#there was a super sweet man in the fish that just swallowed you ASK MORE QUESTIONS

[infinityinakiss]

when i say that my head is completely dead boy detectives right now, what i mean is that it it's 60% edwin x charles, 30% being in love with jenny, and 10% "why the FUCK was there a man in a fish at the bottom of the FUCKING SEA SERIOUSLY WHY IS NO ONE QUESTIONING THIS"

[anasanthology]

Two’s A Company, Three’s A Crowd, Four… is Just Perfect

WARNINGS: NSFW 18+ MDNI (I don’t care who reads just if your account age is set to under 18 don’t interact please), praise kink, breeding kink, very light choking, lowkey Soft Dom!Ethan Winters, possibly super light degradation but not really, overall pretty tame, fem-specific gendered terms. Not proofread.

Notes: MY FIRST FIC BE NICE!!! Honestly, I can’t tell if this is bad or not 👀 This took me days to finish because I lost energy like half way through 😭 Sorry if it’s a little ooc, I tried to not do that but it might be 🫣 ANYWAYS, hope you like it 😁 if you have any comments JUST SAY THEM they will be appreciated 💕 hope you like, lovelies ☺️

3.6k words | Ethan Winters x AFAB!Reader

You stand on the porch of a small townhouse. Feeling the cool air blow around you, you try to make yourself smaller in your coat. It was freezing outside, but gas was expensive so you walked. The sweet burn of prolonged cold nipped at your fingertips and exposed ankles. The distant cries of a young child getting louder, accompanied by heavy fevered footsteps. The door swings open and a man pokes his head out giving you a weak tired smile.

“Are you the babysitter?”

“Yes.”

That was 9 months ago, and you wouldn’t have even imagined that would have led to this.

***

“What?” Your eyes widened. ‘What did she just say?’

“I asked if you could give me a little sister. My friend has a little sister and she said that her daddy helped her mommy build her in her tummy.” Rose kept on coloring with her crayons as she talked, “Mommy’s not here, but daddy could help you,” She smiled at you then looked towards her father, “right daddy?” Ethan’s body visibly tenses at the question and he lets out an awkward laugh.

“I don’t think it works like that Rosie.”

“Why not?”

“Cause…” he swallows thickly, “cause it has to be a mommy and daddy, and she’s not a mommy.” Rose crosses her arms and puffs out her cheeks.

“That’s dumb!” She throws her crayons onto the paper and pouts.

“How ‘bout we go to bed, Rose.” You suggest.

“‘M not tired!”

“If you lay down now I’ll have time to read you that book you like, I’ll even do the funny voices.” Rose’s entire demeanor changes.

“Really? Like it when you do the fish, it’s silly.” She giggles.

“It is silly, now let’s go!” You grab Rose’s hand and lead her to her room to put her to bed. “Long ago, a young girl went with her mother to pick berries for her father who was hard at work…” You read to her making sure to do the voices extra dramatic, you always added in new voice lines to make it a little more entertaining and she loved it everytime.

***

“She’s asleep.” You walk into the kitchen finding Ethan pouring a glass of wine.

“She loves it when you read to her. Thought it was gonna be a lot harder to get her to bed since she missed her nap today.” Ethan huffed with amusement. “I can never get her down that easily, she always says I’m doing the voices wrong and that you do it better.”

“Does she really?” You walk up to the counter he’s standing by.

“Every time.” He laughs then holds his glass to you, “you want some?”

“Maybe a glass, I don’t wanna stumble home.”

“I’ve told you that I could pay for your gas to and from here, it’s not that big of an expense and it’s getting cold out.” That was Ethan, always worried about everyone else even when it inconvenienced him.

“No,” you just shake your head, “I don’t mind it. Plus, I get more steps in.”

“If your legs get cut off from frostbite you won’t get any steps in.” He starts pouring you a glass, he had already taken one out for you before you even came into the room.

“God, Ethan!” Your eyes widened and you laughed, “you’re so morbid!”

“I’m just trying to look out for you,” he slides you your glass, “and if you can’t babysit anymore I don’t think Rose will ever sleep again.” You take a sip of your drink and slosh the wine around your glass.

“Guess I’ll have to start searching for wheelchair ramps then!”

“Okay, smarty pants.” Ethan rolls his eyes.

“Or you could get her that sister, bet a new baby in the house will tire her out.” You nudge his shoulder and giggle. Ethan’s body tightens up next to you.

“Oh I… yeah that could work.” He laughs nervously and looks away as a light blush dusts his cheeks. “I’m sorry for that by the way, she… Rose has been asking for a sister since I started socializing her at that parent support group place.” You notice his embarrassment and lean in.

“Oh don’t worry, Ethan. She’s just a kid, she didn’t know what she was saying. Bet though if you bring it up in like ten years she’ll be totally embarrassed!” Ethan lets out a soft laugh but is still visibly tense.

“Yeah, probably…” he chews his lip and sucks in a breath.

“You ever thought about it?”

“W-what?” He seemed to just about jump out of his skin.

“Have you ever thought about having another kid?” You give him an amused look.

“Oh. Uh… sometimes.” Color fills his cheeks and he looks away. It was a lie. He thought about it constantly. All Ethan wanted was more kids. He just understood how much he already struggled raising Rosemary alone, and didn’t want her or another kid to suffer from his irresponsibility. 

“What did you think I meant?” You giggled and leaned in a little further, now starting to enter his space. Maybe it was the wine that emboldened you, or maybe that was just your excuse.

“I uh…” he huffed out a laugh, “I thought you meant kids with you specifically.” Immediately after saying that he realized what had just left his mouth. Wine always seemed to make him unable to shut up.

“Oh.” Your face heated up not expecting him to be so straightforward. “Well, have you?” You ask in a quieter voice.

“No! I…” he exhales and looks over at you, you guys just look at each other in silence for what feels like forever. “Yes.” His voice was so quiet if you hadn’t been laser focused on him you would’ve missed it.

“Really?” You whispered back. You didn’t sound angry or even surprised, just hopeful. He nodded.

“Have you thought about it?”

“Yes.” You answered immediately, what did you have to hide now? He wanted it too.

“You have?” Ethan looks at you completely shocked. After the words left his mouth he expected you to yell at him, slap him even, for being a creep—rightfully so, in his opinion—and then quit on the spot, not agree.

“I have.” You bite your lip and look into your glass, heat starts climbing to your face. The fact that you had thought about that… Ethan could feel his cock start to kick at his thighs.

“And what are we gonna do about that?” His voice came out a lot shakier than he intended. Sounding more like he was genuinely curious rather than confident and flirty like he intended. It didn’t matter though, hearing those words come from him made your breath hitch.

“Well…” you bite your lip thinking for a minute. ‘Oh what the hell.’ Grabbing his shirt you pull him closer and press your lips to his. It wasn’t really a hot passionate kiss, more just a ‘I really hope you don’t fire me’ kiss, well at least it wasn’t at first. Ethan’s body relaxes after a few seconds, his hands come to your waist to pull you against him. The tip of his tongue peeking from between his lips to lick a hot stripe across your bottom lip. Suddenly you’re jumping up to sit on the kitchen counter and parting your thighs so he can slot himself between them. You let your hands wander behind his back and grab at his shirt as his start to rub at your sides. One of them runs up your body to press against your neck. Your body straightens and you break the kiss with a pant.

“You like that?” He pulls back a little further so he can look from your eyes to your kiss-swollen lips. Swallowing thickly as you try to respond to his words, yet nothing seems to come out. “Hmm?” He squeezes your throat lightly and you whine. Slick pools into the gusset of your panties. You try and push your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs, only leaving you wanting and squirmy as your knees push against the sides of his hips. 

“Mmh, yeah you do.” He squeezes your neck again softly and you continue to unsuccessfully try to clench your thighs together searching for friction. Noticing this, he lets his other hand fall to your thigh so that he can pull you closer to him. Not quite close enough to feel him where you need it.

“I do, I like it.” You nod your head as you talk quietly, your eyes glazing over with want.

“Yeah?” The hand on your thigh climbs up to rest on where your thigh meets your hip and he lets his thumb run along the crotch seam of your pants. “Pretty girl.” He presses his thumb in and watches your face, seeing the way your eyelashes flutter and how your lips part slightly as you gasp. You look down to where his thumb rubs at your cunt. The fabric separating him from actually touching you providing a much needed friction on your clit.

“Ethan…” your voice nothing but a whiny whisper.

“Hmm? What sweetheart?” The hand on your throat coming up to your jaw, his thumb swiping across your lower lip making you shiver. “You want something?” He keeps eye contact and keeps rubbing his thumb around your lips. Letting his finger dip into your mouth slightly, going in and out, back and forth, slowly, never letting it move in far enough. He rubs your saliva across your lips on every hot drag out of your mouth. Your lip starts to quiver and you move your head forward a little, trying to take his thumb deeper into your mouth.

“Mmm, yes.” He bites his lip and breathes out heavily. You wrap your tongue around his thumb and start licking tentative stripes up his finger, getting more confident as his jaw slacks.

“Keep going,” he whispers, “just like that.” You let your lips close around his finger so you can start sucking around his thumb. “Oh, good girl. Doing so good for me.” His head tilts back a little before he catches himself so he can keep watching the way your lips move when you suck him in. You pull your lips off him with a pop and a string of spit connects his thumb to your lips.

“Ethan, I want more.” You take your arms from his body and put your hands on the counter, leaning back.

“You want more, what?” He raises his brows at you.

“I want more of you, want more touching.” You lean in, biting your wet lips and smiling softly.

“No.” He lets his hands move to sit over yours, pressing them softly into the counter as he leans in to you even further than you did him. “I was telling you to ask for more.” His voice is firm but gentle, and any doubt he had in the beginning was gone. It made you wet. You couldn’t help but squirm a little at what was happening, or the implication of what it could mean for later.

“Oh okay…” you swallow, “Ethan, I want more, please?” Your voice comes out whiny and shaky. 

“Of course, sweetheart.” He starts unbuttoning and unzipping your pants before helping you to stand. He stands back to watch you as you start pulling your jeans down. Ethan watches you bend forward, the way your hands slide down your legs. You're making sure to pull them off slowly and completely so you don’t look like an idiot struggling out of your pant legs. You push them to the side and look up at him as you stand. Finally really paying attention to him rather than what he’s doing. Seeing you look at him like that, he palms himself over his jeans. You stand all the way up and pull your shirt over your head. Tossing it aside before putting your hands behind your back. Biting your lip as you look from his face down to the hand that teases his cock through his pants.

“Turn around and bend over, baby.” He looks you up and down like you’re a toy and keeps touching himself.

“M’kay.” You turn around like he asks and bend yourself forward till you can feel the cold surface against your cheek.

“Good girl.” His hand roams up the back of one of your thighs all the way up to rub your lower back. You arch for him, picking your head up and putting your arm over each other in front of you. He breathes out heavily and steps forward pressing himself against your hip.

“Oh look at you. You wanna be touched don’t you, baby?” You nod your hand and bury your face in your arms. “Yeah you do.” Ethan leans in pressing his front to your back and hooks his finger under the band of your underwear. He pulls it back a little and lets it slap back against your skin softly with a smile. His hand moves down to cup your sex, the feeling making you whine. “You’re so wet. Did I do this, Hmm? You’re wet for me?” He whispers right against your neck and you nod enthusiastically.

“Yes, ‘m wet for you.” He starts carding his fingers through your slit over your underwear, soaking them even more.

“Mmm, which part? Was it when I squeezed that little throat, or maybe…” Ethan leans in further so you can feel his lips ghost over your neck, “or maybe it was when I said I fantasized about knocking you up?” You could feel your pussy gush into your panties as you moan at his words.

“Oh? Which one?” The smirk in his voice is audible.

“I… both.” Your breath is shaky and your face heats up at having to admit that.

“Both? Well I guess we’ll have to do both then. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Your lips push together hard and you press back against his hand, still sliding lazily against your slit. His hand moves up and he hooks his fingers under the band of your underwear again, but this time he starts pulling them down. Strings of slick connect you to your panties as he pulls them away.

“Look at you, so needy.” His fingers return to your slit and you arch back more. “Aww, you’re getting me all messy, baby. You know, I bet I could slip right into this needy little cunt without any preparation. You’d take it all wouldn’t you?” His fingers move to toy with your clit making you gasp.

“Mhm.” Your voice is muffled but he can still hear how whiny your tone is.

“But I’m not that mean, even though I know you’d like it. I’ll get you ready, baby, wanna hear that pretty voice while I fuck you with my fingers.” He moves his hand to line up one of his fingers and push it inside. “Oh god, so tight. Gonna stretch you out, baby.” He starts slowly dragging his finger in and out of your gummy walls. “You think you can take a little more?” Without even waiting to hear an answer he pushes another finger up into you.

“Etha-“ you whimper and bite your lip, moving backwards and forwards a little to meet his fingers when they push in. He flips his fingers over inside you and starts curling them against that spot inside you making you see stars.

“Pretty girl, you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about doing this. Bending you over the counter and filling you up while you whine and beg. Ask for it, baby. Ask me to fill you up.” He starts curling his fingers harder against your walls, pushing them against you the whole time he drags out. He stands up straight but keeps himself pressed against your hip.

“Please, Ethan. Fill me up, please.” Your voice is high and whiny. He throws his head back with a moan and starts rubbing himself against you.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah you sound so good like that. So so good.” Ethan’s voice is breathy and his other hand starts to toy with his belt, undoing it and pulling it through his belt loops to toss on the floor with a clatter. His fingers start to undo his jeans and he tries to pull them down quickly. “Shit.” He pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the loss of stimulation. “Be patient, baby.” You look back at him as he pulls his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh. When you see his cock spring free you bite your lip and moan. Unable to look away from his leaking pink tip, your thighs clench together and your toes curl in your shoes. Ethan starts teasing the vein going up his length while he watches your face. Your mouth opens in a silent moan at the sight. “You like this, sweet girl? Seeing me touch myself while looking at you all bent over and desperate?”

“Yes, Ethan. Fuck, please, I need it.” You throw your head down onto your arms, unable to watch him any longer afraid you might cum just from seeing him.

“Of course.” He steps forward and starts rubbing his hard cock through your slit.

“Ethan, pl-“ you gasp and throw your head back when he suddenly pushes in about half way. He pulls back and pushes in slowly, going further with each stroke. Ethan’s hands grip the edge of the counter and his head falls forward. He stares intently where you two connect and lets out a quiet moan. The thought of his cock leaking pre-cum into your aching hole makes you clench around him.

“Shit. Oh fuck!” Ethan lets out a strained moan and his hand slides up your back and around your throat. The feeling of his hands on you makes you push back. He grins and squeezes the sides of your throat making you clench around him again. “Oh you do like that don’chu,” he leans forward so he’s pressed against your back and pushes all the way in, his tip touching your cervix, “gonna fill up this little hole while I squeeze your throat. You want that? Want me to cream your cunt while you get choked?” Your eyes roll back and you grind up against him at his words.

“Ethan, mmm please. Oh f…” your eyes start to water and your tongue goes limp in your mouth, “wanna be full.”

“Yeah oh, sweet girl.” He talks softly and starts fucking up into you again making sure to grind his tip right against your cervix. “I’m gonna fill you till it takes, baby.” You’re completely speechless, just moaning and whining completely at his mercy. He pulls you up against him and knocks your legs apart with his foot. His other hand coming up to slip a couple fingers passed your lips, which you immediately start sucking and licking on. “There you go, being such a good girl for me.” Ethan kisses the top of your head tenderly. You make a noise and he immediately takes his fingers out of your mouth to grip your face. “Hmm? What, sweetheart?”

“Wanna be a good girl. Jus’ for you.” The hand on your throat goes down so he can rub and toy with your clit. You moan and squirm against him at the stimulation. “You gonna cum, baby? Yeah, cum right on my cock, make a mess.” Your eyes roll back and fat tears roll down your cheeks to drop onto your chest.

“Ethan I-Ethan, mmm.” You start mumbling incoherently and he finally pushes you over. He slows his movements on you clit but keeps up his pace fucking you through your orgasm.

“Good girl, feel’ so good when you cum.” He pushes you back down on the table abruptly and puts his hands on your back keeping you there. “Take it.”

“Ethan, ‘m so sensitive, please.”

“I said take it.” You couldn’t help but just moan at the way he was talking to you. Ethan was always so sweet, you couldn’t have even imagined he could speak like that. “Oh you like that? You want me to get rough with you? Hmm?” He starts fucking into you harder, his tip bullying into your cervix. Your body just goes limp against the counter and he laughs softly. “Gonna cream this needy cunt. You want that? I know you do, baby, I can feel it.” One of his hands tangles up into your hair and pulls tentatively.

“Ethan.” You couldn’t say anything else, you couldn’t even think.

“Gonna knock you up, pretty girl. I’ll fuck you as much as it takes, till I get to see you all swollen with my child.” His voice starts getting shaky and high. He was watching the way your slick would string between you two everytime he pulled back. Suddenly his moans started to turn into whimpers and you could hear him suck air through his teeth. “Oh fuck…” Ethan throws his head back and pushes all the way into you, pressing his tip right against your cervix. Hot thick stripes of cum painted your walls. “There you go, good girl.” His head tilts back and he closes his eyes. He lets go of your hair and starts running his fingers along your back gently. All that could be heard was the heavy breaths that filled the air. He pulls out and you whine at the empty feeling. “You did so good.” He pulls you straight up against him and holds you. You can feel his cum start to drip and run down your thighs. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”

“Feel good.” Your voice was quiet and weak.

“Yeah? I'm glad, pretty girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He kisses your shoulder softly.

“Mmh, m’kay.” You close your eyes and lay your head against him.

“Let’s go.” He picks you up and starts carrying you to the bathroom to clean you off. “Think you’re gonna have to come around more often with a little one on the way.”

***

You were so glad you took this job.

[missmonsters2]

Hiya! Sharky here! okay, so, many things have happened in my week - first than anything, I realised my lack of social abilities is not as bad when I am chatting with someone through social media (clearly), and luckily, that also includes gym girl! but enough of calling her gym girl. Her name is Charlie! well, it's actually Charlotte, but that's her nickname!! I could tell you my name but I actually like the nickname sharky because I love sharks, besides I need to keep the mystery!

I took Charlie to an aquarium! We got food first (never have I felt so guilty for eating sushi lol) and then we had lunch there! Then I took her to get icecreams at a reaaallyy good place that my grandma used to take me to! she got chocolate with cookie dough and I chose mint with vanilla! It was already afternoon and of course we went to the beach since it was near to see the sunset! I walked her home and then went to my place JAKWEK now, I tried to reduce all what happened as much as possible bUT ADJAJDAW LETS DELVE INTO DETAIL

First, I adored it. Every second of it. I don't remember having such a good time in a long, long time. You were so, so right about going out and talking and getting to know eachother. Honestly, it made my day, my week, possibly my month and semester. I still struggle to talk a bit sometimes cause I get nervous but it's a good nervous! She said that it doesn't bother her though. We talked tons too. I mean, she did most of the talking, but not because I didn't talk. I simply loved to listen, you know? She's completely american, has a mom and two dads (they're gay and super close with the mom apparently so I'm so genuinely happy that they all get along. She said really good things about them too and honestly, it made me just.. I don't know. Kind of at peace to know that she has a good family?), she doesn't have a favorite food but she said her comfort food is pizza and pho and I was so happy because FINALLY someone who appreciates soup and broths. She loves horror movies and SHE ALSO LIKES SCREAM. I can proudly claim that I have discovered she is a Jenna Ortega fan. She has a dog nAMED COCO. I am completely bewildered by the fact that it made me fall even MORE. AJKOAEH COCOCOCOOCOCO IT'S SO CUTE. And she's 24! Also, she wants to be a lawyer? I don't know why but that's kinda... I'm so gay-

And when she asked things about me, I actually wanted to share! which wth because I don't usually open up to talk much about me, you know? And in the aquarium I RAMBLED. Rambled about sharks and fish and their freaking REPRODUcTIVE SYSTEMS AND THEN DINOSAURS AND WHAT THE HELL WAS I DOING PELASEQJWIEJQWE god let the ground swallow me I beg you. I never felt so embarrassed but at the same time so damn happy because I said "sorry" and she just looked at me with that damn beautiful smile and said "don't. I like it" and if I had a stroke right there please forgive me because I'm just a human and how am I supposed to survive that 😫

Man. She liked listening to me talking about shark stuff. Van. VAN IS THIS MY BELOVED.

She was literally SO SO SWEET. AND PATIENT. AND FUNNY. AND VAN. VAN SHE HAS. ADJJQWEJ her laugh is so fucking weird yet so tremendously beautiful I cAN'T because she sounds like she's getting strangled and it's so funny but at the same time such a pretty sound anD I CAN'T AJDWKE. Hello. I'm down bad and so quickly. SHE OFFERED ME A SPOON OF HER ICECREAM. I casually said that it was cool and weird too how americans have SO many icecream flavors refering to the cookie dough icecream and I almost had ANOTHER STROKE because sHE JUST. SHE JSUT FED ME SO I COULD TRY IT AIWJEKIJM QWE. I almost choke please what am I going to do with myself. She was also so.. Smooth? Van she's got so much game and I'm.. The kind of person who says a pick up line even if it's jokingly and ends up cringing and wanting to bury herself alive.

We agreed that we were looking forward to have another date and we agreed that one of these days we could have a marathon of scary movies! she just so happens to watch harley quinn and said we sHOULD ALSO WATCH THE SHOW TOGETHER HELLO. We're going to have another date next week, but this time she's going to plan it!! Van, I don't know if I can ever thank you enough for encouraging me to talk to her. Full honesty? I don't think I would have talked to her on my own

-🦈

omg HIIIIIIIII SHARKYYY. I was thinking about you and whether things were going well and it sounds like it did 😭💘 Charlie is such a cute nickame. Everything about her sounds cute omg

aquarium is such a good idea! Did you take lots of pics. I loveeee seeing jellyfish. Like i'm literally obsessed. I also love sushi, this sounds like such a great date so far LOL Man you also took her to ice cream and walking too, how long was this date?! LOL

I'm glad my date advice worked out bc I think it's always so awesome to get to know the person you're seeing and talking. I also just feel like it's helps you get over the jitters so you have to talk more and get used to it. She seems so sweet that she knew you were nervous and did a lot of the talking and didn't mind that you listened. Maybe she needs a listener in her life!! (literally also why is my comfort food pizza and pho...also instant noodles LOL) (not to be weird but i'm wondering if she's asian bc as an asian myself, I swear every asian girl I know that owns a dog named them coco LOL)

I bet she found the things you rambled on so interesting tho. Literally they're so niche and she for sure learned new things LOL

omg y'all shared ice cream??????? that's so gay i love it. That's basically indirect kissing LSKJFDLSDLSLKDJF damn she forreal is a smooth operator, you better watch out before you have a heart attack😂

But this is so cute and i'm so happy there's a good update! Exciting there's another date and she'll plan it. I am totally curious what she's planning to do 👀

I genuinely don't feel like I did much for you as it was really all you!!! You really just set out to do what you wanted deep down and it makes me so happy it worked out <3 be gay & thrive so that we may all live vicariously through you <3

[erodasfishtacos]

Crackin’ the Code

prompt: Harry and YN tie the knot in a beautiful castle off the coat of Italy. Harry reflects back on his life before his love. YN has past insecurities creep on on her before the wedding. 

note: this is the necklace that YN receives as (one) her wedding gifts from H and she wears it during the ceremony.

word count: 9k

warnings: smut

***<-- click for visuals throughout (super important for this one shot!)

if you enjoy this fic (which i worked REALLY hard on) please reblog, like, comment, and come talk to me!

please please considering donating to my kofi since all my work is FREE to you guys!

