note of everything she can on her way out.

~*~

“Lavender on the move. Stay close.” You roll your eyes at the name you’ve been given in what you call ‘secret police terms’.

“Does Agent Romanoff always climb onto the rooves of Politicians to check if their windows have locks?” You ask, not raising your eyes from your phone as your bodyguard looks at you through the rearview mirror.

“Agent Romanoff likes to be thorough.” You nod, seemingly uninterested.

An email is what holds your attention. With pictures of the redhead climbing onto your roof. Then pictures of you in your study. Then pictures of you making tea this morning.

“Ma’am, may I ask why you’re nervous?” You finally look up, teeth chewing your bottom lip as you hand him your phone.

He looks through the pictures then curses softly, grabbing his phone and dialling a number quickly. He presses the phone to his ear and starts talking fast, quiet words you can’t really hear falling from his pink lips.

Pink lips? Since when did you notice his nice lips.

You shake your head and try to focus on his words.

“Send the whole team if you have to. Have Romanoff inside the house searching for any indications of intruders. Get Stark to switch all the locks on her windows and doors and have new curtains installed. I want the surrounding area searched for any indication of where they were. I’m sending you the pictures taken and you have copies of all the other ones. Whoever it is, now knows she’s under Protective Detail and I don’t want to think about what they might do. Call me back with any news.” He hangs up and meets your eyes in the mirror.

“If you receive any more emails or texts including any pictures like this or any threats, you bring it to my attention immediately, understood?” You nod, not bothering to argue.

At this point, you’re actually getting kind of scared.

“Good. Now, let’s review your schedule for the day, shall we?”

~*~

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