---

The world expected an extravagant wedding with week-long festivities, celebrations in destinations only the richest could afford, and all the big names of the business world who ran in his circle.

The media outlets were just waiting, quite impatiently, for the day that the richest man in Europe settled down with a significant other. They would have news stories for decades when it came to the couple.

Of course, Harry Styles was going to marry a household name - the public thought. 

Whether it be an heiress, a model, maybe even an actress? The choices for the most eligible bachelor were limitless.

Any time he was at an event, usually a charity gala or black-tie dinner, paparazzi would take candid pictures of him with any female and then the following day publish an article about how they were a couple.

However, what the world didn’t know was that he’s been in a relationship for a year and a half, has already been engaged after the eight month mark, and moved into pretty soon after but that was hushed.

Nearly no one except a few key employees and family members knew about the couple. Everyone in his office building in the heart of London had to sign NDA’s at the beginning of their job - though almost all of them didn’t know she existed.

Harry did not put any limits on YN for the wedding planning. 

No price, no expectations, nothing. If she wanted ten-thousand people or zero people in attendance that was her call. If she wanted to drop ten million dollars on a wedding or a hundred that was fine too.

The CEO never fantasized about a wedding. 

Well he had but no in the terms most do. He didn’t sit and imagine the venue, the food menu, or the decorations. 

No, he didn’t care about any of that, he daydreamed about the fact that he and someone would commit themselves to each other for the rest of their lives.

Harry wanted to marry his fiance after their first date.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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[mizunetzu]

Atsumu + Alcohol

If you make him drunk, I will hug you. Also, glad to see you’re back! :>

He’s drunk. Hug me. Now. But ehehe it makes me happy that you’re glad I’m back :,) NOW HERES DRUNK ATSUMU!

Also only @shiny-bun wanted to be tagged sobs reeeeeaaaal confidence booster I know :,)

——————

Atsumu x reader - Sweet, Sweet Lies Called Drunk Miya Atsumu

⚠️warnings - mentions of alcohol through the fic. reader records videos of atsumu drunk whenever he sees him. It isn’t in a sexual way at all; and reader doesn’t touch atsumu unconsentually at all. Just likes to watch him drunk bc he loves him still :,)

Also: FUCKING ANGST. you know it’s fuckign angsty when I got emotional writing it. Also, grammarly proof read it don’t trust it.

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

“I think we should break up.” 

(Y/n) blinked, before down casting his head. He said nothing for a while, before opening his mouth again bluntly.

“...ok.”

Atsumu furrowed his brows. He gripped the coffee mug resting on the cafe table just a bit harder. He certainly wasn’t expecting that answer. “...Ya aren’t gonna ask why? Yer just ok with it?”

“Well,” (Y/n) emotionlessly bit into a small biscuit. His expression was unreadable, blank like a piece of paper. “It’s not like I can change your mind, ‘Tsumu.”

“But...can I at least know why?”

The two went silent. Atsumu pursed his lips, trying to find the words to say while (Y/n) sat there expectantly. Eventually, Atsumu looked back up from his coffee mug.

“S’a lot of reasons, I think. ‘M busy with volleyball, ‘specially since it’s my job now,” Atsumu chuckled awkwardly. It was true, with the Black Jackals, he was being paid to do something he loved. “And...I...”

“I think I found a girl I really like.”

(Y/n) looked down at his lap numbly. He already knew it was coming, he wasn’t blind to the faint lipstick marks Atsumu tried to wipe away when he came home, or the smell of expensive perfume that stained him when he would come back from ‘practice’. He knew, he knew yet...

“Ah.”

Was all he could say.

——

Atsumu downed his third can of cheap beer, hissing loudly and slamming it down on the bar.

“I hate life! M’gonna fuckin’...! Run away and shit!”

Sakusa hummed. “Oh no. What happened now.”

Loud, irritating club music blared through the bar’s speakers. Atsumu slumped over the counter, making Sakusa and Bokuto lean back.

“Oi! ‘Tsum-Tsum! What’s wrong buddy?” Bokuto poked repeatedly at Atsumu’s head, making him groan and pathetically try and flick his hand away.

“M’...M’so sad...” Atsumu whimpered. Sakusa rolled his eyes while Bokuto frowned. Atsumu continued to mumble sadly into his arms until he slowly became more agitated, and whipped his drunken head up. 

“Shoyo’s got a nice boyfriend! That fuckin’...Kodzuken youtuber dude! Why can’t I! If I were Shoyo, I’d be laying on my boyfriend’s lap and bein’ all cute and shit —but here I am! Fuckin’ drinkin’ and bitchin’ and fuckin’...fuck! Fuckin’ Shoyo! Fuckin’ Kodzuken! Fuckin’—”

“But didn’t you just break up with that girl you were seeing for like, months now? Thought you were straight, man!” Bokuto said, playing with the little garnish on his drink. Atsumu deadpanned, swallowing thickly before letting his head thump down onto the table. 

“Thought I was. M’gayer than if unicorns shat me out.”

Sakusa sipped on his fancy, green drink. “Is this about (L/n)-san, again-“

“‘Course it’s about (Y/n)!”

Atsumu waved at the bartender to grab him another drink. The bartender looked him up and down, before shrugging and leaving off to grab another beer. Sakusa looked at Atsumu with a disappointed expression.

“You do realize that every time we drink, you get shit-faced drunk, complain about (L/n)-san, call (L/n)-san, then he picks you up and you wake up in his house because he’s too nice to refuse to pick you up. And you regret and bitch to me every single time.” Sakusa closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink. “Honestly I don’t know why I still come with you guys if I know it’s gonna end up like this.”

“Hey! ‘Tsum-Tsum has his problems and he’s just letting them out!” Bokuto defensively waved his arms around, gesturing to Atsumu on the table, laying down his head in his arms. Both Sakusa and Bokuto were pretty sure he was ugly sobbing. Or at least babbling nonsense that sounded like sobs.

“He can’t even sit up straight. And Miya-san was the one who broke up with (L/n)-san for another girl. He has no right to be complaining.”

“S-Still! ‘Tsumu’s the homie! Let him rant!” Bokuto chugged down his drink. 

Sakusa fished his phone out of his pocket. He scrolled down his list of contacts, before clicking on one that read ‘(L/n)-san. (Atsumu’s pick-me-up)’. The phone’s screen turned black, displaying (Y/n’s) profile pic with a ‘contacting...’ right under it in fine print. 

“Sure, Bokuto-san. Whatever you want.”

——

“Fuckin’...let go of me, Omi!” Atsumu slurred. He, however, made no attempt to push Sakusa off as he dragged him outside the bar. Bokuto had long gone, and Atsumu was a few drinks overdue for his trip home. 

Sakusa sighed, standing out in the cold with his mask pulled up to his face. Atsumu lolled his head onto Sakusa’s shoulder, either in an attempt to push him off or just pure drunkenness. “Don’t drool on me, Miya-san.” Sakusa cringed.

Atsumu was about to retort back, until both his and Sakusa’s attention was drawn to a home-y, black car that pulled up right in front of them. The driver’s door clicked open, and someone in a baggy sweater and sweatpants emerged from the car. 

“Please take him, (L/n)-san. I’m sorry for always calling you to-”

“It’s fine!” (Y/n) chuckled, opening the passenger’s side door for Sakusa to throw Atsumu’s body in. “‘Tsumu’s been drinking a lot, huh? Isn’t this the third time this month I had to pick him up?” 

Atsumu groaned when Sakusa clipped in his seatbelt. He sighed when Atsumu began tugging at it like a child, not knowing how to unbuckle it himself. “Actually, it’s the fourth time. But he has a reason today, I think.”

“He finally broke up with Yumena-san.”

Breath hitched in (Y/n’s) throat. He covered his shock up with a smile, however, and closed the car door with Atsumu in it. “Aw. Well, I better uh, drive him home, now. Bye-bye, Sakusa-kun.”

Sakusa nodded. (Y/n) stepped into his car tentatively. Ignoring the way Atsumu was still tugging at his seatbelt, he started up the car, and drove. 

“I’m...sure you won’t mind sleeping over at my place again...right, ‘Tsumu?” (Y/n) mumbled, more to himself than to the drunktard sprawled out onto his car seat. He silently unlocked his phone, tapping on the camera app and propping his phone up on his dash. He hit record, and withdrew his hand back to the steering wheel. Atsumu eyed it suspiciously, before shrugging it off sleepily.

“Naaaah…” Atsumu slurred. He threw his head haphazardly onto the armrests separating his seat from (Y/n’s), trying to get as close to his ex as possible. “Yer apartment smells good...I miss it...I miss you…”

Shifting so he was still laying on the armrest, Atsumu tucked his arm under his head like a pillow. “Yer so...pretty…love you so much...”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. Atsumu smiled dumbly, pointing a finger gun at (Y/n). “We should-you and I should like, totally get back together n’ shit…” Atsumu stopped, letting out a hiccup, before continuing. “I miss you...n’ I love you…”

Stopping at a red light, (Y/n) looked down at Atsumu, who was staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. (Y/n) averted his gaze, chuckling awkwardly. “...You don’t mean that. You’re just drunk.”

Atsumu shot up. “But I do! M’so sad without you!” Atsumu loosened his seatbelt enough so he could rest his face on (Y/n’s) forearm. “You were the best thing in my life, n’ I need you back! I love you so muuuuuuch!”

(Y/n) stayed quiet for a second, glancing at his camera pointed directly at Atsumu nuzzling his face into his arm. He slowed the car to a stop, taking out his keys and pressing the ‘Stop’ button on his phone. He slipped both of them into his pockets.

“We’re here. C’mon, get up.” (Y/n’s) voice was barely above a whisper. After sitting in his car for a while, he finally got up, and walked over to the other side to haul Atsumu’s corpse-of-a-body out of his seat. “Fuck...sometimes I wish my apartment wasn’t on the third floor-’Tsumu! You can walk if I support you, right? I’m not carrying you.”

Atsumu pressed all his weight against (Y/n). “What if I want my boyfriend to carry me like a princess n’ shit…”

“I’m-” (Y/n) swallowed. His voice was quiet and shaky again. “I’m not your boyfriend. You say stupid things when you’re drunk...”

Atsumu was about to protest, when (Y/n) looped his arm under his own arm. 

“Let’s go. You need rest.”

The walk to (Y/n’s) apartment was silent.

——

Atsumu pouted, eyeing down the way Kenma was showing a video on his phone to Hinata and smiling. Hinata grinned widely, his eyes glued to Kenma’s phone screen until an obnoxious sigh drew his eyes away. 

“Why’d ya even invite me here...M’just third wheelin’ on yer guys's little date time.” Atsumu frowned, dramatically slumping in his seat. Kenma hunched his shoulders down, suddenly becoming very aware of the way Atsumu not-so-subtly stared him down. He brought his coffee cup to his lips, trying to hide behind the cup itself. 

Hinata defensively wrapped his arms around Kenma. “Oiiiii! We invited you over because you always get super-duper depressed after waking up hungover at (L/n’s)!”

“I’m more depressed now that yer all cuddly-wuddly with yer frickin’ boyfriend while m’sitting here with my single ass!”

“Miya wakes up hungover at (Y/n’s)?” Kenma quietly asked Hinata. He nodded. Atsumu started flailing his arms around, trying to get Hinata to stop talking, but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“Every time he goes drinking, he ends up crying about how much he still loves (L/n)—and ends up either calling him or someone else calls him to go pick him up. Either way, he wakes up super embarrassed and awkward in (L/n’s) bed and sulks the rest of the time at practice.” 

Atsumu sat there, feeling like he’d been shoved to the front of a volleyball court completely naked. Kenma blinked, before looking down again.

“Oh.”

“That’s all yer gonna say-!?”

“I guess it kind of makes sense, now.”

Atsumu stopped mid-sentence, looking at Kenma with a confused expression. Kenma tried to dodge Atsumu’s eyes again, this time tugging on Hinata’s sleeve.

“...What makes sense now?”

Kenma had the look of ‘I said too much.’, trying to change the topic or hoping Hinata would swoop in and change it for him. But alas, no such thing happened. “I don’t think (Y/n) would…”

Hinata suddenly tugged back at Kenma’s sweatshirt, gesturing to turn around with him for a private conversation. They both turned their heads, mumbling out little ‘video-!’, ‘(Y/n)-!’ and ‘Atsumu-!’s here and there. Atsumu glanced from Hinata, to Kenma, before pouting that he’d been left out of the conversation.

Eventually, both Kenma and Hinata turned around again, looking directly at Atsumu. He stared back at them with doe-like confused eyes, when Kenma fished out his phone. 

“If we show you, you promise to act like you never knew at all?” Hinata childishly extended his pinky finger out to Atsumu, to which he nodded vigorously and hooked his own pinky with his. Kenma piped up.

“The reason I said it made sense was because I found a folder in (Y/n’s) phone titled, and I quote: ‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad)’. They’re filled with video’s of you, drunk, blabbing about how much you love him.”

Atsumu stared at Kenma.

“Yer fuckin’ lyin’.”

“I’m...really not.” Kenma turned his phone screen around, displaying a video filmed in what seemed to be (Y/n’s) car. Atsumu leaned down and peered at the video, seeing his head frozen in place in the corner of the screen. Kenma felt around for the play button, tapping until it started playing. 

Atsumu watched the video in horror, his face going milk white as he watched himself cry and sob about how much he wanted to get back with (Y/n). Right in front of him. The video ended, and Atsumu looked up with the hope of getting hit with a bus. 

“How...did you get-”

“I airdropped this one to myself when (Y/n) was in the bathroom one day because I found this one funny.” Kenma mumbled, turning his phone around and inspecting the screen. “There’s millions of them on his phone, this one isn’t even the worst. Some of them are in his apartment when he’s trying to get you into bed, and I think there’s one where you beg him to cuddle with yo-”

“Stop! Stop! No more!” Atsumu covered his face, embarrassed. Kenma let his mouth fall shut, while Hinata snickered into his drink. Atsumu let his head smack onto the table. “What did I do to deserve this…”

“Hey!” Hinata quipped, his positive voice making Atsumu’s brain hurt. “You know what that means, right?”

“That (Y/n) probably wants blackmail or revenge on me for breaking up with him?” Atsumu grumbled into his hands.

“Wh-no, what,” Kenma said. “He means-”

“(L/n) still loves you! I mean-he saves videos of you saying you love him to watch when he is sad or lonely or whatever, that means he loves you still! It was even in the title!”

Atsumu glared at Hinata like he was squinting at the sun. Kenma shrugged. 

“S’true. He told me himself he watches them when he goes to sleep n’stuff.”

“Yer lyin’.”

“Was he lying when he showed you the video?” Hinata raised his eyebrow. 

Atsumu opened his mouth, before letting it clamp shut and shaking his head ‘no’.

——

Clinging to his side like a kicked puppy, (Y/n) found himself nursing a drunk, sobbing Atsumu at his apartment once more. 

“Tsum-” (Y/n) struggled to stick his key in his door’s keyhole with the way Atsumu was quite literally hanging off him. It was like he was trying to pull (Y/n) to the ground with him. “Atsumu! I’m trying to-”

“Don’t leaaaaave meeee! I love you!” Atsumu sobbed. He wiped his messy face onto (Y/n’s) jacket. 

Finally sticking the key inside and turning it, (Y/n) pushed open the door and patted at Atsumu’s ruffled hair. “I’m not leaving, ‘Tsumu. Just taking you to bed, is all. We’re still...friends...I think.”

“Don’t wanna be your friend.” Atsumu sniffled, as he staggered into (Y/n’s) room with the support of his body. He was thrown on the bed with a loud groan, as (Y/n) went to grab his phone. “We were meant to be together...boyfriends...soulmates…!”

“I wish you meant that,” (Y/n) chuckled, setting up his phone, pointing it at his bed and pressing record. “Gave it up after the fifth time you came here sloppy drunk, though. It really is just you talking out of your ass.”

The hint of bitterness in (Y/n’s) voice increased unsteadily, wavering like a candlelight. “I-I mean, you say all these nice things-then the next morning you either deny everything you said, or leave before I can even say goodbye! Or you don’t even remember most of the time!”

(Y/n’s) disgruntled laugh made Atsumu blink. He eventually simmered down, looking down at the floor and busying himself with searching through his desk. 

“That’s okay though. I have these little videos of your lies to keep me company. I can live with that just fine.” (Y/n) turned to Atsumu, holding up painkillers and setting them atop the desk. “...Sorry for problem-dumping on you, ‘Tsumu. I know you want sleep.”

“Don’t take these yet. They’re for tomorrow.” (Y/n) rattled the painkillers in their box, before producing a water bottle and extending it to Atsumu. He looked at the bottle like it was some foreign object. The water sloshed around when (Y/n) swirled it around Atsumu’s face. “It’s for your hangover tomorrow. Drink up, ‘Tsum-Tsum.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.”

(Y/n) pursed his lips. “No.”

“Then m’not drinkin’ the fuggin’ water!”

“Atsum-!” (Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He set down the bottle of water on his nightstand, and rested his hands on his hips. “...If I give you a tiny hug, will you drink all the water and go to sleep?”

Atsumu nodded vigorously.

(Y/n) expected him to stand up and give him a hug, but instead, he opened his arms and sat expectantly, waiting for something to crawl between them. He was so far back on the bed, (Y/n) would probably have to lay awkwardly in his chest until he was satisfied.

So that's what (Y/n) did, after what felt like hours of contemplating and clenched jaws. He bit his lip, climbing slowly towards Atsumu on the bed. Atsumu smiled dumbly, and scooped him up in his arms like a claw machine. 

What Atsumu didn’t expect, was (Y/n) to stiffen up, surprised, before melting into his arms pathetically. He clumsily wrapped his arms around Atsumu’s torso, his body curling into the shape of his own like dough. He let his head slump in the crook of Atsumu’s neck, taking in a shaky, deep breath and sighing heavier than he meant to. 

(Y/n) figured he must’ve forgotten how much he relished being wrapped up in Atsumu’s arms, because he found himself not wanting to let go of Atsumu’s shirt that reeked of alcohol.

Still, after what was probably only a few candid seconds, (Y/n) pushed himself away from Atsumu, who slumped back on the bed confused, and wobbled his way back onto his feet. 

“There…” (Y/n) breathed. He had the most unreadable expression, and his voice was quiet and raspy. “Now-now drink th-the water...you promised.” 

Atsumu shrugged, swiping the water from the nightstand, and chugging it sloppily. (Y/n) went to work removing Atsumu’s socks, pants, and other things uncomfy to sleep in, until he was left in his boxers and t-shirt. Atsumu stared at (Y/n) sleepily, as he grabbed a spare pillow and blanket, and threw them on the swivel chair near his desk.

“...Y-Yer not gonna sleep here with me?”

(Y/n) furrowed his eyebrows, reaching over to stop his phone from recording, and curled up on the chair with his pillow. His voice was meek under the thin blanket he wrapped himself in. “You always ask, and i’ll always say no. Honestly I don’t know why you keep asking.”

“You look cold.”

“I’m...really not.”

“S’comfier on the bed.”

“...I like this chair.”

“I can scoot over-”

“Miya, if I give in and cuddle with you, everythings gonna be sunshine and rainbows ‘til the next morning—where you wake up next to me and regret everything! I’m-i’m trying to save your dignity here so stop asking!” (Y/n) croaked. He clutched his blanket tighter. “You’re drunk! You aren’t thinking! I already gave your-your stupid hug so stop it! How do you think I feel!?”

Atsumu rubbed at his head. (Y/n’s) hot face immediately flushed out, his voice quieting down back into his normal voice. 

“Ah...I’m...sorry. You’re...tired and I probably shocked you with my-by being loud n’stuff.” (Y/n) bowed his head slightly, before shifting away from Atsumu in his little swivel chair. “Sorry. Go to sleep now. Night, ‘Tsumu.”

When he heard shifting on the bed, (Y/n) grabbed his earphones and turned out the light. Plugging in his earphones hurriedly, he switched on his phone, clicking on the photos app and on today's video of Atsumu to cheer him up. He even caught the hug on camera, so he was looking forward to that. 

Dimming his phone's brightness to not disturb Atsumu, (Y/n) scrolled through the video, everything moving in fast-motion until (Y/n) saw himself climb into Atsumu’s arms. He paused the video there, smiling numbly, and taking a screenshot. 

Before he could add the video to the rest of his collection of drunk-sumu videos, he was suddenly hauled up and hanging upside down. He was tossed over Atsumu’s shoulder, not even having time to protest before he was thrown carefully onto his own bed. 

“Hey-Tsu-” Atsumu said nothing, climbing into the bed gracefully after (Y/n) and pulling the covers over the both of them. “Listen to me-! Let me go-!”

“If yer gonna keep sayin’ shit like...like i’ll regret it in the mornin’...fuckin’... let me,” Atsumu slurred. (Y/n) opened his mouth to speak, but Atsumu beat him to it. “S’my fault…’n...m’gonna deal with it in the mornin’. S-so lemme hold you.”

(Y/n) knitted together his eyebrows, looking conflicted on what he should do. He’d been so, so good at restraining himself from stealing hugs and kisses from Atsumu when he was drunk, and his reward was the videos. If he messed it up now, would Atsumu be too embarrassed to let himself get picked up by (Y/n) when he was drunk? Was he really willing to potentially give up future lovey-dovey drunk videos, and seeing Atsumu tell him he loved him for one night in his arms again?

He was. 

(Y/n) relaxed, a numb expression on his face. He was just about done. One last time of drunk Atsumu holding him for a whole night, then it was time to move on. Hell, maybe after tonight, and after explaining to a very-embarassed hungover Atsumu in the morning that “No, we did not have sex,” maybe, just maybe, he would finally delete the videos. The video’s of his ex who didn’t love him anymore, feeding him drunk lies of ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you’, and finally moving on with his life. 

(Y/n) ran his fingers through his hair, and let out a tuckered-out sigh. Maybe after he stopped clinging to the past, he could be normal friends with Atsumu Miya again. 

(Y/n) looked at Atsumu with dry eyes. He let himself succumb to Atsumu’s warm chest, breathing in his scent for what could possibly be the last time. Atsumu purred happily, adjusting so he could wrap both arms around (Y/n), using one as a pillow for him and another to wrap around his body. (Y/n) hummed dryly.

Atsumu giggled. “...Love you...so much.”

(Y/n), for once out of all the time’s he’d always respond with ‘No, you don’t.’ or ‘You’re just drunk.’, said:

“I love you too.” 

“...hehe...he…” Atsumu kissed the crown of (Y/n’s) forehead, before nuzzling it with his nose. “I love you sososo much.”

(Y/n) was quick to respond, even though his throat began closing up and making it hard to speak. You could probably tell he was on the verge of tears. “Me too, ‘Tsumu. I love you most.”

“I love you so much…” Atsumu began, this time his voice way more clearer and sober than what he’d been speaking with this whole night. 

“...That i’d pretend m’drunk just to see you again.”

“...”

(Y/n) blinked, not quite processing his words. He shrunk inside Atsumu’s cage-like arms, before timidly meeting Atsumu’s eyes. They seemed much clearer, less hazy from ‘alcohol’, and they stared back at him with it’s usual ‘Atsumu’ look.

“...huh…?”

Atsumu patted (Y/n’s) head. “Yer so cute. I love you so much.”

“Wh-wait-” (Y/n) tried to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s arms. “You-you’re not-”

“Nope. All I did at the bar tonight was watch Bokkun and Shoyo-kun drink so i’d smell like alcohol. Then I told—well, paid Omi-Omi to call you sayin’ I was drunk again, so I could see what stupid shit I did at your place when I was drunk.”

“Though,” Atsumu nodded at the discarded phone on the ground, next to (Y/n’s) makeshift swivel chair-bed. “I could've just asked to see that video of me. Or the rest of them, ‘coordin’ to Kozume-kun.”

(Y/n) sputtered, trying to find the words to speak, but finding himself too embarrassed to. He’d, finally, been caught red-handed. 

He sighed, casting his head down, before crawling out of his bed and taking the walk of shame to his phone. “...You caught me,’Tsu...Atsumu. Caught me real good, Atsumu.”

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone, searching for the album full of his drunk video’s of Atsumu. He clicked on it, then waved his phone around guiltily. He turned the phone around, peering down at it sheepishly. “Don’t worry, I’ll delete all of these...and I...I can drive you home if you want.”

“Nah. M’pretty comfy here.” Atsumu laid back down. “I’d be comfier if you were in my arms again, though.”

Atsumu made grabby arms towards (Y/n). (Y/n) blinked, searching Atsumu for any sort of satire. He found none, and nervously inched toward Atsumu until he was pulled back into his chest. The phone was, once again, forgotten on the floor. 

“Wheeeeeey, there we go~” Atsumu nestled down onto the bed, crooning (Y/n) in his arms and stroking his head. “Ain’t that comfy.”

He pressed a small kiss to (Y/n’s) forehead. “Love you. Goodnight~”

“...Wait, n-no you-”

Atsumu pressed another kiss onto (Y/n’s) face, promptly shutting him up. He tried speaking again, just to have another kiss placed onto his face. This cycle went on, (Y/n) trying to voice out his protests just to be hushed with kisses all over his face, until he reduced into a pile of hot tears, melting his face off raw. 

Atsumu kissed (Y/n’s) tears away. When more kept coming, Atsumu pulled back, stroking (Y/n’s) hair as gently as he could. Gentle was not a word to describe Miya Atsumu, but he sure as hell would try. 

“Stop cryin’...” Atsumu whispered, kissing another falling tear away. “I came here to win ya back, not make you cry…”

“I-I’m sorry-” (Y/n) sobbed out between hics. “I just- I missed you so-”

“I did too.” 

They sat there, small hics coming from (Y/n) as Atsumu quietly stroked his hair, and in all honesty, they would have laid there forever. But (Y/n) finally wriggled his way out Atsumu’s grasp, timpering his way to his phone. 

He picked it up, fiddling with it, before turning his phone screen around. Atsumu leaned closer. 

‘Sweet, Sweet, Lies called Drunk Miya Atsumu (watch when sad) - 0 videos’

“Deleted them all.” (Y/n) murmured. “Figured I wouldn’t need them anymore now that I got you here…”

Atsumu blinked before erupting into a wide smile. He sprang off the bed and attacked (Y/n) with a big, bear hug. “You bet yer ass you won’t!” 

He peppered kisses around (Y/n’s) face, and instead of crying, (Y/n) began to smile.

“Stop it-that tickles! ‘Tsumu-!” The red tear stains on (Y/n’s) face were barely noticeable under the flurry of kisses he was under. Atsumu grinned stupidly into (Y/n’s) skin.

“Ya know full well you don’t want me to.”

And he didn’t.

Atsumu pressed one final kiss to (Y/n’s) face, this time, and for the first time in a long time: on his lips.

——————

I’m really proud of this 👉👈 I’d like it if I could get a lil,,,reblog,,,with thoughts,,,or comments,,,aha ha ha,,,

Lil thing I found funny

[smallraindrops-blog]

Wake Me From This Dreaming

(Part eight)

Hypnos x male!reader, Achilles X Patroclus, background Zagreus/Thanatos/Meg, brief reader x oc

Word count: 5.8

Warnings: non- graphic sex, kissing, family issues, war, death, trauma, cursing, mild and super brief part of reader crushing on an OC, no beta.

Notes:

Hello everyone! Thank you for your patience and support while I got this out. I hope you enjoy it! If anyone wants to make a request or have more shorts for this Au, just let me know.

Quick note, I know there are people who want some Pyrrhus and while he is not in this part, keep an eye out for him later.

The Masterlist

You were thirteen years old and you were bored out of your mind. You shifted in your seat as the old man in front of the crowd harped on about some cave and shadows. It was a cave, of course it was going to be dark.

You leaned over to Patroclus and whispered, “Pa, come on. I don’t think this guy knows his right from his left.”

Patroclus shushed you, his dark eyes focused on the talking man. You rolled your eyes and went back to staring forward blankly.

You hated philosophy lectures, it was always old men with too much on time their hands doing all the talking.  At least Chiron always kept it simple and you usually understood the point he was making.

You knew you would be stuck for at least another hour. So you let your mind wonder. You thought about the new training with your Father, how Achilles seems pleased with your performance lately. And tonight’s dinner, you hoped there will be meat or hen eggs or about the baker’s son, the slender one with the wide, friendly smile who often sneaked you extra bread or a sweet. How you caught him staring at you sometimes- you shook your head, shoving it out of your mind.

You squirmed, wishing that you could be anywhere right now.

Later, with a dinner of fish along with greens and bread, Achilles asked you how the lecture went. You liked these nights, the quiet ones at home with the sun just dipping under the horizon.

You paused, mouth stuffed full of food. You gave him a shrug.

"Chew with your mouth closed." Patroclus warned, pointing a knife at you.  You rolled your eyes, you haven't done that in years.

You swallowed, looked down at your plate then back at your parents. Achilles was curious; Patroclus with expectation.

“I think he was trying to explain…” You paused. You didn’t remember a damn thing that man was talking about. You remember the heat, the afternoon light, his monotonous voice and…

“He really liked caves?” You finished.

Both of your parents were silent, staring at you. You slowly stuffed another bite of fish in your mouth, never looking away from their stares.

“That's it?” Patroclus said quietly.

You met his dark eyes, “It’s not my fault that the old man was so boring. It’s a cave, it's going to be dark.”

Patroclus made a strangled noise in his throat.

Achilles snorted, and gave a hardy laugh as he slapped his hand over his eyes.

Patroclus sighed, covering his face with his hands. “Oh lad.”

Which only made Achilles laughed harder.

~

Once in the early days of the house, when you were still a new guard you realized something about Hypnos.

He was unusually fascinated by mortals.

During Zagreus’ warm up, you noticed Hypnos was distracted. A codex that Hypnos seems unable to look away from piqued your curiosity. Especially since Hypnos was usually busy chatting about something or giving Zagreus a hard time.  Today however, Hypnos was quiet as his eyes darted across the paper.

You tilted your head, trying to see the title “What are you reading?”

Hypnos looked up, blinking as if he forgot you were there. His mouth was parted slightly and you realized almost too late you were staring.

“Huh?” He said smartly. You nodded toward the codex, and he glanced between you and the codex before he understood what you were asking.

“Oh this?” Hypnos’ whole face lit up and you almost returned the smile. “This is one of Plato’s writings, copied by one of his students I believe.”

You frowned, fingers tapping on your spear. Something about that name sounded familiar.  A voice, loud and mind numbing and the hot sun beaming down, and you remembered the faint smell of ink and paper and pomegranate oil and Patroclus’s dark eyes stared forward-

Hypnos continued, “He was famous for his cave allegory. He had this idea that that if someone escaped the dark cave with shadows made by puppets-“

“They see the real world and become enlightened.” You finished. You shrugged at his surprise look.

“Pa liked taking me to philosophy lectures.” You told him. Hypnos closed the codex, his golden eyes locked on you.

“You didn’t strike me as a guy who likes philosophy.” Hypnos said.

“You would be correct, mostly. I thought Pluto was boring.” You replied.

Hypnos gasped as he waved his hands in shock. You chuckled slightly, not expecting such a response.

“You got to hear a lecture from one of the greatest philosophers ever to live and you were bored?” Hypnos said aghast. He stared at you as if he had never seen a mortal before, “Do you know how rare humans like him are?

“He had a very monotonous voice.” You said with an amused tone. You weren’t going to tell him that you were a teenager with other things on your mind.

You paused at the eye roll Hypnos gave you. “And took way too long with his analogies. The man just needed to learn to say what he needed to say.”

“Oh he did now?” Hypnos muttered, crossing his arms and you bit your cheeks. It was nice for one to be the one to ruffle some feathers for once, especially if those feathers were Hypnos'.

You smirked at him, “It's not my fault he doesn’t know how to entertain a crowd.”

Hypnos scoffed at you and he returned to his codex.

You felt a bit disappointed that Hypnos was no longer paying attention to you and on an impulse, you asked, “Why do you care about what a mortal has to say?”

Hypnos looked back at you, his golden eyes wide. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged, “It seems like gods would already know this stuff.”

Hypnos glanced at Zagreus and Skully, the latter counting the number of push ups. Slowly he looked back to you, “We don’t. Or rather we know but our understanding is different.”

You waited, this odd creature, this little god was already so different from anything else you know; you can grant him your patience.

Hypnos tapped a finger on the codex, “I can’t speak for other gods and I wouldn’t try to. But mortals seem… hungry in a way we aren’t.”

Hypnos saw the curiosity in your face, so he continued. “Mortals are so eager to seek and understand the truth, even if it costs them dearly. When you’re a god, you still have to learn but not like mortals do. There is not really a time limit for us, you know?”

Hypnos sighed, “I think I just like seeing how you mortals learn about stuff.”

You nodded as you and Hypnos watched Zagreus finish up his warm up.

“I liked a lot of what Protagoras had to say.”  You said as you glanced at Hypnos.  The little god looked at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Have you read his works?” You waved Zagreus to the center as Hypnos shook his head. “If you get a chance to read his works, do it. He had a lot to say about the objective truth and individual relativity -I think that's what Pa called it- and you would probably like it.”

Hypnos smiled warmly, “I think I will. Thank you.”

You just nodded, glad that you could walk away before a blush started to form.

You weren’t a child anymore and it would take more than a pretty boy to make you blush.

~

"A feast?" You shifted on your feet as Zagreus nodded. Zagreus handed a detailed list with a sheepish grin.

Of course, there was a to-do list.

"It's my mom's idea." Zagreus repiled, "And my father wants to tighten security."

You thought about saying that Hades had already tightened security to a tunt knot but only nodded.

"Of course." You said, "I will get the rest of the security and we will make a plan. When is the feast?"

"In three days." Zagreus bit his lip, "And… I just want to give you a heads up, Ares will be there."

"Great." You muttered as you looked back at him, "But the feast will be in the house correct?"

"Yeah, so nothing should happen. I've been talking to him also, so I'll make sure he is on his best behavior."

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “He doesn’t have a track record of listening before, your highness.”

“I know but Ares has been told the rules and my father won't let anyone attack an employee of the house while here.”

You nodded even if you were still doubtful. "Thank you, your highness."

Taking the hint, Zagreus took off quickly with his arm still full of papers.

You sighed, going back to the list. At least most of it was simple and stuff you already did on a daily basis.

You looked up from the list when you heard Hypnos' arrival, it was always a soft sound. A fading note, like the last hum of a lullaby.

"Oh it looks like Zagreus got to you first." Hypnos leaned over your shoulder, reading the list. His curls brushed against your cheek, and you felt the tension leave your body just a bit.

"Hello to you, too." You told him. He looked up at you, almost nose to nose.

"They have you working for the whole feast." He said with a frown.

"Yes, the gods will be busy. If someone wants to try to steal something, now would be the time." You said gently.

Hypnos pouted, "I was hoping…" he trailed off.

"I'm sorry." You said. "I should be free afterwards."

You pulled the list up, blocking your and Hypnos' face. You stole a quick kiss from him, his lips soft and enger.  You pulled away but Hypnos quickly stole a kiss for himself with a small smile.

Fates help you, but he was lovely.

"Want me to take you to the lounge today? To make up for working during the feast." You whispered.

He nodded, perking up. "Yes, I have to go back to work. Meet me there when you get done?"

You muttered an agreement and with one last quick kiss, Hypnos vanished.

At least, you have something to look forward to.

~

You kept running even as sweat beaded on your forehead. The bags of animal feed were heavy on your shoulders and the afternoon sun was no help.

Achilles kept his pace with you easily, his blue eyes darting over to you.  He looked strong and golden in the sunlight, like heroes in the stories Patroclus told you. You just felt like a mess.

"Straighten out your back lad." Achilles ordered.

You took a gulp of air and did as he said, keeping your balance.

"This is the last lap, then we will do a cool down." Achilles said, his breathing easy.

When you were done, you dropped the bags on the ground and you followed, back on the ground.

You stared at the blue skies as you fought for air. Lazy and fat clouds rolled by, they looked so far away among the trees.

Achilles nudged you gently with his foot, making you look at him. He held out a sheepskin and you sat up and drank it.

He joined you on the ground with a huff. You and him traded the water until empty.

You flopped back down, the dust sticking to your sweaty flesh.

"You're getting better. Your speed has definitely improved." Achilles said. You rolled your head upward to him, "Thank you, Father."

He sighed and his shoulders slumped. "There is something we need to talk about."

You sat up slowly, "Alright." You haven’t seen your father like this before. You studied his face, noting the dark circles under his eyes. That was unusual on its own, and his mouth was tight.

Achilles kept his eyes forward, and you followed his stare but all you saw was the house in the distance. You wondered if Patroclus could see you and Achilles. Faintly, you could hear the ocean from behind, tainting the air with the smell of salt and seaweed.

"You will always be my son, do you understand that?" Achilles said. You blinked, looked back at him.

“I have…” he paused, rubbing his forehead. “I can’t give you the inheritance you deserve. Everything I have should have been going to you.”

You stayed quiet, not understanding where this is going.  He didn’t look at you nor acknowledge your silence.

“I’ve made some mistakes before we had you. We won’t leave you without anything, I will make sure you will be taken care of.”  Achilles said. “I’m just sorry, I can’t give you more.”

“Father-“ You tried to speak but Achilles held up his hand.

“I know this is a lot to take in.” He said. You nodded, looking down at your dirty feet.

Achilles threw an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug.

“Be a good lad, alright?”  It was a quiet request. You still didn’t understand but you trusted him, even if you still felt unsure at times.

“Yes, Father.” You returned the hug and Achilles relaxed for the first time all afternoon, a warm smile on his tired face.

~

The house had descended into chaos.

Dozens of shades were rushing around, some with paperwork flying out their arms and some with flowers and banners.

The cooks were working around the clock and there was a faint smell of meat cooking no matter the time.

Dusa, ever the hard worker, was covered in dust as she helped shades with their chore. Gentle in her orders and quick to help any shades that came to her.

Even Lord Hades and Zagreus looked frazzled, especially next to Queen Persphone's serene smile.

You winced when an unfortunate shade somehow ran smack into a closed door. With a sigh, you walked over and held the door open for it.

The feast was only one day away and there was still too much stuff left to do. You went back to rechecking the house, trying to make sure there was nothing you missed.

You had three shades appointed to Zagreus and his parents' bedchambers, one by the entrance of the house and several others out though the house.

You haven't even had a chance to write your weekly letter, or even spent time with Hypnos after a rather short meal at the lounge.

And you very much felt every moment of it.

You finished the walk through, checked in with the other shades and looked over the list again.

You couldn't wait for this to be over with.

You returned to the east wing, barely ducking out of the way for Dusa who was holding three feather dusters and a rag.

"I'm sorry! Excuse me!" She called out, her voice fading away as she hurried down the hall.

You shook your head with a chuckle. When you got closer to your usual spot, you saw Hypnos floating there. He jolted awake before you said anything.

"Oh finally. I thought you would never be done." He said as he rubbed one of his eyes. "You're coming with me." He told you, grabbed your wrist.

Your eyebrows went up, not used to this abrupt, bossy Hypnos.

"Where-" you tried to speak but Hypnos vanished,taking you along with him.

You blinked and realized you were in the middle of Hypnos' bedchambers when you saw the dark canopy of his bed and the overflowing bookcases.  You shook off the dizzy wave, finding your footing.

Hypnos wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you down and kissed you hard. You gasped but returned the firm kiss. After a moment, Hypnos pulled back, his golden eyes bright. "I miss you. I don't have much time. Now kiss me."

You nodded, "Got it." You knew something else was up but an order was an order. And dammit, you missed him too. So you pushed your hands into his curls to pull him back into another kiss.

And Hypnos melted into you, and you couldn't stop yourself from touching his jawline, his chest and his back as you moved him toward the bed.

Normally between you and Hypnos, it was always full of heat but it was a slow burning one. You always took time to coax those little sounds from him, making sure he felt nothing but hazy pleasure.

This however was different. It was faster, more messy and you just tried to keep up. Hypnos was in control, giving you breathless orders for more kisses, to move harder and faster and you gave him everything and Hypnos was gorgeous as he fell apart under your hands.

A little bit later, Hypnos was fixing his curls in the mirror, fully dressed again with his sleep mask around his neck. His lips bruised from the rough kissing and you had to stop yourself from reaching over and pressing more kisses on those full lips.

You wished that you didn't have to return. You knew something happened to make Hypnos act out and you wanted to keep him here, safe and where nothing could touch him.

But you couldn't, Hypnos wouldn't allow it and you weren't some dragon. So you did the only thing you think of.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You spoke up as you finished getting dressed. Hypnos froze, his hands still in his hair.  "About what?"

You moved from your spot on the bed and walked over to him. You stood close to him, placing a hand under his chin and tilted his face up. His golden eyes darted away from yours as he crossed his arms and you sighed.

"Hypnos, you know this isn't normal for you." You told him.

He glared down at the floor, closed off and hard. "It seems like you were enjoying yourself." He said harshly. You traced his bottom lip with your thumb.

"I did. You should definitely give orders more often." You told him. "But what I don't enjoy is that you're hurting and not telling me why."

Hypnos bit his thumbnail but said nothing. So you push ahead hoping that you were saying the right things.

"I would do anything just to get you to smile at me, do you know that?" You said quietly. "If you don't want to talk, then don't but at least let me help you, my love."

Hypnos's shoulders had slumped but he looked back at you, his eyes golden. And he looked more like himself, softer and lovelier than anything else you ever knew.

"You called me love." Hypnos whispered, as if he wasn't sure he heard it right.

You swallowed, just realizing what you said. But you weren't a man who took back his words, especially when it brought Hypnos back to you.

"I did." You said simply even as your chest tightened.

"Do you mean it? The words, every single one?" He placed his hand on yours, his fingers careful.

"Yes, I do." You said and like a dam breaking, Hypnos leaned into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. He buried his face in your chest and you just held him.

Until finally, Hypnos began talking, his words muffed. "My mom knows about us."

"Oh." You said, a knot in your gut. "She doesn’t approve?"

"She is unimpressed. Just like always." Hypnos laughed sarcastically. You sighed, you had hoped that maybe his mother would be more supportive.

"And she was going over the rules for the feast tomorrow like I am a child. And told me not to disgrace myself in front of the other gods but it wasn't even about you like I thought. It's just because she doesn't like how I am and-" Hypnos stopped, taking a shaky breath.

You just tighten your arms around him, anger burning white hot in your chest. "I'm sorry, love."

If she wasn't Hypnos' mother...

"Call me that again." He ordered gently, looking up at you with damp lashes. And just like that, the anger almost died out.

"Love." You repeated, leaning down to kiss him.

You couldn't do a lot of things you would like to do but you could give him this.

~

If you had thought the day before was busy, it had nothing on the actual day.

Lord Hades glared down at you, as you went over what steps you had taken and the plan for the feast for the fourth time.

Dusa was still zipping about and you sidestepped, still explaining to Lord Hades, as she began mopping the floor. Cerberus gave a small whine, moving his paws closer to himself.

"If anything happens, I will toss you in the deepest pit of Tartarus myself, understood?" Lord Hades warned, pointing a finger in your face.

It was only because your parents, mainly Patroclus, had drilled manners and some common sense into you that you didn't try to bite his finger off.

"Of course, Lord Hades." You bowed as he walked off, almost stepping on poor Dusa. Instinctively you looked for Hypnos at his usual spot, but it was empty.

He must be getting ready with his family, and you hoped it was going well. However, that didn't stop the bitter disappointment of not seeing him.

You really can't wait for this to be over with.

It didn't take much longer, you already had the other guards set up in their place, with two making around rounds out though the house.

Truthfully you were glad for the busy work. It gave you something to do while Hypnos was busy with his family. You couldn’t stop thinking about Hypnos, how his smile didn't reach his eyes all day yesterday.

Faintly you heard the arrival of the Olympians gods and goddesses.

You were especially glad that you would be unlikely to run into Ares.

"Sir Y/N?" A shade called out to you, one of the house servants. You raised an eyebrow, "Yes? Is everything alright?"

"Yes sir, there are guests requesting your presence in The East wing."

Your brow furrowed, "Thank you, you may go now."

If it was Ares, you weren't going to be responsible for your own actions.

"Lad!" Achilles called out when he spotted you, Patroclus quiet by side like always. You stared at them in confusion as they got close enough to pull in for a hug.

You returned the hug, and even in the east wing you could hear the party.

"Prince Zagreus had invited us,but we wanted to surprise you." Achilles told you as Patroclus hugged you.

"Consider me surprised." You said with a grin. "Unfortunately, I am working until the end of the party."

"Yes, I wasn't quite able to get my Father to loose up even with a party." Zagreus said as he joined you, his face flushed from the ambrosia.

He was dressed up, his hair was neater and he looked odd without his normal wear. The fabric was finer than you've ever seen before and his jewelry was rich with colorful gems. You wondered if that meant Hypnos was dressed up as well.

He hugged Achilles and nodded toward Patroclus. "But I got a shade to take over for a few minutes so you can have alone time."

You and your parents thanked him as he returned to the party. You wished you had a better view, just in the off chance you would see Hypnos.

"I'm sorry we won't get more time together." You told them, your hand on Patroclus’ shoulder.

"Nonsense. We're just happy to see you." Patroclus repiled, his smile making the lines around his eyes deepen. "I trust you are being treated well otherwise."

You were only able to chat for a few minutes before some of the other guards required your presence.

"Go on, I will see you soon as the party is over." You groaned as Achilles gave you a bone crushing hug and a firm pat on the back. Patroclus hugged you again as well, much gently.

Just a few more hours you told yourself, then you could see Hypnos and your parents again.

~

You had found the scroll among one of Hypnos’ many pillows. This was the third time you had visited his bed and was still getting used to the sheer size of his bed and his countless pillows and blankets.

Hypnos had fallen asleep on his side, spooning against your chest.  You rested a hand against his stomach, quietly enjoying how soft his skin was.

His slow, deep breathing was already lulling you to sleep as well.  You pressed a kiss on his bare shoulder as you settled in to sleep. Then you heard the sound of paper.

You blinked awake, shifted your body and heard the sound again. Carefully you sat up, trying not to wake him up.

You knew it wasn’t uncommon for Hypnos to fall asleep with a scroll or codex in his hand and you didn’t want it to ruin it by sleeping on it. You dug for it, trying not to move the pile of pillows and felt the rough paper against your fingertips.

The scroll you pulled had burn marks around the edges. You frowned at it, Hypnos wasn’t that careless even if he was clumsy at times.

Unable to help yourself, you sat up as you unfurled the scroll just a bit and saw your name. You kept going, wondering what this was. It didn’t look like Hypnos' writing, too uneven.

You read the title.

“Son of Achilles, greatest of the Greek And Son of Patroclus, greatest of the Myrmidons.”

Under the title, there was your name in full.

You glanced over to Hypnos, still sounded asleep. One of his hands curled sweetly against his chin. You pulled the blanket up higher, tucking him in. Your knuckles brushed against his cheek as you moved your hand back.

You return to the scroll and begin to read.

~

You stared, eyes slowly moving across the great hall.  Broken plates and pottery were everywhere on the floor. You saw that someone had taken the liberty of drawing penises on Lord Hades' desk. You laughed quietly to yourself, hopefully Hypnos had a chance to see it for himself.

Poor Dusa will have her work cut out for her.

You spied someone's tunic hanging from the rafters and you grimaced. At least it didn't look like it belonged to your parents, it was too small and too pink, so you were probably safe.

You made your way through the chaos and you saw Zagreus resting on his folded arms on one of the tables. His laurel was crooked and you heard faint snoring.

Both Meg and Thanatos stood by him, talking quietly to each other. Both were dressed up like Zagreus. Meg had her hair down and Thanatos wore a headband with a small purple gem center in his forehead. There was something about the talk that felt private so you just ducked your head and kept moving.

After a few moments, you wondered if Hypnos and your parents had already retired when the others left.

Until you heard Hypnos' laugh drifted over from the lounge area. You followed the voice, wondering who he was talking to.

You froze when you saw your parents and Hypnos seated together, several glasses between them.

Of course, you thought to yourself, they would run into each other. You felt foolish for not realizing that sooner.  You stayed where you were by the opening, watching them with a nervousness in your chest.

Achilles was quiet, smiling fondly at Patroclus, his love plain as day on his face. Patroclus was waving a hand around as he retold a story, a small grin on his face.

You almost didn't recognize Hypnos.

Like his family, he wore black as well, his arms exposed. In place of his sleep mask, there was a simple golden headband. It gleamed in the lounge’s faint lighting and he looked… good.  He looked happy and flushed as he laughed at something Patroclus said and you soaked in the sight like a dying man for water.

Almost unwillingly you started forward, a need to just be close to him.

Patroclus saw you first, “Pluto was boring, my son?” By the flush on his face and his louder voice, You knew he was deeper in his cup than Achilles. Your father laughed, and Hypnos covered his smile, and he was so beautiful when he looked at you with that familiar mischievous glint.

“Oh gods, not this again Pa.” You said. You stood next to Hypnos, placing a hand on his chair. “I still stand by what I said.”

Patroclus shook his head, and told Hypnos. “I spent years of my life trying to get this boy to like philosophy.” He turned to Achilles, “I blame you for this.”

Achilles grinned, pressing a kiss against Patroclus’ cheek. “Of course, my beloved.”

You groaned, “Really?”

“Sorry, I think my parents forget other people can see them.” You muttered to Hypnos. Hypnos just shook his head with a grin.

Achilles pulled a chair from another table, placed it between Patroclus and Hypnos and he patted it, “Come join us, lad.”

You did, fingers brushing against Hypnos’ back for a moment.

Then, you felt Hypnos’ leg pressed against you. After a moment, you returned the gentle pressure and saw Hypnos relaxed just a bit.

Hypnos was able to hide it but it was clear to you that he was nervous. Patroclus ’ eyes darted over to Achilles and he stood, “We got the next round.” And he stood, waving Achilles with him.

Your father nodded, glancing over to Hypnos for a second and they took off.  Achilles held Patroclus close as they made their way over the cook.

“They love you so much, do you know that?” Hypnos said quietly with a soft, almost sad smile. He was so beautiful right now you felt tongue-tied. Honestly if you could have, you would have already kissed him.

“I think they like you. They don’t normally act like this in front of other people.” You said just as quietly when you found the words.

“Yeah?” Hypnos peeked beneath his white lashes and you would give an arm right now just to be able to hold him.

“I do.” You said.

When it came time for goodbyes, Achilles hugged you then pulled a surprised Hypnos in a hug. Hypnos laughed warmly, patting his back.

When Patroclus hugged you, he whispered. "He is a good fit for you. Treat him right."

“I will.” You whispered back. You looked over to Hypnos, at how happy he was and you meant it.

~

You felt him move when you were about done with the scroll.

“What are you looking- Oh.” Hypnos’ whole body froze. You didn’t acknowledge him, just finished reading the last few words.

It was one thing to live your life, to know what happened but it was another thing to read it in someone else's handwriting.

"I'm surprised how much they got right, about my death I mean. I was fighting in the war before I was seventeen." You said in a low tone. Hypnos sat up, and after a moment pressed a hand against your arm.

"I'm sorry." Hypnos said gently. "I-im sorry. I should've warned you I had this."

You looked at the burned marks along the side, some parts of the writing were burned but not so much that it was unreadable. "Pyrrhus tried to burn it, didn't he?"

"Yes." Hypnos said quietly. "I didn't know if you knew what he did."

"He bragged about it often enough." You said, mouth twisting in distaste. "He never knew when to shut up."

You closed the scroll and handed it back to Hypnos. Wordlessly he snapped it back to the bookcase.

After a moment, Hypnos opened his arms to you. You stared, not sure if you wanted the comfort. Not when all your mistakes were written for the whole world to see.

Then you looked at his golden eyes, saw there was no judgment, no distaste.  Just bright and hopeful and something deep broke in you. You sunk into his arms, taking a deep breath.

Hypnos tighten his arms around you, his hand running down your back. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on Hypnos and his warmth. If you thought only about this you might be fine.

"Sometimes I think you forget you were just a man." Hypnos said. "That you couldn't have known. That you can’t control everything."

You swallowed, "I should have. I-i could have. If I had known that-"

"But you didn't, dearest. And that's not your fault." He said, running a smoothing hand up and down your back. You took a deep breath, then another followed by more as your eyes stung.

If Hypnos felt dampness against his shoulder, he had the grace not to say anything.

~

The moment you and Hypnos returned from the feast, Hypnos flopped back first on his bed with a groan, “I am never moving again.” He looked at you,”You will carry me for the rest of forever.”

You sat on the edge, close enough to be in reach. You chuckled, cupping his ankle. “Oh will I?”

“Yes. And you will enjoy it.” He told you, golden eyes narrowed.

Slowly you ran your hand up, over his calf and his knee, only stopping on his thigh. The movement pushed his chiton up, revealing his legs.

Hypnos bite his lip, quietly watching you. Slowly his legs parted and you moved, filling in the space. You leaned down, cupping his head and pulled him into a kiss.

Hypnos moaned softly as he tugged you closer, deepening the kiss. You broke the kiss after long moments, and moved his head to expose his neck. You pressed kissed against his jaw, working your way down his neck. Every breathless gasp just pushed you farther.

“You look so fucking good.” You muttered against his skin and he laughed. “I look like my family.”

You huffed against his collarbone and moved upward.

“Not the outfit, just you. You don’t know how lovely you look.” You said against the shell of his ear. Hypnos whimpered, his trembling hand found your shoulder clasp and tried to get open.

You grabbed his wrist, pinning it to the bed. “You first.” You said, pulling away and making short work of Hypnos’ belt. Hypnos scrambled to help you undress him. When he went to remove the headband, you stopped him. “Leave it. Please.” You rasped.

His hands dropped to your face to give you a slow and sweet kiss.

Before you could push him back down, because you couldn’t help but have your hand roam across his soft skin. He loosen your shoulder clasp, “Take it off.” He ordered and you obeyed.

The first chance you got, you pinned him down, claiming his mouth for yourself.

It didn’t matter who was a mortal or god, not here. All it mattered was you and him, two lovers moving together, learning and loving each other.

Afterwards, Hypnos held you close, running a hand on your chest. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, “Dearest.” He whispered, almost too quiet for you to hear.

“Love.” You whispered, listening to the beating heart of a god, of him.

[forever-rogue]

A game of 20 questions that ends with "Can I kiss you?" with bucky?

AN | this is just some sweet fluff - enjoy!

Warnings | none

Masterlist | Bucky, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m bored,” you huffed as you paced around the living room for the upteenth time. Deciding to be even more dramatic you flopped onto the couch and sighed heavily, “there’s nothing to do!”

“You can find something to occupy yourself,” Bucky didn’t even bother to look up from the newspaper he was scouring as you rolled your eyes at him, “your generation would never survive back when I was young.”

“Whatever old man,” rolling your eyes, you quickly threw up your middle finger before shifting onto your back to stare at the ceiling, “I thought like...going into hiding in a remote location would be cool and yet...it’s literally the worst. We can’t even go anywhere or really do anything. Limited technology...can we at least go out and go for a walk around town?”

“No,” Bucky was quick to cut you off, throwing the paper onto the table, “it’s not safe. We can’t trust anyone, not right now. We’ll leave as soon as Sam gives us the all clear.”

“Hopefully soon,” your lips pulled into a pout as you stared at the crackling staccato of the ceiling. Your hands rested on your stomach as you twiddled your thumbs and concentrated on your breathing, “this is the last time I ever get mixed up with the two of you. You’re a load of trouble - more than you’re w-oof.”

Your head snapped up as you glared at Bucky for throwing his newspaper at you. He offered you a small smirk with a shrug of his shoulders. You wadded it into a ball and tossed it across the room before sitting back up. Bucky had already turned his attention to a new book and you took advantage of the moment and stared at him in silence.

It wasn’t long before he felt your gaze on him and caught your eye, quirking a brow in question, “can I help you?”

"As if," your face immediately warmed up as you dropped your gaze to the floor. Of course he'd caught you - he was still a super soldier after all, why you'd expected anything less was being you. An awkward silence settled over the two of you as he kept a knowing little smirk on his face. It wasn't that you didn't like him, oh no, it was quite the opposite...despite the fact that he might have been a little boring and old school, he was still handsome. And funny...although that wasn't always intentional. Regardless - you weren't about to just up and tell him that you had a thing for him.

You stood up and busied yourself in the kitchen, making some tea to help pass the time. Perhaps then you could read a book too….or maybe a bath. Something.

"Want to play a game?"

"Okay, now that sounds mega creepy," the question caught you off guard but made you laugh nonetheless as you focused on the tea and not his intense gaze, "but I guess….there's not much else to do you. What do you want to play, old man? Yahtzee? Go fish? Mahjong?"

"Very funny," he scoffed, "how about twenty questions?"

"Umm...sure?" you finished up your tea, stirring in some honey before taking your mug and padding over to him. He remained silent, but watchful as you sat across the table, "you want to start with being it?"

"No, no," he insisted, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning. He was up to...something, "you're the little bored bunny, it's all you. Think of a person, place, or thing.”

“I know!” you huffed as you closed your eyes and tried to pick something...anything. So why was the only thing you could think of Bucky? Internally panicking, you tried to keep a straight face as you decided to roll with it; whatever happened, happened, “okay. Go ahead and ask your first question.”

“Is it a person?” oh no. He was going to get it almost immediately. It was like he just knew, as if he could read your mind. Swallowing the nervous lump in your throat you nodded lightly, “is it a man?”

“Yes - you know, you really know how to take the fun out of anything,” maybe you could discourage him from playing instead?

“Why? Because this is going to be easy for me?” a taunt followed by a smirk, “it’s all part of the game, bunny. Learn how to play better then. Does he have dark hair?”

“Yes,” you sighed, “I know how to play, you’re just no fun.”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, “is he famous?"

"I guess…people know who he is," grabbing your mug, you took a long, hearty drink, "fine, we'll say yes. That's four."

"Do you like this person?" damn it. He knew there was no way he didn't.

"Tolerate," you cleared your throat as he raised his eyebrows, clearly waiting for a yes or no to his answer, "yes."

"Is he older?" you didn't even bother to look at him before nodding, "is he a friend?"

"Yes," you set your mug down gently before catching his eye for a moment; you'd expected to find a smirk on his face, but instead there was a soft smile. It was the same smile that often managed to put butterflies in your stomach, even when you tried to fight it, "umm, Bucky-"

"Hang on," he whispered softly, "do you want to kiss him?"

"I-"

"Is it me?"

A silence filled the room, so quiet that the ticking of the aging clock on the wall was almost non-existent. Opening and closing your mouth a few times, you looked at him with a nervous expression.

At this point, there was no reason to lie. He'd see right through you either way. Instead you allowed yourself to meet his gaze before confidently answering, "yes."

"So, what I'm hearing is that I should kiss you?" before you knew it, both if you were standing up and walking towards each other. Your chest rose and fell softly as you looked up at him, but your nerves dissipated as he reached up and tenderly cupped your cheek.

"Yes."

He leaned in hesitantly, making sure you weren't about to change your mind, watching as your eyes widened in surprise. Just when you couldn't handle it any longer, you leaned up ever so slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. The boldness of your action surprised you so much that you quickly pulled back, a nervous expression clouding your features.

"Bucky, I-"

"Its okay," he promised gently, as you couldn't help the grin on your face, "if you don't mind, I think I'd like to do that again. You know, just for practice."

"For practice," you snorted softly, "whatever you want to call it old man."

"Hey," he reminded you with a cheeky wink, "I'm not the one who made me the subject of twenty questions."

"Maybe so - but I know if the tables were turned you'd have thought of me!"

"Bold of you to assume."

"Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Good," you put your hands on cheeks and pulled him down back down to your lips, kissing him softly, "because I'd like to do that a lot more."

[harrieatthemet]

Mustache

He has never been keen on sharing. 

And Gemma’s mere existence, as well as the small indent on her left thumb she swears is a scar (though Harry vehemently denies it is), is living proof. 

Mr Ducky was his favorite bath time companion for a good bulk of his childhood. There were even times he’d carry it around with him in the house tied to a string like a pet, one of Anne’s fondest memories and favorite stories to tell whenever she found the opportunity. 

Maybe it was Gemma’s own fault; she was only six at the time and was foolishly under the impression that the stupid rubber toy was at anyone’s disposal, which is what led her to try and situate the duck in her backpack as she geared up for school. 

It’s also what led her to tears because Harry caught her on the way out the front door, Mr Ducky in tow, and he instinctively sunk his teeth right into the side of her hand in protest. And, okay fine, he may have bit down a little harder than he should have, but the overall message he was sending came across very clear. Gemma never touched anything he owned again for a very, very, long time; and eventually went on to tell everyone in her class she had a vampire as a brother. 

“What do we think of this little number,” your hip jut, innocent as it was, just now became a permanent memory in Harry’s brain, “too much, like.. revealing?”

You like nice in red; devilish, even, and in the best way possible. There’s nothing revealing about the dress at all. Somehow, though, he finds himself perched squeamishly at the foot of your bed in complete fucking anguish. In theory, no, the dress is not too much. It’s the perfect ensemble and flatters you so well he feels like whoever made the dress conjured it up with you specifically in mind. 

And no, it’s not too much, for literally anyone else except him. How is such a modest dress enough for him to think you up the way he is right now; bent over in front of him with your hair wrapped tightly up in his palm while that dress lays in a sloppy ball by his feet. 

“Would be nice with nude shoes,” he mules, “like, those sandals y’ave, yeah?” 

The way your eyes light up, that same way they always do when your mind starts to move at light’s speed as you start assembling a million different ideas into one, is enough to tug a grin onto his mouth. 

He didn’t really want to agree to this. When you texted first to ask he ignored it, that way you’d have just carried on without him and he could blame a busy schedule or an overrun nap on his delayed response time. It’s much easier to blame a missed text for no response. Of course it’s not in your nature to send a text, and he knew that already. So it came a son surprise when he was bombarded by 4 phone calls. By the fifth one he had picked up, succumbing to you and just the flat out unfulfilled urge he had to hear your voice at the other end of the phone.

“Seriously Harry,” your voice is like fucking honey, sweet and sullen like it always is, and he’s in euphoria listening to it as you poke your earring through the lobe of your left ear, “it’s just, y’know I don’t- I’m nervous and I appreciate you helping me do something as stupid as picking a dress.” 

“S’not stupid,” he reassures, “y’know I just like spending time with yeh, since y’so busy ’n stuff.”

Which is true. That’s the only thing that got him over here; and he rescheduled a zoom call just to sit in your bedroom for all of twenty minutes. Not one part of him regretted it, either.

“I’m busy?” You tease, “coming from the A lister who’s in London, than LA, than New York, London again, oh, than LA again oh, then ‘sorry love, m’in Tokyo.’”

Also true, he knows that, which is why he’s snickering at fault in response to your harmless teasing. He wouldn’t say it now, mainly because he doesn’t want to make it weird, but regardless of where he falls on the map he somehow still finds a way to fit you in. He’s never minded doing it, either. 

Twenty minutes isn’t enough. Maybe another twenty more could be a sufficient amount. That’s almost an hour, right? Forty minutes is almost a full hour with you and he’d love to get even that much. Or twenty more hours, even, would be that much better. It’s better for him to think of getting more time with you than to let his thoughts wander and remind him of where you’re getting ready to go off to. 

A date. It’s why he was so hesitant to come here. It’s hard enough as it is being a prisoner to his own thoughts, being around you and not getting to interact with you the way he actually wants; kiss you the way he wants, touch you the way he wants, hold you and talk to you the way he wants. Adding a new element to the mix, another man getting access to you the way he wants, well that’s just mental warfare. 

You don’t know anything about though. And thank God, because if you could get a peak into his thoughts and see just a preview of what he thinks he almost knows for sure you’d ice him out in a heartbeat. He’s got a soft spot for you, nonetheless, which is why he swallowed the massive-sized lump in his throat when you told him you needed help on an outfit for a date and b lined it over to your place.

“Who’s this guy, anyways.” He chimes, following you similar to that of a lost puppy as you start heading towards the staircase, “Like, wha’s he look like ’n stuff.”

Immediately after he asks he wishes he hadn’t. The way that pesky fucking lump reappears when you wiggle your eyebrows in response, stuffing your hand into your leather purse in an attempt to fish out your phone. A simple response like ‘handsome’ or ‘he’s a nice guy’ would’ve sufficed for him. Seriously, that’s all he needed. What he didn’t need was an entire fucking slideshow of an above average looking guy. And he had a cool mustache, to boot, which really pissed Harry off for some reason. 

“Should probably shave,” he squints his eyes at the photo you’ve got propped right in front of his face, trying his hardest to act like he isn’t so fucking jealous of that mustache, “kinda looks like a squirrel on his top lip."

“If I didn’t know you so well,” you tut teasingly, “I’d think you’re a dick.”

“You know me so well and still don’t think that?” 

He likes the way your laugh sounds, and it makes him happy that he said something amusing enough to drag it out of you. And the toothy smile you pair with it practically knocks the wind right out of him. Everything you do seems to wow him, corny as it sounds. It makes him feel so at ease, and the butterflies he gets each time gets him reminiscing to the days where he was just a kid and had the worlds biggest crush on the girl who sat three rows ahead of him in grade school. He’s giddy and he doesn’t want you to leave for this date. 

For a second he thinks about doing something elaborate; breaking his foot or faking an illness so that you literally have no choice but to hang back and look after him. That’s selfish though, and honestly just crazy and super fucked up, so he opts out of that. But he doesn’t want you to go so bad he seriously considers it, especially as you start sorting through the downstairs closet to find a coat that doesn’t clash with your shoes. 

He could just be honest. He could just tell you that he doesn’t want you to go, solely because he’s absolutely infatuated with you and for every hour he’s awake and functioning you manage to consume every thought he has. He could just be an adult and tell you he’s got feelings for you that very much surpass a platonic, friendly demeanor. That might be a better way into persuading you to stay back with him than breaking his fucking foot. 

“Ok now wait a minute,” he chokes, and there’s a painful twang that strikes his gut when you frown, “gotta tell y’somethin’.” 

“What,” you groan, and he swears he would rather die right now than do anything else, “it’s the shoes, right? They make my calves look like I’m a running back don’t they?” 

He wants to laugh but he thinks if he opens his mouth he would projectile vomit everywhere. But the thought occurs to him that if he does that than it would be an excellent excuse for you to skip the date. Though, of course, he runs the risk of grossing you out and absolutely humiliating himself all in one go of it. 

So he shakes his head no. In fact he loves the shoes, and they make your ankles look slender and really compliment your legs quite nicely. Still, he’s scrambling to string together a coherent sentence because his brain is working a lot faster than the muscles in his mouth are and it feels like someone just super glued his lips shut.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” you tease, and the cheeky wink you shoot him over your shoulder just edges him even more if that’s possible at this point, “Styles.”

“I don’t want y’to go on this date, (Y/N).” 

He’s well aware that he blurted that out in a way that he really, really, wish he hadn’t. Now the air in the room is stale and heavy, dense too, like someone just sucked all the air out and left the two of you here with nothing to inhale but words and unspecified tension. 

And he’s starting to get more anxious as your playful manner dissipates. He can tell your puzzled not just be the demeanor of your face, but by the stance of your body because your letting shoulders hang the way you do when you’re a little uncomfortable. 

“Oh,” you breath, and his chest starts sinking inward, “okay, I just- well why not? Do I not.. like, do I look bad or something?”

“No,” he coos, and he feels like the worlds biggest asshole when you start to frown, “No y’don’t- Christ, (Y/N) y’look amazing. Y’always look so fuckin’ amazing. It’s just-”

“What,” you huff, “than what is it, than? Why wouldn’t you want me to go?”

He’s really done it now. The proper thing to do would’ve just been to let you go, walk out with you and watch you drive off before he headed home himself. The proper thing to do would’ve been for him to just go home and think about you on a date with someone other than himself, curled up in a ball watching a Friends episode he’s already seen four times while he felt sorry for himself. But that’s not what happened, and what he should’ve done was just broke the fucking foot like he initially thought to do. That would’ve been less agonizing than this. 

“Because,” he’s frustrated now, not with you but really just himself, “I should be taking y’out. M’absolutely in love with yeh, (Y/N), and I don’t have a cool mustache but I could take y’out on a date, ’n I want to so bad.” 

There’s still that dense energy looming in the room, and his gut now too as he feels it winding up tightly in an anxious bundle of knots and twists. You’re not saying anything and the only thing he notices is that you’re breathing is vaguely staggered and your clutching onto that purse in your hand like he’s about to snatch it and run off. God, he should’ve just broken the foot!

“Please don’t go out wit him,” and now, his voice is small, “think it might kill me.”

[over-under-through1]

Have any more headcanons for Robin, Mike, Robike(Them together), Miblo and Buttercup?

i’ll try to get a few of these down ><

Robin, Mike, and Robike gen headcannons:

Robin is deathly allergic to shell fish. she found this out okay her and mikes 2nd date, where he took her out for sushi, she got a tempura shrimp roll, and 10 minutes later had to be rolled out in an ambulance. never again. (don’t ask how she had never eaten it before)

in solidarity to her shell fish allergy, mike refuses to eat any kind of shell fish as well. call him a romantic.

mike is a HORRID singer. boy sounds like a car’s rev engine. it’s bad.

this fact does not stop him from tearing it up on karaoke night at the Utonium household

he is also a hopeless dancer. white boy dance moves for days. some of his favorites include: the lawmower, the sprinkler (basically any dance that’s named after backyard machinery), the running man, and worst of all, flossing

once again, this does not stop him from trying. “BABE!! BAE!! HUN!! LOVE!! LOOK AT ME GO!! COME OVER HERE LETS DANCE TOGETHER!!” *cue groaning and hiding behind Buttercup on Robins behalf as Buttercup laughs her ass off with Butch and records*

don’t get between Robin and her ice cream sandwiches. my girl turns into a banshee the second she spots one.

Mike cannot swallow pills. he has tried so, so hard, but year after year he ends up gagging and crushes them up to drink down with water. poor guy, don’t even bring advil liquigels into his line of vision

Mitch, Pablo, and Miblo gen headcannons:

when Mitch first saw Pablo walk into his 10th grade homeroom, he gay panicked, blue screened, mumbled at Buttercup “pretty… boy…” then zombie walked past her, the teacher, Pablo himself (who noticed and was immediately enamored with Mitch), out the room, past the vice principal, then trudged 4 miles home in a daze with Buttercup flying behind him shouting. he woke up an hour later with no recollection of any of this

Buttercup still makes fun of him to this day for the incident. she tells the story in her toast as best woman at the Miblo wedding

Pablo is a giant. he is a good 7 inches taller than Mitch (as stated in my height headcannons post). Mitch makes Pablo carry him around practically everywhere and Pablo ALWAYS hits his head when he walks into Mitch’s trailer. always. every single time. it doesn’t matter that he’s come over hundreds of times, or that he tells himself beforehand each time “Pablo, you will not, under any circumstances, hit your head on the door frame this time. Mitch will not make fun of you because it will not happen.” it still happens. it’s not preventable.

it doesn’t even matter that even people TALLER than Pablo (cough Boomer cough) can enter Mitch’s trailer without hitting their head. Pablo keeps a cool head most of the time, but he has broken and threatened the door many times in the past.

Mitch is a mini space heater and Pablo is the coldest man alive. many-a-cuddling sessions happen in winter (and though Pablo won’t admit it, fall too. and spring.)

Mitch is friends with basically everyone at their school, he’s very extroverted and good at making conversation with people, he tries making friends with at least one new person a day

so, so many people ask Pablo if he’s on the volleyball or basketball team. they are very, very wrong, my boy is the editor of the school paper and he could not be prouder of his position. FANTASTIC writer, and when you have an in with the schools very own superheroes, there’s nothing really stopping you from climbing your way to the top

Mitch was highkey terrified of Butch when Buttercup first introduced him, but now there is literally nothing that Butch could do to make Mitch feel intimidated. if Butch even tried, Mitch would be right on his ass making fun of him for it

gen Buttercup headcannons (tw: mentions of panic attacks):

still has a fear of spiders, but instead of screaming over them and flying away, she gets a very dark look in her eyes and will not hesitate to destroy the house in order to kill the vermin. her sisters and all of her friends have to constantly be aware of any 8 legged bugs around them so they can keep it out of BC’s sights, if only to preserve the land within a 5 mile radius around them

has been begging Prof.Utonium to let her get a lizard for the past 4 years. she had one for a week but her dad found it and immediately set it free

her ears are the most sensitive of the groups, they all have supersonic senses, but BC’s are especially heightened, possibly due to her lack of “special powers” (total fucking bullshit btw, fuck you ppg writers for treating BC like shit)

i think?? i’ve mentioned her ability to see in the future before here?? that’s because of the her senses. no one ask me about the science behind it, just go with it, okay? super eye sight= glimpses into the future

this ability has saved many of her teammates from colossal damage before, but (angst warning), because she’s had to see those images in her mind to be able to warn them about it, it’s left lasting trauma on her and has made her very protective of her friends and family. do not fuck with anyone that BC is close with, she will mess you up for it

one particular prediction she got showed Butch in a very… gruesome situation. i don’t want to go into detail, but it fucked her up for a bit, and there was about a week where Buttercup couldn’t/wouldn’t leave Butch’s side in fear of what could happen to him

she still sometimes gets flashes of that memory and it’s caused a couple panic attacks. when she found out, Blossom taught her some breathing exercises to help her through it if one comes on

THAT GOT SAD IM SO SORRY I FULLY INTENDED FOR THAT HEADCANNON TO JUST BE ABOUT BC HAVING A SPECIAL POWER AND IT DIVERGED INTO THAT

okay one SWEET headcannon for the road. Buttercup really values quality time with her loved ones, and though she doesn’t admit it often, everytime the team + the norms have their little hang out sessions, she sees it as a time for her to chill, and it’s those times that she feels her happiest and like she can genuinely be herself without judgement from classmates or the press

thank you for the ask!! i got a random burst of inspiration that i haven’t felt in a bit when this was sent in, i appreciate you for that :))

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hi love! I've had this idea for a bit and I think it would be perfect in the same universe of your plank all over me one shots! Okay do you remember that interview where Conor Maynard planked Tom with the fake interviewer?? What if Tom tried to do the same thing to prank y/n but as soon as the fake interviewer walks in she immediately knows what's happening so then gives super weird answers or tries to mess with tom in all the answers she gives?? You don't have to do it if you don't want to tho!

Plank All Over Me - Prank Interview Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom and Connor Maynard try to prank you, but you prank then right back

Disclaimer: you don’t have to have read the others to understand, but check them out ;)

Plank All Over Me

Plank All Over Me - Yoga Edition

Plank All Over Me - Couples Tag

Masterlist

“What’s going on guys? It’s Conor Maynard here and I’m joined by an old friend of mine.” Conor pointed to Tom.

“Tom Holland.” Tom smiled at the camera.

“You May have heard of him, probably not. He’s not very well known.” Conor joked.

“I know, mate. I’m so lucky you’re putting me on your channel. Could be my big break.” Tom replied.

“My other friend Josh Pieters is in the other room with Toms girlfriend, the incredibly famous and lovely Y/n L/n. If you’ve seen my video where Josh, Casper and I pranked Tom with a fake interview, you already know what’s about to go down. If you don’t, Josh has an AirPod in under his headband. We’re going to be giving him things to say and he has to say them to Y/n. We’re gonna try to really freak her out. Are you ready Tom?”

“Very ready. Y/n, I love you pretty girl but you had this coming.” Tom rubbed his hands together. 

“Looks like she’s in the room. Introduce yourself.” Conor instructed. “But make it uncomfortable.”

“Hi, I’m Josh but you can call me Josh.” Josh said with a blank stare. You vaguely recognized the boy interviewing you but you couldn’t pinpoint where he was from.

“Oh uh, hi Josh.” You laughed lightly. “I’m Y/n.”

“Tell her you had a pet called Y/n and something terrible happened to it.” Conor snickered.

“I had a fish called Y/n when I was younger.” Josh informed you.

“Aw, that’s sweet.” You smiled.

“Yeah. It was my best friend until my brother swallowed it alive.” He said with no emotion.

“Oh.” You replied, not knowing what else to say. You began to sense something was off. He was wearing a headband, for one, and he didn’t look like he normally wore them. Someone was up to something.

“Even more uncomfortable.” Tom ordered.

“I’m a big fan so it’s very nice to meet you.” Josh said. “A huge fan actually, if you know what I mean.” Josh gave you a wink and you swallowed thickly. It suddenly dawned on you where you knew him from. He was Josh Pieters, the YouTuber who pranked Tom. You’d seen a number of his prank videos with Casper Lee and Joe Sugg and had a feeling that this one would be no different. If he wanted to prank you, you’d give him a taste of his own medicine.

“Not that uncomfortable!” Tom said.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You answered, preparing to have a little fun.

“Be normal. Ask her about the Marvel making Eddie a girl.” Conor said.

“For those who don’t know, the character Eddie Brock, who later gets infected with the symbiote Venom, is a male in the comics. How do you feel about Marvel changing the role to be played by a woman after your audition?” Josh asked. You thought about your answer for a moment.

“I think it was a really dumb move, actually. I originally auditioned for the role of Anne, who’s Eddie Brocks girlfriend. I think they should’ve kept Eddie a boy since women are weak, useless creatures and I hate them all.” You answered matter-of-factly and Josh looked a little taken aback. You nodded as if it confirm your answer and Josh looked lost.

“Oh.” Josh said and leaned to the side as if he were listening to something you couldn’t hear.

“I’m kidding. I love that they made Eddie a girl. I was so excited when they called me and told me who I was playing.” You followed up. You didn’t want them to catch on too soon that you were messing with them. You had to dial it down.

“Ask about the Spider-Man/Venom relationship.” Conor told Josh.

“And me. Ask about me.” Tom added.

“If it fun getting to play Tom Holland’s on screen girlfriend as well as being his in real life girlfriend?” Josh asked you and you smirked. So Tom was behind this as well. Now was your time to really mess with them.

“Not really, if I’m honest.” You answered.

“What?” Conor laughed.

“What?” Tom deadpanned.

“Really?” Josh asked while stifling a laugh.

“It’s just, there are so many attractive men in the Marvel cast, Tom included don’t get me wrong.” You assured him. “I kinda wish they let me date one of them on screen since I already date Tom off screen.”

“Ask her who she’d want to date.” Tom demanded, watching you with hooded eyes.

“Who do you wish you were dating?” Josh asked you.

“Definitely Chris Evans.” You answered too quickly for Toms liking. “Oh, did you mean what character?”

“I’m gonna die. I’m actually going to perish.” Tom backed away from the microphone and covered his mouth with his hands.

“Keep going. Ask more about Tom.” Conor instructed.

“But you like working with Tom, right?” Josh tried to bring the conversation to a positive point.

“Again, not really.” You shrugged.

“Interesting.” Josh stated, silently begging for the boys to tell him what to say. No one was prepared for your answers.

“Ask why.” Conor said as Tom fanned himself in the background.

“Can you elaborate on that?” Josh asked.

“It’s just weird acting along side your boyfriend. I think he should leave the acting me to, honestly.” You smiled innocently, knowing Tom was somewhere freaking out.

“Do you think he’s bad?” Tom grabbed them microphone.

“Do you think he’s bad?” Josh repeated.

“Well, he’s very attractive. I’m sure that was a big factor in getting the part. But his American accent…”, you made a face, “not the best. Being from New York is such a big part of Peter Parker that I feel like Marvel should’ve gone with an American actor. No offense to Tom, of course. He’s great in all his other movies.”

“Wow.” Josh squeaked.

“She told me she loves my American accent.” Tom whispered, bewildered.

“Ask her about her favorite accent.” Conor tried to lighten the mood.

“Do you like British accents better?” Josh asked you.

“I’ll tell you what I like. Chris Hemsworth’s accent.” You gushed. “I think it’s the hottest thing ever.”

“Did you guys hear that?” Tom asked gravely.

“Hear what?” Conor asked him.

“My heart shattering.” Tom answered.

“Tom, it’s just an accent. It’s okay.” Conor assured his friend. Tom couldn’t even hear him anymore. He grabbed the microphone with a heavy hand.

“Ask her if she likes Australians better than the British.” He demanded.

“You think Australian accents are better than British accents?” Josh repeated Toms question.

“Is that even a question? Duh.” You laughed.

“I can’t breath.” Tom wheezed.

“I do like your accent, though.” You said, catching everyone off guard.

“She what?” Tom asked. “What?”

“Oh, thank you.” Josh said, beginning to panic.

“Where are you from?” You asked, leaning forward on your hands.

“South Africa.” Josh told you and you smiled brightly and you continued your plan.

“Wait, really? That’s so exciting. I’ve always wanted to go there.” You beamed.

“Since when?” Conor looked up at Tom.

“She’s never said anything about South Africa.” Tom said in confusion.

“It’s a beautiful place.” Josh agreed.

“I bet. England is so dreary.” You rolled your eyes. “Maybe you can take me to South Africa one day.”

“Maybe.” Josh nodded as he tried to send messages in Morse code by blinking rapidly at the camera. You smirked, knowing your plan was working.

“Change the subject, Josh. Before Tom dies.” Conor ordered.

“Ask her about the wallpaper.” Tom blurted.

“Why the wallpaper?” Conor asked.

“It’s the least romantic topic I could think of!” Tom exclaimed.

“So, this is some really nice wallpaper, wouldn’t you agree?” Josh changed the subject. This threw you off a little but you were determined to win this prank.

“I was just thinking that! You read my mind.” You said excitedly.

“That backfired.” Conor said as he watched Tom fall to the floor in agony.

“Your name is Josh right?” You asked coyly.

“Yes ma’am.” Josh answered.

“I love that name.” You complimented. “I always have.”

“Do you?” Josh’s mouth dried up.

“Totally. It’s so exotic.” You beamed. Toms head snapped up from the floor.

“Exotic? There is a white boy named Josh in every high school movie ever made.” Tom exclaimed. “Exotic compared to what? Toast?”

“Thank you. I like it too.” Josh said awkwardly, wishing the boys would give him something to say.

“It’s so much better than a white bread name like Tom. Who names their kid Tom? What is he, an apostle?” You laughed. “Josh is way cooler in my opinion. It’s like the name of a god or something.”

“A god?” Tom nearly screamed. “What would Josh be the god of?”

“Gingers.” Conor shrugged.

“Thank you.” Josh said and gave the camera a stern glare.

“Tell her about your quail.” Conor suggested.

“That’s perfect. She’ll think he’s a total weirdo! Great thinking Conor.” Tom patted his friend on the back.

“Not exactly my plan, but okay.” Connor nodded.

“Do you have any pets?” Josh began his segway.”

“I do. I have a dog named Tessa.” You answered. “She’s not really my dog, though. She’s Tom’s.”

“I know you’re an animal person. You must love her.” Josh smiled now that the prank was back on track.

“Honestly, I can’t stand her. She’s always sleeping in our bed with us and begging at the table. I’m this close to telling Tom to get rid of her.” You pinched your fingers together and watched Josh go pale.

“That was it. That was the thing that killed me.” Tom mumbled as he slumped in a chair.

“Talk about the quail!” Conor repeated in an effort to save Tom.

“I have a pet too. It’s a quail.” Josh told you proudly.

“A quail? How did you get a quail?” You asked with a smile.

“Well my friends and I bought a carton of quail eggs and put them in an incubator. Only one hatched but I’ve kept her as a pet.” Josh told you the infamous story. You’d seen the video he posted about it but decided to play dumb.

“You saved a quail? That’s amazing.” You gushed as if you’d never heard the story before.

“It was just a fun thing for YouTube but I’ve actually grown quite fond of her.” Josh said, beginning to enjoy the interview.

“That’s the mosh amazing story I’ve ever herad.” You swore. “You’re a hero. A real life hero.”

“Okay. He put a carton of eggs in a hot box. He’s not Mother Theresa.” Tom pouted.

“You and Tom should come over and meet her sometime.” Josh suggested.

“Good. Bring the conversation back to Tom.” Conor nodded.

“Yeah. I’m feeling better now.” Tom agreed.

“Tom doesn’t have time be there. It can just be you and I.” You said as you looked at him through your lashes. Josh looked panicked.

“Never mind.” Tom groaned, clenching his stomach.

“What’s your last name, Josh?” You asked as you twirled some hair around your finger.

“Pieters.” Josh informed you.

“Pieters? That’s so cute. I love the way it sounds. Can you imagine it with my name? Y/n Pieters.” You smiled. “Doesn’t that just sound effervescent?”

“It sounds lovely, Y/n.” Josh said, eyeing you strangely.

“Toms still dead but if he were alive right now, he’d be livid.” Conor sighed as he listened.

“I can hear it. And I am in fact livid.” Tom said from his newly claimed spot on the floor.

“You know who else’s last name sounds good on me? Osterfield.” You were pulling out all the guns now. “I think Y/n Osterfield sounds great. Don’t you agree?”

“Uhhh…” Josh feared for his life if he agreed.

“Don’t you dare agree.” Tom grumbled through the microphone.

“Say you like Y/n Holland best.” Conor suggested.

“That’s good. Say that.” Tom nodded.

“I think Y/n Holland sounds better than both of those.” Josh told you.

“You think?” You made a face. “I actually hate Toms last name. It doesn’t fit with anything. It’s too long.”

“Osterfield is longer.” Josh reminded you.

“I bet Osterfield is longer.” You said and winked at the camera. Tom caught the double meaning and started sweating profusely.

“Ask her if she plans to take my last name when we’re married.” Tom asked, fully panicking now.

“Are you gonna take his last name when you’re married?” Josh repeated.

“Yeah, like we’re getting married.” You laughed.

“She doesn’t want to marry me?” Tom asked, all anger draining from him. It was replaced with devastation and defeat.

“Ask her if she wants to marry Tom.” Conor said as he watched Toms fallen face carefully.

“You guys aren’t planning on getting married?” Josh asked, feeling himself beginning to sweat.

“We are.” You nodded and Tom sighed in relief. “To other people.” You added.

“She killed me and now she’s beating my corpse with a phone book.” Tom said in exasperation.

“Try to change the subject again away from marriage.” Conor pleaded for Toms sake.

“Your hair looks really nice today.” Josh blurted.

“That’s not helping!” Tom shouted.

“Thank you! I really like your hair too. I totally have a thing for gingers.” You nodded.

“Said no one ever!” Tom scoffed.

“Abandon that conversation immediately. New plan! Ask her what her favorite thing about Tom is.” Conor shrugged.

“Speaking of Tom, whats your favorite thing about him?” Josh asked, ignoring the insult from Tom.

“My favorite thing about Tom? That’s easy.” You smiled and Tom did too. “He always puts the toilet seat down after he’s done. I hate when boys leave it up. So, probably that.”

“Her favorite thing about me is how I put the toilet seat down?” Tom asked with a blank stare.

“Ask her something else about him. He’s dying, Josh. He’s on his last leg.” Conor begged.

“Finish this sentence: my boyfriend gives the best…” Josh began.

“Kisses.” You gushed. Josh looked at the camera for approval and he heard Tom sigh happily into the microphone. “Just kidding, he gives the best directions. He’s really good at giving people directions. His kisses are lack luster, but I’m sure that doesn’t surprise anyone.”

“Ask her what in the the absolutely, positively, burning, bloody hell that meant?” Tom quipped.

“Why not?” Josh asked you.

“Do I have to say it?” You asked.

“Make her say it.” Tom ordered.

“Yes.” Josh nodded.

“No lips.” You shrugged.

“Can’t argue with her on that one, mate.” Conor told Tom.

“Can you get her to say one nice thing about me before my ghost ascends into heaven?” Tom sighed in defeat.

“What do you love about him? There must be something, right? Why else would you be together?” Josh asked you. You decided it was time to let up.

“There is something I love about Tom.” You smiled dreamily.

“Thank God.” Tom said, leaning forward to hear you clearly.

“Finally.” Conor after.

“Really? What is it?” Josh asked.

“What I really, truly love about Tom,” you smiled at the camera, “is how he thinks he can prank me better than I can prank him.”

“What?” Josh laughed as he realized you’d be toying with him.

“Wait, what?” Tom stuttered.

“What?” Conor asked at the 50th turn the video had taken.

“Come on, Josh. I smelt BS as soon as I walked in here.” You declared. “You think I haven’t seen Conners video where you pranked Tom exactly like this? You boys must think I’m dumb.”

“Wait a minute, she what? What?” Tom tried to wrap his head around what he was hearing.

“Would you look at that.” Conor said, dumbfounded.

“You knew it was a prank and you let us believe we were pranking you this entire time?” Josh asked, not bothering to hide how impressed he was.

“Yup.” You popped the p.

“Come on.” Tom pulled Connor out of the room and ran to where you and Josh were. You burst out laughing when you saw Toms red face.

“Ha! I knew I’d get you.” You clapped as you pulled Tom into a hug. “You should’ve known better than to challenge me. You know they call me Prank Sinatra.”

“No one calls you that.” He mumbled as his cheeks flamed up in embarrassment that you’d gotten him so good.

“Modern day Prank Ocean.” You shrugged smugly.

“How did you know it was a prank?” Conor asked you.

“I watch you and Josh all the time. I know a prank when I see one. I got you guy so good, thinking I liked the name Josh and all that.” You said triumphantly.

“Hey.” Josh warned.

“Sorry.” You apologized.

“So all your answers were…” Tom began.

“Complete and utter lies?” You finished. “Why yes, yes they were. Every last one.”

“You made all that up? All that stuff about my accent and not liking to work with me?” He asked hopefully, needing to hear you confirm it.

“Obviously! When do I ever say “effervescent”? You should’ve known I was only joking, lover.” You assured him as you pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’d never say that stuff. I love your accent and I love working with you.

“And the marriage stuff?” He said softly. You knew you took it a little too far with that one.

“If you want that to happen, you know what to do.” You shrugged casually and he blushed.

“I cannot believe you pranked us this badly. I feel so defeated.” Conor sighed.

“You shouldn’t have challenged the queen of pranks.” You told him as Tom presses kissed of relief to your cheek.

“Wait, what about what you said about wanting to date Chris Evans?” He remembered.

“Thanks for watching everybody! Bye!” You said to the camera before running out of the room.

“Wait! You didn’t answer my question!” Tom said as he ran after you.

“Don’t forget to subscribe!” You shouted from the hallway.

“What she said.” Conor smiled again the camera before turning it off.

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @theolwebshooter @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @ho-ho-holland @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @loveat2am @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @delicately-important-trash @mjspxrker @spideygirl2003 @the-crazy-fanfictionist @kii-mii @maryjanee23 @spacebitch2 @vgiselle @geeksareunique

[jobean12-blog]

Fool in the Rain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader 

Word Count: 1,429

Summary: Bucky comes to your rescue or maybe you come to his. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ continuation of drunk drabbles and the lovely prompt below from @buckys-henley​ Thank you for sending it in and to all the people on the west coast experiencing these fires, I’m sending my love to you always and please stay safe and be well and reach out if you need, I’m here! I had this idea while driving home yesterday and the prompt came in and I thought it would work well. Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Soft and shy Bucky, protective Bucky, sweet fluffy goodness, blushes and soft touches, kisses in the rain :) 

“Hey Buck, what are you staring at?” Steve asks, trying to follow his line of sight but there are too many people in the bar. Sam leans back in his chair and looks around, finding you seated by the bar. “Oh, the lady in red. I can see why she has your attention Barnes.” Bucky drops his eyes to his beer, ignoring Sam. Steve’s elbow nudges Bucky’s and some of the beer spills over, “why don’t you go say hi. I don’t see a boyfriend around.”

Bucky looks up at his two friends, eyes wide and his cheeks already turning pink. “I think I’ll just have another beer,” he mumbles, standing quickly and walking to the other end of the bar. “He has a full beer right in front of him,” Sam says, shaking his head. “It’s funny to see him like this, he was quite the ladies’ man back in the 40’s.” Both Sam and Steve laugh, trying to cover it up when they see Bucky returning.

“What’s so funny?” Sam presses his lips together but can’t stop the words, “Steve said you were a ladies man way back when. What the hell happened?” Bucky scoffs, letting his eyes drift over to you once again. “Shit” he grinds out, watching as you talk animatedly with some tall guy. “Too slow, Pal, told ya you should have went to say hi.”

Bucky glares at Steve, about to tell him off when his super solider hearing picks up on a distressed voice. He swings his head your way to see you push off the stool and back away from the guy. Your face is scrunched up in anger and you’re clearly upset. Bucky rushes over, picking up on a few words as he gets closer. “Hey asshole, I said no thank you. Can you please leave me alone?” The guy inches closer, his hand reaching out to touch you.

You swat it away, “I didn’t say you could touch me, take a hint!” Before the guy can make another stupid move, Bucky has him by the shirt collar, easily lifting him off the floor with his metal arm. “Hey dickhead, do you not understand what no means?” The guy starts to kick his feet and try to find footing and you giggle behind Bucky. He smiles, dropping the guy to the floor and turning to you.

“Are you ok?” You meet his eyes with an appreciative smile, “I am, thank you.” Your eyes quickly shift over Bucky’s shoulder and you open your mouth to scream and tell him to look out because the guy is about to throw a punch but Bucky turns just in time and stops him mid swing, twisting his hand awkwardly until the guy yells and flinches away. “What the fuck?”

The guy stares at Bucky’s metal arm while he rubs his wrist, “I guess you’re into freaks.” You slide up next to Bucky and take his metal hand in yours, holding it tightly and kissing his cheek. “Well I’m definitely not into douchebags.” With that you spin and walk from the bar, dragging Bucky behind you.

When the cool night air hits your skin you sigh in relief, not letting go of Bucky’s hand and smiling up at him. “Thank you again. I appreciate you coming to my rescue…” You motion for more, hoping he’ll give you a name. He shuffles on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck with his other hand, “James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

You stand on your tippy toes and kiss his cheek again, finally releasing his hand. “Thank you again Bucky. It’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n.” Bucky’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, his blush hard to hide even behind the scruff that lines his cheeks. “It’s really nice to meet you too and you’re welcome,” He finally manages to say, audibly swallowing while he stares at you. “You looked like you were handling him just fine but then he had to get touchy and I couldn’t let that happen.”  

You grab his hand again and start walking down the street. “Well, maybe but you handled it better. So, I hope I’m not keeping you from your friends back there” He looks at your intertwined hands in astonishment before answering, “nah, they’re fine. I’m not uh, keeping you from anyone or a date or um a guy or a friend or maybe you wanna be alone.” He keeps rambling, fumbling over his words and slowly squeezing your hand tighter.

You stop walking and trace your fingers along his jaw, “no, none of those things, looks like you’re stuck with me.” He gives you a lopsided grin, “I’m pretty sure it’s me you’re stuck with.” Beaming, you start swinging your arm, taking his along with it. “Sounds good to me, you did rescue me after all. And just for the record, Bucky, I don’t think you’re a freak. I’m sorry he said that to you.” He’s quiet for a moment, slowing his pace, “thanks, I’m glad you don’t.”

“I’m happy you were there,” you say sweetly, your eyes widening when an idea hits you. “Hey!” you shout, turning to face him, “wanna get some ice cream!?” He laughs, a real genuine laugh where his eyes crinkle at the corners and his nose scrunches up and you can’t help but smile, silently thanking the d-bag at the bar for bringing you Bucky.

“That sounds perfect, doll.” You squeal in happiness and keep walking down the street, chatting away about everything and nothing. The next two hours fly by in a flurry of yumminess, lots of smiles and soft touches. You try to touch him every chance you get, loving how his cheeks are permanently pink.

“So, what do we do now?” you ask, licking the last of your ice cream from the spoon and throwing it in the garbage. A cool wind blows and you involuntarily shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. Bucky quickly takes off his denim jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, pulling it tight around your chest. “Thanks,” you whisper, standing in place and swinging your hips back and forth to make the arms fly out.

He grabs them and starts to tie them together, the both of you laughing way too loud for 1 am. When he finally gets you cocooned in the jacket, he looks you over, smiling smugly at his work. The first raindrop hits his nose and rolls off, the two of you looking upward just as more drops start to fall, the sky opening up moments later in a downpour.  

You’re shrieking and trying to get the arms of his jacket untied so you can drape it over your head. Bucky is trying to help but neither of you can stop laughing and by the time you’re free you’re both soaked. Still smiling he takes a step closer and pushes some wet hair from your face. You watch the droplets of water collect on his long lashes and meet him halfway, closing the gap between your bodies.

He doesn’t speak and takes your hand in his, resting it against his chest while the other curls around your waist. He starts to slowly sway back and forth in the street, the sounds of the rain and the city beating in rhythm with your heart. “Are you cold?” he leans in to ask, bringing his lips close to your ear. “No, I’m very warm actually, thank you.”

He nods and starts to pull away, but you reach up to cup his cheek, gently tugging his face closer. A drop of rain runs down your face and settles on your upper lip. Your tongue darts out to lick it off and Bucky’s eyes darken, his thumb swiping over the spot. His touch leaves fire in its wake and you need him to kiss you, tilting your head and barely touching his lips in a silent invitation.

It’s all the encouragement he needs to press his lips to yours, the rain all but forgotten as he holds you in his arms, dancing under the soft glow of the streetlight. The rain doesn’t stop and neither does Bucky, his tongue exploring your mouth and his hands combing through your hair. When you finally come up for air, your hands circle his neck and you rest your forehead to his. He nuzzles your nose and kisses along your jawline and up to you ear, sending shivers down your spine with his whispered words, “can we do that again?”  

@aesthetical-bucky​ @auro-ora​ @bugsbucky​ @bucky-on-my-mind​ @buckys-henley​ @buckstaybucky​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-broody-muffin​ @buckys-minty-breath​ @book-dragon-13​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @ikaris-whore​ @imgaril-lindru​ @itsunclebucky​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lokilvrr​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @softpeachbarnes​ @tuiccim​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @the-wayward-robot​ @yansi1923​

[aliasimagines]

One Hell of a Night // Luke Patterson

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN Y'ALL, it officially passed midnight here.Are you guys going to celebrate Halloween at home? And if so are you going to dress up? Tell me all about it lovelies, I wanna hear it ❤️. prompt 18 nad 15 from this list🎃 this fic is chaotic, hope you enjoy😊

word count: 2692

warnings: a few (three i think?) curse words, and a..uhm a line of dirty talking (I'm sorry I'm not like this all the time I promise 😅) and scary stories

The dry, colorful autumn leaves creaked under hiking boots as you walked into the woods. A smile appeared on your face as you heard some noises. Only a few seconds later you spotted the source. The Sunset Curve. The boys worked on getting the campfire lit while joking and laughing loudly. You stopped by a tree and leaned against it. Alex just hit Reggie on the back for just sitting around and not helping with putting logs and dry leaves on the fireplace. Thanks to Alex, Reggie swallowed the huge marshmello he had in his mouth and started coughing. 

Bobby was trying to light his lighter again and again but it just didn't work. That's when Luke threw a pack of matches at him causing the rhythm guitarist to stumble back and fall into a pile of leaves. You started laughing quietly and walked up to them.

"That wasn't nice of you, babe." you said from behind Luke. He jumped, not noticing you creeping up on him.

"BAH! I almost got a heart attack, y/n!" he shouts pouting. You giggled and placed a small kiss on his cheek. 

"That's what you get for not waiting for me." you smirk. Luke looks down embarrassed and goes to scrape the back of his head. 

"Yeah…Sorry about that. I was too eager to set up the camp." he gestured at the two tents. Both were full of blankets and pillows. It looked super comfortable. You also spotted his acoustic guitar, and a whole bunch of food in you guys' tent. 

"You did a great job."you smiled before walking over to the other boys." Hi guys! What's up?"

"Y/N! Finally! Tell Alex to stop hitting me!" yelled Reggie. You shook your head laughing. 

“Stop being so childish than Reginald!”

“Boys, come on!! It is halloween, have some fun!” and with that you fished out a huge bag of candy from your backpack and threw it into Reggie’s hands. He looked up at you like you were some kind of miracle maker. 

“Is this..is this all candy?” the dark haired boy asked, still in awe. You laughed, nodding your head slightly. 

“Yeah. I don’t really want to think about how much money I spent on sweets.” 

Soon after everyone got to work (this time for real) and the fire was lit in no time. Just as it started to get darker. All five of you sat around the campfire. You sat next to Luke, opposed to  Reggie and Alex. Bobby sat beside them in a camping chair. Thanks to the warm californian weather you didn’t need jackets just yet, despite being the end of october.

"It's getting dark. I think we could get started on the ghost stories?" asked Bobby looking up at the sky then around the little clearing in the woods where your tents were set up. Reggie munched on some candy corns but immediately stopped upon hearing those words. 

"Ghost stories? Don't mind if I do." he sat his candies aside and prepared to tell a story that would send shivers down your spines. You leaned over to Luke, placing your head on his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile before turning his attention back to the bassist. 

"One day, a little boy, while walking around the woods, found a big toe on the ground. He ran home with it and-" 

"-his mom cooked it in the soup which revolted in the toe's owner haunting them." you suddenly cut Reggie off. He gasps, offended. 

"What? I knew the story. Was I supposed to just sit around?" you ask, earning a soft laugh from Luke. Reggie huffed and gestured at you. 

"Alright then, take it away y/n. See if you can do better."

"Not to be that person but she definitely can. You only said like two sentences." Alex jumped in, not wanting to miss an opportunity to roast his friend. 

"Because she cut me off!!" 

The woods, once again erupted with the boys' laughter as you stared into the fire, waiting for them to quiet down so you can start your story. 

"I was only a small kid when this happened, around five,maybe six, but I still remember it like it was yesterday. My mother was out of town for the weekend because of her work, so naturally, it was my father who read me a bedtime story in the evening. Everything was great, he was reading from my favorite book but right before he could finish the chapter we heard a quiet tapping noise from downstairs. My father looked puzzled and put his finger against his lips, signaling me to stay quiet so he could listen. The tapping didn't stop, it got louder before turning into banging and a final loud crash which sounded like the front door flying open. I looked at my father, scared to death, not knowing what to do." you kept your voice low, your face straight and never removed your eyes from the fire."He grabbed me and quickly ran with me to the small bathroom that was connected to my room. He instructed me to lock my door and only open it when he says so. I don't know what happened after that, but heard my father going down and some muffled noises before hearing him climb back up the stairs. I remember his voice. It was just so nice and comforting. He said it was a false alarm and I could come out. I reached for the doorknob but then he leaned down and looked inside through the keyhole. My little hands stopped midair. I kept staring at his eyes. He repeated that it was safe to come out and that everything was fine. But I did not believe him. Because that wasn't my father. He sounded exactly like him, but his eyes… They were a different color. Not my father's welcoming eye color. So I just stood there. For minutes. Maybe hours. He wouldn't stop talking, reassuring me but I still didn't unlock the door."

Reggie leaned forward with a worried and scared expression.  

"What happened next?" 

You lifted your gaze, slowly to look at the spooked boy. 

"He started tapping. It sounded just like it did on the front door. And it wasn't long before he started banging his hand against the wood." 

"Oh my god.." Reggie whispers. 

"He is hitting harder and harder until finally the door breaks and flies open. And the creature, no longer looking or sounding like my father, rather like a tall bloodied figure with sharp teeth, jumps at me, opening his huge mouth and SWALLOWS ME WHOLE." you shout the last part causing Reggie to scream and the others to jump just a little. 

"Fuuckk, i think I peed myself!" exclaims Reggie. You only laugh, seeing all the boys being a bit paler. 

"So who's next?" 

"I'll go." Luke said beside you and you shifted away from him, knowing that he will need the space to gesture along his story. You watched as he started to speak. His expression changes with every sentence as he introduces his characters. His frown as he talks about a creepy night in the woods. Your eyes wander down to his lips, too busy just staring at them to actually listen to the words that make them move. You distantly hear various curse words from the guys as your boyfriend goes deeper into detail with his horrifying story. With eyes still glued to Luke, you smile slightly. 

"../n...y/n...Y/N!" you hear making you jump and almost falling backwards on the log you have been sitting on. You see all the guys staring at you. 

"How are you not scared? Did you not hear Luke's story?" Reggie asks, earning a knowing laugh from Alex. 

"No, she did not. She was too busy staring at his lips." as your friend's words hit your ears you feel your face heating up. 

"Dude..,alright I might have zoomed out. A bit but I am here now. Where were you, babe?" 

Luke looks at you, amused. 

"I finished like 3 minutes ago. You 'zoomed out' for legit 20 minutes." 

Looking up at the sky, you realized they were right because it got pitch black since you last looked up. Your lips curved into an 'o' shape before mumbling a sorry.. 

“We should put more wood on the fire. It's starting to weaken.” says Reggie. Bobby points into the dark woods.

“Suit yourself, man.” 

“What? I am not going alone. Someone come with me.” he whines. Alex visibly changes his posture and sits into a more comfortable position.Luke puts his muscular arm around your shoulder grinning.

“You’re on your own, man.”

“No! Please??”

You bite back a laugh and carefully remove Luke’s arm from you. 

“Alright, I’ll go with you.” 

“Thank you!You are amazing!” 

You grab the basket ,that’s been laying on the ground, for the twigs. You also reach into your bag for your flashlight. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go.” you step towards Reggie but Luke grabs your hand and places a small kiss on it. 

“Be careful, love.”

“Always.”

The two of you start walking towards the woods.

“Try not to pee yourselfs guys!” Alex calls after you in a sing-song voice.

“Ha ha, very funny Alex.”

To be honest you were a little spooked but didn’t show it.Not like Reggie who was literally shaking beside you and jumped up at every little noise he heard as you got further into the woods. You picked up a few sticks and bigger twigs, slowly filling the basket with them. Or rather, you tried but when Reggie stoped right in front of you you accidentally dropped it spilling the stuff everywhere.

“Dude! I am trying to help you here!”

“Shhhhh! Didn’t you hear that?” he whispers, voice panicked. 

“Come on, Reg. This isn’t going to work on me.”

He turns to look at you.

“No, y/n! I am serious! I heard a whisper! I’m sure of it!”

You roll your eyes, not believing your friend.

“You gotta be more convincing next time. I dont scare that easily..AH” just as you assured Reginald how it takes more for you to get spooked, someone, or something grabbed you from behind and started to pull you while shouting ‘WAA’. The flashlight landed on the ground too as you let out a bloodcurdling scream. You kicked your attacker(s?) wherever you could. 

“Ahh! WHoo, stop, it’s just us.” you suddenly hear your boyfriend's voice and feel the arms around you letting go. You turned around your fear vanishing and turning into anger.

Reggie behind you falls on the ground,clutching his chest while he tries not to cry.

“ARE YOU GUYS INSANE?!” you shout at Luke and Booby. Alex is nowhere to be seen, he probably stayed next the fire to keep an eye on your stuff. Luke's eyes immediately  widen upon hearing you raise your voice.

“I..I am sorry we thought-”

“What?! Lucas Patterson I am, so, so mad at you right now” you say shaking. You hear Bobby giggle quietly. You snap your head in his direction. “And don't even get me started on you Bobby...Bobby..uhm” you stop to think about his surname, only to realise you don’t know it. For a moment you let go of your anger. “What is your surname?”

He only scoffs and smiles. Alex must have heard the shouting and come to investigate with a flashlight in one hand and a drumstick (as a weapon?) in his other.He soon puts them down tho as he sees that you are all in one piece. Luke looks at Bobby with a puzzled expression.

“That is actually creepy, cause I don’t know it either.”

“What?! How? He has been in a band for, what? A year and a half? And you never actually asked his last name?” you ask, more interested in the mystery of Bobby’s name than shouting at them now. Luke shrugs.

“Do you even have a last name?” you hear Reggie asking from the ground. You all turn to him with questioning looks.

“Everyone has a last name Reginald.” says Alex.

“Not celtic gods, no.” he responds.

“What?” Luke exclaims clearny not understanding the bassist.

“Bobby is not a god.” says the drummer annoyed. “ He is a normal teenager like us.”

“Is he tho?”

Meanwhile Bobby leans back against a tree and stares at Reggie.

“You are creeping me out...Please stop creeping me out oh majestic god of...what are you the god of?”

Booby just smiles mysteriously. 

“Oh for f…’s sake.Y/N back me up here, there are no gods and even if there were, Bobby is not one of them.”

“Thanks Alex but I am not offending a celtic god.”

“What is wrong with you guys?!”

Luke doesn’t know who to look at in this chaos. Soon he decides to pick up the twigs and collect more while you, Reggie and Alex argue whether Bobby is a god or not. Bobby bends down too, to help the lead singer.

“You do know my name is actually Wilson, right?” 

“Yeah. Of course I do, I think Reggie does too, he just forgot.” the two boys laugh. 

You all walk back to the camp and Booby, upon seeing Reggie still looking at him suspiciously walks over to him.

“I am not an ancient god, you know.”

“That is exactly what I would say too.”

Not hearing Reggie’s nonsense reminds you of what Luke did so when you feel him wrapping his arms around you, you push him away.

“I sorry, bae. I was an asshole. I shouldn’t have. Please look at me?” he stands before you so there is no way you can avoid him.

“Don’t do this again.” you said with a firm tone. You can't help but smile, seeing Luke’s shit eating grin. He opens his arms once again but waits for you to hug him first. You do, and for minutes you just stand there in his embrace. The silence was broken by the familiar sound of the acoustic guitar which was followed by Reggie’s voice as he started to play some country song. 

“Dude, no, put down my guitar.”Luke ran off to get his instrument or to, at least convince him to play ‘normal’ music. You laugh and walk over to Alex and Bobby.

“Hey, y/n, I am sorry about scaring you.”

You wave your hand. 

“It’s fine. However don’t be surprised when I get back at you.” you say before sitting down next to Reggie and giving him a hug because let’s be honest he was pretty traumatised in the woods too.

“Woo,hey! Why does he get a hug?” Luke asks, upset he couldn’t change Reggies mind about playing country songs. And from the fact that his girlfriend was hugging him.

“Maybe because you decided that it was a funny idea to scare the living shit out of him and I.”

“Stop guilt tripping me.” he pulls you up and away from the fire, closer to the tents. ”I said I am sorry. And you are right, I shouldn’t  have scared you. Besides…” he leaned closer to your ear “I know more fun ways to make you scream.”

You gasp upon hearing his words and right when you are about to react Alex walks by casually. 

“No, no. With the tents it’s like we are sleeping next to each other. If you guys try anything I will murder you myself.”

Both of you look after him, blushing before breaking into laughter.

Luke’s watch showed 3:58 when you all agreed to call it a night.You put out the fire with the help of Bobby while Luke went to pack away the trash you all left out.

Reggie yawned and looked up at Alex.

“I am still pretty scared...Can I cuddle you Alex?”

He looks at him like he heard it wrong.

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you Bobby?”

“No way, Reg.”

Despite them saying this, all three of them woke up hugging each other in the morning.

[rocorambles]

Mmm your Yandere Noya post was so gooood!!! Now I’m thinking about a Yandere Noya who’s super in love with his darling through high school, even though she keeps brushing him off. And after high school if he just couldn’t keep away from her and finally refuses to take no for an answer? I kind of peg him as a bit delusional, maybe considering all the earlier rejections as “playing hard to get” or “teasing”? If you’re ever down to write Yandere Noya breaking and finally taking his darling for the first time, desperately trying to make her enjoy it/admit she’s enjoying it (enjoying him) — I would literally LOVE to read it.

100% a Yandere Nishinoya is delusional by more than just a bit~ 

Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Non-Con/Rape, Stalking, Obsessive and Delusional Behavior

When Nishinoya had announced that he was going to travel around the world after graduating from Karasuno, no one questioned him. It just made sense. Of course Miyagi, hell even all of Japan, wasn’t big enough to satisfy a wild adventurous soul like his. So they waved him off at the airport and ooh-ed and aah-ed at his amazing pictures from across the globe without a second thought. 

Maybe if they had paid more attention, they would have found it strange that he always seemed to be in the same city as you. 

Maybe if you had paid more attention, you would have realized that the loud boy you had always ignored in high school and blocked on all social media after continuous ignored rejections hadn’t lost any of his determination and obsession. 

But this is real life and as annoying as Nishinoya can be, you know he’s harmless. Obnoxious, stubborn, and unreasonable. But harmless nonetheless. 

Or so you thought. 

Years pass and you smile as you walk by a fishing coast in Italy, eyes sparkling as you take in the rowdy bantering of fishermen and glistening scales of their large hauls. But you freeze when you hear your name being called.

Why does that voice sound so familiar? 

You’re unsure how to feel when Nishinoya makes his presence known, tucking the huge marlin he’s caught under his arm as he beams at you. Something in the back of your head nags at you, urges you to be cautious. What are the chances that he’d be in this exact spot of the world at the same exact time you are? Surely it can’t just be coincidence...

You mentally shake your head, scowling at yourself for your paranoid thoughts. It’s Nishinoya. There’s nothing sinister or dangerous about the man, even if he is older and taller now. And a small smile slips onto your face as he grapples and whoops loudly as the marlin flops around in his arms. 

Yup. Same old Nishinoya. 

Frankly, you even feel a little bad as the two of you catch-up and you wonder why you had been so short tempered with him when you were younger. Maybe that’s why when he asks if you want to come over to his place for dinner, you don’t hesitate to eagerly nod. And now here you are, seated across a table from him, sharing a delicious plate of cooked marlin as the two of you joke around and reminisce about your old Karasuno days and Miyagi in general. 

But you freeze when he broaches the topic of you and him, teasing you about how you always played “hard to get”, nervously swallowing your food as he goes on and on about how much he liked you, how much he still likes you, how he’s so glad you’re finally done playing around and ready to be in a real relationship with him. 

Isn’t this romantic? Having your first date in Italy? Eating a home cooked meal that he had caught together? 

“Nishinoya, I’m sorry if I led you on, but this isn’t a date. It’s just two old classmates catching up-”

Your throat goes dry and clams up at the fiery angry look in his eyes, a look you’ve only seen on the court when you used to watch your high school team play. 

“Aren’t you tired of this? Tired of having me chase and follow you around the world? South Korea, Singapore, Thailand, France...”

You’re not paying attention anymore, body going cold and trembling as he accurately lists every country you’ve been to since graduating from Karasuno and you subtly sneak a glance at the door, calculating how fast you could make a run for it. 

But it’s not subtle enough and before you can even fully stand up from your seat, you’re being tackled to the ground, crying out in pain as your body crashes against the hard floor. And then it’s a mess of flailing limbs and screams as the two of you grapple with each other, you trying to escape the pinned position you’re in, him keeping you held down. 

What he lacks in raw strength, he makes up for in pure tenacity and speed and you sob as your waning strength pales in comparison to his relentless hold on you, weakly slapping him and trying to push him away as his lips crash down on yours, as his hands shove your shirt and bra above your breasts, roughly kneading and groping them, rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You feel so violated as intense eyes unnervingly gaze at your bare torso and you clench your own eyes shut, unable to look any longer at the man above you, praying for all of this to end quickly. Maybe now that he’s had a peek and a taste, he’ll be satisfied...

But you struggle with renewed fervor when you feel your bottoms and panties being pulled down, when cold air hits your most intimate part, a fresh wave of tears streaming down your face as you scream and beg for him to stop, stop, stop, only crying harder when he just gently shushes you, planting soft kisses on your neck and down your collarbone to calm you down as he rubs your clit and slips a finger inside, taking his time to stretch you out. 

Nishinoya is determined to make you feel good and you hate how focused and loving he is as he carefully studies your face expressions, your body reactions, coaxing needy gasps and moans from you, causing your nipples to harden and your back to arch. You hate how good it feels, how your own body betrays you as it chases the growing pleasure and arousal coiling inside of it. And you hate how he affectionately strokes your hair as you come undone around his cock, body twitching and trembling in bliss as you’re forced over the edge. 

But what you hate the most is how comforting it feels to be wrapped in strong wiry arms and tucked alongside a lean body as your exhausted body basks in post-coital bliss, how you have no urge to pull away as sweet loving words are murmured in your ear while your heavy eyelids flutter shut. 

[gibbyisbatman]

Three’s Company

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

18+

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, double penetration, swallowing, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it)

  Two bodies sit together on a deep seated sofa, legs crossed and engrossed in conversation. The topic being something taboo and a bit hard to bring up, but there was no sliver of embarrassment or shame between words. A simple couple communicating their thoughts and ideas about a not-so-simple act that wanted to be added to their bedroom life. That idea being one that will either be loved or hated, there is not much room in the middle. This idea is to add another body to the mix, allowing them entry into the hot and heavy atmosphere that swirls around with the intoxicating smell of sweat and arousal.

"Are you sure that you are okay with this idea, Bucky?" Y/N asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. The smirk on his lips never faltered, his presence exuding confidence. His hands wraps themselves around Y/N's, squeezing gently. "Of course, I'm okay with this. I wouldn't agree if I wasn't. This is something that I want too. Now the question is, who?" A bright smile spreads across Y/N's face as she speaks, "Um. I was thinking about Stevie."

  Days had passed since Y/N's conversation with Bucky about having a threesome with Steve. Anxiety picked at the back of her skull as she waited impatiently for an answer from either man. Had Steve been freaked out by the proposal? Did Bucky change his mind about having another man touch his girl so intimately? There were many questions that swirled in her thoughts, until her phone buzzed like clockwork. A message from Bucky popped up on the screen and it read, "He said yes! Tonight! Do what you need to doll! Love you!"

Y/N heads to her bathroom with a pep in her step. She decides to take a hot shower, scrubbing her body with a delicious wash. After finishing the shower and drying off, Y/N applies a touch of makeup and smiles at her appearance. In the bedroom, she fishes out a simple, yet sexy matching set of black lace. All dolled up for herself and the men of the night, Y/N wraps her body in a small silk robe to wait.

  Bucky can be heard unlocking the door to the apartment quickly, ready for what the night has in store. Steve shuffles in after, cheeks colored with a tinge of pink as his eyes scan the area. Both men perk up immediately at the sound of footsteps, Y/N's to be exact. She stands  in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. "Hi boys! Nice to see you two!" She exclaims. The boyfriend makes his way to the beautiful girl, greeting her with a short, but passionate kiss. "Look at you, doll! You dressed up for some special occasion?”  Lust already brewing in Bucky's voice, "Why don't you go greet our guest."

America's Golden Boy meets Y/N halfway, waiting for her to make the first move. Her soft hands glide up his bicep with a squeeze and a smile. "It's nice to see you, Stevie. Not to be rude, but can we skip past all of the small talk and pleasantries? We all know what's happening." Y/N says almost innocently, batting her lashes at one half of the super soldier population. Bucky runs his hands down her back and to her hips, resting them there. "Someone is eager, huh, babygirl?" The men share a look before Bucky continues, "Let's set some ground rules, shall we?" With the nod of the other two parties, he pipes up once more. "If anyone says to stop, you stop immediately. Steve, you will not cum in her pretty pussy, no matter how good she feels. And her ass is off limits." Bucky states in a gruff, demanding tone.

He looks to you and then to Steve, silently observing if there were any silent objections. "Both of you need to use your words." In an instant, both Y/N and the Captain voice their agreement, understanding the rules that were just put into place. "Good, now let's take this to the bedroom and get started." Sergeant Barnes orders, pinching Y/N's ass and making her squeal. All three bodies shuffle into the candle lit bedroom, the men kicking off shoes and shrugging off clothing with each step forward.

Y/N is quickly pinned between two hot bodies, Bucky's mouth working against her own as Steve places wet, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. A small whimper falls from her mouth, only to be swallowed down by Bucky. The robe is untied by determined fingers and thrown carelessly in a corner, offering more exposed skin to be sucked, nipped and caressed. Warm hands unhooked the clasp of the bra, tossing it aside, before roughly kneading the flesh of supple breasts. A broken moan rips from her throat as she tried to press into the hands further.

Within seconds, Y/N is thrown onto the bed and her panties tore from her body. "Mmm. Look at my beautiful girl, sprawled out and soaked for us." Bucky growled, licking his swollen lips. Steve situates himself on the bed, mesmerized by the body in front of him that was wrecked with anticipation. "Go ahead, man. I know you want to dig in." Bucky chuckles darkly, watching as his best friend and co-worker looks to his girl for further consent and dives directly into her intoxicating heat once he does. Y/N's face contorts with pleasure as Steve's lips latch around her bundle of nerves and flicks his tongue relentlessly.

Bucky levels his hard length at his girl's mouth, tapping the tip against her lips twice signaling for her to take him in. She immediately opens up, sucking the swollen tip in her hot mouth with a moan. "That's right, doll, take my cock like a good girl. You like this don't you? Sucking me off while little Stevie eats your pussy." His words mix with the already overwhelming  pleasure coming from Steve's mouth and fingers and the heavy feeling of his cock moving in her mouth, cause her eyes to roll back. The Captain pulls away, chin and lips shiny with arousal, "You taste so good. I could stay here all day and night." He moans as he dives back in, the vibrations send shock-waves throughout her body. Bucky's cock still assaults Y/N's throat, using her mouth how he wishes, he groans loudly before pulling out. He watches as several quick flicks of Steve’s tongue throws her over the edge, leaving Y/N panting and shaking under the large man situated over her lower half.

"Fuck! That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen" Bucky hisses with steady strokes of his cock, watching you come down from your first orgasm as Steve licks his lips clean. "Taste yourself, sweetheart." Stevie mutters, lust dripping from his words as he offers his slick fingers for Y/N to suck clean. She eagerly does so, not stopping until the taste of herself is free from his digits.

Y/N is flipped onto her hands and knees, Bucky fitting his body behind her and Steve at her front. A shiver runs down her spine, ready for whatever, or whoever, comes next. Her eyes lock onto the blonde man's leaking length, licking her lips with want. "Suck him off, babygirl. He was so good to you, now make him cum. Ugh! I'm gonna fuck you hard while you use your dirty mouth on my buddy." Bucky hisses through grit teeth, his hand tugging hard on the head of hair in front of him.

Giving Y/N no time to adjust, Bucky slams into her wet heat and stays buried to the hilt until Steve's cock was hitting the back of her throat. Bucky pulls out slowly, Steve follows after, setting a teasing pace for the woman between them. A small hand reached up to fondle and play with the blue-eyed blonde's heavy balls, only adding to the stimulating pleasure he was feeling. Both men thrust harder and deeper; pulling moans, grunts and the sounds of lewd wetness from all three of them. Bucky's vibranium hand snakes around to rub tight circles around Y/N's clit to bring her closer to orgasm as his rapidly approached. Y/N could feel both Bucky and Steve's  thrusts lose their rhythm after some time as they got closer and closer to finishing. Her orgasm rushes over her whole being with white hot pleasure.

"Pull out! Don't cum yet!" The older man barked out. Steve thrusts stalled and he pulled his still very hard member out from Y/N's mouth with a whimper. Bucky pulls out seconds later with a grunt, making Y/N let out a pathetic whine from loss of contact. The large men switch places and wait for a few moments, their needy cocks ready to fill wanting holes. "You better not cum in her, punk." Bucky growls, reminding the other two bodies who was in charge. Steve nodded without so much as a grumble, knowing the terms that were clearly laid out before anything began.

Both men slid home in unison, creating a chorus of sweet moans that sang out in the sex soiled room. There was no slow pace or steady strokes. It was fast and hard right out the gate. The harsh thrusts of one man pushed Y/N's body onto the other, back and forth, over and over again. 

Steve angled his hips just right to hit Y/N's g-spot every time he drove his long member into her quivering heat. The whimpers and moans that long to be released from deep inside  Y/N are intercepted by Bucky's girthy member that slide along the girl's wet tongue. The soft vibrations only adding to his pleasure as he continues to fuck Y/N’s face, the sensation making his balls tighten.  Steve's thrusts get sloppy as his large hand snakes around to rub Y/N's swollen clit fast and hard in the hopes of bringing her to another orgasm.

The super soldiers cum shortly after one another. Y/N falls over the edge, her whole body threatening to collapse into a boneless pile in the middle. Bucky jerks and grunts, spilling rope after rope of sticky cum down Y/N's throat, forcing her to swallow it down quickly. Steve cums seconds later, pulling out just in time to shoot his load across Y/N's lower back and ass.

  The three fucked out bodies lay there for quite some time, trying to recover enough to move. Y/N eventually drifts off to sleep after Bucky wipes her down and covers her up. Both men smile at the woman, content with the events that took place. "Thanks for inviting me in on this, man. I know it's a big deal for you both. Just remember me if you two want to try this again." Steve says, his hand patting Bucky on the shoulder.

[12tardis]

Mornings (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Warnings: none Requested:   Yes lovely  @cyborgfromthesupermarket​  asked for mornings with Newt and what waking up with him would be like <3  Pairing:   Newt Scamander x Reader Summary:  Short super fluffy drabble about a few of the many different trypes mornings you share with Newt  A/N:  I’m tired but bone app the teeth. I hope you like it! I’m such a hoe for fluff

Words: 2,456

Taglist: @moonkissk7​

Mornings were probably one of your favourite times to spend with Newt because you never knew what to expect. He was a creature of habit throughout the rest of the day, going down to feed his creatures at 9am sharp, taking observations at 10am, coming back up for lunch at 11.30am and so on. So mornings were always your free time together where you got to take your time, just the two of you before the usual hustle and bustle of the day set in.

                                                 *     *     *     *     *     

More often than not you would wake to find Newt already awake beside you, gazing at you lovingly and smiling bashfully at you when he would realise he’d been caught. 

“No I’m not waking her up, you’re just going to have to wait”

You stirred slightly, just making out the sound of Newt hissing under his breath, presumably to Pickett. You kept your eyes closed as you listened to Pickett chirp back in rebuttal and you couldn’t help but smile fondly, wondering how long the pair had been bickering.

“Because she deserves her rest...and she just looks so...so lovely when she’s sleeping”, you heard Newt whisper from beside you and you laughed softly as you blinked your eyes open, feeling your cheeks warm when you saw your boyfriend propped up on one elbow, looking at you in adoration. 

“Are you implying I don’t look lovely when I’m awake, Newton?” you said teasingly as you stretched your arms out over your head, smiling more when Newt immediately started to sputter in response “no! I mean yes- wait no. I mean you’re lovely all the time. You’re lovely, and beautiful and I-“, he trailed off when he saw the amusement on your face, scowling at you a moment later “oh you’re a cruel cruel woman.”

He huffed as he leapt at you, pinning you down onto the bed and smirking down at you when you let out a gasp in response, your legs coming up to frame his hips “who’s the flustered one now?” he chuckled before he leant down and captured your lips in a lazy but sensual kiss, one of his hands trailing down your side slowly before coming to rest on your hip.

You kissed him back eagerly, feeling completely awake once his calloused hands were roving over your body. Newt hummed against your lips when you deepened the kiss, pressing his body flush against yours and then pulling back suddenly with a yelp, his hand flying up to the back of his head where the Bowtruckle was tugging at his hair. 

“Pickett!” Newt cried out and you sat up quickly, plucking the creature from your boyfriends hair. You fixed the tiny Bowtruckle with a look of disapproval, watching as his leaves drooped down in response and he sulked much like a scolded dog would do. 

“He’s been bugging me all morning because he wants to snack on the wood lice that have just taken up residence in one of your plants but he wanted to ask your permission first,” Newt murmured, still rubbing at the back of his head and smiling gently when Pickett leapt up onto his arm, chirping out an apology.

You shook your head, smiling fondly as you got to your feet and stretched your arms over your head once more. You didn’t miss Newt’s not-so-subtle ogling as your night shirt rode up, exposing the soft skin of your thighs but you ignored it for the time being, instead holding your palm out to Pickett. 

“Alright, hop on. Let’s go get you some breakfast hm?” you murmured, gently ruffling a few of Pickett’s leaves before you headed for the door, making sure to put an extra swing in your hips for Newt and biting back a laugh when you just barely heard him hum appreciatively in response.                                                                      *     *     *     *     *     

If you didn’t wake to find Newt gazing at you, you often awoke to him bringing you breakfast in bed as the ever doting boyfriend he was. 

You hummed to yourself, stirring from your slumber quickly as the scent of waffles and maple syrup hit your nostrils. 

“Morning, my love.” Newt murmured, smiling softly down at you as you sat up, rubbing at your eyes and taking in the huge spread he had laid out on the bed in front of you. 

“Goodness Newt, how long have you been up?” you breathed out as you saw he’d prepared basically ALL of your favourite breakfast foods. Newt simply shrugged in response, pushing the tray of food further up your lap before he settled in the bed beside you.

“I know you had a bad day yesterday so I wanted to make sure you’d wake up with a smile today” he murmured, snatching up one of the hash browns for himself as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. 

You swallowed down the knot that had formed in your throat. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d surprised you with breakfast in bed but you still found it hard to fathom just how caring and loving your boyfriend was. “Thank you, Newt.” you murmured, leaning over and pecking him on the cheek. 

You sat in content silence as you both ate the breakfast, your head resting on Newt’s shoulder eventually. 

In the past Newt had attempted to be romantic and feed you himself by hand, lifting small bites of food to your mouth. That was until you’d gotten a little carried away in your teasing one time and had decided to suck the syrup from his finger when he’d held a berry to your lips. He’d blushed a deep scarlet and you could have sworn he had an actual brain snap when you had swirled your tongue around the tip of his finger, collecting the sweetness from his skin. 

It had taken several minutes for you to coax him out of his state of shock and a further couple of hours before he could look you in the eye again, so from then on you strictly fed yourselves. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Newt murmured, bumping your shoulder lightly and breaking you out of your reminiscing. You quickly shook your head, taking his hand in your own as you pressed another soft kiss to his jaw “I was just thinking about how you make me fall more in love with you every day.”

You smiled lovingly at the way his eyes softened and his own smile grew impossibly wider. “Who knew some waffles would turn you into such a sap”, he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you snug into his side, where you remained curled up for the remainder of the morning. 

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Sometimes you’d be startled awake in the early hours of the morning to find your boyfriend running around the flat like a mad man in pursuit of one particular creature with an affinity for sparkling objects. 

You jolted upright, clutching the sheets in your fists as you looked around the dimly lit bedroom trying to ascertain what had caused you to wake. The first slithers of daylight were just starting to illuminate the curtains and you frowned when you realised the bed was cold beside you where Newt would usually be. 

You yawned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you called out for your boyfriend “Newt?” and you jolted again when you heard a loud crash from the next room over, followed by shouts.

“Oh, which one is it now?”, you sighed to yourself as you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and swiftly pulled your dressing gown on ready to help Newt catch whichever creature had gotten loose now. 

“Get back here!”, you heard Newt hiss as you rounded the corner, laughing out loud at the sight that greeted you. The Niffler was stood on top of the living room mantelpiece, holding what must have been Newt’s wand triumphantly above his head and shimmying around as if to taunt the man. 

“Oh Merlin, what has he taken this time?” you giggled, watching the Niffler in amusement as Newt tried to lunge for him again, sending the creature scurrying under one of the couches. 

“Just...something”, Newt said lamely and you frowned at him in confusion as he visibly wracked his brain for an answer that would satisfy you “the Occamy shells I was storing for my potions!” he said quickly, relieved when you nodded easily enough. 

You smiled as you took in his rugged appearance, his hair sticking up in every possible direction and his cheeks a rosy pink as he’d clearly been chasing the creature around for some time now. 

As much as you would have enjoyed watching Newt chase the Niffler some more you knew he was at his wits end so you took pity on him, whipping your wand out and casting it in the direction of your favourite furred thief. 

“Accio Niffler,” you called, and Newt grabbed the creature quickly when he came into reach. You were distracted when you saw Newt’s wand clatter to the ground and you went to retrieve it completely oblivious to the velvet box that Newt had just fished out from the Niffler’s pouch. 

The velvet box that held the very ring that Newt wouldn’t find the courage to give you for another year. He shoved the box away into his pyjama pocket, making a mental note to lock it away somewhere later as he let the Niffler go. 

You giggled when the Niffler scurried up your leg and clutched to your night gown and you quickly curled your arms around the creature, cradling him against your chest “good morning, my little trouble maker”. 

Newt turned around to face the pair of you, feeling his heart flutter slightly in his chest as he watched you coo at and tickle the creature in your arms, the morning light illuminating your ethereal beauty. 

The ring seemed to weigh a tonne is his pocket then and he itched to grab it and ask the question right then and there. But he quickly dismissed the thought, wandering over to you and scooping you up bridal style without warning. 

You squealed in response, clutching the Niffler tightly against your chest, slapping Newt lightly in the shoulder as he carried you back to the bedroom “Newt! Give a girl some warning next time,” you huffed, nuzzling into him not a moment later. 

Newt hummed and pressed a kiss to your temple as he lay you down in the bed, climbing in after you once he’d set the Niffler back in his case. He curled himself around you protectively, draping his arm over your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his eyes already sliding shut. “Go back to sleep my darling.” 

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Your absolute favourite mornings were the rare ones when you would awaken first and get to admire Newt looking so peaceful and calm. You always took the time then to try and count each and every freckle that adorned his face. So far you’d only managed to count as far as 73 before he would wake, always asking what you were doing staring at him. 

You blinked your eyes open slowly, registering the feeling of a warm weight on your waist. You immediately smiled when you saw your boyfriend, laying right beside you, your faces only a few inches apart with one of his arms draped lazily over you.

Ever since you’d started sharing a bed you’d always fall asleep with Newt touching you somehow. Whether it be an arm over your waist, a hand clutching yours, or one or both of his legs tangled with yours, Newt always found a way to hold you in his sleep. It was like an anchor to him, helping him drift off into a peaceful slumber knowing you were safe beside him. 

You carefully carded your fingers through his hair, mindful not to disturb him as you admired how his lips were slightly parted as he breathed in and out in a steady rhythm. Gently laying your hand on his chest, you focused on the beating of his heart while you began to count the freckles that decorated his nose. 

“Mmm you know I can sense you creeping on me, darling girl?” Newt murmured, his voice low and gravelly with sleep though he kept his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of you stroking his hair. 

You startled a bit, pausing your ministrations because you’d seriously thought he was still deep asleep and pursed your lips together when you realised what he’d said “creeping?!”, you huffed, staring back at him as he kept his eyes closed, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“How come you get to do the same thing every other day but when I do I’m CREEPING?”, you pouted, flicking him in the middle of his forehead.

Newt chuckled, finally opening his eyes to look at you and only laughing more at the childish pout on your lips “because I’m admiring beauty when I do it,” he said as he took your hand from his head, pulling it to his lips “you’re just being weird and staring at me for no good reason.”

You gasped and tugged your hand free from his in favour of cupping his face in both of your hands firmly “you take that back!” You sighed at the look of confusion he now wore and you gently stroked your thumb over his cheek “You are beautiful, Newt.” 

He looked back at you with big eyes when he heard your serious tone and saw the determination in your eyes “You are so handsome, and stunning and beautiful and I was just admiring how gorgeous you are even when you’re asleep.” You cupped his cheek this time as you held his gaze “please believe me.”

Newt began to blush darkly as he took in your genuine and heartfelt words, seeing that you truly meant it “Y/N...” he said shyly but you were having none of it as you pressed yourself closer to him “just accept it Newt. You’re majestic and sometimes I just wanna take in the treasure that is my boyfriend alright?”

You pushed him lay on his back and you lay your head on his chest, looking up at him and resuming your love stuck gazing and Newt begrudgingly allowed it, stroking his fingers through your hair. “Well alright then, but I think it’s only fair that I get to take in the masterpiece that is my girlfriend too,” he countered, his cheeks still flushed as he locked eyes with you. 

“Deal.” you murmured with a nod, snuggling more into him and settling in for a long and peaceful morning. -MASTERLIST HERE-

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Saving the world (Double booking pt 2)

I was asked to write a second part, and as inspiration struck, well… here it is.

They've shared a room. Now what?

If you like it, let me know :D

Word count: 5655

Part 1

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The light is seeping under the curtains, dragging you back to the conscious world, but you're not ready to get up just yet. So you squeeze your eyes shut and stretch your back. It's stiff as a board, and your cheek has seemingly set in a permanently squished position. The room feels stuffy and warm, and there's a soft noise you don't recognise at first. But when you finally open your eyes, you can't help but smile.

Everything's a bit blurry without your glasses, but there's no mistaking the man sleeping in the bed next to yours. His arm, which you suddenly notice isn't gloved, but a prosthetic, is hanging over the edge of the bed, and if you strain your imagination, it's almost stretched towards you.

It looks like he hasn't moved at all during the night. Neither have you when you come to think of it. When you stretch again, your neck cracks as if you were eighty, and it's a struggle to lift one leg over the other, though that might just be that you're still half asleep.

As you fumble for your glasses, Bucky opens his eyes and gives you a sleepy smile. "Good morning."

Your heart skips a beat, and it's as if you've forgotten all suitable responses to such an innocent greeting. "Yeah." That's what comes out of your mouth, and you groan.

"You sleep good?" He yawns and props up on his elbow.

"Mhm. Like a baby."

"Me too."

You grin and roll over on your back just as the loudest growl erupts from your stomach. Heat creeps up your neck and ears, and you mutter a soft "Sorry."

Bucky laughs. "Don't apologise for being hungry. What do you say we go get some breakfast?"

"I could eat."

After a quick shower and a couple of frustrating minutes picking an outfit, you really don't want to look like a slob in front of Bucky, you're both seated in the restaurant, devouring the bacon and eggs like your lives depend on it.

The conversation is light. You're slowly getting to know each other. "I'm freelancing for the government," Bucky says and gulps down his orange juice. "It's all really boring, though."

You nod and stuff your mouth with bacon. "I'm sure it isn't. But paperwork, am I right?" you add with a chuckle.

Nodding, he wipes his mouth and takes another bite. "Mhm. How about you?"

"Oh, it's not very interesting. I freelance too, I guess. Right now I've been hired to design a calendar with paintings from the city. It's not well paid, but it's fun."

"So you're an artist? May I see some of your work?"

Suddenly you feel a bit self-conscious. That's weird. You haven't had doubts about your art in forever. "I've got some photos in my phone." You hesitate for a second, then fish it out and unlock it. Scrolling down, you find the series of paintings you did last spring. Green and lush, you get a pang of longing for the fresh air and colourful flowers. The contrast is vast from the grey city.

"Wow, these are good!" Bucky exclaims and starts gushing over your lines and colour and the composition, and you feel your ego inflating with every word. All you can do is sit there with a stupid grin on your face, and a pulsing heat in your cheeks, while he builds you up like he's a professional.

You've totally forgotten the time when the staff tells you that the restaurant, unfortunately, is closed now, but that you're welcome back for dinner later. With many an apology, the two of you get up and head to the lobby, where you stay, talking for almost an hour before you remember why you are here in the first place.

"Sorry," you say, and mean it. "I need to get some work done before the light goes. I was thinking of heading down to the harbour today. See if the water can inspire me."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess." Bucky looks down on his feet and gives you a small smile. Then he looks up again, his eyes shining, competing with the glorious smile that grows on his lips. "Do you mind if I come with you? I mean… you don't have to say yes, I just…"

"No, of course." You're relieved that he asked, letting you out of asking him yourself. "Some company would be lovely. Just gotta get my stuff. Meet you back here in ten minutes?"

He nods and sighs almost imperceptibly once you've turned away, watching as you almost skip towards the elevator. A tiny voice in the back of his head warns him that he has tripped and is going to fall hard if he doesn't get a grip soon, but he ignores it. The feeling is too pleasant to care just now.

The next few days you establish a routine of sorts. Bucky knocks on your door, asks to sleep next to you, you say yes, and you wake up, turned towards each other. After breakfast, you head out into the city, sometimes he's leading the way, sometimes you have a plan, and you spend the day drawing and talking and without realising it, falling hard for him. Every evening you have dinner in one of the restaurants near the hotel, and every evening you forget what is happening around you, and all you can focus on is Bucky.

_____________________________________________________________________

The sun is shining. A bird is singing in the tree behind you. You can barely hear the traffic from the road outside the park. Bucky is lounging on the grass, chewing on a straw, and you've been drawing him in secret for the past two hours, your original subject completely forgotten and rejected. When he looks up at you, his face is filled with happiness. "This is nice," he says, careful to mask his full joy.

"Yes, it is," you reply, quickly hiding the drawing under a sketch of the bridge and skyline.

He sits up and looks like he wants to say something, but he closes his mouth instead. After a small pause, he gets up and holds out his hand. "Let's go grab something to eat."

"Okay," you whisper, breathless from the feel of his hand in yours. "Lead the way."

He takes you to a small café at the edge of the park, explaining that it's famous for its fries, and they've got the bestdipping sauce, you just have to try it.

You're in the middle of the meal, laughing at a joke, when a shadow interrupts. Looking up, you hear Bucky mutter a curse under his breath, and you feel a pinprick of fear in your neck. He's glaring at the stranger, and the stranger surprisingly returns the look.

"Um…" You look between Bucky, sat at the table with a curly fry sticking out from the corner of his mouth, staring daggers, to the man who just interrupted your lunch. The truth smacks you in the head with force. Holy shit! That's Captain America. Captain freaking America! And it slowly dawns on you who Bucky really is.

The glass you just picked up slides back to the table, sprite sloshing over the sides as it hits, but you don't realise your hand is cold and wet. All you can focus on is that your roommate for the last week is… Bucky Barnes, AKA The Winter Soldier. Yeah. You try very hard to swallow the food in your mouth, but it's so dry, and forcing it makes your throat ache.

Said soldier quickly chews the curly fry and swallows thickly. "What do you want, Sam?"

Sam hands him a pad, and upon reading the contents, Bucky's frown deepens.

"It's very nice to meet you," Sam says, his shining smile lighting up the whole room. "I'm Sam, by the way."

"Y/N," you reply, still unaware that the hand you're using to shake Captain America's hand with is wet and slightly sticky. Actually, you're kinda unaware of your surroundings altogether.

Sam laughs, making Bucky look up from the message, scowls at Sam, then returns to his reading. "So you're the one who's keeping Bucky busy, huh?" He winks, and you feel that heat creeping up the back of your neck. "From the look on your face, I'd say you didn't know who you're having lunch with, right?"

You nod, squeaking a confirmation.

Sam laughs. "I thought after the whole Flag Smashers case, everybody knew who Bucky was."

Your ears burn, and you breathe a little faster now. Of course, you've been to the exhibit at the Smithsonian, and of course you know about Steve Rogers' best friend, it just never connected in your brain that this super sweet man is a WWII hero and assassin.

Your eyes flick from his prosthetic arm and up to his face. "Uh… I'm just not super into the whole celebrity thing?" you offer, blurting out the first thing that pops into your head.

Snickering, Sam turns to Bucky. "And you didn't tell her?" There's a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Bucky picks on a stain on the table before setting up a defiant face. "It didn't come up." And he wants to add And by the way, how do you go about saying Oh, and FYI I'm a former assassin and murderer, to a woman you really want to get to know better?

He looks so uncomfortable, you get a strong urge to hug him, but now you're uncertain of all this. What if the two of you are against the rules? Wait, what are you, really? Friends? Accidental roommates? You like Bucky. You really like Bucky, and you had kinda hoped it would grow into something… more, but now… Swallowing the lump in the back of your throat – that was an unexpected reaction – you smile flatly. "Are, are you allowed to, to… I mean, can you be friends with…" You swallow again. "Civilians?"

Sam's eyes widen for a split second, and somehow you feel as though he can see right through you. Then he laughs, and all the tension around the table dissipates. "Of course. We're human, Bucky's human, as difficult as that is to believe. Of course we're allowed to have friends, relationships, family. Wouldn't be much of a life without it, would it? But expect them to do a background check on you, hell, they probably already know what you ate for dinner on your twelfth birthday."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but I'm afraid I have to whisk your boyfriend away for a while. There's a situation."

"We're… we're not…" You have to admit that thought feels good, but really, any hope you had has been well and truly smashed.

Bucky gets up and smacks the pad at Sam. "I'll see you later?"

"I'll be here," you reply with fake confidence. "Please be safe. Both of you," you add with a small smile.

"You too," Bucky says softly. "Be careful if you go out after dark. It's not as safe as you think here."

That makes you snort. "It's me. I don't even like people, what am I supposed to do outside after dark, huh? Don't worry. I'll probably stay in my room and paint all day anyway."

He mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "good", but it's hard to hear over Sam. "I'll take care of him," he laughs, ducking under Bucky's hand as he swats at his head. "Come on, Buck. Let's roll."

"Be safe," you mutter again, looking after them as they head to the black, unmarked car waiting by the flower shop on the corner. It's as if all colour drains from your vision.

_______________________________________________________________________

The first sip of coffee feels divine; just what you need to wake up after spending another night without Bucky. It has been another restless night. You tossed and turned and couldn't settle properly. And the dreams… You'd rather not think about them. Never before has your brain produced such chaotic absurdities, such eldritch horrors, but to be honest you're not really surprised. Sleeping next to Bucky; something just clicked. You smile into your cup, feeling calmer just thinking about it. It's weird how quickly you got used to his presence, and how wrong it feels when he isn't there.

But you don't get to enjoy your drink for long. Before you've even finished the second sip, someone shoves you hard from behind. The coffee spills over the sidewalk, painting the concrete and splashing all over your shoes. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" you bark, turning to confront whoever pushed you. But before you can even see them, they pull a bag over your head.

Panic rises in you, and you scream until your throat feels raw. Someone smacks you across the mouth, and the shock and pain shuts you up. Your lip thumps: it's split, you can taste the blood now. Tears stream down your cheeks, the soft fabric of the bag clings to your skin. Feeling the darkness caress your mind, the world starts folding in over itself. Still you possess enough awareness to kick the person holding you. They yelp and swear, resulting in a sharp rap over your ear. Your head is ringing.

A pair of strong arms pick you up as if you weigh nothing, and haul you along, struggling with your flailing arms and legs. There's a metallic clang, like a van door opening, then you're half lifted, half pulled up, all while screaming and cursing, hoping someone – anyone – will hear.

Someone speaks a language you don't recognise; your sleeve is pushed up and there's a sharp prick in your arm. Seconds later your brain starts spinning. The faint light that seeps through the weaving of the bag blinks like a starry sky.

You sway back and forth, feeling off kilter and fuzzy, as the voices around you grow all garbled and muted. Someone pushes you backwards, but before you hit the floor, you're out. As the world fades from your consciousness, you just wish you could have seen Bucky one more time.

When you come to, your head is pounding, your mouth is dry, and everything is dark. You try to move, but your hands are shackled, and your feet are bound to whatever you're sitting on. At least you're right side up, you think, before the situation dawns on you, and the contents of your stomach threatens to make an appearance. You swallow thickly. God, your mouth is so dry. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, and there's not enough liquid to even wet your lips. All you can do is grimace, feeling how they crack and pop. It stings. The taste of metallic, rusty blood coats your tongue.

Your throat itches, so much so that you can't even speak, but you can cough. Hard, like explosions in your head, and it's enough for you to lose your breath.

Something floppy is shoved into your hands.

"It's upside down, you idiot!" someone shouts, and the paper is turned.

Panic surges through your body, and your throat constricts, increasing your coughing. Your heart is racing, but everything happens so fast you just can't process it. Someone removes the bag from your head. The light burns in your eyes, and the shock stops your coughing instantly. Everything is white. There's voices, and movement, but you can't see anything clearly, and for a moment you wonder if you've lost your contact lenses. Slowly your vision returns, but they all keep to the shadows, and they've covered their faces, so you can't make out any details. The buzzing in your ears almost drown out every sound in the room.

"Look straight ahead," they command, and by some miracle you actually manage to move your head. "Keep your eyes open. Ready!"

There's a bright flash, someone else yells "Got it!" and then, in a flurry of motions you're untied, dragged through a dark hallway and unceremoniously dropped on the floor. The door clangs ominously behind you, and you freeze, waiting for someone to grab you or hurt you. There's no one in the room, but you remain in the floor, rubbing your wrists and trying to calm your breathing.

It's cold in your cell, room, whatever people call it, but at least you've got a blanket, and they've fed you, so there's that. But no matter how many times you've asked, nobody tells you anything.

You're over the initial shock now, and the fear has begun to settle into anger, but you're too numb to react.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this to me? I'm no one, never been important in my whole life, hey, someone please say something." Silence. You bang on the door, not sure what you're hoping for. In the back of your mind you know it's risky, but you need to know. The silence is making the walls come closer. You lick your lip. It's bleeding again.

You figure your friendship with Bucky has something to do with your current predicament, but you're not sure exactly what they hope to achieve. It's not like you're best friends or anything, but maybe what you have is enough for him to come for you. That thought sends an electric jolt straight to the small of your back. For a moment you allow yourself to hope, to imagine him blasting through the door and marching in with murder in his eyes, angels singing, and the light surrounding him like a halo.

You laugh grimly. What are even the odds of him finding out where you are? Does he even care? He is the Winter Soldier, after all. He's probably got better things to do, he's busy saving the world, no doubt.

_______________________________________________________________________

Bucky smiles as he walks through the hallway, the ugly carpet muting the urgency in his steps. He can't wait to see you again. It's only been four days, but it feels like forever so the moment he got the all-clear after mission report, he made Sam drop him off at your hotel.

A short walk later he's standing outside your room, heart in his throat and arm outstretched, ready to knock. His stomach dances, pure happiness courses through him. It's been so long since he felt like this; he swears he can almost feel it in his metal arm.

A soft knock. No answer. He knocks again, harder this time. Still no answer. It's only a few minutes past eleven, you won't be asleep yet. You never fall asleep before midnight.

Suddenly it's like someone's poured a bucket of ice water over him. Putting an ear against the door, he listens like some kind of creep, but the room is silent. Maybe you're out. But that doesn't make sense either. It's too dark to get any proper work done, and you're not one for night clubs, or so you've said. Could you have checked out? Bucky's heart skips a beat. What if you're gone? But… wouldn't you at least have left him a message?

Turning on his heel, he marches back to the elevator as if he's got the devil on his tail. There's a really nasty feeling growing in his gut, something he just can't afford to think about now.

He presses the elevator button multiple times, but it takes its sweet time, so instead, he heads to the stairs, taking several steps at once, then skips the steps altogether and jumps over the railing, landing with a heavy thud on the ground floor.

There's a tenseness to his stride as he walks to the front desk, feeling more and more anxious with every breath. He never thought he'd feel this way again; that pit in his stomach and the growing stone in his chest. Last time, he was on a plane, heading for Italy in 1943, not knowing what was waiting for him.

"Excuse me," he says, rather gruffly, spooking the receptionist, though how she didn't hear him stomping through the lobby is a mystery. His own ears buzz loudly, and it's a miracle he can hear her at all.

"Good evening. How may I help you?" She smiles in that professional way people do when they're interrupted and don't really want to talk.

Bucky glances at the reflection in the glass wall behind her. Solitaire. He shakes his head to clear it a bit. "Um, yeah. Is there a message for me? For James Barnes or maybe Bucky."

She looks through the papers on the desk and shakes her head. "Sorry."

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. "Okay. Don't suppose you could tell me if Y/N has checked out of room 508?" His brows furrow, but he tries to smile anyway.

Another head shake. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not allowed to disclose that kind of information." She looks briefly at her screen, then back up at Bucky, fake smile plastered on her face.

Bucky bites his tongue and swallows the rage that's building in him. It's not the receptionist's fault. She doesn't understand. But then he gets an idea. "Right, of course," he says, making his voice sweeter. "But maybe you will allow me to leave her a message?"

"Certainly. Let me grab a pen and paper for you."

So you haven't checked out. From the look on her face, the receptionist doesn't realise she's confirmed his suspicions. Well, he'll leave a message just in case, but it's time for drastic measures.

Outside it's dark now. Low clouds are threatening with rain. No one sees the dark figure slipping around the corner and jumping to grab the lowest rung of the fire ladder. Bucky easily hoists himself up, and climbs to the fifth floor, keeping to the shadows and making as little noise as possible. He knows where the window to your room is, and in less than a minute he's standing on the tiny balcony, peering in.

The room looks untouched. The bed is made, your stuff is all there. There's an almost finished portrait on the sketch pad on the desk; a smiling, content picture of himself. Nothing is missing except you. Bucky is three seconds from losing it.

A cold raindrop hits the back of his neck, drawing him from his haze. Soon the sky has opened up, and he's blasted with icy water. It soaks through his jeans, and drips from his hair into his eyes. Without looking back, he slides down the fire ladder and lands in a puddle. He doesn't know what to do next. Maybe Sam knows, so he ducks back into the hotel to get out of the rain, but before he can make the call, he's interrupted by the receptionist.

"Mr Barnes, I apologise. I didn't see this before. Someone left this for you." The woman hands him a large, brown envelope. All of a sudden he's transported back in time; drowning in flashes of memories of past missions, but he shakes himself out of it. Leaning on the column by the door, he opens the envelope.

There's nothing in there but a photo. It makes his stomach turn, and for the first time since he's been free, he has to fight the rage of the Winter Soldier, expanding, threatening to explode and send him on a vengeance fuelled killing spree. "When? Do you know who delivered it?" His voice is darker than usual, and the woman steps back just from the sound.

"I'm sorry," she squeaks. "It's been here for a couple of days, I think. I wasn't here when it was delivered." She hurries back behind her counter, putting a safe distance between them.

Bucky adjusts his stance, and forces his voice to sound kinder. "Thank you. Is there somewhere I can make a phone call, undisturbed?"

She nods and points to a nook behind the oversized fern in the corner. There's a sliding glass door that will provide some privacy.

Turning the envelope over in his left hand, Bucky is careful to not leave any more fingerprints on it. It is unmarked, but he knows people who can read things that no one else can see.

Whipping out his phone, he dials the first number in the contact list. He doesn't realise it, but he's shaking. The four seconds it takes for Sam to pick up are an excruciating eternity, and Bucky grips the door handle to keep himself from running off without a plan.

Before he can even say hello, Bucky wheezes: "They've got her, Sam!"

"Who?"

"Y/N! They've taken her!" He closes his eyes. The photo has burned into his mind.

"I'm on my way."

Bucky relaxes his grip on the door. There's a dent in the metal, and that makes him even angrier. They've made him lose control. He curses as he exits the tiny room, pacing over the floor, waiting for the voice of reason to arrive.

Being Sam, being Captain America, opens a lot of doors, so when he shows up at the hotel, requesting to look through the surveillance tapes – though it really is a demand; he's got a way with words, Bucky muses, thinking back to when he realised that what he first took as being soft, really isn't soft at all. Anyway, they all fawn over each other, fighting to be the one to give Cap access. Bucky can hardly watch.

"Give us a few minutes," Sam says with a smile, settling in front of the computer.

"Of course." The manager bows and closes the door.

Then Sam turns to Bucky. "Okay. When did you see her last?"

"Four days ago, right before we left on that goddamn mission." He wants to beat himself that he exposed you to danger, and he resists the urge to take out his irritation by slapping Sam over the head. Instead he settles on a flat, emotionless that he hopes conveys all his frustration.

"Right, so somewhere after last Thursday, then." Sam pushes a button, selects the right floor and presses play. Nothing happens for a while, and he pushes a new button, making the footage speed up.

"There!" Bucky shouts, pointing at the screen. There you are. Leaving your room with a large bag over your shoulder. Bucky smiles in spite of his fear. A soft expression on your face and your trusty art supplies at your side. Everything looks normal.

Fast forwarding through the footage, nothing out of the ordinary happens. You return around seven, looking a little bit tired, but happy enough. Food is brought to your room an hour later, and you don't go out again that night.

"Sensible girl," Sam comments, drawing Bucky out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. But she didn't know how much danger she was in."

The night passes in a blur. A drunk couple stumbles through the hallway around two in the morning, but other than that it's quiet, until you leave again around 10am, again with your bag over your shoulder. You look tired, yawning and dragging your feet. The bounce in your step is gone, Bucky notices, and he wonders if it has anything to do with your abduction.

They keep fast forwarding, but when the time stamp shows 11.30pm, Bucky's chest plummets. He knows you're not coming back.

Sam looks at him. “Calm down, man. You look like you’re about to explode!” he hisses, putting his hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky shakes him off and glares. “Because I’m this close.”

“But that won’t do her any good, will it? We gotta keep our cool, don’t do anything rash.” Sam's voice is still calm. Bucky doesn't know how he does it.

"Fine." Bucky takes a deep breath, just how his therapist taught him. "Show me what direction she went."

Sam clicks and drags the front camera onto the screen. You stop outside for a few minutes, then head down the street towards the city centre. They follow you on the screen until you disappear from view.

There's a shoe shop on the corner where you turned, so after thanking the hotel manager for the help, they follow your moves through the city. The shoe shop doesn't have a quality video, but it's enough to recognise you. Tracking you through the streets feels like an endurance hunt, Bucky thinks, impatient to find out who took you and where you are. That's all he can focus on: to get you back. And god have mercy on your kidnappers if you're not okay. Eventually Sam and Bucky stop at a small restaurant, but they don't have surveillance at all.

"Okay. Let's head to that Starbucks," Bucky says, nodding across the road. "They're bound to have surveillance, right?"

Sam rolls his shoulders. "Let's go."

The video shows three large figures, lurking in the shadows in one of the side streets. They're watching as you enter the café, and when you exit with a large coffee in hand, the gang is ready. The footage jumps a bit, but it captures the terror in your face, and Bucky feels like throwing up. You're hauled into a waiting van, it's an unmarked, normal van, but as it speeds away, luck strikes. The camera got a clear shot of the number plate.

Bucky lets Sam handle the rest. He can't shake the guilt, the pit in his stomach that grows larger and larger. And his anger grows too. Why didn't anybody react, nobody can convince him that nobody heard or saw anything. He watches as Sam talks on the phone, already mentally punching your kidnappers to a pulp. The metal arm flexes involuntarily.

Sam puts down the phone and turns to Bucky. "Okay, so here's what they told me: The van isn't connected to anything, they didn't even have a name for me. It's probably a fake number plate. But they said it's been spotted driving to and from a warehouse not too far from here. Let's go suit up while we're waiting for the address."

Bucky exhales. They better hurry up with the address. You've been in captivity for far too long already.

_______________________________________________________________________

It's quiet in the building now. You don't know what time it is; they've taken all your stuff, but you know it's late. Your eyes sting, both from exhaustion and from wanting to cry, not to mention your contacts are getting dry, but you refuse to remove them – not being able to see would terrify you. But neither sleep nor tears come. Sitting on the cot, wrapped in the blanket they thankfully provided, you are too wound up to relax enough to sleep. What if someone comes in while you're out? There's not much chance to defend yourself, but at least if you're awake  you can try to put up a fight.

How long have you been here? It's hard to tell. After the first shock they've pretty much left you alone. Except for the interrogation a few hours later. They kept asking you about where Bucky is, what he's doing, details on his mission, but you told them, truthfully, that you don't know anything. And they seem to believe you. But they still won't let you go. You sigh and pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Even if you knew everything you wouldn't have told them anything, but you didn't say that out loud.

Suddenly there's a loud bang reverberating through the walls. Instinctively you flinch, trying to make yourself smaller. Your blood roar in your ears, and it feels like your heart is trying to beat its way through your rib cage. There's a pause – the silence is deafening, then someone yells. You hear gunshots. Heavy boots rush past your door. It's torture just listening to the fight, not knowing what will happen. What if there's a fire? Or what if you're abandoned here? Is this how you're gonna die?

The fight is getting closer. You drag the blanket over your head, locking your arms around your neck. Unfortunately it doesn't mute the sounds, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. Slowly the fight dies down, and for a moment everything is calm. You feel woozy, grateful that you're already sitting down, and you steel yourself for what comes next.

The door opens. Heavy boots slaps against the hard floor. Someone blocks out the light, and you feel a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you flinch and whimper.

A soft voice whispers in your ear. "Y/N?"

You forget to breathe again.

"Y/N," the voice repeats, coaxing you out of your makeshift cocoon.

You look up, and into the eyes of the man you never thought you'd see again. His face is blood-spattered, and his expression is a murderous rage, but the moment your eyes meet, he softens. "Bucky," you breathe, folding yourself out, and reaching for him like a toddler.

He scoops you up, holding you close as you begin to sob into his neck, and he rocks you back and forth until you calm a bit. "Are you hurt?"

Shaking your head, you climb down from his lap and looks over at Sam, hovering by the door. There's a look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher.

"You're bleeding," Bucky says, touching your lip gingerly.

"Oh." You don't know what else to say, as he helps you up on your feet. His arm stays around your shoulders all the way out into open air, and you lean into his embrace. The building is littered with bodies, some are definitely dead, others are being detained by soldiers dressed in black. Your knees buckle from the sight.

"Hey, I've got you," Bucky murmurs into your hair.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For coming to get me."

"Of course," Sam says, offering you a reassuring smile. "Why shouldn't we?"

You exhale shakily through your nose. "I thought you were busy saving the world and all."

Bucky pulls you closer.

"Don't you know?" Sam asks quietly, so no one else can hear. "You are his world."

_______________________________________________________________________

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